by Anthology
Not pink.
Watermelon Spice was the name of the color.
It was her favorite shade of pink.
Is my hair still that color?
“It took a lot of painstaking effort to finally get the color right, but I think we have accomplished it. I never knew making Watermelon Spice would be so difficult.” Royce’s deep, vibrating voice attracted her attention from the stray thoughts. Sometimes it was harder to focus.
A feeling of serenity alerted her to being alone with him. That he was talking to her. They always held conversations this way.
Before her coma, she couldn’t remember the sounds of jars opening, but after being trapped, every sound was so much clearer. She could easily identify the twirl of a lid being removed from a jar. The soft, cushioned sound the jar made as it was settled on the bedside table next to her. She wanted to know what it felt like. Even the rustle of the sheet as it was rearranged over her body had a snap to it.
There were no feelings, just sounds.
But then there was a new sound.
Something she couldn’t readily identify though she had heard it before. “I had the guys in research tint the cream pink, the same shade as your favorite fruit.” Royce deep voice kept talking to her as if it was a normal back and forth conversation.
“Here take a whiff and tell me doesn’t it smell like Watermelon Spice? It was designed with you in mind.” Though Melony was unable to respond she did smell a scent floating over to her. Watermelon with a little something extra added to it.
More rustling.
Then a snap.
The sound of Royce putting on gloves.
She couldn’t tell if Royce was touching her. She never reached the point where she could feel things in her limbs or any other part of her body. It didn’t make sense, she always reached the point where her hearing returned and then her sense of smell, but never the ability to feel touch.
Trapped.
Prisoner in her own body.
She would give anything to be able to speak, but she felt something, deep down stopping her.
Something that went beyond her body.
Her hearing picked up the faint hum of machinery. That was it. They had her on a mechanical breathing machine, that kept her from responding to Royce.
Her lover.
Her husband.
“I know that if you had the ability to speak you would tell me that I am being way too harsh in my judgement, but there is something about Dr. Sinclair that rubs me raw.” Royce spoke to her as the smell of the watermelon grew.
Melony’s favorite food. The smell reminded her of lazy summer days spent outside with Royce when they were younger. How they would end the day with a slice of watermelon. Spitting seeds at each other as they chased each other around the yard.
Happiness infused her as the memories trickled in, her growing up with Royce. His curly brown hair streaked blonde from the hot summer days.
His warm brown eyes.
How his skin tanned under the hot summer sun rivaling her in skin color. The way she teased him about being black like her instead of the California surfer boy that he was.
The memories hurt, all she wanted was to reach out and touch him, feel him with her.
She had loved Royce from the first moment she met him. Even now she remembered that.
Slowly the memory of their wedding day came back to her. They promised their parents that they would wait until they were both legal before committing to each other for life. What their parents never realized was that they committed to each other from the day they met. The day Melony’s parents bought the house next door to Royce.
The day that two five-year-old’s became fast friends. A friendship that grew into a love that they vowed would last a life time.
A love that was strong enough to survive one of them being in a coma. Melony knew Royce suffered just as much as she did from the coma she was in. It hurt her how much pain it caused him.
It was their strong love that kept him going. Knowing that one day they would be together again either in life or in death. Their love strong enough to last through both.
She continued to listen as Royce explained his feelings for the doctor, “I’ve been suspicious of her ever since she insisted that you be transferred to Leisure Haven.”
The smell of watermelon grew stronger. “She did it so sneakily. It makes me even more suspicious. She transferred you to the private facility that she was the medical director of. That just screams evil intent. Especially since it was done while I was away on a business trip. I know you, with your gentle heart would argue that she did it to ensure that you were getting the best treatment, but this all seems a bit too familiar.”
Melony visualized the wheels spinning in Royce’s head as he continued to stroke the cream onto her skin. “It reminds me of that old movie you made me watch when we were younger. The one where Tom Selleck ended up in a coma from some type of simple operations and it turned out they were harvesting his organs.”
He snorted, “Dr. Sinclair is giving off the vibes of an evil doctor out to make a lot of cash from her unconscious patient. And I am not just talking about the fortune that it is costing keeping you here.”
Melony understood his concern. It seemed that whenever she was about to break through the coma, her mind about to surface, something caused her to go back under.
She wasn’t sure if it was something that the caretakers where doing or if it was something that her body was doing to allow her to heal. She was cut off from the rest of her body, so she didn’t know the extent of the damage.
She just hoped the suspicions Royce were voicing was the product of an over-active imagination. There was nothing special or unique about her. She was a victim of a car accident that left her in a coma.
She didn’t know how long her recovery was taking.
She didn’t know how badly she was injured.
She did know her husband was by her side every time her mind managed to surface enough to gather information from the outside world.
“If I hadn’t seen other patients up and walking around in good condition I would swear that is what she was doing. If you weren’t in such good physical condition despite all of the machinery helping you to breath I would be worried.”
