Good Enough – Chapter 8
"Before I say anything," Groose declared assertively in response to what he perceived to be some hostility from his best friend and his best friend's wife, "I want to know why you guys don't seem too excited to see me."
"You mean, aside from the fact you have potentially grave information concerning the health of a child," Link replied in a deadpan manner.
"Uh, yeah, aside from that."
"For starters," Zelda answered, "you aren't Aryll."
"Can't argue with that," Groose replied. He may have declined Aryll's offer of food on account of his own unusual lack of hunger, but he understood Link and Zelda must have been starving.
"Furthermore," continued Zelda, her tone dry, "you cannot barge into a hospital room without warning."
"I knocked," Groose protested.
"Yeah, twice," Link interjected, "and then you just walked in. We didn't even get the chance to tell you to come in."
"What, were you guys having a moment or something?" The redhead's comment prompted Link and Zelda to exchange glances with each other before either attempted to answer.
"No," Link replied. Truthfully, they had not been 'having a moment', at least not this time. "But we could've been," he added quickly, receiving an agreeing nod from Zelda.
"Dude, it's not like I haven't walked in on you two making out before. And it's not like there's anything worse you could be doing in this room and in your condition."
Link opened his mouth to argue, but no words came out. Groose was not lying about the subject, although Link reasoned that was more due to Groose's tendency to enter private rooms unannounced than any proclivity Link and Zelda had for making out in publicly available places. He turned his eyes to Zelda, who was trying her hardest not to blush.
"That," Zelda swallowed, suppressing the embarrassment of her and Link's earlier…interruption, that had just now resurfaced, "is not the point. We could have been discussing something…private."
"You mean like…" Groose paused and thought of how to proceed, alerting Zelda that he may have misinterpreted her meaning, "married people stuff?"
"Or, hear me out, literally anything else you don't need to know about!" Link raised his voice slightly, uncomfortable with this direction of the conversation.
"Oh, my bad. Like the big 'business matter' Daphnes had to talk to you about." Groose nodded his head, finally understanding within the scope of his bachelorhood.
"Yes, Groose, something like that." Link sighed, believing he had finally put Groose back on track.
"So, what exactly did the old man have to say that's kept you talking for so long?" Groose leaned his head closer to the bed, although he stood quite a distance away from it.
"Well, I-" Link sputtered, remembering the mind-blowing information his father-in-law had shared with him previously that evening. In his exhausted and somewhat befuddled state, the latter quality he gained only through this very conversation, Link nearly blurted out the news, but Zelda's glaring cut him off.
"It is none of your business, Groose, and, even if it were, we weren't discussing it anyway." Zelda hoped her tone made clear that this was not an avenue of inquiry that would provide fruitful results.
"Okay, okay. Just seeing if I could get some info, but what Mr. Nohansen says, goes." Groose let out a light chuckle and approached the bed.
"So did you find anything out about the kid?" Link asked, suddenly recalling the issue most pressing to him since even before he reached the hospital. Part of him was annoyed by Groose's avoidance of the topic thus far, especially if he had bad news to share, but most of him just wanted to know.
"About that," Groose began. "Well, I've got good news and bad news."
"Uh, good news," Link answered quickly.
"Okay. Good news: I managed to visit the little guy to see how he was doing. His parents are with him, and the nurses said he should be fine. He was asleep when I got there."
Immediately, Link breathed a massive sigh of relief. He mentally offered up thanks to the gods for the fact that the poor boy's condition was stable. Groose's report alleviated most of Link's fear concerning the child's physical health. Even so, his high spirits did not last long with the knowledge of the type of information yet to come.
"And the bad news?" Zelda asked in Link's stead, acutely aware of what he must be thinking.
"That's the thing. He's not going home tonight. The doctors want to make sure there's nothing they've missed. I noticed some bandages on the back of his arms from where he probably got scraped up, and I think I overheard something about a sprain. His injuries are nothing major, much less than yours, but you know…" He trailed off, unsure of how to best avoid adding onto Link's guilt. He knew that any scrape, bruise, or broken bone that child suffered contributed to his best friend's mental anguish, especially so close to the accident itself. Groose could hardly believe the entire event transpired earlier that day himself, and he had been there.
