Chapter 18
They’d been back at school for two weeks and Lisanne had hardly seen Daniel. She definitely didn’t consider a handful of texts a reasonable substitute. When she had seen him he’d been jumpy and short-tempered. Worse still, they hadn’t had sex even once, and although a couple of their make out sessions had got pretty heated, he’d always pulled back with an excuse that he had to be somewhere else.
Lisanne was upset and confused.
“I think he’s getting bored of me, Kirsty. He won’t talk about it and I don’t know what to do,” she confided one evening.
“You need to spend some quality time with him, Lis. From what you’ve said about Thanksgiving, it was kind of heavy. You guys just need to relax, talk.”
Lisanne rolled her eyes in frustration.
“I know! But he hardly comes near me, and when he does, it’s almost always with other people around.”
“So, don’t ask him, tell him. Plan a date—go out to dinner. Talk to him. But if it’s any consolation, Vin says he’s being weird with everyone.”
“What do you mean?”
“Well, you know before Thanksgiving, the guys had all planned to go see that football thing after New Years? Yeah, well, he cancelled on that with no explanation, and you know what a big deal that was supposed to be.”
Lisanne bit her lip, wondering if she dared voice what was really on her mind.
“Um, you don’t think … do you think he’s seeing someone else?”
Kirsty looked at her seriously. “What makes you say that?”
“Well, a couple of times he’s gotten texts and he won’t say who they’re from, and he got all annoyed and defensive when I asked him. And one of his friends from Economics wanted to know where he was because he’d cut class. When I asked him, he flat out lied to me, and said he hadn’t cut any classes.”
Kirsty wrinkled her nose in sympathy. “Did Roy or any of the guys say anything? Maybe he’s got shit going on at home?”
Lisanne shook her head. “Roy said he didn’t know anything, but…”
“But what?”
“He mentioned that Daniel does this sometimes when he’s ‘stressed’.”
Lisanne used air quotes to express what she thought of that comment.
“Maybe he is … I mean, living with his brother … and hasn’t he got a big Math paper due or something?”
“I don’t know. Maybe.”
“Well,” Kirsty said, slowly, “I wouldn’t normally suggest this, but in the circumstances…”
“What?”
“Get hold of his cell phone. Check his texts and emails. If something’s going on…”
“I can’t do that!”
“Lis, if he won’t talk to you, he’s not giving you much choice.” Kirsty shrugged. “That’s the way I see it.”
Lisanne decided to give Daniel one more chance to talk to her—and if that didn’t work … ugh, she hated the thought of spying on him.
Kirsty easily agreed to make herself absent on Friday evening. Lisanne had intended on telling Daniel the good news during their Business class that morning—but he was a no-show without even a text to explain his whereabouts. She didn’t know whether to be pissed or worried. She settled for both and texted him immediately.
* L: where are you? Are you ok? I’m worried. LA xx*
There was no reply even though she checked her phone continually during Professor Walden’s lecture.
Finally, half way through lunch break, he replied.
* D: I’m ok. *
“That’s it?” said Kirsty, annoyed on Lisanne’s behalf. “‘I’m okay’? You totally have to text him back.”
“And say what?” Lisanne sighed, trying to ignore Shawna’s smug expression.
“Tell him he’s meeting you at the dorm, and to bring take-out. Then seduce him, and make him tell you everything. Use your feminine wiles.”
Lisanne snorted. “Yes, because I have so many of those.”
“We can work on that, girlfriend. Emergency shopping expedition.”
“What?”
“Don’t worry—I have Victoria’s Secret on speed dial.”
Lisanne didn’t think she wasn’t joking. And when she found herself buying ridiculously expensive lingerie two hours later, she felt like she’d fallen down some weird damn rabbit hole in an alternate universe.
She texted Daniel immediately she got home.
* L: Dinner, my place 6:30. Bring Chinese : ) *
But his answer wasn’t what she expected.
* D: Busy tonight. Sorry. *
* L: pouting—doing what? *
* D: meeting old friend—don’t be mad *
* L: why would I be mad? *
* D: old girlfriend *
“What?!” she screamed as her phone blinked at her innocently.
