Selling the Drama (35 page)

"I really need to see him."

He nodded, rising from his seat. "Then let's
go and see him."

Charlotte walked beside him down the hall;
they took the elevator up one floor and she took note that they had
now entered a new ward, the intensive care one. The one where the
worst could still happen. She thrust her shaking hands into her
pockets, clenching the fabric within as she curled her hands into
fists. She could only hope the staff would direct Jake up here when
he finally returned from the car park. Usually these situations
were closed off to family only, but Charlotte expected that Jake,
still outfitted in his uniform, would not be denied admittance. At
least she hoped that would be the case; she really needed him right
now.

The doctor pushed through a door and held it
open for her; they entered what seemed to be a central hub, with a
medical station in the middle and rooms with glass walls
surrounding it in a circular design. The doctor walked directly to
another door, the room beyond deliberately dim in comparison to the
area they had just passed through, the sounds of medical equipment
punctuating the otherwise quiet air. When the door closed behind
them, she had a sensation of being vacuum sealed. She had never
been in intensive care before, had never known a person so gravely
injured or so seriously ill. Peering back over her shoulder,
Charlotte could see a nurse taking a seat at the central desk, her
eyes trained to the computer monitor in front of her, a split
screen showing eight beds, a condensed representation of her
responsibility for the duration of her shift.

Gently cupping her elbow, the doctor guided
Charlotte over to the side of the bed, the right side, where Toby
still looked relatively normal, despite the cuts and bruises that
covered his entire face. Her eyes drifted to the other side of his
body, so broken and bandaged, his arm elevated, his torso wrapped
tightly, and his leg ending just below the knee in a thick covering
of bandages that swathed the entire stump that remained. Charlotte
gripped the side of the bed rail, her legs giving way beneath her.
There were so many parts of him damaged; so many injuries that
needed to heal, and this was not including the ones hidden inside
of his body that she could not even see.

"You can stay with him. I expect he'll wake
up in the next half an hour," the doctor offered.

Charlotte nodded. "My friend, the police
officer that was with me. Can he come in here?"

"I'll let him know where to find you. If you
need anyone at any time, press that button right there." He pointed
to a clearly marked assistance button on the wall just above the
bed head. "I'll come back shortly so I can take a look at him as he
wakes. Nurses are directly on hand and monitoring him closely." He
left her then, closing the door softly behind him.

Charlotte looked back down at Toby, reaching
her hand out to run it through his hair. It felt gritty between her
fingers and as she swept them through the strands again, she
noticed a few shards of glass dropping down into the palm of her
hand. They glinted under the overhead light, tiny shining pieces of
evidence, a tell on just how close he had come to death. This
glass, it could be from his car, or it could be from the truck that
had hit him.

Sinking down into a chair that was lined up
beside the bed, she rested her head against the cool metal of the
rail, concentrating exclusively on her breathing; deep inhalations
she held onto for long seconds before letting each one out with a
shudder. She did not want to cry right now; not when he might wake
up at any moment and see her. She needed to be as strong for him as
he would be for her if this situation were reversed. She needed to
be as controlled as he had been when Porter had attacked her all
those years ago; she had thought she was going to die that night,
but Toby had remained focused throughout, getting her help and
keeping her as still as she possibly could be in order to prevent
further blood loss. She needed to be as calm as he had been
throughout each one of their children's births. She needed to
channel him in order to help him. If Toby could overcome his
anxiety and combat his natural inclination to panic on each of
those other occasions, then she had better be able to hold it
together right now, the only time he had ever really needed her to
step up.

With one hand still buried within his hair
and the other gripping the cold metal rail, she waited.

Toby woke to pain. It was everywhere,
intense and raw, stealing his every breath away. A light beamed
down from the ceiling above him, dim, yet still blinding. He tried
to bring his right hand up to his face so he could shield his eyes,
but the movement brought him so much pain, he cried out from the
effort.

"Hey. It's alright. Just lie still."
Charlotte leaned over his face, blocking the light, her hair
falling down like a curtain, the strands brushing against his neck.
Her hand came to rest along the side of his face, cool and
comforting. He leaned into it ever so slightly.

"What's happened to me?" He winced with
pain, the effort of talking seemed even beyond his capabilities
right now.

"You were in a car accident. With a truck."
Charlotte's voice wobbled and he watched as she struggled for
composure, her eyes blinking rapidly, a forced smile that resembled
a grimace more than anything comforting gracing her lovely
lips.

"I don't remember it. What's wrong with
me?"

Her hand remained fixed against his face,
but she moved her thumb slowly, stroking him along the temple. Her
eyes filled with tears that she seemed to be trying to blink away.
"I'll get the doctor."

Toby shook his head, reaching out with his
right hand to take hold of her arm, gasping from the effort, yet
persistent in his goal. He closed his hand around her forearm.
"Tell me first what's wrong with me," he insisted, wanting to hear
it from her in place of a doctor who would no doubt overload him
with medical jargon he had no ability to concentrate on in the
present moment.

Charlotte stroked his cheek again, leaning
down to press her lips against his forehead, resting them there,
her tears falling onto his face. "I love you so much," she said
tearfully, her lips grazing his skin once more before pulling
back.

Toby looked at her fearfully, a deep sense
of unease taking root within him. She never told him that she loved
him; he knew how much she did. But he could remember every single
time she had simply just come right out and said it. He looked her
directly in the eyes, smiling ruefully. "I must be pretty fucked up
if you're telling me you love me."

Charlotte squeezed her eyes shut and covered
her face with both hands, a cry of sorrow so winsome coming out of
her it brought tears to Toby's own eyes. He craned his neck in an
attempt to get a look at himself, but he was unable to raise his
body at all, so visibility was completely impossible. Dropping her
hands and swiping at her face to rid it of tears, Charlotte looked
right at him and began to list the many injuries he had
suffered.

