Chapter 36
It had finally stopped raining after what felt like three days of monsoon weather. Sydney, like clockwork, sat patiently outside of Mason’s room. Many of the nurses walking by had come to know her pretty well, waving as they passed or making light conversation in between lunch breaks and shift changes. In the days that had passed since she last spoke to Jackson, she hadn’t missed a single visit.
The sound of the door opening disrupted her thoughts as she stared out of the window across from her. With the sky so clear and blue it was easy for her to get lost in her thoughts. It allowed her to break away if only for a moment from the realities of her life.
“How is he today?” she asked the doctor who was performing Mason’s daily checkup.
The nurse that assisted him was opening the blinds as the doctor finished writing in his chart.
“Uh, he’s doing as good as expected,” he said, “Can I speak with you for just a minute?”
He pulled Sydney aside, just outside of the room. “I know you aren’t ready to make these decisions, but eventually you or someone will have to.”
“What decisions?” Sydney asked.
“The decision on how far you would like us to go.”
She tilted her head in confusion, hoping he wasn’t saying what it sounded like. “I’m sorry, but what exactly do you mean by how
far
I would like you to go?”
“Ma’am, your husband ––” the doctor continued.
“He’s not my husband,” she countered.
“Well…your friend,” he corrected himself, “is in a coma. There’s been little to no improvement over the last few weeks and the farther out we get the less likely he’s presumed to come out of this.”
“I thought you just said he was doing good.”
“Yes …as good as can be expected. Given his injuries, the mere fact that he still has brain function is a miracle.”
It was more than she wanted to hear. “I’m sorry,” she interrupted, “I really can’t do this right now.”
She walked past the doctor back into Mason’s room and sat in the chair beside his bed. It was obvious she was offended.
Where is his compassion?
she thought.
Why would he just come out and say something like that?
“I’m really sorry about that. Dr. Melson doesn’t have the best bedside manner when dealing with situations like this,” Meghan chimed in.
“I’ve noticed,” Sydney responded, still somewhat taken aback. “How are you today, Meghan?”
It wasn’t Meghan’s traditional duty, but she had asked to be assigned to Mason while he was in the hospital. A part of her felt the family, and especially Sydney, would appreciate a familiar face when coming to visit.
“I’m doing well, thank you. I’m so glad this rain finally let up.”
Sydney shook her head, looking towards Mason. “Sometimes it feels like it hasn’t stopped raining since he’s been in here.”
“Well, it can’t rain forever,” Meghan encouraged her. “Eventually the sun comes out, the clouds disappear, and everything goes back to normal.”
“You are always so chipper. I really appreciate that.”
Meghan laughed, “Life’s too short to spend it behind anger and sadness.”
Of all the nurses, Sydney trusted Meghan the most. During her visits, the two of them talked about almost everything. Meghan was always there making sure Sydney was comfortable, but even more importantly, making sure Mason was comfortable.
“I wanted to leave the blinds open for a while, I hope you don’t mind. After all the rain I think a little sunlight might just bring a smile to Mason’s face,” Meghan suggested.
She always talked to and about him as if he could hear and respond to her.
Sydney smiled. “I don’t mind at all.”
“So, what’s on your mind?” Meghan had started towards the door, but noticed Sydney gazing off into the distance and stopped to turn around.
“I’m sorry, what did you say?”
“My point exactly. What’s on your mind?”
“I don’t know.” She paused. “A lot, I guess.”
“You’re thinking about what Dr. Melson said, aren’t you?”
Sydney lightly chuckled.
“I really wish I weren’t, but-”
“But now you’re even more worried, right?”
Of course I’m worried,
she thought to herself, but didn’t answer. She looked at Mason’s breathing tube fastened to his neck with bandages, the tape holding his IV’s in place on his arms, the braces mending the broken bones in his leg. She didn’t have to say she was worried. The look on her face said it all, and as she broke her eyes away from him to look at Meghan, it was obvious the nurse knew it as well.