* L: now I’m mad *
* D: no need. Do something tomorrow? *
* L: what do I do with my new Vic Secret panties and bra? *
* D: you are killing me! *
* L: shame to waste them. Maybe I’ll go out with K&V & guys tonight? *
* D: don’t joke, baby doll. Make it up to you tomorrow. Promise. *
* L: still pouting *
* D: ( : *
Despite Daniel’s promise, Lisanne was fed up, and she didn’t feel like staying in by herself. It was only two weeks before Christmas and one week before the end of the semester, and everywhere—except her dorm room—there was a party atmosphere in the air.
Well, screw him. He was off seeing one of his (many) exes, she was damned if she was staying in on a Friday night, all pining and pathetic.
She called Kirsty who told her where to meet them and to help herself to anything in her closet. Lisanne decided to do exactly that. Maybe Daniel wasn’t the only guy who’d think she was hot. Her heart sank at the thought, but she was determined to put on a brave face and party on—if people still did that.
* * *
By the time she was on her third cocktail, Lisanne realized they were far more alcoholic and less fruity than she’d realized. When her phone vibrated with a message, she nearly dropped it.
* D: at your room. Where are you? Are you ok? *
He really had a nerve. Dumping her for some other girl and then expecting her to wait in for him! She shoved her phone back in her bag and ignored it when another message came in, and then another.
Kirsty threw her a curious look.
“He can wait,” she said, and threw back another drink.
“Atta girl!” shouted Isaac, and swallowed his fifth tequila.
Two hours later, with her head swimming, Lisanne was remembering why she didn’t drink. Kirsty had put her in a taxi with a fierce message to the driver to make sure her friend got safely through the front door of the dorm rooms.
Lisanne staggered out of the cab, cursing the high heels that were causing her to wobble and overbalance. Then she saw Daniel’s bike parked in its usual place and her stomach lurched unpleasantly.
He was still here?
Apprehension sobered her as she slowly trudged up the stairs to her room. She was sure seeing Daniel was going to mean a fight.
He was hunched on the floor outside her door, the worried expression clearing as soon as he saw her.
“Baby doll! Fuck, you scared the shit out of me! Are you okay?”
“I’m fine, Daniel, thank you,” she slurred, her words therefore lacking the dignity with which she’d hoped to imbue them.
“Why didn’t you reply to my texts? I was imagining all kinds of shit.”
He blinked, studying her face and taking in her swaying body for the first time.
“Are you drunk?”
“I might be. Why shouldn’t I? You dumped me on a Friday night to see an old girlfriend.”
His face tightened perceptibly.
“What the fuck does that mean?”
“You’re smart, Daniel. You work it out.”
She fumbled trying to get her key to fit in the lock that for some bizarre reason had shrunk and kept sliding around. He took the key out of her hand, and opened the door for her.
Even though she hadn’t invited him, he walked in behind her and quietly poured her a glass of water.
“Drink this. You’ll feel better.”
She ignored the proffered glass.
“Why are you here? Are you checking up on me?”
His face was immediately angry. “I wanted to see you. I guess the feeling isn’t mutual.”
“If you wanted to see me, maybe you shouldn’t have gone out with another girl.”
“She’s an old friend, that’s all. Don’t be so fucking paranoid.”
“Fuck you!” she screamed, ripping off her t-shirt and skimpy skirt, revealing a set of pretty underwear in deep jade green. “I did all this for you, but you were too busy seeing an old girlfriend.”
And she burst into tears, furious that liquor and anger had robbed her of coherence.
She threw herself onto the bed, crying out her frustration.
Without speaking, Daniel sat down next to her and stroked her hair. Suddenly, she sat up and pressed herself against his chest and tried to kiss him.
He pulled away from her and held her arms firmly.
“I’m not going to fuck you when you’re drunk, Lis.”
“How noble!” she spat, tearing her arms free.
He scrubbed his hands over his face.
“Do you want me to go?”
“Yes!” She hesitated, “No.”
Some indefinable emotion flitted across his face.
“Come on, baby doll, let’s get you into bed.”
He pulled a t-shirt out of the chest of drawers, raising an ironic eyebrow when he recognized it as one of his own. He helped her into it, and unhooked her bra with one hand, slipping the shoulder straps through the sleeve holes and sliding it off in a smooth, practiced move.
Lisanne wondered fleetingly if he had a lot of experience undressing drunken girls. Probably, her unhappy heart told her.
She lay back on her bed, and found that the room was spinning. Was that supposed to happen?
“My head hurts,” she mumbled, but he couldn’t hear her and then she passed out.
In the darkest hour before dawn, Lisanne woke up.
