Page 30 of Love At Peace

“Oh, good.” I sat up, stiff from sitting in this chair.

“I’ve got a lead on where David might be staying, so I’m going to follow up on that.” He dipped his chin, looking at me levelly. “But I’m hoping you’ll still be willing to talk with me soon. I can tell Nevaeh will remain closed-lipped.”

“Okay.” I didn’t’ know what else to say. It wasn’t okay. None of this was.

When they wheeled Eric back moments later, I winced at the bruising on his face. He was awake, but looking drowsy.

“Hello,” the doctor greeted.

“Will he be all right?” I asked, cringing at the bandages around his head.

“Oh, I’m sure he will be. But the recovery will take a while to get over.”

“What happened?”

“The best I can tell, he fell down the stairs. His jaw was dislocated and with the extensive swelling, it seems he will be struggling to speak for a while.”

“What about his head? Was he knocked out? He seemed so sluggish.”

“We’ve scanned him and it looks like he’s suffered a mild concussion. It looks like someone hit him, and then with the marks on his body, he fell. The jaw was likely dislocated from a hit to the face”—he mimed someone punching his own face—“but he was also severely dehydrated. Checking with his primary care doctor, it seems like he’s been dealing with a persistent virus lately. I imagine that dehydration didn’t help matters.”

“Jeez.” I shook my head, worried and feeling guilty. Eric and I weren’t close, but we were family. I should’ve checked on him more. “He was already back to work and seemed to be doing better.”

“Oh, sure, sure. He was improving. He might have thought he was recovered enough to handle the stress of going back to work. Sometimes, the body needs a little longer to feel back to one hundred percent, then with this incident of a fight and fall, it’s too much for him to manage at once.”

“What about his leg?”

“He’s sprained his ankle. I’m pleased with the limited swelling, and nothing is fractured. I expect that inflammation will go down faster than the ache with his jaw.”

For a little longer, the doctor summarized Eric’s injuries and more or less erased all my fears that my cousin would suffer for long. According to him, painkillers, ice, and rest would go a long way for him feeling back to normal.

Eventually, the doctor left.

“What happened, Eric?”

He seemed to shrug, looking up at me. The bandages around his head secured his mouth shut, but I didn’t ask with the expectation he’d answer. I just had to voice my confusion out loud.

“I don’t remember,” he said through a slit in his mouth. He couldn’t talk clearly, but he wasn’t mute. “I don’t remember a damn thing.”

“Amnesia?” I hadn’t asked the doctor about that possibility.

“The doc says it’ll come back someday. But I don’t remember a damn thing.”

“You don’t remember getting a text? Or getting a ride with someone?”

He very faintly shook his head on the pillow. “Nothing.”

“You don’t remember being at that apartment building?”

“No clue. I just remember waking up and lying there. My head hurt. I couldn’t call out for help. Couldn’t stand with my ankle. And I was just so fuckin’ tired. When I think about it, it’s all fuzzy.”

I patted his arm. “Don’t. Don’t try to. Don’t force yourself.” The little we’d spoken so far had made his blood pressure go up.

He nodded faintly, grimacing. “But I want to know. I can’t stand this hazy cloud of confusion. If someone did this to me—”

“Easy,” I coaxed, patting his arm again. “Just take it easy. We’ll get the answers.”

It didn’t slip my notice how I said we would get answers. It was instinct to stand with my cousin after his fall and injuries, and that was yet another turning point in my life. Family standing with family. For me, it was the first time of experiencing this kindred sort of support. I was the one offering support, and that made me feel damned good. Like this was where I should be. Like this was where it made sense for me to stay.