A/N: Special thanks goes to Catsluver for sharing her medical expertise on this chapter. Her insights and suggestions made this chapter immensely better. Any inaccuracies are solely mine.
Thanks to sallyloveslinus for getting this chapter back to me in time for posting, even though she didn't have much time to work on it and it's extra long. Thanks also for catching all those little mistakes my brain refuses to see. :) Any errors are ones I put there after her beta because I'm obsessive compulsive and can't stop editing.
*WARNING* There is a sex scene in this chapter, although it's not explicit. I'm keeping it rated T.
**A/N #2** Okay. Remember when I said at the beginning that you may want to strangle certain characters? Well, in the second part of this story, you're about to find out why I said that. Just remember that no one will be all bad, and remember the categories this story was put in: hurt/comfort and ROMANCE. So even when a certain someone really ticks you off, KEEP READING.
PART 2
A RUDE AWAKENING
Chapter 13
At first, all she felt were sensations, faint and fleeting—a light stroking of her hand, a soft brushing of her hair, a pleasant rumble of velvety sound in her ear. That was all she could decipher in the dark haze that was her world.
Then, slowly, she started to become more aware. There was something not right about her breathing, something interfering with it. Sometimes she got really irritated that she didn't have control over it and fought whatever it was that was hindering her. Once, when she did that, voices penetrated the haze, but she couldn't make out what they were saying.
Time was nonexistent, but she had a growing sense that she was someone—a person—but who? She was perplexed by the question, but she couldn't hold onto the thought long enough to make anything of it and drifted back into nothingness.
Sometimes there was pain in her finger, like someone was mashing her fingernail, and sometimes she felt a roughness on her chest, like someone was using her sternum as a washboard. She didn't like it, but she couldn't get her body working to fight back. Her arms and legs felt like useless pieces of wood, like the heavy tree limbs that sometimes fell from the oak trees at her parents' farm after a particularly violent thunderstorm.
Oh, that's right. She had parents. What were their names? They were on the tip of her tongue, but she couldn't get her foggy brain to produce them. It was like that with everything, like she was on the verge of some kind of breakthrough, but then it would disappear and she would be lost in the dark again.
Another time she channeled all her hard-won energy into opening her heavy, heavy eyelids, but nothing came of it except a heap of trouble. She couldn't see anything but an intensely bright light that made her head hurt, and she decided she could live without that. To top it all off, the voices that only spoke gibberish wouldn't leave her alone. So, yeah. Opening her eyes had been a huge mistake. She vowed not to do it again, but the voices just wouldn't shut up, and the damn thing keeping her from breathing right was pissing her off. She was tempted to try to wake up just so she could find some help.
She couldn't pinpoint the exact moment that she started really being able to put thoughts together, but, slowly, she was able to assemble the fragments into some kind of order. She started to get scared. The dark abyss that had been a refuge before was becoming oppressive, and she tried to get away from it, started to seek out the voices. They were kind of comforting now, and she tried to reach them, could even make out some of what they were saying.
They called her TJ, and she guessed that must be her name. Yeah. It felt right. She was TJ. They kept telling her to wake up until it was like a broken record in her head. She tried opening her eyes again because it seemed to make the voices happy. She didn't know why it made them so happy. She thought opening her eyes was overrated, since she couldn't make heads or tails of anything. At least she was getting used to the bright light and it didn't make her head ache as much.
Gradually, she began to make out shapes, darks and grays and whites, even some color. She couldn't make out faces, but she could see the outlines of people. Some were starting to become familiar, like the one that called herself "Mama." Yeah. That made sense. Mama. That was one of her parents' names. And the other one was—she couldn't remember, and it was so frustrating!
He'd been there, too. What had he said his name was? He was her...dang it. She just couldn't get it to come to her. Wait. What went with mamas? Sometimes that helped, if she tried to think of the name of something by associating it with something else. Oh, yes. Daddies went with mamas. Daddy. That was his name.
Okay. So there was Mama and Daddy. Now, who were those other people? It seemed that remembering Mama and Daddy opened the door for recognizing others. There was Aunt Tru with her raspy smoker's voice and mischievous bright-blue eyes identical to Daddy's. Then there was TJ's friend Katrina with her rich, coffee-flavored voice and coffee-colored skin.
Some people TJ still didn't recognize, even after her vision cleared a little more and she could make out features. There was a blond girl, a pretty redhead, and a good-looking guy with short hair, but she couldn't remember their names and they weren't there as much as some of the others.
There was also a dark-haired guy with dimples named Sam. She wondered who the heck he was because he sure was there a lot.
Some of the people made her heart feel lighter, made her want to laugh (although she hadn't quite managed a laugh yet), like Jeremy. She remembered him almost as much as Mama and Daddy. He felt right, like he'd always been a part of her life, and when he was there talking to her, she tried really hard to talk back. Something kept her from it, though, something besides her addled brain—the same something that kept screwing with her breathing.
She got to where she could stay awake for longer periods of time. She wasn't sure when the realization came to her, but she was in some kind of hospital. Aunt Tru was one of her nurses. There were other people that worked in this place where TJ was, people that poked and prodded her and got in her face and asked her questions. One of them moved her arms and legs around, and TJ was relieved that her arms and legs weren't made of wood after all. She tried moving them on her own, and while she wouldn't be running a marathon anytime soon, at least she was starting to be able to shift them around.