“Is he really
that
bad? I mean, bad to the point of making that …decision?”
Meghan moved to the foot of the hospital bed after writing a few notes on Mason’s chart.
“They never told you how bad he was when he came in, did they?”
Sydney shook her head.
Meghan wasn’t surprised, but she saddened at the thought of Sydney not knowing and surviving on a false sense of hope.
She had to tell her.
“When Mason came in, he had already lost a lot of blood. Although we put him in an induced coma, there was no doubt with the severity of his head injury that he may have already been in one. He was unconscious when the paramedics arrived, so there was no way to tell. From the time he came in his eyes never opened, not once,” she paused. “His leg was shattered almost to the point of amputation. Six of his ribs were broken, along with his wrist and his right arm. He had a lot of internal bleeding, a punctured lung, and a contusion on his brain that caused the swelling, which is what
they
will tell you is the cause of him coma.”
“And what do you think?”
Meghan leaned back with a smile on her face that almost shocked Sydney. “I think he’s lucky to be alive. He’s a survivor and, coma or not, I just think he needed a little rest.”
Only Meghan and her odd sense of cheer would see ‘needing a little rest’ as a reason for being in a coma. For the first time in a long while, though, Sydney genuinely laughed. “You just won’t let me stay upset, will you?”
“Why should I?” Meghan paused. “He wouldn’t,” she added, nodding her head towards Mason.
They laughed themselves into a moment of silence, until the hour grew late and it was just Sydney and Mason that remained in the small, dimly lit hospital room. Off and on she had fallen asleep beside him, next to him, resting her head on him. Whether it was her face resting upon his hand or his arm, she wasn’t letting any part of him go. She turned her face, still resting on his hand, and glanced up at him lying still and asleep. He was like an angel, and beyond every tube, every beeping monitor, and every cast and bandage Sydney
saw
him and loved him. Her voice was soft enough to be a whisper as she spoke, but loud enough to send a chill through his hand as her face rested on it.
“I really admire you, you know,” she admitted. “You are the strongest, the smartest, and the most beautiful man I have ever known. You survived …
everything,
and you are going to survive
this
.”
She moved her face from his hand and leaned towards his ear, close enough to make sure not a word she spoke would go unheard. “Now, I know you are resting,” she said as a single warm tear rolled from her eye across the bridge of her nose, “and I know you’re tired, but I need you to
wake up
. I need you…to hear me…say…yes. Yes, I will marry you.”
Chapter 37
Sydney’s days became routine. After waking up around seven o’clock in the morning she’d make breakfast: two eggs, toast, grits, and sausage. She’d get in the shower, sit in front of the mirror and do her hair, get dressed, and leave for the hospital before her roommate Aisha woke up. Every day shared the burden of newfound hope and continued disappointment. Mason had been comatose for seven weeks and, just like the day before, nothing had changed.
What’s going on in there, Mason?
she thought to herself as she glanced over him before she sat down.
“Dr. Melson’s going to be in shortly to speak with you,” Meghan warned her.
“You know, I’m really not the one he should be speaking with.”
“Actually…you are.”
“What do you mean I am?” she asked.
“Jackson came by last week and made sure you were listed in Mason’s chart as a contact if he was unable to be reached. Since we haven’t been able to reach him for the last couple of days, Dr. Melson will be speaking with you.”
“Why would he do that?” Sydney asked, not meaning to say it out loud.
Meghan smiled walking towards the door, hesitating before passing Sydney. “He is your husband, or…he will be.” She winked, “He told me.”
He told her. Who told her?
Sydney asked herself.
What did she mean he told me? Was she talking about Jackson?
She didn’t understand why Jackson would tell Meghan something so personal, or talk to her about anything at all for that matter. Most of their conversations were centered on Mason and how he was doing. Sydney felt her heat beat to the bottom of her chest as her breathing grew nervous. She couldn’t understand the butterflies in her stomach and her instant feeling of lightheadedness as those words came out of Meghan’s mouth. Maybe it was the smile Meghan had on her face when she said it.
