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“Dr. Weaver has scheduled Dr. Livingston and Dr. Brock for this afternoon.”
“Who are they?” I sniffed.
“Dr. Livingston is the neurologist.” She hesitated. “Dr. Brock is a psychiatrist.” When I began to protest, Deb held my hand in both of hers. “No one is judging you, Avery. Your little body has been through so much. It’s really a miracle that you survived at all. Your brain had to do what it had to do to distract you while you healed. There is so much about the brain that we don’t know. It’s important that you tell them everything.”
“I just want my husband.” I pulled my hands from hers, covering my face. My chest and face hurt from the hours of tearfully mourning my daughter.
Deb only nodded, sympathy in her eyes.
“Deb,” I said, warning her with my tone. “Will you take me to see Josh?”
“I can,” she said, sad. “But it will upset you.”
“Take me,” I said. Josh would be the only thing to calm me down.
Deb brushed my greasy hair and braided it, and then she held a cup of water while I brushed my teeth.
“Here,” she said, handing me a warm washcloth. “Wash your face while I get a chair.”
I rubbed the warm terrycloth over my face, feeling it evaporate and cool while I worked it over my skin. I wasn’t going to look in the mirror. I didn’t want to.
Deb wheeled in my ride, pressing the brakes down and lifting up the foot pedals. She used her upper body strength to lift me up and pivot, and with incredible control, she lowered me back into the seat.
“All set?” She unplugged my IV and held it in one hand, gripping the handle of my chair in the other.
I nodded, feeling her push forward. When we cleared the threshold of my room and broke into the hallway, something inside me clicked into place. The feeling that something was out of place or missing was gone.
Deb passed four rooms and then paused. “Are you sure, Avery? I really think you should give yourself more time. You’re confused, and …”
“I’m sure,” I said, reaching for the doorjamb.
With some difficulty, I pulled myself through the doorway and into the room. All the wind was knocked out of me as I scanned over Josh’s body. He was on his back, hooked up to as many tubes and machines as I had been, his eyes closed, his chest moving up and down only by the ventilator.
I reached for his hand. His fingers felt foreign in mine, and the gold band I’d given him on our wedding day was missing. I held up my own hand, which was also bare. Why couldn’t I have just listened? He wanted to tell me more. That Hope … A sinking feeling overcame me. Hope had done her laundry at the house. She had wanted Josh all along. She had planted the panties. That’s what he was trying to tell me.
“I’m so sorry,” I whispered. I glanced back at Deb. “What happened?”
“You were both on your way home from work. You pulled out into the intersection in front of a semi, and your car was knocked back into Josh’s. The cars were a mangled mess.”
“No, Deb, what happened this time?”
“That is what happened this time, Avery. His partner, Quinn, said when he arrived on the scene, you were both unconscious, but your vehicles were mashed in such a way that your fingertips were touching.”
“His partner Quinn,” I said, scanning over Josh’s sleeping face. “You mean your boyfriend, Quinn?”
Deb looked down at me, amused. She pulled my braid over my shoulder. “No, honey. Ew.”
“What do you mean no? You’ve been dating Quinn for almost two years.”
Deb chuckled, but when she realized I was serious, her brows pulled together. She shook her head slowly.
“Yes,” I said, leaning forward, holding Josh’s hand tight. “Josh, wake up. You have to tell them. I’m not crazy.”
I looked up at Deb. “What happened to Penny?”
She shook her head and shrugged. “Who’s Penny?”
“Our baby. Josh’s and mine. I was thirty-one weeks pregnant, Deb.”
Deb tried to back out my wheelchair, but I gripped Josh’s blanket in my hand. She knelt down beside me. “Avery, you weren’t pregnant. You weren’t married to this guy,” she said, pointing to Josh.
“Stop it,” I said, feeling panic building.
“You two were in the same accident, and you’ve both been in comas.”
I shook my head and tucked my chin. “You’re lying.”
“Avery,” she said, touching my arm. “Why would I lie about something so hurtful? You’ve been unconscious for seven weeks.”
“Seven weeks?” I said. “I’ve been with Josh for two years. We were dating. We got engaged. I remember the wedding and the day we found out we were pregnant. It wasn’t a dream, Deb. I would know the difference between a dream and a memory. It happened.” I looked at Josh, desperate. “Please wake up. Please wake up and tell them. I’m so afraid.”
“Avery … Avery, we have to get back to your room. You need to try to eat something. You need to rest.”
I held Josh’s hand to my cheek and then closed my eyes. “Wake up, Avery. This is just a bad dream. Wake up. Wake up!” I screamed.
“Okay, honey,” Deb said, backing me away from Josh. “Visit’s over.”
I reached for him until she spun me around, and then I turned, reaching for him again.
“Josh! Josh!”
“I know you said you’d take her shift, but she hasn’t come home. Where else could she be?”
