Longing for Spring – 25

The nurse whispered the words Matt had been longing to hear since the whole tragedy began. He was so stunned by her announcement it took him a few seconds to process her message and reply in actual words.

"My … my … CJ … she's …"

"Out of surgery."

Out of surgery? That must mean she made it, she beat the odds, in a short while he'll see her face, her smile, her beautiful eyes again. Oh, but wait, hold everything, the nurse wasn't exactly beaming or grinning with delight.

"She made it?" he asked.

She nodded, repeating the gist of her message as professionally and without emotion as she did before.

"She's out of surgery… so you can see her now."

He hurried to his feet and followed her, discreetly leaving the scene of reporters behind him.

"Does anybody else know, like my daughter?" he asked as they walked briskly towards the emergency room.

"No. Would you like us to tell her or any other family member?"

"In a few minutes. I'd like some time alone with her first."

"Okay."

They picked up the pace, walking along the corridors that led toward the ICU and eventually to another set of doors that led to an area even a frequent hospital guest like him hadn't seen before.

"This is our post-op area for patients with traumatic injuries."

"How long will my wife be in here?"

"They're working on getting her a private room as we speak."

She stopped.

"Mr. Houston, I want to prepare you for what you're about to see. Your wife may not look exactly the same as she did before the shooting."

Of course, she wouldn't. That's common sense, he thought. But did all that really matter? She would still be his CJ.

"Look, I just want to see her. I don't care what she looks like. It certainly wouldn't make me love her any less."

The stoic nurse broke into a smile at his response and pulled the curtain back.

And there she was...

With crude stitches across her forehead, thick bandages framing the sides of her skull, her closed eyes puffy with bruises, a breathing tube and other unidentifiable wires connected to her mouth, chest and arms. Her skin tone wiped clear of any color, her head completely void of hair. My God!, he thought, wondering how something that occurred in less than a second could take away a lifetime of physical beauty. In the 35 plus years he'd known her, he's seen her in a variety of situations but never the way she looked right now. It took everything he had, both emotionally and physically to keep his shock in check as he rounded her bedside.

"When … when will she wake up?"

"We're not sure. Every patient is different. What we can tell you is that if she pulls through the next 24 hours, her chances of recovery are good, although it'll take months and maybe even years of therapy to get her walking and talking again. If she does, she'll be among the less than ten percent of people with brain injuries that survive. The bullet tore through the left side of her brain, shattering her skull on that side. Any lower, the bullet would have killed her. Any further midline it would have killed her. If it crossed hemispheres it would have killed her."

With this information, Matt knew more than few prayers had been answered. And lucky she was. So lucky that from here on out he should make a conscious effort to be positive: if she defied the odds this far, and modern medicine had got her there, than with the lot of patience, tenacity and love he and their family could provide, she was going to be just fine … in time.

"I'll leave you alone with your wife, Mr. Houston," she said as she pulled the curtain closed behind her.

He moved his chair as close to her bed as possible and sat down, taking her hand in his, fighting back tears, speaking as close to her ear as he could.

"Hey there, CJ. I'm here. You're in the hospital. You were shot, but not to worry, doctors say you'll be just fine. You just keep on sleeping and getting as much rest as you need. When you wake there'll be a very special person waiting to meet you. You did real good, CJ. He's just perfect. He's got ten fingers and ten toes and the most beautiful little face you've ever seen in your life! Jolie's with him now, she's been through a lot but she's happily preoccupied with getting to know her little brother. I'm sure she won't let him out of her sight, unless Zoey snatches him from her grip in attempts to spoil him before the day's over. Johnny, Uncle Roy, Catherine, and Fred are all here. Everyone else is on their way and we're all pulling for you, CJ."

He looked at her face for some type of response but saw none. He took a break to gather his emotions by massaging and kissing her hand.

"When you're good and ready, you just wake up so we can start getting you back to your old self. You won't have to do it alone. I'll be with you every step of the way. I'll never leave you. I'm not letting you out of my sight for a second! I love you, CJ. Love you more than you can ever imagine," he said as kissed her hand again and held it a while, treasuring the simple fact that he could in fact, hold her hand.

Mr. Franklin was about to debate Matt's suggestion when something in his gut told him to forgo the delay and agree.

