by Dean Murray
Slowly, groggily, I tired of swimming in the black sea. I could see the water lightening just above me. I swam toward the surface of the water, away from the darkness. Just as I was ready to break through the surface of the water and to the air above, I had to shade my eyes from the bright sun. The sun seemed to somehow come more into focus. I pressed my eyes firmly to keep them shut. I could feel the light on me.
My awareness began to intensify, as I realized it was not the sun, but a bright overhead light. I felt someone holding my hand, stroking my knuckles lightly. I squeezed their hand back and the gentle stroking stopped. I opened my eyes abruptly and winced from the lights.
Chapter Three
I heard Seth’s voice, full of concern, “Lauren! Lauren! Can you hear me? Are you waking up? Lauren . . .”
“I’m awake,” but it came out garbled, more of a mumble than a coherent response.
“Nurse! Nurse, she’s awake!” His shout made me want to cover my ears, but in my grogginess my hands forgot where they were.
Barely more than a whisper, but this time with words formed, “Not so loud . . . what are you doing here?” I’m sure my puzzled expression was insulting, but I wasn’t thinking straight. Of course he’s here . . . but where’s here? He called for a nurse. Why did he call for a nurse? The awareness of my last few minutes at work flooded over me… I’d been shot.
“It’s okay, the nurse is coming. Are you in pain? Do you want to sit up? The doctor said you had lost so much blood….” His voice trailed off and was heavy with emotion. He was talking so fast that it was difficult to understand everything he rattled off. I tightened my grip on his hand in a gesture to assure him that I was fine. People get shot all the time. It’s not like the bullet was even close to my heart.
A woman’s voice interrupted my thoughts. “Lauren, how are you feeling? Do you need anything for the pain?” Her tone was thoughtful, and she was waiting for a response, unlike Seth just asking one thing after the other.
She looked to be in her mid-forties with a warm smile. “No, I feel okay. Where am I?”
“You are in Saint Joseph’s Hospital. You were shot last night by an armed robber. Do you remember?”
Yes, I did remember. An involuntary shudder escaped me as I remembered the man’s face.
“You came out of surgery several hours ago, but there were complications. Your mother just stepped out to make some phone calls and get some coffee. I’ll call her and let her know you’re awake. Can I get you anything?”
My throat was so dry it felt like it was on fire. In a gravelly voice, I simply asked, “Water,” and leaned back on the bed. The nurse pushed a button to incline the bed enough so that I could drink without spilling all over myself. I looked for a clock but didn’t see one. I lifted my left arm, but my watch wasn’t there. I looked at Seth, really seeing him for the first time clearly since I had awakened. He was the guy all the girls noticed: piercing ice blue eyes, shortly cropped blonde hair, a lean-toned frame, 6’ 2” and as gentle a man as I’ve ever known. “What time is it?”
“A little before five a.m.” He seemed so distraught. “Lauren, I thought I’d lost you. I got here after you were already in surgery. A nurse took Molly and me to a waiting room. Your heart stopped; more than once they used paddles on you to get your heart going again.”
I squeezed his hand again, trying to reassure him that I was fine.
Seth’s blue eyes were locked on mine, “The surgeon came to talk to us afterwards. He was so…” the emotion again overwhelming his voice, “doubtful after your surgery. He said they couldn’t get enough blood into you. You were bleeding it out too fast.”
“I’m okay, Seth.”
Seth looked away toward the window as if he had to collect his thoughts before he could go on. Knowing Seth like I do, he was trying to shield me from the pain that was evident on his face. In barely more than a whisper he added, “Thanks for not leaving me.”
I found myself patting Seth’s hand, “Don’t worry. I’m fine.” His emotion was powerful and his pain overwhelmed me. We’d been close to each other our whole lives, but this felt different. This was more than a friendship masquerading as a romance. He had told me he loved me millions of times, but for the first time, I believed him.
