Page 94 of Boundaries

I took a few more gasps of air, Nixon’s chest was calming, his scent so like Mason’s.

Mason, please be OK. I need you. You don’t know how I feel yet. I must tell you… unfairness was stamping all over my heart.

I pulled away from Nixon and shot him a look of thanks before turning back to the doctor, who now wore an understanding expression.

“Please, try to be positive. We don’t know the full extent of the situation yet. The coma is temporary and for his safety. It is used to protect the brain from any swelling. It shouldn’t be seen as a negative thing.”

“Could he die during this procedure?” I stuttered; not sure I wanted an answer to that question.

The doctor offered me a warming smile but it did nothing, “We are doing everything we can. Please just bear with us. I have asked a staff nurse to take you to a private waiting room which is next to the surgery ward. You can stay in there and it may be more comfortable if you need some sleep. Once the procedure is over, I or a colleague will come and update you all.”

Closing my eyes, I released a breath of pain, scrunching my fingers into balls by my sides. It wasn’t good enough! I wanted an answer now, a reassurance that Mason would be fine.

Seeing that I was about to freak the hell out, my brother-in-law intervened, “Thank you doctor,” Nixon responded in a calm voice. The tall wiry man nodded and then introduced us to the staff nurse who would take us to the other room.

Darkness draped over my spirits as she escorted us over to a small, private room. I was thankful to be out of the other area as it was becoming quite full. One of the guys in there had busted his face up and reeked of alcohol. I felt it disrespectful that he should be there getting attention when he’d caused his own injuries and my Mason was faultlessly battling for his life.

As we entered the room, Mason’s mother was in there. She shot to her feet and ran over to Nixon and Seth, hugging them both. Melanie McKenna was a tall thin lady with dark grey hair. She was pale as she turned to look down at me. This was the closest I had been to her apart from one time when I’d seen her in the village. She’d blanked me back then, but I suppose I’d done the same. Now she was staring at me like she was seeing me for the first time. Her chocolate colour eyes searched my features. I must have looked a fright.

“Hello Amy, it’s good to finally meet you in person,” she said. Her voice was soft and comforting and my chest surged as I thought about how much I now wanted my mother there.

“You too.” We gave each other that look that said it would have been nicer to meet under better circumstances, and she gave my arm a quick squeeze. She had to know about Mason and me. Had he told her about me or had she guessed? She looked like a shrewd woman. I had always ached to know the story of her past and her relationship with Mason’s father.

My tongue felt heavy in my mouth as we moved further into the room. Nixon and Seth stood with their backs against the wall, both of their faces were pale and drawn. They were plainly suffering too, but doing that ‘I am a tough man’ thing boys did. Mason had done the same thing that day his father had busted his lip.

“So, they are going to operate on our boy,” Melanie explained, stating what we already knew.

The fact that she called Mason ‘our’ boy made me well up again, but before the tears could fall, she pulled me into her arms and I welcomed her hold with every part of my body.

The minutes bled into hours and I felt numb.

Eventually, Boyd arrived with Mitchell. He was in one of the hospital’s wheelchairs and he looked frail and confused.

Boyd explained that my parents were on their way back to the house and that Jenna, Chrissy and Mattie were at Lamb Hill and would meet them there. He said that only part of the house had been destroyed and that none of the land had been touched. I was grateful for that news. I wondered if the flames had made it into the cellar, to my darkroom. If I’d lost all my photography work, I’d be crushed.

Melanie and Mitchell spoke quietly in the corner and Nixon spent most of his time on his phone, texting Jenna, I imagined.

Both Seth and Boyd attempted to close their eyes a few times but didn’t sleep. We all helped ourselves to the water provided to the point where cups were eventually strewn around the room.

Mitchell glanced my way as if he didn’t know me and, he didn’t, not really. His skin was crinkled like leather. I knew he was ill now but I still despised him for how he’d treated Mason. My Mason.

The waiting was agony, the not-knowing part fuelling my angst.

I felt desperate, as I hadn’t had the chance to tell Mason how I felt. He needed to know that I loved him and couldn’t live without him.

Why had I been so stubborn and so blind to the truth all those years? We must have cared for each other, even when we were children. And then when we became adults, those feelings morphed and deepened? That’s the way I now saw it anyway. I wondered what Mason would think.

Why had I been so blind and so bitchy and why had we both wasted so much time. Now it felt like our journey together was over before it had even fully begun.

The weight of possible outcomes sat heavily on my chest.

I drew my legs up onto my seat. Suddenly feeling cold, shrinking against the light cushioning.

My eyes were still gritty and I pulled Nixon’s shirt further around my knees, before finally falling asleep…

Someone was gently shaking my arm and my eyes fluttered open. I lifted a hand to shade my vision from the harshness of the lights, before I realised, I was still at the hospital.

I shot upright, “Mason!”

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