“Let’s see how tomorrow goes and make some decisions then,” I suggest.
I walk over to Rowan and give him a tight hug and confess quietly, “I’m so glad that Jade was here for you. By the way, you were wrong. I would’ve noticed. I would’ve noticed a lot if you weren’t in my life I would’ve missed you every single day. I know I don’t say this enough, but I love you, Little A.”
There’s nothing like a near-death experience to make you realize all the things you’ve left unsaid with your family. Finn, Rowan and I had a lot of years to make up for and many unfinished conversations between us. It’s several hours later before I finally cry uncle and go back to the little cottage behind the main house where Jade and I are staying.
I expected Jade to be sound asleep at this hour, I’m alarmed when I find her curled up in the fetal position in the middle of our bed. She is clutching a bag of frozen vegetables. She has one shoe on and one shoe off. Alarmingly, she is not speaking to me at all; she’s just shaking and rocking, the rhythm broken only by soft moans of pain. Desperate, I get into bed behind her and pull her gently to my chest. That movement seems to startle her out of her haze of pain. When I see that she’s placed the garbage can on the bed, things become clearer.
“Migraine?” I whisper.
She places her finger on her lips asking me to be quiet as she carefully nods.
I have a few friends with headaches, but Jade’s are worse than anyone’s I’ve ever seen. Whenever I try to talk to her about them she just dismisses my concerns. She says that they’re due to stress or hormones or her emotions, but it seems like she has them all the time.
Helplessly, I hold her in my arms until she stops shaking and we both fall asleep. My nightmares are terrifying, but the disorienting thing is that they’re not more horrifying than what’s happening in my real life.
CLAIRE’S NERVOUS ENERGY IS RADIATING OFF her like light from a glow stick at a rock concert. She is working exceptionally hard to pretend that everything is perfect and absolutely normal when it’s clearly not. It only takes one glance at the empty spot at the dinner table to understand the impact of Rowan’s absence. No one seems willing or able to talk about what’s happening with him — even I feel stuck. As a guest, it’s not really my place to make sure that everyone works through their feelings. On the other hand, acting as if nothing happened and Rowan just stepped out to get the newspaper clearly isn’t helping things. Claire looks as if she could burst into tears at any second.
The tension grows as we set the table in silence. Finally, she looks up at me with tear filled eyes as she asks, “I don’t understand why they wouldn’t let him come home for dinner? We’re just celebrating Connie’s discharge from the hospital. Why couldn’t he come home for just a few hours? It’s like they have him locked in jail or something. He didn’t do anything wrong!”
“No, Claire; he didn’t do anything wrong. In order for him to get help, the doctors have to monitor everything. They’ve been putting him on different medications and having the psychologists and psychiatrists talk to him a lot. He’s been bombarded with all sorts of different questions and different medications. It’s a lot to take in. They have to do that in isolated environments so that he doesn’t get totally overwhelmed. This decision isn’t personal. I know that it feels that way, but it really isn’t. They make those decisions for his safety and the family’s. Holiday get-togethers under the best of circumstances can be very stressful. He is the safest spot right now, you have to believe that.”
Claire pulls out a dining chair and slowly sits down in it. “Jade, I’m just so sad. My baby thought it would be better to be dead than to live one day longer. What kind of mom does that make me? I had absolutely no idea. He didn’t even want to tell me about it. My child used to tell me everything!” Claire cries, wiping away tears. “Why would he stop when it really mattered?”
I also pull out a chair and sit down. I grab her hands across the table and squeeze as I say, “Claire, there are no great answers to those questions. I know that my mom asked those very same questions after my brother committed suicide. They haunt her dreams. They haunt to mine too. Onyx and I were really close — people often thought we were twins. We could finish each other’s sentences. Unfortunately, it seems that he left off paragraphs and pages of his life. I thought he was having fun in college. He would send me funny updates and pictures. On the surface, everything looked fine. I didn’t know to look deeper.”
