Wait for Me

by Shannon Alexander

  She was nearly unrecognizable. Her once bleach blonde hair was now cut into a choppy pixie cut. Her face was bruised in several places, some marks older than others, but she was happy to see me. Her little girl, who she named Elizabeth, was in a basinet beside her bed. If it weren’t for the police officer outside of her hospital room door, I wouldn’t know what had happened to her, by the way she was smiling and acting like all was well.

  Eric was being held in the county jail without bail. He was going to be tried for attempted murder. Stacy didn’t want to talk about what had happened. Just that she found out, after she went to the hospital, that Eric had hired someone to kill her. Apparently when he married Stacy, he was marrying her for her parents money, money they inherited after a long lost relative passed away. But his river of Stacy’s cash had run dry right after he married her, he was actually shocked to find out that her parents cut her off for marrying him. Their whole plan was to try and spoil her, then threaten to take it all away if she wouldn’t leave him. Stacy, being stubborn, and secretly pregnant, married him out of spite. Sure he was controlling, but he loved her, or so she thought. Once he ran out of her parents money he began to unravel completely, his need for meth was spiraling out of control, and he thought a life insurance policy would change everything. A policy on Stacy. Except Eric, being the drug addicted loser that he turned out to be, didn’t realize that he hired an undercover Fed who was building a drug case against one of the areas largest dealers, Eric’s main supplier. Eric was merely a pawn in the whole scheme of things, until the Feds realized his part in the play was a lot more sinister then they ever imagined. Of course he wasn’t arrested right away. Apparently the case was pending on something happening with a drug deal. Stacy was collateral so to speak. That’s when police and her parents found Stacy, 7 months pregnant on the bedroom floor of her and Eric’s apartment. Unconscious.

  Eric was nowhere to be found. Matt found him hanging out at a strip club near Savannah. Spending money on drinks for everyone in the bar, thinking that the only person who was going to be finding his wife, was the person he hired to kill her, and he assumed that the hitman would clean up the mess, make Stacy’s death look like a break in, so because he was impatient, Eric pummeled her during a drug-fueled rage, assuming that the “hitman” he hired would be coming by shortly to finish the job. He left her there, lying in a pool of her own blood. Of course during the police investigation and the need for them to wait on the pending drug deal to actually arrest Eric, it was never intended for her to be hurt, but she was. Her parents freaked out, but there was nothing they could do about it now.

  Not only was Eric facing abuse, drug and attempted murder charges, but he was also facing fraud charges for the life insurance scheme. He was never going to be released now. No way.

  And that notion alone explained why the girl in front of me, the one who I met my freshman year in high school, my very best friend in the whole world, was acting as if her life was perfectly normal. Stacy finally felt safe.

  She didn’t talk to me much after that party, when I found out that Jessica and Tyler were getting married for sure, now that she was pregnant. I knew that was because of Eric. He changed so much after high school. He was no longer a nice guy. He held on to Stacy like a life preserver, and he made sure that she lost everything and everyone who meant anything to her.

  I don’t know why she stayed for so long. I don’t know why she put up with him taking her away from everything she loved. I don’t know why anyone would let another human being do that to them. But I knew that Stacy was by far, one of the strongest people I had ever met. Her mom died when she was a baby, leaving her father to remarry a woman Stacy hated, and who hated Stacy right in return, but they were her parents, wicked step-mother included, and she had no choice in the matter. She prevailed though, she rose above her terrible home life. She did well in school and was on her way to a really great life. The fact that she let Eric tangle that all up was not easy for her, but after years of stewing hatred for her step-mother, she needed an escape and Eric seemed like the perfect way to leave her family behind for good.

  There was going to be a trial. Stacy would have to testify to all the things that were happening in their home. She knew that he was using drugs, but he never used them in their home. She was finding out bits and pieces of this entire other life this man she was married to had been living while they were together. The fact that he hired someone to kill her was an obvious blow to her. Even with all the abuse and the chaos, she was hurt, because she honestly believed that in some strange way he loved her.

  And I felt like I was responsible for so much of it. If I had stayed in town, if I had made it a point to fly down and see her, maybe it wouldn’t have become so bad for her. I was her best friend, and she was mine and when she really needed me, I wasn’t there. I was off in New York, living up my dream as a writer, becoming engaged to a doctor. My life was almost perfect and hers. Hers was a mess.

  She knew I was going to Germany to see Tyler. She is one of the ones who told me it was something I needed to do.

  It was typical Stacy, giving me strength to do something when her life had just fallen apart.

  I only left her because she promised me that she was going to be okay. She told me that I needed to do this, and that she would be right there waiting for me and supporting me when I got back.

  So I left Evan with mom, boarded a plane and flew half way across the world for the man who broke my heart 3 years ago, and never looked back.

  Chapter twenty-four

  It is cold in Germany. Quiet and cold, when my taxi pulls up to the large Military hospital around 2am.

  Sharon is unable to get any more time off from work, when I arrive at the hospital, she is leaving. She stops me at the hospital entrance on her way out.