Her head was pounding and her mouth was as dry as Death Valley. From the foul taste, it was quite possible something had died there, too. She sat up slowly and saw Daniel lying on his side next to her, sound asleep. She stood up carefully, staggering slightly and headed for the bathrooms. Then she saw his phone blinking in the dark, and Kirsty’s words came back to her.
Before she thought through what she was doing, she swept it up and hurried out of the door. The bathroom was just down the hall and empty at that time of night—day—whatever it was. Stumbling and feeling sick, Lisanne slumped down into one of the cubicles and held Daniel’s phone in her trembling hands.
The new text was the first one she saw. It was from someone called ‘Cori’. And when she scrolled through, she saw several more messages from her. The rest were from Zef and Vin, a couple from Harry—which annoyed her as neither of them had seen fit to mention that they’d stayed in touch—and the rest were from her.
Zef’s messages were surprisingly prosaic: all about bills that needed paying to avoid utilities being cut off. That must be worrying him but was something else that he’d never mentioned. Vin’s were about arranging dates to meet up, most of which Daniel seemed to have cancelled.
So she opened Cori’s messages, and her world shattered.
* C: You should tell her *
* C: When are you going to tell her? *
* C: This is a mistake. We both know it. Miss you *
He’d only sent one reply to the three messages, but it was enough.
* D: she doesn’t need to know. I want this. You know why *
Her hands shook as her finger hovered over the latest message—the one that had arrived while they’d slept. If she opened it, it would be obvious she’d been snooping. She just wasn’t sure she cared anymore.
* C: You sure know how to show a girl a good time!! : ) xx *
Lisanne turned and threw up into the toilet bowl. She felt sick and shivery. How long? That was the thought that shuddered through her brain. How long had Daniel been cheating on her?
She looked at the messages again. He’d sent a text to ‘Cori’ the day they’d got back from her parents—before she’d even finished unpacking, before she’d had a chance to show Kirsty the locket he’d given her.
* D: I need to see you tonight, 7. Usual place. *
By the time she’d stopped throwing up and felt brave enough to go back to her room, she was chilled to the bone and her head throbbed unforgivingly. But it was her chest that hurt the most. Her heart ached with his loss, even though he was still sleeping in her bed.
He was curled up on his side just as she’d left him, his right arm stretched out as if he were reaching for her. His golden skin seemed silvery in the morning light and his tattoos had dissolved into shades of gray. His long lashes fanned his cheeks and his lips were parted in a small pout as his chest lifted in deep, even breaths. In sleep he looked so innocent, and it was hard for Lisanne to believe the evidence of the text messages she’d read. She’d so badly wanted to believe in him. Her heart tore a little more as she stared at him sleeping peacefully, caught out in a lie.
His eyelids fluttered and opened, and she saw the exact moment consciousness returned.
“Hey, baby doll,” he said, sounding groggy. “Are you okay? Bet you’ve got a killer headache,” and he smiled at her crookedly.
“I want you to go,” she said.
He frowned and rubbed his eyes. “Say that again, baby?”
She stepped nearer to him and tossed his phone onto the bed.
“I want you to go.”
She enunciated each word clearly and carefully.
Confused, he stared first at the phone, then at her.
“What?”
“Go!” she hissed at him. “Go! Get out!”
Shock passed over his face and his eyes flickered back to his phone.
“Baby doll…”
“Don’t call me that! You don’t get to call me that! Get out, Daniel! Just go!”
“Lis, please, baby. It’s not what you think.”
She turned her back on him, then changed her mind. She walked over to the bed in two long strides and slapped his face hard.
He must have seen the blow coming but he didn’t even try to stop her.
He stared at her for a moment as his cheek was stained red, then swung out of the bed and pulled on his jeans and t-shirt. He didn’t even wait to fasten the buckles on his boots before he slammed the door behind him.
Lisanne collapsed onto the bed, tears choking her. Outside her window, she heard Sirona roar into life.
Several hours later, Kirsty found her, still curled up under her duvet, her eyes red, and all cried out.
“Oh, honey. I’m so sorry,” she said.
Kirsty’s kindness brought on a fresh bout of tears.
* * *
The last week of the semester was horrible. Despite the Christmas decorations, the cards, gifts and last minute holiday shopping, Lisanne felt empty. Everywhere on campus reminded her of him: the lecture halls, the quad, the library, the cafeteria—even the fitness center because he’d talked so often about working-out there. The only saving grace was that nobody had seen Daniel. He seemed to have dropped off the face of the earth. Lisanne tried very hard not to care, but she was lying to herself.
