Dalt
It’s easy to see where Nikki gets her amazing piercing blue eyes. Her mom’s are the same stunning color. Although, even from twenty feet away, I can see Rose Dixon’s are red and swollen right now. As she watches me approaching, her tired weary eyes are doing the pulverizing laser-beam glare thing Nikki has thrown me more than once in the past few months. Needless to say, Rose isn’t happy to see me. Every bone in her small frame stiffens as I walk toward her.
Her stature is different than Nikki’s. Where Nik has the strong, solid frame of an athlete, her mom is petite and fragile in appearance, though from everything Nikki has told me about her, Rose is as resilient as they come in tough situations. Her delicate appearance but irrepressible character reminds me of the way my mom described the Verbena daisies she had in the flower garden she spent hours in before she died, delicate in appearance but resistant to harsh conditions.
Rose’s shoulders pull back and her stance widens like she’s about to block the fire breathing dragon from getting to her daughter.
I surge ahead. “How is she? Can I see her?”
I should be begging for her forgiveness for what I’ve done to Nikki, but there will be time for apologies later. Right now, being by Nikki’s side is the most important thing. When I get within five feet of Rose, I discover the entire wall across the hall from the nurses’ station is glass.
I’m unable to breathe while at the same time my heartbeat kicks up and pounds against my ribs when I see Nikki lying in a bed on the other side of the glass. Aside from the tubes and lines protruding from everywhere on her body and the full leg cast covering her right leg, she looks like Sleeping Beauty. Her platinum hair is spread out on the pillow propped under her head, her blue bangs are brushed to one side, and there’s not one scratch or mark on her beautiful face to indicate she was in a horrific accident.
I press my hand onto the cold glass trying to will Nikki to open her eyes.
“What have they told you? What’s her diagnosis?”
Rose walks up beside me and stares through the window at her broken daughter. Fresh tears follow trails down her already stained face.
“They’re not sure,” she whispers. “They won’t know anything for a day or two unless she wakes up before that. They can’t get an accurate evaluation because of the tracheal tube and residual effects of surgery.”
“Surgery? She had surgery?”
“Her leg. She had multiple fractures. I…I don’t know if…” Rose breaks down and begins sobbing.
I drape my arms around her in an awkward hug. She may push me away, but the only thing I have to offer in compensation for what I’ve done is a small amount of comfort and support. She doesn’t push me away, and instead collapses into me, sobbing uncontrollably.
“She’s going to be okay. Nikki’s strong. She’s a fighter. She’ll be okay.”
I’m not sure who I’m trying to convince, Rose or me. But her shoulders stop convulsing, her sobs quiet, and she steps back.
“Do you love her?” she asks. “Because if you do you should be by her side. But if you don’t, I don’t want you here to hurt her any more than you already have.”
“She’s my life and I’m not going anywhere,” I answer without hesitation.
Rose nods and pushes open the door to the intensive care unit, gesturing for me to go in. As she stands there holding the door for me, I note her exhausted appearance.
“Excuse me? Is there somewhere Mrs. Dixon could lie down for a few minutes to get some rest?” I ask the nurse sitting at the station desk.
“Yes. I have a bed down the hall we use for family members in these circumstances,” the nurse replies. “I suggested several times Mrs. Dixon should try to get some rest.” She comes from around the desk and puts her arm around Rose’s shoulder. “You can’t let yourself get run down and sick. Your daughter’s going to need your strength when she wakes up.”
The nurse’s encouragement works and Rose nods in agreement.
“I won’t leave Nikki’s side,” I tell her, then let her know about the specialist I have coming to evaluate Nikki.
She doesn’t ask any questions. Her exhausted mind and body are probably too drained to ask for any information. Still, the tension drops from her shoulders a bit and she breathes out, “Thank you,” and walks down the hall with the nurse.
When I’m about to enter Nikki’s room, my phone vibrates with an incoming text message.
Garrett: Dr. Daniel Hensley. Top in the field. He’s coming in from Johns Hopkins. I chartered a jet in Maryland for him. It’s faster than sending ours cross country. Four hours, tops. Hang in there.