  “He hasn’t stopped asking for you since you and I last spoke.” She tells me, linking her arm through mine and leading me toward a quiet waiting room with leather chairs, several vending machines and a TV playing a German news channel with English subtitles scrolling along the bottom.

  The hospital is enormous, housing thousands of beds, all filled with military members of different branches, different statuses. Some with simple wounds, others would never see the outside of this hospital again.

  It smells of death, which is something you really can’t ignore or ever forget. We are near an emergency entrance when an emergency crew suddenly rolls in, a gurney carrying a man badly burnt. A pair of blood shot eyes looking straight at me, the patient’s head turned to the right, facing Sharon and I. I can’t make out if it is a male or female. The portable heart monitor flat lines shortly after the hospital staff cross the threshold.

  An authoritative voice booms instructions, and I watch as doctors and nurses alike begin performing quick actions attempting revival, their attempts useless. The same voice calls a time of death in a perfect American accent. Looking at Sharon and I in the waiting room for a brief moment. His shoulders slump slightly and then he straightens himself up, gives us a quick nod and takes a metal medical chart from the nurse standing beside him.

  I turn back towards Sharon. She’s not shocked like I am, then again this is what she does for a living. She is a nurse, she knows the game, and she has helped to save lives on her own. I have never until this very moment seen someone die.

  “So.” Sharon interrupts my thinking bringing me back to our conversation “Tyler is expecting you, I really wish I could stay but that damn hospital would fall apart without me I swear.”

  I laugh. She loves her job, not as much as she loves her son, but it means something to her. It is what makes her who she is. Being a nurse has always been who she has been. She tried her best to be a good mother, I know she would do anything for Tyler, but mothering is not her calling, nursing is.

  “He was in pretty rough shape, about a month ago, when I finally called you. They will discharge him in a few days, but only to the medical facility in Georgia. They have a private plane
all lined up for him, you will be able to fly with him, and then if you could just sit with him while he gets adjusted, I think it will be okay. I’ll be able to check in on him every morning before work, we will decide how the rest will go as it happens.”

  I nod in understanding of the plan that has been in place since well before I even flew out to join her here. Sharon and Mom spent a lot of time talking, planning.

  “Are the doctor’s sure it is okay for him to fly?” I ask her

  “They are, but only because we have another facility to take him in and give him proper care. He’s done his service, and he’s discharge from the military. He wants to be home so they are allowing him to do that.”

  Tyler was severely injured when an Army tactical unit found him near death on the ground. The medical units were able to keep him alive long enough to fly him to Germany.

  When he arrived here, he needed several surgeries, a bullet went through his chest striking no organs, but causing some damage to his spinal cord, they were not sure when or if he would ever be able to walk again when he first arrived.

  When I heard the news, I cried. He nearly died trying to protect and save a man in his troop. The same guy who came with him to my High School graduation.

  That was the Tyler I knew, a man who would put his life on the line to save someone else.

  So when Sharon called me, telling me that he needed me to fly to Germany to be there for him, I didn’t really think twice. It wasn’t a decision I made alone of course, I talked to mom and dad and they agreed right away, he needed me. He was only asking for me. Our personal bull shit aside, he was a member of our family.

  He was dealing with some serious PTSD stuff. Nightmares, fits of rage, in only a few short weeks since arriving in the hospital, he seemed to be angry most of the time. His mom said it was to be expected, it wasn’t his fault, he was a Man of War, a lot of them came home this way, but the issue was he didn’t even really want his mom. She often sat outside of his room, kitting and reading, but always staying close in the small chance he wanted her.

  The only reason she really knew what he truly wanted, was in the middle of the night, when he would cry out in fear while he slept. He would cry out for me.

  When the nurses would rush in to calm him, alerting him to his new surroundings and sedate him if necessary, he would see Sharon, and he would just simply say “I need her.”

  I talked to Heath, he was supportive of me going to Germany. The day before I left, he asked me when I expected to be back in Georgia. I explained that we shouldn’t be out of the country for long, but that I would let him know as soon I was back.

  He wanted to be there for me. I think he was trying to understand why I felt the need to fly half way around the world for an ex, when I honestly don’t think he would do the same for his.

  But this wasn’t his ex. This wasn’t his life, he didn’t have an entire childhood of happy memories riding on one other human being. A person who needed me, and I needed to put all my upset feelings with the Evan situation, and the lack of support on Tyler’s side for my situation and be there for him.

  Heath would just have to understand and be patient.

  Chapter twenty-five

  Sharon has to leave before she is able to break the inevitable awkward reunion between Tyler and I.

  “Just go in and sit with him, he hasn’t really allowed me in there so I have no idea how he is feeling or what he is thinking. Just sit with him and when he wakes up, smile and be there for him. If he lets you stay, I will be seriously impressed.”

  That is the jest her advice before she kisses my cheek and walk to the taxi waiting for her just outside of the hospital sliding doors.

  Just be there for him.

  I could do that. I could be there for Tyler.

  I check my phone one last time, a few texts from Heath, a text with a picture of a sleeping Evan from mom and a “you can do this.” From Stacy.

