Authors: Patty Maximini
“I know seeing him like this is a shock, but I assure you that we’re doing everything we can to make sure he makes a full recovery and comes back to you soon,” the doctor had said, getting up from her chair and patting Emily’s shoulder. “If he has a good night tonight we’ll get him off the ventilator in the morning, so I’m really glad you’re here. You see, I believe that patients in his condition tend to improve when loved ones touch and talk to them. I don’t have a scientific explanation, but I think it makes them remember what they’re fighting for. What they are living for.”
Emily had heard the woman’s words and, with all her heart, she wanted to believe in them. She had so much to tell him; so much she regretted not telling him when she had the chance. Every bit of her longed to reach up and touch him—however, she couldn’t bring herself to do that. If this was in fact a dream, if she was still stuck in zombieland, something unimaginably bad would happen as soon as she reached for him. That was a risk she couldn’t take. The world she’d been living in, the one without any clue of his presence was unbearable. For that reason, if watching him sleep and hearing the reassuring beep of the heart monitor was all she would ever have, then she’d take it.
So she slumped in a chair next to Taylor’s bed, listening to the rhythmic beeps and whooshes as the machines kept the man she loved alive.
When the darkness of night settled in, Taylor’s family retired to a nearby hotel for the night. The serious, blond nurse was replaced by a friendly and chatty redhead.
Emily continued to beg in her mind for Lewis to come talk to her, but he was still a no-show. Lost in her confusion and grief, she did the only thing she could; rested her head back on the edge of Taylor’s bed and watched him sleep.
A long time passed and her senses became dull. The smell of the air wasn’t as strong as before, the noises of the machines weren’t as loud, and the coldness of the room became imperceptible. She knew that something was wrong. Dread was already flowing through her veins as she lifted her head from her bent arm and looked at the figure lying in the bed.
Tears spilled from her eyes as she took in the head of white fluffy hair and the big old glasses. Knowing if the tears were sad or happy was very difficult.
“Will you quit the waterworks already, child? Ever since you were a wee thing you’ve had a tear stuck to the corner of your eye. Always, right there,” Nana said, pointing her wrinkly and perfectly polished finger at Emily’s right eye. “C’mere,” the old lady urged, lifting the cotton sheet and gesturing for Emily to lie next to her.
Emily obliged and settled down next to Nana’s chubby body. Her head propped against the woman’s shoulder like she’d used to do when she was a scared kid. “Just a dream . . . ” she murmured, shaking her head back and forth.
“Of course it’s a dream. You should be thankful for that. I’m dead, and let me tell ya, Millie, dreams are much less scary than ghosts,” her grandmother teased, poking her ribs with her elbow.
“I don’t know about that, Nana. My dreams are always pretty scary.”
The old woman puffed and shook her head in disbelief. “That’s because you can’t let go of things, darling. You never could.” Her high-pitched voice and smirk were as familiar and comforting as ever. “That’s why, every time something bad happens, you insist on going back to your childhood house and to the scene of your brother’s death. That’s why, when your life was perfectly happy with that yummy boyfriend of yours you refused to move forward, always finding ways to argue with him whenever he wanted to do something nice for you, like paying the bills. That’s also why you keep dreaming of dead people and pushing away the living ones.
“Even when you dream of me, you see me sick in the hospital bed I died. Thank you so much for that, by the way . . . would it hurt you to dream me young and healthy, on a sunny beach, with a group of handsome men catering to my every need?” She looked at Emily with pursed lips and a crooked brow.
“I’ll work on that next time, Nana. Any special requests for those men?”
Nana’s smile grew wide and her eyes glimmered behind her spectacles. “Only two,” she continued numbering the requests on her fingers. “I want at least one in every ethnicity, and no more than one clothing item per man.”
“Duly noted,” Emily said, and both women cracked up with laughter.
“Good. Now back to serious business; you need to stop being such a downer, Emily, it’s not healthy. Your life has been difficult, I know. Your mother was crazy and abusive and I’m sorrier for that than you can ever realize. After all, I raised her.” The sadness in the old lady’s voice tugged at Emily’s heartstrings. Even though neither her nor Charlotte ever blamed Nana for the mess their mother was, they both knew the woman blamed herself.
Kissing the top of Emily’s head and shaking her own, Nana continued, “If that wasn’t enough, you had a numbnuts boyfriend, and two of the people you loved the most died when you were very young.
“That’s terrible, but life continued—it changed, and got better. You haven’t seen your mother in over a decade. That twit is also long gone. You have wonderful friends, and a loving family that wants to include you and you found the kind of love people envy.
“Learn to be happy, sweetheart. Lose yourself in that happiness. Forget about this dream limbo you created. Forget about Lewis and me dying, my awful child and your cheating ex, the bastard. Focus on what’s good and real. Seek others for help in difficult situations, and stop with the fear and the self-sabotage. Life doesn’t stop because you’re shitting your pants, you know? So stop being a coward. The nice doctor lady said that touching and talking to Taylor will help, so why the hell are you here, wasting time with a dead old woman, when you could be there, supporting your
living
boyfriend?”
“Because what if that’s a dream? What if I wake up and he’s gone and I’m alone?”
“Then you’re alone.” The woman’s tone was as matter-of-fact as Emily had ever seen. “You’re not the only one, the first or the last to receive a shitty hand of cards in life. I loved your granddaddy, and he died when I was younger than you. I missed him every single day for forty years and had to deal myself with an alcoholic daughter who had the crazy gene. You know what I learned? That sometimes life isn’t nice or fair. Sometimes we get burned and good people suffer hell twice over, but we can’t give up. We can never give up trying to be happy when we know we deserve it. And you do deserve it, Millie, more than most people. As for Taylor being a dream . . . you know your zombieland better than anyone, so tell me; does it feel like a dream?”
