Emerald Fire (Christian Romance) (The Jewel Series)

by Bridgeman, Hallee

  He couldn’t take it any more. Barry lunged to his feet and ripped the door open, never looking behind him. Scanning the halls for the exit sign, the need to escape flooded him, panicked him. Then immediately departed. He found he didn’t even have the strength to go back into the room. Leaning against the wall, he raised both hands and pressed them against his eyelids. All around him, he heard the sounds of a hospital, and wanted to scream and find out how people could be going on with their lives as if nothing had changed. As if the world wasn’t teetering on its axis, ready to collapse in on itself.

  Barry lowered his hands when he felt Tony take up the wall space next to him. They didn’t immediately speak, because no words needed saying, but Barry was surprised when he realized just how much he required the company of his friend.

  “She loves me,” he said at one point.

  “I know.” Tony shifted and crossed his ankles in front of him. “I think she always has.”

  “It just dawned on me what I might lose.”

  Tony sighed and rubbed the back of his neck. “Bear, if Maxi doesn’t make it, she gets to go home. One day, you get to go home and you’ll see her again. But we’re going to count on her pulling through this.”

  Barry took Tony’s rebuke to heart with a single solemn nod. “My head is spinning.”

  Tony stood straight. “You’ll go insane pondering the ‘might have beens.’ I have to believe, and Robin has to believe – and you have to believe – that she’ll pull through. We have to have faith. If not, whoever walks through the door next will find a group of raving lunatics.”

  Barry leaned his head back against the cold wall – Why were hospitals always so cold?– and pressed the heels of his hands to his eyes again. “I know. I know. You’re right.” Pushing away from the wall, he looked down the hall to the set of doors that led to the operating rooms. There was no movement that he could see.

  The cry in his heart that he had ignored all of these months suddenly became audible to him. The unexpected death of his first wife sent him careening away from God. The impending loss of his current wife, this beloved woman, almost sent him to his knees. He turned his head and looked at his best friend, at his brother, as tears burned the back of his throat. “Will you do me a favor?” he asked, his voice hoarse with emotion.

  “Of course, mi fratello.”

  “Will you pray with me?”

  Tony faced Barry and placed both hands on his shoulders. “It would be my honor.”

  IT was the darkest part of the night, the part of the night that hangs on just before dawn takes over. Peter had come and gone with TJ, bringing the baby to be fed, comforting both infant and mother. Derrick vanished and shortly returned with food that no one ate and strong coffee that everyone made disappear. Sarah went back and forth pestering the staff, finally finding someone that would tell her only that they were still working on Maxine and offered vagaries about internal bleeding. Mostly, they all sat silently, each numb from the worry and the fear, no longer even interested in the pretense of conversation. At last, the doctor finally arrived.

  “Brian?” Barry stood as the doctor strode into the waiting room, his voice echoing his surprise to recognize a longtime friend of his father’s.

  “Glad I was on call tonight, Barry,” Dr. Brian McDonald replied, extending his hand.

  Dr. McDonald looked as ragged as they all felt. Barry searched his face, trying to read his eyes, but found only weariness. The doctor gestured for Barry to retake his seat before he slowly lowered himself into the chair beside Barry, turning to face him fully.

  “Your wife is in recovery, now,” he said by way of a preamble. A collective breath was released, and they all tried to release some of the fear and brace for her condition. “She’s very weak, and I’ll honestly tell you that for the next several hours it’s still going to be touch and go.”

  “How is she?” Robin asked in a rush.

  The doctor pursed his lips and looked into every face. “Her condition is critical. I have to tell you it isn’t good. The entire left side of her body was basically crushed, and we had to get her put back together. We salvaged her spleen and her liver and that is very, very good, believe me. It does a lot to increase her chances. We’re trying to save her kidney, too, but we really need to watch it closely. We might have to go back and take it. The next few hours will tell. We’re watching her fluids very closely. She’s a fighter. She tried to leave us a couple of times, but hung on in the end.”