Kirsty encouraged her to come out and enjoy the seasonal festivities, but Lisanne didn’t have it in her. Even her final gig of the year with 32o North seemed featureless, and she knew her singing was below par. Roy said he hadn’t seen Daniel but Lisanne suspected he was lying, and JP hadn’t been able to meet her eyes. Only Mike acknowledged that he’d seen him, and reading between the lines, Lisanne suspected that Daniel had been drunk, or stoned, or both.
On Friday morning, the last day before the Christmas break, they received their grade for the business studies assignment. Professor Walden had awarded Lisanne and Daniel’s paper ‘A’, with the word ‘excellent!’ scrawled across the top. Lisanne stared at the paper but Daniel wasn’t there, and it seemed meaningless.
After the final class of the day and the year, Lisanne went to her room to pack. The last time she’d had to do that, she’d been heading for home, excited because Daniel was making the journey with her. Now, a few short weeks later, well, she didn’t feel like celebrating.
Kirsty walked in looking flushed and happy. She was spending Christmas with her parents and then flying out to Aspen to spend New Years skiing with Vin and his family.
“Hey, roomie,” she said. “How are you?”
Lisanne shrugged. “Okay, I guess.”
Kirsty looked at her sympathetically. “It’ll get better—I promise. Oh, hey, you got mail.”
Lisanne glanced without interest at the envelope Kirsty had dropped onto her bed. Then her eyes took in the scrawled handwriting and her stomach lurched. She’d seen it enough times as she’d studied in the library.
“What’s the matter?” said Kirsty, her blue eyes concerned.
“It’s from Daniel.”
She held the letter as if it might explode, or hiss at her, or burn her fingers—maybe hurt her heart even more than he already had.
“Do you want me to open it?”
Lisanne shook her head. She sat on her bed, leaning against the headboard, and tore the envelope, pulling out a single sheet of lined paper. She wasn’t sure what to expect: an apology, an attempt to rationalize his cheating, perhaps? But she was wrong, in every possible way.
Hey, Baby Doll,
I know you’re going to be mad at me, so I won’t even go there, but I can’t do this anymore.
Everything has changed since I met you. I thought I knew who I was, what I was, but being with you, I’ve learned about the kind of man I want to be.
The last three weeks have been so hard and I’ve hated lying to you, but I thought you might try to stop me if you knew what I was doing. I know you read Cori’s texts and if it helps any, she tried to talk me out of it. But I guess I can be pretty stubborn, too.
You didn’t give me a chance to explain that night, and I’m not sure I could have done it right, which is why I’m writing you now.
I went to see Dr. Pappas when I got back from your folks, and I decided I’m going to get the implant. He can’t tell me if it’ll work, but the docs are going to try. I don’t have anything to lose but if I can hear you sing, if I can hear your voice, that’ll be enough.
This isn’t on you, please don’t think that. I’ve tried to live without my music and I can’t do it. It slays me to see you up there, singing your heart out, and not to hear it. Pappas says there’s a good chance, so what the hell? I’ll be almost bionic the next time you see me. Ha ha. Yeah, I’ll have a chunk of metal in my head, but I’ll still be me—and I hope you’ll still want me.
I’m sorry I’ve hurt you. I hated not telling you, but you can talk me into anything and I knew you’d try to stop me. I need to do this, baby.
I’m sorry.
I love you.
Daniel x
Wordlessly, she passed the letter to Kirsty who read it quickly, her eyes widening with each line.
“Lis, I don’t understand. What’s he done? What’s this implant he’s talking about?”
Lisanne took a deep breath.
“It’s called a cochlear implant. It’s … um … I’m not sure. Sort of a hearing aid that’s put inside the ear. It’s quite a big operation and…”
But the tears had started and her words got stuck as she tried to force them past her tongue.
Kirsty sat on the bed next to her and hugged her tightly, taking care not to crease the precious letter.
When Lisanne’s sobs had eased, Kirsty gently pushed her away so she could see her face.
“I still don’t understand, honey,” she said, dabbing at Lisanne’s eyes with a tissue. “Is Daniel ill?”
Lisanne shook her head. “He’s deaf.”
Kirsty’s face was blank. “Who’s deaf?”
