I got out of the hospital a week later.
It had been a grueling week with a fair amount of tears shed on my end. I still had a lot of healing to do both mentally and physically, and that was a harsh reality for me to take in. I wanted to be back to normal instantly, and that just wasn't going to happen. It wasn’t the brightest of weeks. Like most clouds, though, mine had a silver lining. There was something about going through that difficult time that made me more deeply depend on God. I was thankful for that new mindset and knew it would be beneficial in my normal life. (When and if I ever had one again.)
I was doing much better by the time I left the hospital, but I still needed observation and physical therapy, so we decided that I should spend a little time with my parents. Elroy moved in with them when I got in the accident, so he was there when I got to their house.
That was a really neat, tear-filled reunion where Elroy howled even though he wasn't a howling dog and I had never heard him do it before. My mom tried to video it, but she didn't get her phone out in time. He was so excited that he squirmed on his back and then ran around before squirming again. He did this for about the first twenty minutes after I came home. He was fit to be tied.
I had a low-key first evening home. I knew my thinking wasn't right just yet, but I was starting to put the pieces together, and I felt like being home would help me with that. Will had the boys at Ben's baseball practice, but Katie came over with the baby.
I had met little Ada Caroline (or Ada Cakes as Will called her) when I was in the hospital, but the week had passed in a blur, and I was happy that Katie brought her over now that I was at home.
My mom and dad were playing with Ada on a blanket while Katie gave me a pedicure and painted my toenails. The impromptu pedicure was her idea and so super sweet that I had to resist the urge to cry the entire time she did it. Something had changed in me during that long sleep, and I felt touched by gestures like that. Katie smiled, and filed, and painted my toenails, and didn't seem to think a thing of it, but I was touched.
"I can't believe you're not going to call Theo," Katie said as she painted the light purplish-pink color onto my toenails. "He really liked you, Caroline. The only reason he left was because we told him… I mean, the doctors told him… we thought we wouldn't get you back. That's the only reason he left. You should have seen him. Your parents had to have a long talk with him and pretty much beg him to leave."
"I know," I said. "Mom told me."
"So, why aren't you going to call him?" She asked, looking confused.
"I am going to, I'm just not there yet."
"He calls every once in a while to ask your mom how you're doing. You better hope he doesn't call before you call him because your mother is a terrible liar."
"I'm just not right yet." I said. "I think one day I'll be better, but right now I've still got stuff I'm dealing with, physically and mentally. I'm still trying to put the pieces together. It's weird. Somehow, I know in my heart that I love him, but I don't want to burden him with knowing I woke up unless I feel like I'm recovered."
"You would not be burdening him," she said.
"What if he's with somebody now? He probably is. He probably moved on. Mom said it's been a few months since he's called."
"He hasn't moved on," she said rolling her eyes.
"How do you know that?" I asked.
"Because I could see how much he loved you."
"Yeah, but that was a long time ago. People move on when they think you're not coming back."
She shook her head a little as if to say she didn't quite agree with me, but she didn't say anything else.
"Do you remember what he looks like?" she asked.
"As a kid," I said. "I remember him plain as day as a kid. I remember images of him as an adult, too, but they were in my dreams."
"Maybe they weren't," she said. "Maybe you remember your time together. I saw you two together."
"What's that supposed to mean?"
"It means I can't believe you've been awake for a week and you haven't called him, Caroline."
"I will," I said.
***
It was three months later when I finally felt whole enough to make contact with Theo. I gauged my readiness on the fact that I felt like I could travel. I had an undeniable desire to go to New York. It was like I had agreed to go in my dreams, and my body simply wanted to follow.
I watched the documentary about Theo's collective, and that made me want to go all the more. I thought about contacting Theo before I went, but honestly, the trip wasn't just about him. (I couldn't let it be all about him because I didn't know what exactly we had in the first place, and I had to assume Theo would be like most people in the world and move on.) I told myself I was mostly going to prove that I was physically capable of doing it.
