I havent slept. Ive been sitting in a pocket of darkness all night, quiet in the dim hospital room. Ive heard every breath shes taken. Ive known every reading of her vital signs. The nurses have brought me soup, a chocolate bar, a blanket. Looking out for their own, I suppose. And Im looking out for Shane.
Ive watched as the sky slowly lightened outside the window. It has been cool, but now the air coming from the vents by the window is warm. None of this matters, it is peripheral, incidental. The only thing that matters is the rhythm of her breath.
The hospital is coming awake, quickening and bustling with the sounds of shift change, housekeeping staff unfurling plastic bags in the hallway, dinging of the elevators at the end of the hall. Pretty soon they will be coming around with needles for blood work, then with breakfast. Pretty soon the nurses who have cared for us will go home and another batch will come to replace them.
She is lying there, and all night Ive kept checking her, worrying over her. Every time I feared the pallor would come back, that awful gray bloom would creep back onto her lovely face. But her color is good, and her breath is smooth and even. She hasnt stirred, or uttered a word except for some inchoate mumblings not even I could understand.
She looks young with her hair back out of her face. Its still matted with blood, and later today Ill clean her up if no one else does. She looks like a child, and I want to weep, but I have no tears left.
I stand up and look out at the day, feeling the individual pop of vertebrae, one after the other. The roof of the hospital, the old wing, lies seven stories below. Palms are swaying in the strong winds. The sunlight belies both smog and winter. Its almost October.
I sit back down and Shanes good hand stirs under the covers. I want so much to touch her, to smooth back her unruly hair. As I sit here and watch her sleep the urge is so strong, so powerful. I close my eyes.
Darah.
I open my eyes, and the light has shifted. The room is warmer. I must have slept. Shane lies there, looking at me.
Hey, sweetie. I stand up, take her good hand.
Hey.
How do you feel?
Thirsty.
The doctors should be making rounds soon, Ill see if you cant get anything.
She closes her eyes, as if exhausted. But instead of sleeping, she murmurs Whats today?
Saturday.
*****. I need to call work.
Ill do it in a few hours. Dont worry about it. I whisper.
Have you been here all night? Her eyes open, rest on mine. Theres some kind of feeling there. Hope, maybe. Vulnerability.
Yeah, I have.
“*****. Our dinner was ruined.”
“What dinner?”
“I was gonna take you to Sky.”
Oh. Our date. My birthday. Last night. A lifetime ago.
“What’s Sky?”
She closes her eyes. “S’this really ***** al fresco sushi bar in the Hollywood Hills… It’s so cool.” She sounds sleepy, dreamy, and adorable. Want to wrap her in my arms and never let her go.
“Sounds ***** indeed. I’ll take a rain check.”
Yeah. *****. I feel awful.
Im so sorry he did this to you.
Is he in jail?
Yeah. Youre safe, baby.
Then my friend Melanie walks in. She blinks when she sees me sitting there. Oh my god. Hi, Darah. Her eyes flicker over to Shane.
Hey Mel. I didnt know you were on days.
Yeah, hopefully it wont last. Is she awake?
She just was. Shes been in and out of it.
I have her pain meds. She holds up a syringe.
Shane is fast asleep and I help Mel roll her while she administers a hefty dose of narcotic to one of her ***** cheeks. Then she takes her vitals, which continue to be normal.
What happened, Mel whispers as she rolls the BP cuff up into a velcro roll. I walk with her toward the doorway, out of earshot.
Someone shot her. I was on evenings and they brought her into the ER.
Her eyes widen prettily. Holy *****.
Yeah. Howve you been?
She grins. My girlfriends pregnant.
Wow, Mel, thats great! Whens she due?
Not until May.
Thats great. Its so good to hear some good news.
I know, she nods. I wish I was seeing you under better circumstances.
Yeah. Well, shes gonna make it, so Im just so relieved Im stupid.
Your girlfriend?