Me: Thank you
***
Standing next to Nikki’s bed, I feather my fingers down her cheek. Her skin is soft and warm. I lean down and replace my fingers with my lips, brushing a kiss on her cheek and then one on her forehead. “I’m here, baby. Please open your eyes, sweetheart. Wake up for me, Nik. Chloe and I need you to stay with us.”
I pull up a chair next to her bed and continue to plead with her for the next few hours to come back to me.
I’m not sure how much time has passed when I feel a hand on my shoulder jarring me awake.
“Dr. Hensley is here, Mr. Walker.”
I must have drifted off to sleep while whispering in Nikki’s ear. I’m slumped over in the chair, my head resting on her pillow. The first thing I see when I blink open my eyes is her beautiful profile. My nose is pressed against her face.
“Dr. Hensley is here, Mr. Walker,” the person shaking my shoulder repeats. I sit up. The stiffness in my back and neck sends a painful reminder not to fall asleep hunched over in a chair.
“What time is it?” I try to get my bearings.
Nikki. Accident. Hospital.
The terrifying realities come flooding back.
A gray-haired man in a tan button-down sweater vest and olive-green corduroy pants is standing over me next to Rose and a different nurse from the one at the desk last night.
“Not the best sleeping position for your spine, son.” The man, who I assume is Dr. Hensley, points out the obvious. “This young lady must be Ms. Dixon.” He leans in to take a closer look at Nikki. His appearance is more that of Mark Twain than Charles Mayo. If we weren’t in an intensive care unit I’d expect him to pull out his corn cob pipe.
I glance at Nikki. She’s in the exact same position she was last night. Her eyes are closed, her hands still strapped to the bed to keep her from pulling out any of her lines if she should move in a sudden spasm. The dim spark of optimism I held hoping she would be awake today fizzles.
“I’m Dalton Walker, and you must be Dr. Hensley.” I pop up from my chair-bed and extend a hand in greeting.
“Yup.” Dr. Hensley acknowledges my introduction but doesn’t take his assessing eyes off Nikki to take my hand.
“Thank you for coming, Dr. Hensley. I appreciate you traveling all this way.”
“With the generous donation your brother gave my research foundation, Mr. Walker, there’s no need to thank me.” He runs his hand down Nikki’s left leg through the covers.
“Whatever it takes. Money is no object. Just bring Nikki back to me.”
“How long has Ms. Dixon been out of surgery?” He turns to the nurse without commenting on my offer.
“Fifteen hours, doctor.”
He glances over to me. “Give me a chance to evaluate Ms. Dixon, then I can give you my prognosis.”
“Yes. Thank you, sir.” Something about his no-nonsense demeanor tells me if anyone can help Nikki, this is the man to do it. My optimism rekindles.
Dr. Hensley turns to me for the first time since entering the room. “But I have to be honest with you. Money isn’t the issue here, son. There’s no amount of money that will bring Nikki back to who she was before if there’s too much brain trauma.”
I had almost forgotten Rose was standing there until she lets out a little gasp. Dr. Hensley’s words succeed in extinguishing my hope.
He must read the despair on my face and hear the sound of Rose’s distress because he adds, “But let’s not put the cart before the horse here. Give me some time and I can give you a better idea as to what we’re dealing with.”
“How long before you have some idea, doctor?” Rose asks in a weak voice.
“I’ve already read Nikki’s charts and I’ve spoken to the attending physician. If you can give me some time to do my own evaluation, I can better answer some of your questions. Ms. Blanchard, will you stay and assist me, please?”
“Of course, doctor,” the nurse replies. “Mr. Walker, if you and Mrs. Dixon will have a seat in the guest area, I’ll call you in when Dr. Hensley is finished with his evaluation.”
I don’t want to leave Nikki even for a minute but I brought Hensley here because he’s one of the best in the country. I have to follow his instructions and let him do whatever it is he needs to do to help her.