Untitled

Chapter 1
         
“Oh, oh, I gotta pee!”  It was the first thought I had when I opened my eyes. I practically flew out of bed, ran across the room, and threw the bathroom door open.  “Aah, sweet relief.”  I looked around for toilet paper and that’s when reality hit me like a ton of bricks.  Only, just before I got the chance to freak out I heard the last voice I ever wanted to hear.

“A.J., A.J.! Oh, my God where is she! Nurse! Nurse! Then the screaming faded out of the room.
When I reentered the bedroom, I found the light switch that turned on the overhead florescence lights.  I took a good long look around. I was in a hospital room.  Apparently, the bed that I’d just jumped out of wasn’t even my own bed.  The room was full of complicated looking hospital equipment.  I could make out a blood pressure machine, a heart monitor that printed out those squiggly lines, and an I.V. stand with a bag on it. There was even one of those stupid t.v.’s that they bolt to the ceiling, hanging from the wall.

I looked down and saw that I was in a hospital gown with no bra or panties on. I had one of those plastic bracelets on my wrist with my name, social security number, and my real birthday! Oh, somebody is gonna die for that. I looked at my other arm and saw there was a trickle of blood starting from it. In my mad dash to the bathroom, I must have ripped the I.V. needle out of my arm.  I hadn’t felt a thing. One of the machines was beeping like crazy and the piercing noise was starting to work on my nerves. Usually when I'm annoyed or irratated, I start to itch and my chest was getting itchy. I reached up to scratch my chest and felt a foreign object under my gown. I looked inside the front of the gown and saw disc shaped stickers with little pieces of metal attached to them. I’d pulled the wires out of the heart monitor, too. I went over to try to turn off that horrible noise and ended up pissed when I couldn’t figure out how to do it.  I was going to unplug the damn thing when the doors swung open.

I  looked up to see Tracee  my ex husband and a woman I was going to assume was my nurse, walk in. Her face was heart shaped with a dimple in her chin. She was very petite with chocolate brown hair in a cute shoulder length bob that went well with her brown eyes. She looked young to me, no older than 25.  I could see her nametag said Autumn Brees, Registered Nurse. Damn, were her parents thinking when they named her. Nurse Brees just stood there with her eyes as big as saucers with her mouth gaped open.

“Thank God you’re awake!” Tracee yelled. Then he damn near plowed down with the force of his hug.
The nurse pale and obviously shaken walked around us and turned off the beeping monitor. She walked back to the door nervously muttered, “I’ll go get the doctor,” and left quickly.

Meanwhile, Tracee still had me in a bear hug.  So as gently, as I could, trying not show too much aggression, I shoved him off of me.

“Uh, what the hell is going on here,” I said getting a little nervous. For Tracee to be present, at all, meant that something was very wrong.  Honestly, he is a good man; he has a good heart. It’s just that sometimes it’s not in the right place. He just chooses to keep it in his boxer briefs. Most people probably would have freaked out about waking up in a hospital and not having any memory of how they got there. Not me.  I freak out at the sight of my ex husband.  I guess that just means I have my priorities in order.

“My name is, Tracee James, I’m your ex-husband,” he said rather loudly. “Your name is Audrey Prescott-James. But, you prefer to be called A.J. You were in a car accident but you’re going to be o.k.

I looked at him and rolled my eyes. “I’m not deaf and I don’t have amnesia you idiot.” That made his already tense face ease up a bit. He might not be the sharpest tool in the shed but there was real concern on his face.
I stepped back when I realized how close we were. I hadn’t notice how chilly the room was until I couldn’t feel the warmth of his body against mine anymore. With me standing on the cold hard floor, in this paper-thin hospital gown, I suddenly felt really naked and very vulnerable standing next to Tracee. As if he could read my mind, he lowered his eyes and stared at my hardening nipples.

“Let me help you back to bed,” he offered before I could blow up at him. He reached for my hand to lead me back to bed.  But, I pulled back my arm before he could lay a single finger on me. I grabbed the back of my gown before I walked around him to pull the sheets back. After I was situated in bed, he pulled the covers over me. Then he leaned over grabbed the remote off the stand it was sitting on and adjusted the bed so that it was in a comfortable reclining position. After I settled back, I reluctantly thanked him.

“My pleasure,” he responded with a devilish grin and a sparkle in his eye. Clearly, he could tell my body was responding to his even if I was lying to myself.  I hated my body for being weak.  His utter sexiness did not help me either. He was every inch of 6’0 with just enough fat on his body to make him seem like a real man and not like some airbrushed, malnutritioned, stick figure from a magazine. Tracee’s skin was the color of dark amber and just as smooth.  He had a slightly crooked front tooth that made his smile more genuine. His brown eyes could go from innocent ignorance to sensually seductive in a heartbeat. His chest was muscular broad and chiseled out of granite.  He could build a house with the brick muscles in his stomach and his ass was tight enough to bounce a quarter off it. I definitely missed trying to do that.