"Wonderful! That's absolutely wonderful news," Zelda beamed. She found the news positively miraculous, and she too thanked the gods for their kindness. "I'm so glad to hear that boy is okay. Isn't that great Link?" Zelda practically danced over to the left side of Link's bed, where she wrapped her arms around her injured husband's neck and squeezed his head gently.
Rationally, Link knew he should agree. That rationality, however, lay buried underneath hours of exhaustion, guilt, and a second dosing of painkillers that were now starting to take effect. He hated that the kid needed to stay in the hospital and miss one of his last few days of school. He hated the knowledge of the scrapes and bruises endured because he rolled with the child on the sidewalk, because he was not fast enough. He hated the possibility of sprains or fractures, however minor, and the impact they would have on this presumably active young boy during the beginning of the summer. Deep down, he hated himself for feeling bad about what any clear-headed person would view with profound relief, but he was neither lucid nor self-aware enough and felt far too guilty in that moment to recognize that fact.
"Yeah…" Link offered a weak acknowledgement to Zelda's question. He owed her that much at least.
"Link." Zelda's call caused her husband to turn his head and lock eyes with her at once. "Please tell me you aren't still beating yourself up over this. The boy is fine. You saved his life! Your empathy is admirable, but surely you realize that you did all you could, don't you?" Concern narrowed Zelda's gaze. Link's eyes darted away from hers, confirming her worse fears. Getting Link out of his own head could prove quite difficult. Still, she failed to understand why Link took this so personally. He always strived to do his best, but he was no perfectionist. Under normal circumstances, he was content to view the proverbial glass as half full. When he failed, or believed himself to have failed, Link occasionally gave himself some grief, but usually he would accept the good with the bad and try harder next time. That said, Zelda supposed that there hopefully be no 'next time' for this little incident.
While Zelda pondered her husband's mental process, Link finally mumbled an answer to her question. As it was a mumble, however, she did not hear it clearly in the midst of her deep thought.
"What was that, honey?" Link's eyes shot back up to meet Zelda's at the sound of her question before quickly moving away again.
Link paused for a moment. He did not want to answer again. The fact that he managed to answer at all surprised him, though not as much as the answer itself. He knew this was a battle he could not win. At the end of that moment, however, he decided he did not care.
"I said it doesn't matter." The repetition of Link's response, this time loud enough for both listeners to hear, took Groose unawares and only deepened the concerned look in Zelda's face.
"Honey…" Zelda sighed, wondering why Link could not get the truth through his thick skull.
"I'm serious Zelda! It doesn't matter if I could have done better or not. That's not the point!"
"What's the point then?" Groose interjected; his voice audibly frustrated. He had witnessed enough of Link beating himself up and he was going to get to the bottom of it. "What's the big 'Link sucks' takeaway from all this?"
"The takeaway here is that, regardless of whether I could have done better or worse or whatever, what I did is what I did. And what I did wasn't good enough! That kid's now going to spend the night in a hospital room, miss his last few days of school, not be able to play with the other kids this summer. And what if the doctors are wrong? What if there's something wrong with him? Then his summer's ruined, he might have physical development issues when he gets older, what I really hurt him? Beyond that, the kid will probably be traumatized. Maybe not of strangers, but of cars and busy streets, you know, things he lives around and will live around for most of his life. He might not even want to play with the kids and all because I couldn't have done more. The point, Groose, is that I messed up. Sure, it could have been worse, but it wasn't good enough!"
Link finished his speech and began panting. He had not realized how much his impassioned explanation had taken out of him. A new wave of exhaustion, both physical and mental, washed over him. Searching for strength, he looked up at Groose, expecting some kind of sadness or shock or anger, something–anything–that could be interpreted as a victory. Instead, Groose looked upon his best friend with profound pity, and that pity disabled any ability to speak Link had left.
"Link, listen to me," Zelda's sweet voice and the withdrawing of her arms shook him from his frustrated confusion. She stood up straight and addressed him directly. "You aren't thinking straight. It does matter that you did your best. That child could be dead or permanently crippled, but he isn't, because you saved him. Yes, he has scrapes and bruises. Yes, he may suffer from a sprain or break. But he is a child. Children, especially active children, get scrapes and cuts and bruises and minor injuries all the time. An accident on the playground or a fall from a tree could have given him those and then some.
