A/N: We're come to the part of this story that I've been waiting to start writing since the beginning - the actual operation and the journey that comes with it. This chapter really did take two weeks to write, and I'm pretty proud of it. On another note, expect another story coming from me this Summer that incorporates how Mike and Tina got together into how Artie and Tina get back together - so look out for that.
The next morning, after talking to Artie on the phone for at least half the night, I woke up surprisingly refreshed. The sun shined though the airy, long, and opaque cranberry colored curtains, and drew shadowy patterns across my face. It was already looking to be, at the minimum, an okay day – which was reassuring considering the event to come. After a brief stretch, I looked over to Artie's nightstand, where his analog alarm clock radio sat in a ring of dust, to check the time. The night before I had set an alarm on my phone so I would arrive at the hospital promptly, just like I promised, but it had yet to sound. Without my contacts or glasses to aid my slowly degrading eyesight, I squinted at the digitally depicted numbers. My plan was to wake up at 7:00, get dressed, stop for coffee on the way to the hospital, and have enough time to spend an hour with Artie before his surgery…however, the clock read 8:18.
With a gasp, I shot up in bed like a forced back spring. After taking a second, a third, a fourth take at the clock, I jumped out of bed. Standing in the middle of our bedroom, I became confused and lost in emotion and panic. Artie would be expecting me to arrive in forty-two minutes, and I'd be lucky if I made it to kiss him good luck – or possibly goodbye. I raged though my closet and threw on a pair of black leggings and one of Artie's old and worn flannel shirts before arranging my hair into a sloppy ponytail. Jogging between the four rooms of the apartment, I gathered my belongings and took an apple from the fridge to scarf down on the way to the car. In the elevator, I checked my phone to discover that during the night, the battery died – which was the reason for my alarm malfunction. So badly I wanted to call Artie to say I'm sorry and that I love him, but with the lack of both a car-charger and time, a phone call was out of the question. With about five minutes to spare added onto the time it takes to get to Ohio State, I'd be lucky to make it in time to tell him myself.
I drove in complete silence without the radio blasting 'hits from yesterday and today' – I didn't need it, my heart was pounding loud enough in my ears to make a full symphony sound like a trio. My palms were sweaty against the wheel, and my foot heavy on the gas as I drove though Ohio. Anxiety brought out the worst of my driving. I took risks that no person in an oversized wheelchair accessible vehicle should ever attempt, and that I would never try with Artie strapped down in the back, but I didn't care. A promise is a promise, and even though I compromised that promise, I still intended on being there for him…even just for a minute.
Time wise, I was doing okay until I was about twenty miles away from the Ohio State campus, where an array of red, blue, and white lights shined back at me from my rear view mirror. As I reluctantly pulled over, I swear my heart was going to beat out of my chest and limp a bloody trail up to the hospital. I stared at the clock on my dashboard as the officer walked along the white shoulder line up to my car. A minute passed, and I could feel a small part of me dying.
"Ma'am, do you realize that you were-" started the professionally dressed officer in aviator sunglasses with a patch of hair above his upper lip, that resembled a bushy caterpillar, as he came up to my open window.
"Officer I'm so sorry," I sobbed, failing my hands around. "I-I woke up late...and…and my boyfriend, my boyfriend Artie is going to have this big and…and crazy procedure done that…that could…could kill him and…and…please don't arrest me."
"Ma'am…ma'am, calm down...this is uh… just a warning," he said before tipping his cap. "Uh…drive safely."
Another minute passed, and I pulled myself together enough to merge back onto the high way. However, once the police car was out of sight, I continued to push the speed limit for a mile or two until found myself passing a red Subaru. Inside were a woman and a young boy, around the age of eight. I thought of Artie, his accident, and the picture on newsprint of his mother's little maroon car smashed to bits and pieces that he showed me. I couldn't be that person.
"I-I'm coming, Artie…hang on," I whimpered under my breath, adjusting my speed accordingly.
Normally, if I didn't have Artie with me in the car, I'd park in a normal spot and save a handicapped spot for someone who really needed it, but every second counted. I'd move later. Not even bothering to lock the van, I bolted out of drivers seat and ran mindlessly though the parking lot until I was sloppily scribbling my name on the sign in sheet in the lobby. To save time, I took the stairs and skipped every step for three flights. Once securely on the third floor, I jogged down the hallway to find Artie's room.