“Daniel! He’s deaf. That’s why I got so mad with you when you kept saying he was being rude. He can’t hear you—he can’t hear anything. He lip reads. He’s been deaf for nearly two years now.”
Kirsty was clearly flabbergasted.
“I can’t believe it! I mean … I had no clue! How could I not know? How could anyone not know? He hid it so well.”
“I knew,” said Lisanne, softy. “It was during our first study session in the library—the fire alarm went off—he didn’t react. Just … nothing. And then he told me the whole story.”
“Wow! I mean, wow! That’s just … so this operation? He’ll be able to hear again?”
“Maybe. No one can tell until afterward. I have to find him,” Lisanne choked out. “I have to stop him. He mustn’t do this.”
“Why not?” said Kirsty, trying—and failing—to understand. “It’s a good thing, isn’t it, if it might work?”
“I don’t know,” moaned Lisanne. “He always said he didn’t want a piece of metal in his head—that he didn’t need to be fixed. This is all my fault! Will you drive me to his house, Kirsty? I need to talk to him.”
“Of course I will.”
“Thank you,” Lisanne gasped.
But once they were mobile, it wasn’t as easy finding Daniel’s house as she’d thought.
For one thing, it had been months since she’d been there, and for another, he lived on the other side of town. It didn’t help that they took a wrong turn, finding themselves navigating through rows of identically dull, suburban streets.
Eventually, using Kirsty’s GPS and Lisanne’s memory, they found the right address. But the house was dark and quiet.
There was no point knocking, but Lisanne tried the door. Locked.
“He could be in there,” said Lisanne, anxiously scanning the unlit windows. “He could be in his room. Let’s see if the back door is open.”
They made their way around to the backyard, Kirsty staring with distaste at the rubbish heaped against the fence.
But the back of the house was equally dark, silent and locked against them. Just to be certain, Lisanne sent Daniel a text saying that she was outside. There was no response.
“What do you want to do?” asked Kirsty.
Car headlights strafed beams of light across the street, and there was the distinctive sound of metal grinding on metal.
“That’s my fucking car!” shouted Kirsty, running out to the front.
The rear bumper was hanging off, and one tail light had been shattered, the glass crunching under Zef’s boots as he staggered toward them. His own vehicle was abandoned at a crazy angle, half on and half off the sidewalk.
“Well, fuck me,” he sneered, “you’ve got a fucking nerve turning up here.”
“You trashed my car, you fucking asshole!” yelled Kirsty.
“Who’s your friend?” jeered Zef, “she’s got balls … and great tits.”
“Shut up, Zef! Where’s Daniel? I need to speak to him.”
“You’re asking me? That’s fucking funny.”
Lisanne pushed her finger into Zef’s chest. “Where is he?!”
He straightened up and stared down at her.
For the first time Lisanne realized how dangerously angry Zef really was. And drunk. Very drunk.
“Do you care?” he said, his voice a low growl. “Do you? Because my little brother is in hospital having a fucking hole drilled in his skull, because you made him feel like he wasn’t good enough. Bitch.”
Lisanne gasped and her hand flew to her mouth.
Zef tossed his empty beer can at Kirsty’s car and crashed through the door of his house, cursing loudly.
Kirsty tugged on her arm. “Come on, let’s go.”
Lisanne shook her head. “I have to find him, Kirsty.”
“But we don’t know which hospital he’s in. God knows how many there are in the city limits. And I don’t think his charmless brother is going to tell us.”
But Lisanne was determined. “Then I’ll just call every hospital until I find him.”
They drove back to the dorm room, all thoughts of packing or leaving aborted. Each of them fired up their laptops and made a list of hospitals to call, dividing the task between them.
Their plan was to pretend to be Daniel’s cousin and then play it by ear, fingers firmly crossed behind their backs.
They’d crossed off two hospitals each, and Kirsty was on her third call when she suddenly gesticulated wildly at Lisanne.
“Yeah, my cousin, that’s right. His brother, um, Zef, gave me this number, but he forgot to say … oh, I see. No, that’s fine. Thank you.”
She hung up and stared at Lisanne. “He’s in surgery now,” she whispered, her voice strangled.
“Oh God! I’m too late.”
The list of numbers fluttered from Lisanne’s fingers, and as the tears trickled down her face, her lungs desperately tried to pull in gulping breaths.
She wanted to go to him—she had to go to him. She stood up abruptly.
“I need to call a cab!”