“I promise, I’m fine.” I cast a reassuring smile, and he took my face in both his hands. Salty tears rolled down his cheek and dripped on my neck.
“When your heart stopped the second time tonight, I was sure my life was over. You gave me my life back. You will never know how much you mean to me, but I’ll spend every day for the rest of my life showing you.”
Did I just hear him right? I had seen love stories in movies, but none with the passion concentrated through his eyes in this moment. He gently kissed my ear and nuzzled my neck. Though we’ve been inseparable since birth, we’d never had any kind of romantic connection. For the first time in my life, I wondered if there could be something more with Seth. Before I could devote much thought to it, Mom appeared at the door.
“Lauren, I’m so glad you’re awake. How’re you feeling?” Seth didn’t release my hand or move even a fraction of an inch away from me. This was uncomfortable. Mom had never seen any more affection between Seth and me than holding hands. I kissed his forehead as if to cue him to ease up in front of my mom. He took the hint.
“Okay, a little groggy, but okay.”
“The doctor says you need your rest. Seth and I will take turns staying with you so you aren’t alone. I saw the doctor in the hallway; he’ll be in to see you in a minute. Can I get you anything?”
I shook my head.
“If you need anything, just tell us.” Mom was used to me: I rarely asked for help even if it was obvious that I needed it.
“I’m fine and, yes, if I need anything, I’ll ask. I am a little tired, though.”
“Well, I’m sure that’s normal. I’ll go find the doctor so he can take a peek, and then you can go back to sleep.” She hurried out the door and reappeared quickly with a very short man wearing green hospital scrubs. He smiled as he made it through the doorway and walked toward me.
In a booming voice, “Well, you’re not looking so bad for dying so many times. Glad to see you’re a fighter.” The doctor looked at Mom and Seth, “If you two wouldn’t mind stepping into the waiting room, I need to examine Lauren. It should only take a few minutes.”
Mom winced in silence, and the doctor quickly picked up on her apprehension. “I’m sorry, I need to check her stitches, and the nurse will need to change her bandages. It would be better if, for the first few exams, the family remain in the hallway. I promise she’ll be in good hands.” My mother and Seth both nodded their understanding and stepped out in silence.
The doctor turned his attention back to me, “I’m Doctor Gracie. You sure kept us on our toes last night. You lost at least two quarts of blood before you got here, bleeding out faster than we could pump back in.”
He checked my eyes, listened to my chest, checked my pulse and made notes on a chart. After a few minutes he smiled, “Your vitals are very good, so barring any big surprises, you’re going to be out of here in no time.”
“What exactly is no time?” I had never been a big fan of hospitals.
“Assuming no complications arise, I would say the day after tomorrow you should be sleeping in your own bed.”
“So I can go home in two days?”
“Assuming everything continues as well as you are now, you bet. By the way, Max has called me three times checking on you. I’m glad I’ll finally be able to give him a good report. How do you two know each other, anyway?”
I paused for a moment trying to understand the question, trying to place . . . Max. A few seconds passed, then it all came back to me. What was the right response to this question? Max had called several times to see if I was okay?
The doctor seemed mildly curious as he waited for my response, and I finally answered, “We don’t know each other that well; we just met recently.�
� This was the truth. I had only just met him in person last night, although I’ve had hundreds of conversations with him – at least I think I have. I’ve spent so many nights dreaming of this guy that I have even given him a name – Destiny. Now he had a real name . . . Max.
“Huh, I would have guessed you were old friends. He did compressions on you in the ambulance and refused to switch with anyone until you were prepped for surgery and we were ready to bring you in. I just assumed you two were close.”
“You said he called checking on me?” I tried to be as nonchalant as possible.
“Yeah, I just hung up with him a few minutes ago. He wanted to know if you were awake yet. Max asked if he could come into recovery to see you. I told him you were already out of recovery and we had set you up in a room.”
“Into recovery?”