She wasn't sure how long it took, but eventually she was able to lift her hand, and she felt around for that thing that was screwing with her breathing. It felt like it was keeping her from swallowing, and it was stealing her voice, too. She wanted desperately to be able to make sound.
Ah, yes. Right there. She felt a tube sticking out of her neck, like a plastic hose was hooked up to her. Wait. How could something be sticking out of her neck? No wonder she couldn't breathe right. It pissed her off and scared her, and she tried to yank on it, but all she managed to do with her uncoordinated hand was sort of bat at it. Even that cost her a tremendous amount of effort.
Okay. Batting at it was a really bad idea. It hurt, and, even worse, it didn't do her any good. The hose was lodged in her neck and wouldn't budge.
Suddenly, it was like she had set off World War III. There was a high-pitched, loud beeping noise, and then that Sam guy was there. He was saying something to her, but she couldn't make out what he said among all the racket. Not that she could make out half of what anyone said anyway. It was like everyone spoke a different language, except for a few words that had come back to her.
That Sam guy sure did look worried. She didn't know him from Adam, but he had kind eyes that made her feel calm. She could feel him holding her hand, and it felt nice.
Then he was squeezed out of the way and her Aunt Tru was there. TJ felt relieved. Aunt Tru would fix whatever was wrong with TJ's neck. TJ wondered if Aunt Tru had gotten another job in a regular hospital because she used to work in an old folks home. Aunt Tru was barking orders at another nurse that TJ didn't recognize, and then TJ felt a pressure on her neck in the place where the hole was. What was Aunt Tru doing?
TJ was flooded with fury when she realized her aunt wasn't taking the hose out. She was fiddling with it, like she was fixing it or something. TJ fought with all her might, trying to push Aunt Tru out of the way, but she had no strength. It was like she was a butterfly battling a gorilla.
Suddenly, Mama appeared on the other side from Aunt Tru. TJ moved her lips and said, "Mama, help me." She wondered if she mouthed it right because Mama frowned like she didn't understand. TJ pressed her lips together and then tried to lick them, but her tongue was as dry as sandpaper. There didn't seem to be a drop of moisture in her mouth. Still, she tried again, slower this time. "Help...me...Mama."
No sound would come out because of the damn thing in her neck. It wasn't letting any air get to her nose or mouth. She scrunched her face in frustration.
Her mom wiped something off her cheek, something wet, and there was a sympathetic, apologetic look on her face. She was saying something that TJ couldn't make out. TJ was getting more frustrated with every second. She felt like a caged animal.
Her mom kept crooning to TJ, but she wasn't doing anything to help. TJ was scared and didn't understand why no one in her family would do anything to free her. Then she felt someone take her hand. That Sam guy—whoever the hell he was—had taken Aunt Tru's place. "Shh," he said.
Well, at least she could make out what that meant. But, hello? Why was he shushing her when she couldn't talk in the first place? He said other things she felt like she was on the cusp of understanding but couldn't quite make out, and his voice was soothing. He'd been nice to her, but she was in one hell of a predicament here and was irritated that this stranger seemed right in the middle of it. Was he a doctor or something? He didn't do any of the stuff the other ones with the white coats did. In fact, he never wore a white coat and he was always sitting down, which was kind of weird and made it harder to make out his features clearly, except for his dimples. She liked dimples.
Was he some friend of her parents'? Maybe he was someone new at the church. It made her tired trying to figure it out, so she looked away and weakly pulled on her hand, trying to get free of him, but he wouldn't let go.
Jeremy was on her other side now, in place of Mama, his handsome, familiar face close to TJ's, his gray eyes filled with concern. His light-brown hair was shorter. The last time she'd seen him, it was long, and he'd sworn never to cut it short.
He put his hand on her cheek. "Hey, Pippi. It's Jeremy."
Duh. As if she wouldn't know. He was on her heart's radar at all times. He called her "Pippi" after Pippi Longstocking because of her freckles and because he knew it annoyed her.
"Sucks," she tried to shoot back, but—damn it—there was still no sound. He frowned and tilted his head, almost like her hound dog Elliott when he didn't understand something.
She tried it again, this time trying to get her mouth to form a smile. "Sucks." His last name was Suggs, so she called him "Sucks" in retaliation for the Pippi.
He looked perplexed at first but then a huge grin spread across his face and he gently tweaked her nose. "You're gonna pay for that." He looked away and spoke to someone out of TJ's line of sight. "She just called me Sucks!" He sounded way too excited about something that she'd been doing all her life.
TJ thought she could maybe see someone standing near him, maybe her mom, but she wasn't for sure. She couldn't see anything very far away. And then it clicked in her brain what had just happened. She'd understood what Jeremy said! He was laughing now, and so were other people in the room.
"TJ?" It was Aunt Tru.
Mercy. TJ was getting dizzy trying to keep up with all the people floating in and out of her vision.
"TJ, it's Aunt Tru. You've got a tube in your neck that's helping you breathe, sugar. Nod if you understand me."
TJ nodded.
Aunt Tru gave a watery smile. "That's good, baby." She squeezed TJ's hand. "That's real good. You got to leave that vent tubing alone. Okay?"
TJ scowled and shook her head minutely. "Out," she mouthed.
"No, baby. I'm sorry. We have to wean you off of it. You've had it for a long time, and we can't just yank it out. You'd have trouble breathing."
