Nowhere but Here

by Renee Carlino

  “Okay,” the woman answered. “I can get in a lot of trouble for this.”

  “I promise, I won’t say a word. I just need to know. Is she gonna be okay?”

  I tried to speak but couldn’t form the words. I felt paralyzed by the pain.

  “She was beaten severely with the base of a pistol. The trauma to her head has caused critical swelling and leaking of spinal fluid into her brain. She has what’s called posttraumatic hydrocephalus.” He gasped and made a guttural sound. I opened my eyes for just a second to see Jamie leaning against the wall across from me. His arms were crossed and his head was down. He looked broken. “Her prognosis depends completely on her own body. We’ll be monitoring her very closely and doing scans every day. If the swelling doesn’t start to go down with medication, then the doctors will have to perform brain surgery. They’ll drill a hole and put shunts in to drain the fluid and alleviate the pressure.” I couldn’t tell for sure, but it sounded like he was crying very quietly. The tone in the nurse’s voice changed. It became soothing. “Stay positive. Keep talking to her. The best-case scenario is that she could make a full recovery and be home in a week.”

  I made one heartbreaking attempt to open my eyes and speak, but I was crushed again. The pain was just too much. The pounding in my head became so loud it was deafening. I couldn’t hear or feel anything else. Jamie’s voice, the light and the feeling of the hospital sheets on my skin, were all gone. I went to the void, where everything was black and warm and painless.

  I wasn’t sure how many days, months, or years had gone by before I was able to sense my surroundings again, but when I did I could hear Dylan, Ashley, Jerry, and Beth talking to one another. They were talking about me as if I weren’t there—nothing bad, just a general conversation about my apartment and things that needed to be taken care of. On my health insurance form I had named Jerry as my next of kin and said he was a relative.

  “Did you see that? She moved her hand,” Dylan said excitedly. “Kate, can you hear me?” I squeezed his hand and tried to open my eyes. The pain was searing. I blinked several times before finally focusing. Dylan was holding my hand in both of his, and Jerry was leaning over me with eyes as big as sand dollars. “Hey, kid.”

  I swallowed and tried to clear my throat. “Hurts,” I said. My voice didn’t sound like my own. It was raspy and strained.

  “Get the nurse!” Beth shouted to Ashley, who turned immediately and went running out the door.

  “Just close your eyes and rest and get better. Jamie will be back in a few minutes.” Dylan smiled warmly at me. He looked relieved. And then I faded away again. I don’t know for how long, but when I came to, Jamie was sitting in a chair on the other side of the room. Susan was also there, sitting in a chair opposite him. Everyone else was gone. He was leaning over and his elbows were propped on his knees. He was wearing a T-shirt and flannel shirt with dark jeans and tennis shoes, the way I had remembered him so well from the winery. It was just Jamie, not R.J.—just my sweet Jamie. The scruff on his face was at least five days old, and his hair was slicked back from his face. His head was down, braced by his two hands. He was looking at the floor but talking to Susan.

  Two instant but conflicting feelings washed over me as I absorbed Jamie sitting in my hospital room. One was that our souls were connected so deeply that I could sense his presence before I knew for sure that he was there. Merely being in the same room with him made me feel more complete. One brief glimpse of him was enough to warm my blood and increase my heart rate. The other feeling was that we barely knew each other. The concept of “us” was so new. I still had that tingling feeling of excitement, like I hadn’t yet explored all of him. My head throbbed with the beat of twenty thousand drums, but somehow Jamie’s presence alone dulled the roar and made getting better my number one goal.

  I watched for a few seconds in sympathy. He was shattered. It was hard to hear every word of their conversation, but I picked up enough.

  “I’m cursed,” he said softly. “And I’ve cursed everyone who loves me.”

  “That’s not true,” Susan said.

  “I’ve done this to her.” He looked up and ran his hand through his hair. “She wouldn’t let go of the necklace I gave her. Did you know that? I’m telling you, it’s because of me that she’s lying there, broken.”

