Page 25 of Mistaken Intention

“Yes?” I turn around at the sound of my name and come face-to-face with Agatha Meadows. She’s the senior RN on duty today and is in charge of the ward. At around forty, she’s older than most of us, but everyone I know here gets along with her. She’s the same height as me, with dark brown hair, which she wears in a short style, curled around her face, and she has a slim figure, which – like mine – is hidden by scrubs, although hers are deep blue, rather than purple.

“How’s Mr. Stanford?”

I shake my head. “There’s still no progress,” I say as we stroll over to the nurse’s station. “It doesn’t make sense. His concussion wasn’t that bad, but his visual processing skills are still very basic. He needs prompting to interpret even the simplest of objects.”

She nods her head. “I think I’ll call Doctor Sweeney. He’s on the late shift today. He can come take a look.” She checks her watch. “You worked through lunch today, didn’t you?”

“I did. I wanted to do some more work with Kayla McQueen.”

Kayla was the victim of a hit-and-run accident nearly three months ago. She’s only twelve and as the result of the brain injury she suffered, she’s been unable to speak ever since. Alongwith some of the other nurses, I’ve been working on her speech, and we had a breakthrough today, with her managing to say the word ‘cat’ several times over. The first time, I wondered if it was a fluke, but after the third, and judging by the smile on her face, I knew it was for real.

“I heard she’d done well today.”

“Yeah… she did. Really well.”

She smiles. “I just wanted to say, as you didn’t get to take your break, you can go home early, if you want.”

It’s not an offer she needs to make twice.

I might love my job, but I’m exhausted, and not about to look the gift horse of an early finish to my day in the mouth.

“Are you sure?” I ask.

“Of course.”

I thank her and, before she changes her mind, I head for the nurse’s lounge.

This has to be the most depressing room on our floor. The patients’ rooms and the hallways are brightly colored, to stimulate the senses and help recovery. In here, it’s like someone lost the will to live – or at least to be cheerful – and they covered the walls with the drabbest of grays. The furniture isn’t much better, being dark blue, and very uncomfortable, but I flop onto the couch and take a minute to myself before heading home.

I’ve been on my feet all day… although I’m not complaining. It’s part of the job, and you don’t go into nursing expecting to sit back and take things easy. I discovered that when I worked in the ER, and it’s just the same up here, in the physical medicine and rehabilitation service. Our job is to help patients who’ve suffered neurotrauma to recover as many of their abilities as they can. I always think of it as physical therapy for the brain, and I’m part of the team here that works with various patients,helping them to pick up the pieces of their lives… to learn to talk, to eat, to walk again.

No two days are ever the same. No two injuries are ever the same. And that’s why I love it.

I suppose it helps that I wanted to be a nurse ever since I was a teenager, when I spent so long in the hospital myself. It was like it was meant to be, and after I switched from the ER to neurotrauma, roughly a year ago, I knew I’d found my calling. Naturally, it can be tough. It’s always hard work, but it’s worth it. I get to make a real difference in people’s lives, and that’s what makes it special.

I get up again, realizing I’m wasting time sitting here daydreaming, when I could be at home, and I go over to my locker, retrieving my purse and my jacket. I came in wearing my scrubs today, so I don’t need to change, and as I close my locker, I delve into my purse for my phone.

I haven’t even looked at it today, but I check it now, letting out a gasp when I see I’ve got a message, and that it’s from Drew.

“My God…” I’ve hardly had time to think about him all day, but it was only this morning I decided to put him behind me… to leave him in the past, no matter how much it hurt. Why is he contacting me now, of all times?

I guess there’s only one way to find out, and I click on the message app and stare at the screen. It’s not a normal text, but a voice message, and I sit on the couch again, putting my jacket beside me, grateful that I’m alone in here as I turn up the volume and press the ‘play’ button.

“Hi, Josie. It’s me, Drew.” His voice fills the room and my heart, warming me from within, although I can hear lots of background noise, too… people talking and a baby crying. “It’s been a long time, and I know I should’ve been in touch before now, but… the… the thing is, I—I wanted to ask if we could meetup?” Can he really mean that? He sounds nervous, but that’s understandable. I’m shaking, barely able to hold my phone, and all I’m doing is listening, not talking. “I’m at the airport… I’m flying back from Rome today, and going down to Newport with Maisie and… and her mom, but I wondered… can I call you? We need to talk, or I think we do. Obviously, if I’ve mis-read everything, you’ll be wondering what on earth I’m talking about, in which case I apologize for disturbing you, and it’s probably best if you stop listening now…” There’s a slight pause, but I wait. I need to know what he’s going to say next. “If you’re still listening, I guess I didn’t mis-read things, so the next question is, do you want to see me again? If you’ve moved on, or you’re with someone else now, or you just don’t want to have anything more to do with me, after everything that’s happened, that’s fine… well, it isn’t, but I’ll understand. This is complicated, and it’s a lot harder for you than it is for me. I get that, and I’m sorry. Truly, I am. I should have said that a long time ago, but I’m really sorry, Josie.” I can hear the emotion in his voice… the slight crack, and the cough he uses to cover it. “The timing was dreadful, and if it’s all too much for you, then just ignore me. I’ll get the message and I won’t hassle you.” There’s a moment of silence and I use it to contemplate ignoring him. After a message like this, though, how could I? “If you think you’d like to meet up, call me. I’ll fit in with whatever you need… whatever you want. I just wanna see you again, Josie.” My heart is so light, I feel like it could float up to the clouds and carry me with it. “Call me… please,” I hear him say, and all the background noise stops. He’s finished speaking and I look down at my screen, seeing I have the option to keep the recording. I press it quickly, terrified I’ll lose those precious words.

I also notice the time of the message, which is just after three this morning. He said he was at the airport in Rome, so it would have been around nine for him, although I wonder whyhe didn’t wait until he got back. He must have been just about to board his flight, after all.

I guess he didn’t feel like waiting.

But can this mean what I think it means?

He wants to see me again, that much is obvious. What’s not so clear is, does he want more than coffee and conversation? I can’t be sure, although he sounded really nervous, which doesn’t make much sense if friendship was all he was interested in. Does someone who wants to be your friend get so anxious about it? I don’t think so.

He also seemed worried that I might be with someone else, too.

As if that was ever going to happen.

So, can it be?

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