Summer's Passing (5 page)

Unlike the nurse, Reynolds went straight to Beckie. I backed my chair up a bit, to give him room.

"So, how's Rebecca doing this morning?" He asked her.

"I'm feeling better, thank you."

"Excellent." The doctor turned to me. "And I'm assuming this is the young man who saved your life?"

I didn't know what to say. Beckie broke the silence. "I've never seen him before in my life," she said.

I know my mouth fell open. I felt it do so. I might have said something foolish at that moment. I had done it before in similar situations, but I caught Beckie winking at me again. I guess the doctor was in on it too because he snickered a little.

"Douglas Monroe, is it?" He asked me.

"Doug, yes," I replied.

He held out his hand and I shook it. "Have you told her? Does she know?"

"I know he saved me," Beckie said from behind him.

The doctor continued to stare at me. "Did he tell you how?"

"No, not how."

He turned to Beckie. "Would you like to know?"

She looked at me for a second then up at the doctor. "Yes, I'd like to know," Beckie said.

"He pulled you from a burning car, Rebecca. The car door was jammed so he pulled you out the window. Then he carried you a safe distance from the vehicle. A good thing as it turned out. Your car met a violent end shortly after."

He turned back to me. "Most people, arriving at the scene of that type of accident would have immediately hit 911 on their cell. I might have done it myself. Douglas, however, ran straight for the car, straight for the fire. I found this out from the officer on the scene, Jennings, I believe his name is. That was what saved you, Douglas running straight to your car."

Reynolds swiveled to face Beckie. “He'll want to talk to you in a little while. You feel up to it?"

"I think so," Beckie said.

"Tell me if you're not sure, I'll stall him," he continued.

"I'll talk to him, but I need a couple of minutes with Doug first."

"Not a problem. Now, let's talk about you. You sustained a fracture of your left leg four inches below your knee. A six-inch laceration across your forehead below your hairline requiring twenty two stitches. A smaller laceration on your chin, five stitches there. Otherwise just a few minor scrapes and bruises. The MRI and the X Rays came back fine."

"That's good news," I said.

"Yes, it is, all things considered," he added. 

"He cares about you." Reynolds said to Beckie as he turned to leave. "As well he should, being your steady boyfriend and all." Now it was the doctor's turn to wink at me. "Nurse Bosworth told me earlier. Is ten minutes enough time?"

"Yes, thank you," Beckie said.

Doctor Reynolds smiled and left.

"I asked them not to tell my father," she said to me when we were alone.

"None of your relatives know?" 

"Nope."

"And you said you don't want your friends involved."

"April, who I shared a place with, moved to Pittsburgh to be with her boyfriend last week, and I took an extended leave of absence from my job in Port Grace. I needed to get myself together, my head in particular. I was a mess."

"I'm sorry to hear that," I told her.

"I'm still a mess, aren't I?" 

"No, you're not a mess."

Beckie hesitated before she spoke. "I never asked you if you were seeing someone. It's been all about me."

"I live in Red Bank, New Jersey. I just graduated from college and came to Florida to try to write a book. I'm staying by myself at a beach house not far from town."

Beckie looked at me but said nothing. I couldn't be certain but it looked like she was trying to find her next words.

"I was actually pretty cute before the accident," she finally said.

"You're cute now," I added, wondering if accident was the correct word for what occurred last night. The cute part I meant though; she was still attractive, even cut and bruised.

"Why did you stay with me last night?" Beckie asked in such a straightforward way that it took me a bit by surprise.

"I wanted to," was all I could think of saying.

"Are you going to stay longer? You don't have to, you know."

"I'll stick around for a while, if you want me to," I said to her.

"Good," she replied. "Now, I need you to leave while I get a nurse in here. Private stuff."

"Okay." I stood. "You need anything from the snack room?" 

"I'm good, but thanks anyhow."

I ran into Officer Jennings in the hallway waiting out his ten minutes. He seemed rather surprised to see me.