  “What …“ Barry cleared his throat, but the doctor seemed to know what he was asking.

  Brian ran a hand through his hair. “There was a lot of internal bleeding because one of her ribs punctured her lung.”

  Barry’s stomach churned and Robin gasped, covering her mouth with her hand. The doctor continued. “It’s repaired, and we replaced several liters of blood. Somehow, that was the worst of the internal damage. She’s not out of the woods but she’s stable for now.

  “Her left arm was broken in a couple of places. Her left hand and left leg got trapped when the door buckled in and … both were crushed. We called in an orthopedic surgeon who worked on her leg and hand. He’s the best and we were lucky he was in the hospital tonight. Without him, I’d have put her chances of ever walking again at zero. Even with him, we still debated the merits of radical amputation.”

  He put a hand up to forestall the protests and mitigate the indrawn breaths. “I’m just telling you it was considered. Instead, he did a superior job of reattachment and reconstruction. There’s going to be more to do. It’s going to take at least two more surgeries on her hand – probably more – and a lot of therapy. Still, and this is just a preliminary guess, but I think with some serious physical therapy, she has a chance of a meaningful recovery assuming she survives for the next few weeks.”

  Barry felt the room swirling around him, imagining it draining him into a dark abyss. “It’s touch and go with her hand. If she doesn’t sustain an infection, she should be able to keep it but she’ll probably never have full use again. The bones were badly crushed. We’ll really have to just wait and see how she heals. You should know that radical amputation of some of the digits is still on the table, especially if she starts getting septic. The bottom line is that her internal organs are too damaged to fight off a serious infection.”

  He paused for a moment. Sarah nodded her understanding, silently communicating that she could answer any questions her family might have about what he had said so far. The doctor continued.

  “You should know that she appears mentally altered.”

  Sarah interrupted for the first time, “What was her…?”

  The doctor forestalled the entire question when he held up three fingers by way of answer. Sarah’s entire body tensed.

  “Best we can guess, her head hit the steering wheel. It hit something solid and unforgiving, for sure. There’s no fracture but there is major blunt force trauma and there’s some swelling of the brain. There’s some bruising, but that should slowly go back to normal over the next few weeks. Neuro’s keeping a close watch. We want to make sure she doesn’t hemorrhage or have an aneurysm. There is likely going to be some immediate effects from the head injuries when she regains consciousness, but hopefully they’ll diminish over time. Try not to be concerned if she acts confused or forgetful for now.”

  He pushed himself out of the chair. “She needs to heal, and she needs to be still. If she were conscious and in this much pain, there’s a risk of shock. We’re going to keep her in a medically induced coma for the next twelve hours at least, maybe for a few days while we watch all of her vitals. As soon as she’s out of recovery we’ll move her down to intensive care. That’s two floors down. Family can see her just one or two at a time, no longer than ten minutes every hour. You need to know that she’s going to look pretty rough. Sarah can probably explain what all the tubes and hookups are there for. I’ll be here …“ He rubbed his eyes and looked at his watch. After grinning a private, ironic grin he co
ntinued,” … later this afternoon if you have any questions or problems. Does anyone have any questions before I go?”

  Barry found a thread of propriety and stood with the doctor. He held out his hand to shake Brian’s. “Thank you”

  Brian released the handshake and put a hand on Barry’s shoulder. “She’s tough. You can tell.” He pulled him in for a quick, familiar hug. “Call me at home if you need to. Margie and I will be praying for you both.”

  “Thank you.”

  As soon as the door closed behind him, Robin started crying. Tony pulled her into his lap and tucked her head under his chin.

  “It’s silly to cry now,” she said, brushing at the tears impatiently. “But all I can think about is her hand.”

  “Why?” Derrick asked.

  Barry swallowed and forced words past a throat that hurt. “Because she’s left-handed. A left handed artist with a crushed left hand.”