My plan was to fly into the city and stay three or four nights regardless of how things played out with Theo. I would look at it as a vacation. I would go to New York, get a room, and make plans of my own. I would contact Theo and tell him I had woken up, and what happened after that would have to depend on his reaction. If he got excited and said he wanted to see me, then I could tell him I was conveniently in the same city. And if not, I could simply finish my vacation and go home.
I told myself I wouldn't be hurt if that were the case, but the truth was I had my heart set on Theo wanting to see me. I didn't even know him, and yet somehow I loved him. I watched him on the documentary, and even though I had never seen it before, I had an innate understanding of the guy who starred in it. He told a story about something that happened to him when he was sixteen, and I knew before he said it that it had to do with moving from home and a hotel Bible. It was like I had heard the story before. It seemed like there was another detail, too, something about a bad man tricking him. I couldn't remember it clearly, and Theo never mentioned that part on the documentary, but I felt in my heart that it had happened. I had hints of details floating around in my head in relation to this guy, and I knew we shared something deeper than just a summer together when we were kids. I didn't know what it was, but I knew we shared something.
I began scheming as soon as I felt up to making the trip. Katie helped me find out for sure when Theo would be in New York. She had this big plan about calling the collective and pretending to be an artist who wanted to see about applying for a room.
We had to do it three different times.
The first time, Katie cracked up out of nerves and adrenaline, and ended up hanging up the phone after only a few words.
We waited a day after that one, and the second time she called, she spoke with a manager. He was resistant to putting her all the way through to Theo, though, which was a rude awakening for us. She asked about Theo's presence at the collective in about four different ways, but the manager kept finding ways to be elusive with any details. That phone call was useless, too. All we got was information about how Katie could submit her nonexistent artist portfolio.
We finally got desperate enough that I called the front desk of the gallery and said I had seen the documentary and would like to see if I could get Theo's autograph. I said I was a fan who was visiting New York from Florida. I must have seemed normal enough to the girl who answered the phone because she cheerfully told me that Theo would be at the gallery for the opening of a new collection, which would take place the following evening and was open to the public.
So, I did it.
I booked the flight.
It was late in the summer, and I was happy to escape the sweltering heat of south Florida. I had lost a little weight since the accident, so I went to the mall on a last-minute shopping spree and bought a few new outfits for my trip. I needed the confidence boost sense hopping a spur of the moment flight was an unnerving thing to do, especially for me. It's a mental trip going to sleep when you're thirty and waking up when you're thirty-one, but everybody's got a story, and mine was that I took a really long nap.
I took another (much shorter) nap on the flight to New York. I still wasn't a hundred percent after my accident, but I was well enough to push through whatever I felt and move forward with the trip. I was the same person I was before my accident. I had the same memories and I knew who I was, but I also knew some things within me had changed. I had slightly different perspectives on things, and my brain and nervous system functioned slightly differently than it did before. My shoulder and leg still gave me trouble, too, but they had continually gotten better and better since I'd been religious with the physical therapy. The doctors said my body would likely continue to work out the kinks.
I kept giving myself the option to turn around and discontinue the trip since Theo didn't even know I was coming, but ultimately I pushed forward. I had already come to terms with where I was physically and mentally before I ever decided to call Theo.
I was glad I decided to continue the journey once I finally made it to my hotel. The flight and subsequent navigation through New York was daunting at times, but I made it, and I was ultimately proud of myself for toughing it out.
My hotel was just a few blocks from Theo's collective. I made sure of that when I made the reservations because I knew I would want the option to walk. I had already investigated the event at the gallery that night and knew that it was the opening of a collection by an artist named Zoe Alexander. I had seen her on the documentary when I watched it recently, so I was familiar with her work. She had a different last name on the film, but it only took a few clicks on the internet to find out that it was the same person. It only took a few more clicks for me to realize that I wouldn't be able to afford any of the art at her opening. That's okay, though. I wasn't going for the art, anyway.