Sweet Nothing(89)

He looked a little different from what I remembered, but the scent of motor oil and grease was the same. A few sniffles turned into tears, and soon, his body was shaking around me. I pressed the palm of my free hand against his back and let my eyes close, struggling to keep us both from crumbling into a heap of despair.

We broke apart as Dr. Rosenberg knocked on the open door and stepped inside. He smiled at me, looking tan and rested. “Hi, Avery. Your aunt told me you would be in here. I’m sorry I haven’t been in sooner. I took the family to Fiji for vacation.”

“It’s’ fine,” I said, trying not to recoil.

Dr. Rosenberg read over Josh’s chart before he turned his attention to Josh’s father. “Mr. Avery, I’ve spoken with Dr. Weaver about your decision. We can discuss it later.” The doctor nodded at me with a friendly smile.

He was trying to hint for me to leave, but I stepped forward. “What decision?”

Mr. Avery looked even more devastated.

My eyes danced between the two of them, and then I looked down at Josh, afraid. “What decision did you make?”

“Avery,” Dr. Rosenberg said, putting a gentle hand on my shoulder. I shrunk away from him.

Everyone froze when Josh’s monitor picked up.

“See?” I said, hobbling over to sit in his bedside chair. My cane fell to the ground, and I took his hand in mine. “He can hear us. He knows we’re in here with him. He just needs more time. I woke up. When he’s ready, Josh will, too.”

Dr. Rosenberg looked down at me with sad eyes and reached for the call button.

“How can I help you?” a nurse squawked over the intercom.

“I need to speak with Mr. Avery in private. Please escort Miss Jacobs to her room.” He stepped back. “I’m sorry, Avery. You’re too upset.”

“You’re damn right I’m upset,” I said, shaking my head, looking up at Josh’s father. “Don’t do this, please,” I begged, tears streaming down his face. “He just needs a little more time. Just a little more time.”

Parsons and Smith came in, picking up my cane and me, and gently guiding me toward the door.

I turned around. “Please!”

His face was red and blotchy, his cheeks wet.

“It’s okay, Avery, shh,” Parsons said. “Let’s get you back to your room.”

“A light sedative, Parsons,” Dr. Rosenberg ordered, no inflection or emotion in his tone.

“No,” I wailed. “Please let me stay with him!”

Aunt Ellen met us outside my door, helping the nurses to tuck me into bed. I was limp with despair. It made no sense for Josh and me to have gone through the accident, for me to have the memories I couldn’t forget, for Josh’s brain activity to increase at the sound of my voice, if it was all just a dream. Love was something we couldn’t see, an intangible variable to the equation of life. Who were any of them to say what I felt wasn’t real? Separating us may have been sentencing him to death. Josh was the one person I couldn’t let go.

“It happened,” I bawled. “We love each other. We had a life together.”

Parsons leaned down, caressing my hair while Smith pricked my skin with a syringe, pushing the sedative into my veins. My mind fogged over, my body becoming too heavy to fight against them.

“Just rest, honey,” Aunt Ellen said.

Once again, my eyes closed, but I didn’t dream. I remembered only sinking into darkness, sadness pulling me further into the deep. I wondered if I would ever see my husband again.





I waited in a wheelchair for Aunt Ellen, watching the various cars and minivans load and unload patients and passengers.

The leaves on the trees were already beginning to turn, and the fall breeze blew through my light sweater.

Brakes whined as a yellow cab came to a stop, and the driver side door opened and closed. My breath caught when I saw the cabbie approach.

“Need a cab?” he asked.

My eyes glossed over. “No, thank you. I’m waiting on my aunt.”

“Is she on her way?”

“She’s just coming from the parking lot.”

“I have a card,” he said, digging a creased rectangle from his pocket. He placed it in my hand as if it were an inconvenience. “Call if you need a ride.”

I looked down and sucked in a tiny gasp. “Thanks, Mel.”

Mel hobbled back to his cab, waving once without looking back.

Once the dirty cab pulled away, Aunt Ellen swerved her rental toward the curb, parking next to me. She hopped out, rushing to help me into the passenger seat.

“Who was that?” she asked.

“That was Mel,” I said, holding his card to my chest.

She watched me for a moment, curious, and then shut my door and rushed around the front of the car to her side. “And we’re off,” she said, merging into traffic.

With every mile we traveled closer to my building, I felt emptier.

“I bet you’re excited to get home,” Aunt Ellen said.

“Not really.”

“No?”

“Not without Josh.”

Aunt Ellen pressed her lips together. “That was some dream you had.”

She exited the highway, taking a detour to the pharmacy before parking in front of my building.