TJ stared, wondering if she'd heard right. What did Aunt Tru mean that she'd had it for a long time? What the hell happened to her? She started to feel panicked again. There were so many questions she wanted to ask. If she'd been there a long time, what about school? She was a week away from being a freshman at San Diego State. She was finally getting the hell out of Moss Fork.
Her escape was bittersweet, though, because her relationship with Jeremy had changed recently. He'd been her best friend ever since she could remember. Just her luck that he realized what he'd been missing right as they were leaving for college. It would be tough. He was going to UK, and she'd gotten a scholarship to San Diego State, but she knew they would somehow make it work. They were meant to be, like two peas in a pod since the day they were born. They even shared the same birthday, July 31st—or, at least, that's when her parents and the doctors had figured her birthday was, since she was found on her parents' doorstep and no one knew for sure when she'd been born.
Jeremy's family farm bordered hers, and their mothers were best friends. TJ and Jeremy were inseparable as small kids and up through high school, even throughout his string of girlfriends that he always asked her for advice on. She'd been secretly crushed. It seemed he would go out with every girl in Tucker County except her. He saw her as nothing more than his buddy, like a sister—or he had until a few weeks ago.
She'd never forget their first kiss—their first real kiss. Lord have mercy. The feel of Jeremy's lips on hers, his tongue inside her mouth, had caused a 4th of July fireworks display to go off in her body. And that was just the beginning.
Things progressed quickly after that, and he'd been so sweet and attentive and flirty with her. Mia Rossen, the other waitress that TJ and Jeremy worked with at Donna's, had been green with envy—the slut. She'd been trying to get into Jeremy's jeans ever since he'd started working for Donna. TJ had to admit, she was a little surprised that he'd chosen her over Mia. Mia was a cheerleader and was blond, petite, and pretty—the complete opposite of TJ in looks.
But it seemed that, after a lifetime, Jeremy had finally noticed TJ as more than a friend, and she would never forget the night they'd done way more than kissing.
They had just gotten off work from Donna's and were swimming in the pond at the farm in just their underwear. Usually, on these nights after work, they just sat on the bank, talking and kissing, but tonight was different. TJ felt indecent, knowing that her now-wet white cotton bra did nothing to hide her nipples, but Jeremy had talked her into it—with the help of some of his Uncle Wade's homemade wine. Of course, Jeremy could talk her into doing just about anything. She'd been in trouble as a kid more times than she could count because of Jeremy's bright ideas.
He ducked under the water and head-butted her stomach, and she felt self-conscious that he was seeing—or probably feeling, since it was so dark—how fat she was. Her belly fat was probably jiggling all over the place. She tried to push him away, but he grabbed her wrists and came up for air, his face nose to nose with hers. He smiled his crooked smile that melted her heart, and his long hair that scandalized both sets of their parents cascaded like a waterfall to his shoulders. He was beautiful.
"Don't push me away, Nelly," he admonished.
She felt heat rise up her neck and hoped her blush didn't show in the moonlight. He let go of her wrists and slid his hands onto her waist. She flinched, sucking in her tummy, but she knew it was futile. "Please, Jeremy. Don't."
His gray eyes held her fast. "Why?"
"Just don't. I know I'm not like the others."
He tilted his head a little. "What do you mean?"
"The other girls you've gone out with. I'm not like them. I know you could get someone much prettier than me."
He kissed her chastely on the lips. "You're pretty everywhere it counts, Nelly. Don't worry about the others. You're the one I'm with." He kissed her harder then, passionately, and it caused her blood to sing through her body.
They made their way to the bank of the pond, and he unhooked her bra. It was surprisingly easy for him—a little too easy—but she didn't want to think on that. He was with her right now, and that's all that mattered. His hands on her breasts were eager, and she tried to enjoy it, tried not to be afraid.
"Trust me, Nelly," he whispered into her ear, and then he kissed her neck. She felt a shiver down her spine. She would trust him because she loved him.
He reached over and fumbled with his jeans, which were lying near them, and then she saw him putting on a condom. Her face flamed and her heart thudded loudly in her ears.
It was over soon afterward. It had left her longing for something more, but it was a relief that it was over. The pain hadn't been as bad as she thought it would be, and now she was his, totally and completely. He had made her his, and he had been gentle.
He lay sprawled on the bank, panting a little, and she scooted over and laid her head on his chest.
She was a woman now, his woman. She was overcome, aware that something monumental had happened to her, a rite of passage. "I love you, Jeremy." Her voice broke a little on the words, and she fought tears.
He wrapped his arm around her and hugged her close.
"I don't want to leave you," she said. "It'll be so hard being so far away from you."
"I'll miss you, too, Nelly." He kissed the top of her head. "You're my best friend."
His words annoyed her a bit, but she was being silly. Lovers could be best friends. The fact that they were friends first would only make their relationship stronger. He obviously saw her as more than a friend after what they'd just shared.
"Maybe you can come to SDSU for fall break. I hope our breaks are at the same time."
He cleared his throat. "Yeah. Me, too."
"Maybe—"
"Shh, Nelly. Let's talk about the future later. Look at those stars up there. There ain't a cloud in the sky, and you can see billions of 'em."
She rose up and kissed his cheek. He still smelled a little like Donna's—like burgers and chicken-fried steak—even after their dip in the pond.
He smiled and started to sing some goofy song about katydids that he'd probably made up. She rolled her eyes and snickered, and he faltered in his singing, laughing with her. He levered himself to where he was suddenly on top of her, skin on skin, and smiled down at her, his gray eyes warm and liquid, like quicksilver. "You're a hell of a girl, TJ Nelek." Then he kissed her thoroughly one more time before he jumped up and got dressed.
