His Every Word (3 page)

Kallie sat down and grabbed the People magazine again. “Come sit with us, Scarlett,” she said.

Scarlett thanked her and sat down on the other side of her.

“You should call Mom,” Sean said to Kallie. “She’s anxious to hear your voice.”

“I don’t know if I can deal with her right now. The crying, the emotions—I need to focus.”

“She’s not going to start screaming and yelling and sobbing,” he said, shaking his head. “Can you think of her for just a second?”

Kallie nodded, resigned. She was dreading this moment, knowing how frightened her parents must be right now.

But she also knew that Sean was right. She needed to let them know she was okay. Kallie got up again and went to a small area near a bank of elevators, stood beside a window overlooking the street below.

She took out her cell and called.

On the first ring, her mother answered. “Kallie. Thank God you’re okay,” were the first words out of her mouth.

Kallie started to cry, and then had to smile through the tears. It wasn’t Mom she’d needed to worry about crying after all. It was herself.

“Tell me you’re all right, Kallie.”

“I’m okay,” she got out. Taking a few deep breaths, she repeated it. “I’m okay.”

“Sean told us that Hunter was badly hurt. I’m so sorry, Kallie.”

“Hunter saved our lives. Did Sean tell you that?”

“Yes. Sean said Hunter was very brave. Very brave. And strong. I’m praying he’ll make a full and fast recovery.”

“Thanks, Mom. I hope so too.” She chewed on her thumbnail. “Please don’t worry too much about me, though. I got a few tiny scratches but nothing else.”

“We are worried. We’ve already booked a flight to Los Angeles and we’re due in tomorrow afternoon.”

She sighed. “Mom, you can’t take the time off work.”

“I can and I will. So can Daddy.”

Kallie smiled. Her mom was talking to her as if she was still in grade school, but actually it felt good to be cared for this way. She wasn’t strong enough right now to be an adult.

“Did Sean tell you which hospital we’re at and everything?” Kallie asked. “You should book a hotel in the area.”

“Yes, we’ve already taken care of it all. Do you want to stay in our room? We can upgrade to a suite and put you on a pullout couch.”

Kallie grinned. Although it appealed to that same part of her that wanted to be a child and taken care of again, she knew that actually having them in the same hotel suite would be grating. “I can stay in my own room, Mom. Besides, I plan on spending the majority of my time at the hospital with Hunter.”

“We’ll call you as soon as we land, baby,” her mother said. “You take care of yourself and know that we’re all thinking of you and we love you very much.”

She smiled again and held back more tears. “Love you too,” she said, wiping her eyes as she put her phone back in her purse. As she did so, she noticed a small smudge of something that looked like blood on the underside of her purse. Seeing the bloody smudge in stark relief against the handbag’s fabric, made everything that had happened that day startling real again.

So much blood, she thought. It was as if Jackson Pollock had wandered into the restaurant and splattered half the room in red paint. That was how bloody the scene had been. Terrence’s blood. Hunter’s blood.

She shook her head and walked back inside the waiting room to find Sean and Scarlett standing together, huddled almost, nervously.

“What happened?” Kallie asked, her stomach recoiling, waiting for the bad news.

“The doctor just told me I could go and see Hunter now,” she replied.

“Oh,” Kallie nodded, taking it in and processing it slowly. “That’s good news.

That means he’s relatively stable, right?”

“I don’t know.” Scarlett paused. “Anyway, I asked them if it was all right if I brought you in with me to see him. At first, they said only the person stated on his contact sheet and immediate family members were allowed, but Sean and I explained the situation and they said they could make an exception.” Scarlett smiled at her hopefully.

Kallie felt a surge of gratitude and relief flood through her. “So I can come with you?”

“Yes,” Scarlett nodded. “We’re going to see Hunter.”

***

Hunter was in the Intensive Care Unit in a private room.

Walking inside for the first time, Kallie clutched her purse as if it was a life preserver and she’d been thrown over the side of the Titanic. Which, truth be told, was exactly how she felt as she first saw him in the hospital bed, hooked up to machines and tubes and looking nothing like himself

It hit her like a body blow and she physically hunched over as she thought about the pain and agony he’d endured on her behalf.