I opened the door and leaped inside, letting the heavy wood and glass shut behind me. Except for a half open duffel bag, a framed picture of us, and a notebook on his bed, there wasn't a single trace of Artie. I squeezed my eyes shut before shooting them open again, but the contents of the bland hospital room on the third floor of the Ohio State University Medical Center remained the same. I took a deep breath and tried not to imagine his panic and concern – not to mention his disappointment in me. I was disappointed in me too. My promising words helped him sleep though his anxiety, but they were just lies.
Dragging my feet, I exited his assigned room, and turned left towards the elevators; opposed to turning right and taking the stairs back down to the lobby instead. Maybe I'd order myself a cup of the hospital's overly acidic coffee and read a chunk of my Dorothy Parker book. After all, my life was beginning to mock her tragic tails of fallen romance without the wit. I sighed and prepared myself for the approximately next eight hours of my life devoted to waiting and wishing for Artie's safe return back into my life.
"Did Tina ever come by, Artie?"
"N-no…no, she…she didn't."
Artie. I jumped to face the forked hallway, and ran down the left prong – the one opposite to where I came from. At the far end, were a group of twelve people dressed in various amounts of blues, greens, and whites around a stretcher-like bed. Dr. Miller, with her red hair contrasting against her purple button down, walked along side the mattress on wheels. The patient was faced away, with only fragments of think brown hair visible under a blue cap.
"Artie? Artie! Stop…please stop," I called, picking up my pace.
Thirteen heads turned to face me, but only one of them smiled. Coming up next to the stretcher, I got down on my knees by Artie's head. Remaining on his back, he pressed his right cheek against the bed to look at me. The short and blue gown that covered his body matched his eyes.
"You came…"
"Artie, I'm so sorry," I panted, cupping his cheek in my hand.
"Y-you promised…you promised you'd be here," Artie choked.
"I know, I know – but I'm here now."
Artie pulled at my arm in an attempt to bring me closer and he whispered, "what if this is our last-"
"Don't think about that," I said, tucking a misfit hair under the elastic of the cap around his skull. "Think…that…the first thing you're going to see when you wake up is me. Okay?"
He took a deep breath, "Okay, Tina."
"Okay," I smiled, bending forward to kiss him. "I love you."
"I love you too," he sniffed.
I stood up and Artie reached his hand over the side and softly held onto my fingertips. "Wait," he said. "There's a notebook on my bed…read the third page – it's for you...it's everything I can't say now."
"Okay, Art," I nodded, biting my lip.
"Good-goodbye," he said squeezing my hand.
"Good luck," I corrected
With a half smile, Artie nodded, and I touched his cheek one more time before they took him away. I watched the door shut behind the last technician and stared at the square window laced with rhombuses for a good five minutes before pulling myself away. I almost looked inside, but just in cause he was already cut open, I resisted. Instead, I wondered back around the bend to Artie's room.
The notebook, that had no relevance before, remained on his bed, with an Ohio State pen was lodged in the spiral. The cover was plain, red, and looked almost brand new. I sat down on the edge of the bed and placed the notebook in my lap before counting to the third page.
Dear Tina,
This letter is a precaution. I'm writing it in hopes that you'll come flying though the door and I'll have enough time to tell you everything I wanted to before they put me under. First and foremost, I love you. You're my best friend, and the woman I hope to spend the rest of my life with. We've been together steadily since our senior year, and you've made the last six years of my life everything that I've ever wanted. Which is why for the last year and a half, I've been hiding something from you – something oh so special. However, I've decided that you're not getting this something special until I have the physical ability to bear it, and if I die on the way to achieving this, then so be it. Either way, I'll be forever yours…
I stopped reading, but not by choice. There was still a whole other page blanketed in his penmanship. The tears in my eyes burned like acid and as they fell off my cheeks and onto the paper - the ink diffused
"Damn-it, Artie," I sniffed, wiping my eyes and closing the notebook. "You better make it through this."