Between (17 page)

“
We did, but it was very expensive, so I’ve only tasted it once before.”

“
Well, no wonder you guys were always trying to kill each other. Life is hardly worth living without chocolate,” I said. He broke off a little piece and placed it in his mouth.

“
Mmmm… maybe you have a point there.”

I laughed and stuck two marshmallows on the roasting fork, then handed it to him, explaining how to hold it over the flames just right so that the outside turned a golden brown. He pulled a footstool over to the fire and gave it a try, but got the fork too close to the flames. In the blink of an eye, the soft white mounds turned into miniature fireballs. He jerked back reflexively, causing one marshmallow to slide off into the fire and the other to go flying like a meteor across the living room.

“
It’s all right, I’ve done that many times. Don’t worry about it. We have lots more.”

Frowning, he pulled two new marshmallows out of the bag and poked them onto the fork. I could hardly keep from grinning but I didn’t want to hurt his feelings, so I worked on preparing another s’more. He made that familiar harrumph in his throat and stuck the fork over the fire, determination written on his face. He kept the marshmallows high over the flames this time, patiently turning them until they started to bubble.

“
Those look beautiful,” I said. “Here, I’ll show you how to take them off. They’re sticky and hot on the inside, so you don’t want to touch them or you’ll burn yourself.”

He held the fork out to me and I encased one of the marshmallows with the graham crackers and chocolate, squeezing it between the crackers and sliding it off the rod. With pride, I held up the oozing finished product and he followed my example, extracting the other marshmallow onto the s’more with ease.

“
Give it a second to melt the chocolate and then you can bite into it. Careful though, it’ll be hot.” He nodded seriously, like this was some sort of initiation rite, and I giggled, thinking of how I’d been eating s’mores since I was old enough to walk. After a pause, he gingerly bit into the treat, the gooey marshmallow sticking to his lips as he chewed it. He broke into a wide smile as he finished and my heart leapt in my chest, thrilled to get to share in his first taste.

“
It’s thick though,” I said, “so we need something to wash it down with. I’ll get some milk.” I leaned forward and planted a sticky kiss on his lips, enjoying the way we stuck together slightly as I pulled away.

He reached up and stroked my cheek before I headed into the kitchen, wiping the crumbs from my hands and humming happily to myself. I could hear him digging into the marshmallow bag to reload the fork as I reached for the metal refrigerator handle.

An electric shock passed through my arm when I touched the handle and I jerked back, staring at the refrigerator in confusion. Cautiously, I reached out to touch it again and nothing happened, so I opened the door and pulled out the milk, frowning.

That’s weird. I didn’t realize we’d have static buildup here.
I thought to myself, but shook it off as I poured two glasses of milk and put the jug back in the fridge. I turned back toward the living room to see Aiden setting up two sets of graham crackers with chocolate for our next round.

“
Aiden, the strangest thing just happ—”

I broke off mid-sentence as a fresh wave of electricity ripped across my chest like a lightning bolt. My whole body spasmed with the shock and the glasses I’d been holding dropped to the floor and shattered, spraying milk everywhere.

Aiden’s head jerked up and his eyes widened in horror. He leapt up off the couch and ran to me with his arms outstretched, yelling, “No!” But he was so far away. The distance between us seemed to stretch out like saltwater taffy as I reached for him, confused and afraid.

“
Help!” I cried, but the words did not leave my lips.

Lindsey, no!

His panicked voice filled my head as my vision blurred and he melted away. Another jolt wracked my body and I clamped my eyes shut in pain. Blackness swirled around me and an icy chill engulfed my body as I fell, flinging my arms and legs wildly in an attempt to grab onto something. Mind-bending fear consumed me and I felt as if I were being pulled inside out and torn limb from limb all at the same time. I slammed down into something hard, like hitting the pavement after a fall from a tall building, and went limp, my body racked with excruciating pain and my mind unable to contain it.

“
She’s alive!” an unfamiliar voice said and I struggled to breathe, a heavy weight pushing down on my chest, then releasing as a flood of fire filled my lungs.

Aiden, where are you?

I reached out to him in my mind with my last coherent thought before I succumbed to the icy blackness.

“
She’s waking up! Honey, can you hear me?”

My mother’s worried voice called to me through the fog. I cracked open one eye, the brightness in the room making me immediately shut it again. A wave of nausea hit me, rolling and heaving. A hand gently pressed on my shoulder until the dizziness passed. I lay there trying to steady my breathing and get a grasp of what was happening. My throat burned as I tried to call out to my mom.

“
Shhh, don’t try to speak, honey. The doctor said you would have a really sore throat from the tube, but now that it’s out, you should feel better soon.”

Did she say a tube? Doctor? What is going on?

Confused and anxious, I peeked out of the one eye again, the other one not functional for some reason. My mother’s anxious face swam in and out of focus. Slowly, the blurred edges of her face became clear and she smiled at me, stroking my forehead like she used to do when I was a little girl.

“
Mommy’s here, Lindsey-belle. Don’t you worry, sweetheart.”

Soothed by her voice, I breathed a deep sigh and closed my eye, settling into the mattress. The fog was a powerful force drawing me back down and I tried to shake my head to clear it, which was a terrible mistake. Another crashing wave of nausea rolled over me and I jerked to one side as my stomach wrenched and my throat constricted with a dry heave. Pain racked my chest and I lay back, panting, tears rolling down my cheeks.

“
Where the hell is that nurse?” Mom said. A woman’s unfamiliar voice piped up, bright and cheery.

“
Ah, you’re awake sweetheart! That’s wonderful. Lindsey, I’m Sharon, your nurse. Be a good girl and give me a squeeze if you can hear me, okay?” A warm, soft hand gripped mine and I did my best to respond as instructed. “Good, good. I understand you’re feeling a little nauseous which is completely normal, so I’m going to add some anti-nausea medicine to your drip. You’ll be feeling better in no time, so just hang tight, kiddo.”

