The nurse smiled as she checked Dash’s vitals and his equipment.
“I’m signin’ off. I love, love you, and miss you.” I waved and smiled then pushed the end button on the screen and got to my feet, moving the multi-purpose rolling cart out of the way.
“I brought you a dinner tray and new bedding. They’ve explained to you how to lower the chair, right?”
“I figured it out. I slept a couple of hours this afternoon,” I said. “Thank you for bringin’ food.” My perfectly timed stomach grumbled its appreciation too.
“The staff’s been watching. They didn’t remember you eating anything today. Your father-in-law’s getting a bed sent up here for you. I thought it would be here by now. It’s against hospital policy but we’re in a new set of rules…” She let that hang there. I knew the pull Carter had and he wasn’t afraid to flex his abilities either. “It’s interesting to watch the top brass bend like they are. All of us are laughing behind their backs.”
I nodded, understanding exactly what she meant. Extreme money made people act differently all of the time. How Carter stayed grounded was probably the place where he connected best with Dash. “He’s my stepfather, but I guess my father in-law too. That’s funny. I never considered the connection.” My gaze darted to her kind face, trying to gauge the amount of dysfunction in my statement. She seemed to have no judgment about my words.
“I didn’t know who he was, but others recognized him on the spot. Then they felt like they knew Dash. I guess they’re photographed together regularly.”
I remained quiet, knowing Dash would find that hilarious. Carter and Dash tried to stick it to his father any chance they got, but while doing so, they’d become incredibly close.
“How’s our guy doing? I understand he’s doing better.”
“They keep tellin’ me that, but he’s not awake, or movin’,” I said, going to the opposite side of the bed from where she worked.
“Did you do his hair?” she asked, adjusting the tubes on his face.
“I tried. He’s particular about his hair. He’d be embarrassed by my efforts, but I tried,” I said, eyeing the modest flip I had managed.
“He looks great,” she said and began working on the iPad attached to his bed. “Do you two live around here?”
“No, we have a house in Sea Springs. We have children and dogs there.” My stare remained fixed on Dash’s face. “We have triplet girls who are three and a seven-month-old son.”
“That’s a big load. I have an eight-year-old daughter and I can barely keep up.” My gaze lifted to her commiserating.
“I have a sister around that age. Carter and Mom had a daughter. The more I talk about us, the more I realize we might appear super dysfunctional, but it’s not. We’re all lucky to have each other.”
“Mr. Carter claimed Dash as his son, and your mom’s Kailey’s mom, so Dash is your stepbrother and husband?” Her gaze twinkled and lifted to me, showing she was teasing. “Honestly, from what I see every day, you guys are the high point of functional. I promise.” A couple of guys pushed through the door, guiding in another bed. I couldn’t imagine lying there, awake, watching Dash breathe all night, but it had to be better than the hard, vinyl chair.
“Do you want me to turn the music back on?” the nurse asked about the speaker I placed on a stool by his head.
“I’ll do it and make the bed,” I said to the two guys shaking out a sheet. Luckily, the nurse backed me up when they ignored me.
“He likes to stay busy and do things for himself. Leave it. It’s good.” All three left the room together, leaving behind a deafening silence. My gaze traveled to Dash.
“Please wake up. I need you. Please.”
11: The Did It Happen
Beau/Dash
Beau
The Following Evening
Houston Methodist Hospital
As exhausted as I was when I crawled into this bed, was exactly how frustrated I was when I didn’t fall asleep. For the past two hours, I watched Dash and the ticking clock above his head. My eyes were gritty as hell, and I was damned drained, but sleep eluded me. My stomach churned, prompting me to rise and take a seat on the edge of the bed, giving another crazy long yawn. I eyed the food tray, as my stomach gave a solid grumble.
With my foot, I caught the backside and drew the rolling tray toward me. I lifted the silver cover, spotting a couple of prepackaged items. Juice, crackers, Jello, and a small bottle of water. The juice appealed the most and poked a hole in the top with my thumb.
“Dash. Dash!” I yelled watching his face. Nothing changed, of course. Why were the doctors and nurses saying my guy was doing any better? He looked gaunt and malnourished, more so than before.
In a couple of gulps, I drained the juice container and brought the cracker’s edge to my mouth to open. “The problem, Dash, is that you’re the talker between us. I need you to wake up and prove to me that the staff’s correct, and that you’re in fact gettin’ better, because I don’t see it. Wake up right now.”
