Goodbye to You Page 18

  There’s nowhere else I’d rather be.

  Boy, is she gonna be pissed when she wakes up in recovery and sees me staring down at her.

  Chapter 19

  Thea

  I pay the cabbie and grab my overnight bag from the seat. Parking here sucks and I don’t want to hog a space for several nights, or more in case of complications.

  I pray for no complications.

  I arrive early and enter through the emergency room, checking in at the receptionist’s desk.

  The receptionist behind the desk points down the hallway. “Your friends are already here.”

  I take the nearest corridor to the Women’s Hospital, terrified I’ll find Shay. Instead, Bennie and Leesh sit in the waiting area.

  “What the hell are you guys doing here?” I rush over and hug both of them, so thankful they’re here.

  Bennie pulls back, eyes darting around. “Wait, where’s Shay? I thought he was coming with?”

  She narrows her eyes at me, probably noticing my swollen eyes and blotchy skin.

  “He-he couldn’t come.”

  Leesh glares at me. “Thea, what did you do?”

  I gaze at the ground. “Nothing. We just decided things weren’t going to work out.”

  Bennie steeples her fingers and points them at me. “We decided, T, or you decided?”

  “What’s the difference? He wants something I may not be able to give him. You know, kids someday.”

  “Crap, he said that?” Leesh’s eyes are as wide as dinner plates.

  I look up at the ceiling. “Not exactly. He confirmed my suspicions, though, when he talked about wanting kids, so I broke up with him.”

  “Like hell. Were you a total bitch? Did you try to make him hate you? Because you suck at that.” My heart drops into my stomach as I recall the many times when Bennie and I were freshmen and she was always losing or ruining my things. I tried to be nasty and failed miserably.

  She’s right. I’m no good at that, and I can only hope that my efforts at full-frontal bitch have improved over the last few years.

  We check in at the nurse’s station and head to my sterile room. I change into the fabric gown and climb into bed. Nurses shuffle in and out, their rubber-bottomed shoes squeaking on the tile floor. I absentmindedly sign paperwork, the beeping of the monitors and the buzzing of the fluorescent lights echoing distantly. I feel like I’m watching this scene from a distance.

  Daddy and Jen come in, squeezing between Bennie and Leesh and hugging me tight. The nurse purses her lips but doesn’t say anything.

  I hadn’t told Daddy or Jen what time, or even day, my surgery is, but they’re here.

  I narrow my eyes at Bennie and Leesh. “Did you call them?”

  “No!” Their voices blend in unison.

  Shay.

  He must have called earlier this week because he wouldn’t call after midnight.

  Would he? Since I told him to go and stay away, maybe he wanted to ensure I’m surrounded by people who love me and will take care of me.

  The way he wanted to and I wouldn’t let him.

  He’s protecting me, still, the way I think I’m protecting him.

  He has no right. I guess the way I have no right to protect him either.

  I am the biggest idiot in the world.

  The anesthesiologist and the surgeons come in, discussing the procedures again in detail.

  Daddy turns his back while they mark up my skin with the locations of the incisions. When they leave, he turns around and cracks knock-knock jokes to distract me, just like when I was a kid.

  The sedative is kicking in, and the punch lines barely register.

  “Okay folks, we need to head on down to the OR.” A nurse rolls my bed to the door,

  Jen covers her mouth with her hand, tears rolling down her face. One of the nurses lays a reassuring hand on Jen’s shoulder. “We’ll take good care of her, I promise.”

  “Stop, Jen. This is a good thing.” I swipe my own tears away.

  “We’ll be quite a few hours, so why don’t you head out to the cafeteria to grab a bite to eat, and we’ll come back with any news.”

  I’m terrified, and start to shake a little. My stomach churns.

  This is happening.

  I wish now I had Shay to hold my hand and tell me everything was going to be okay before I fell into unconsciousness.

  The last thing I hear instead is my own voice: “what the hell have I done?”