"And my leg? How badly is that broken?" It
hurt like nothing else; more than his arm and shoulder combined.
Toby watched as Charlotte's face changed, tragedy writing itself
all over it.

"Toby, your leg is gone. It's been amputated
just below the knee."

There are moments in life when time seems to
stop. Sometimes the pause is felt in the moment; other times the
reflection comes later. Toby felt this pause presently; he could
not breathe, he could not speak; he could not even truly believe
that he had heard her correctly. Time had stopped and he did not
want it to restart again. Concentrating all of his efforts,
gritting his teeth, he gripped the rail of the bed beside him with
his one good hand and swung himself up, black dots swimming before
him, so overcome by pain he could barely tolerate it. He glanced
down to the end of the bed, evidence of what she had just told him
lying there for his own confirmation. Letting go of the rail, Toby
thumped back down onto the bed, the pain eclipsing all else, a cry
of agony wailing out of him that had nothing to do with realising
he now only had one leg. He had moved too much; he could vaguely
hear Charlotte calling his name as he passed out, the darkness
blanking the pain, a welcome retreat from the reality he was now
intent on avoiding.

Toby spent much of the next forty eight
hours drifting in a haze of pain. During one moment of clarity, he
woke to see Charlotte curled up in a chair beside his bed, her head
dropped to one side as she slept, her hand wrapped tightly around a
cord that ran down from one of the IV-lines connected to his arm.
Pain medication, Toby thought. She is controlling my pain
medication. He watched her for a few moments, no idea on how long
he had been in the hospital so far; no idea on how long she had
been sitting beside this bed for him. She would hold the universe
together for him for as long as it took. If tomorrow never came for
him, she would survive. He couldn't say the same for himself if
their positions were reversed.

Charlotte could tell each time the pain
medication would wear off. He would not necessarily wake, rather he
would slip into a state of agitation that would often lead to a cry
of agony if she did not press the button to deliver another dose
soon enough. The nurses assured her he could not overdose; the
system would not allow her to administer a dose too soon after the
other and it would automatically dispense a dose if she left it too
long, but she was still hesitant to press it automatically every
twenty minutes. So she would wait sometimes, to see if he really
needed it yet, and then feel like shit when he seemed to go from
being okay to experiencing sheer agony within thirty seconds.

Exhaustion had nothing on her. Ellie drifted
in several times a day through til late at night for those first
two days, a wailing Danielle in her arms for Charlotte to feed.
After the last time, two hours previous, Charlotte had handed her
daughter back over to Ellie with a heavy heart and instructions to
tell her mother to wean the baby to a bottle. It was unfair on them
to have to bring her down here every few hours and it was not
possible for Charlotte to keep the baby here with her. Danielle was
too mobile now, too much in need of attention, and Charlotte had
none left over to give.

Leaving Toby was not an option at this
point. He was still too critical and Charlotte was not yet
convinced he would not die if she left the hospital. Of course, he
might still die with her right beside him, but at least she would
be here with him if he did.

After Ellie left with Danielle, Charlotte
cried for an entire hour. Six months was the youngest age she had
ever stopped feeding one of her babies, and Danielle was her last
one. She felt enormously cheated and even though she knew Danielle
would be just fine, she still felt a deep sense of abandonment. She
could not even bring herself to think of what the other children
might be feeling right now, having not seen either of their parents
for two entire days and nights.

Charlotte pressed the pain button again as
Toby began to moan and shift. After watching him settle, she left
the room so she could make a quick phone call. Out in the hall, she
dialled Eloise, her most experienced trainer at the gym.

"Eloise, it's Charlotte," she greeted, as
the other woman answered her phone.

"Oh my goodness, Charlotte! How is Toby? Are
you all alright?" Eloise's voice was high with concern, gushing out
in rivers of sympathy and sadness.

"He's very critical. The kids are with Mum
of course and she has Ellie and Jake staying there to help her out.
I need you to keep things running over at the gym for me. I don't
know how long it will be until I come in again. Can you see if
Aaron can take over my acro classes? He should be able to muddle
through. I have some training manuals and DVD's in my office he can
have a look at for some direction." She pinched the bridge of her
nose, all of the elements of daily life that would need to be
juggled fighting their way into her consciousness.

"Don't worry about all that, we'll be fine.
I can get Bree each afternoon from Kindy if you like and bring her
back to the gym for a few hours to give your mum a break. She can
run through routines and follow me around," Eloise offered
kindly.

Charlotte squeezed her eyes shut, drawing in
a ragged breath. She nodded, but then realised Eloise would not be
able to see this. The appreciation she felt right now for all those
around her was immense. "Thank you, Eloise. So much. But if she
becomes painful, don't hesitate to let her know you won't pick her
up the next day unless she pulls back into line." Bree could be
contrary when she put her mind to it.

"Oh, she won't be painful. You know I adore
her. She reminds me of myself as a kid; a little pocket rocket.
I'll just work her hard so she's really exhausted for your mum each
night." Eloise laughed softly. "Besides, when Aaron sees how good I
am with kids, he might shake a leg, literally, and let the two of
us get on with the rest of our lives."

Charlotte laughed along with her. Eloise and
Aaron had a friends with benefits type of arrangement that amused
the rest of them down at the gym to no end. Lately though, all the
benefits seemed stacked on Aaron's side, as Eloise realised more
and more she wanted a proper relationship, with commitment and
plans. Charlotte was not holding out much hope for her though.
Aaron was not a serious young man at all; he liked the bachelor
life too much and did not seem inclined to be making any future
plans beyond those that extended to the coming weekend. Still,
Charlotte could not blame Eloise for trying. When you had your
sights set on someone, it was often hard to see the bigger
picture.