by Dean Murray
Hurt, disappointment, regret, I couldn’t tell, but I wanted to crawl in a hole when his humor from minutes ago evaporated in front of me. “Oh, well then…Cool. I guess I’d better get back to work. I really am glad that you are doing so well.”
Before he had a chance to turn and walk away, I reached for his hand and blurted out, “Max, you don’t understand. Will you let me explain?” Max nodded, but the look on his face didn’t waver. My urgency to keep him from leaving was accompanied with focused effort to make him understand, “Seth and I live right next door to one another. Our mothers were best friends in high school and bought houses next door to each other. They got pregnant two months apart. It has always just been assumed that we are together. He’s my best friend, and I know he thinks of me as his girlfriend, but I don’t think I am.”
Agitation escaped through his voice, “How is that possible? Either you are or you aren’t. That really isn’t open to interpretation.”
My response was slower this time, a little more calculated. “I’ve never been interested in any guys at school. So when people started to assume that Seth and I were a couple, I didn’t discourage it. We have never really talked about it before, and I thought we both felt the same way, like we have more of a deep friendship than any kind of romantic connection. Seth and I have never really been physical with each other, at least no more than you would be with Missy. Since there was never anyone who I was really interested in dating, it was just easier to go along with what everyone assumed. I never had any reason to rock the boat.”
I could sense from his posture that he still wasn’t buying it. “Lauren, I don’t want to state the obvious, but I think you need a reality check. The way he was sleeping with you last night, I know that he . . . how should I say it? . . . doesn’t agree with your idea of the relationship.”
“Yeah, I found that out last night. But I kind of think it’s just an over-reaction to the whole shooting. I’m guessing when I get out of the hospital, it’ll go back to normal.”
I could tell he didn’t want to keep talking about it. “I’ve got to get back to work. I am glad you’re feeling better.” He started toward the door.
“Wait, Max, I know you can’t stay, but I need you to know I do feel differently now. I feel like maybe it is time to rock the boat.” I watched him to see if there was any reaction; it was immediate, as soon as he had processed what I said.
A broad amazing smile beamed back at me, his look not at all matching his words. “You do what’s right for you. Don’t get me wrong. I’m flattered, but I don’t want the reason you end a very long friendship to be because of me. I don’t want to come between you two. If you find yourself single and you want to get together, I would love to get to know you better, but I don’t think it’s a good idea while Seth still thinks you’re his girlfriend.”
His words made my heart soar, my whole body felt warm and my heart rate began steadily gaining speed. Knowing how badly this visit could have gone, I couldn’t help but push my luck, “Max, I need to ask you one more thing. Just another minute?”
Max glanced at the watch on his wrist, and I could tell he really did have to go. “Yeah, but I’ve already been gone for way too long. My partner’s got to be looking for me by now.” He moved a hair closer to me, and I could hardly contain my excitement.
“I know this isn’t the best place, and I understand if you tell me no, but if I don’t ask, it’s going to drive me crazy. I was wondering if you feel anything weird around me?” This sounded so strange, but I didn’t know how best to articulate my question. I needed to know if it was only my imagination.
Max looked me straight in the eye, “Weird, like what?”
I felt the flush of embarrassment on my cheeks as I asked quietly, “Like, chemistry, a little?”
Max stood still as a statue staring at me sitting almost straight up in my bed. His smile faded a little as he leaned into me and whispered, “You mean like this?” He softly slid his hand behind my head, pulling my lips up to his: gentle at first, then increased intensity until I found that I had wrapped both my arms around him, wires protruding from every direction, and my entire body tingled. I grew lightheaded as he eased his face away from mine. He gently lowered my head back to my pillow and moved his hand to my face. Max traced my lips with his index finger. After a few outlines of my lips, he responded quietly, “Chemistry, huh? No, I hadn’t noticed.” His wide smile reappeared with a vengeance.
My heart monitor went crazy, jumping well into the 100s as an alarm blared to life telling the world what had just happened. Max reached over and pushed a button on the monitor and the alarm muted instantly. As he leaned in for what I was sure was going to be just as passionate as our first kiss, his pocket beeped.