My drip? What is she talking about?

My mind couldn’t take it all in and the insistent fog closed around me, cutting me off from any cohesive thought.

“
Lindsey, are you there, baby?” My mother called to me from far away before the blackness descended completely.

~

Faint twinkling notes of music grew stronger as I woke and I followed along with the familiar melody in my mind. My father mumbled, his words incoherent but insistent, repeating something I couldn’t quite hear.

Why is he here? Dad never wakes me up.

“
Lindsey, pumpkin, can you hear me? I’m so sorry I wasn’t here before when you woke up. I love you, baby.” His deep voice was stricken and my heart reached out to him, not knowing what was wrong but wanting to comfort him.

“
Dad…” My voice was little more than a hoarse whisper but I heard his sharp intake of breath.

“
Lindsey! Oh honey, you’re awake!”

Knives raked my throat as I tried to swallow and I croaked out “water.” His chair squeaked on the floor next to me.

“
Right, I’ll go find the nurse and get you some water. Stay right here,” he said, his voice giddy and frantic.

Stay right here? I don’t even know where ‘here’ is.

I blinked with one eye and stared up at the ceiling, absently tracing the little dots on the sterile, white tile while my mind grappled with the limited information I had.

He said ‘nurse.’ Mom said ‘doctor.’ Am I in the hospital?

With great effort, I slowly turned my head, taking in the plastic sea foam green couch under the window. Light from the lamp in the corner reflected on the glass in the dimly lit room so that I got a view of myself in the hospital bed, brown curls splayed against a stark white pillow, IV bag on a silver stand, tubes running everywhere.

Shaking, I propped myself up to get a better view. I wanted to see. I needed to see. My reflection stared back at me in horror, one eye completely swollen shut, my lip swollen twice the normal size on one side. I looked as though I had been beaten with a baseball bat, my face covered with bruises. A tube ran from my right breast into a container on the floor and gauze encircled my right arm. My fat lip began to quiver and my eyes swam with tears.

Did someone assault me?

I struggled to remember what had happened, but I was at a complete loss. I couldn’t tear my gaze away from the sight of my battered face, like driving past the scene of a terrible accident.

Accident?

Something bubbled up as that word came to mind and I tried desperately to figure out why. My scattered thoughts were interrupted though, as the nurse entered the room, followed close behind by my father. She was short and round with a curly bob of burgundy red hair and bright lipstick to match.

“
Oh, honey, you need to lie down,” she said. “You can’t be getting up now. That’s it, that’s better.” I didn’t have the strength to argue with her as she swiftly settled me back onto the mattress. My muscles relaxed into the bed and I had to admit she was right.

“
Your dad said you asked for water. I brought you some ice chips, sweetie. You can’t have water because we don’t want you throwing up, but the ice chips will make your throat feel better. Open up now. That’s a good girl.” She tugged lightly at my swollen lip and I winced in pain. “Oh, sorry, honey. I know that’s still tender. Just need to open up a little bit.” I dropped my jaw slightly and she placed the cool sliver of ice on my tongue. It was heavenly and gone far too quickly. “Here you go, Dad,” she said. “You can keep feeding them to her while I take her vitals.”

She proceeded to putz around me, pulling on things and talking to herself while Dad placed one ice chip after another on my tongue, his face piqued with worry.

“
What happened?” I asked, my voice hardly recognizable. His eyes darted frantically to the nurse for help. She encouraged him with a nod.

“
Do you remember anything, pumpkin?” he asked.

I closed my eyes and shook my head, just enough so he could see. He let out a long sigh and took my hand in his own. Fear started to build in my chest.

“
Well, sweetie, you were in a really bad car accident. The doctors didn’t know if you would live. You fractured several ribs and had a collapsed lung—” he broke off, his voice wavering, “—and you almost bled to death because of the gash in your arm.” Anxiety spiked in the pit of my stomach at his description of the damage. He squeezed my hand for reassurance. “You were really lucky, honey. We thought we were going to lose you. I don’t know what I would have done if…”

A tear rolled down his cheek and he looked away, unable to contain the emotion. He rubbed his face with his other hand and took a deep breath, then turned back to me with a forced smile. “But the surgeon was amazing, baby, and you’re going to be fine. You’re going to be just fine.” His smile became more genuine as he talked himself into this diagnosis, and I wondered how much of it was true.

A car accident.

I lie there silently, trying to remember. A mental image came to me: rain and streaks of light shining through droplets of water with dark trees beyond. I felt strangely detached though, like I was looking from the outside in. None of it made any sense and I closed my one eye, relaxing into the pillow.

“
I don’t remember.” I sighed, frustrated at this gap in time but Dad squeezed my hand and his voice took on a more cheerful tone.

“
That’s okay, pumpkin. It’s probably better that way anyway. Just try to get some rest. Do you want some more ice?” I declined and Nurse Sharon touched me on the shoulder.

“
Lindsey, I need you to tell me how much pain you’re feeling,” she said. “What would you rate it on a scale of one to ten—one being a little cut and ten being you slammed your fingers in the car door?” My dad made a horrified gasp and she realized her faux pas at the same time. “I’m sorry, that’s the example I always use and I just didn’t think about it. I’m really sorry.” My dad muttered something unflattering under his breath and Sharon turned back to me, determined to get her answer. “Sorry, honey. One to ten? How much pain are you in?”

I took stock of my body for the first time and while everything was stiff and I did have shooting pains when I tried to move, nothing really hurt too much at that moment.

I must be pretty heavily drugged, then.

“
I don’t know. Two, maybe three. It really only hurts when I move.”