  ***

  Thea

  I’ve never had general anesthesia, so I had no idea what to expect.

  My throat is like the Sahara.

  Right. The breathing tube.

  The lights aren’t bright, but my eyes were closed for hours, and they refuse to open all the way. Through the slits I see a nurse, and from the sound of the beeping machines I think she must be taking my vitals.

  “How’re you doing, love?”

  I croak, “Okay. Thirsty.”

  “Let me.” A hushed voice comes from the other side of the bed. I turn my head in that direction.

  I’m hallucinating.

  After the bitch-fest send-off I gave him last night, I can’t believe Shay would show.

  Against my wishes. I told him I never wanted to see him again. He figured I was lying.

  “Why are you here? Didn’t I tell you…” I push up on my elbows. At least I try to, but I’m sore, and the multitude of tubes and catheters and cuffs are holding me down.

  He walks to the bed, pitcher of ice in hand, and scoops a few cubes into a cup. He pushes the button on the hospital bed and raises me up a few inches so I can suck on the ice.

  He grins, those dimples etching his cheeks. Like that major blow-out last night didn’t happen. “I heard what you said. I don’t care.”

  “But…”

  He crosses his arms across his chest. “But nothing. I told you before you don’t get to make my decisions for me. I love you, and you love me.”

  I open my mouth to speak, but he won’t let me.

  “Don’t deny it. Love is the only thing that matters. You don’t have this,” he waves his hand between us, “and let it go without a fight. You worry I’ll be disappointed if we get married and have kids and you can’t nurse them. That’s what formula is for. Many women with their own breasts opt not to nurse, and that’s okay.”

  “Shay, I—”

  He holds up his hand, asking me to stop talking.

  “So what if, when we’re finally ready to start a family, something happens and we can’t have our own? We’ll adopt. So many kids in foster care need families, or we can adopt a baby. Whatever you want.”

  My heart squeezes.

  “I can think of only one more succinct way to tell you this: Thea, I don’t give a flying fuck.”

  Now I know he’s serious.

  “Shay, shut up. Yes, I lied. I didn’t tell you the truth about the surgery to start, and I lied last night to protect you.”

  “I don’t need you to protect me. I’m an adult, not a child, and I can handle the truth no matter what.”

  “Never again. You get bonus points for getting by Bennie and Leesh. How’d you manage that?”

  “Promised them free drinks at Paddy’s for life if they let me in.”

  “Sold out by best friends for shooters.” I shake my head. They wouldn’t give in that easily, so I imagine the conversation went much differently, with my friends threatening serious bodily harm if he ever hurt me.

  Love them.

  Love him.

  Life is good.

  ***

  Thea

  Life sucks.

  I’m sore and semi-sleep deprived.

  I knew recovery would hurt. I leave the hospital after two days with a handful of prescriptions to help with the pain.

  No complications, and everything looks good, Dr. Beltran says.

  It’s all good. Except for these awful drains embedded into the surgical sites to prevent fluid build-up. Those things are
a major inconvenience.

  I hate sleeping on my back, propped up on two feet of pillows. If it weren’t for the painkillers, which make me loopy, I would get no sleep at all instead of the restless sleep I do get.

  The drugs make me itchy, too. No way I could get hooked on the stuff. I’d scratch my skin raw.

  Shay has been great. He’s doing everything for me.

  I wish he would stop.

  He needs to leave. Go to class.

  This is one reason I didn’t want him to know. I thought he’d drop everything, neglect his own responsibilities to take care of me.

  It’s annoying.

  He pops his head into the bedroom.

  “Hungry?”

  “No,” I grunt.

  “Thirsty?”

  “No.”

  “Do you need anything?”

  “For you to leave.”

  His head snaps back. “What?”

  “Go.” I cross my arms across my chest, jarring one of the drains.

  Owwww.

  I drop my arms back to the bed.

  “No.”

  I roll my eyes. “I don’t want you here anymore.”