Emily was silent, lost in thought for a moment. Finally arriving at a conclusion, she replied acerbically. “Not really.”
“That’s because it’s not a dream, Einstein. That’s life. That’s also love, in all its painful, amazing, awful,
wonderful
glory. Live it. Suffer it. Enjoy it, because it doesn’t last long. Most of us get one chance to try to get things right. One chance to live and love the life we’re given. You and Taylor are a rare exception.
“He was meant to die. The doctors and nurses told you that much, but his heart is still ticking. You, my dear child, were so closed off and sad, lost in your world of pain and one day, just like that, you got a do over—a real chance to redeem the pain in your past. That’s more than any of us get to have, so please, don’t waste it. Let go of the things holding you back and be free.”
Emily wrapped her arms around her grandmother’s wide body and kissed her soft cheek. “Thank you, Nana.”
Beep . . . whoosh . . . beep . . . whoosh . . .
The characteristic hospital smell filled her nostrils once more, and the hair on her arms rose with goose bumps from the chilly air-conditioned air. The soft skin of her cheek felt the crisp fabric of the bedding and the repetitive noise warmed her insides.
Opening her eyes, she took in the room around her: the white and glassed walls, the various machines with their tubes and wires, but most importantly, her eyes sought Taylor’s face. He was there, just as he should be, peacefully resting and mending his broken body.
It’s not a dream . . . it’s a chance.
Without even thinking, her hands found his fingers. They were colder than usual, but she could feel the warmth of blood rushing through his veins. She could feel the life still pulsing in him. She didn’t have tears to cry anymore; there was no more sadness in her heart, because she knew she wasn’t dreaming. She’d spent days begging for a second chance and she’d finally been given one.
With careful movements, she brought her lips to the tips of his fingers and kissed each of them once, twice, three times, before standing up from her chair to look closely at his face. She traced a loving finger across every patch of unharmed skin on his face and followed the same path with her lips. Slowly, she ran her hand through his hair and allowed the delicious scent of his skin to fill her lungs.
Settling her body back to a sitting up position, she looked at him. Softly, she placed her hand in between his pecs then over his heart, where only a faint and rather small bruise was marking his creamy skin. Looking at his serene face she whispered, “I love you, babe”.
His heart seemed to pick up its pace, just the tiniest bit. It could have been a coincidence, but nothing would convince Emily that it wasn’t in response to her touch. She knew that, even in his drug-induced sleep, he recognized her.
Sitting on the edge of his bed, she talked to him for a long time. She told him about the awful days without him and her nightmares. She told him about her crazy meltdown in their bedroom, and how nice it was that his mother took care of her. She told him about her suspicions about Penelope and Nathan, and about making friends with his redheaded nurse. She told him about her dream of Nana and finally, she told him how ready she was to put her fears behind her for good and start their life together.
She spoke until the early rays of dawn illuminated the room and Claudia, the very pregnant doctor, returned to the room. Her tangerine dress had been changed for blue maternity scrubs and her smile was contagious as she informed Emily that Taylor’s night had been better than expected, which meant that, by the time she returned from breakfast with her family, he would be breathing on his own and all ready to wake up.
Emily had to fight the urge to throw her arms around the doctor’s neck and kiss her cheeks. Thankfully, she refrained, limiting her appreciation to a simple, yet emotion-packed “Thank you” before kissing Taylor’s nose and leaving the medical team to do their job while she walked to the cafeteria for breakfast with the family.
After so much grief, the breakfast felt like a family reunion. Emily apologized for her behavior and was overwhelmed by the love and understanding she received. The words of wisdom dream Nana imparted came back to her; the Carters’ loved her in a way her natural parents never did. At that moment, a wave of love and determination to do everything in her power to belong to them washed over her heart.
Once their breakfast was over and all the news from the night was told, Emily walked her new family to the ICU. She stopped just outside the double doors and looked at Tina and Rick’s faces. “I think you two should go stay with him for a while,” Emily said with a smile.
Everything in her wanted to pass through the doors and go be with Taylor. However, the dark circles around Tina’s eyes, and the anxiety she could see in Rick’s fidgety arms were heartbreaking. She had spent the entire night with him, now it was their turn.
The older couple exchanged glances, before returning their gazes to her. “We can take turns. One of us will go in with you now, and then we’ll switch.” Tina said, reaching to hold her hand.
Emily shook her head and smiled. “That’s okay. I really need a shower and some clean clothes. I’ll just run to the hotel for a bit, and then come back to stay with him. Now, it’s your turn.”
Tina held Emily between both her hands, in the same way she did with all her children, and kissed her cheeks. Rick thanked Emily, kissed her forehead, and in the next second husband and wife were bolting through the door.
By the time Emily returned to the ICU she was relieved to find Taylor sleeping, and his chest rising and falling steadily without the ventilator. Rick and Tina were animatedly talking to the redhaired nurse, which allowed her to have alone with Taylor. She wasn’t gone for long, but it was more than long enough for her to miss him like crazy.
Emily sat on the edge of Taylor’s bed. The sunlight coming from the window warmed her c as the feel of his skin beneath her palms warmed her heart. “Hey you,” she greeted running her fingers through his face. “I’m back now. Time to open those gorgeous eyes and look at me, babe. I miss you and I love you so much. Come back,” she whispered, leaning down to softly kiss the edge of his lips.