"Go ahead Matt."

Matt's eyes lit with excitement as he immediately analyzed his entry, grabbing a small broken tree limb to clear the shards of glass left in the window.

"I'm coming, CJ!" he cried, as Mr. Franklin gave him a boost, navigating over any broken glass that remained.

"Be careful!" his teacher called out.

He came to a stop, carefully balancing his abdomen on the door where he could see CJ crammed and resting awkwardly between the side and the roof of the car.

"Hey, CJ."

"Thank God you're here!"

He extended his arm.

"Grab hold of my hand!"

She tried but couldn't reach him. Matt realized he would need to move inside a few more inches.

"Hey, Elmer, Timmy – grab hold of my feet! I have to go in a little further!"

At first they weren't so sure but Mr. Franklin confirmed the order. "Go ahead boys."

They stood next to the car and locked their hands around Matt's ankles while Mr. Franklin braced himself against the car so that it wouldn't rock.

"C'mon, CJ," he encouraged as she inched her way toward safety ... until her dress got caught in the gear shift.

"Oh great!"

"What's wrong?" he asked.

"I tore my dress," she replied, prompting tears to roll down her face. "Now my mom will be mad and all the kids will make fun of me!"

He rolled his eyes.

"No one's gonna make fun of you, CJ. We're all just glad you're alive. We don't care what your dress looks like."

"You're just sayin' that 'cause you're my friend."

"No, I'm sayin' that because it's true. Besides, what do you want to do, huh? Spend the rest of your life in this car trying to avoid people?"

Now that he put it that way, no, it didn't make much sense.

"C'mon, CJ!"

And then another voice joined him.

"CJ! CJ! Can you come out of there? Are you hurt? Do you need some help?" an anxious Mrs. Gold asked as she peered through the cracked windshield, trying to ascertain the situation for herself.

Matt looked at her again, waiting for her response.

"What do ya say, CJ?" he said softer, extending his hand.

She swallowed and reached for his hand, this time with success.

"Pull!" Matt ordered, as he, Elmer, and Timmy combined their efforts until she could use her foot to prop against the seat and climb through the window. Mrs. Gold stepped in and took CJ's hands, embracing her as she lifted her out of the car.

"YEAH!" the other students cheered and applauded as soon as they saw her face.

"Oh, thank God!" her teacher exclaimed, as she kept her arms around her a moment. CJ gave an awkward expression, slightly stunned that she would receive such a reaction from her teacher. Would her own mother do the same?

"Are you okay, CJ?" she asked as she set her down and looked her over.

She nodded and made an apologetic face. "I'm fine. Sorry that I caused so much trouble," she said, brushing the dirt off her of her dress. "All for some dumb old caterpillar."

Mrs. Gold teared up. "CJ Parsons, you don't need to apologize! You're the farthest thing in this world from trouble!"

Mr. Franklin added, "That's right, CJ. You were very smart to hide in that car until the tornado passed. And, Mattlock," he said, placing his hand on his shoulder, "You were very brave rescuing CJ the way you did. I'm very proud of you, too."

Matt and CJ smiled.

Matt followed CJ as she was moved to a private room. He stood back a moment letting the nurses do their job of reattaching wires and fiddling with all the various machines monitoring her body. It was then he turned and saw Jolie - standing in the doorway, staring at the bed.

"Jolie!"

"They told me I could see her."

"Jolie," he said walking closer to her. "Honey, she's still unconscious."

She made a face.

"What'd they do to her?"

"She's been through the mill, that's for sure. They, uh, had to shave her head to remove the bullet and repair the damage to her skull. Look, I know she doesn't look so good right now, but what's important is that she's alive and has beaten some really tough odds to do so. It'll take some time, but she's gonna pull through!"

She inched a few steps closer to the bed with her eyes still fixed.

"I left Junior with Aunt Zoey … so, she's really going to be okay?"

He nodded. "In time. She has a long road ahead of her, lots of rehabilitation."

She stretched her neck, trying to find the mother she knew amongst the hideous condition of her face.

"She doesn't look like Mom. It is her, right?"

"Yes, it's her. I know she's doesn't look like herself, Jolie. She's been through a lot, but once she wakes up, once she begins rehabilitation, she'll be her old self."