She was kind of miffed at him for not calling her in the last few days—or at least it was just a few days until something had obviously happened to her and she'd woken up to this hospital nightmare. Maybe she'd been in a car wreck or something.
She knew one thing—she had to get out of this place. She had to get this fucking tube out of her neck and try to figure out how to get herself off to college. What if she'd been here so long she'd lost her scholarship? Her heart sank at the thought. What would she do? Maybe it was for the best, although the thought made her sad. She'd worked hard for that scholarship, had dreamed of living in California and going to one of the best research universities in the U.S. She was going to major in biology and be a research scientist.
It would be devastating if she lost her scholarship, but at least there was one consolation. She could go to the University of Kentucky with Jeremy. Maybe this accident or whatever was wrong with her was God's way of putting her where she belonged—with Jeremy.
Her eyelids began to feel heavy, even though she tried to fight it. She wanted to ask questions, but it was too much effort right now, what with battling the tube and the concentration it took to make out what people were saying. At least it was finally paying off and she'd understood Jeremy and Aunt Tru.
She blinked, and it took a huge effort to keep her eyes open.
Aunt Tru frowned. "TJ, can you stay awake, honey?"
TJ wanted to respond, but things were getting foggy again and she couldn't make anything work. The last thing she heard before the darkness closed in was a deep, husky voice saying, "I love you, TJ."
She hoped it was Jeremy.
XXXXXXXX
The next few times she woke up, she forgot what people told her about the ventilator and fought it until Aunt Tru or some other hospital person would threaten to sedate her. TJ was more terrified of being sedated than she was angry about the vent. It took so much energy to wake up and try to be aware of everything that was going on. The last thing she wanted was something that would push her back into oblivion.
Each time she woke up, she would glean more bits of information. She was told she'd had a major stroke—and apparently was told that again and again until it finally sank in and she remembered. She'd been in a coma, but she was improving each day. She'd be better in no time.
And then things really got weird. Her mom and dad and everyone else, even that Sam guy, kept talking about the "twins," kept telling her how she'd done so well, that they were healthy, that she and the twins would all be okay. Robby and Sami Joy, the twins.
Why did everyone think she cared about them? Did some cousin of hers have twins or something? It didn't make any sense, so she listened politely as everyone went on and on about the twins and promised to bring them to see her soon.
She didn't understand how she could have had a stroke—she was only eighteen years old—but it was hard to convey that, since no one could read her lips that well and her hands were too uncoordinated and weak to write anything. She communicated mainly by nodding or shaking her head, and it was all exhausting, enormously confusing, and exasperating.
She didn't know how long this cycle of waking up, talking, and forgetting went on, but each time she awoke, she seemed to remember a little more about her life, although that Sam guy and that business about the twins still baffled her.
The next time she woke up, the room was quiet except for the quiet rumble of a familiar voice. By now, she was used to Sam reading to her. He really did have a nice voice and he sure was good about staying with her. Maybe he was some kind of pastor in training or something for the church. Unless maybe Pastor Henry was gone and Sam had taken over.
Methodists were like that. If the church got a preacher everyone liked, it was pretty much a guarantee he'd receive orders from on high that it was time to move on. Who knew? She couldn't make heads or tails out of how much time had passed. Maybe someone told her that Pastor Henry was gone and she didn't remember.
Sam was looking down at the book he was reading, and she listened for a while. Slowly but surely, the gibberish everyone had been speaking started to sound more and more like English. She could pretty much comprehend what everyone said to her now, but she wasn't sure they knew how much she could understand. Sometimes they talked to her like she was a preschooler, which she found annoying.
She was lying on her side, pillows all around her. It seemed like she was always waking up in a different position and not knowing how she got that way. Her muscles were still weak but were getting better. At first, she was like Westley from The Princess Bride after Miracle Max brought him back to life—pretty much like a rag doll—but now she was starting to regain some control.
She blinked a few times to get Sam's face more into focus. Her vision was improving, and she was able to see farther away. For the first time, she really looked at him. He was cute. Well, actually, he was hot. He had a nice face with strong, masculine features, a square jaw, and a faint cleft in his chin. His hair was nice, too—kind of shaggy and a tad too long. Her dad would have said Sam looked like one of those damn liberals from Louisville (the only slur Vernon Nelek would ever utter about his beloved alma mater).
Maybe Sam was some kind of college intern. Maybe he was working with all those other hospital people who talked to her and asked her questions all the time. Maybe reading to her was some kind of therapy or experiment he would write a paper or an article about.
He must have sensed her eyes on him because he raised his head up to look at her and smiled when he saw that she was awake.
Mercy. He had a really nice smile, all dimples and white teeth. He was way out of her league. Not that it mattered. He looked too old for her, all manly, like he was maybe in his twenties. Besides, she had Jeremy.
"Hey, Teej." Sam's voice was like warm honey.
She didn't respond, just kept studying him and wishing she had some warm honey on a warm, homemade biscuit. When was the last time she'd eaten? The question was distressing because she couldn't remember, and she should be able to. It was such a mundane thing. Feeling a niggling feeling of panic, she went back to her assessment of Sam in order to get her mind off the disturbing thoughts.
He had broad shoulders and muscular arms, nice hands with long tapered fingers, and he was...sitting in a wheelchair? His legs weren't so muscular and his jeans were kind of loose.