"You worry about his mental health? Let's talk about that, then. Of course, this incident will have scared him. I'd be more worried if it did not. But as I said earlier, if not for you he would not be in a position to have those problems at all. Even so, let us imagine that you were a bit slower. Say he still survived; how much worse would the actual impact of a car affect his mind? What about the knowledge that an innocent man received serious, potentially fatal injuries, because he wasn't paying attention? You can argue it was not his fault, not really, and I agree. But, if a grown man like you can be so irrational about the whole thing, then why should a child be held to higher expectations? You feel guilty? Imagine how much guilt he would feel if you died or were crippled on his account. Imagine how much guilt he might feel once he learns that you received relatively minor injuries. Of course, you wouldn't blame him. No one in their right mind would.
"Link, you know better than anyone that the world, even a child's world, is not all sunshine and rainbows. Children eventually discover that the world can often be a scary place. How much better then, that this boy learned that lesson in an event in which no one was seriously hurt? Moreover, think of what lesson he will take from your involvement. Link, you got hit by a car! And I know for a fact you would do it again. What an example you've set for him! What security he might feel to know that there are people out there, like you, who will look out for kids like him, even at a high personal cost! What a role model you are for him to emulate as he grows. Not only for him, but for all his friends. Link, I believe I understand why you feel the way you do. It's only been a few hours since the accident. You are exhausted, in pain, and trapped in a bed for the next week. Now I am sure that the constant string of developments since you arrived here have not helped much either. You need time. Time to process. Time to heal."
Link had absolutely nothing to say in response. Sometimes he hated how smart his wife was. It was as if she had seen right through him and woken him back up in the process. He felt embarrassed, ashamed of how systematically Zelda had taken him down. And yet, a pang of guilt he could not be rid of ached in his chest. Maybe Zelda really was right. Maybe he just needed some rest. But then why did he still feel so bad?
"Yeah Link. You've been through a nightmare," Groose chimed in, himself awed at Zelda's assessment to Link's earlier tirade. "No one can expect ya to be a-okay a few hours later. Just take it easy."
"Precisely," Zelda nodded in agreement, grinning with the knowledge that she and Groose had Link outnumbered and outmatched. "And you know what? No more discussion of the accident or the boy or anything like that for the rest of the night. I forbid it." Zelda crossed her arms as she made her proclamation, making sure Link understood the rules for the time being.
"I'll explain everything to Aryll when she gets back, so don't ya try to bring it up yourself," Groose warned with a laugh.
"Good idea. I shall make sure Impa does not broach the subject when she drops by. It'll hardly be much of a visit anyway, more of a popping in, really."
And, just like that, Zelda and Groose settled the conversation, at least for that evening. Despite his own conflicted feelings, Link reasoned it was probably for the best. Heck, he still had to process everything his wife had said, let alone the events of the day. Quiet fell upon the room. Groose silently took notice of the newly added bed. Link and Zelda independently decided not to tell him of the ordeal placed it in its current position. Upon recollecting those events, Link realized he needed to ask a question. Two questions actually now that he had time to really think about things, but one of them would have to wait for now. Before he could ask the first question, however, Zelda spoke instead.
"So, Groose, did you manage to see my father on his way out?"
"Yeah actually. I happened to be in the lobby. Just had to make a quick work-related call. I've gotta get some materials for a new prototype we're working on tomorrow, so I dunno if I can be here for as long as today."
"I'm glad you got to see him. Words cannot describe how thankful I am for what you have done today."
"Aw it's nothing. Nothing that Link wouldn't have done," Groose chuckled in slight embarrassment.
"Seriously dude. Thanks. Thanks for everything. Don't sweat if you can or can't be here tomorrow, or for how long. Do what you need to do." Link smiled at his friend from across the room. He supposed he had never doubted Groose's loyalty, at least not for the last few years, but the red-haired man he spent the first half of high school despising had really outdone himself today. "Oh, and Zelda," he turned his attention to his wife. "You should probably fill out that overnight form before the nurse comes back."
