Miranda (5 page)

“Whatever you say,
ally
.” A look of anger accompanied the brief silence. “I would appreciate it if you review the employee memo that Alex drafted. If you approve it, authorize its distribution.”

He dared question me when he saw me taking my purse and cell phone.

“Where are you going?”

I stopped right when I was about to open the door. I turned and responded, because answering his questions must have been included in his
instructions
.

“Hell!” I opened the door.

“I hope it goes well!”

The uproar behind me left him speechless.

Why do they think that it matters to me that he’s dying? If they only knew that is what I’ve wanted my whole life…

One week after the accident, Norman still wasn’t showing signs of improvement. I signed in at the intensive care unit window. That night, a nurse whom I had not seen before was in charge of issuing visitation authorizations.

“Name of patient?”

“Norman Clausell.” She directed her attention to the endless list of patients. A friendly smile formed on her face.

“You can see him now.”

It wasn’t until I had signed the paperwork she handed me that I rethought her words.

“What do you mean I can see him now? I know what the visiting hours are. Has someone else been here?” I was the only one authorized to see him.

“Some time ago, yes, a young man was asking about him.”

“A young man? Who?” My face must not have conveyed friendliness.

“He left without telling me his name.” She blushed. “He was very handsome, and he had light colored eyes.”

The answer she gave me didn’t seem very professional. I was left with questions in my mind.
Who could it have been?

“Thank you.” I entered the doorway to the rooms.

In Norman’s room, the medical devices created a terrifying symphony of sound.
A handsome young man was asking about you.
I couldn’t stop thinking about that while looking at his swollen, injured face.
Could it have been Hernandez?

I pulled up the only seat in the room and sat next to the bed. I had too many questions, and the only person who could give me answers was temporarily silenced.

“What have you done, Norman? What have you gotten into? What happened? When will you wake up? You need to organize your office, fire a few idle employees, fix your life and your affairs…” My sermon continued until a voice interrupted me.

“That’s good of you to do. He needs a familiar and friendly voice, even though I fear that, for now, he won’t wake up.” She checked the IV line. “He’s still under sedation.”

I dried my tears.

“His progress is very slow, but look: the good news is that he’s making progress.”

I couldn’t handle the joy I felt when hearing those words. I looked at Norman’s face and smiled. New tears rolled down my cheeks. The doctor continued chatting, looking at me with a certain distance. As long as she was giving me news about Norman, I would put up with all of those looks and daily dramas that were certainly products of her imagination.

“The bleeding has stopped. Giving you a prognosis would be very premature, but it’s undoubtedly a good sign. If it continues like this, and if his brain swelling continues to improve, we can proceed with the operations to repair his bones.”

I lowered my head as a gesture of appreciation. The doctor marched off and I went back to looking at Norman, combing his unkempt hair a little. He always liked looking presentable.

Two weeks passed with no change in routine. Norman’s progress was slow–very slow. At first, the nursing staff almost kicked me out when visiting hours were over. A few weeks later, they would become my friends. I would bring them doughnuts, coffee, and chatted with them. I could enter and stay as long as I pleased. Surely they thought I was his fiancée, or his lover. Why would anyone else stay by their boss’ side day and night? I asked myself what kinds of rumors were spreading: their conclusions had to be unspeakable. No one knew the truth. No one knew our past. Doctor Martinez had the questions of a gossip written in her eyes. I never wanted to provide more information than she already had. I never felt like giving her an explanation.

Even though Norman was a very successful man who had accumulated a great fortune due to his extraordinary capacity for business, he never lost his way: although his negotiation skills earned him many enemies, he contributed to improving the lives of whomever would cross his path. Nevertheless, according to Norman, the only real enemies a person could have are poverty and corruption.

And there is something more that attracts me to this man, but I wouldn’t know how to describe it…

***

Sleepless nights at the hospital were taxing. Fatigue stayed with me by daytime and not even a ton of makeup hid the darkness that seeped through under my eyes. Luckily, I no longer saw the detective, apart from the two times that we met and he updated me on the steps taken to contact Norman’s family. In short, he was unsuccessful.

During that time, Ethan and Alex succeeded in calming the media, who did nothing but attempt to obtain information on Norman’s health–perhaps an exclusive would increase their ratings. After a few days, the media stopped trying. Other events in the political realm occupied the front pages of the country. I never thought I would have reason to be thankful for politicians.

Medika projects continued on their way. Decisions that Norman generally made fell to me instead. I must confess: before making decisions, I would go to his room and tell him about proposals, announcements, and requests. I would consult him first, even though he couldn’t respond. His space in the hospital was converted into my space for peace, for philosophizing, and for making thoughtful decisions.

When good news arrived that the swelling in his brain had diminished sufficiently to take him off the medication that kept him sedated, it gave me an incomparable happiness and I thanked god a thousand-and-one times.

One of those evenings, on the third day after taking him off the sedatives, something unexpected happened. I had covered his bed with paperwork. I was looking for a way to increase distribution of our products and services.

“Do you think that we should do business with the distributor in El Salvador? I think that…”

He said in a whisper, coughing slightly, “No, no chance in h…ell.”

The emotion was so overwhelming that the shock made me trip on the IV cart. I almost yanked out his catheters. I kissed his hand. I kissed his cheeks. My tears drenched his face.