Oh. He was handicapped.
Her stomach clenched and she tried not to stare at his legs or the wheelchair. God, she'd really been out of it if she hadn't noticed that before. That explained why he was the only one that didn't hover over her.
Well, that gave credence to her theory that he must be some kind of psych intern. Psychology or psychiatry would be good professions for someone who was handicapped, right? Although the pastor thing might still fit him, too. She supposed standing didn't have to be a requirement for being a good pastor. Maybe he could sit behind a desk and preach instead of a pulpit.
Her arm was resting on a pillow, and he touched her hand, rubbing circles on the back of it. It felt good, but it was a little strange. The gesture seemed too intimate if he was a psych intern or an aspiring preacher. It was kind of unprofessional and creepy.
She moved her hand as much as she could, trying to pull it away.
His brows went up and his smile widened. "That was good." He put her hand more firmly in his, obviously not realizing she'd been trying to get it away from him. "Can you squeeze my hand?"
She did, squeezing as hard as she could.
He gave a surprised laugh. "You're getting stronger."
She nodded.
"Do you know who I am?"
She nodded again.
"What's my name?"
"Sam," she mouthed.
Again, he smiled. At least there was nothing creepy about that. It was gorgeous. "Yes," he said. "Do you know where you are?"
"Hospital."
"Do you remember what we said happened to you?"
"Stroke."
He kissed her hand, which she thought was really inappropriate, but he seemed so genuinely happy that she didn't hold it against him. Maybe he was just a little overly exuberant. Besides, he obviously wasn't from around here. He had an accent—or rather he had a lack of one. He didn't really sound like he was from anywhere in particular. He must be from a big city somewhere.
Maybe he'd been working with her for a long time and she'd just had some sort of breakthrough or something. How long had they said she'd been there? She couldn't remember. A lot of things were still really fuzzy and confusing to her.
He relaxed his hand and she weakly pulled hers away from his grasp. She still didn't have very good motor control, but she reached awkwardly for the tube in her throat.
He leaned toward her and grabbed her hand. "No, no. Don't do that, Teej. It'll hurt, and it won't do you any good."
She wondered why he called her "Teej" but was more annoyed with the tube in her throat. "Out," she mouthed.
He laid her hand gently back on the pillow and left his hand on top of hers. She noticed a shiny gold wedding band on his ring finger and was reminded again of how he had kissed her hand. Weird. He shouldn't have done that if he was married.
"I know," he said with sympathy. "I know you want the tube out. Once you start staying awake more, they'll start to wean you off of it."
She frowned, wondering why they couldn't just take the damn thing out.
"You've been on the ventilator for a long time," he explained. "They can't just take it out. They have to do it gradually so your body can adjust to breathing on its own again."
Her eyelids felt heavy and she closed them, a little tired but more frustrated than anything. She wished she could talk. She could tell them all that they were wrong, that she didn't need anything to help her breathe.
"TJ?"
She opened her eyes.
He spoke with hesitation. "TJ, did you understand what I just said?"
She nodded. "Out," she said again. She knew it wouldn't do any good, but she wanted him to know what she thought of taking it slow, so she communicated it the only way she could.
He shook his head a little. "I know you want it out, but you have to be patient." He looked into her eyes intently, like he was making sure he had her attention. "You have to leave the tube alone. Okay? They'll sedate you if you don't leave it alone. Do you understand?"
She nodded.
He still held her gaze. "You don't want them to sedate you. That would set you back. You don't want that, right?"
"No," she mouthed.
He looked at her for a moment, like he was trying to decide if she really did understand, and then he gave her a sad smile. "I've missed you, TJ."
She didn't know what to think about that. Why would he miss her if he was a preacher or a psych intern? They hadn't known each other before. She'd never seen him before in her life until she woke up in this hospital. She closed her eyes, trying to shut out everything—trying to shut him out—so she could try to fit the pieces together. How long had she been out of it because of the stroke?
For the first time, it hit her that something must have been really wrong with her if she'd had a stroke as young as she was. What caused strokes? Bad cholesterol? She didn't have a heart problem, did she? She racked her brain, trying to remember what she knew about strokes. Next to nothing, that's what. Of course, her memory pretty much sucked at this point. She'd obviously forgotten a large chunk of what had happened to her.
God, what a crappy time for her world to be turned upside down, right when she'd been about to go off to college. Maybe she'd gotten really sick with some scary illness that had caused the stroke. Or maybe the stroke came on suddenly and no one had seen it coming. Maybe her secret binge eating had caused it. That would be embarrassing, if everyone knew about it. The thought mortified her.
"TJ, you still awake? You okay?"
She opened her eyes to see Sam staring at her, a look of concern on his face. She could hear one of the monitors near her bed was out of its rhythm, its usual monotonous beep too fast. Must be a heart monitor, because her heart felt like it was hammering in her chest.
"How long?" she mouthed.
His brow furrowed and he looked perplexed. "I'm sorry. I don't understand."
Have mercy, this was so frustrating! "How...long," she mouthed slowly and deliberately.
"'How long?'" he echoed with uncertainty.
She nodded.
"How long have you been here, in Kentucky?"
Well, that was a dumb question. Of course Kentucky. "Here. Hospital," she mouthed, trying to clarify.
His face fell, and she got the feeling she must have had this conversation with him or somebody else before. She was embarrassed and angry at the same time. How long was it going to take for her brain to start working right?
