Chapter Thirty-Three
Darren
That night was the most miserable night in recent memory. I sat in a chair beside Dickie’s bed wishing he would wake up so that we could talk. A weight of guilt lay on me that I couldn’t shrug off no matter how hard I tried. The night seemed unnaturally dark, the lights overhead harsh and unyielding.
It was one of those nights that you just have to live through, knowing that the only relief for your misery is time. I wished time would move ahead two or three days when Dickie had woken up and Penny had calmed down. But for now, all I could do was wait. In the past when I was miserable I could usually go to sleep and know things would look better in the morning, but tonight even that was no help. I kept waking up every few minutes with a pain in my side, remembering anew how I had put Dickie into a coma and being pummeled by fresh waves of guilt.
I finally fell asleep at around four and woke at around eleven. Doctor Ware stood over his bed reading some inscrutable numbers on the monitor. She beamed when she saw me stirring.
“Did you sleep well?”
As though in answer, I tried to stand up and found that my foot was asleep. A painful feeling of pins and needles shot through me, and I fell back into the chair, wincing.
“We have patients who do that a lot,” she said. “Just give it a few minutes, and when the nerves decompress, the feeling will return to your feet.”
“Thanks.” I motioned to the sleeping Dickie. “How’s he doing?”
“Still unconscious, but that’s by design. Right now, this coma is the safest place for him. It’s going to be a few days until we can bring him out.”
“And then will he be okay? Will he be alert and able to talk?”
“That I couldn’t tell you,” she said with a shake of her head. “It’s going to be touch-and-go here for a while, but I’m holding out hope that we haven’t seen the last of him.”
She turned and left the room without elaborating, and I sat there watching him for a few moments in silence. His eyelids fluttered rapidly as though he was dreaming. I reached for his hand and held it in my own for a moment—something he would never have let me do under normal circumstances. It felt cold to the touch.
I was startled out of my thoughts by the sound of a knock on the door. It was a shock to see Penny peering through the window looking nervous and hopeful.
Confused, I motioned for her to come in.
She was wearing a low-necked sleeveless shirt the color of guacamole and a pair of knee-length shorts. I could tell she had been crying on her way over because her mascara was running.
“You mind if I come in?” she asked quietly.
“Please.”
Looking encouraged, she crept in and shut the door slowly as though fearful of waking Dickie. “Hey, I read about what happened. How’s he doing?”
“Lucky to be alive,” I said, “though we don’t know how long that will last. The only good news is that the doctors are the ones who put him in a coma, and they’ll decide when they want to take him out of it. After that, he should wake up, though it’s anyone’s guess whether he’ll be coherent enough to talk.”
“Oh, I hope so,” she moaned, staring sadly down at his prone form. “There have been enough medical emergencies this weekend.”
“I just feel so bad.” I had wanted to say this to someone all night; speaking the words felt like an exhalation. “I was on the strip getting ready for the race when I heard the news about your dad. I came running over here as soon as I heard. If I hadn’t encouraged Dickie to take my place, this would never have happened.”
“Yes, but you didn’t force Dickie into that car,” Penny pointed out. “You can’t blame yourself for his accident any more than I can blame myself for my dad’s death.”
“It’s not the same.” I wiped my face with the back of my hand. “Your dad had cancer.”
“And you don’t think I found ways to blame myself for that? You’re not the only one feeling guilty here.”
“But that’s totally irrational,” I told her, not for the first time. “You didn’t give your dad cancer.”
“No, but I still feel massive amounts of shame and guilt over it. You don’t think I’ve been blaming myself this entire week, wondering what I could have done to prevent him from dying? In the end, it was Nic who brought me out of it. She said it wasn’t productive and there was no use blaming myself for things I had no control over.”
“But it’s different,” I said, “because if I had made different choices yesterday, we wouldn’t be standing here talking over his unconscious body. Dickie was never the best racer, but I still thought he had a decent chance of beating Adam and winning that two hundred thousand, or I wouldn’t have pushed him to take my place. I let my greed get the better of me and look where it landed us.”
“Well, you both did,” said Penny. Setting her purse down in the chair where I had slept, she came over and stroked my arm. “I’m sure Dickie wanted some of that money, or he would never have agreed to be in the race. It was a silly mistake, but one that I don’t think either of you is likely to make again. I think now would be a good time for you to give up racing before it gets you imprisoned or killed.”
“Maybe.” I didn’t want to commit just yet, especially not now when I was weak with emotion and could easily be pushed into making a decision I might regret later. “I don’t like what it did to him, but I’m careful. I would never have wrecked the car like this.”
“There’s a reason they’re called accidents,” Penny said softly.
Neither of us spoke for a moment. Finally, she added, “I’m going to go back home and make some breakfast. Would you like me to bring you something? Just go ahead and say yes because I’m doing it anyway.”
“Please.” It felt wonderful to bathe in her kindness again. “I haven’t eaten since breakfast yesterday, and I don’t plan on eating out of the vending machine.”
“Well, you don’t have to worry,” she said. “I’ve always got you.” She turned to leave, but before she had taken more than a few steps, I grabbed her by the arm and pulled her close to me. Her fear and surprise subsided quickly when she saw the look in my eyes, all gratitude and hunger.
“It’s good to have you back, girl,” I said and kissed her warmly on the lips and face.
We pulled back for a moment, and I studied her face. Her eyes, already dilated in the half-light, widened with unspoken emotions. Her lip trembled, and tears formed in the corners of her eyes. Then, before I really knew what was happening, she had pulled me tight into a hug and was sobbing into my chest.
“I know I sent you away yesterday,” she said, “and I’m so sorry. I’ll never, ever do that again.” She sniffed loudly, her small body shaking against mine. “You’ve no idea how much I missed you.”
“Don’t think anything of it,” I whispered, breathing in the scent of her, the scent of jasmine and lilacs. “Now we’ve had our first fight, and it wasn’t so bad, was it?”
“It was, it was awful,” moaned Penny.
“I didn’t like it, either. But we got through it, and today is going to be better than yesterday.”
“No day will ever be as bad as yesterday,” she said, and I realized she was shaking with laughter.