Kirsty grabbed her hands. “I’ll drive you. Don’t worry about that. But you should call your parents. They’d want to know.”
“But…”
“Call your Mom.”
She picked up Lisanne’s phone and handed it to her.
It rang twice before her mother answered.
“Hi, honey! This is a nice surprise. How are…”
“Mommy!” Lisanne gulped out the word between sobs.
Immediately her mother heard the distress in her voice.
“Lisanne! What’s happened? Are you all right?”
Lisanne shook her head, unable to speak.
“Lisanne! Lisanne!”
“Mommy, it’s Daniel,” she gasped.
Her mother’s voice became cautious.
“What about Daniel?”
“He’s … he’s…”
“What? Has he hurt you?”
Lisanne could hear her father’s anxious voice in the background.
“Daniel’s in hospital.”
There was a long pause.
“What happened? Is he all right?”
“He’s…”
But the tears were falling too fast for her to speak coherently. She sobbed into the phone, clutching it tightly as if the small piece of plastic held a solution.
“Lisanne, sweetheart, take a deep breath. Try to tell me—what’s happened to Daniel?”
Struggling to control her tears, Lisanne pulled in some shuddering breaths.
“Mommy, he’s gone to have surgery. He’s having a cochlear implant … they have to cut into his skull … they have to…”
The words choked in her throat.
Her mother’s confused voice was quiet at the other end.
“I thought … you said he didn’t want anything to do with those implants. I thought he’d decided…”
“He had!” wept Lisanne. “He hated them! He didn’t want to have anything to do with them! He said they were ugly and unnatural and he couldn’t imagine why anyone would voluntarily ask to have a piece of metal shoved into their heads! He said that—it’s all my fault!”
“I don’t understand—why did he change his mind?”
“He … he said he wanted to hear me sing!” she cried.
The phone was silent.
“Oh, my poor darling,” said her mother, and Lisanne wasn’t sure if she was talking about Daniel or herself. “We’ll be there in three hours. Hold on until then. Daddy and I will be there.”
Kirsty put off all plans of leaving and insisted on driving her to the hospital. Lisanne was so grateful her friend was there. At first they couldn’t find anyone to tell them anything, but then Kirsty used the lawyer voice that her father had taught her, and they were finally able to talk to someone.
The nurse was an older woman with a sympathetic yet calm, professional air.
“Yes, I can confirm that Daniel Colton is being treated here,” she said. “Are you relatives of his?”
“Yes,” said Kirsty.
“No,” said Lisanne, at the same time.
“She’s his girlfriend,” Kirsty admitted, quietly.
The nurse took in Lisanne’s red-rimmed eyes and haunted expression.
“I see. I can only relay confidential information to his family.”
“I’m his cousin,” said Kirsty.
The nurse smiled. “Well, I’m glad to see Daniel has some … family who will be able to take care of him during his recovery. I’ve met his brother…”
Her smile fell away and she frowned.
“Is he all right? Daniel, can I see him?”
“I’m sorry, no. He’s still in surgery. They’ve only just taken him in. This sort of procedure takes two to three hours.”
She examined their worried faces.
“It’s quite a standard operation these days and he’s a fit young man. We would normally expect someone to stay in hospital for between one and three days, but it varies from individual to individual. You’re welcome to stay in the waiting room.”
“Thank you,” whispered Lisanne.
The waiting room was relentlessly cheerful, the pale yellow walls covered with posters and children’s drawings, but the chairs were comfortable and there was a water cooler in the corner.
“You should go now, Kirsty,” said Lisanne. “Your parents are expecting you.”
“I’m not leaving you by yourself.”
“My parents will be here in a couple of hours—I’ll be fine.”
“Then I’ll wait for them to get here,” said Kirsty, firmly.
Lisanne didn’t have the energy to argue.
Slow minutes dragged by as they waited, Lisanne’s eyes glued to the door. Kirsty brought her coffee, and held her hand. They didn’t speak.
Two long, slow, anxious hours later, the nurse returned.
“He’s out of surgery and the doctor says it went well. He’ll be in recovery for about an hour.”
“Can I see him?”
“Not yet. When we’ve moved him to his unit.”
Lisanne thanked her again, wiping tears from her eyes.
“See,” said Kirsty, “he’s going to be fine.”
Lisanne nodded, but couldn’t share Kirsty’s optimism. That he’d put himself through this for her sake—it seemed so wrong.