  “I’m not broken,” I whispered. He stood instantly and was at my side in two strides.

  “Baby, don’t move. Don’t strain yourself.” He leaned over and kissed my forehead. “Get the nurse,” he told Susan.

  “I think I’m okay.”

  “God, I’m so relieved to see those brown eyes. You are so lucky to be alive.”

  “Come here.” I opened my arms. He bent over and gently nuzzled his face in my neck. “How did I get here?”

  His head jerked back. “You don’t remember?”

  “No.”

  The nurse walked in behind Susan. Both came over to the other side of my bed. “You okay, honey?” the nurse asked. She checked my vitals and then propped my bed up so I could sit.

  “My head still hurts a bit.”

  “That’s to be expected, but you’re doing remarkably well. I’ll let the doctor know you’re up,” she said and then walked out.

  Susan smiled down at me. “I’m glad you’re back with us, Kate. I wanted to say sorry about all the confusion at the winery. I wasn’t completely informed and I didn’t want to interfere.”

  “It was my fault, I didn’t tell Susan what was going on,” Jamie interrupted.

  “Well, I didn’t help matters. I knew something big was happening between you two, but I’m used to protecting Jamie’s privacy.”

  “It’s water under the bridge,” I said sincerely.

  “I hope so. I’ll let you two have some alone time.”

  “Thank you.” We squeezed each other’s hands and then she left.

  “Jamie, tell me what happened.” He scooted a chair right next to my bed and sat down, holding my hand in his.

  “You were attacked by a man on the subway. He hit you with his gun repeatedly, and the attack caused some swelling in your brain. But you’re going to be okay, the swelling is going down on its own.”

  I remembered little bits and pieces about what happened, but it was hard to put it all together. “I must have a really hard head.” I smiled.

  One side of his mouth turned up. “Yes, I’m sure of it, and thank God for that hard head of yours. I think you’re going to be fine.”

  “I should have worn a scarf that night.” I reached up and ran my fingers down his rough jawline. He grinned into my hand.

  “Why didn’t you let him take the necklace?”

  “I can’t remember what I was thinking. But wait, how did you know it was over the necklace?”

  “Because they found you clutching it, and the transit system has video footage of the assault.” I felt my bare neck and started to panic. “They took it off when you came in. Beth has it, along with the rest of your stuff. It’s safe, angel, but no material object is worth this. That necklace could have been replaced. You can’t be.”

  I started getting choked up. “Jamie, I’m sorry.” Tears began streaming from my eyes. My head was pounding again. I moved my hair away from my face and felt the bandage on the side of my head.

  “Please don’t cry. I wasn’t mad, I was just scared. I thought I was gonna lose you.”

  “I know.” I sniffled. He reached his hands down and wiped the tears away with the pads of his thumbs. I felt for the bandage at the back of my head.

  “They had to shave a little of your hair to put the staples in.”

  “Staples? Oh my god, I must look like Frankenstein.” I breathed into my hand. “Oh, and my breath is terrible. I feel like I have little sweaters on my teeth, they’re so fuzzy. Can you get me some mouthwash?”

  He laughed and went into th
e little bathroom and came back holding mouthwash and a cup out to me. “You can barely see the staples. Your hair covers that spot. And you don’t look like Frankenstein at all. You’re beautiful, and you will always be beautiful.” I smiled with cheeks full of mouthwash. Are you feeling better?”

  I spit the mouthwash into a little cup Jamie held out for me. “Yes. Where was I going on the L that night?”

  “You were going home. You were only one stop away when it happened.”

  “Going home from where?”

  “You’d met Jerry and Beth at a bar. They said you quit the Crier because of the note I sent you.”

  “Note?”

  “I asked you to marry me. Do you remember that?” At that point he was sitting on the chair next to the bed, staring up at me. He looked boyish for once.

  “I don’t remember.” I put my hand to my head, which had begun to pound loudly in the front. I closed my eyes and winced. “I’m sorry, I can’t remember much, just bits and pieces. My head hurts so bad.” Oh my god, he asked me to marry him.

