Waking Up to Love (2 page)

“A very long time,” Scott said. She'd slept through her birthday. She'd slept through Scott's separation and Rob's company laying off half its employees. She'd slept through some bad months.

“Scott,” Debra said. “Are you okay? You look pale.”

Scott laughed out loud. Only his mother would wake up from a coma and instantly start worrying about
his
health. “Mom. I'm fine.”

“I'm sure you are,” she said. “I hope you didn't worry about me too much.”

“No,” Scott said. “I think we worried just the right amount.” He didn't mention that “just the right amount” meant every single night for the last few months.

“We're good,” Rob added. Scott saw the fake smile plastered on his brother's face; he worried that he looked the same way. He didn't want his mom to think they were keeping things from her.

“So where are your families?” Debra asked.

Rob and Scott exchanged glances. Scott knew he was going to tell her about Nessa leaving him sooner or later, but he was definitely hoping for the later option. He certainly didn't want to drop that bomb on her just minutes after she woke up.

“Um,” Scott said. “The thing is …”

Before he could finish, Rob's seven-year-old son, Jeffrey, ran into the hospital room. He had a half-melted ice cream bar in his hand. “Grandma! Grandma!” he shouted. “Since you're awake, I got you an ice cream bar to make you feel better.” The dessert had several bite marks in it already. “I had to taste it to make sure it was okay,” he added.

Debra tried to sit up. “Honey,” she said. “I don't think I'm supposed to eat that. You finish it, okay?”

Jeffrey took another bite. “Thank you,” he mumbled through his full mouth.

“As you can see,” Rob said, “Jeffrey here has grown a whole inch since you last saw him.”

“I could tell!” Debra said. “He's almost a grown-up.”

In truth, Jeffrey was much smaller than other boys his age. Any growth for him would only serve to help him catch up to his peers. Still, he looked so proud of himself when his grandma said “grown-up.” He beamed through the ice cream stains on his face.

Scott thought that he was finally free of any Nessa questions, but his mother pressed the issue again. “And how is your lovely wife these days?” Debra asked.

Scott looked away. His marriage to Nessa Scapizi was the biggest mistake of his life. Not only did it flame out spectacularly, but he didn't even know where she was. She'd just packed her bags and left. Besides, he'd also lost his best friend. Since the proposal, Nessa's sister Ramona had been cold, distant. She probably thought it was his fault that Nessa ran away. Since the separation, Scott had only talked with Ramona a handful of times, including tonight's phone call. She seemed colder to him now, harder to talk to. He missed that connection. He missed being able to tell her anything.

Somehow, losing Ramona as a friend hurt even more than losing Nessa as a lover. He had no idea where exactly he'd taken the wrong path, but he was certainly far, far away from where his life was supposed to be.

“Nessa is fine, Mom,” Scott lied.

Both Rob and Jeffrey looked at him like he'd grown a third nostril in the middle of his forehead. He gave them each a warning look.

“That's good,” Debra said. Her voice was weaker again. “All I really care about is that my boys are happy.”

Scott put on a big fake smile. If that was all she cared about, then she was in for a world of disappointment.

• • •

Ramona ran through the hospital lobby, accidentally clipping a nurse with her elbow. She plowed into the stairwell and charged up three flights of stairs.

She knew that Debra McInney's room was somewhere on the fourth floor. She'd visited her at least once a week since the accident, but for some reason, she couldn't remember which room she was looking for. Her mind was blank.

That didn't stop her from rushing, though. It didn't stop her from running around the corner, past the information desk, and straight into an unsuspecting doctor.

“Hello?” he said as his clipboard clattered to the ground.

The man's name tag said “Dr. Ben Nguyen.” Ramona stared at his chest, re-reading his name tag several times. She had no idea what else to do.

“Can I help you?” he asked.

“Coma,” she said. “McInney. Hospital.” She couldn't make out full sentences. In fact, she could barely make out full words. When she said “hospital,” it sounded like “popsicle.”

The doctor narrowed his eyes, clearly trying to decipher what she meant.

