Until he walked into Mason’s bedroom, he had no idea Sydney was there. She had parked her car in the garage and, aside from the occasional gusts of air conditioning coming through the vents, there was nothing else on to make a sound.
“Hey!” he greeted her, as she lay across the bed.
She glanced up at him with a smile, but said nothing. He walked into the room and straight to the closet to grab one of Mason’s overnight bags.
“How have you been?”
“Good, I guess,” she muttered unconvincingly.
“I haven’t seen you at the hospital.”
“…I know,” she responded. “I just haven’t felt up to it.”
Jackson could hear the dread in her voice and didn’t push the issue. It was hard enough for him to see Mason the way he was. He could only imagine how hard it must be for Sydney. She watched as he flopped the duffle bag onto the bed beside her and began pulling clothes from Mason’s drawers. It was awkward for a brief moment, but overall she was happy to see a familiar face.
“I miss him,” she sadly murmured.
Jackson stood next to her, refolding the shirt he had just thrown into the bag. “He’s not gone, you know.”
“I know, but…I just can’t see him like that.”
“None of us can, but we do; or I do I can’t speak for anyyone else.” He paused. “Look, he’s not going to be in a coma forever-”
“You don’t know that.”
“I do. And I also know that when he wakes up, my ugly face is the last thing he’s going to want to see.”
Sydney sat up from the bed with her fingers interlaced on her lap. “I doubt that…”
“You doubt what, that he’d want to see you instead of me? Why?”
“We had a pretty bad argument the night of the accident.”
Jackson shook his head. “It couldn’t have been all that bad,” he assured her.
She grimaced, “It was.”
That made him curious, noticing how taken back and almost ashamed she seemed. An argument between Sydney and Mason was really none of his business, but she had made him interested. “What was the argument about?” he asked, trying not to sound to nosey.
He walked back and forth from the chest of drawers to the duffle bag, sensing her reluctance to go into it. “You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to. That was between you and Mason.”
“No, I don’t mind,” she paused.
Sydney sat up on the bed as Jackson moved about, not really sure if she should tell him even though she said she didn’t mind. She honestly couldn’t remember if Mason mentioned that he’d told him or not. They were already dealing with so much with him being in a coma; the last thing she wanted to do was to make things worse. She wondered, though, does it really matter at this point?
“I asked him what happened,” she eased out.
“What happened with what?” Jackson inquired.
“With your step father. I asked him what happened.”
The silence that followed was razor sharp. The air between them grew thick and tense almost as fast as the words traveled from her mouth to Jackson’s ears. His silence was obviously because he was at a loss for words, in disbelief and shock at what he had just heard.
“Why would you ask him that?” he questioned.
“When I asked him I had no idea about your stepfather. I just thought something stupid happened to him when he was young that made him react the way he did to my father.”
“Wait,” Jackson shook his head, making sure he had heard her correctly. “He told you about Kevin?”
“I almost wish he hadn’t,” she uttered remorsefully.
“Unbelievable.”
“What do you mean, ‘unbelievable’?”
“It’s no wonder he was acting the way he was.” Jackson’s tone grew angry. “He never showed up for work that morning so I figured the two of you were just catching up, but then every time I called his phone it went straight to voicemail. Mason always answers his phone. But wow, now I understand.” He shook his head. “Why the hell would you ask him about that!?”
“First of all I didn’t ask him about that in particular. I asked him what happened to him as a general question, and that’s what he told me. I didn’t expect him to tell me what he did.”
Jackson cut his eye at her with a look of discord. “Well, what did you expect, for him to tell you his life was a bed of roses?”
Sydney stood up off the bed feeling highly irritated and alienated. “I really don’t understand why you’re getting so defensive.”
“Of course you don’t, I really wouldn’t expect you to.”
“Okay, I guess all of this is my fault. I guess I let out the big bad family secret, right?”
“No, more like Pandora’s box, Sydney. Do you have any idea how bad it was for him?”
“Yeah…he told me-”
“NO! He told you bits and pieces. He didn’t tell you how this secret; him not talking about it none of us talking about it kept him from committing suicide when he was sixteen for the second time.”
“So you all knew about what was happening to him and you just, what, pretended not to know what was going on?”
“No, we didn’t know about it. I didn’t find out until he moved out right after high school. But my mother…she knew. She knew for years and never once did anything to stop it. I don’t know if she was afraid, but I know she wasn’t there for Mason when he needed her. I wasn’t there. Our father wasn’t there. No one was there. So no, you didn’t let out the family secret,” he said sarcastically “You just reminded him that there was one.”
He shoved the top drawer of the wardrobe closed, knocking a few bottles of cologne onto the floor.
“So you really are saying this is my fault?” Sydney asked, shielding her tears behind a trembling voice.
“I’m saying Mason had his own way of dealing with things and he didn’t need anyone trying to…help him.”
“Jackson, I was only—”
“Trying to help…I know,” he cut her off, making his way towards the door.