  When I reach the nurses station, a large woman who looks mighty unhappy to be interrupted from her book glares at me when I clear my throat to gain her attention.

  “Yes?” Her scratchy voice booms.

  “I’m looking for Tyler Pierce’s room.” I state

  “Name please?”

  “Alyssa, Alyssa Abbott.”

  The nurse smiles, showing a few crooked teeth, but friendly all the same.

  “Ah, so you are the famous Alyssa?” she asks, standing to walk me in the correct direction.

  “I guess so, Sharon must have told you I was coming?” I question her knowledge of who I am.

  “No, not Sharon, Mr. Pierce talks about you often, mostly in his sleep, sometimes during his vital checks, but he speaks of you often either way.”

  I’m not sure what to do with this information, so I decide it’s a good idea to ask her a few questions I was unable to ask Sharon.

  “Does he know that I am coming?”

  She pauses walking, and turns to face me.

  “I see a lot of men and women come through these halls. Some in better condition than him, and a lot more who don’t survive the ride here. But do you know what each and every one of them has in common Miss Abbot?” She looks to me for a response

  “No.” I reply

  “They each have something or someone they are holding on for. For some men, it’s their fellow troops they feel they need to return and finish the fight, even though some of them have lost limbs, an organ or even their sight. For some, it’s nothing more than the will to live and see another day. And for others it’s their wives, their children and their parents. Tyler’s mother sat here every single day for the last month, waiting for him to need her. After a while she realized it wasn’t her that he needed, or wanted for that matter. It was you.”

  “He fights hard, and it is you he is fighting for. I don’t understand why some men seem more determined than others. It’s one of those things I wish we could bottle up and give some to those who show a little less desire to make it through. Tyler, he loves you. I don’t normally get involved in my patient’s private lives, but to answer your question; he has no idea you are coming. Sharon wasn’t sure you would show up, and I have a strong feeling that this might be a little hard on him, but I think he needs you.”

  We are still standing in the hallway, facing one another.

  “What do you mean hard on him?”

  She looks around, to see if anyone else is within hearing distance.

  “Sharon wasn’t listed as his next of kin, you are. So I can share this medical information with you. I think it might be easier than waiting until you are in the room with him. There is a chance, due to the injury that Tyler may never walk again. A fact that he refuses to believe. Add that to his PTSD outbursts, nothing too serious, but he does often have traumatic nightmares, and he can become angry quickly. It’s not who he will be forever, but with his diagnosis, your arrival may be a blessing to him, and a curse in other ways. I want you to be prepared. Just stay with him, be with him, and when it becomes too much, come and sit out here with me, I work 12 hour shifts 5 days a week.”

  She smiles and pats my hand, motioning for me to enter the room we have been standing outside for the last 15 minutes. First impressions told me this woman was scary, and mean. I know now that she is anything but. However all of the information she just passed my way, is making me nervous. More nervous than I was boarding the plane to come here.

  I walked through security 3 times. At one point a TSA agent called me into an office to ensure that I was not a terrorist.

  I debated skipping the flight. Leaving Sharon to care for Tyler, leaving anyone else but me to take care of him.

  But then mom sat me down and told me that I needed to do this. I knew deep down that I cared enough about Tyler still, I that I had to do this. For him and for me.

  But getting here wasn’t easy.

  I push through and open the door to his hospital room.

  The nurse behind me is talking, I think she says that her name is
Helga, but all I can hear is my heart pounding in my chest.

  The air quickly leaves my lungs, causing me to gasp.

  Tyler is laying on the bed in the center of the room.

  The hospital TV has MTV playing quietly across the room.

  He’s sleeping. A blanket was once covering him, is now only draped over one of his legs. He’s wearing a pair of dark blue no slip socks, and a hospital gown on his upper half. He’s a lot bigger than he was 3 years ago. He’s at least twice the size as the man I remember.

  Helga walks over to him and adjusts his blanket. Tyler does not stir. She takes a look at his monitors. Tyler does not move.

  “Is he in any pain?” I ask in a whisper.

  Tyler turns his head, opens his eyes and looks right at me.

  Helga begins talking to him, reassuring him that he is alright. Explaining that his mother had to return back to work in a soothing voice. I know Tyler knows all of this, but I think Helga is trying to break the ice and keep Tyler calm. I can tell that it takes slight effort the way that she handles him, and cautiously touches him to check his vitals.

  He still watches me through her speech. When she is finally done, she walks towards the door, nodding for me to enter the room fully. It is only then that I realize I was standing right at the entry way.

  When she walks out and closes the door behind her, I take a few very small steps towards the center of the room.

  I take my cell phone out of my pocket to look for a distraction of any sort.

  No texts.

  I look back up in the beautiful green eyes of the man I loved for nearly half of my life and for the first time ever I see fear. Anger. Happiness.

  Chapter twenty-six

  Tyler says nothing for the first hour that I am there.

  I say hi to him, I sit down in a chair close to his bed. Nothing.

  He just watches me.

  Another nurse comes in to check him. He still keeps his eyes trained on me.