“Calm down.” The cough interrupted him, but I didn’t stop hugging him. “For God’s sake, Miranda, this is harassment.”

We shared a laugh. My much-loved Norman had returned to life. I pushed the nurse call button and the room filled with people in less than a minute. I had to leave while doctors and nurses gave him thorough evaluations. My emotions were so strong that I wanted to share them with someone.

I thought about calling Ethan, but I gave up. Once I lose confidence in someone, it’s nearly impossible for that person to restore it. I called the one person I should never have called.

“Inspector Hernandez,” he answered. His voice was accompanied by the crazy sound of sirens.

“Hello,” was the only thing I could think of saying.

“Miranda?” Did he recognize my voice or did he see my number on his cell phone screen?

“Yes. Sorry, it’s that…” I had doubts about continuing the call.

“Miranda, is everything fine?” The tone of his voice reflected consternation and surprise.

“Yes. Norman just woke up.”

He fell silent. Only the sound of sirens could be heard. When he reacted, his voice sounded more relaxed.

“That’s very encouraging, Miranda.”

“Yes…” I repeated, and I found myself at a loss for words. “The doctors are conducting a routine evaluation on him. I need to hang up. I only wanted to share the great news with someone. Thank you.”

He must have imagined that I was smiling.

“No, no. Thank you for sharing this with me! We’ll see each other later at the hospital. I still need to interview Mr. Clausell.”

When he hung up, a thought invaded my mind and bothered me for the rest of the evening.
Should I have called Hernandez?

*** 

I couldn’t stand it, when I realized that Norman was fine and that he seemed to be out of danger, I pressed him for an explanation. At first, I did it subtly, with the passing of days there was less subtlety in my insistence. I needed to know what happened. What caused the accident that almost sent him to his next life? He never lost his cool. Every time I asked him, he always responded with the same words: “It was an accident, Miranda. Accidents happen and one happened to me. Let’s forget the past and live in the present.” There was no trace of worry in his words, so, why should I worry? Probably because there was something in his eyes that I could not decipher with certainty. Could it be guilt?

The pace of Norman’s improvement slowed over the passing days. On various occasions I had to inform Hernandez that my friend was still not ready for an interview, and that doctor Martinez didn’t approve either.

He surprised me at the entrance to Norman’s room where entry was restricted. Hernandez was a lawman, and wouldn’t do it without the necessary authorization. You could see determination in his face. His eyes told me that he already had been patient, that he deserved answers and, that morning, he was willing to get them.

“I don’t want to intrude, Miranda, but I have a duty to perform.”

That sweet voice that he used could easily convince me if I didn’t maintain my guard.
If you told me to drop my pants or lift my skirt, I wouldn’t think twice.

“I understand, but…” I paused, “understand me.
My
duty is to look out for Norman’s health.”

“And why is that your duty?”

A real answer was overdue. Hernandez was another one on the list of those that did not understand what it was that united Norman and I: an intimate relationship, of course, but not
that
kind. It wasn’t easy to remain fixed on his eyes, nor confess the truth.

“Because that man is the only family I know. He has looked after me, he has been my mentor, my friend, and almost my father… for more than twenty years.” His eyes still looked for another answer. “And no! I am not his fiancée, nor his lover, nor his…!” I didn’t say the last word that I was thinking. Even though that was the response that he expected, it surprised him. I felt the presence of some curious eyes on us. I didn’t look at anyone. I lowered my voice. “Are you satisfied?” The expression on his face was like gold. The words choked him. “You have no reason to look at me that way. That is the big question that everyone here asks. Congratulations! You have the exclusive. Now, if you’ll allow me, I must get back to Mr. Clausell.”

Without giving him time to let out the words that got stuck in his throat, I moved away. I expect that he understood that the man who had been on the verge of going to a better place was one of the two people whom I trusted completely, who, as far as I knew, behind all of those machines, had the most noble heart on the planet, who had always believed in me, and had given me opportunities that would have otherwise been impossible if he hadn’t been there.

***

Norman spent more time awake than sedated. The surgeries were successful, but the titanium rods in each leg caused him so much pain that they sometimes had to give him powerful painkillers.

“How are things going at the office?” The question conveyed a complaint.

“Why does the office matter, Norman? Everything is under control.”

He laughed.

“I know that you must have everything under control. It’s just that I can’t stop worrying. You must go rest. You know? Look at the time!”

He embellished his authoritative tone. He definitely was getting better every time.

“I’m fine,” but the yawn gave me away.

He laughed again.

“Have you seen the circles under your eyes?”

“Thanks for the compliment, Norman. I don’t know why I’m inclined to keep you company, if you’ve gone back to being as insufferable as you were before…”

The criticisms were silenced by a cough and another even more irritating complaint.

“Miranda, go get some rest.”

“See? You can’t even speak very much. Don’t worry. You are the one who needs rest. Get comfortable. Do you want me to look for more blankets? I brought a book to read to you.”

This time, he didn’t laugh.

“Perfect! Now I am back to being a boy.” He was about to lose. He had nothing to gain by arguing further. He had nowhere to go.

Making myself comfortable in the chair that had become my friend, I put up my feet and rested them on the edge of the bed.

“Look, Margaret says that these are your favorites.” I showed him the cover of the book that Margaret gave me. I remembered that on various occasions, she mentioned that what he most liked doing in the little free time he had was to enjoy some good wine and read poetry.