She heard him give a soft sigh, “I know Dr. Sinclair showed me that article about long term ventilation patients having a better outcome when they are transferred out of the ICU and into the long-term care facility. Your health is great. Your electroencephalography continues to show your brain is active, it just every time they try to take you off the ventilator you stop breathing and they can’t determine why.” He paused, taking a deep breath, as if pained.
She heard the sound of the cream as he scooped it out.
“There is no damage to your brain stem, so your breathing shouldn’t be affected according to what all of the doctors say. Hell baby, I even did some research and you should be able to breathe on your own.”
Melony heard the door open.
“Hello, Stephanie,” Royce greeted the newcomer.
“Good Afternoon, Mr. Copenhagen,” a cheerful voice answered him.
“Now how many times do I have to tell you to call me Royce,” she heard him tease. A good indication to Melony that Royce liked whoever it was that came in.
“Oh Mr. Copenhagen,” she could hear the blush in the person’s voice, “You know Dr. Sinclair would be up in arms if she heard me address you by your first name, you know how she is about boundaries.”
“Yes, Stephanie. Dr. Sinclair has a giant stick up her ass,” Royce grumbled eliciting a soft laugh from his companion.
“How is Mrs. Copenhagen doing today?” Melony didn’t pick up anything beyond a sense of professionalism.
She could pick up the sounds of the machinery being checked by the sounds of the beeps and chimes softened or grew louder. She was able to tag the voice as the person who had been talking to Dr. Sinclair earlier outside her room.
�
��She is doing fine.” There was a moment of quiet and some rustling.
“What is that you are about to give her?” Royce asked.
“Oh, these are the liquid vitamins that are ordered for several times a day. Not all of the nutrients are provided by the G-tube supplement we give her. She usually receives her medication prior to your arrival but the delivery was late today.” Nurse Stephanie cheerfully answered Royce.
“See there honey, I knew there would come a day that I could get you to take your vitamins without complaining.” Melony laughed internally.
She never thought that would be a highlight.
The memories appeared as if summoned by his voice. The battles that took place between her and Royce and his insistent that she take the daily supplement. Eventually the arguments would end with her giving in non-gracefully and swallowing the pills with a look of distaste. Making exaggerated choking sounds as the pills went down.
“What is that wonderful smell,” Melony heard Stephanie ask. She might not have been able to feel the vitamins being given to her, but she could feel the effects.
These vitamins were not like the pills that she argued with Royce about.
No.
Her brain started to fog. She strained to hear Royce’s reply.
“This is our new body lotion. It is called Watermelon Spice. It is in honor of Melony’s favorite color which also happens to be her favorite fruit.”
Clawing against the darkness, she couldn’t resist, she stopped struggling. Melony drifted off to the sound of Royce’s deep voice.
CHAPTER TWO
“How is she today?”
Melony’s mental eye popped open at the sound of Royce’s voice. Startled she realized for the first time she felt refreshed.
Inspired, she just knew that she needed to jump out of bed and get dressed. The day was wasting away, time to leave this awful place.
She didn’t know how much time passed since she last heard Royce’s voice, but she knew it hadn’t been long. It had long since ceased to be important what day, month, or even year it was. It wasn’t like she could just check a calendar or a clock.
Her heart beating faster in response to his presence.
“She is holding her own today,” She quickly recognized the soft sweet voice of Stephanie the nurse.
Yes, her memories were returning quicker. She wanted to cheer at the small victory. The familiar fog was thinner, easier to search through for her memories. For the first time, it was not a slow awakening.
Today was different.
She attempted to feel her limbs. Unfortunately, no change. She still couldn’t feel her arms or her legs, but she hoped this would change, and soon. She continued to listen to the exchange between the nurse and her husband.
“Yes, Melony always was a fighter. It is one of the many things that I love about her. It’s also how I know she will beat this coma. One day she will wake up and we will be together.”
Love bloomed inside of Melony at the sound of the love and hope in Royce’s voice. For him she would continue to fight. Not for herself, but so she could be with the love her life again. To be held in his arms and cherished. That was her dream. She would do anything to get there.
“So where is Dr. Sinclair? She always makes it a point to be here to harass me every time I come to visit my wife.”
“She should be along shortly. She has a gaggle of students in tow so be prepared.” Stephanie warned.
Melony’s sharp hearing picked up the sound of the nurse moving around the room towards the door.
“Oh goodie. Students.” Royce responded with fake joy in his voice.
Laughter bubbled inside of Melony.
Her Royce.
Sarcastic and sweet.
Laughter from the nurse sounded as the door closed behind her.
Melony felt a brush against her forehead. “Hello, my beautiful lady,” Royce greeted her.
Her mind stopped. She could feel his skin on hers.
She could feel his touch.
She wept on the inside. She didn't know if tears fell from her eyes, but they fell from her heart.
She didn’t know how long it had been since she felt his touch. This was a break through. Maybe her mind was finally ready to release her from her prison? To allow her to return to the world of the living.