He cleared the disappointment from his face, his features neutral. "We brought you here right after the twins were released from the hospital in San Diego. That was two months ago."
What did the mysterious twins have to do with anything? Why did everyone keep talking about them? Why had they been in San Diego, and why should she care? Oh, well. She'd have to worry about that later. Holy cow. She'd been in the hospital for two months? Her heart did a nosedive into her stomach at the realization that she'd already missed almost half of the fall semester at San Diego State.
"TJ?"
She shifted her attention back to Sam and blinked. She was getting tired.
"Teej, do you remember about the twins, Robby and Sami Joy?"
She nodded. Lord, those were god-awful names—at least "Sami Joy" was. Some other kid had been stuck with the name Joy, just like her. She'd never do that to one of her own kids. She already knew what she'd name her kids someday—Madison or something sophisticated like that if it was a girl, and Jeremy, of course, if it was a boy.
Sam looked relieved that she knew about the twins and smiled like he was remembering something pleasant. "They are ready to meet their mommy," he said. "We've been telling them all about you."
She wondered why that was. What did she have to do with those babies, and why couldn't they be with their mother? It was all so strange.
"They're amazing," he went on. "They're two months old adjusted, which means that's how old they would be if they'd been carried to full term. So far, they don't seem to be that much developmentally delayed, even though they were born so early."
TJ tried to pay attention, but she was fading fast and finding it harder and harder to keep her eyes open, let alone try to comprehend something about somebody else's kids that had nothing to do with her.
He was rambling on about Robby's eyes and then something about the babies' feeding tubes and bottles, but she couldn't concentrate on what he was saying and didn't understand any of it, nor did she care. She drifted off to sleep, hoping Sam wouldn't be too mad at her for falling asleep in the middle of his conversation.
XXXXXXXX
"TJ?" said a raspy voice, penetrating the thick, inky darkness that TJ still found it hard to wake up from sometimes.
"Wake up, sugar." It was the raspy, smoky voice of Aunt Tru.
TJ felt hands on her, felt herself being rolled over onto her back, and then she felt pillows being adjusted around her. Aunt Tru said something to someone else in the room, maybe another nurse.
"Wake up, lazybones," Aunt Tru coaxed. "Come on, baby."
TJ swallowed and then grimaced when she felt the familiar, lumpy feeling of the annoying tube that was still in her throat. She constantly had the feeling that her throat was on the verge of swelling closed and had to remind herself that it wasn't so—or that it didn't matter, since no air got past the tube anyway. She couldn't even smell anything.
She opened her eyes and blinked, trying to get the fuzzy world around her to come into focus. When it did, Aunt Tru was leaning over her, piercing blue eyes assessing and inquisitive. Aunt Tru's hair was dyed a reddish blond, and it meshed with the swarthy, prematurely wrinkled skin of her face, making her seem almost monochromatic. Her worn appearance was due to too many years smoking and using tanning beds—and too many marriages to losers. She was in her late forties, about ten years younger than her brother Vern, but she and Vern almost looked the same age.
"Good morning, sunshine. You ready for some breakfast?" It was a rhetorical question. "Breakfast" was the liquid that was fed into TJ's feeding tube.
At least the question of when she last ate had been answered. TJ hadn't eaten real food in months. She glanced with disinterest at the bag full of brownish, thick liquid that Aunt Tru was hanging from the IV pole near TJ's bed.
"Got a big day today, sugar. Your mama and daddy and Sam are bringing the twins."
TJ raised her brows in acknowledgment. So she was going to meet the mysterious twins. Maybe she'd finally learn why everyone kept talking about them to her. It dawned on her that maybe they were Sam's kids. After all, she knew he had a wife because she'd seen his wedding ring. That would make sense. Maybe he was just proud of his twins, and since he seemed to have made friends with her family, that's why everyone talked about them so much.
Oblivious to TJ's thoughts, Aunt Tru kept talking. "And Georgia, the respiratory therapist, is gonna be here in a bit to do a spontaneous breathing trial with you this morning and start trying to wean you from the vent."
TJ raised her brows. "Finally," she mouthed.
Aunt Tru frowned, obviously not understanding. TJ waved her hand in a never-mind gesture, and Aunt Tru patted TJ's leg. "I'm sorry, honey. We'll see about getting a speaking valve for you so you can talk."
TJ had mixed feelings about that. She wondered how the heck a speaking valve would work and if it meant she was going to have the tube in her neck for a lot longer.
While TJ was being fed, Aunt Tru and the other nurse in the room, Annie, did the things that were part of TJ's morning routine—giving TJ a quick sponge bath, brushing her teeth and suctioning her mouth, putting on a fresh hospital gown, changing out the Foley bag that collected TJ's urine. She looked away, embarrassed. It had only been a few days ago that she'd noticed the bag. God. How had she not realized before that she couldn't get up and go to the bathroom?
It was like her brain could only take on a few new things a day, and anything more, her brain just shut down, refusing to comprehend or remember. She was getting better, though. Each time she woke up, she was more and more aware of what was going on around her, and she was staying awake for longer periods of time.
She was progressing physically, too, although she was still having trouble with coordination. She worked hard with her physical therapist. In fact, she wanted to work harder than he would let her. He reassured her that she was doing well and said that he thought most of her muscle weakness was due to disuse more than neurological damage from the stroke.
And now Aunt Tru had announced that TJ was doing a breathing trial today. TJ couldn't wait. She wanted to show them that she could do it, that she didn't need that damn tube in her throat to help her breathe.