“After surgery we keep patients in the recovery room until the anesthesia wears off and vitals are stabilized. It’s normally about an hour; you were in a little longer than most.”
“But why would he ask you?”
“Recovery is for medical staff only. Family and friends have to wait until someone is cleared from recovery before they can see them. Max was trying to get around the rules with his hospital credentials. I like Max and would’ve bent the rules for him, but there wasn’t any need. By the time he asked, you had already been moved into your room.”
“So did he say if he would be stopping by?”
“No, but since he was on last night, he should be getting off work soon. He may decide to check on you himself.”
I hoped that the doctor couldn’t see the flush on my face, as I did a momentary flashback to my time with Max in the ambulance. His amazing green eyes peered at me in my mind, and I felt giddy that he might pop through the door at any time.
“I’m going to give you a sedative to help you rest. I need you to get as much rest as possible; your body needs it.” The doctor put a syringe into my IV bag.
“You haven’t mentioned anything about my leg. Was everything okay with the surgery?”
“The bullet fractured - well shattered is a better description, a section of your femur and clipped your femoral artery. We were able to repair your artery in surgery and stop the bleeding. You’re young and in good health, so after we got the bleeding to stop and the bullet out, I kept you open a little longer. We put an intramedullary rod in your femur, screwed it in place, and did a bone graft to speed the healing process.”
The image of pins in my leg brought with it a flash of Frankenstein. I looked down at my leg to see metal pins sticking out of either side of my thigh. Gross! My leg was propped up on pillows, without a cast.
The doctor continued, “This would normally have been two surgeries, but the damage to your leg was pretty extensive, so we wanted to get the rod in right away. We’ll need you to stay off it today. Tomorrow we’ll have you try crutches to see if we need to put a frame on it for stability.”
“No cast?” I felt my senses slowing down as the sedative made its way through my bloodstream.
“The rod we inserted acts like a cast from the inside. We’ll wait for the swelling to go down before we have you work on mobility. With any luck we may not need to put a frame on.” He laid down my chart and made his way to the door.
The doctor seemed surprised as he crossed the threshold and declared, “Well - speak of the devil! We were just talking about you.”
My eyes were so heavy I couldn’t keep them open. I saw someone step through the doorway in a blue uniform shirt, just as my eyes closed.
Chapter Four
I awoke feeling groggy again, with my throat on fire. There was a perfume fragrance that was nearly overwhelming, almost as though I were breathing in through some floral air freshener. I forced my eyes open, and this time, the light wasn’t as blinding as it had been the last time I awoke.
I blinked my eyes a couple times and looked around to see if my room was empty. Seth was sitting on the visitor chair on my left, sound asleep. He was the best friend ever. I could see the worry on his face through the slumber. I reached out to touch his arm, but the tubes protruding from my arm acted like a restraint, so I wasn’t able to stretch my arm to him.
I looked around the room, surprised to see bouquets of flowers lining every table top, window sill and flat surface in the room. It looked like a floral shop, all sizes of arrangements in every pastel color: pinks, yellows, oranges, their combined fragrance overwhelming. I started to count the vases: one, two, three . . . seventeen, eighteen! Where had all these flowers come from?
The curiosity got to me, and I reached to the table on my right to see the card on the arrangement closest to me. It was from Melissa with a quick message scrawled, “I would trade with you in a minute and am still mad about the freezer.” The card warmed me knowing my ruse had kept Melissa safe.
I mulled over the events of last night. As soon as the man had entered the restaurant, I knew he was trouble. My body reacted to him before he even got near me. I’ve always had a sense for people, for their intentions, but never anything like last night.
For as long as I can remember, I’ve always known things without proof and believed in outcomes others would never fathom. This would normally paint a picture of someone who is gullible and easily deceived. There are things that I understand that I cannot quantify, but unlike so many others, I don’t always require proof to validate my instincts.