If she hadn’t felt guilty before, she definitely did now. Jackson was right. She thought back on the way Mason exploded walking out of the condo that morning. The look on his face, the sound of his voice had been angry but more than that he was ashamed, and it was her fault. Had she not said a word to him had she not tried to be that person who thought talking fixed everything he wouldn’t have left, he wouldn’t have gone to that bar, he wouldn’t have gotten on his motorcycle, and he wouldn’t be in a coma. I did this, she thought, this is all my fault.
She picked up one of the bottles of cologne that had fallen on the floor, wiping away her tears with the back of her hand, and placed it on top of the wardrobe. Jackson’s shadow hovered in the doorway. He was angry but it wasn’t right to throw all of this on Sydney as if she was solely at fault. He knew her, and she’d been the best thing that ever happened to his brother. At the end of the day he knew all she really wanted to do was help.
“Sydney…” he eased out, hearing her pull back her tears. “It’s not your fault.”
“Yeah, but…it is.”
“No, it’s not. You asked him a question and he answered. Mason trusted you enough to tell you. I just don’t think he was really ready to remember.” He turned back into the room, leaning in the door frame. “Sydney, you know as much as I do that Mason loves you. What you don’t know is, he’ll never tell you and that’s because the last time he told someone he loved them they hurt him in the worst way possible. And the last woman who told him she loved him sat back and watched it happen. He’s never stepped foot in a church since that time because he blames God. Before you, he never let himself feel much of anything for anyone because he blamed himself. Mason is a good person but in more ways than you or I will ever know he kept his distance.”
“I could tell. In the very beginning…I could tell.” she uttered.
Sydney kneeled down to pick up the other bottles
of cologne that had fallen on the floor, gathering them in one hand. The duffle bag was still open on the bed and Jackson was still hovering in the doorway. She didn’t intend to, but she found herself in Mason’s top drawer taking out a few of his clothes to pack. Pushing a few undershirts aside, her eyes fixed on a little box wrapped in lilac wrapping paper with a hand tied white bow.
“Don’t open that,” Jackson said softly walking towards her.
“What is this?” Sydney asked, barely letting out the words forced by the enormous rush of emotion that filled her.
“Sydney …that’s not a good idea,” he began.
Before he could finish she undid the bow that was neatly centered around the box and tore into the wrapping paper. She didn’t slow down to open the box, but once it was open she was at a loss for words.
“What is this?” she tearfully looked at Jackson as she turned the box towards him.
“It’s a ring, Sydney,” he nervously admitted.
As she held the box, Jackson’s words faded into the background. Her eyes fell upon a two carat princess cut diamond set in a slim platinum band.
She looked up at him just over the rim of the open box. “But why …does he have …a ring?” she asked.
Jackson knew he couldn’t avoid telling her. There was no explanation why Mason would have a brand new diamond ring nestled in the bottom of his drawer.
“He was going to ask you to marry him.”
Chapter 36
It had finally stopped raining after what felt like three days of monsoon weather. Sydney, like clockwork, sat patiently outside of Mason’s room. Many of the nurses walking by had come to know her pretty well, waving as they passed or making light conversation in between lunch breaks and shift changes. In the days that had passed since she last spoke to Jackson, she hadn’t missed a single visit.
The sound of the door opening disrupted her thoughts as she stared out of the window across from her. With the sky so clear and blue it was easy for her to get lost in her thoughts. It allowed her to break away if only for a moment from the realities of her life.
“How is he today?” she asked the doctor who was performing Mason’s daily checkup.
The nurse that assisted him was opening the blinds as the doctor finished writing in his chart.
“Uh, he’s doing as good as expected,” he said, “Can I speak with you for just a minute?”
He pulled Sydney aside, just outside of the room. “I know you aren’t ready to make these decisions, but eventually you or someone will have to.”
“What decisions?” Sydney asked.
“The decision on how far you would like us to go.”
She tilted her head in confusion, hoping he wasn’t saying what it sounded like. “I’m sorry, but what exactly do you mean by how far I would like you to go?”
“Ma’am, your husband ––” the doctor continued.
“He’s not my husband,” she countered.
“Well…your friend,” he corrected himself, “is in a coma. There’s been little to no improvement over the last few weeks and the farther out we get the less likely he’s presumed to come out of this.”
“I thought you just said he was doing good.”
“Yes …as good as can be expected. Given his injuries, the mere fact that he still has brain function is a miracle.”
It was more than she wanted to hear. “I’m sorry,” she interrupted, “I really can’t do this right now.”
She walked past the doctor back into Mason’s room and sat in the chair beside his bed. It was obvious she was offended. Where is his compassion? she thought. Why would he just come out and say something like that?
“I’m really sorry about that. Dr. Melson doesn’t have the best bedside manner when dealing with situations like this,” Meghan chimed in.
“I’ve noticed,” Sydney responded, still somewhat taken aback. “How are you today, Meghan?”
It wasn’t Meghan’s traditional duty, but she had asked to be assigned to Mason while he was in the hospital. A part of her felt the family, and especially Sydney, would appreciate a familiar face when coming to visit.
