14. Chapter 14
Chapter 14
Cameron
Beep. Beep. Beep.
For one perfect moment, everything feels normal. “Honey, shut off your alarm clock. I want to sleep in,” I mumble without opening my eyes. My arm reaches automatically for Melanie's side of the bed, expecting to find her warm body curled against mine. The empty space jolts me back to reality.
“Cameron?”
Mom's voice. Why is Mom in our bedroom? Then another beep penetrates the fog. What is that?
“Cameron, dear. Can you hear me?” The mechanical beeping continues its relentless rhythm.
I force my eyes open, expecting my childhood bedroom's familiar walls. Instead, harsh fluorescent light assaults my retinas. I have to blink several times to be able to see. The antiseptic smell hits my nose, making my stomach roll. I feel something in my hand. Bringing it into view, I see it's a taped needle with cords. I'm in the hospital. I sigh.
“Charlie, he's awake!” Mom's voice trembles with a mixture of relief and lingering worry.
Dad's face blocks some of the glare as he leans over me, wearing the expression we kids always called his doctor face. That careful mask of professional concern that never quite hides his parental worry. I've seen that expression too many times over the years, usually right before he tells us something we don't want to hear.
“Cameron, can you hear me, son?” He speaks with exaggerated care, like I'm seven again and just crashed my bike into Mrs. Henderson's rose bushes.
“I can hear you.” A smile breaks across his face, years of tension dropping away for just a moment.
“Can you see me alright?” And we're back to doctor mode. Same tone he used after that bike crash when he was checking for a concussion and a reason why I didn't stop before taking out her prize-winning roses.
“I can see you looking at me like I hit my head again.” The memory of that long-ago accident feels safer than thinking about why I'm really here. The events of the last few days flood my brain, overwhelming my care for anything.
He chuckles softly. “I remember that. Gave yourself a nasty concussion and stitches. You ended up having to sleep with Mom and me for three nights. Really crimped my style.” His eyes crinkle at the corners - the tell that says he's looking for a chuckle.
“Oh, hush now.” Mom smacks Dad on the shoulder, and he steps back. She swoops in, hands fluttering like nervous birds. “Oh Cameron, you gave us quite a scare.” Her fingers stroke my hair just like when I was little. “You'll be okay, your dad and brothers will see to it. Everything will be alright.” Her voice carries that edge of forced brightness she uses when she's really worried.
“Evelyn, he's alright.” Dad's tone gentles as he squeezes her shoulder. “Just passed out from dehydration and not eating. The wrestling with his brothers got things moving a bit too fast, caused a strain on his system. You've got to do better about your fluids, young man.” He gestures at the IV pole. “This is your third bag of fluids.”
“You should have broken it up.” Mom's worry makes her sharp.
“The boys are adults; they can handle their own issues.” Dad quirks an eyebrow. “Plus, dear, I'm not the one who called them over.”
“Well, they were too rough with him!” She bristles like a mother hen protecting her chick.
“Evelyn, we raised three boys. Cameron's seen his share of the emergency room. He's not seven anymore - he's an adult, and he's going to be just fine.”
“Plus, it took both of them to get me in the shower,” I add, trying to lighten Mom's mood. It backfires.
“But got you in, we did.” Colton appears in the doorway, still in scrubs, looking entirely too pleased with himself. “Chalk up another point for the older brothers.”
“What are you doing here?” Dad frowns. “I thought you were off.”
“They were short-staffed. Figured I'd cover since I was here to check on the wuss, anyway.”
Dad nods approvingly. “Okay, but get a replacement day. Your family needs to see you, too. That's an order.”
“I know, Dad. I will.” Colton turns to me with an exaggerated doctor expression. “So, how's the patient?”
“Good, awake and alert,” Dad reports clinically.
“Great, glad Mom's doing well. Now, how's Cameron?” Colton's grin would put the Cheshire Cat to shame. I snort out a laugh despite myself. Trust Colton to find humor even now. It's his superpower, making light of heavy moments.
“Colton! Your brother is hurt. This isn't time for jokes.” Mom's protective instincts flare.
“Mom, he's fine. Dehydrated and needs to eat, but he's fine.” Dad shoots her his patented look as if saying, told you so.
“Can I go?” The hospital smell is suffocating me. I hate hospitals. The number of heated conversations about me not wanting to go into the family business adds to the feeling.
“Nope, you're my prisoner.” Colton rubs his hands together gleefully.
I roll my eyes. “Seriously. Can I leave?”
“How do you feel?” His tone shifts to actual doctor mode.
“Good. Fine. I'm...” The words tumble out too fast to be convincing. “I'm alright.”
