Dreams of Us (4 page)

My dad came in with food while Dr. Crawford was still in my room. I got embarrassed for a second when my mom asked him if he wanted a bite, but I watched with delight as he reached into the bag and popped a waffle fry into his mouth.

"Are you married, Dr. Crawford?" my mom asked while he was still chewing, obviously as charmed as I was.

"No ma'am, I'm not," he said.

But at the same time I said, "Mother!" so I barely heard his response.

"What in the world were you thinking?" I whispered to her as soon as he walked out.

My mom smiled and shrugged as she started digging in the bag for her sandwich. "He's so handsome and sweet. What's the harm in asking if he's married?"

"Because it's embarrassing. It's obvious why you're asking. You should have just looked for a ring."

"You can't depend on a doctor wearing a ring," she said. "They probably don't wear them to work since they have to scrub their hands so much."

Chapter 4

The remainder of that day passed in an absolute blur. I wasn't accustomed to taking any sort of pain medicine, and it had me in a daze.

My thoughts drifted to Dr. Crawford several times that evening. I even dreamed about him. Regardless of whether or not I thought anything would ever happen between us (which I didn't) it still felt good to be slightly smitten.

That was a small victory in itself, and I thanked God that my boy-crazy functionality seemed to be in working order. Maybe I could take my newfound skills into the world and try them out sometime. Maybe it was the concussion that did it, maybe it was prayer, or maybe it was Dr. Crawford's extreme hotness that kicked it into gear. Either way, it felt good—felt right.

They told me I'd be in the hospital for a few more days so they could monitor me and make sure my hand stayed stationary. My parents had gone to my apartment to shower and change, so I was alone when two nurses came in the following morning to do all the things nurses do.

One of them had the thermometer in my mouth and was watching the digital readout of my temperature on the monitor when she said, "Ortho will be here in a few minutes to check in on you. They might want to get more x-rays of that hand." I waited for her to take out the thermometer.

"Is it the same person every time?"

"It's usually Dr. Nelson or Dr. Crawford on Wednesdays. I'm not sure who's here."

"Dr. Crawford's following up on her case," the other nurse said. "I heard him talking to Dr. Nelson about doing a case study on her hand."

"You did?" I asked, sitting up a little straighter. "Does that mean I'll have him every time or something?"

"At least while you're here. You'll have to work out your follow-ups with their office. I'm sure you'll see Dr. Ross. He's the one who did your surgery."

I nodded nonchalantly, trying to act like I really didn't care which doctor I saw.

The nurses were in there for a few more minutes before leaving me alone again. They had helped me go to the bathroom, but I barely glanced into the mirror while I was in there. I know I looked and smelled like someone who had been in the hospital for four days, but there was really nothing I could do about it.

Just after they left, I heard a tap on my door. I looked at it, expecting someone to walk right in the way nurses and doctors did, but it stayed closed.

"Come in," I called.

Three of my friends from college walked in tentatively carrying flowers and a giant teddy bear. They all made sad faces when they saw me sitting in the bed.

"Hey!" I said, smiling.

"Hey yourself," Rebecca said. "What are you doing almost getting yourself killed?"

I giggled. "I did my best to stay on my side of the road."

Emily sat the flowers on the shelf near the window, and Lexie came over to me with the teddy bear.

"Can I set him by you?" she asked.

I nodded, and motioned for her to bring him over by my good arm.

"At least it's not your right hand," she said sitting him next to me. "His name's Alan, by the way," she added.

"The bear?" I asked.

"Yep," Rebecca said. "We named him in the car on the way over here."

I laughed. "Hello, Alan," I said, turning to greet the teddy bear.

We all sat there and stared at him for a few seconds as if waiting for his response. He said nothing.

"He's shy at first," Lexie said, leaning over to give me an awkward hug that ended up being more of a pat since she didn't know where it was okay to touch me. I reached up to pat her back.

"I thought you'd have all of Chicago up in here with you," Emily said, looking around.

"I've had a few visitors, but my mom kicked everybody out."

"Where is Annie?" Lexie asked, using my mom's first name.

"She and Carl went to my apartment to take a much needed shower."

"Ole' Carl," Lexie said as if comforted by the thought of my father.

"They should be back in a little bit if you guys want to tell them 'hi' before she makes you leave."

They laughed.

"We can't stay," Emily said. "I have to go to work."

"Speaking of work, I got that promotion," Rebecca said, settling onto the small couch near the window.

Emily and Lexie sat next to her. It was small enough that they pretty much had to squeeze onto it.

"Congratulations!" I said. "Manager?"

"Yep," she said. She threw up some sort of gang sign with her hands. "Old Navy for life, baby," she said, making everyone laugh.

Two taps sounded on the door before it slowly opened. My friends distracted me, so I'd forgotten Dr. Crawford was coming until I saw him peering in. I watched as he inspected me and my new teddy bear before shifting his focus to my three friends who were sitting on the couch.

Emily got to her feet instantly. "Should we leave?" she asked.

He smiled and shook his head. "No, I didn't know Bailey had visitors. I can come back after I see a few other patients." He looked at me. "How are you doing this morning?"

"I'm good," I said, smiling.

"Should I request a double bed?" he asked pointing at the bear.

"Do you
have
double beds?" I asked with wide eyes.

"No," he said, smiling.

I narrowed my eyes. "You had Alan's hopes up."

He looked at my friends as if making sure they were all girls. "Who's Alan?"

Rebecca pointed back at the bed, and his gaze shifted to me again. I picked up the bear. "This is Alan," I said.

He let out a little laugh and shook his head. "You had me jealous for a second."