  He leaned his head back against the wall and closed his eyes, preparing his mind to wait another several hours before he could look in on her. He slid off the chair and turned so that his knees were on the ground. He clasped his hands, bowed his head, and began appealing to God with a desperate plea. He felt Tony kneel next to him on one side and Sarah kneel on the other.

  BARRY had to stop for half a minute when he entered the room. He thought Sarah had prepared him for what Maxine would look like, but he wasn’t prepared for the physical hurt that looking at her would cause. The bed seemed far too large for her thin frame, and tubes and lines ran from machines and bags, snaking under the blankets all around her. She lay completely still with her eyes taped closed.

  A tube attached to a respirator was taped to her lips and presumably went all the way down her throat. A white bandage, that looked stark against the black of her hair, covered half of her forehead. Her left arm lay on top of the covers, a bandage covering the tips of her knuckles to the top of her shoulder. A chest tube went under the covers on the right side of her body, keeping her lung inflated. A monitor beeped the steady rhythm of her heart and the respirator made a rasping sound as it breathed air into her lungs.

  Barry collapsed in the chair next to the bed and gingerly touched her right hand. His touch elicited no response. Not even the flicker of her eyelashes beneath the tape. He bowed his head, resting it on their joined hands. “I love you,” he whispered. “Maxine, please stay with me.”

  THE only time he left her side was when the medical staffed forced the issue or one of the others came to visit. Sarah came before and after her shifts and Tony and Robin took turns with the baby and came in and out.

  Once a day he left while Robin sat with her, to go to his house and shower and change clothes. He couldn’t stand being away for long, and returned within the hour. They all took turns trying to persuade him to leave, to go home and sleep, but he wouldn’t do it. Once he made it out to the parking deck before he turned around and went back inside. By Tuesday night, he felt tired enough that he thought he might sleep, so he stretched out on the master bed – the bed in which she slept but he had never shared with her – after his shower. Her scent overpowered him, seeped into his pores, tortured him until he knew he would find no rest.

  And still there was no change.

  Nurses removed the tape from her eyelids and they carefully cleaned her with cool, damp swabs. They tended to her, administering drugs, replacing full bags with empty bags and replacing empty bags with full bags depending upon protocol. Occasionally, Doctor McDonald would pop in and tell him how good her results were looking, or that he would be taking her out of the coma soon, or that he would continue to pray for healing. His grip on Barry’s shoulder before departing always afforded Barry some comfort.

  When they were alone, Barry talked to her, revealing everything inside him. He revealed regrets about the past and plans for their future. Peppered through it all, he lavished her with words of his love for her – the love he carried around inside for who knows how long, the love that had always been there. He prayed to God that he wasn’t too late.

  And still she didn’t move. She didn’t wake.

  It terrified him.

  On Wednesday, he reached his limit. He caught himself breathing in time with her ventilator, counting the breaths, and slowly let out a long breath, hoping it would relax him. He realized at that point how very close to the edge of collapse he was, but he didn’t know what he could do about it.

  He leaned forward, gripping her hand in one of his, laying his other one on the bed and resting his head on it. His hand swallowed hers like a whale swallows a shrimp. Confined to the sterile sheets of the hospital bed, she looked like a very small child resting next to a giant. He closed his eyes and willed her to wake up, willed her hand to squeeze his, willed her not to die. A wave of tiredness born of raw exhaustion and fear washed over him. Gripping her hand tightly, he let the wave take over and lull him into oblivion.

  CHAPTER 22

  MAXINE floated on a wave of nothingness, surrounded by a soothing, comforting void that cushioned her from something she didn’t want to face. She remembered driving the Jeep, stalling out, then a very loud noise. She remembered every single vivid detail until the blackness took over after the impact. She couldn’t remember exactly what happened next, but knew her last coherent thoughts had to do with fear and pain. So she enjoyed where she was, knowing on some instinctive level that when she finally woke, it would hurt more than she could imagine.