"Douglas Monroe, no wonder I couldn't get you at your residence. Have you been here all night?"

"Yes sir," I said. "I caught some sleep in the room."

"Very admirable." He gripped my shoulder. "You know the local press wants to talk to you, right?'

"No. I wasn't aware of that."

"Well, they do. You up for it?"

"I guess so," I murmured. 

"Are you headed home now? I can ask them to meet you there."

"I'll be here for a while longer," I said.

He studied me before he spoke. I've been getting a lot of that lately.

"I'll send them here. Someone will call you to the lobby when they arrive."

I nodded.

"She about ready in there?" He asked. 

He carried a clipboard with some papers attached. His fingers twitched anxiously around the pen perched between them.

"She has some personal matters to clear up first," I told him.

"I'll wait," he replied.

I left Officer Jennings pacing in the hallway and headed to the snack machines in the emergency room lobby for a breakfast of coffee and more Doritos.

"They're moving me out of intensive care."

Those were the first words Beckie said to me when I entered the room. I had hung out in the lobby, in my favorite leather chair, while I ate my snacks and drank my coffee. I entertained myself watching a woman of Spanish heritage try to subdue her five young children while she waited. I wondered what ailment she might have to drive her to this aggravation. One of her brood, a five or six-year-old boy named Paco, was a real terror; commandeering the lobby and forcing all present to bear witness to his barbaric temper tantrums.

"What's going on in the lobby?" Beckie asked. "I can hear the commotion from here."

"You don't want to know," I said. 

Two nurses - one male, one female - were working on her. 

"I'm being disconnected," Beckie said. "Care to follow me to my new home on the third floor?"

"Lead the way," I added.

"Or you could hop on." She patted the bed. "I'll give you a lift."

"Not allowed," the male nurse, who apparently had no sense of humor, said. 

"I tried, Doug."

I tagged behind the entourage to the third floor. Somewhere, a couple of stories below me, Paco terrorized the ICU lobby. I was happy to be out of there.

After they had set Beckie up in her new surroundings, a male nurse approached me.

"If you're here for another three hours, I'm required to give you an application for employment," he said.

I guess someone in this hospital had a sense of humor after all.

"So when are you leaving me?" Beckie asked, once we had the room to ourselves.

Before I could answer, another nurse came to the door.

"I understand your visitor has some guests in the lobby, television reporters, I believe," she said.

"They want to talk to me about the accident," I said to Beckie, then added, "I'll keep your name out of it."

"I'm sure they have it already. No big deal," Beckie replied.

"I won't be long. Can I get you anything?"

"I'm fine, go on and give them what they want. Don't let on that you're Superman though. That will be our secret."

I smiled. "You got it," I said and rushed out.

I had to assume nothing much happens in Port Grace, because there were six people waiting for me outside of the hospital. Three held microphones, the others held cameras.

The questions started flying the minute I walked into the lobby. I pulled a press conference strategy and pointed to each person before taking the question.

I must admit, my head swelled a little from the praise I received from this group. One of them, a female reporter from a local TV station, told me I might even make the national news if it was a slow day.

I turned heads when I walked back into the hospital. I took advantage of the situation, smiling and waving shyly.

I went to the nurse's desk on the third floor before heading to Beckie's room, and asked to see Doctor Reynolds. He arrived a scant five minutes after he'd been paged.

"Douglas, the talk of Port Grace," he said as he approached me.

"I need to talk to you about Beckie," I said.

He listened to what I had to say, and then made some comments himself. Afterwards, we shook and I made for Beckie's quarters, feeling a little bit better about things.

She was sound asleep when I entered and I didn't disturb her. I snuck back out into the lobby and told one of the nurses I needed to go home and shower, maybe grab a bite to eat. I gave her my cell phone number, just in case, before I left.

I arrived at the beach house a short while later. It had only been a few hours since my movie and pizza run but it seemed like days. I headed straight for the shower, and used my time under the water to clear my head. 

