Page 49 of Tossing It

Chapter Nineteen

Leif

I don’t wake to true love’s kiss. No. The first thing I hear is my sister screeching like a motherfucking wildcat. The next voice is more pleasing, but I can tell she’s upset. She talks about not loving Dylan. My brain seems to be a few steps behind. It takes several moments to process what they’re talking about and what it means. I seem to be entrenched in some foggy haze. It feels like I’m in a nightmare. One I can’t force myself to wake from—knowing all the bad would go away if I could arise from this sleep.

“I never loved Dylan,” Malena shouts. The name breaks me from my black prison. Opening my eyes, I’m met with a dull light. Malena. I see the back of her head, her brown hair sleek, with blonde highlights. It’s shorter and lighter than it was when I saw her last. When did I see her last? The beeping correlates to a hospital. The dots connect in rapid succession. Malena’s hand shakes in mine own. “I never loved Dylan!”

Even in the haze, my recollection is seeping back in. The unexpected gunfight. Aidan. Tacos. Eva messaging me photos. Dylan and Malena. Husband. My leg. The fucking bad guy. My voice doesn’t work when I try to open my mouth. A noise I’ve never heard comes out of me. It’s enough to garner stares from those around me. Malena’s big brown eyes meet mine and it nearly kills me. Again. I open my mouth, taking more effort than opening a mouth should take.

The word comes out, finally. “Why?”

“Oh, my God. Can you hear me?”

Not going to try to talk again, so I nod once.

“I love you,” Malena shouts like she thinks I’m also deaf. “You can hear me.”

Eva leans over and meets my gaze with a tearful look. “I can’t believe you’ve been such an asshole,” she says.

I grin.

“I was going to kill you tomorrow.”

I grin once again.

My mom and dad pace over. How much time has passed? They look older. So much older than the last time I saw them. The worry etched on their faces tells a lifetime of heartache. Mom leans over and hugs me, whispering things in my ear about being so happy I’m okay. How much she loves me. How worried she’s been. There’s a fear there I’ve never heard before. Not in a lifetime of deployments and dangerous trips.

“Ai-dan,” I croak.

“He’s fine. He saved your life,” a doctor says. I’m in a military facility. The uniforms telling me everything I need to know. He leans over me. “You’ve been gone for nine months, Leif Andersson. In a coma, we have tried everything to get your body to work on its own. I won’t give you too many details right now. It must be a lot. You need rest.”

Eva groans. “He’s had nine months to rest. He needs to meet his daughter!”

Malena’s gaze is wild as she turns her focus to Eva and then back to me.

Daughter. Daughter. Daughter. Daughter.

“He’s not ready for that, Eva. Shut your mouth for once.”

My mom scolds my sister, as my dad hugs me which I think is supposed to distract me from what Eva just said, but it’s too late. “Why?” I say once again, touching Malena, my hand brushing her thigh.

“It wasn’t what you thought Leif. Get some rest. Like the doctor said. I’ll be here when you wake up. I love you,” she says, running her hand over my forehead, and into my hair. “We’ll all be here when you wake up.”

Daughter. Daughter. Daughter. “Daughter,” I manage to get out. “Mine?”

Malena cries, her hand covering the lower half of her face. I wish she would move her hand. I want to see her. I haven’t seen her in so long, never thought I’d see her again. Against the darkness, her face is like a beacon of light calling me back home. She nods. “Yes. Your daughter. She’ll be here when you wake up. I’ll explain everything. I’m so sorry,” she says, swallowing hard. “I love you. Sleep.”

I am tired. Which doesn’t make sense, but when I close my eyes briefly it feels like sleep instead of a dark hole, so I let it take me. There isn’t blackness this time. I dream of a daughter. A beautiful girl who looks just like the woman I love.

______________

The bed is up and the curtains are drawn. My body isn’t mine anymore, my muscles are so atrophied that I can barely sit up on my own. My mother has busied herself about my room. Bringing in flowers and magazines and anything she thinks I might like. My dad strolls around the hospital floor with a cup of coffee in one hand. He pokes his head into the room and looks shocked to see me every single time. Today was the day I was supposed to be pulled off life support and instead, it’s the start of my recovery.

“Tell me if you want anything in particular, honey. Anything at all.”

“Malena,” I rasp, clutching my throat. “I want Malena,” I say again, just to prove my fucking voice box I’m the boss. I have a permanent sore throat from the tubes that pumped life into my body all of these months. Sipping water feels like razor blades, and that’s what they keep pushing me to do. Drink water, piss a ton.

Mom looks down to the floor. “She will be here shortly, I’m sure.”

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