Temptation: The Aftermath

by Victoria Christopher Murray

  Well, I guess that reason had come.

  I had worked out the plan in my head already. I was going to do my best to save the marriage that I once tried to destroy. I was going to do everything to save Kyla and Jefferson Blake.

  This would be my penance.

  chapter 26

  Kyla

  I covered Nicole with the blanket and she snuggled into the chair, sleeping as if she were in her bed at the Plaza. Since my first night in New York, I hadn’t stayed overnight at the hospital. There had been nights when we’d left after midnight, but we had always returned to the hotel, even these last couple of nights when Jefferson was being awakened from his coma.

  But after we’d left City of Lights tonight, this was something that both Nicole and I had agreed we wanted to do.

  Nicole had brought it up when we first returned to the hospital a few hours ago. Our plan had been to come here after Bible study and kiss Jefferson goodnight, but as we stood over his bed, my daughter said, “Mom, I don’t know what it was about Pastor Hosea’s words, but I really want to stay with Daddy tonight.”

  “Wow. I’d been thinking the same thing.”

  I didn’t add that it wasn’t just Hosea’s words that had led me to this. It was everything — especially what happened with Jasmine. The way she had jumped out of the pew and ran down the aisle, never to be seen again. I’d wanted to ask Hosea if he knew what was going on, but I could tell by his expression that he was as clueless as the rest of the people in the sanctuary.

  Once again, I replayed the scene in my mind — the woman kneeling beside Jasmine, handing her the envelope, Jasmine opening it and then, the look on her face. I shook my head. Something happened that was pretty bad, but what I couldn’t figure out was why did I have the feeling that had anything to do with me?

  Still, what happened had left me so queasy that all I’d wanted to do was come back to the hospital and not leave again until I could roll Jefferson out of here with me.

  But I hadn’t told Nicole any of that. We’d just come back here and prayed and read scriptures and talked to Jefferson as if he could hear us, because we knew that he could.

  I glanced at my watch: 3:20, then looked at Nicole. She would get a couple of hours in and what I needed to do was find a way to get a little bit of rest, too. Pulling the chair from the wall, I moved slowly so the scraping sound against the linoleum wouldn’t awaken Nicole. Then, I lowered the rail on Jefferson’s bed, and after staring at him for a moment, I rested my head on him, almost the way Nicole had done the other day. When I finally closed my eyes, I twined my fingers with his.

  It was an awkward position, but didn’t really feel that way. Maybe it was because I was leaning against my husband, comforted by his heartbeat. Maybe it was because I was holding him and it felt like he was holding me.

  I began to drift, drift, drift toward that peaceful state of unconsciousness and it felt good. But just when I was about to enter that zone of complete rest, I was kinda awakened. It was so annoying the way Jefferson kept squeezing my hand.

  My eyes popped open right as he squeezed my hand again.

  For a moment, I sat frozen, still holding my husband’s hand and staring straight at him — and he stared right back at me.

  “Baby,” I whispered.

  He smiled, though it looked more like a grimace. He licked his lips. “Water.”

  “Oh, my God!” I jumped from the chair so fast, it fell back and fell over. “Okay, baby. I’ll get you some water.” And then, I screamed, “Nurse. Nurse. Nurse.”

  “Mom! What’s wrong?” The room wasn’t very big, but still Nicole was on the other side. That didn’t matter, though; in two hops, she was right next to me.

  I didn’t have to say a word, didn’t have to explain a thing. Because she looked down and into the eyes of her father. “Daddy,” she cried.

  “Here.” I put Nicole’s hand into her father’s. “Hold him until I get back.” I rushed around the bed and had almost made it to the door before I stopped, swiveled, and mad-dashed back to my husband. I leaned over and kissed him. My lips lingered and I wondered if that was why it felt like a first kiss.

  When I brought my lips away from his, he blinked and blinked and blinked. He blinked like one hundred times. That was a good sign — he could feel.

