It was a victory, albeit a temporary one.
I looked at my phone while I sat in the living room. It was now two fifteen and Darien was getting ready to take me to Sam.
This whole thing didn’t feel real. I resented my parents deeply for coming to this decision so early.
But then again…
Sam deserved to have comfort and peace. He didn’t deserve to be hooked up to a bed at a greedy hospital, forced to straddle the line between life and death all because of a silly hope that “maybe he’ll wake up.”
I had come to tell myself that I needed to grow up and accept this fact.
If Darien weren’t here, I’d skip out on it. Seeing that heart monitor fall flat would tear me to pieces.
“Ready?”
“No.” I shook my head. “I’ll never be. This day will haunt me for the rest of my life.”
“This wasn’t your fault,” Darien reminded me.
“Why does it feel like it then?” I inhaled a sharp breath in an attempt to keep control of my emotions.
“Because you love your brother. It’s only natural. Come, we don’t want to be late.”
Ariel stopped us before we left. Mrs. Thompson was close behind.
“Mommy, Daddy, where are you going?” she asked us with big eyes.
Darien went down on one knee next to her. “To say goodbye to one of Willow’s relatives. He’s going to another place.”
“Can I come? I want to meet him too.”
“Not this time, Ariel.” He pulled her into a gentle hug. “Be good and we’ll come back and order some of that greasy pizza you love so much.”
“Yay! I want extra, extra cheese!”
“Thank you again, Mrs. Thompson,” Darien said, standing. “Jerry has a good wife on his hands.”
“No problem. You two be careful.”
She looked at us meaningfully, but I figured we were pretty safe with Morgan behind bars.
On the way there I kept silent.
I told Darien to keep the radio off. I just needed quiet. No amount of noise could drown out the pain thundering through my chest right now. It would only make it worse.
When we arrived at the hospital, Darien parked the car and got out. I didn’t. I was stuck to the seat, panicking, unable to move.
Darien walked over to my side of the car and opened the door. My bottom lip trembled as I fought back the urge to cry.
With great patience and understanding, Darien bent down and turned my chin so I would look at him. “Willow, please. You can do this.”
“I can’t.” My bones rattled, threatening to malfunction and turn to stone.
“Sam would appreciate it. I know it.”
I sighed and finally got out the car. Darien’s warm hand wrapped around mine while we walked in and found our way up to his room.
Mom and Dad were there. They turned around, and their mouths fell open.
“Willow, you’re here!” my mom gasped. “And you’ve… brought a friend.”
“This is Darien.” I had to wait while Darien shook their hands and murmured his condolences. Why did he have to be so charming? “Let’s just get this over with.”
“He’s not family,” Mom said. “No offense, Darien, but I only want family in the room with us.”
I was sure she probably disapproved due to our huge age difference.
“Darien’s with me,” I said coolly. “I want him there.”
My mom looked at him again. “Aren’t you the guy who hired her to babysit your daughter?” She demanded.
“I am indeed,” said Darien.
“What in the hell?” My mom demanded. “I don’t know what kind of a so-called ‘friend’ this is, Willow, but I will not put up with this.”
The doctor apparently overheard our argument, because he said, “I’m sorry but, unless he’s family, he’s not actually allowed inside.”
“Then I’m not—” I started to say.
“I’m her husband,” Darien interrupted. “Doesn’t that qualify?” Darien said to the doctor.
“Husband? Willow, you got married and didn’t tell us?” my mother cried, pressing her hand over her heart.
“Let’s focus on Sam,” my father said gruffly. I couldn’t agree more.
I squeezed Darien’s hand, grateful for what he had said. Normally I wouldn’t condone it but these were not normal circumstances, at all.
The doctor opened the room, and we filed in. We had dreaded this day, but it had to come. His injuries were just too severe. I was going to miss him. Sam was a pest sometimes, but he was my pest, my brother.
“I know some of you held onto the belief that he’d wake up. But with a heavy heart, I turn off the machine. He might continue to breathe on his own for a few minutes, or he might be unable to do even that. He won’t feel any pain, and he will be at peace soon. Any last words?”
“Wake up, Sam, it’s not too late,” I said to Sam, rubbing his hand.
The doctor looked at my mother and father.
“We love you, son” my father said, clearing his throat. My mother broke into tears, choking back loud sobs.
“Okay… here we go.”
The doctor turned a knob on the machine and the lights turned off.
Sam’s breathing became erratic, irregular after the slow rhythm of the machine. And his hand twitched!
“Sam? Doctor, his hand moved!” I exclaimed.
The doctor took out his pen light, pushed open Sam’s eyelids, and shone his light into them. “We do have some responsiveness,” he conceded. “But please, don’t read too much into it. It might just be a reflex or a spasm. It might not mean anything.”
If it were someone else, it might not, but this was Sam. He was coming back to me. I felt for sure he had heard me. He knew it was now or never, and this was it. Just like when we were little and I would threaten to leave him behind if he didn’t hurry up with his fishing pole and come to the creek with me. I grinned up at Darien, who wrapped his arms around me.
