Chapter 23
Twenty-Three
The struggle bus should have a loyalty rewards program.
—Nettie to Boone
Boone
“A five-and-a-half-minute mile is pretty impressive for seven months pregnant, don’t you think?”
“I think that conceit doesn’t look good on you,” I teased.
She laughed and held out her hands. “Can I drive?”
I thought about telling her no, but decided to let her seeing as she did it so rarely. Plus, I always thought she looked so damn cute driving my old truck. She had to lean way forward, practically touching the steering wheel.
She eased into the seat and sighed. “I am pooped, though. That was harder than it should’ve been.”
“That was likely easier than it should’ve been,” I pointed out. “I mean, what pregnant person do you know that can run that fast? Hell, I can vividly remember a few of our friends gaining quite a bit of weight when they had kids. You don’t look like you’ve put on any at all.”
“I’ve put on fifteen pounds,” she pointed out as she buckled her belt. “I…”
I don’t know what happened.
One second I was buckling my seat belt, and the next I wasn’t.
I woke next in the hospital unaware of how I’d gotten there.
“Mr. Windsor,” a doctor said as he noticed me awake. “How’s the pain right now?”
Pain?
“None,” I mumbled. “Why?”
He looked pleased. “You were in a car wreck. Do you remember?”
A car wreck?
“What…” Understanding hit me. “My wife!”
“Calm down, sir.” The doctor pushed me back onto the gurney. “You have a lot of damage to your right side. You can’t get up right now.”
“My wife,” I pleaded. “Is she okay?”
The doctor’s grim face told me all I needed to know.
No, she was not okay.
She wasn’t okay at all.
Two days later
It took me two full days to be able to get out of the bed and walk toward Nettie’s room.
We were on the same floor, and they had yet to listen to me and take me to see her.
Finally, I’d defied them all and walked on my own, pissing off nurses and doctors alike.
Seems when you had a broken collarbone, dislocated hip and shoulder, they wanted you to stay still.
I didn’t.
I wanted to see my wife, and if they weren’t going to take me to her, I’d get there my damn self.
“Sir!” A nurse tried to get in my way.
She’d have to get out of my way or I’d run her ass over.
“Sir!” she pleaded with me to stop.
I didn’t, pushing past her to peep into every room I passed to see if my wife was inside.
I knew she was on the same floor.
My family and friends had said that she was, but they, too, had been incredibly cryptic.
It was only when I got to the last room on the floor that I saw her.
She was sitting up in bed eating Jell-O. Her eyes were on the darkened screen of the TV.
She had no bruises. No broken bones. No nothing.
If she wasn’t hurt, why was she in here?
That’s when she turned and I saw the bruise on the side of her head.
When the truck had hit me on my side, it must’ve caused her to hit her head.
Eddy stood up from where she was sitting across the room and her eyes widened.
I pushed inside.
Nettie’s eyes came to me, and where I expected relief and excitement to come forth, nothing came but blankness.
“Boone…” Eddy started.
“Who are you?” Nettie frowned. “And why are you up? You look really hurt.”
My stomach sank.
All the way down to my toes.
“I…”
Eddy came to the entrance of the room and pushed me gently outside.
I allowed it.
“You aren’t supposed to be up,” she pointed out.
I just stared at the woman who was mine who didn’t seem to know me.
Eddy sighed. “She has a grade three concussion.”
I had enough medical knowledge in me to know that was the worst you could get.
“Her head, when it hit the side of the car, took a blow. A very bad one. She can’t remember who she is. Let alone who you are.”
I closed my eyes. “Why didn’t y’all tell me?”
“Because you took the worst of it and were confused on your own. The doctor said that to get your heart rate up would be bad, so we decided collectively not to tell you.” Eddy paused. “We were hoping that she would get herself turned around…but so far that hasn’t been the case.”
“Does she know that she’s married? That she’s pregnant?”
“She knows.” Eddy paused. “I told her about you. But the doctors don’t want to push her too far.”
I felt sick.
Literally, I was going to throw up.
I stumbled back, and Eddy caught me before I could go down on my ass.
“You shouldn’t be out of bed,” she said gently.
I closed my eyes and scanned my brain for what I should do.
“Can I go in there and see her?”
“You can.” Eddy paused. “But Boone, she doesn’t remember. She gets flustered easily, and she can’t have any movement right now. They want her still for at least another three days. If she gets riled, you’ll have to leave.”
Gut churning, I nodded.
When I walked into the room, she was finished with the Jell-O.
She had her gown up over her belly and she was placing one hand over it.
I could see the baby kicking inside of her, pressing against her hand.
“Is the baby okay?” I asked.
Nettie looked up. “They say that she’s fine. Are you the baby’s father?”
Another kick to the gut.
“The father and your husband,” I murmured quietly.
She nodded. “My sister,”—she air-quoted with her fingers—“told me. If she didn’t look exactly like me, I might not have believed her.”
I crossed to where Eddy had once been sitting, then dragged the chair across the room so that I was closer.
She watched me do it with no expression on her face.
That expressionless face turned to sympathy when I winced as I sat.
Everything, and I do mean everything, hurt.
My head. My shoulders. By legs. My toes. There wasn’t a single piece of me that hadn’t taken to pain of some sort.
“What took you so long to come see me?” she asked bluntly.
I wanted to scrub at my face.
Instead I clenched my fists on my knees and said, “I was sedated yesterday. I kept trying to get up, and they didn’t want me to move.
So they forced me to stay in bed by sedating me.
Today, I woke up, and no one would tell me anything about you.
I pretended to swallow the pill that would keep me somewhat under control and spat it out the moment the nurse was out of the room.
When the nurses weren’t paying attention to me anymore, I came this way. I’m sorry I didn’t get here sooner.”
“It’s okay.” She gestured toward my arm. “What happened?”
“We were in a car wreck,” I answered. “The truck hit my side. Dislocated shoulder and hip.”
“Oh.” She pressed her hands to the side of her face. “That explains this.”
I swallowed hard.
“Are we happily married, Boone?”
I cleared my throat. “So happy it hurts.”
She smiled. “Maybe you can tell me everything.”