Max stopped, rolled his eyes and fished in his pocket, pulling out his cell. He looked at the screen with disappointment in his eyes. “Hey, we just got a call. I really have to go. Don’t get me wrong, I’m all for continuing this conversation soon, but I really can’t stay.”
“I’d like that, too,” unable to say anything else.
He kissed my cheek, “I can’t wait to tell Missy about tonight. Bye.” Max darted out the door as he sprinted off to save someone’s life. The jealous part of me hoped he was being called to help an old fat man.
Chapter Seven
The remaining hours until the sun came up flew by as my mind replayed our few minutes together. My stomach was in knots. I’d never felt this way before. From the moment he ran out of my door, I hoped that his message was a false call, and he would suddenly reappear. As the hours ticked by, I realized that I wouldn’t see him again before my usual string of visitors arrived.
When the minute hand took the hour to five a.m., my eyes got heavier and my excitement with Max subsided, a little. Knowing one of the nurses would be in soon to check my vitals, I argued with myself on whether it would be better to just wait for the interruption before dozing off.
By twenty after five I saw Felecia’s smiling face. “Well, aren’t you up early today? Can I get you anything?”
“I wouldn’t mind some chocolate ice cream for breakfast.”
“I’ll see what I can do, but don’t hold it against me if your chocolate ice cream tastes like eggs and bacon. Now, hand me that arm.” Felicia took my blood pressure, temperature and charted down numbers from the monitors I was still hooked to. She looked at the heart monitor’s paper sheet and must have seen the spike when Max stopped by last night. “Did you have a nightmare last night?” She didn’t seem overly concerned with her question and looked as though it was more important that she jot something on my chart.
I decided it would be much less embarrassing to have her think that monsters had entered my subconscious, instead of me having a midnight visitor who made my heart want to jump out of my chest. “Yeah, pretty intense. You can see a nightmare on that thing?”
Her disinterest changed to what looked like genuine concern. “Was it the shooter? You may want to talk to someone about it. A professional can help you work through it, so it isn’t so frightening.”
I smiled, but bit my lip, desperately wanting to laugh out loud. Reliving the shooting hadn’t even occurred to me as something to be fearful of. The strangest part of the whole ordeal was the utter lack of concern that it had happened at all. Somehow, deep down, I felt as if it were meant to be, the whole event needed to happen. “I’m okay. I don’t think I need to talk to anybody. I’m sure it was a one-timer.”
She finished writing in the chart and gave me a discouraging look. “Okay, but there’s no shame in asking for help, or wanting to talk about something traumatic.” I nodded, and I was confident she believed she’d planted enough of a seed that she could merrily go on to her next patient. “All right, push the button if you need me.” Felicia darted out the door without another word.
As I thought about what she had said, it hit me that it was a little strange that I wasn’t the slightest bit upset about being shot. I should be upset. I k
ept thinking about the man who shot me. I wondered if he was somehow overtaken by some force of nature to rob the restaurant? As shootings go, this was not nearly as heartbreaking as others that had happened in other parts of the country. It’s in the headlines all the time: “Twelve dead and four injured in a shooting today.” Something told me that had I not taken a bullet, I would have been hit by a train, run off the road, or any number of other things, to create a substantial enough injury to warrant medical attention. At least this was my new theory regarding the forces of nature and the fact that I somehow had to meet Max under extreme circumstances.
I knew that my dream about Max and the premonition of our paths crossing would have come to fruition no matter what. I was actually a little thankful, given the possibilities, that it was just me who was shot. This shooting set a chain of events in motion. As I effortlessly remembered my entire dream with Max, I knew something huge was waiting for me in my future. With this realization, I faded back into fantasies of Max.