Claire swipes at the tears falling as she asks me, “How do I ever forgive myself for missing all of the signs? If you hadn’t been here, my baby might be dead.”
Her desperate question lands with the force of the physical blow. “I don’t know the answer to that,” I whisper hoarsely. “If you ever find the answer, let me know.”
“I can’t believe you made me apple pie without the crust,” grouses Connor, as he practically licks the pattern off his plate. “What’s this frozen yogurt stuff? I like that homemade vanilla ice cream, you know the one made with pure cream?”
“I know what you like, Dear, but that’s what got you into this mess. I just got you home from the hospital. I’d rather not have to take you back right away. I’m following exactly what the dietitian told me to make for you.”
Declan smirks as he adds, “Dad, it doesn’t seem like you really like it any less.”
“Truth be told, it’s pretty good but I just don’t like anybody telling me what I can and can’t eat. I’m old enough to choose my own food.”
“Connor, you listen here. That night when we spent all those hours in the waiting room waiting to hear whether you would live or die are pretty much the scariest that I’ve ever lived through in my life. I never want to do that again. So help me God, if I have to, I will feed you lettuce and turnips for the rest of our lives,” she threatens.
Declan laughs out loud as he remarks, “Watch out! She’s pulling out the big guns now.”
“Claire, now you know that’s not funny. I hate turnips,” Connor whines.
“I know you do, and so do I. If that’s what I have to do to keep you safe, I will. Don’t complain about what I cook for you — I’m only doing it for your own well-being.”
“You’re right, dinner was delicious. I shouldn’t be complaining, especially after all that hospital food,” he responds apologetically. Much to my dismay, he turns to me and says, “I noticed you didn’t eat much, is there something wrong with your food?”
Nothing like being publicly busted. I’ve been spending the last forty-five minutes pretending to be invisible. I didn’t want to ruin Claire’s dinner because she’s been working on it for days. She’s probably been planning for many years for the time that her family would be reunited. I didn’t want to let a freaking migraine put a damper on her day. She’s already stressed out enough because Rowan isn’t here. Consequently, I’ve been gamely hanging in there. It’s not easy because the smell of food makes me profoundly nauseous. Any movement or sound is enough to make me want to cry.
“Just a little headache,” I admit, in a colossal understatement. “It tends to take away my appetite.”
“Seriously? Again?” exclaims Declan in a frustrated growl. “They must be able to fix those somehow.”
Finn begins clearing the dishes off the table. “I’m sorry, those must be awful,” he comments, as he tries to rearrange the dirty pans beside the sink.
Suddenly, the huge stack of pans falls on the hardwood floor in an avalanche of earsplitting sound. I cry out in pain as my stomach revolts and my vision goes black.
What is that god-awful smell? What am I doing sitting on Declan’s lap? Why is there a guy who looks like he should be changing my tires shining some damn light in my eyes?
I struggle in Declan’s arms as I try to figure out what’s going on.
“Jade, do you need to throw up again?” Claire asks, pushing a dishpan toward me.
I fight to sit up straight as I mumble, “No, I don’t think so.”
The guy
in blue coveralls directs, “Ma’am, stay still.” He turns to Declan and asks as he shines a flashlight in my face, “So, she didn’t hit her head?”
The additional light is enough to make me cry out and want to gag again.
“Is that really necessary? Have you ever heard of light sensitivity? She has a freaking migraine!” Declan hisses.
“I have to ascertain that she doesn’t have a head injury, sir,” Coverall Guy replies. “I wish you’d let me put her on a backboard.”
Just then, another person comes to the room and I realize that coverall guy must be a paramedic because this guy is pushing some gurney thing. Coverall Guy’s words finally sink in. “Backboard? Why would I need a backboard? I just have a stupid headache like I always get.” I look down at the disgusting wet blotches on my clothes and begrudgingly admit, “The only difference this time is I guess I threw up all over myself. I don’t usually do that. I must be really, really tired or something.”