“Well, I’m not leaving now!” I declared.
I felt giddy with joy. And yes, I knew it could be days or weeks until Sam improved, but I knew for sure that he would. I also knew I was in this for the long haul. And with Darien by my side, I knew I wouldn’t have to worry about money.
So, we pulled in chairs, sat, talked, paced, tried to get Sam to repeat his hand movement. Darien bought us dinner— not hospital food, but some covered dishes that I swore must have been catered. He ran to the hospital gift shop for us, bought magazines and books and silly stuffed animals that were made for kids twenty years younger than my brother.
Mrs. Thompson brought Ariel up, and I thought that if anything would persuade Sam to wake up, it would be the high, sweet little voice saying, “Please wake up, Mr. Sam. I want you to drive me in the Lambo, because Mommy is too slow, and I want to go fast.”
I saw my parents’ eyebrows raise at her use of “Mommy,” but didn’t explain. That could wait.
Still, punk that he was, Sam kept us all waiting, until finally at midnight, I turned to Mom and Dad.
“Look, we don’t know how long this is going to be,” I said. “It could be weeks, and it’s been a hell of a day. Why don’t you two get some rest in the hospitality room, and if anything changes, I’ll call you.
Darien frowned at that. “You need your rest, too” he said, looking meaningfully at my belly.
“They can relieve me at, say, five o’clock,” I suggested, “and then I’ll sleep.”
My parents finally agreed to get some rest, and now I just had to work on Darien. “You need to go home too,” I instructed him. In the back of my mind, I wondered where I got off instructing billionaire Darien Thrilling about anything, but he didn’t seem to mind. “You have the hearing tomorrow.”
He frowned and shoved his hands in his pockets. “I’m staying.”
I rolled my eyes. He could be so stubborn! “Okay, then, Mr. Moneybags,” I said. “Can you make sure my parents are set up in a comfortable hospitality suite, have their phone chargers, all that? They don’t think of things like that.”
He looked at me suspiciously. “Of course,” he said, his eyes on mine. “But then I’m coming right back.”
“Fine!” I huffed in exasperation, but I also kind of loved how he took care of me.
They finally filed all out, Darien herding them without seeming to be doing it. He was great at things like that. At last, I turned to my brother.
“Sam, keep going, you’re almost there! Open your eyes!”
Nothing, of course. Because when had he ever done anything just because I asked him to?
“All right,” I said, in the most threatening voice I could manage. “You asked for it. Don’t say I didn’t warn you.”
I gently took his hand in mine and stroked it tenderly. Then, with his big hand lying there wrapped in mine, I started to sing.
“You are my sunshine, my only sunshine, you make me happy, when skies are gray…”
And I felt his hand squeeze mine. He was responding! I should call my parents, but I needed to see what would happen.
I started singing again. “You’ll never know, dear, how much I love you, please don’t take, my sunshine away…”
His eyelids fluttered. Suddenly Darien was behind me, squeezing my shoulders. He looked as happy as I felt.
“I think he likes it when you sing!” he said. Now, that was some serious support.
I laughed. “You think so? Let’s see. Sam, I’m going to sing it again, okay?”
No response, so I began again. “You are my sunshine, my only sunshine─”
He gasped, coughed, and I swear he tried to say something.
“Sam, you’re awake!” I shouted, leaning over him to hug him.
He didn’t open his eyes, though, and soon he fell back into his relaxed sleep.
“I don’t think so,” I said. My eyes were brimming with tears, such different tears than earlier in the day. “Second verse, same as the first! You make me happy, when skies are gray─”
“…stop.”
“He really likes it, Willow!” Darien said
Sam’s head moved from side to side. He was moving! He hadn’t opened his eyes yet, but he was alert and trying to communicate something.
“I’m sorry, Sam, what was that?” I said. “Sing more? Well, if you insist. You’ll never know, dear─”
“…stop…Willow…stop…”
Stupid as it was, I burst into tears.
Darien held me, but he wasn’t sure what was happening. “Okay, so let me get this straight. Your brother, who has been in a coma for over two months after an atrocious car accident, returns to the land of the living just to tell you to stop singing?”
“Yes!” I sobbed, clinging to his expensive shirt. “Isn’t it wonderful?”
Sam’s eyes fluttered open. “Not…coming…back…if…you…sing.”
“Deal,” I said, then I flung myself over his chest and wept some more.
I had Darien text my parents, who came barreling into the room. “Sam, you idiot!” my father said, trying to be stern. “You’re never driving a car again!”
“What? Come on!” He chuckled weakly.
Yeah. That was my brother. I knew he’d beat the odds.
“You were in a coma,” I explained. “We were unhooking you from your breathing machine. Stop talking, save your energy.”
“Mmm, fine,” he mumbled with a smile. “As long… as… you… stop… signing.”
That was the brother I knew and loved. He was back with us, and I was exuberant, even though I wasn’t allowed to express it by singing.