"And when she wakes up, you'll want to help her with her rehabilitation, right?"

"Of course."

"And knowing how much you love her, you'll wanna be by her bedside night and day, 24 hours a day, 7 days a week."

"Yes …"

"In fact that you'll be so busy watching over her that you won't have much time to take care of Junior, right? And, newborn babies need a lot of care."

His eyes wrapped into a concerned and puzzled expression. "Jolie, what are you getting at?"

"You'll need someone to stay home and help take care of Junior, right? You'll be too busy. But, Mom, she wouldn't want some hired nurses or nannies take care of him, she treasures privacy when to comes to her kids - I should know. She'd want a member of the family – a close member, one that already lives at the ranch. One that would love him and take care of him almost as good as her … someone like me. So, you'd let me do it, right? I'm his big sister. I'm the best person for the job."

He studied her rant, trying to decipher its hidden meaning.

"Jolie ...honey, what's this all about?"

"Nothing, it's not about anything. I'm just merely pointing out that you can and should lean on me, Houston. I'll be the best big sister a kid could ever ask for. I'll change him and feed him, not necessarily in that order, and I'll hold him, read to him, play with him."

"Jolie, you don't have to take on that responsibility all by yourself."

"Yes, I do. I have to help. I need to help! It's my fault that's Mom's hurt. It's all my fault!"

The emotion in her last words cut through his heart like a knife.

"Jolie, I thought we've been through this. It wasn't your fault," he said softly, walking closer to her.

She backed up. "Would you stop saying that?! It was too my fault! I shouldn't have been fighting with Emily! It wasn't like it was the first time or even the second time! I'm so dense! I should have listened to you, I should have learned my lesson!" she cried.

"Or maybe I should have withdrawn you from that school last fall when all these problems began. That's what your Mom wanted to do. If you want to put blame on someone, put it on me, not on you. I should have listened to her, but I didn't. But, look blame isn't going to get either of us anywhere. Someone else is at fault, so don't ever again think for another second that this act of violence was somehow your responsibility, you understand, Jolie!" He placed his hands on her shoulders and looked directly into her eyes. "Did you ever think that maybe you were at that school to prevent an even bigger tragedy from happening? That somehow fate stepped in and put you and Emily in that office at that exact same time as that crazed shooter so that dozens of people wouldn't be going through the same thing as us … or worse?"

"But, Mom …"

"I know, honey. I'm as mad as I could possible be at this scum that shot her, but I can't concentrate on that now. I have to put all my energy into being positive – we both do. That's what she needs the most from us right now."

"But … I can't go to school again … at least not to that school! Not ever!"

So that was it. Matt pulled his distraught daughter into his chest, resting his chin on her head as he rubbed her back.

"It's okay, Jolie. You don't have to go back there."

She pulled away and looked at him, her eyes wavering between relief and terror.

"Not ever? Please say not ever, 'cause I just couldn't stand it, couldn't stand it all if you said I had to back there someday ... even ten or twenty years from now!"

He brought his hands to her face and framed them tenderly, softening his voice as he looked directly into her eyes. "Not ever, Jolie May Pentin Houston. Not ever will you have to go back to that school. I wouldn't make you do that in a million years, and you're right, I can't think of a better caretaker than you for Junior. You are the perfect person for the job and it'll make me rest easier knowing that you'll be watching him night and day. I don't know what I would have done without you in my life up to now. You're the best thing that ever happened to me. You're the bravest, smartest, most fascinating person I've ever met. The moment I first saw you I fell in love with you. And then as I got to know you, I loved you even more to the point where I couldn't imagine loving you more, but somehow through the years I have. I couldn't ask for a better daughter than you."

She smiled back at him through her tears. "Oh, Dad. I don't know what I'd do without you either!" she exclaimed as she collapsed against his chest and squeezed her arms around him.

It hurt him so to see her so distressed and hear her cries, but the fact that she called him "Dad" at this moment was music to his ears. He wanted so much to share this moment with CJ, to talk to her, to see her eyes melt into a happy-cry expression. As he glanced over at her, he prayed that day would come sooner than later. He couldn't wait until she awakened. He couldn't wait to have her back.