They heard a noise out in the corridor and Lisanne recognized her parents’ voices. She was already on her feet when her mother swept into the room.
She hugged her tightly and whispered soothingly into her hair. Lisanne finally looked up to see her father talking quietly to Kirsty.
“Have you seen him yet?” said Monica.
“No. He’s in recovery and I can’t see him until he’s moved. Soon, I hope.”
“Have you been able to find out anything else?”
Lisanne shook her head. “No, but I saw his brother. He blames me—he says it’s my fault. Mom, I thought he was breaking up with me. He’s been so secretive—now I know why, I just feel so horrible. I never wanted him to do this. Why did he do it?”
Her question set off a fresh wave of tears.
“Daniel made his own decision, darling. The doctors obviously thought it was a good idea or they would never have gone ahead with it.”
Kirsty came over to give her a hug. “Will you be okay if I go now? My mom is going crazy that I’ll be driving after dark.” She rolled her eyes. “I told her they’ve invented headlights, but, well, you know.”
“No, that’s fine. Thank you for staying. I really appreciate it.”
“Of course. Where else was I going to be? Text me when you’ve got some news?”
Kirsty left after one more quick hug and Lisanne sat down with her mom.
“Where’s Dad gone?”
“He went to find a doctor,” said Monica, with a fond smile. “He’s gone into ‘dad’ mode. You know how he gets.”
Lisanne forced out a weak smile. Right now, dad-mode was exactly what she wanted.
He returned a few minutes later with a tall, thin man in a surgeon’s blue scrubs.
“Good evening. I’m Dr. Palmer, Daniel’s surgeon. I understand you have a few questions. I normally only speak to family members unless otherwise authorized, but I understand that Daniel doesn’t have parents ... so, in the circumstances…”
“Could you tell us about the procedure—I’m afraid this is all new to us,” said Ernie. “Daniel didn’t tell us … my daughter is his girlfriend; she’s a music major,” he finished quietly, as if offering an explanation.
A look of understanding mixed with pity passed over the doctor’s face.
“Well, simply put, I have inserted the internal parts of the cochlear implant underneath the skin. The receiver—which we call a stimulator—sits in the bone just behind the ear.” The doctor gestured to his own head. “The electrode array is inserted directly into the cochlea.”
“So when he wakes up he’ll be able to hear?”
“No, not yet. I’ve only fitted the internal parts of the device which includes a small magnet under the skin toward the back of the head. A CI isn’t a hearing aid: it bypasses the damaged hair cells in the cochlea and directly stimulates the auditory nerve. We’ll have to wait between three and six weeks after surgery, to allow any swelling or tenderness around the implant site to subside. Only then can the external parts of the device be fitted. That includes the processor and transmitter.”
“But, he told my daughter that hearing aids didn’t help him?”
“No, an external device by itself wouldn’t offer the level of amplification Daniel needs. And we still can’t tell how successful this operation will be. Typically, it has good results, but nothing is guaranteed,” he re-emphasized.
“But he might be able to hear?” said Lisanne, desperate to understand.
The doctor sighed.
“There is no pre-operative test to determine how much a patient will be able to hear. I wish there were. The range of hearing varies from near normal ability to understand speech, to no benefit at all, and everything in between. I would hope that Daniel will be able to have some immediate benefits but improvements will continue for about three to nine months after the initial tuning sessions, sometimes for several years. He may even be able to use a telephone; however, I should warn you that not all people who have implants are able to do so. He’ll be able to watch TV more easily, although he may not hear well enough to enjoy music, for example.”
“He … he won’t be able to listen to music?” asked Lisanne, sounding distraught.
The doctor looked at her cautiously.
“Some people who’ve had this procedure enjoy the sound of certain instruments, the piano or guitar, for example, and certain voices, but a band or an orchestra—that is a far more complex range of sounds to be processed. We’ll just have to wait and see.”
“What about side effects?” said Monica. “My daughter mentioned that there’s a possibility of injury to the facial nerve?”
“It can happen during surgery, very rarely, but I’m happy to tell you that this is not the case for Daniel.”
Finally some good news, thought Lisanne.
“I would expect Daniel to experience some dizziness or attacks of vertigo, so he won’t be able to drive his car for a while.”
“He doesn’t have a car, he has a motorcycle—a Harley Davidson,” said Lisanne, unable to stop herself from adding the detail that was pointless to everyone except Daniel.
