Page 100 of Tangled Up

A nurse showed me where the supplies are located, and I’ve been at Carly’s bedside all night, talking about anything I can think of, holding her hand, and apparently falling asleep.

Every few hours, the night nurse would stop in and check her vitals and give me a compassionate smile.

By outward appearance, she’s fine and stable. We’ve scheduled another scan this morning to be sure there are no changes in her brain, and for now, I’m just mentally begging her to wake up. I might even have said it out loud a few times in the darkest hours before dawn.

Twenty-four, eighty-seven—the numbers are on repeat in my brain. I know from my medical training eighty-seven percent of patients who don’t recover from a coma in the first twenty-four hours are likely to die or remain in a permanent vegetative state.

It’s fucking medical textbook, and I can’t make it stop.

I won’t let that happen.

I take the coffee and breakfast wrap from Henry, trying to distract myself from the numbers, from my ominous sense I should have insisted we fly her to Tampa. At least if I was at Bayside, I’d have the guys around me.

“Thanks, man, where did you find this?”

“Starbucks back in Orangeville. We’re actually not that far from civilization out here.”

I lift my chin and nod. “Just far enough.”

My stomach is too tight to eat, but I know I need to have something. It’s been almost a day since I’ve eaten anything, and I need to keep my strength up.

During the night I texted with Asher and Greg to see if they had any thoughts or advice for bringing her around.

Talk to her, is all they said, and it’s all I’ve been doing.

“Hey, Carls, I’ve got your favorite breakfast here, Egg McMuffin from McDonalds.” Henry rattles the paper bag so she can hear it. “I even got extra hash browns for you to watch me eat.”

When we were kids, he’d always steal her hash browns, and I drop my chin as a rush of desperation overwhelms me.

God, she’s got to wake up. I’ve started desperately praying in my mind. Nothing else matters at this point.

All the shit I was holding onto, the things I worried about her knowing or confessing, forgiving, none of it matters if she doesn’t open those pretty eyes.

Henry’s expression is pained, and he steps to the door. “One of the nurses said they have a pretty nice chapel around back with a reflecting pool and a waterfall. I’m going to check it out.”

He’s afraid, and it hits me harder than I expected. Reaching out, I cover her hand with mine and try again, now that I’m awake and have some coffee.

“Remember the time I took you fishing, and I baited your hook the whole day?” I rub my fingers over my eyes. “Henry was so mad. He said you couldn’t come with us if you didn’t do it, but I wanted you there. Hell, I even took your one fish off the line when you caught it.”

It’s silent. Just the beeping of monitors.

“I loved you then, but I was afraid to say it. It seemed like a good way to get a punch in the nose from your brother.” I clear my throat, listening to silence before trying again. “I can’t remember if I told you, when Mr. C came into the ER in Tampa, the day that started all of this, when he woke up, he asked if I was stealing his watermelons. That was the best watermelon, remember? I wonder if it was because it was so hot outside. Or if it was because we stole it.”

No response. Only constant beeping.

The clock ticks down, another hour closer to the deadline. Another lead weight dropping in my stomach. Fabian arrives mid-morning to do another brain scan. It’s after lunch when she lets me know the results, the swelling has receded. She should wake up at any time.

Only she doesn’t.

By mid-afternoon, I’m losing my mind. My throat aches, and my own brain is dead from digging through the archives, searching for anything I can find that might bring her around.

My phone rings, and I quickly tap the face when I see it’s Jessica.

“Any news?” Her voice is urgent, and I imagine she’s there with Aunt Viv.

I try to find the most positive spin to put on this. “She’s resting. The swelling has gone down, so she could come around at any time.”

“Resting? You mean she’s still in a coma?”

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