Not only did she want to be able to talk again, but she wanted to be able to eat, too. She wanted to feel like a human again and not some lump of flesh being kept alive by tubes and wires.
Shortly after Aunt Tru and Annie finished with everything, a tall, striking woman with a head full of gorgeous long black curly hair came into TJ's room as Annie left.
"Hey, girl," Aunt Tru said to the new woman with a smile. Then she turned to TJ and pushed a button on TJ's bed, raising TJ to more of a sitting position. "TJ, hon, this is Georgia. She's the respiratory therapist that's gonna help wean you off that vent."
Georgia smiled kindly and moved closer to TJ's bed, putting a hand on TJ's arm. When she smiled, she had little crinkles at the corners of her eyes, but they didn't detract from her beauty. She had on red lipstick that contrasted nicely with her porcelain-like skin and black hair. "Hi, TJ. I know you don't know me, but I live just down the road in Colleyville. I grew up in Moss Fork, though, and I was a student of your mom's. Mrs. Nelek was one of the best teachers I ever had."
TJ gave her a polite smile. She wasn't surprised Georgia knew her mom. Just about everyone did.
Georgia looked TJ over, studying her. "TJ, can you lift your head off your pillow?
TJ did so without any problem.
"My goodness, girl. You are a miracle, aren't you?"
TJ frowned a little, not sure what she meant by that.
Aunt Tru smiled. "She's proof there's a God, isn't she? So far, Dr. Upton doesn't think the damage is as severe as they predicted it would be in San Diego. She's responsive and aware, although she's had some problems with memory, but that's to be expected."
Georgia clucked at Aunt Tru. "That's just wonderful."
What the hell were they talking about? Dr. Upton was one of the doctors that was always asking TJ a lot of questions. How bad was the damage from the stroke? Everyone kept telling her she would be okay, that she was doing great, but were they sugarcoating it?
Georgia turned back to TJ, smiling. "All right, girl. You ready to give this a try?"
Although TJ was still troubled, she nodded.
"Okay. I'm fixin' to reduce the amount of breaths per minute the machine is set on. It will still help you breathe, but you're also gonna be breathing on your own. Don't worry. You'll still get plenty of air from the tube. Okay?"
"Okay," TJ mouthed.
"I'm gonna watch your numbers closely, and if you're doing okay and not getting too tired, after a couple of hours, I might lower the settings on the machine again. We'll gradually decrease the number of breaths each day until you get to what we call CPAP. That's when you're breathing on your own, no machine breaths, but there's still a little pressure from the vent that helps to keep your lungs expanded and helps to overcome the resistance of the breathing tube."
"How long?" mouthed TJ.
Georgia frowned at her in consternation, a look TJ saw a lot whenever people were trying to figure out what she said. Georgia glanced to Aunt Tru for help.
"Say again, sugar," said Aunt Tru.
"How long?"
Aunt Tru looked at Georgia. "She's saying 'how long.' I think she wants to know how long the weaning will take." She turned to TJ. "Right, hon?"
TJ nodded.
Georgia patted TJ's arm. "Don't get impatient, sweetie. It'll take a couple of days to get you off the vent, and even longer to get the trach out of your neck."
That wasn't what TJ wanted to hear and she made a face.
Georgia gave a sympathetic chuckle. "I know you want it out, but Rome wasn't built in a day. You've been on the vent for..." She turned to Aunt Tru. "How long's it been, Tru?"
"Not quite six months."
TJ's eyes widened. Aunt Tru had to be wrong. Sam had said two months. Hadn't he? TJ was confused, but she didn't let on. She didn't want anything to interrupt the breathing trial. Besides, it wasn't like she could argue or ask questions, since she couldn't talk.
Georgia nodded, curls bouncing on her shoulders. "That's what I thought. If you've been on the vent for almost six months, your respiratory muscles will have atrophied. We have to retrain and strengthen them. Your PT will have you sitting in a chair and hopefully walking soon, and that will help exercise your respiratory muscles, too."
"What about a speaking valve, Georgia?" asked Aunt Tru.
"Oh, sure." Georgia looked at TJ. "If all goes well, we'll see about getting you one. That ought to make things a little more tolerable, oughtn't it?"
TJ nodded. She guessed the speaking valve would be better than nothing.
Georgia started reducing the amount of machine breaths like she said she would, and so far, so good. TJ felt a little lightheaded, but it quickly went away. After about twenty minutes, Georgia said, "You're doing real good, TJ. I'm gonna go check on some other patients, but don't worry. If anything goes wrong, the monitors and the vent will alert me. You okay with that?"
TJ nodded.
"All right. I'll check in directly to see how you're doin'."
A couple of hours passed, and Georgia was true to her word. After she was confident TJ was doing well, she lowered the breath setting on the machine again and went to check on other patients. Not long after she left, Vern, Fern, and Sam bustled into the room in a whirlwind of activity.
Vern looked a little like a pack mule. He had a large, bulging black diaper bag hanging on one shoulder and was carrying a baby carrier with a baby in it covered by a thin blue blanket. Sam wheeled himself into the room with a baby carrier on his lap that was identical to the carrier Vern held. The baby on Sam's lap was covered in a pink blanket.
TJ couldn't see the babies that well, just two little heads sticking out from the blankets, but she knew they were the mysterious twins everyone kept talking about.
Sam pushed himself up near TJ's bed and gave her a smile. "Hey."
