Page 61 of Run For Your Honey

If I’d only chosen differently.

But I hadn’t. And here we were.

We’d been at the hospital for hours and had no news about the men and Megan. Nash had been high and was arrested, which was more than I could even unpack beyond unmitigated rage. My sisters had escaped with a broken wrist for Jo and a broken arm and ribs for Daisy, which were being set. For that, I was grateful.

For the rest, I was responsible.

The doors opened and out came Daisy and Jo. We rushed them, helped them to sit, and then we waited. One by one, the doctors came out. First for Grant, who was coming out of a severe concussion and suffering some broken bones—Jo left with the doctor to go to him. Then for Keaton, who suffered a cerebral contusion and wasn’t awake yet. Daisy left with Mama for his room. Sweet Megan was in a coma, and we wouldn’t know more for some time.

When Duke’s doctor finally came out, the look on his face told us everything we needed to know. I stood beside his family and Evangeline while he explained that Duke had suffered a brain hemorrhage and was still in surgery. They wouldn’t know the extent of the damage until he woke, if he woke, but they were doing all they could and would come get us as soon as he was out.

So I held onto his mama while we cried. Waited for the news that he was out. Rushed down the hallway to his dark room where he lay listless, a dozen wires and tubes coming out of him. Sherry crumpled in the doorway, and Buck caught her. Evangeline stood behind them, her hand over her mouth. But I drifted in to him and took his hand, covered in nicks and scratches. His fingers were warm, heavy, and I turned his hand over to rest my palm over his wrist to feel his pulse, drumming and strong.

I folded, burying my face in his chest, hanging onto his hand like it was the only thing keeping me tethered to the earth.

And I told him how much I loved him and how sorry I was.

I only wish I knew if he’d heard.

25

PROMISES I’LL ALWAYS KEEP

DUKE

I dreamed.

How much time passed, I didn’t know. But I dreamed. I dreamed of a house I’d never seen before where Poppy and I lived. I dreamed of her laugh, of her smiling face, of happy times I hadn’t lived yet, but wanted to. I dreamed of hospital machines beeping, dreamed I heard my mother’s voice far away. I heard Poppy crying, heard her talking to me, felt her hand entwined with mine, but I couldn’t squeeze it. I couldn’t tell her I was here, couldn’t soothe her. Couldn’t open my eyes, so I kept on dreaming.

Until I woke from twilight sleep into a heavy, aching body.

My eyelids were too heavy to open, and I couldn’t remember why.

My surroundings came to me in bits and pieces as I realized it wasn’t a dream. The beeping—I was in the hospital. The thickness of my brain—the accident. A warm hand around mine. A voice, Poppy’s voice.

It took all my strength, but my lids fluttered open to a blurry landscape of colors, mostly grays with a shock of white in the middle.

“Duke?” she said breathlessly. Her hand on my face.

I leaned into it. “Poppy… I… ” The words croaked sluggishly out of my dry mouth.

“Shh, it’s okay.” I could hear she was crying and wished I could reach for her. “You’re okay. Nurse!”

Sadly, that was the last time we were alone for hours.

I learned that I’d been in and out of consciousness for three days as I endured the poking, prodding, shuffling, and questioning of a trio of nurses, then the doctor. My cognition was tested and determined to be exemplary, given the circumstance, though truth was, it was incredibly difficult and exhausting. On finally being left alone by the staff, I spent a brief moment with my parents and Poppy catching up on what I’d missed.

Poppy’s sisters had endured relatively minor injuries, thank God, and Grant and Keaton were all right, despite how bad it had looked—Grant had come to right away and Keaton that evening. They’d been home since yesterday and were on the mend, like I would hopefully be too in a couple days.

Megan hadn’t been so lucky.

She was still in a coma, her brain injuries more severe than even mine. Until she woke up, there wasn’t much anyone could do, but that didn’t stop my brother from keeping constant vigil over her once he’d posted bail. I didn’t want to hear it. But even Poppy defended him, noting his sorrow, his pain, his wholehearted promise to stay clean that no one denied. Megan had changed him, and his mistake had almost cost him everything. His choice had almost killed her, the one person who had believed in him, stood by him, supported him even when he didn’t deserve it. Mama said he’d only left her side to go to two meetings a day.

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