  He stood up and lowered my bed. “Close your eyes, baby. You don’t need to think about anything right now.” I felt him gently climb up next to me and lay on his side. He draped his arm across my waist. I dozed off, feeling safe and protected.

  There were a couple of days of tests and scans before I was scheduled to go home. I realized that I hadn’t had a serious conversation with Jamie about the note or what our plan was. He had been at the hospital every day, only leaving briefly to shower at a nearby hotel. Beth, Jerry, and Dylan popped in and out a few times to check on me. Dylan was taking care of Anchovy and my apartment, and Beth had proudly proofread the first thirty thousand words of my novel. I was excited to get back to writing, but I knew there were things that needed to be decided first. I still didn’t remember much from the night of the assault, but the police detective did show me the note I was clutching. The words MARRY ME were smeared in blood, which gave me a strong feeling of unease.

  The day before I was scheduled to leave the hospital, they brought a plastic surgeon in to remove the staples from the back of my head and to add tiny sutures to the gash in my forehead. When the doctor left the room, I looked over at Jamie, who was flipping through Techworld magazine. “Hey, handsome. I thought you were done with all that?”

  He jerked his head up, closed the magazine, and flung it onto a nearby table, then he looked down at his hands in mock horror, like he had been infected. We both laughed. I stood up next to my hospital bed on wobbly legs. I was still naked underneath the ridiculous hospital gown. Jamie came to my side instantly and held my arm as I walked toward the bathroom. “I just want to brush my hair out,” I said.

  “I can brush it for you.”

  “I have to do some things on my own, Jamie.” I stopped halfway, feeling dizzy. Jamie had a scared look on his face as he braced my arm and shoulder. I tried to lighten the mood. Smiling up at him, I said, “It’s kind of drafty in here,” and then I reached behind me to feel my naked rear end. His adorable dimple that had been hiding for so many days behind a worried frown revealed itself.

  He leaned back to catch a glimpse as I began to shuffle again toward the bathroom. “I’ve missed seeing that cute little ass.” I giggled when he smoothed his hand over it.

  “I hope you’ll stay for a few days after I’m released?” I shot him a hopeful look. “You can get reacquainted with my ass.”

  “Katy, of course I’m staying. I’m not going anywhere. You’re going to need help. I planned on staying with you at your apartment.” He looked discouraged.

  “I just didn’t know if you’d want to.” He was standing behind me as I looked in the mirror and brushed my hair.

  “What are you talking about? I asked you to marry me. I was pretty sure you were gonna say yes.”

  “Everything seems so jumbled up now.” I felt the familiar stinging of tears filling my eyes.

  “You don’t have to decide anything, but I told you, I’m not going anywhere.”

  “Don’t you want to be in Napa?”

  He stepped toward me confidently, turned me to face him, and reached for my hand. He placed it over his heart and then pressed his other hand to my heart. “There’s nowhere but here. Nothing else matters, you have to see that. We’ll figure everything out together. I want to get to know you all over again, but first let’s focus on getting you home and well.” He bent over to kiss me. When our lips touched, I immediately pressed my body to his. I took his hand and placed it on my bare butt. He smiled against my lips.

  Dr. Coco, my regular trauma doctor, came whistling through the door. We both pulled apart quickly and Jamie folded the back flaps of my gown over each other so my backside wasn’t exposed.

  “He’s my doctor, Jamie.”

  “This is my ass now.” He smirked and then pinched my butt cheek.

  “Ouch!” I yelped. “Excuse us. Hi, Dr. Coco.”

  When I first met my doctor, he had to tell me his name about ten times. I just kept laughing after he said it, and then I would say, “No. Tell me for real. I have a brain injury and I don’t think I’m hearing you correctly.”

  He had a great sense of humor. Instead of being offended, he had mimicked a cuckoo clock and said, “My name is Dr. Cuckoo.”

  “Dr. Coco, I need to talk to you,” Jamie said. “In private.”