She concentrated hard pushing against the dark walls caging her.
Nope. Not even a twitch.
Trying again, she pressed hard: nothing.
But she wasn’t mistaken about the brush on her forehead. She knew the feel of Royce’s lips when they touched her skin. Nor was she mistaken with the response in her body. A small spark of desire ignited somewhere deep in her.
“I brought more of the watermelon spice. I love how the scent mingles with your natural scent to create something that is uniquely you.” He chuckled softly.
Once again, the snap of latex gloves echoed around the room. She wondered why Royce put gloves on to apply the body lotion.
Did she have some kind of skin issue?
Did he not like touching her bare skin?
What had happened to her since she was in the coma?
She didn’t even know how long she had been in the coma.
Worry started setting up house in her brain.
Awareness of the tension in her limbs slowly crept into her brain. When had she tensed up her muscles? She could feel her muscles. Was some semblance of movement returning to them?
“I predict that this lovely shade of pink of Watermelon Spice body cream will be a big hit,” Royce was talking to her as the scent of watermelon with a little something extra once again permeated the room.
She always loved the taste of watermelon. Sweet and juicy on a hot summer afternoon.
“Remember when you were trying to convince me to paint the kitchen this color? We fought about it, I told you we could do the bathroom this color but the full kitchen… Then when I went out of town for work you spent the whole time painting it even though you had to go to work and school? Just to stick it to me, you even added black specks along the border, it was so hideous we had to keep it.” He laughed.
“We are going to launch it nationwide soon. I had a dress created in this shade with a pair of shoes from your favorite shoe designer to match.” He continued on with his plan for the launch of Watermelon Spice. “It is going to look amazeballs against your skin.” He chuckled softly.
Amazeballs? This was a knew term for her vocabulary. That it was uttered by her Royce was amazeballs. She mentally giggled. She liked that word.
Amazeballs.
Amazeballs.
Amazeballs.
She was glad that Royce continued with his dream of starting his own company. She wished he would speak more of Copenhagen Conglomerate. She wanted to know how big the company was. How did he get into skin care? That had been her dream, not his. She had gone to cosmetology school with the idea of learning about skin and hair. It was her passion.
She became fascinated. Which led her to extending her studies to esthetician, where she learned to really treat skin issues.
She spoke long and often to Royce about her dreams, before the accident. His support had been important to her just as it was important to her to support him in his dream of being a business owner.
She remembered working long hours in a spa learning the ins and outs of the skin care business while Royce worked hard to obtain his MBA. Both of them determined to succeed in life which they knew required hard work.
The sounds of Royce removing his gloves preceded a knock on the door.
“Come in,” she heard his deep voice answer.
“Mr. Copenhagen,” she recognized the sound of Dr. Sinclair’s voice, “I would like to bring my students in to discuss your wife’s case?”
“Please Doc come on in. I personally would say no, but I know my wife would allow it. She always encouraged learning on all levels.” Always the snark.
There was the sound of a lot of clothes r
ustling as bodies entered into her room. She wondered how many students Dr. Sinclair was trying to fit into the room.
“Mr. Copenhagen these are my students Dr. Mondragon, Dr. Elteen, Dr. Mitchell, and Dr. Patterson. You have met my nurse practitioner Jory Rogers previously.” Dr. Sinclair introduced her students and assistant to Royce. Melony listened curious as to who was in her room and what was going on around her.
“Okay doctors.” Melony wished she could see the students. She wondered if they were male, female, black, white, Asian? Where there any Hispanic students. She hoped there were a variety of students who were able to learn from her case.
And Jory Rogers. That was a very unique name that could belong to either a male or a female. Curiosity was always the bane of her existence. Now it was all she had to amuse herself.
“Our patient is Mrs. Melony Copenhagen, age thirty-one. She was a victim of a motor vehicle accident six years ago.” Dr. Sinclair continued in a monotone voice.
Melony hoped she perked up otherwise she was going to put her back to sleep and probably her students along with her. Wouldn’t that be hilarious, a coma expert putting six doctors in a coma with her patient. They could share a room. The image danced in her head, little doctor puppets passed out around her.
“What else can you tell me about the patient’s medical history Dr. Mondragon?”
“The patient suffered from seizure that was originally thought to be caused by head trauma during the motor vehicle accident.” A feminine voice responded answering one of Melony’s questions. At least the class had females in it. Or at least one.
“It was discovered on PET scan that the patient had an Oligodendroglioma, a brain tumor that was subsequently treated with surgery and radiation treatment.”
“Good—good Dr. Mondragon.”
Melony found it weird to be learning about her injury this way. She wished she could move. She hoped they would discuss why she wasn’t able to move. It was frustrating. Being trapped by her own body.
Her own mind.
“Please continue Dr. Elteen,” Dr. Sinclair ordered. Melony entertained herself by guessing which sex this Dr. would be. She was going to guess male, since a majority of doctors continued to be men.