Not quite.
She nods. Well, well give her the royal treatment. Just holler if you need us. And get some sleep, lady, you look like *****.
I wryly salute her but I have no intention of sleeping.
.
Motion wakes me, and the rustle of fabric. I open my eyes to see a lab coat, and in the lab coat is Dr. Angelo, the Medical Director of the whole hospital. I blink, feeling somehow as Ive been caught sleeping while on duty, even though Im not.
Hi, I whisper.
Hi. Come outside, I wanna talk to you. I nod and follow her, unable to shake the feeling that Im in trouble, but she smiles gently, almost maternally.
Come down to the lounge, she says, and I obediently follow.
I sit down at the table and she sits down opposite me. How are you holding up?
I dunno. I have no clue, no idea as to how to answer that question.
You havent gone home.
No.
You look like *****, honey. At the very least you should sleep.
Im fine. Fine for now. Just let me get my fill of the sound of her breathing, then Ill go home.
Dr. Shumaker tells me shes doing well.
Her vitals have been great, shes resting well.
You realize that this could be a long road, right?
I nod. Long road.
Shes going to require weeks of rehab at minimum. George Rowan is a surgical god, but its gonna take her some time to get better.
Nod again. Better. Thats all I want.
My point, sweetie, is that you need to pace yourself.
Huh? I look at her. She is smiling, and I think for a ridiculous second that she can read my mind.
Thats right, she says gently, squeezing my hand. I squeeze back. Im not going to make you leave her room, yet, but I strongly suggest that you sleep. I give you permission to go up to Six West and find an empty room and just crash. That units closed.
Thank you.
No problem. If anyone gives you any ***** about it, tell them to talk to me.
I nod.
Are you hungry? Let me bring you something to eat?
I shrug. I am hungry. Its around noon. Or later. Im not sure. Theyve passed lunch trays, anyway.
Go back to her room, and Ill bring you some pizza from the caf. Im suddenly full of gratitude. So much so that there are tears in my eyes. She rubs my back, motherly, as she follows me out of the lounge.
And sure enough, she comes back with a huge coffee and two slices of pepperoni, with chocolate cake for dessert. I want to hug her. I owe that lady big, I think, as I watch her retreat, intoxicating smell of pepperoni and oregano rising to my nose.
Ive eaten, but still I sit there as the afternoon sun shifts. She sleeps, and as the sun creeps into the room I draw the blinds. The noise must wake her.
D? I have to pee.
Hey. Ill get you a bed pan.
No. She looks mortified. I might have known that would be out of the question for Miss Stubborn.
Ill get Mel to bring it. Dont be embarrassed.
Cant you just take me?
I sigh. Whats that stretching sensation? Oh yeah, thats me being wrapped around her finger.
Okay, but if you get dizzy, were doing it my way.
She sits up, and something about this is gratifying. I havent seen her upright since she left my house yesterday morning. The hospital gown falls around her thin body, it’s pale blue oddly flattering to her skin tone.
I help her get her legs out of the bed, and slide some slippers onto her feet. Then I get on her right side and pull her arm around me. Tell me if youre dizzy. Im not ***** around, okay, I mean it.
Okay. She leans quite pleasantly into me, and I manage to maneuver both of us with her IV stand into the bathroom. I have no idea if this will get me in trouble, but for the moment her legs feel steady and I dont care.
Thanks D, she mumbles as I awkwardly move the IV stand into the tiled bathroom. She sits without incident on the pot, and Im about to leave to give her some privacy when I hear her just let go. She leans onto me, strokes my hair. Im so glad youre here.
Me too, I say. Her hair reeks of old blood so I kiss her cheek instead. Ill wash your hair if they dont do it soon.
This is my new look. Invalid chic.
I chuckle. Youre not an invalid. Invalids pee in bedpans like theyre supposed to.
She laughs. I feel it shaking her body, and tears of gratitude flood my soul.