But why? What was that about?
Sydney asked herself.
Sydney stood in the doorway, unsure if she should take another step or not. It wasn’t Meghan’s smile, but then again it was. Her smile was restrained almost of a spoiled surprise and it was her eyes. When she said it, Meghan’s eyes instinctively rose above Sydney’s left shoulder and glanced behind her to the bed where Mason was lying almost as if to say
turn around.
One foot in front of the other, Sydney walked past the curtain that divided Mason’s room and she saw him. His eyes, opened and bright, beheld hers full of pending tears slowly falling, her lips trembling with unspoken words.
He moved his hand to his neck, which was still wrapped in a light bandage, hoping the pressure would help him speak louder than he could otherwise.
“I’ve missed you,” he uttered. His voice was low and hoarse.
As much as she tried, Sydney couldn’t say a word past the tears that streamed down and her excitement at seeing him awake. Before he knew it, her arms were wrapped around him as far as they could reach, her tears dampening the hospital gown that clothed him, and her warmth comforting a longing touch.
She sat on the side of the bed next to him, resting her hands on his chest firmly enough to feel the pulse of his heartbeat through her fingers.
“Mason, I’m
so sorry,
” she cried.
“Sorry? Sorry for what? For this?” He asked.
His voice was still low and strained, fading into the air.
She nodded her head in agreement, “If I hadn’t said…asked…”
“Look at me, Sydney. None of this is your fault, do you hear me? None of it.”
She looked out of the window, hoping her emotions could in some way be distracted by the trees blowing in the wind.
“I was so scared,” she admitted.
He slowly moved his hand over hers, barely able to wrap his fingers around hers, but it was enough to pull her attention back to him.
“I can’t imagine what this must have been like for you. And I am so sorry for putting you through all of this.”
“It’s not your fault.”
“But it is.”
She brushed the tears from her eyes with the tips of her fingers and cleared her throat, trying to change the subject and lighten the mood.
“So, how do you feel?” she asked.
He chuckled.
“Like I’ve been hit by a truck.”
She laughed. “You’ve been in a coma for three weeks.”
“Yeah, the nurse was kind enough to tell me that much.”
“And what else did she tell you?”
“That you’ve been here every single day.”
“Not
every
day,” she confessed.
“Every day that mattered,” he assured her.
For the next few hours, Sydney talked and Mason just listened. He wasn’t paying much attention to her words; he was just happy to hear her voice. Dr. Melson and Meghan came in some time later but even with this good news and turn of events, Dr. Melson was still as cynical as ever.
“Well, Mr. Everett, you’ve had us all in a bit of an uproar today.”
“Do I need to apologize for that?” he asked jokingly.
“No, of course not, I’m just glad my nurses are back to work,” he said, looking directly at Meghan. “Now, I’ve gone over your charts and they don’t look too bad. We’re going to keep you under observation for a few days and run some tests just to make sure everything checks out, mainly neurologically. Aside from that we’ll refer you to a rehabilitation center for a short period of time to ensure that you regain proper functionality of that leg of yours,” he paused. “You’re a lucky man; we almost had to take it,” he said with a light chuckle.
“Wow, doc, you really don’t sugarcoat anything do you?”
Dr. Melson laughed it off and continued without answering or even acknowledging Mason’s question. From the expression on Sydney’s face, Mason could tell she was used to him.
“
So,
what now?” Mason asked, leaning his head towards Sydney. Dr. Meslon and Meghan were long gone, only routinely checking in to make sure he wasn’t in pain or needed anything. Somehow, Sydney found a way to climb into bed next to him without interfering with the IV’s or the brace on his leg.
“What do you mean ‘what now’?”
He titled his head slightly at a thought that came to mind, one that he was almost nervous to mention but he couldn’t keep to himself.
“Was I dreaming… or do we have a wedding to plan?” he asked.