An unreadable expression crosses Declan’s face as he quietly corrects me in a sad, somber tone, “No, J. It was way more than that this time. You passed out. Right in the middle of dessert. I couldn’t even wake you up — that’s why I called the paramedics.”
“I’m sorry for all the drama, but I’m sure that it’s just a stupid headache. I just need to take my migraine medicine and get some rest. I’ll be fine,” I insist.
“Ma’am, I think we really need to take you in. It’s unusual for someone your age to get such severe migraines without a reason,” the paramedic driving the gurney instructs.
Connor walks over to where Declan and I are sitting. He looks down at me and shakes his head as he states, “I want you to listen to me close, Missy; my missus and my son are pretty close to you and my other son is alive because of you. I won’t have you be as dumb as me and put off taking care yourself. My own stupidity almost cost me my life. I don’t want to see you make the same mistakes. Please, for me, go to the doctor and have yourself checked out. It would give me and the missus some peace of mind.”
I glance up at Declan’s tense face as I ask, “Will you be there with me?”
Declan nods as he answers, “Of course. Every step of the way.”
As they fasten the last strap on the gurney, I call out to Claire, “I’m sorry I ruined your party.”
Claire just laughs out loud as she says, “I see how my son holds on to you as if his life depends on it. I have a feeling we’ll have many, many more family dinners to attend together.”
IT’S INCREDIBLY DIFFICULT TO WATCH them poke and prod at Jade when I know she’s in so much pain. Usually, her personality fills the room, but she’s so out of it right now that she looks positively tiny against the stark white sheets of the hospital bed. At least we’re in a private room now where it’s not quite as noisy; when we first came in, we were in a large room with several beds. There were victims of car accidents all around us and one person with food poisoning, who was complaining quite loudly about her predicament. The astonishing cacophony of sound was giving me a headache. Eventually after doing preliminary blood work and an MRI, which caused Jade to cry out despite her best efforts to remain stoic, they moved us here. Eventually, Jade gave into the pain medication and went to sleep.
As I watch her doze fitfully, I try to tamp down my panic. I don’t see the calm efficiency that surrounded my dad’s care. It makes me wonder what’s really going on with her. Although many of the doctors and nurses seem to be dismissive and skeptical about her level of pain — as if she would make all of this up — another contingent of them seem to be very concerned about something. Although, they are not saying anything out loud at this point. They just keep adding more and more tests and asking me additional questions about Jade’s family history. I have gotten to know Jade better than anyone I’ve ever known over the past few months and by extension I’ve grown closer to Jett and Diamond, but I don’t know them nearly well enough to give any of Jade’s medical history. I don’t know the answers and something tells me that the doctors think that they might hold the key.
I’m confused about whether I should be treating this like a routine event or a matter of life and death, and the hospital personnel isn’t giving me any clear guidance. I can’t seem to tame the thoughts in my head as I replay the moment she lost consciousness at dinner over and over. I thought my heart was going to stop on the spot. My dad grew pasty pale and his breathing sped up, but apparently the pacemaker did its job. My mom is beside herself with worry. She’d like to be here with me at the hospital, but she needs to stay home with my dad. Finn drove me here but went back home to be with Mom and Dad. While Jade is sleeping I am alone with my thoughts. Put simply, my thoughts are a scary place right now. First, I almost lost my brother and it looks very much like I might lose Jade. I don’t know if that’s true or not but right now, my heart doesn’t really care. All I can think about is what my life would look like without her in it and it’s not a pretty sight. I want to be arguing with Jade about whether we should mow the lawn in a checker pattern or diagonally. I know it sounds stupid but I love what our life together has become.
If you had told me all those months ago that I was going to want to put down roots and shop for garage door openers and mailbox locks, I would’ve told you that you were absolutely crazy. There is something about being in love with Jade that allows me to find my freedom within myself instead of having to look for it everywhere else. It’s the weirdest thing. The insatiable drive to conquer my wanderlust is gone. I have found the one place in the world I want to be. I want to be by Jade’s side forever. Given my past, that’s a pretty big statement to make, but it’s where I’m at.
