Page 63 of Highway To Destiny

Mason looked at me with panic in his eyes. “It’s okay, baby,” I said softly. “We’re here. Just try to relax.” I felt his grip tighten on my hand, and it was strong. Mason was coming back to me.

He shook his head, and I heard him rasp through the breathing tube—his throat bobbed as he tried to cough again. He winced and flitted his eyes around in confusion. His eyes found mine, wide and pleading. I continued to reassure him until the medics came back, which seemed like an eternity.

It was fortunate that Dr. Beauchamp was on call, and within a few minutes, Sam and another nurse had followed him into the room. They asked me to wait in the hall so they could work on him. I stayed outside his door and watched them hurriedly work on his ventilator and the tubes down his throat. I could hear Dr. Beauchamp talking to Mason, but his voice was muffled through the open doorway into the hall.

I was startled when my phone buzzed in my pocket. I pulled it out and saw that Eli had sent a text.

Eli: How’s the patient tonight?

I felt that required more than a text, so I dialed his number as I walked down the hall. He answered immediately. “He’s…he’s waking up!” I exclaimed. My throat was tight with emotion.

“I’ll be there as soon as I can,” he replied, then ended the call.

I paced the hallway, too nervous to sit down. Eli arrived about fifteen minutes later, and I filled him in with what I knew. After about forty minutes, I saw Sam come out of Mason’s room. We hurried to meet her. “How is he?” I asked.

Sam could tell I was in a state of craziness and said, “He’s doing fine, dear. After the doctor did a breathing test, he’s now breathing on his own. Dr. Beauchamp just removed the intubation tube; they’re taking his vitals and getting him settled. Give them a few minutes, and the doctor will come out and talk with you both.”

Another twenty minutes passed before Dr. Beauchamp walked down the hall to greet us. He smiled when he approached. “Mason is doing well and breathing on his own,” he said. “He can’t talk right now because the tube down his throat irritated his vocal cords, which is normal. The sore throat will go away in the next day or so. He has significant pain, and we’ve adjusted his medications now he’s not under sedation.” He paused and looked directly at me. “And yes, you can go in and see him. Just don’t let him try to talk right now. He’ll be monitored closely through the night.”

I shook the doctor’s hand, as did Eli. Mason was resting peacefully when we walked into the room. The other nurse had arranged his IV tubes and gave us a wink before leaving us with him. I stood next to his bed, and Eli sidled up next to me, putting his arm around my shoulders.

“Told you he’d pull through,” Eli said as he bumped my hip with his. “When was the last time you ate?” It made me chuckle because it seemed we always worried about how our stomachs were doing.

“I had a late lunch in the cafeteria, but I’m tired of eating there,” I said as I crinkled my nose. “I’m not that hungry. I just want to stay here with him until visiting hours are over.”

Eli hummed in agreement. “The doctors will tell us more tomorrow about his condition and planned rehab, but let’s try to hit a great seafood place for dinner tomorrow night. This is Seattle, after all, and I’ve been itching for some fresh salmon.”

I turned toward Eli, and his hand dropped from my shoulder. I looked at him with gratitude. “Thank you. Thank you for being his friend and for letting me be part of everything over the past couple of weeks,” I said.

Eli nodded and smiled. “I’m going to go grab a quick bite. I’ll see you later at the hotel.” With that, he headed toward the door.

I realized it was far quieter in Mason’s room as I took his hand in mine.

39

MASON

Iawoke to strange sounds and pain shooting through my upper body, from my shoulder to my chest. I couldn’t move my left arm and noticed it was in a sling, which lay over my chest. Oh God, my chest hurt, and I could only take short breaths due to the pain. My head pounded, and it seemed my brain was swimming through pudding. I was disoriented and confused.

A cheerful female voice sounded from the side of my bed. “Well, good morning, Mr. Hardy.” I turned my head slightly and fought the stab of pain when I did. All I saw was a wall of pink. Between that god-awful color and the pounding in my head, it made me nauseous.

“My name is Amanda, and I’m your…” was all she got out before I heard a voice I recognized come into the room.

“Oh good, you’re awake, boo,” Connor said cheerfully as he walked up to the side of my bed. He smiled, greeted the pink object on my other side, and then leaned over, took my hand, and kissed my forehead. Surprisingly, it made my head feel better.

I tried to clear my throat, thinking it might ease some of the heaviness in my chest. It didn’t. “Wha…where…?” I tried to ask, but my throat was dry and raspy. It almost hurt more than my chest. Connor quickly poured me a glass of ice water and aimed the straw at my lips. I took a sip as I watched the woman in pink walk around the end of my bed and head out of the room. It dawned on me she was a nurse in pink scrubs.

“That’s Amanda, your morning nurse,” Connor whispered. “She can be kind of a bitch.” I wanted to chuckle at that, but my head and throat said not to try.

Connor sat next to me and sipped his coffee, and I took in its intoxicating aroma. I could see he had dark circles under his eyes as if he hadn’t slept well. He pulled out his phone, and I heard him type something.

“You’ve been in the hospital just over two weeks, and I’m sure you have a lot of questions,” he said when he put his phone away and laid his hand over mine. “Firstly, you had some freight fall on you as you tried to unload it, and things were touch and go for a while. You’ve been unconscious for two weeks.”

I stared at him in disbelief and tried to remember what had happened. The only thing that came to mind was talking to Claudia as if it were a dream. “Two weeks? Where am I?” My throat burned, and I pointed at the water. Connor shushed me.

He put the straw to my mouth again, squeezed my hand, and sat closer. “Yes, it’s been two weeks and a few days. You’re in Harborside Hospital in Seattle. They had to airlift you here from the middle of the state.”

Time had escaped me. I had so many questions, but they left my brain as soon as I thought of one to ask. The one burning question I had was why I was in the hospital. Connor started to tell me about the injuries I’d sustained from the accident, but I needed him to slow down. My head wasn’t taking things in clearly. I made him go over the details a few times. The only clarity I had was the conversation with Claudia.

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