Alone with my thoughts, I remembered his eyes looking down at me in the ambulance: the same eyes from my dream. The dream seemed so real, like it really happened, as if I really spent all those nights interacting with my destiny, not just dreaming. I always woke up with that same feeling, knowing not to share any part of the dream with another living soul. But now I know, there was a living soul that was a part of my dream. For four years I’d had the dream so many times that I could close my eyes and conjure up the whole thing.
In a funny way, it was a rush to have new material. Replaying our few minutes together, it felt so natural and electric all at once. Did he feel the same? He had to. He had to feel the powerful connection I felt. He stepped out of my room as if nothing had happened, like it was just a run-of-the-mill, everyday encounter. It couldn’t have been. It was the most powerful thing I had ever felt. My destiny, without a doubt, Max was my destiny. As I accepted this fact, a warm glow overtook me as my mind replayed every second. I felt his eyes watching me, feeling safe that we had found each other.
His words were on a continuous tract in my mind, “Don’t get me wrong, I’m all for continuing this conversation tomorrow.” He’s coming back. I looked at the ceiling wondering when he would be off work. How soon would he walk through my door again? Most likely after seven a.m. Assuming he wanted to continue that conversation, he would be coming back through my door in an hour.
Oh crap! I didn’t even know what I looked like. I dug desperately in the drawers of the nightstand and the wheeled table, but there was no mirror. Two days and I hadn’t combed my hair or taken a shower. Two days, who was I kidding? It was going on three. I pressed the “Call Nurse” button while warding off a full blown panic attack.
Felecia came in, “Hi, Lauren, are you okay?”
“Not really, I feel kind of gross. Is there any way I can take a shower or anything?” I was pretty sure that I already knew the answer, but I waited for her response with a glimmer of hope.
“Sure, let me take care of a few things and I’ll come back and help you. I need to show you how to cover your pins before you get in the shower. We’ve got a physical therapist coming in to see you at eight. She’ll show you some exercises to keep your strength up, speed your recovery, and help you get used to your crutches.”
Felecia came back with a bag of toiletries and in painful detail showed me how to keep the wounds dry while I was in the shower. Once I was in clean clothes, freshly showered and finally out of bed, I felt like a new person. I kept watching the door, anticipating Max popping through at any minute.
“Seth’s such a sweet young man; he’ll be glad to see you out of bed.” That rock just hit my stomach again. Seth – he, too, was going to be here any minute. Of course, she thought I was looking for him.
In all my fantasies about destiny and reliving those few moments together, I’d completely forgotten about my reality. I couldn’t put it off any longer. As soon as Seth arrived, I had to tell him the truth. I was going to tell him exactly how I felt. I wasn’t going to pretend any more. I owed it to him. It was the right thing to do.
At that moment Doctor Gracie surprised me, “Hi, Lauren, I heard you were already out of bed.”
“Definitely, today’s the day, right?”
“Swelling’s down. Vitals are normal. All your tests came back clean. Felecia told me she showed you how to care for your leg. Once the physical therapist sees you, you’re clear for release.”
“Sweeeeeet! I’m so ready.” Doctor Gracie wished me a quick recovery and made his way back out the door.
The physical therapist arrived at eight on the dot. Her name was Gretchen, but I came to think of her as Ivan, Ivan the Terrible. She wheeled me from my room to a physical therapy room. The room was bright and cheerful, but within seconds of my arrival, I knew that was a façade. She was built like a brick house, and was probably one of the most intimidating women I’d ever met. She had the demeanor of a drill instructor, the strength of a bull, and the personality of a postage stamp.
I had just barely been walking on my crutches, yet she had laid out a complete regimen of strength exercises and stretches, and delivered the fabulous news that I would be working with her three days a week for the next six months. Fricken Wonderful!
I began hoping Max might show up. He probably knew everyone at the hospital. Maybe he could get Ivan to loosen up a little. She brought me back to reality when she bellowed, “Maybe you haven’t had a human anatomy class. The femur’s a pretty important bone. If it doesn’t set right, all kinds of complications could arise. If you don’t keep your joints in motion, it won’t set right. If you lie around doing nothing, it won’t set right. You’ve got a very short window to help your body heal properly.”