  “Liar.”

  “Seriously.” My voice should be dripping with venom, but all I can muster is a squeak.

  “Sit up. It’s time to check the drains.”

  The drains need to be cleared and the fluid measured twice a day. It is not a pleasant task.

  “Once we’re done, I’ll get you up for laps around the house.”

  More like up and down the hall a couple times, but it’s good for my circulation and keeps the rest of me from getting too sore. I want to go outside, but I’m still too weak to walk far.

  I’m going stir-crazy, and want to be left alone. I pick up a book from the nightstand and throw it at him.

  Try to throw it at him. I can’t lift my arms above my shoulders, and my range of motion is limited by the stitches and the shooting pain. The book hits the floor with a resounding thud.

  “Why won’t you go?” I sob. I’m hideous and gross and must smell awful. I can’t tell anymore.

  He stuffs his hands into his pockets and leans against the door jamb. “You need me.”

  “No, I don’t.” I jut out my lower lip.

  “Yes you do. Even if you don’t want me here, I’m not leaving,” He pushes off the door frame and grabs the measuring vial and log from the dresser. “Unzip your jacket.”

  I open my mouth to say no. He glares at me. I clamp my mouth shut and comply. He sits on the edge of the bed and unscrews the cap from one drain bulb.

  It makes the most disgusting sound when Shay squeezes the fluid into the measuring tube before replacing the cap.

  So gross.

  I pull up the ear buds lying in my lap and listen to music while he does it.

  Squiiisssh.

  I turn the music up louder.

  Then he’s all done. I pull the ear buds out.

  “Ready for your walk?”

  I shake my head. “I don’t want to get up yet.”

  “Okay. I’ll come ba…”

  “Stay.”

  He holds up the gunk-filled vials. “Let me dump these.”

  He rushes to the bathroom. The toilet flushes and the water in the sink runs.

  He returns and the mattress sinks under his weight.

  I lean into him, his clean, woodsy scent a comfort.

  The tears start, and I can’t stop them. Nothing in particular is wrong, but I’m so overwhelmed and held it all in for so long, the tears surge like waves crashing on the beach.

  “Shhhhh.” He strokes my hair, kissing my temple. “It’s okay.”

  “I-I know. I j-just c-can’t stop.” I snort, sucking in the snot threatening to run onto my lip.

  “Just let it out. I’m here. I’m not going anywhere.”

  I’m so lucky. I’ve survived the surgery and these first few days at home all because I met, and fell for, a beautiful boy with a mischievous smile while on vacation.

  Best trip ever.

  I sob again and thank my lucky stars. The stars I wished on the night we met.

  Chapter 20

  Thea

  “All done on this one.” He holds up the measuring tube. “Forty ccs on the left.”

  He screws the cap back on to the bulb, then jots the number down in the log. Now he unscrews the cap from the drain bulb on the other side and repeats the nasty process.

  One more thing to confirm how stupid I was being, worried about him running away. He’s proving he can take the worst.

  More than Bennie, for sure. She nearly vomited the day she needed to check the drains because Shay was running late.

  She’s not some delicate flower. She played field hockey, so minor injuries don’t bother her too much, but this post-surgical stuff is nasty. The one biology class she was required to take for her exercise science degree almost made her drop the program. She was not happy about identifying the organs of a dissected pig.

  She’s great with bringing me food and popping in movies and hunkering down to keep me company. As far as bandage changes or wound checks?

  “That’s what your doctor boyfriend is for, chica.”

  Boy, does he continue to deliver with taking care of all of the icky stuff even I can’t handle, even though my own body produces the yuck.

  After the first few days, the pain hasn’t been as bad as I expected. Surgery was a full week ago, and I’ve weaned myself off of the narcotics. Now I’m on ibuprofen a few times a day.

  “You ready?”

  Time for our evening walk. I can finally move more than twenty feet at a time. The activity is good for my circulation after spending my days like a big lump in the bed.