“Are you telling me or trying to convince yourself?” Colton's eyes narrow professionally.
“Telling you.”
“Yeah? Sure, it sounded like the other. Wanna explain what happened in the shower?”
“Colton,” my voice cracks. “I was thinking about Mel and what she could be going through and,” I pause for a moment, looking at each of them, “everything just got heavy, really heavy.” I decide to come completely clean. “This waiting is killing me. Nobody knows anything. I can't handle it. I feel completely useless, hopeless. The woman I love needs help and there's not jack shit I can do.” I cut myself off before I completely lose it again.
My family exchanges loaded glances before turning back with identical expressions of sympathy. My stomach drops.
“What? Did you hear something?” I look between them frantically, searching their faces for news.
“No dear, we're just as worried about Mel... and you.” Mom's voice wavers. “We just tried to keep our feelings from you. We didn't want to make it harder.”
“We understand the waiting is brutal; we love her too.” Dad says gently. “We should have talked about it. And for that, we're sorry.” He looks at Colton. “All of us. But Cameron, you have to stay strong. What good are you going to be to her if you're in the hospital when they find her?”
“I know.” I look at the stark white sheet. “I started thinking in the shower about what he could be doing to her, if he hasn't killed her already.” The words spill out before I can stop them.
“Oh honey,” Mom's eyes well up, “we've all been there, had the same thoughts. We promise we'll talk about our feelings with you. We don't know when she'll be found, so we have to support each other until then. Mel is tough, she's smart and that's what we have to cling to.”
Dad and Colton nod solemnly. The solidarity should help, but it just highlights Melanie's absence. She should be here, part of this circle. She would know exactly what to say to break the tension - probably something that would make us all laugh while rolling our eyes.
“Want something to help you sleep or something to take the edge off?” Colton's offer comes from both brother and doctor. “I can prescribe-”
“No.” I cut him off sharply. “Dad's right, I need to be clear-headed for when they find her.” The thought of me not knowing when they find her because I'm getting a drugged, cozy night's sleep makes me shudder.
“Offer stands if you change your mind. Any of us can write it.” He means well, but I can't.
“Thanks. Can I go now?” The walls feel like they're closing in.
“Once this is done.” Colton flicks the dripping bag.
“I'm not doing anything useful here.” Frustration bubbles up. “I hate hospitals. I don't know how you all work in them.” The words come out harsher than intended.
“Not all doctors work in hospitals.” Dad's well-worn argument surfaces again.
“I know. Believe me, I've been told.” I fight an eye roll. Not this discussion again. Colton dramatically sucks in a breath.
“You brought it up.” Dad's voice carries that dangerous edge. The one that reminds me he's not only my doctor, he's my dad and I better not forget it.
“Sorry, sir.” The automatic response kicks in. Dad may be gentle usually, but his military background rears its head when we boys show disrespect. Especially to Mom. We three might be younger and in better shape, but none of us have any doubt that Dad could still kick our asses.
“I'll get the discharge paperwork started.” Colton's eyes dance with mischief. “Unless we should keep him for observation, Doctor?”
I sneer, “asshole.”
“Language, we're in the hospital.” Mom's fingers snap like a rifle shot.
“Well, he seems to have quite the attitude.” Dad cocks his head, studying me. “Maybe he should stay.” His expression softens. “No more hiding in bed. We know you're hurting, but lying there won't help. AND, you'll eat what your mother cooks - you need your strength. Do you agree?”
“I'd take Dad's offer.” Colton's smile turns wicked. “The alternative is psych hold and regular shrink visits.”
“Aww, come on, I don't need to stay. Any attitude is just because I'm here.” And because every minute feels wasted when Melanie's out there somewhere.
“Right, your attitude started here. Sure!” Colton's sarcasm could strip paint. “Aren't you the same one we had to drag out of bed?” He smacks my leg.
“Boys.” Dad's warning tone hasn't changed since we were kids. Both Colton and I shut up and snap our heads in his direction. “Cameron?”
I sigh heavily. “I agree to the terms, sir.”
Colton bursts out laughing. The sound echoes off the sterile walls.
“Colton.” Same warning, different son.
“Sorry, sir. I'll get the nurse.” He sticks his tongue out as he leaves. I return the gesture because some things never change.
“My mother warned me about raising boys,” Mom mutters, “and I had to have three of them.” She sighs, following Colton out.
Dad and I share a smile. For just a moment, it feels almost normal. Then I remember that Melanie should be here rolling her eyes at our antics, telling us we never really grew up. I know the ache in my chest has nothing to do with dehydration.