  Nicole laughed. “Oh, Daddy is back!”

  I was in my sprinter-mode again when I went into the hallway. The moment I stepped out of the room, I called out, “Nurse.” The one sitting at the nurses station looked up. “It’s my husband. He’s awake.”

  A grin, almost as wide as mine, filled her face before she leapt from her chair and then together, we raced back into the room.

  “Well, Doctor Blake,” she said as we entered.

  He turned his head to face us and I knew that was another good sign — he could hear.

  She checked the monitors, nodded, then went back to Jefferson. “Water,” he mumbled, sounding like his mouth was stuffed with a pound of cotton.

  “And I have some right here for you because that was the first thing you were supposed to say when you woke up. Good job.”

  I hadn’t even noticed the pink container with the straw on the nightstand. The nurse pressed the button on the side of the bed, raising Jefferson to a half sitting position and then, she pressed the straw against his lips. “Not so fast,” she told him. “Just small sips.”

  Another good sign — he could swallow, such an important reflex that everyone took for granted.

  I moved to Nicole’s side and grabbed her hand. All Jefferson was doing was sipping water, but we both cried as we watched this first accomplishment. My husband might as well have been climbing Mount Everest … that was the way it felt to me.

  After a few sips, the nurse lowered his bed. “Okay, Doctor Jefferson. I’m going to call Doctor Reid. He’s not on duty, but I have a feeling he’ll be here in a few minutes.”

  As she began to walk out of the room, I stopped her. “Wait. Is there anything we should do?”

  She frowned.

  “I mean,” I glanced at Jefferson, “I don’t know what to do.”

  She smiled.“Just talk to him. Love on him. He’s awake now. Do whatever you would do when he was awake before.” She paused, and then thought about what she said. “Well not everything.” Her laughter followed her right out of the room.

  There was not a bit of hesitation in my daughter. She was already by Jefferson’s bedside, but she stepped aside for me. I looked down at Jefferson and this man that I had loved for so long — I didn’t know what to say.

  He murmured, “Don’t … cry.”

  I laughed. Another good sign — he could see, he could understand. I wiped the tears from my cheek.“Oh, you’re better all right. Already telling me what to do.”

  For the next minutes, we talked to Jefferson, told him that we were in New York and at the hospital, but that he was going to be all right. We didn’t mention the shooting — there was no need. It would come back to him, I was afraid, soon enough.

  Like the nurse had said, just about fifteen minutes later, Dr. Reid came strolling into our room as if it were noon and not at least two hours before dawn.

  He was already grinning as if he had no cares when he said, “Doctor Blake, I hear you wanted to see me?”

  Nicole and I laughed again, and in that moment, I noted that we’d done that more in the last seven minutes than we’d had in the last seven days. We stepped away from the bed to make room for Dr. Reid, who just like the nurse, headed straight for the machines.

  I asked, “Doctor Reid, would you like us to step out of the room?”

  He didn’t even face us, his eyes were on the green machine when he said, “If you don’t mind.”

  Nicole had heard the doctor, but still I had to drag her away. Once we were in the hallway though, she hugged me and let loose her tears. “Oh, my God, Mom. I just knew it. I just knew we needed to be here tonight.” She didn’t give me a chance to say anything. “Suppose we we
ren’t here? Suppose he had opened his eyes and he was alone?”

  “Well, God made sure that didn’t happen.”

  Then, I wondered if that was why I’d had that queasy feeling. Was it just anxiety, my subconscious anticipation of Jefferson’s awakening?

  Nicole said, “You know what? We have to call somebody. Actually, we have to call a lot of people. We have to call Grandma, and Aunt Alexis and Uncle Brian … oh, and definitely, Pastor Hosea and Auntie Jasmine. Oh, and did you ever call Pastor Ford? You know she would want to know. She’ll probably fly here in the morning. We have to call them now.”

  “Well, we have to call everyone for sure, but ummm … do you know what time it is?”

