Authors: Katherine Owen
God doesn't appear to be listening.
≈ ≈
"You need to go home and take a shower," Tate says on day six. "I'll call you if there's any change."
"No."
"Yes. Ashleigh's going to take you home. Your mother has food on the table. Go eat. Shower. Shave, for God's sake."
"Leave God out of this," I roar.
"Go home, Brock. I'll call you if anything changes."
Ashleigh keeps glancing at me as we make our way to my mother's. I'm reminded of Reed in another lifetime not all that long ago in Afghanistan.
"What's up?" I finally ask.
"Thank God, you guys got married. It would be a lot more complicated making all these decisions if you two weren't married."
"She's going to hate me for not choosing that baby if she loses her."
"No. She won't. God, she loves you so much, Brock."
"Don't cry. I don't think I could take that on top of everything else."
I rub at my eyes and stare out at the wintry landscape. Bleak. Like me.
Ashleigh fidgets with the steering wheel and still swipes at her face every once in a while. My propensity for sympathy is at an all time low, but I give it a try.
"Ashleigh, what is it?" I ask quietly.
"We got married. Before you guys came," she says, shaking her head. She frowns. "We just snuck away to Vegas one weekend and got married. I didn't want to wait." She tries to smile, but her eyes fill with new tears. "I knew Jordan would eventually understand. And now? I just want to be able to
tell
her." She swipes at her face, but the tears come too fast now.
"Comas are tricky," I say slowly. I wince at my words. They mimic Dr. Stephen Anders' so well. The brilliant surgeon has been unable to fully explain Jordan's unexpected comatose state to any of us.
Here's what we know to be true. She's alive. She's breathing on her own. She's stable. They caught the aneurysm in time, before it burst. It was some congenital condition that no one could have really known about or prevented. Benign. All good news. A full recovery is possible. Yes. All good news, except she hasn't woken up, and it's been almost seven days since that first surgery.
I reach out and pat her hand.
"Congratulations. We'll celebrate when this is over. Soon. Secret ceremonies are all the rage these days," I say with a touch of the old sarcasm.
Ashleigh laughs and gives me a grateful smile. "All the rage," she says.
*≈*≈*
Chapter 31. Love, save the empty
Jordan
The voices come. They fade in and out like a piece of music that seems familiar, but not quite recognizable. First, I appreciate their crescendos, but then I encounter their despair. The musicality of their voices reaches for me, but seems to just miss me every time.
Am I the instrument being strummed? I cannot produce any sound, even when they touch me. My legs and arms are moved up and down, sideways, backwards, and forwards.
My lips form the words: 'just stop.'
'Just stop,' I long to say, but there is only the air, moving in and out of my lungs. There's no sound. All is silent, except for the breathing. It's a thousand times silent.
If I could blink, maybe, they would stop and listen and eventually say: "There she is; let's stop."
But they cannot hear me. Or, they do not listen.
'Just stop.'
The words roar through my mind, but there is no sound. The disconnect of my mind from my body appears permanent.
≈ ≈
Time lapses. I am alone.
I am lifted up, floating above it all. I see it all so clearly and try to think of how to reach past the nothingness toward something, towards
anything
.
There's this hopelessness that I must battle. Despair, I suppose.
It infiltrates all of me now.
Desperation sets in. 'Just stop.' I long to say.
≈ ≈
But now,
he
is here, but just out of reach.
If I could move my hand in his and make him see me. A single finger, if I could lift a single finger, just one. Just once. I try again and again to lift a finger, just a finger, but my body does not cooperate and my mind seems reluctant to give in to such commands.
Detached? Perhaps. Defeated? Most definitely.
'Move,'
I think.
'Just move.'
But nothing moves, least of all, me.
I cannot open my eyes. I cannot see him. Can he see me?
I take consolation in his presence in knowing he is here and just out of reach. It comforts me.
Somehow, I know that he waits for me. He keeps me from drowning in the despair. I will not succumb to it because he is here with me, holding my hand. I just wish I could hold his back.
The timbre of his voice consoles. It touches me, but no tears fall.
≈ ≈
Sometimes, it feels as though I'm under water. That's it. I'm under water. Yet, I carry this firm belief that he will save me. His constant presence keeps me from drowning in these relentless, mysterious waters. Just hearing his voice keeps me afloat.
≈ ≈
Sometimes, the sounds are too far away. I long to call out:
'I'm here.'
Yet, the sounds stay back away from me, more and more.
Frustration grows, like a runaway vine in a neglected garden, long forgotten. Hopelessness, too, it wends its way through all of my nerve endings. It holds me down. I'm its prisoner, lashed to this table.
I want to cry, but no tears fall.
Sometimes, I sense I am all alone. That's when the inner panic comes to life deep inside of me.
Coldness lurks, even though I feel the warmth as my body is constantly bathed in bright light. The light can be white, yellow, and sometimes even red and envelops all of me. But the light does not keep me from the cold and the dark that threaten from all sides.
The intensity of this prism seems prepared to set me on fire, but dark cold fear attempts to obliterate the light. It is constant.
I try to scream, but still, there is no sound.
≈ ≈
No movement. No sound. No life. Just this constancy of breath, in and out. That's when the terror presses downward.
My greatest fear? I'll just stop breathing one day.
My next greatest fear? That I no longer care.
Yet. It's his voice that sustains me.
His voice
.
"What do you want?" he asks.