I closed my eyes and saw Beckie driving past me in the dark, her hands gripping the steering wheel, her eyes wide and frantic glued to the road ahead, or was she watching the rear view mirror? Was someone or something chasing her? Or was something chasing me?

I thought of Beckie, broken in spirit, and now physically.Perhaps that is why I felt an attraction to her. Maybe it was a need to help her heal, or maybe it's something more than that. I had only just met her but I felt as if she has always been a part of my life. Here's the part that concerned me. I missed her. I'd known her for less than a day and I missed her.

I turned off the shower and dried off. I put on fresh clothing and after a quick inspection in the mirror, headed back to the hospital. I'd grab a bite to eat there.

"You clean up nicely," Beckie said when I entered her room.

"Sorry to leave without saying goodbye, but you were sleeping and..."

She shushed me with a finger to her lips. "You'll find you can get away with a lot if I'm properly medicated, and right now I am. Besides, I'm happy you came back."

"Anybody call?" I asked her. 

"No one," she replied. "If you start feeling sorry for me, I'll have to ask you to leave. Understand?"

"Got it," I said.

"Good. Now sit down and tell me all about yourself."

It's funny how things work. A few minutes before, I could have eaten a horse. With those words, all I wanted to do is look into Beckie's eyes.

Beckie pushed a red button on the arm of her bed. 

"Can I help you?" A tinny female voice responded.

"No calls or interruptions for a while please, I'll be occupied," Beckie said and smiled at me.

"Excuse me?" came from the speaker.

"She's medicated," I said loudly.

"Already disconnected," Beckie said. "So, let's talk."

A solid thirty minutes passed, without interruption, as I related my rather uneventful life to a woman who seemed oddly fascinated by the mundane. 

From birth to the beach house in a half an hour, I thought it must have been a record of sorts for any twenty-two year old. 

"The house I shared with April was on the beach too, at the end of a pier actually," Beckie said.

"The end of a pier?" I asked.

"Yep. April rented it from someone who only used it during the winter months. He lives in Minnesota if memory serves. Anyhow, it was an awesome place to live, though a little scary at times, particularly during storms." 

"How big is this place?" I asked.

"A decent size; two small bedrooms, and a combination kitchen, living room."

"Sounds like my place, except for the pier part."

"The house actually swayed in a strong wind," she added, "but the landlord assured us it was safe. To me, it was kind of like living on a boat."

"I guess so," I said. "You'll have to show me the place. It sounds wild."

"Oh, I'm not going back there, at least not for a while. Not like this. Doctor Reynolds is talking about a rehab facility when I leave here in a couple of days."

"Those places aren't cheap," I added.

"It seems my father still carries me on his insurance policy, the least he can do," Beckie said.

I stared at her for a couple of seconds, or maybe longer, I'm not sure how long, but she stared back at me.

"Or you can come home with me, and I'll take care of you," I finally said.

For the longest time, Beckie said nothing. She just lay still, looking at me. Her eyes reddened, a couple of tears fell. She didn't attempt to brush them away. When Beckie eventually spoke, she asked a question.

"Have we met before?"

"I don't think so," I said.

She stared a while more. "I think we have," she said. "In fact I'm sure of it."

I thought she might be right. The world had become, in the span of a day, a strange and mysterious place; a place where reality might sway like a house on the water in a mighty wind, and where a lost memory might hold the answer to everything.

"You'll need to take care of me, and I'll be a handful. You need to make that commitment. If you can't I'll understand," Beckie said.

"I'll take care of you," I answered.

"I've never believed anyone, ever, but I believe you, Doug. I believe you will take care of me."

A nurse entered then. "Interrupting or not, it's time for a shot and some pills," she said with a little bit of gruffness. 

"Is your cafeteria still open?" I asked her as gently as I could.

"Should be," she responded.

"Can I get you anything?' I asked Beckie. The question generated a dirty look from the nurse, so I asked her the same question.