He was joking, of course, but the statement sent a flittery, jittery, jolt of pure pleasure washing over me. I let out a laugh and thankfully, so did my friends.

"I'll let you guys catch up, and I'll come back in a few minutes," he said.

"It's really okay," Rebecca said. "We weren't planning on staying."

"Yeah, I've got to go to work," Emily added.

"We just wanted to bring Alan and tell Bay we love her," Lexie said. "And we're glad she didn't die."

"Are you sure?" he asked. He held up my chart. "I don't mind coming back in a little while."

"No, no, no," Rebecca said. "We weren't planning on staying anyway."

Dr. Crawford stood back while the three musketeers gave me hugs and said goodbye. It was hilarious watching them try to tell me how hot he was without him noticing. They circled behind him as they walked out, and all three of them made silly wide-eyed expressions behind his back, indicating their infatuation with him. It was incredibly difficult to keep a straight face as they did so.

"They didn't have to leave," he said, once they were gone.

"It's okay," I said. "My mom would have kicked them out anyway."

"So, you're doing well?" he asked, standing near my bedside.

I nodded.

The sun was shining brightly into my room, and he was standing where his face was bathed in light. His dark hair and olive complexion against those amber eyes made him look so exotic.

"A pirate," I said, staring up at him.

He smiled at me as if wondering where in the world my off-the-wall statement had come from.

"You," I said. "You remind me of a pirate. I think it might be your eyes. Maybe they look like gold doubloons. Or maybe you just look a little too dangerous and mysterious to be a doctor."

He glanced down at my chart and then back at me with a smile. "What exactly do they have you on?" he asked.

I laughed. "I'm not tripping. This is just how I always act."

He laughed. "I've never been called a pirate before. I'm not sure how I feel about that."

"You should feel great about it," I said. "I mean it in the best way possible. You're obviously extremely handsome. My friends were making googly eyes at you behind your back when they walked out just now."

He laughed. "Well tell your friends I said thank you... I think."

We talked and laughed for a few minutes about random things before discussing my hand. I asked him questions about my recovery that I hadn't thought of the first time. It was going to be a long process, which would include physical therapy and perhaps a second surgery to remove some of the pins. He said we would just have to see how it went. He ordered an x-ray for later that day to make sure that everything was still in place. My hand would have to stay hooked up to the brace while I was in the hospital, but as long as everything was still secure when I left, I'd be sent home with nothing more than a splint and bandage, which would be exchanged in a week for a cast.

Another doctor came in that afternoon after I got finished with the x-rays. He removed the bandage from my head and inspected the wound I'd received on the left side of my forehead—a wound I didn't even know was there.

"What'd you think the bandage was for?" he asked laughing at my surprise.

"I thought I had a concussion."

"You did, but the bandage was for the wound. Your nurse has looked at it a few times."

"She took off my bandage, but I didn't know what she was doing."

"Well, compared to your hand, it's no big deal, but you have fifteen stitches that'll need to come out soon. We won't leave them in for more than a week since they're on your face."

"My face?"

"Well, part of them are up past your hairline, but some of them extend down onto your forehead."

"Why didn't you tell me this?" I asked, looking at my mom."

"I thought you knew," she said, shrugging.

"Can I see it in a mirror?" I asked.

"Sure," he said, inspecting the site thoroughly. "You can look at it all you want. We're done with this bandage."

"So, you're just leaving it open?"

"Yep," he said. "It looks great. I'll have your nurse clean it up for you, and it can stay open after that. You're on the road to recovery. We'll have you out of here in no time."

After the doctor left and my nurse had a chance to clean my wound, I went to the bathroom and had a nice long stare at my reflection. I hardly recognized myself. It wasn't because I looked all that different, it was just that I hadn't really seen myself in a few days. My long, dark blonde hair was in a low ponytail, and I had on no makeup whatsoever. There was indeed a large wound on the left side of my forehead. It seemed to me like an inch of it was in my hair, and a couple of inches extended out onto my face. It was a fresh wound with black stitches holding it together, but I hoped that once it was all healed up it wouldn't be that noticeable. I figured I could always cut bangs.

I was only in there for a few minutes, so it didn't surprise me when the nurse and orderly were still in my room when I finished. They'd just finished changing my bed linens, and the orderly was headed out with the old ones bundled in his arms. The nurse was the only one in my room with me at that point. My dad had gone home so he could get back to work, and my mom was downstairs getting a snack from the cafeteria.

"Looks good, doesn't it?" the nurse said when she saw me coming out of the bathroom.

"I guess it does," I said. "It looks bad to me considering I didn't know it was there, but I guess it's good compared to what it was."

"It's healing up nicely," she said. "You'll barely even notice it after a few months. Dr. Cramer's the best."

"I like all my doctors," I said, sitting on the edge of the bed.

"Dr. Ross is amazing, too. You've been treated by the best of the best."

"I haven't met Dr. Ross," I said.

"You'll meet him for your follow-ups, I'm sure. He's amazing. You'll probably have full function of that hand."

"That's what Dr. Crawford said. He's the only ortho I've talked to."

"Isn't he great?" she asked. "He's the real deal, too. I hope he sticks around once he's done with his residency."

"How much longer does he have?" I asked out of sheer curiosity.

"He's in his last few months, I believe. He focused on pediatrics last year, and I was down on that floor, so I worked with him all the time."

She helped me position all my tubes and wires as I settled back into my spot.

"He's wonderful with children," she continued. "He knows how to fold paper into animals—you know origami or whatever. The kids loved him. He's a total clown. He still gets requests down there from families who know he works here. He must have a patient down there now because he was at the nurse's station earlier asking us if any of us happened to know where he could get his hands on an eye patch."