Chapter Three

Olivia shifted and the vinyl hospital chair made a disgusting noise. Her back and her bum hurt from sitting vigil at Aden’s bedside for two days now. Exhaustion tried to claim her, but every time she closed her eyes, visions of her brother dying filled her mind. The nurses tried to convince her to go home, said they would call if there were any changes, but she remained adamant. Until Aden was out of the woods, she wasn’t going anywhere. If only she could grab a shower and some clean clothes.

If you had friends, you could call someone. “Oh, shut up,” she mumbled and pushed up out of the chair. She hated the snarky voice in her head.

Stretching, she walked into the bathroom and glanced around. No showers in ICU. Patients usually transferred to other wards before they would be able to stand and clean themselves. A sink bath it was. Flipping the lock on the door, she toed off her shoes and then stripped down while the water warmed. Sniffing the soap, she wrinkled her nose at the antiseptic smell. A small amount of lather appeared when she worked it into the washcloth. It would be harsh on her skin. At least she had lotion in her handbag.

A few minutes later, reasonably clean, she redressed in her creased slacks and blouse. Staring in the mirror, she groaned. Bedhead, from sleeping in the chair, stuck up like a haystack. Not much she could do about her hair, so she brushed it out and tied it in a topknot. No sense in makeup—that would be like painting lines on a potholed road. At least she felt semi-refreshed. The plastic wrapping over the toothbrush gave her a little trouble until she ripped it with her teeth. A quick squirt of generic toothpaste then rinse, spit, wipe.

Taking a moment before resuming her place at Aden’s bedside, Olivia stared again at the sad, tired woman gazing back from the mirror. Dark circles were under her reddened eyes. Pale, thin. Was that a new wrinkle?

Who would want to be with you? Throughout college, too busy for friends, she’d gotten the reputation of being a snob. Aden said the girls were jealous, and the boys, intimidated. “Yeah, right.”

Social anxiety disorder, one therapist told her. Olivia disagreed. It wasn’t that she couldn’t be around people. She could, she just didn’t want to. Being a very private person, the only ones who knew her down deep were Aden and Manny. Manny was gone. A roadside bomb in Afghanistan took her lover away at twenty-six. His death wasn’t exclusive that day.

Along with him died their dreams for a future and family. Profound grief spiraled into a depression so deep it took years, medication, and Aden to pull her back to a functioning human being.

She straightened up the bathroom. “Tsk, quit wallowing.”

Tears welled in her eyes when she bowed her head. “Please, God, he’s all I have left. Please don’t take him from me.”

A noise came from the outer room. Expecting a nurse, she grabbed some toilet paper, blew her nose, and pulled herself together. Opening the door, she froze on the threshold. “Oh my God, you’re awake.”

“Livvie?” Aden croaked his special name for her. Pain-filled brown eyes with large dilated pupils blinked at her. “Wha’ happened?”

He slurred, but at least he was conscious. “Addie, you were in a car accident.” She hurried to his bedside and leaned over, stroking his mussed hair. “Do you remember anything?”

“Had a fight with Barry and Kayla.” He licked his dry lips. “So tired.”

“I told you, you were working too hard.” She scolded him, gently taking his hand. “You scared me, Addie.”

“Don’t cry, Liv. Ya know I hate when you cry…” Aden’s voice trailed off, and he went back to sleep.

“Thank you, God.” She closed her eyes and whispered a prayer of gratitude. “That was fast.”

****

Aden spent the next two days communicating in short bursts that grew longer each time. As the medication keeping him under was slowly decreased, the pain increased. Deep, burning, aching, sharp, all there.

Today, for the first time, he could stay awake and be lucid enough to become part of his recovery team.

Dr. Errapel stood at one side of the bed and Olivia on the other, holding Aden’s hand. Her face paled and grew paler at the doctor’s words.

“I’m going to be straight with you, Aden,” he said. “The damage is extensive to your legs. Especially the left.”

Aden clenched his eyes shut. “How extensive?”

“I’m pretty comfortable saying the right leg will heal. We’ll try our best to save the left.” Dr. Errapel paused until Aden opened his eyes. “You will be in a brace for several months. First, it’ll be locked straight for at least four to six weeks. Afterward, we’ll see if you are ready to be unlocked. We should be able to begin bending the knee by then.”

Olivia gasped and squeezed his hand harder. “When will you know?”