  She glanced down at her watch. “It’s four-twenty.” When her eyes returned to me, she had a so-what expression on her face.

  “Oh, no.” I shook my head. “We don’t need to wake anyone. They’ll all have plenty of time to celebrate after the sun comes up.” “I bet they would want to know now, even in the middle of the night. This is huge. This is epic.”

  “Well, when they yell at you for not calling them right away, blame it on me,” I said. “Because you’re not calling anyone.”

  She crossed her arms and pouted, a pretend temper tantrum that looked so similar to the ones she used to throw. But the act didn’t last for a dozen seconds. It was difficult to feign anger when all you wanted to do was dance.

  Six minutes later — I’d been eyeing my watch — Dr. Reid called us back into the room. He had Jefferson sitting up at the same angle that the nurse had him before.

  “Well,” he drew out that word. “There are lots of tests that we have to run, and we’ll begin those in the morning. And it’s still going to be some time before Doctor Blake will be up and walking, but …” He shook his head. “I think we’re looking at one of God’s miracles right here.”

  I pressed my hands against my face, hoping that would hold back my tears, even though I wanted to bust out into one of those Oprah-Winfrey-ugly wails. What I really wanted to do was drop to my knees and just give thanks right here.

  But while I held back, my child did not. The heart she had for God made her kneel and bow her head, right there at the foot of her father’s bed.

  “Thank you, Jesus. Thank you, God. Thank you, Jesus. Thank you, God.”

  It became a praise song that I sang with my daughter when I joined her on my knees, too.

  Through many of the words that Dr. Reid had spoken to me over the past week, I believed that he was a praying man. But now, I knew that he was. Because though he didn’t join us physically, he did bow his head and close his eyes and stood still, listening as we sent our praises up.

  It was only a minute or maybe three, but I felt totally spent when Nicole and I helped each other to stand. When we faced the doctor, he spoke through his smile, “There is nothing like a praying family.”

  Nicole and I looked at each other and nodded.

  The doctor turned to Jefferson. “Doctor Blake, do you have anything to say?”

  Jefferson moved his head, just a little, like he was trying to nod. And then he licked his lips. They trembled a little, before he whispered, “Lola.”

  ***

  It was only because Hosea showed up that Nicole agreed to leave.

  “But I’m only going to the hotel to shower and change. And then, it will be your turn,” Nicole said before she kissed me, hugged Hosea, then scurried away.

  We watched her run — yes, actually run — to the elevators before I turned to Hosea.

  “Thank you for getting here so quickly.”

  “No problem,” he said. “I couldn’t get here fast enough. And I’m so glad you called early because I have to catch a flight at noon.”

  I prayed that my expression didn’t drop the way my heart had. Hosea was leaving town? No! He’d been my rod, helping to hold me up. He’d been my compass, helping me navigate through these horrible days. How was I supposed to do this without him, especially now that Jefferson had awakened?

  “How … how long will you be gone?” He waved his hand. “Just overnight.”

  Now I hoped he didn’t notice the way I released a breath of relief.

  “But if you need anything, just call Jasmine. She wanted to come, but there was something important she had to handle this morning.”

  I nodded, not telling him that I was grateful that he’d come alone. I said, “Can we talk in here?” With my chin, I motioned toward the door closest to us. I didn’t even hesitate; I wasn’t afraid of the Quiet Room anymore. I didn’t yet know when, but I would soon be taking my husband home.

  Hosea followed me inside, closed the door behind us, and waited until we sat down before he asked, “So, how long has he been awake?”

  I glanced at my watch. “Just about three hours.”

  Hosea leaned back in the chair and unbuttoned his suit jacket. “I wish you had called me.”

  “Nicole wanted to, but I didn’t want to call in the middle of the night.”

  He raised a finger as if he were scolding me.“I told you, I would be here for you through this. No matter the time of day.”

  I nodded. “Well, that’s why I called you now.” I paused, leaned forward and rested my hands against the small conference table.