Instincts: those elements that make the hair on your arms stand on end when danger approaches, that permit you to turn around quickly to catch a man’s gaze in a bar before he looks away. The last several years, my instincts have become sharper; I’m not certain if it is due to practice, age, hormones or what. I’m not physic or clairvoyant, just more perceptive than most.
I could have handled things differently, but if I had, the results might have been dreadful. As it was, my leg may have been shot, but I wasn’t in any insurmountable pain or anything. No one else had been put in jeopardy, so I was sure I’d picked the best course of action among some seriously crappy choices. I put Melissa’s card back in the holder.
My throat might as well have been lined with sand paper, the pain radiating was nearly unbearable. I laughed at myself - I lose a couple quarts of blood, suffer a gun-shot wound, die a few times on the operating table, and it’s a sore throat that’s unbearable. I looked for a glass of water. I didn’t want to wake up Seth; who knows how long he had stayed awake. I decided to push the, “Call Nurse” button on my bed. Mere seconds passed before an older stout woman came charging through the door. I raised my index finger quickly to my lips in an effort to keep her from talking aloud. I pointed at the sleeping Seth. She nodded in understanding. When I cupped my hand in a pretend glass gesture as if I were drinking, she nodded, understanding my sign language.
She smiled and walked over to a table that was overflowing with flowers. Tucked behind a large arrangement was a little plastic pitcher and glass she carried across the room to me. In a hushed tone, respecting my wishes not to disturb Seth, she asked, “How are you feeling?”
I managed a smile of my own and replied, “I think okay. What time is it?”
Her name tag read Felicia. She looked at her watch, “A little after noon. Are you hungry?”
Until she said the word hungry I hadn’t noticed, but by stomach was definitely empty, and I nodded enthusiastically. “I’ll be right back with some lunch for you. You may not want to let him sleep very long. The poor guy’s been worried sick about you all morning. I know he’d be thrilled to see you awake and having a bite to eat.” I nodded, and she turned around and was out the door in a flash.
My voice sounded like gravel. I drank the whole glass of water in relatively slow sips, partly to sooth my parched throat and partly to try to smooth my voice before I spoke. I cleared my throat quietly, then in a soft but audible voice uttered, “Seth…Seth helloooooo.” The sound gave him a sudden jolt, and I felt bad; he was sound asleep, and my voice startled him awake. He had
a brief second of confusion, uncertain what had awoken him, then I could see the relief spill over his face.
In as smooth and playful a voice as I could squeak out, I asked, “So don’t you have anything better to do on a Friday than sit in a hospital all day accepting flower deliveries?”
Seth’s face beamed. He was on his feet and at my side in an instant, holding my hand with his, and gently caressing my forehead with his other. Seth had never pushed me to be physical with him, and any handholding or tenderness had always felt a little awkward.
But today, I could see his genuine desire to be closer to me. I had never really craved his touch before, but feeling his tenderness provoked a desire for more, a yearning I didn’t know I had. I have no idea how long we spent motionless with one another, the only movement his gentle caress on my forehead.
In barely louder than a whisper he asked, “Lauren, I have so much to say to you. Are you really awake?” I nodded and couldn’t help but feel the warmth that emanated from him and the wave of unfamiliar tingles in my body.
He stared at me, then looked away as if he were embarrassed. His mouth opened slightly, but nothing came out. I saw his eyes were fixed on our hands. I squeezed his hand as if trying to prove I was okay.
“I promise I’m awake…sorry I’ve been so out of it today. I guess I have some idea how a bear feels, hibernating and everything.”
Whatever he wanted to say, I didn’t want to push him. I liked this moment. I had never felt so close to him before and wanted to savor the moment a little bit longer. I was sure this was more a result of a horrific event than a new revelation on our relationship. I felt his breath speed up as he leaned in to kiss me. My mind was full of uncertainty: Where was this coming from? Although a small part of me liked his new found attention, a louder voice inside of me was screaming that this was huge mistake.