She automatically wanted to say that hay was for horses but figured he'd have no clue what she said. The phrase was something her dad had teased her with all her life, but whole sentences, in her experience with people trying to read her lips, were never understood. Better to keep what she said to one or two words.
The baby in the carrier on Sam's lap was wiggling, and a little tiny fist waved in the air.
Vern squeezed TJ's blanketed foot in greeting, and Fern came over and kissed TJ on the forehead. "How you doing, sugar?"
Before TJ could respond, Aunt Tru, who had been in and out of TJ's room all morning, walked in, beaming at everyone. "TJ's doing great, y'all. She started the vent weaning this morning."
Everyone oohed and awed over that news like TJ had invented the wheel, and she had the urge to roll her eyes. She refrained, though, not wanting to hurt anyone's feelings. She guessed she was lucky she had so many people that cared about her, even strangers, if that Sam guy was any indication.
Aunt Tru peeked into the carrier that Vern was holding. "Oh," she crowed, sounding sort of manly with her smoky voice, "let's see these little angels."
Vern set the carrier on the floor, and Ferna Sue went over and undid the harness to get the little baby out. Judging by all the blue, it was a boy. He had on a cute baby-blue T-shirt with tiny little denim jeans and tiny, soft tennis shoes. He looked adorable and had a surprising amount of dark hair on his head.
"That's Robby," said Sam with a proud smile. "You can probably tell by all the blue."
TJ smiled back politely.
Fern looked at the bundle resting on her shoulder like she was in heaven. The baby bobbed his little head, trying with intermittent success to lift it from Fern's shoulder, and he made little tiny grunting noises. She kissed the top of his head, swaying a little in a soothing way, even though the baby wasn't fussing.
Aunt Tru put a palm on her face, looking rapt. "Oh, mercy. If he's not the cutest thing. Ever' time I see these little blessings, I'm amazed all over again."
"He's light as a feather, Tru," Fern said in wonder. "You wanna hold him?"
Aunt Tru gave her a skeptical eye. "You gonna give him up that easy?"
Fern indicated the baby carrier on Sam's lap and smiled. "Only 'cause I got another one over there."
Aunt Tru smiled and carefully took the boy, cradling him in her arms. "Hello, Robby," she cooed. "I think you look a little like your daddy. Yes, you do."
So Sam was the twins' daddy. Why else would he be here with them? TJ hoped the poor baby that Aunt Tru was holding wasn't getting a puff of smoker's breath in his face. TJ loved her aunt, but Tru's smoking habit was pretty nasty, and everything about her smelled like smoke. Of course, it wasn't like Aunt Tru was an oddity. There were lots of smokers in the regions of Kentucky where tobacco had been the primary crop for generations. Even Vern had been a smoker until TJ came along and Fern made him quit.
Sam was still smiling. "Do you mind if I set this on the bed?" he asked TJ, indicating the carrier.
TJ shook her head and shifted her legs over a little to make more room.
"Thanks." He set the carrier on the edge of the bed and deftly unharnessed the tiny girl inside it. His hands were surprisingly nimble and graceful, considering how large they were. She wondered how tall he would be if he could stand up. His shoulders and arms hinted that he was a big guy.
He lifted the baby out and settled her in the crook of one arm, looking at her like he was in love. The baby girl looked like a tiny doll, and it was kind of sweet to see how gently Sam held her. The baby was alert, her large, dark eyes open and looking at a point on her daddy's face. She had on a ruffled pink one-piece outfit that accentuated her round, diapered bottom. There were soft, satiny little pink sandals on her feet, and TJ marveled at how tiny and perfect the baby's toes were. At first glance, it seemed the little girl didn't have as much hair as her brother, but then TJ realized it appeared that way because it was lighter. She was a blond.
"This is Sami Joy," said Sam, and then he looked up and gazed at TJ with startling, intense emotion. "She's got your eyes."
His words slammed into TJ like a bolt of lightning, turning on a switch in her brain. Memories of things people told her came flying at her with frightening velocity, and she was terrified. All the pieces started coming together, all the things she'd wondered about over the past...well, who knew how long? She still didn't have a good concept of time, but it was all starting to click.
The wedding band on Sam's finger. Click.
The intimate way he'd held her hand and then kissed it. Click.
"They are ready to meet their mommy. We've been telling them all about you." Click. Click.
God, how had she not seen it? It was plain as day. She was starting to feel strange, and alarms were beeping all around her bed.
The twins being released from the hospital in San Diego. Aunt Tru talking about predictions the doctors in San Diego had made for TJ's prognosis. Click. Click.
TJ had the cold, sinking realization that she must have gone to San Diego after all. Had the twins been born there? Had she gone to school there? For how long? She had no memory of it.
And the most damning of all the evidence... "This is Sami Joy. She's got your eyes." Click, click, boom.
His name was Sam. TJ's middle name was Joy. Sami Joy. And Sami Joy had TJ's eyes.
There were frantic voices all around TJ, and Sam and the baby disappeared and were replaced by Georgia and Aunt Tru.
TJ's chest was hurting, her lungs burning. She felt like she was under water, holding her breath, and she'd been under for a long time. She could hear people shouting at her, but she couldn't understand what they said and didn't care. She caught sight of Sam again. He was near the foot of her bed, still holding the baby, fear and worry on his face.
TJ shut everything out and focused her graying vision on the tiny infant he held—and knew with painful, horrifying clarity that she was staring at her own daughter.
TBC