A flush of embarrassment crept across Ramona's face.
Let's try this again,
she thought to herself. She waited for her breathing to catch up with her, she steadied herself, and she said, “I'm here to see Debra McInney. She just woke up from a coma.”

Dr. Nguyen's eyes lit up. Ramona could tell that he was more than happy to give her the good news. “She's right in there,” he said, pointing toward room 418.

Ramona paused for a moment to appreciate Dr. Nguyen's genuinely happy smile. Why couldn't she be best friends with someone like that? Maybe if she had grown up next door to him instead of someone like Scott, a nature-loving adventurer who never gave her the time of day, she'd be a happier person.

She realized that she was staring at Dr. Nguyen. He was busy picking up his fallen clipboard and reading the chart.

Farber City Memorial Hospital was the only hospital to serve their small river town, so naturally it was filled with people. The waiting rooms were packed with patients from all walks of life: businessmen, construction workers, housewives, college students. Ramona passed a waiting room that was one Indian short of a Village People concert.

She came to a door with the numbers 4-1-8 etched on a small gold plaque. This was it. Debra McInney was in here. Did Ramona really want to do this? Sure, she loved Debra like a mother, but if she pushed the door open, she'd have to see Scott, too. Was it really worth all the awkwardness?

An image flashed through her mind: She was six, and Debra McInney was putting a Flintstones bandage on her cut knee. She loved Debra so much.

Ramona pushed open the door. At first, all she saw was the small, frail woman attached to so many tubes and machines. No matter how many times she'd visited Debra, she never got used to seeing Debra look so weak. Then Ramona saw the two McInney brothers waiting by her side. Rob looked the same as always: blond, skinny, a little doofy. He had the telltale forehead crinkles of someone who had spent the last few months worrying about his sick mother, and his struggling business, and his seven-year-old son. Clearly Rob was tired all the way down to his bones, but trying not to show it.

Jeffrey sat on his father's lap. He was asleep, but judging from the ice cream smudges on his cheeks, he must've just fallen asleep. Lucky kid.

And of course, there was Scott. Normally, his face was the first thing Ramona noticed when she entered a room. His was the face she had grown up with. She could always read those expressive gray eyes, that half-smirking grin. Scott McInney was a park ranger for BLM and he looked the part, all six feet, two inches of him. His wide frame was edged with muscles, but he didn't have the body of someone who spent hours at the gym; his imposing figure came courtesy of a job that had him laying pipe, digging fences, and carrying heavy loads of dirt and rock. He looked strong, and he looked completely comfortable in his own skin.

Scott waved at Ramona, and she forgot how a simple wave from Scott McInney could make her heart shimmy in her chest.

Debra struggled to move her head to the side. Her eyes were still half shut and her mouth was scrunched up in a grimace. The instant she saw Ramona, though, her eyes lit up and the corners of her mouth curled upward. “Why, hello,” she said.

Ramona half waved awkwardly. “Hello,” she said. “You look great.” She didn't entirely mean that. Debra's color was still off and she'd lost a lot of weight during the coma. However, she was moving, and she was smiling.

“Doesn't she?” Scott said. He placed his hand on his mother's.

“So how are you feeling?” Ramona asked.

Scott answered for her. “Her vitals are up,” he said, “and the doctor is coming back to—”

“Scott!” Debra snapped. She gave him one of her patented McInney warning glances, the kind that basically said, “Don't test me!!” with two exclamation marks.

“Mom?” Scott asked.

“I can speak for myself, son,” she said. Her expression instantly softened. It reminded Ramona of the Debra she'd known before the accident, the Debra she'd known all her life. This was a woman who was never afraid to take charge. She was quick to scold, but she never did it out of anger.

“It's nice to see that you haven't changed, Mrs. McInney,” Ramona said.

“Same to you,” she said. “Now come closer so I can get a better look at my favorite daughter-in-law.”

Uh-oh.

Ramona gulped. She realized with a sudden rush of horror that Debra thought she was her twin sister Nessa.

Double uh-oh.

Ramona realized with a second gulp that Debra thought her son was still married. She exchanged glances with Scott, hoping he could see the look of icy fear etched across her face. She was close to Debra McInney, but she didn't feel right delivering such personal news to her.