Caught completely off guard, Sydney didn’t know what to say. Had she just heard him correctly? His eyes were so sincere, without doubt or uncertainty. She had definitely heard him correctly, and he knew exactly what he was saying. There was only one way he could have known to ask her that.
“You heard me,” she gasped.
“Every single word.”
The coming months were going to be long, hard, and the most challenging he’d ever known, both physically and mentally. He didn’t remember much about the accident, and what he did remember was so choppy he couldn’t make sense of it. He didn’t need to remember the gory details to see how bad it was, though. Running his hand across the scar where the tube had been placed in his neck, or glancing down at his leg where the pins had been drilled in to hold it together, it was pretty obvious it had been bad. Mason threw his head back against his pillow and looked up at the ceiling, which was empty of color and void of life. Even in his all his pain and frustration of limited mobility, he didn’t feel sorry for himself. He knew he should have died, but he hadn’t.
So what now
? he asked himself. What now?
“How’s he doing?” he overheard Sydney ask one of the nurses during his physical therapy session. Mason had moved from the hospital to a private facility that specialized in coma patients in recovery. On days Sydney didn’t have to work she would spend most of her time there helping him exercise and, more importantly, going over their wedding plans. It seemed
that
was the real drive for her being there, Mason laughed to himself. It had already been six months and a lot of his strength had returned, along with many of his healed fractures and bruises. He still wasn’t able to fully walk on his own, but with the help of crutches he was finally able to avoid the wheelchair for the most part.
“The nurse says you’re doing much better today.” Sydney smiled, walking towards him.
He was just nearing the end of his walking routine, and was dripping with sweat. He often worked twice as hard and twice as long, figuring he had more to prove to himself than the doctors, who had their own expectations of his progress.
“I am now!” He smiled, kissing her as he pulled himself to his chair. “I thought you had to work today?”
“I did, but—”
“But what?” he asked, glancing up at her as she pushed him to his room. He knew that sound in her voice and he knew that look. She was up to something.
“Well…” she playfully leaned down close to his ear. “I need you to help me choose the flowers and the venue for the ceremony.”
He laughed.
“I should have known it was something to do with the wedding. And here I am thinking you’re here just to see how I am doing.”
Talking about the wedding was the one thing that broke him away from the frustration of his therapy, the coma, and the accident. He and Sydney hadn’t spoken about any part of it since it happened. There were pieces that he still hadn’t come to grips with, but not talking about it seemed to be working just fine for the moment.
She was so excited picking out floral arrangements, invitations, and favors, she never really noticed that most of the time they talked about the date, or the number of bridesmaids or groomsmen, all Mason did was listen and nod his head at the right moments. It was still hard to believe he was actually getting married. It felt like the accident had changed something in him not only with his decision to get married, but something else he couldn’t quite put his finger on.
“Where are you?”
“Huh?” he asked.
“I asked you a question and you were completely zoned out,” she laughed.
“I’m sorry,” he smiled. “I think we should go with the African Violet for the flowers.”
“Okay – but we decided on the flowers twenty minutes ago. I was asking if you had thought any more about the church.”
The church.
Of all the places and venues, golf clubs, private mansions, banquet halls, and five star hotels, she had settled on having the ceremony at a church. Beautiful as it may have been, Mason still didn’t feel comfortable with the idea.
“Mason!” he heard her yell out.
“What…what?”
She smirked with her eyebrows squinted. “You must really have a lot on your mind today, I called you three times.”
“I’m sorry,” he smiled.
“Soooo, the church. What do you think?”
Mason didn’t say a word; he just drew a blank stare.
“I know how you feel about it, and I know I’m asking a lot, but come on, Mason. I would really like to get married in a church, with a pastor,” she laughed. “Not in a hotel with an internet ordained buddy of yours from college.”
He still didn’t say anything.
“Please…?” she begged playfully.
“I’ll think about hit,” he mumbled.
“You promise?”
“I promise.”