  “Hosea, it’s so bizarre. But when the doctor asked Jefferson if he had anything to say, he said ‘Lola.’”

  Hosea flinched, then frowned and for a moment I wondered if the name meant something to him.

  But I shook that thought away and added, “And then, he kept saying that name. In fact, that’s all he’s been saying whenever he speaks.”

  “That’s all he says?”

  “Well, when he first woke up, he asked for water, and then, he told me not to cry. But when Doctor Reid asked him, he said ‘Lola’ and then, got really agitated before he fell asleep.”

  Hosea’s frown deepened.

  “Doctor Reid said that he could just be thinking about the last thing that he saw before he was shot — maybe a movie or a song he heard with that name.”

  Hosea waited a couple of long moments before he asked, “What do you think?”

  I shook my head. “I don’t know. That’s why I called you. Because … I wondered … if this had anything to do with Jefferson being shot and with … that woman?”

  As I said the words, I thought about all that I’d imagined in the last three hours. Was it just some random utterance that Dr. Reid said often happened with comatose patients waking up from a fog? Or did this mean something?

  I said, “I was wondering if I should call Detective Green and maybe tell him what’s going on with Jefferson.”

  It took him a moment to nod, as if he were in deep thought. “You may want to talk to him, but I’m thinking, let’s wait a day or two. For Jefferson to get a little stronger. If you call Detective Green now, he’ll be right here with his questions.”

  “No.” I shook my head, not worried about that at all. “I don’t think Doctor Reid will let him get anywhere near Jefferson right now.”

  “That’s what I mean. If you call him, he’ll be down here questioning you.” He paused and then, as if he were more sure of his words, he said, “We’ll call Detective Green when I get back because we definitely have to tell him this news, but let’s see what’s going on with Jefferson today.”

  “Okay.”This was why I’d called Hosea. When Jefferson had first called out that name, I’d almost run out of the room and called the detective. But I’d called Hosea instead, knowing he’d talk me down from this cliff the way he’d saved me from jumping off all the other ones I’d encountered this week.

  Hosea was right and Dr. Reid was probably right. I was making this into something that was really nothing.

  We sat, both of us contemplating my words. We were in such a state of seriousness, so appropriate for this room. And then, Hosea leaned forward and grabbed my hands. “Wow, your husband is awake.”

  My grin was instant. “Yes. And the doctor th
inks there was minimal damage to his brain. They won’t know for sure until after all the tests and he begins physical therapy, but so far, it’s looking good.”

  “Praise Jesus.”

  “Oh, you know I did that already.”

  He laughed. “I know that’s right. Let’s get back in there and do some more praising. And, I want to pray with him, too.”

  “I’d like that.”

  We stood at the same time and faced each other for a moment, as if neither one of us knew exactly what to do. I moved first — I pulled Hosea into a hug. “I don’t know what I would have done without you this week. I’m so grateful for you, Hosea. Just so grateful.”

  When I leaned back, my head moved to the left and he did the same. That was the only reason our lips were right there, so close. It was something that happened often between two people, an accident. But what most did was step back and laugh it off. I didn’t do that. Instead, I leaned in closer and pressed my lips against his.

  That was all.

  No tongue, no anything except for the meeting of our lips.

  My eyes were closed, but I was sure that his weren’t. I was selfaware enough to know that this was all about me. This was my way of showing this man my true gratitude. Letting him know that at another time, in another place … things may have been different. If we weren’t both so totally in love with other people, who knows. It was just a couple of seconds, but enough time to fill Hosea’s face with surprise. But I didn’t want him to read more into what was there.

  So, I smiled, took his hand and said, “I can’t wait for Jefferson to wake up. I can’t wait for you to meet my husband.”

  chapter 27

  Jasmine

  I never carried cash and now, I knew why. Because there were so many reasons to just live life through plastic.

  First, I never knew how difficult it was to get your own money out of your bank. It seemed like if you wanted anything more than your ATM limit, that created a situation.