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“Audrey and her father used to go out to the lakes fishing a lot,” Emma states, noticing that I’m studying the photo. “Her dad used to work too much trying to get the café off the ground and earning some well-needed cash after investing so much into it. He would be burned out most days but would take the time to be with Audrey whenever possible. He was her life, as she was his.” Tears glisten her eyes again as she studies the photo. “That day, Audrey caught such a big trout that it got a lot of attention. One of the local fishermen took that photo as they brought it ashore. Audrey was so excited that she convinced her father to go back out again, and when they did, within ten minutes she caught another one. However, her father couldn’t get to her quick enough, and when the fish grew too strong for Audrey, she fell into the lake. Her father fell in quickly after and was so worried she was in trouble. But then a fish swam by and slapped him on the side of his face. Audrey laughed so hard when she saw that and after the shock wore off, my George followed suit. They came back home, drenched, but so full of life. I will never forget that day. Never forget the meal we had from the trout Audrey caught, and the story they told me. They told it so vibrantly it was like I was there with them.”
The story makes me smile and, I must admit, slightly jealous. I could only ever dream of having a memory like that with my father.
Staring at the photo, however, I smile. “I can imagine it all myself. It sounds like Audrey and her father had some fun times together.”
“Yes, we all did. Some of the happiest ever.”
Placing the photo back down, I turn towards Emma who’s looking at Audrey. “You’ll have more happy times like that once she wakes up.”
I’m doing it again, but I can’t stop my mouth from spilling the words before my brain engages. Somehow, though… I feel it in my gut that it’s right.
“I really hope so,” she replies, taking a tissue out from her sleeve and wiping her nose with it. “She will be so annoyed when she wakes up and finds out that you were here.”
We both laugh at that.
“Well, then. I will be sure to come visit again once she wakes.”
“That will be nice,” she replies, her eyes lighting up a moment.
I stay a few more minutes, talking with her about Audrey and all the fun times she had as a child. It’s nice for those few minutes, Emma animatedly telling me about how well Audrey always adapted to any sport at school. “Like a duck to water,” she explained. Throughout the great times, there was also that concern that she would hurt herself—which, at the age of eleven, she did. One day at basketball she jumped up high to score a basket and her opponent knocked into her, causing her to fall quite badly on her arm. The concern in Emma’s voice remembering that time is palpable. Audrey broke her left arm, which sucked for her considering she is left-handed.
At one point, Emma excuses herself to use the restroom, leaving me alone with Audrey. I use that time to sit down and talk with her, telling her she better wake up soon in order to make her mother stop worrying so much.
After my pep talk, my eyes scan to her hand, noting the hospital wristband, the name Audrey Felicity Stone written at the top, the date of her birth revealing that she recently had her twenty-first birthday.
Feeling the need to touch her, my fingers reach out, tenderly stroking over her warm, delicate hand as I clasp it with my own, the heat spreading with an ease that indicates she’s very much alive. However, upon doing so, her heart rate monitor quickens, causing panic to settle in my chest. After quickly retrieving my hand from hers, her heart rate thankfully calms, enabling me to breathe again.
For a few seconds, I allow myself to take in Audrey’s sweet, heart-shaped face, her naturally long eyelashes that fan across her cheeks. The way that despite the paleness in her face, her cheeks are slightly pinkened, showing the world that she’s still here… fighting for her life. I don’t know this young woman at all, and yet, how is it I somehow feel compelled to be with her? None of this makes any sense.
And if the craziness couldn’t get any crazier, in the last minute before Emma returns, I take that photograph of Audrey, her dad, and the trout and hide it in my inside jacket pocket. Briefly, I feel guilty about taking it, and hope that Emma doesn’t immediately notice, but something urges me to bring it back home with me—continuing my craziness.
When the door opens, my heart rate picks up and I find myself guiltily standing in front of the photographs in the hope that Emma doesn’t notice I’ve stolen the very one we were conversing about just minutes ago.
As she catches me standing there, she quirks her eyebrow. “Are you okay?” she asks.
“Yes, I’m fine, thank you. Apart from the machine beeping it’s very peaceful in here.”
Emma moves right past me to take her seat right next to Audrey, so I use that moment to quickly move to the other side of the bed so that her eyes are not focused on the photos.
Man, I’m paranoid.
“It’s why I sit here most hours of the day,” she replies, taking Audrey’s hand again. I wait for the her heart rate to jump like it did when I touched her, but nothing happens. The same steady beat pumps throughout the room.
Still paranoid about the photo, and knowing I have probably outstayed my welcome, I make my excuses to leave. “I need to get back to LA,” I say.
Her smile is soft and genuine. “Of course you do. No rest for the wicked when you’re a Hollywood movie star, huh?”
I laugh at her little joke. “No, I guess not. It was lovely meeting you, Emma.”
“It was lovely meeting you too.”
Lightbulb moment—I reach into my wallet and grab a card with my cell number, handing it to her. “May I ask that you please call me the moment Audrey wakes?”
She takes the card, keeping it tightly in her free hand. “Of course.”
“Thank you.” I then glance towards Audrey. “Bye, Audrey. Wake up soon,” I urge.
With a smile and a nod to Emma, I leave the room, hastily making my way down the hall towards the elevator, calling Finnegan along the way to let him know I’m ready to leave. Once out of the elevator, I call the pilot to let him know I’m ready to go back to LA, and walk out into the fresh Wyoming air. As Finnegan pulls in to pick me up, I notice a few people staring, so I immediately duck my head and as quick as a flash, I’m in the car.