“I’m doing well, thank you. I’m so glad this rain finally let up.”
Sydney shook her head, looking towards Mason. “Sometimes it feels like it hasn’t stopped raining since he’s been in here.”
“Well, it can’t rain forever,” Meghan encouraged her. “Eventually the sun comes out, the clouds disappear, and everything goes back to normal.”
“You are always so chipper. I really appreciate that.”
Meghan laughed, “Life’s too short to spend it behind anger and sadness.”
Of all the nurses, Sydney trusted Meghan the most. During her visits, the two of them talked about almost everything. Meghan was always there making sure Sydney was comfortable, but even more importantly, making sure Mason was comfortable.
“I wanted to leave the blinds open for a while, I hope you don’t mind. After all the rain I think a little sunlight might just bring a smile to Mason’s face,” Meghan suggested.
She always talked to and about him as if he could hear and respond to her.
Sydney smiled. “I don’t mind at all.”
“So, what’s on your mind?” Meghan had started towards the door, but noticed Sydney gazing off into the distance and stopped to turn around.
“I’m sorry, what did you say?”
“My point exactly. What’s on your mind?”
“I don’t know.” She paused. “A lot, I guess.”
“You’re thinking about what Dr. Melson said, aren’t you?”
Sydney lightly chuckled.
“I really wish I weren’t, but-”
“But now you’re even more worried, right?”
Of course I’m worried, she thought to herself, but didn’t answer. She looked at Mason’s breathing tube fastened to his neck with bandages, the tape holding his IV’s in place on his arms, the braces mending the broken bones in his leg. She didn’t have to say she was worried. The look on her face said it all, and as she broke her eyes away from him to look at Meghan, it was obvious the nurse knew it as well.
“Is he really that bad? I mean, bad to the point of making that …decision?”
Meghan moved to the foot of the hospital bed after writing a few notes on Mason’s chart.
“They never told you how bad he was when he came in, did they?”
Sydney shook her head.
Meghan wasn’t surprised, but she saddened at the thought of Sydney not knowing and surviving on a false sense of hope.
She had to tell her.
“When Mason came in, he had already lost a lot of blood. Although we put him in an induced coma, there was no doubt with the severity of his head injury that he may have already been in one. He was unconscious when the paramedics arrived, so there was no way to tell. From the time he came in his eyes never opened, not once,” she paused. “His leg was shattered almost to the point of amputation. Six of his ribs were broken, along with his wrist and his right arm. He had a lot of internal bleeding, a punctured lung, and a contusion on his brain that caused the swelling, which is what they will tell you is the cause of him coma.”
“And what do you think?”
Meghan leaned back with a smile on her face that almost shocked Sydney. “I think he’s lucky to be alive. He’s a survivor and, coma or not, I just think he needed a little rest.”
Only Meghan and her odd sense of cheer would see ‘needing a little rest’ as a reason for being in a coma. For the first time in a long while, though, Sydney genuinely laughed. “You just won’t let me stay upset, will you?”
“Why should I?” Meghan paused. “He wouldn’t,” she added, nodding her head towards Mason.
They laughed themselves into a moment of silence, until the hour grew late and it was just Sydney and Mason that remained in the small, dimly lit hospital room. Off and on she had fallen asleep beside him, next to him, resting her head on him. Whether it was her
face resting upon his hand or his arm, she wasn’t letting any part of him go. She turned her face, still resting on his hand, and glanced up at him lying still and asleep. He was like an angel, and beyond every tube, every beeping monitor, and every cast and bandage Sydney saw him and loved him. Her voice was soft enough to be a whisper as she spoke, but loud enough to send a chill through his hand as her face rested on it.
“I really admire you, you know,” she admitted. “You are the strongest, the smartest, and the most beautiful man I have ever known. You survived …everything, and you are going to survive this.”
She moved her face from his hand and leaned towards his ear, close enough to make sure not a word she spoke would go unheard. “Now, I know you are resting,” she said as a single warm tear rolled from her eye across the bridge of her nose, “and I know you’re tired, but I need you to wake up. I need you…to hear me…say…yes. Yes, I will marry you.”
Chapter 37
Sydney’s days became routine. After waking up around seven o’clock in the morning she’d make breakfast: two eggs, toast, grits, and sausage. She’d get in the shower, sit in front of the mirror and do her hair, get dressed, and leave for the hospital before her roommate Aisha woke up. Every day shared the burden of newfound hope and continued disappointment. Mason had been comatose for seven weeks and, just like the day before, nothing had changed. What’s going on in there, Mason? she thought to herself as she glanced over him before she sat down.
“Dr. Melson’s going to be in shortly to speak with you,” Meghan warned her.
“You know, I’m really not the one he should be speaking with.”
“Actually…you are.”
“What do you mean I am?” she asked.
“Jackson came by last week and made sure you were listed in Mason’s chart as a contact if he was unable to be reached. Since we haven’t been able to reach him for the last couple of days, Dr. Melson will be speaking with you.”
Where We Left Off Page 19
