Lainey
My heart ached each time I replayed the accident in my head, and when they told me that Don had died on impact in the crash, I was in denial. Couldn’t believe what I was hearing. Thought they’d gotten the details mixed up. Don would never leave me. No matter what problems we had, and how unbearable he could be at times, he’d never leave me alone this way. He was all I had; all I’d ever known. He was my husband, and as flawed as he was, I refused to believe that he was really gone. When I questioned the nurses about it, all they offered was a soft smile and sedatives.
As tears crept down my face and blurred my vision, I welcomed the sedatives. At least the drug offered an alternative to facing the truth; a sleep deep enough to erase reality. It eased the pain. Pain from my aching limbs, as well as pain from knowing the truth. So I slept, and when I’d awaken, a handsome stranger would be staring at me in the shadows of the room. Watching me sleep, offering cool water for my burning throat. How did he know I was so alone?
“How you feeling today?” he asked, his smile as warm as the sunshine in mid-July.
I forced a smile this time, as my eyes searched the room. Red and yellow roses everywhere, a philodendron plant and greeting cards filled the windowsill. Silver balloons with bold, colorful letters of well-wishing bounced against the ceiling. He’d opened the blinds again, and had refilled my plastic pitcher with fresh ice water.
“Are you feeling better today?” he asked.
I nodded a yes, and tried to arch my back enough so I could sit up. He saw me struggling and decided to assist me, grabbed my arm gently and pulled me upward in the bed. Placed a pillow behind my back. He poured a cup of ice water and handed it to me, and delicately brushed a piece of hair away from my face with his fingertip as I drank.
“Oh my God, Lainey, we just got word. We were vacationing in Bermuda.” My mother stormed into the room, a dozen lilies in a vase. Her beautiful mahogany skin looked tanned, her hair cut in a tapered style. “We caught the first flight out this morning.”
She placed the vase on the nightstand next to the bed, leaned over and planted a kiss on my forehead.
“Hello, baby.” Daddy was trailing behind Mother, his tall frame towering over her petite, round one. His salt and pepper hair and beard looking more salt than pepper. He’d aged in the six months since I’d seen them last. Since retirement, they’d settled in Phoenix and had been so busy traveling the country and abroad, they’d barely found time to spend five minutes on the phone with me.
Being an only child and having parents who’d found out how wonderful retirement could be, had left me dependent all the more on Don’s companionship.
“Hi, Daddy,” I whispered, and surprised myself by the sound of my own voice. I hadn’t used it in days, mainly because I hadn’t wanted to. It was much easier not to speak; somehow it sheltered me from the pain because I didn’t want to talk about what happened. But something about seeing Daddy brightened my mood. His lips brushed across my cheek. “How’s Daddy’s girl?”
I offered the best smile I could manage. He turned to the stranger and offered his hand.
“Garrett Marshall.” He introduced himself.
The stranger took Daddy’s hand. “I’m Nathan Sullivan.”
Nathan, huh?
“I’m Vivian.” Mother took Nathan’s hand. “You a friend of Lainey’s?”
“I’m…my wife…. your daughter…” Nathan swallowed. “My wife was in the other car that was hit in the accident.”
So…that’s why he’s been here every day?
“Oh, my,” Mother said, covering her mouth with her palm. “Is she all right?”
“She’s in a coma.” He strained to say it, tears threatening to do more than just fill his light brown eyes. He struggled to hold them back. “She’s right down the hall.”
“I’m so sorry,” Mother said, and rubbed the sleeve of his wool sweater gently. That sunshine of a smile swept across his face again.
“Thank you. I’ve been praying,” he said. “I’ve just been checking on your daughter to make sure she was pulling through this okay. I noticed she didn’t have anyone visiting, and I didn’t want her to feel alone.”
“We appreciate that, Nathan,” Daddy said.
“That’s so sweet,” Mother said, batting those long eyelashes. “Isn’t he sweet, Lainey?” She turned to me and then back to Nathan. “You’re a sweet young man, and I’m sure the Good Lord has heard your prayers. I’m sure your wife will be just fine.”
Nathan shook his head in agreement. As if, because Mother had said it, it was so.
“Well, if you’ll excuse me, I’m gonna get back to my family,” he said, pointing in the direction of the door and then stuffing his hands into the pockets of his tan khakis. “It was a pleasure meeting you, Mister and Missus Marshall.” That accent was definitely Southern—Georgia or Alabama. “Goodbye, Lainey.”
“Goodbye,” I whispered, and wondered if he heard me.
He left without another word. Mother started tidying up things around the room.
“I spoke with Don’s mother this morning.” She shook her head and pursed her lips. “So tragic, baby. I know this is all so horrible for you. They’re having a memorial on Saturday. They’re waiting for the rest of his family to get in from Chicago and New York. Gloria said she would’ve come out here to check on you, but she doesn’t get around too well these days. Got arthritis in both her knees and…”
Don’s mother, Gloria, my mother-in-law, was never one of my greatest fans. She’d written me off long ago because I hadn’t been able to produce any grandchildren. I was the opposite of Don’s sister who was popping them out every three years or so. But it was her son who she’d wished could produce her a grandchild. Particularly a son, who would carry on the family name.
I closed my eyes as the pain returned; the pain that the sedatives had only temporarily relieved. Tears streamed down my face.
“Oh, sweetheart, I didn’t mean to upset you.” Mother grabbed two Kleenex and wiped the tears away. “I know this is all too much for you right now.”
“How on earth did Don manage to mangle that BMW like that?” Daddy asked. “Was he drinking again?”
“Garrett, please,” Mother said. “Not now.”
“I just want to know if he was drinking. I mean, he put both his and Lainey’s life in danger.” Daddy frowned. “It could’ve been worse. She could be dead, too.”
“But she’s not,” Mother said. “She’s not. She’s here, and we should be thankful for that, Garrett.”
“She’s here. But meanwhile his life was taken, and that poor woman down the hall may never wake up to see the light of day again.” Daddy shook his head and left the room.
My mind drifted to Nathan’s wife. I remembered seeing her silver Toyota coming straight at us. I’d looked over at Don to see if he had been aware of the oncoming car. Fear had overcome him as he’d pressed on the brake. By that time it was too late. Too late for all of us to turn back the hand of time. Too late for me to erase the pain that had caused him to drink in the first place. Too late for God to open my womb so I could bear him the child he so desperately wanted. It was too late.
When the nurse had shaken me awake, I had softly asked her, “Where’s Don?”
“He didn’t make it, sweetie. He was dead when the ambulance arrived,” she’d answered, my hand in hers. “But you’re going to be just fine. Is there someone we can call for you?”
I didn’t answer. Couldn’t remember if there was someone for her to call.
“A few of your husband’s colleagues have been here. Wanted to make sure you were okay. Left all these beautiful flowers for you,” the nurse had said. “Your mother-in-law has been calling every day. Your friend Glenda called. Says to tell you she’s in Los Angeles, but she’ll be here before the end of the week.”
I’d listened as the nurse rambled on.
He was dead when the ambulance arrived. It was those words that had stuck with me; had me in a state of shock. Those words that had me yearning to close my eyes in the hope of waking up to find that it had all been a dream.