Scarlett glanced over at her. “Are you all right, Kallie?”

“Not really,” she admitted breathlessly.

“I don’t think he’s awake. They said he was sedated and that the surgery had been really tough on him,” Scarlett told her.

Kallie could barely control her arms and legs. Just staying there, knowing how powerless she was—it was the single worst feeling she’d had since the moment she’d realized Hunter had been shot.

“Oh my God,” she said, her hand clapping over her mouth as she made sense of what she was seeing. “He’s on a ventilator. Oh God.”

Scarlett nodded anxiously. “Yes, well—I’m sure that’s common…I’m sure it happens with this kind of thing.”

Kallie knew what a ventilator meant. It meant that Hunter couldn’t breathe on his own—he was hooked up to a machine that did it for him.

It brought her back to an unpleasant childhood memory.

One of Kallie’s classmates had been hit by a car on a busy road. Kallie had been taken to visit her in the hospital. Her mother had tried to prepare her for what she was going to see, but nothing could do it justice. The girl she’d just played with at recess a few days before, was stretched out on a hospital bed, silent and unresponsive, breathing with the aid of a machine, just as Hunter was doing now.

At the time, Kallie had been struck dumb with fear, hiding behind her mother, barely able to express afterwards how shocked and horrified she’d been at the sight of her school friend having been reduced to an inanimate object.

Now, standing in a similar hospital room more than a decade later, it was as if Kallie was caught in a nightmare and a time warp all at once. The past and the present seemed horribly intertwined, and she felt like a tiny fly caught in the web of some vast universal plan that didn’t care about her or anyone she loved.

Kallie forced herself forward, stepping closer to Hunter’s bed, not wanting to see more evidence of just how badly hurt he was, but knowing that she couldn’t run from this.

He was here like this because of her—because he’d been willing to die for her.

The least she could do was bare witness to his suffering.

As she drew closer, Kallie was able to clearly see the large dressing over his chest, and the dark shadow of blood buried deep within the layers of gauze and medical tape. He was shirtless, but his legs remained covered by a white, sterile looking blanket.

His torso was grotesquely swollen from the trauma. The bruising was like something out of a horror movie. There were concentric circles of purple morphing into blues and greens and even darker, blackish bruising near his clavicle.

With the help of the ventilator, his breathing was fairly deep and consistent, although the machine sound made it seem as though he wasn’t even completely human anymore. He was partly a machine now, and without that part, he wouldn’t survive even a few minutes.

His face was slack, making him look older than his years. His cheeks were sunken in, his eyes darkened.

She traced his heart monitor with her eyes, as well as an IV running to his arm, filling him with lifesaving drugs or fluids that he desperately needed.

His battered chest rose and fell, rose and fell in the silence of the room.

Kallie moved closer still and took one of his hands in her own hand. His hand was warm and full of life. Touching it, she sighed, her entire body relaxing. Even in his abused state, the mere touch of his skin was enough to quell her worst fears.

“Hunter,” she said, softly. “Hunter, I’m here with you. I love you.”

He didn’t show any sign of response. His eyes didn’t open as she half-expected them to. His lips didn’t murmur a response.

There was just the beeping and hissing of electronics and devices that were meant to monitor his vitals and ensure his survival in this precarious time.

“He’s going to make it,” Scarlett announced.

“Of course he will,” Kallie replied, instantly regretting the prickly tone in her voice. She sighed. “I mean—he looks strong, doesn’t he?”

Scarlett nodded with just a hint of uncertainty. “He does. He’s still fighting.

That’s Hunter.”

Kallie smiled down at him. “Do you think it would be all right if I touched his hair, just caressed it a little bit?”

“I’m sure it would be.”

Kallie continued to hold his hand with one of hers and then, with her left hand, she reached up and stroked Hunter’s hair away from his forehead.

He was so pale. It frightened her. The pallor of his skin was unnatural, almost ghostly. She needed to see the color return to his cheeks, those dark, flashing eyes, the wicked grin. She needed to see those things again.

This couldn’t be her last memory of him.

It wouldn’t be fair if everything ended this way.