“No, he mustn’t ride that,” said the doctor shuddering, and muttering something under his breath about ‘donor-cycles’ which made Monica look faint.
“Daniel may experience some taste disturbance, but as the surgery went well, I think that’s unlikely. There may be some numbness around his ear…”
“Can … can it be damaged, the implant?” asked Lisanne.
“It’s made from titanium—even harder than Daniel’s skull.”
He saw the expression on her face, and cleared his throat.
“Sorry—doctor’s joke. Until recently we advised against contact sports, for example, but with adequate protection, he should be fine. He mustn’t get the external devices wet, of course, so he’ll have to remove those for showering or swimming.”
“When can he come home?”
“Recovery rates vary, but I’d hope he’ll be feeling well within 12 to 24 hours. Usually we’d expect a patient to go home the next day but I understand Daniel won’t have anyone to look after him…”
When he didn’t receive a response to that, the doctor plowed on.
“In which case we will encourage him to stay in a second night to aid his recovery. He’ll be given an appointment to have the stitches out in a week, and he’ll be back at school after New Years. That’s why he pushed for surgery before Christmas—he’s a very determined young man. He was lucky to get a slot so quickly—most wait months, but then again most people don’t want their holidays spoiled. Well, if you don’t have any more questions…?”
Lisanne raised her hand. “Um, I was wondering, why has he only had one implant? I mean, he’s deaf in both ears.”
“Well,” said the doctor, rubbing his eyes tiredly. “Two reasons: we need to be sure that Daniel will benefit from a unilateral implant and by how much; secondly, this is a fairly recent procedure. The first commercial CI implant took place in the mid 1970s. We’ve only reached our present level of development fairly recently. My belief is that great strides will be made in the next ten to twenty years. Anything else?”
They all shook their heads wordlessly, stunned by the influx of new information.
The doctor gave them a professional smile and left them alone.
“Well,” said Monica, rather shakily. “That all sounds … very positive.”
She looked at her husband worriedly. Lisanne closed her eyes, trying to pull back more tears. They didn’t help anyone.
A commotion outside was punctuated by the door to the waiting room being thrown open.
“How fucking cozy is this?” hissed Zef, staring wrathfully from Lisanne to her parents.
“Excuse me!” barked Ernie, in his best teacher voice.
“No, I won’t fucking excuse you,” Zef spat back. “This is all her fault,” and he pointed at Lisanne.
The nurse came bustling in. “If you can’t keep your voice down, I’ll have to ask you to leave.”
“Not without seeing my brother!” he shouted.
“Sir, lower your voice and I’ll take you to him. You and his girlfriend.”
“How come she gets to see him? She’s not family.”
The nurse ignored him, and walked out of the door. Lisanne followed hurriedly, casting nervous glances at Zef. At least he seemed to have sobered up.
“We’ve just moved him from recovery—he’s in here.”
She opened another door and showed them inside.
Daniel was lying pale and too still against the white hospital sheets.
His eyebrow ring had been removed, along with his nipple rings, and his tattoos stood out starkly against his skin. But the most obvious difference was the thick bandage wrapped around his head, with heavy padding by his left ear.
Lisanne could also see that he’d shaved off most of his hair, leaving just a short buzz-cut showing on the crown of his head, above the bandages.
Zef glanced at his brother, his face contorting, but he refused to look at Lisanne.
She swallowed back tears as the nurse fussed around him, checking Daniel’s blood pressure, noting the results on his chart.
“The surgery went well,” she said, cheerfully. “He’ll be waking up soon. He’ll be groggy and he’ll have a headache, but we can control that with painkillers.”
“I should fucking hope so,” snarled Zef.
The nurse’s smile lost some of its brilliance.
“Yes, well. If he needs anything as he starts to wake up, just press the button here.”
As soon as the nurse left, Zef turned and stared at Lisanne, his face dark with anger.
“This is your fault. He was happy before he met you. Now look at him!”
“I … I didn’t ask him to do this,” whispered Lisanne, feeling sick to her core. “I wouldn’t. I…”
“You should have stayed away from him,” said Zef, bitterly. “I told him you were dangerous.”
“I love him,” she mumbled.
“Is that right?” sneered Zef. “Is that why you wanted to change him? Now he’s got a chunk of metal stuck in his head. He’d never have done that by himself. I hope you’re fuckin’ pleased with yourself.”
He stormed out of the room, too filled with fury to look at his little brother’s girlfriend any longer.