"Of course. Thank you for reminding me, dear," Zelda smiled and grabbed the sheet off of the trundle bed and sat down in a chair to Link's right. Setting the form against her legs, she drew a black pen from a pocket in her skirt.
Link smiled a little. Zelda dressed in a style matching elegance with practicality. In admiring her, however, he could not help but notice that her hair had begun to frizz a little, and light circles had formed under her eyes. Indeed, she too had gone through a long day. He hoped she had not worried too much about him on the taxi ride to the hospital. He hoped Impa would arrive soon to provide her with some more comfortable clothing. Most of all, he hoped that she would not find his condition too burdensome in the near future. This final hope made him especially reluctant to entertain the thought of asking his other question.
"Let's see then," Zelda remarked as she began reading over the document. "Name: Zelda Hero," she wrote down her name on the top of the form. "Relation to the patient: Wife. Date of birth, address, and phone number…" Zelda proceeded to fill out the remaining information over the course of the next few moments. "Alright. That was simple enough." As she stood up and approached the hospital bed, Zelda mused internally at how straightforward the sheet turned out to be. She could only hope the other paperwork would share that degree of simplicity. "Now dear," she placed the paper on Link's stomach, "you just sign here." She gestured to the blank line on the bottom of the page and handed him her pen.
"You got it," Link smiled and scribbled his signature down. Once the nurse retrieved the form, Zelda would officially be granted permission to stay the night. Just as his wife picked the paper and pen back up, Link finally got a good look at his left hand. Instantly, panic gripped his chest as he noticed something, or the lack of something, on his hand.
Even with her back turned to her husband as she placed the pen and paper down on the chair, Zelda could practically feel Link tense up. Immediately she swirled her body around to see what was wrong. A thousand possibilities ran through her mind. Was he in pain? Did something go wrong with the medication? Was he experiencing the effects of some yet undetected injury? She narrowed her gaze to study Link's frightened eyes. Hearing the sound of footsteps, Zelda noticed that Groose, too, had sensed Link's worry.
"What's wrong Link?" Groose asked before Zelda had the chance.
"My-my ring," Link managed to sputter out, raising his bare left hand. "What happened to my wedding ring?" Both of the room's ambulatory occupants took a moment to recognize the gravity of the question. Link's panicked mind frantically raced through the events of the day. At some point between the impact and when he fully regained his consciousness at the hospital only a few hours ago, Link had misplaced his wedding band.
Hearing her husband's distressed question brought Zelda's attention to the plain golden ring sitting comfortably on her own left ring finger. Her heart sank at the thought of Link losing his matching band. It hurt more to consider how upset Link was and would become if the ring was damaged or left unaccounted for. After taking a moment to center herself, Zelda opened her mouth to speak some semblance of something comforting, but the sound of the door opening cut her off. Her and Groose's eyes shot to the door. Flicking her gaze back to her husband for half a second, she observed Link, after a breath's hesitation, raising his eyes up to the door.
"Hey everybody!" Aryll cheerfully sang as she entered the room carrying a large takeout bag marked with the logo of Telma's Bar and Grill. "Did you miss me?" When her question was met with silence, albeit unintentional on the part of all involved, her smile faded. "Is everything alright?"
Groose turned to Zelda and gave her a look that begged her to explain all the details Aryll had missed in her hour or so out. He did not feel comfortable going over everything, especially those things he was absent for.
Zelda returned Groose's glance with a slight nod. She looked over at her husband, his mood only slightly improved by his sister's entrance, and then back at Aryll. She sighed deeply. It was just one thing after another…
A/N: Hello dear readers. I certainly hope you enjoyed Chapter 8. This one was certainly a bit heavier on the inner turmoil than the prior chapters, so hopefully that turned out well. As you might remember from a few chapters back, I went on a week-long vacation in June. I meant to complete this chapter over that week. I did not. But, after much delaying and a brief case of writer's block, the eighth chapter of "Good Enough" has been completed. No spoilers, but Day 1 of the hospital stay will be coming to an end soon, and with the dawn of a new day comes new characters and new developments. Thank you all for reading this far. We still have a long ways to go so I hope you'll stick around. Please leave your feedback if you feel so inclined and stay tuned for the next chapter!