“Why are you here,” I heard myself ask.

“I’m still down as your next of kin,” he shrugged.

“That’s not what I meant.” I was going to ask him the time and day when the doctor entered.

“Ah, Mrs. James, I see you are a wake. I’m Dr. Wells. You know as in, ‘get wells soon’. It’s just my little joke. So, tell me how are you feeling?”  He walked over to the little sink that was across the bed and washed his hands.  Then he turned around and sat in the stool that was next to the edge of the bed.

“Actually it’s Ms. Prescott,” I corrected him as I glared at Tracee. While our decision to divorce had been mutual and as amicable as a divorce could be I got the feeling, he choose not to updated the hospital of our new relationship status.

“What,” he whined uncomfortably, “they weren’t going to let me stay.” The guilt was readable all over his face.

Dr. Wells frowned at him over his glasses. “Our sincerest apologies, Ms. Prescott. We have strict hospital policies that we take very seriously here at Cohen General. I assure you that patient confidentiality is one of our top most priorities.”

“Dr. Wells, it’s o.k., really,” I spoke up interrupting him. I work with policies all day long the last thing I wanted to do right now is hear more. “I probably would have given him permission, anyway. Besides, he is still down as my next of kin. Isn’t that like some kind of loophole? I’m mean it’s not like I’m going to sue or anything.”

“As long as your o.k. with him being here, Ms. Prescott, we are, too.  I will be sure to update this new information on your records and have you sign off on it.

He moved from the foot of the bed where he was sitting to my left side. Tracee already occupied the seat to my right. He eased his hand beneath mine and gave it a gentle squeeze. I gave him, what I hoped was a comforting smile and turned my attention back to Dr. Wells.

He seemed to be captain of all the middle age men all around the world. I wouldn’t have been a bit surprised if he was recently divorced with a brand new 22 year old whose red lipstick matched their brand new cherry red Corvette. The comb over was barely covering his male pattern balding scalp. His mousey brown hair was graying around the edges reminding me of how old cheese molds. I couldn’t judge his height sitting down but he was definitely not taller than Tracee. His light green eyes held an intelligence that only an established doctor, with years of experience and faith in his skills could have.

He took out his pen light and shined them in my eyes. “Do you have any headaches, nausea stiffness in your neck, back, or spots in your vision,” he monotoned.

“No, sir, I feel fine.” I stated.

Dr. Wells leaned over my head and grabbed a blood pressure cuff that was on a shelf, over the bed.  I guess I must have missed it earlier. He applied the cuff and once the air started building he took out a thermometer and took my temperature. He wrote down his findings, which were normal and had me sit straight up. He took out his stethoscope, placed it on my back, and asked me to inhale and exhale. Then he repositioned the stethoscope over my chest and repeated the process. Finally, he took out a rubber hammer, had me swing my legs over the bed, and gave both my knees a good whack which both responded to by doing a little kick. 

“You can lie back down, Ms. Prescott.” I scooted back to the center of the bed and I replaced the covers back over my legs. “Do you remember how you came to be in the hospital, Ms. Prescott?”

“Tracee said I had some kind of accident?”

“Accident my ass,” Tracee interjected, “you totaled that car !”

“Mr. James, I’d like to hear Ms. Prescott’s answers if you don’t mind.” Dr. Wells said more patiently than I would have been. “Do you remember what events took place to lead you to the hospital?”

I tried to think back to the accident and drew a blank. I, also tried remembering the last thing that happened before I woke up in the hospital, which was leaving work on Friday. I told them as much.

“Should I be worried that I can’t recall what happened,” I was kind of concerned. My memory is usually better than an elephant’s. Maybe I had brain damage or something. It didn’t seem normal to lose so much of my memory like this.

“No, the mind has ways of protecting itself against traumatic experiences. Memory loss of events before and after an accident is normal in severe cases like this. It could comeback in bits and pieces or all at once. On the other hand, it’s possible for your memory not to come back at all.  Only time will tell. Tell me Ms. Prescott do you happen to know the date?” He motioned for Tracee to keep quiet.

“I don’t know the time, or how long I was out, but it’s either late Friday  or real early Saturday morning.” I started feeling real confident about my answer.  There is nothing I love more than knowing the correct answers to questions. As if life was like one big pop quiz and I’m always getting all A’s.