I had never been all that athletic, so her custom workout routine would have been difficult under normal circumstances. The fact that I had a hole stitched up on my leg, a fresh bone graft, a rod running the inside of my bone, and big screws sticking through my flesh should have qualified me to ease into a workout. This was not the case with Ivan pushing me.
I had no idea where her training came from, but motivational speaking was not a possible career choice for her. “If you want to walk with a limp for the rest of your life - keep cheezing out. Don’t push yourself, no really, take it easy. Take a break. Maybe we can get some milk and cookies and turn on the TV?” Holy crap, I thought I was the queen of sarcasm, but Ivan buried me.
At a few minutes before 9:00, the routine finally got bearable. She reached over and slapped me hard on the back, “Good work, Lauren. Okay, here are exercises I want you to do throughout the day.” She handed me a stack of papers showing ten different exercises. “This is your appointment card and directions to my office.” It wasn’t a single appointment card: it was a listing of thirty-six appointments, all with her.
Pleased that our brutal hour had come to an end, I asked, “So if I do all this, how long until I’m fine?”
Gretchen looked at me, pivoted her body so that she was facing me squarely on, her movements reminding me of a robot. “If you do everything I tell you, exactly the way I tell you to do it, you’ll be as good as new in three months. Given your current muscle tone, you’ll probably be better than new in three months - but only if we do this my way. If you decide to skip appointments, don’t do your daily routines, gaff off the exercises I just gave you, you might be in decent shape in nine months. Your recovery is up to you. I’m just a tool in your toolbox.”
“So doing all this, I’ll be off the crutches in three months?”
“If you do what I tell you, give it a hundred percent, in three months your leg will be in better shape than it was three days ago.”
This was the first thing she said that I liked.
“Great, we can go out dancing just in time for graduation.” I heard Seth’s voice behind me. I was glad he was here. This would give me a chance to talk to him before Max stopped by. As I turned around to say hello, I noticed Felecia had followed him into the room
. Maybe now wouldn’t be the opportune time.
Seth looked really happy, “You’ve got to be excited; you’re almost out of here. Your mom is loading all your flowers in the mini-van now. With any luck there will be enough room for you, too.”
I looked at Gretchen and she gave me a quick wave, “Felicia will do your check out and care instructions with you. You’ve already got your rehab instructions from me, you just need to sign some insurance papers and you can go home.”
Thrilled at the idea of going home, and anxious to get out of there, I grabbed the crutches setting beside me, “Felicia, lead the way!”
“Easy Lauren, you don’t get to hobble around on those until you are out of the hospital.” She helped me back into the wheel chair and began pushing me back to my room. Seth followed at first, then asked Felicia if he could drive. She smiled and handed me over to him. He drove me to my room, and he really wasn’t kidding: all the flowers that had lined every open space in the room were gone. Felicia pulled the visitor chair out and began to go over paperwork with me. I was only half listening to her instructions as I was looking to the door every few seconds to see if Max was there.
“Okay, Lauren, if you don’t have any questions on the sheet, that’s really all that I needed to cover with you. Let your mom know she needs to stop by the discharge desk before she leaves, and you should be all set.”
As she finished her sentence, I looked to the door one last time and there he was. He wasn’t in his uniform. He was in blue jeans, a t-shirt that flattered his biceps and chest, wearing a smile that affirmed he was as happy to see me as I was him. I was thrilled. I had been so worried that he would come and I would already be gone. Without even thinking of Seth standing right behind me, I nearly squealed, “Hi, Max!”
Max’s smile grew, and as hard as it was to imagine, he was even sexier in the daylight. I had noticed his perfect smile, amazing eyes and bulky frame before, but his street clothes made him look like one of those really buff guys Rachael and I would drool over coming out of the gym. He walked to me, and I could tell he was freshly showered, smelling of expensive cologne, and as improbable as it seems, looking more handsome than I remembered. Max reached out for my hand and held it awkwardly, “I hear you’re busting out of this place.”