Should she correct her? Should she at least say that she was Ramona and not Nessa?

Ramona knew that Scott could sense her panic, but he wasn't responding. In fact, he diverted his eyes and started staring at a poster on the wall. It showed a healthy blond family having a picnic. Since he wasn't helping her out, she only had one choice. She had to tell Debra the truth. “Actually, Mrs. McInney,” she said. “I—”

“Please call me Debra,” she corrected. “We're family, remember?”

Gulp.

All their lives, Debra McInney had looked out for Ramona and her sister. She loved them like daughters. She loved them each individually, even if she could never quite tell them apart.

“Yes,” she said. “Well, that's the thing …”

Before she could finish her sentence, Dr. Nguyen walked into the room. He was smiling again. He looked like the kind of doctor from a medication commercial, blandly handsome and pleasant.

“Oh good,” he said. “Everybody's here.”

Everybody except my MIA sister,
Ramona thought.

“Okay,” the doctor continued. “Can all the family members meet with me outside for a sec?” In response to Debra's panicked expression, he quickly added, “Nothing serious.”

No one moved.

“Family members? Please?” Dr. Nguyen said.

Scott and Rob both walked out into the hallway with the doctor. Rob carefully set his son on the empty chair, making sure not to wake him. Ramona stayed behind, staring once again at Debra. In the new silence, Debra's heart monitor sounded extremely loud.

“Well?” Debra asked.

“Yes?”

“Aren't you going to join them?” she asked. “You are part of the family now, aren't you?”

It was now two forty-five on a Tuesday morning. She was in no condition to make any major decisions right now. If she thought about it logically, she could have easily said, “Actually, I'm Ramona, not Nessa. I'll just wait here with you.” It was that simple. Of course, Ramona had just run out of her supply of logic for the week. Besides, it was two forty-five a.m. No one is logical at two forty-five a.m.

So Ramona nodded, said, “I'll be right back,” and walked out into the hallway.

“… and there's not much more we can do in the hospital,” Dr. Nguyen was telling the brothers. His smile was still there, but it was slowly fading.

“So she's going to be fine?” Scott asked.

Dr. Nguyen nodded. “There's no reason to think otherwise. However, it will be a long road to recovery, and her heart is extremely weak.”

Ramona thought back to the beeping heart monitor. It sounded so faint, so quiet.

“But I thought you put her on medications to help fix that,” Rob said.

“We did,” the doctor answered. “But it'll take some time for her heart to go back to full strength. She's out of the woods for now, but any big surprises, especially in these first weeks, could be … well, they could be deadly.”

Ramona felt herself recoil. Deadly? Any surprises?

“You mean like a divorced son?” Scott asked blankly.

Dr. Nguyen's smile had completely faded. In its place was a look both calm and professional. “Would she be shocked by the news?” he asked.

Rob and Scott nodded.

“Our mom doesn't believe in divorce,” Rob said. “Besides, the circumstances were a little messy.”

“Yeah,” Scott added. “I married the girl next door and she ran away three weeks later. No one knows where she is.” He didn't mention the fact that her identical twin sister was standing two feet away from them.

“Yes,” Dr. Nguyen said. “That's definitely a conversation that you'll want to avoid.”

Rob and Scott nodded again. Ramona waited for them to ask some follow-up questions, but neither said anything.

“So what should we do?” Ramona blurted out. After the words came out of her mouth, she realized how presumptuous it was to use the word “we.” There was no “we.” There never was a “we.”

“Well,” the doctor said, “she'll be back here in two weeks for more tests. If all her vitals are fine, you can tell her everything then.”

“Two weeks?” Rob said. “That's all?”

“Seems easy enough,” Scott said.

Rob excused himself to go back into the room and check on Debra.

Dr. Nguyen looked at Scott and Ramona, waiting for any more questions. When neither of them said anything, he told them, “I'll print out a list of instructions for her care. It won't be too difficult, mainly keeping close watch at all times and making sure she doesn't suffer any unexpected shocks. But I would like to say that she seems to be in the right hands. You all seem to genuinely care for her.”