“Major blood vessels were compromised when the femur fractured.” Dr. Errapel tapped a stylus on the top of his tablet. “We need to keep the swelling down and hope the grafts take. If the circulation becomes compromised, we’ll talk again. You’ll be in a wheelchair for a couple of months.”

Aden didn’t say anything. He lay on the bed, trying to process the doctor’s words. Shattered legs, multiple surgeries, intensive physical therapy. His mind grew fuzzy again, not from the medication this time, but the reality of what he’d done to himself. He couldn’t even think about losing one of his legs.

“Don’t give up, Aden,” Dr. Errapel said. “Look at me. You may walk again, and even if you don’t, patients go on to live long and fulfilling lives.”

Right now, the life the man talked about was rabbit-kicking Aden in the gut.

The doctor glanced at Olivia. “I’ll be back later. I know this is shocking, but you’ll have questions when everything sets in.”

Olivia stood at the railing with her head bowed until the doctor left. When she lifted her face, dark circles under both eyes were puffy from crying and lack of sleep. “Aden…”

“Go home, Liv. Get some rest.” He turned his head toward the window. “I need time alone to get a grip on this.”

“You will walk, Aden. You will walk.” Her voice trembled with emotion. “He doesn’t know you like I do. You’re strong and determined. You’ve never let anyone, or anything, get in the way of what you want.”

“Please go.” He wished he could comfort her, but even the small movement of his head sent lightning bolts down his body into his legs. If she saw the pain on his face, she wouldn’t leave, and he needed time—time to absorb and adjust.

She spoke the truth about his determination. Lately he’d had trouble keeping his eye on the ball. Spread himself too thin. Since entering the chef institute, he’d known what he wanted. Rock House Grill was his baby. The plan had been to get her up and running. When things smoothed out, he wanted to teach. So, when the opportunity to do Down Home and Delicious came along, he jumped at the chance to take a shortcut and teach via television.

Great job. His shortcut was now a long road. One with a sign reading Dead End Ahead. No, he refused to accept it as the end. This was a detour, a long one, but a detour.

“Wait, I need you.” He did need her. Maybe he needed to be broken in order to fix them both. Easing his head back toward his twin, he fought the impulse to wince.

Olivia stopped and turned from the doorway. Tears rimmed her eyes. “You have been there for me through everything. Manny, school, depression. I’m here for you. Anything in my power, I’ll do.”

“You won’t like it.” The pain in his legs flamed. He’d require medicine soon. But before they fogged his mind, he had to ask the question she would balk at.

“I said anything.” She threw her things back down in the chair and returned to his bedside.

“Even if it’s running the Grill?” If he lost everything else, he had to hold onto Rock House. Not just for him. Eli, Margaret, and Olivia were deeply invested too.

“Aden, no.” Her face went from pale to green. “I mean, you have Eli and Margaret for the restaurant.”

“They can’t cook and run the place.” Aden couldn’t push her, she needed to come to agree by herself. Wait…wait. There it was—she softened. “Just until I can get back on my feet—pun intended.”

“I can’t do it.” Not quite as adamant. “And not funny.”

“Olivia, business is what you went to school for. You have a degree in hospitality and have been around the restaurant for years.” Aden pressed her since it was a make or break moment for Olivia—and him. “I need you to do it.”

“I can’t run the dining room, and you know it. Eli says Kayla hasn’t been around since the accident. Jazz House is six months from opening, and I thought I had time to prepare for being out front.”

Her expression broke his heart. When she lost Manny, Olivia gave up on her own life. She supported herself by being an online consultant, but that wasn’t who she was. “You’re the best manager I’ve ever met. Even if I’m the public face, Jazz House is yours. May as well start practicing.”

“Addie…”

“Liv, you always say things happen for a reason. Maybe this accident could be turned around to something good. For both of us.”

“But…”

“Livvie, please, I need you.”

“Don’t you Livvie me.” She cast her gaze to the side and tapped her foot.

He waited her out.

“Okay, just until you’re better. And you will get better.” She grabbed her things from the chair and stomped to the door. “I’m going home to take a shower. Tomorrow, I’ll stop by here before heading to Rock House.” She pinned him with a you’re going to be so sorry look. “The first thing I’m doing is fire Kayla.”

He opened his mouth to say fine—but bam, the door slammed, and she was gone.

Jenn, one of his nurses, stuck her head in the room. “Everything all right in here?”

“Yes.” Then, for the first time in days, he fell into a night of normal sleep.