“We all love you, Hunter,” Kallie said. “Me and Scarlett are here with you.

We’re going to stay by your side no matter what, and we’re going to make sure you get through this with flying colors.”

Her own voice sounded unnatural to her ears.

She was trying too hard. She was struggling to find her center, to find her own strength. If the roles had somehow been reversed, she wondered, what would Hunter be doing right now?

She imagined he’d be fighting for her in other ways—making sure she had the very best care, talking to every doctor, letting people know that there was someone who cared about this patient.

Kallie felt suddenly young and out of her depth. She needed to do something, to do more than just speak empty words of hope to Hunter’s unhearing ears. She needed to fight for him as hard as he had fought for her. She needed to get answers about his condition.

But how?

I’m not his family, I’m not his emergency contact. I’m just some chick that says
she loves him, and unfortunately, that doesn’t amount of much when you’re dealing with
healthcare privacy laws.

She turned to Scarlett. “We need to speak to his doctors again and find out what they’re doing next. We need to know that he’s being taken care of.”

“He is being taken care of,” someone said from just outside the room. At that exact moment, a nurse entered the room. The nurse was an older woman, probably early to mid-fifties with a shock of silvery white hair and a pleasant smile. “He’s got the best surgeon on the West Coast looking after him,” the nurse continued.

Kallie smiled, feeling a little embarrassed. “I’m sorry, I’m just scared. This is a horrifying situation.”

The nurse nodded. “It is scary,” she agreed, walking over to Hunter’s chart and picking it up, eyeing it with the quick and easy glance of an old pro. “But even though he’s only a few hours post-surgery, his vitals look strong. He’s not out of the woods by any means, but I think there’s not a better team to have on your side than the folks right here.”

Kallie continued holding Hunter’s hand. “What’s the lead surgeon’s name—the one who operated on Hunter?”

The nurse put the chart back in its place and smiled wider. “His name is Doctor Forrest. Robert Forrest. He’s the best in the business—ask anyone and they’ll tell you as much.”

“Thank you for saying all of this,” Kallie replied. “You have no idea how comforting it is to hear that Hunter’s in good hands.”

“Just let the doctors and nurses do their work, honey. Let the staff around here do what we do best. We heal people every day. We take care of people, strangers, as if they were our own flesh and blood.”

“And you say his vitals look strong? That’s a good sign?”

The nurse chuckled. “Well, it’s certainly not a bad sign, now, is it?”

Kallie smiled. “I guess not.”

“It’s good because it shows that he’s fighting hard to get through this first part.

The first twenty-four hours after a traumatic injury is very important to long-term recovery prospects. So every little bit counts. Now, when I see a patient exhibiting relatively normal blood pressure, strong pulse, steady heart rate—“

“But what about the ventilator? He can’t even breathe on his own.”

“He has a badly injured lung, so of course they’re going to play it safe and make sure his breathing is assisted as his body recovers from the initial trauma. My guess is that by this time tomorrow, he’ll be off that thing.” But now the nurse’s face took on an exaggerated look of suspicion and concern. “I’m not supposed to say most of this stuff, you know,” she whispered conspiratorially. “Years ago we could give opinions but not anymore. After all, I’m not a doctor and I didn’t attend some fancy medical school. So take it or leave it. This is just one nurse’s opinion.”

“I’ll take it,” Kallie said, feeling more and more relieved.

The nurse checked her watch. “Now, visiting hours are over in about five minutes. But you take your time and I’ll come back around in a few. Okay?”

“Okay. And thanks again,” Kallie told her.

The nurse left the room and Kallie and Scarlett looked at one another.

“Was she nuts or just really, really cool?” Scarlett whispered.

Kallie laughed and shrugged. “I have no idea, but beggars can’t be choosers. She helped me feel better.”

“Good.” Scarlett smiled at her. “Look, I’m going to let you have a moment with him alone. I’ll wait outside.”

“You don’t have to—“

Scarlett held up her hand. “Please. It’s the least I can do after everything you’ve been through, Kallie.” And then, before Kallie could protest, Scarlett left the room as well.

Now, Kallie was alone with him.