Jade mumbles my name in her sleep. I rush over to her side and grab her hand. “I’m here. What do you need?”
“Hospital sucks,” she declares sleepily as she grimaces in pain.
“I agree. I think we’ve had this conversation once or twice,”
“I stink, smell like puke,” she complains.
I shrug as I respond, “I’ll agree, it’s not my favorite perfume on you but it’s not the worst thing that could’ve happened to you today.” I walk over to the hospital sink and start running some hot water. “Wouldn’t be the first time I’ve cleaned up puke in my life. Looks like they’ve got baby soap here or that pink stuff, which would you prefer?”
“Declan, are we just supposed to start doing stuff? Don’t we have to ask permission?”
“We’re hospital experts by now, remember? If we don’t bother your IV, I don’t think they care much. Besides, didn’t you do the same thing for me when I was in the hospital? I vaguely remember being totally covered in blood and you fixing that all up for me,” I tease, hoping to draw a smile and lighten the mood.
“Yeah, but that was different. You were having a hygiene emergency. If all that had dried on you, you would have been an itchy mess. You were not in any position to scratch yourself back then.”
“Oh well, if that’s all it takes, then I declare this a hygiene emergency. You’ll be very uncomfortable if you stay sticky and dirty. In order to preserve your mental health, I’m going to clean you up.”
Jade gives me a weak a grin as she responds, “Wow, you’re good at this. I think I would like the baby soap please. The other kind smells funky. Funk on top of funk is never good.”
I don’t see a dishpan around anywhere so I just have to ring out the washcloth and carry it over. I do my best to carefully wash every inch of Jade that I can reach. I stop briefly when I see the tiny butterfly with the angel wings and the body composed from a semicolon. I’ve seen this tattoo on her neckline behind her ear hundreds of times, I thought that intellectually, I understood the meaning of it. It wasn’t until the incident with Rowan that I truly understood what it meant to pause and take a breath. I will never look at a semicolon the same way.
“You know Jade, I never got a chance to say thank you. Not everyone would have been as brave or patient as you were that night. It is because of you that thi
ngs are going to be okay with Rowan.”
“I don’t know that I can take all the credit for that,” Jade responds with a self-deprecating shrug. “Rowan was just in a tough spot. I think with some help, he’ll be stronger soon.”
Around the time that I’ve moved down to Jade’s feet, the ER doctor comes in holding a clipboard. When she notices what I’m doing, she smiles at Jade, “Wow, aren’t you a lucky one. I wish I had been able to convince my husband to do that for me when I was pregnant. Your feet just kind of disappear.”
Jade nods as she agrees, “I’ve hit the boyfriend lottery for sure.”
The doctor consults her clipboard as she declares, “There are still a couple of tests I’m waiting for, but I would really like to see you stay here for a while. Your migraines are pretty atypical and some of your tests are concerning.”
Jade struggles to sit up in bed and becomes alarmingly pale. After I crank up the head of her bed, she addresses the doctor. “I don’t really need to stay in the hospital for a headache, do I? I’ve had these headaches for as long as I can remember. I need to sleep it off in a dark room with something cold on my head. I don’t sleep well at the hospital. I tried to do it when my grandparents had to spend time in the rehab center after their strokes, it just didn’t work very well.”
“I can’t make you stay, but I think your migraines are more than just run-of-the-mill headaches. The episode you had today was pretty serious and we need to find out what caused it,” the doctor reasons.
“I don’t know; it just seems like a lot for headaches I’ve had forever.”
“Could you deal with the pain level you’ve got right now at home?” the doctor asks Jade with a raised eyebrow.
Jade slumps in the bed as she admits, “Probably not for long.”
“Then we probably need to keep you here until we figure out what’s going on.”
Hearts of Jade (A Hidden Hearts Novel Book 3) Page 17