  “You don’t get to talk about me in private.” They both stood there, staring at the ground. “I know what you want to ask him. Very sneaky of you,” I said as he shoved his hands into his jean pockets and teetered back on his heels. I looked over at the interested doctor and blurted out, “He wants to know when we can have sex.”

  Dr. Coco chuckled. “Well, you, little missy, are free to do whatever you feel comfortable with, but you should probably take it easy for the first couple of days you’re home.”

  “Oh, we’ll go slow,” Jamie chimed in. “I mean, we’ll take it slow.” He was beet red.

  The doctor smiled and walked out, laughing to himself.

  I clutched my stomach, laughing. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you this frazzled.”

  “Baby, you kill me. I wasn’t going to ask him that. I didn’t want to scare you, but I was going to ask him if we should be concerned about PTSD.”

  “Oh.” My eyes widened as far as they could go.

  “I don’t want you to be fearful of riding the subway.” As soon as he said it, I felt nauseous. I buckled over and held my stomach. He walked me back to the bed.

  “I don’t want to see anybody about that. I was in so much therapy after my mom died. I’ll work it out in my head. I just don’t want to think about it right now.”

  “Okay,” he whispered and then kissed my forehead.

  “Did they catch the guy?”

  “They got him. He confessed. You don’t have to worry about him.”

  “I thought he was gonna shoot me.”

  “You remember now?”

  “A little bit.” Bits and pieces had been coming back to me.

  We slept the rest of the day away in my hospital bed. When I woke the next morning, Jamie was standing near the window, watching me. He was clean-shaven and wearing different clothes. He held a bag out as he walked toward me. “Beth brought some things for you to wear home.”

  “You guys left my fashion options up to Beth? She wears basketball shorts every day of her life.”

  His green eyes looked clearer and his dimple seemed deeper on his shaven face as he grinned at me. “I’m sure it will be fine.”

  Beth had packed exactly what I wore to the gay club that night she had said I looked hot.

  Jamie closed the curtain and then took a seat near my bed. “Are you going to watch me change?” I asked. He wiggled his eyebrows at me. “Come on, let’s leave something to be explored.”

  “I have seen, explored, and proba
bly licked every inch of you.”

  “True, but seriously.” I looked down at my unshaven legs. “How long have I even been in here?”

  “One week exactly,” he said. I was still staring, waiting for him to turn around.

  “Okay, fine.” He stood up and walked toward the window to look out. “What should we do today, Katy?”

  I slipped my jeans on easily and noticed there were about three inches of space between my jeans and waist. “Beth didn’t grab me a belt?”

  He turned and walked toward me, studying my midsection. I was still wearing only my bra and jeans. He looked heartbroken. “You’re so thin. Christ, you need to eat.” He put his hands on my hips and ducked his head to kiss the swell of my breast. “Katy, please tell me you didn’t lose this weight because of me.”

  Swallowing back the lump in my throat, I reached for my T-shirt and sweater. “I’ve had a rough year, Jamie. I only want to look forward to the future now. I don’t want to dwell on the past.”

  “Well, the first thing we’re going to do is get you something good to eat.”

  “Do you like grilled cheese and tomato soup?” I asked. He laughed and then kissed me deeply for the first time since I had been in the hospital. His arms tightened around my body, pulling me up off the ground. Our tongues twisted and slowed just before he pulled away.

  “It’s my favorite.”

  “Okay, I know this place, it’s right on the lake. We can take the red . . . the Red Line.” My heart started racing.

  He tilted his head to the side and looked at me with pity. “We can take a cab. It’s probably better anyway. I shouldn’t have you out too long. We’ll eat and then get you home and settled in.”

  “What about you? How is the diabetes?”

  “Totally under control.”

  “The two of us are quite a pair. Tonight I’ll give you an insulin shot while you dab Neosporin on my stitches.”

  He kissed my nose. “Sounds like a date. You ready?”

  “Yes, let’s do this.” It was a declaration of more than just my readiness to leave the hospital. It was the beginning of our attempt at a committed relationship. I’m not sure either one of us knew how to do that properly.