Tracee gasped. I turned to stare at him but he wouldn’t meet my gaze. He tried to cover his gasp by clearing his throat.

“Actually Ms. Prescott it’s Wednesday,” Dr. Wells replied correcting me.

“Uh, I’ve been out for almost 5 days?” I said as I turned around to stare at Dr. Wells.

“No, ma’am. You’ve been out 19 days, almost three weeks.

“Three weeks?” I parroted. With that, news I got all dizzy and light headed.

“Relax, your fine now, lie back,” Dr. Wells suggested. He poured me a cup of ice water from one of those styrofoam pitchers they leave next to your bed. I wonder how they manage to keep those pitchers cold all day long. They must refill them like a thousand times a day. I drank it all down.

“More.” I demanded when I realized how dry my throat actually was.

“See your feeling better already. When you came in you were unconscious. We tried rousing you but you were unresponsive. Frankly, we were baffled. You didn’t have a single scratch on you. What’s even more peculiar is you simply woke up out of the blue, randomly. Sometimes comatose patients will respond upon hearing a loved one’s voice. Your ex husband wasn’t even in the room, he stepped out for coffee. Tell me do you remember hearing any voices before you woke up or anything.

A face popped into my head. It seemed familiar, like it was someone I should know and their name was on the tip of my tongue. It only lasted a fleeting moment and then the face was gone. If anyone asked, I wouldn’t be able to describe the face anyway. So, I dismissed it.

“All I remember is needing to go pee real bad.” They laughed. I didn’t know if it was from the situation or the vulgar way I stated it. He pressed on.

“Consider yourself lucky Ms. Prescott most comatose victims never wake up. On that note Nurse Brees, who is fresh out of school, looked like she saw a ghost when she came out of your room. She’s never seen anyone come out of a coma before. I’ll schedule you for an MRI and a few other tests in the morning. If those come back o.k. I see no reason to keep you here. To quell your curiosity its 5:15 am. Breakfast is at eight. Try to get some rest.” Then he left the room.

I turned to Tracee stunned. “Medical miracle, huh?”

“I always knew you were no ordinary woman,” he said with a wink.
Rolling my eyes, I ignored him, and tried changing the subject. “How long have you been here?”

“As soon as I got the call I came right over. I called your mom and Janie. I knew they’d want to know. Then Janie and I rotated shifts so somebody would be with you most of the time. Of course, I couldn’t keep asking her to stay because of her children. A woman with kids should be at home with them, you know. I put Sebastian in charge of the company for a while and pretty much camped out here. He said all that with his head down while he sipped his coffee. His modesty was driving me crazy. He couldn’t even look me in the eyes. It was so cute and I hated it.

“Thank you, for being there for me.” I told him genuinely grateful that he had stayed with me and never gave up hope that I’d wake up.

“Aww shucks, It weren’t nothing ma’am.” He said in the worst southern drawl I’d ever heard and a tip from his imaginary hat. With that tension breaker, we both started laughing.

“It was the quietest I’d ever seen you.” Tracee said through his gasping breaths. 

“And I loved every minute of it.” He said sobering up. His eyes held an intensity that was almost palpable. With his emotions written all over his face like that, I had to turn away.

“Tracee,” I started not able to turn back to his face just yet, “we agreed. You know if you keep turning down the same wrong road, it doesn’t take you to a different place.”

“What does that suppose to mean?”

“It means, Tracee, that we were immature, we were stupid. You know we didn’t have any idea on how to make a marriage work and if I recall correctly, which you know I always do, you didn’t even want to try. I’m glad that you were honest with me. It’s one of the things I really love about you.”  He looked up at me the same instant I looked at him, when I caught my mistake.

“Loved, I meant to say loved. Look, let’s not go down this road again. Let’s let the past be the past and move on.

“You’re right, I’m sorry. It’s just that seeing you lying in that bed really tore me up inside. Watching you lie in bed and not being able to do a damn thing to help you. It was the worst I ever felt in my life.  It helped me put my life in perspective. I’d die if something happened to you. I love you and I know you still love me. I made a mistake when I let you go. I know that now. I’m letting you know now that I plan on winning you back. I know you don’t want to talk about this right now so get some rest. I’ll go call Janie and your mom tell them you’re awake now.”
Before I could respond, he got out his chair kissed my forehead and left the room.

I wish he would learn that women aren’t prizes. Men think ‘if I have enough money I can buy one, if I see one
better I can trade up, and when I done using this one I can throw her out and start all over again.’ Everything good in life deserves to be fought for, earned. If you can win it, it was never yours to keep. You can’t take away something that has been earned. There is pride in working hard to earn what’s yours and only arrogance in winning. We’d both be better off when he learned the difference.