  Also, there’s just something about a crisp fall evening snuggled in a too-big zip-up hoodie holding hands with your boyfriend while colorful leaves fall like a shower around you.

  Speaking of showers, I get to take one tonight!

  I’m so over those pre-moistened towelettes, and sitting in a shallow bath with the drains taped on isn’t comfortable. I contacted Dr. Jacoby’s office, and they told me to keep the drain sites completely covered by plastic, and to attach the drains to a lanyard so my hands are free. Low pressure on the water, but the shower here isn’t high-pressure anyway, so I’m good.

  I zip up my sweatshirt, slip on my shoes, and head out the door.

  It’s a little darker tonight, since Shay got back late.

  He stopped at his place and picked up some clothes while Bennie helped me make some room in my closet for him.

  I even cleared out a drawer in the dresser.

  I cling to his sweater-clad arm and glance up at him. The chunky gray wool and his day-old stubble make him look more like a J. Crew model than on the night we met. Now he looks like he could step straight out of the pages of their Fall/Winter catalog.

  I, on the other hand, with my hair popping out of the French braid Bennie did for me a couple days ago, look less like a hot model and more like a hot mess.

  Bless this man for not even noticing. If he did notice, he hasn’t said a thing.

  “Fred thinks I’m moving out. He’s already busy penning the perfect Craigslist ad, a cross between Sheldon on the Big Bang Theory and Schmidt from The New Girl.”

  I shrug. “It’s just a couple days worth of clothes and stuff. No big deal.”

  Totally a big deal, but I won’t tell Fred.

  “What are you doing for Christmas?” He squeezes my hand.

  “Probably the usual. Staying overnight at Daddy’s and waking up with the kids, watching their excitement.”

  “Do you think maybe they could do without you this year?”

  “Hmmmm. What would I be doing instead?”

  “Christmas in Key West is a sight to behold. I’d love to share it with you. Liam’s going to be home, too. He’s got leave, and he wants to meet you. He doesn’t believe his awkward, less attractive brother managed to nab a hottie like you.” He slin
gs his arm over my shoulder, careful not to exert too much pressure since I complained the skin across my collarbones feels tight and tingly.

  “You e-mailed a picture of us, right?”

  “Of course. He’s convinced I Photoshopped you in.”

  “Wait, so you’re the less attractive brother? Hmm. Can I see a picture of Liam? I may have picked up the wrong brother at Paddy’s last summer.” I wrap my arm around his waist, enjoying the warmth radiating from him.

  He stops walking. “What? I’m speechless. I thought what we have is so much deeper than physical.”

  “Now, of course. One hot summer night, though, all I wanted was a good-looking piece of tail. You certainly fit the bill, even though it took a few days for you to give it up. If Liam’s better looking than you, though…” I tease.

  He starts walking again, and we turn around to head back home.

  “Ha. Liam thinks he’s the better-looking twin. You’ll have to let me know if you’ve changed your mind when you meet him next month.”

  I laugh. “Are you sure you want to put me in that situation? Things might not work out well for you.”

  “Your loyalty inspires confidence, McBride.” His voice is dripping with sarcasm, since he knows I’m kidding. I’d never do any better than the one I have now. “Besides, you’re not his type. He tends to like slender blond girls. Agreeable ones. Not feisty or temperamental. A remnant from his days as captain of our high school football team. He was the stereotypical jock who dated only the cheerleaders.”

  “Hmmm, so I guess I shouldn’t hook him up with Bennie.”

  He shakes his head. “Things heading south between her and Enrique again?”

  “North one day, south for a few. Worse than a roller coaster.”

  “Sorry. Besides, she’s way too disagreeable, I mean opinionated, for Liam’s taste.” He cracks a smile and those dimples make him seem so young, even through the stubble.

  “Ha. She certainly does have an opinion or two. That’s what makes things with Enrique so weird. She doesn’t take shit from anyone but him. I guess love makes you do silly things.”