I want to answer his question. I want to try and answer his question. I don't know the context in which he asks this of me, but I want to answer,
My lips won't move. My mind swirls, like a child's spinning top, but my body just stays disconnected from it all.
Free will ebbs away with each breath I take.
I count them. One hundred. One thousand.
Ten thousand. One hundred thousand.
I long to open my eyes and discern the nothingness for myself, ascertain the realness of this fate and test the boundaries of this prison.
Please, God. Let the nothingness end.
Acceptance settles in. I must accept my fate. This is how it will be.
Then, he whispers, "What do you want?"
He brings me back. His voice sustains me. It keeps me afloat.
His voice.
"What do you want?" he asks again.
I cannot answer him.
But if I could, I would answer simply, '
you.'
≈ ≈
Sunlight floods the room. I'm lit up by it, too. I bask in the light. I wait it out. My mind seems to clear like a fog that, at first, occupies the shore, and then, mercifully relinquishes its grip. Eventually, I glance at the machines to my right. My heart rate beats at a steady rate of sixty-two. I think that's good. I move my head to the left and gaze at all the horizontal lines along the papered walls. Then, I glance out the only window and see the clear blue sky.
The world appears to be in order. And, I am here.
This rippling motion at my abdomen captivates me. Enchanted, I move my hand across this huge mound that is my abdomen.
Our baby girl is still here. Thank you, God
.
My lips part and I attempt to smile. The effort is altogether exhausting.
I dwell in the haze of uncertainty and try to take it all in.
The door swings open. I turn my head in anticipation of whoever is walking in and discover I can smile more easily this time.
Joy courses through me like an incredible drug-induced high at the sight of him. He carries a Styrofoam cup of coffee in one hand and a bouquet of garden flowers in the other. So. Is it
April
?
"Oh, Lieutenant, you look so
good
," I whisper as a single tear travels down the side of my face.
Brock drops all of it. The flowers fall to the floor, carefully chosen, it would seem, yet, forgotten in an instant. His coffee splashes everywhere. The sunlight hits his dark, wavy hair as he races over to me.
And then, he's kissing me and I'm kissing him back.
"Do you have a toothbrush by chance?" I ask against his lips as initial joy gives way to self-conscious insecurity.
"No," he says with reverence. "No toothbrushes."
He strokes my face and fondles my hair in his amazing silent way.
I reach up and feel the left side of my head. It's short and bristles beneath the palm of my hand like an uneven crew-cut. "My hair," I murmur after a few minutes. "What happened to my hair?"
"Doesn't matter. You're here. I'm here. That's all that matters," he says, kissing me again. Then, he whispers my name over and over.
He's the one who has been here with me the whole time.
I pull away and gaze up at him with intense wonder, knowing he's the miracle, not me.
"You asked me what I wanted," I finally say. "I
heard
you."
"You did?" Brock asks.
"My answer is
you
. I want you. I'm sure of only
you
." I smile wide. "And you kept your promise," I say with a laugh.
And, that's when he starts to cry.
*≈* ≈* ≈* ≈*
The End
Play list
for When I See You
I listen to a lot of music while I write, so I put together a list of songs that I played, while writing
When I See You
. As you will see, I used the song titles for most of the chapter titles. Here's that song list. Enjoy!
"Can't Help Falling In Love" - Ingrid Michaelson (Chapter 1)
"Show Me What You're Looking For" - Carolina Liar (Chapter 2)
"Wonder Woman" - Katie Todd Band (Chapter 4)
"Wreck of the Day" - Anna Nalick (Chapter 6)
"Gravity" - Sara Bareilles (Chapter 8)
"Violet Walk" - Jenny Dalton (Chapter 9)
"Hope You're Happy" - Lene Martin (Chapter 11)
"The Space Between" - Zero 7 (Chapter 12)
"Spell" - Marie Digby (Chapter 13)
"Satellite" - Ganging up on the sun Guster (Chapter 14)
"Catalyst" - Anna Nalick (Chapter 15)
"Chasing Cars" - Snow Patrol (Chapter 16)
"Crazy About This Girl" - Evan & Joran (Chapter 17)
"Give In to Me" - Garrett Hedlund; Leighton Meester (Chapter 18)
"Your Eyes Open" - Keane (Chapter 19)
"We Fall Down" - Dana Parish (Chapter 20)
"Never To Know" - Lene Martin (Chapter 21)
"You're The Storm" - The Cardigans (Chapter 22)
"Soul Meets Body" - Death Cab for Cutie (Chapter 23)
"You Lost Me" - Christina Aguilera (Chapter 24)
"A Falling Through" - Ray LaMontagne (Chapter 25)
"What I've Done" - Marie Digby (Chapter 26)
"Chances" - Five For Fighting (Chapter 27)
"Dream" - Priscilla Ahn (Chapter 28)
"Looking for Water" - Alex Parks (Chapter 29)
"Keep Breathing" - Ingrid Michaelson (Chapter 30)
"Love, Save The Empty" - Erin McCarley (Chapter 31)
Acknowledgements
This is a special thank you to my husband Michael and my two kids who have all put up with haphazard food preparation and too many frozen dinners to count this past year, while I wrote
When I See You
and published two other novels.
Writing is a solitary process for me with lots of starts and stops, especially with this novel, so thank you goes to all of my family and friends who have encouraged me along the way to keep going when that seemed all, but impossible.