  She had no sense of time. She could have existed in her void for five minutes or five years. Disjointed sentences from voices she recognized occasionally penetrated the darkness. She felt more aware when she heard them – aware of the weight that seemed to press down on the left side of her body, aware of a steady rhythmic beeping, aware of her hand being lifted or touched. She could hear the voices, but never comprehended the words. During those times, she felt comfort knowing that people she loved were nearby.

  Eventually, she tired of the dark. She wanted her color back, her visible spectrum that gave the world its beauty. Somehow she knew that pain would exact a toll for the color, but she thought maybe she was ready, so she slowly pulled herself forward, toward the light, toward life.

  Thirst was her first sensation. She felt thirstier than she had ever felt before. Thirst almost won out over the dull throb in her head, over the tight pain in her chest, over the weight on her left side. Almost, but not quite.

  She wanted to move, to shift around a little and maybe help alleviate some of the discomfort, but found herself unable to do so. It was disconcerting to feel trapped, tied down, and she had to shake off the panic that lobbied to claw its way to the forefront of her thoughts. She pushed it firmly back because she sensed that panic would make it hurt worse.

  She felt sort of light, as if ever since the impact that had crushed the Jeep, she’d accidentally tripped into an abyss. She felt as if she had simply fallen and fallen and fallen this entire time.

  Suddenly, she realized that she had finally hit the solid ground at the bottom of that endless pit. She had come to earth and hit the ground with every single part of her body. Hard.

  It all registered at once. She hurt. Lord in heaven, she hurt everywhere.

  There was no more thought of shifting to ease discomfort. She didn’t think she could move at all. The steady beeping noise she had been hearing suddenly sped up, went out of control, the weight on her own flesh felt like an elephant sitting on top of her, and something was choking her, blocking her throat making it so hard to breathe. She gagged, muscles tensing, and it felt as if her entire torso was on fire.

  Her eyes flew open, and if she’d had the breath she would have screamed in agony. She tried to draw in another breath but couldn’t and tried to lift her hand to claw at her throat, but it wouldn’t move. The dim light above her wavered as tears filled her eyes. Oddly, she wondered how she could make tears when her throat felt as dry as a desert.

  Lights glared bright, searing her eyes. Then a face filled her vi
sion, blocking out everything else. She didn’t recognize the face, a black woman with kind eyes and pearl earrings. She tried to focus, but her eyes swam with tears.

  “Maxine, it’s good to see you back with us,” the woman said. Her voice was rhythmic, soothing, and Maxine clung to that. “You have a tube in your throat that’s been helping you breathe. That’s part of the reason you’re panicking. I need you to relax so I can remove it. Blink if you can understand me.” Desperate to have the thing removed, she blinked rapidly, ignoring the shooting pain through her temples that simply blinking caused. “Okay. Take a deep breath, as deep and big as you can. When you exhale, I’ll take the tube out. Here we go.”

  The second it cleared her throat, Maxine felt herself starting to calm. Then the woman was back. “I’m Dr. Roxanne O’Neill. I know you’re hurting, and the nurse is bringing something in right now to ease your discomfort. Just lie back and relax. You’ve been on quite a journey.”

  “I don’t …“ Maxine uttered, barely a weak whisper. She felt her hand being patted.

  “I know. There’s time for that later. Right now, just close your eyes.”

  “Thirsty,” she said, complying.

  The doctor chuckled. “I bet. When you wake up next time, we’ll get you some ice chips.”

  Maxine heard some shuffling and something warm shot through her vein and up her arm. “Barry,” she whispered. The warmth turned hot as it reached her chest. Oblivion beckoned from the next heartbeat.

  Maxine heard a chuckle and some more shuffling. “Your husband’s here, hon. He’s right outside for now. He hasn’t left your side this whole time. He’ll be back the second we finish.”

  This whole time? How long had she been here? Where was Barry? Could he salvage the Jeep? Were his golf-clubs okay? Was the other driver okay? Why was she so cold? Were they keeping her in a freezer?