The Amendment Read online

  “Bring him back to me. No matter what else, please, God, let him live.”

  7

  Katy

  Time in a hospital waiting room ceased to exist. It could have been hours or days that I had been waiting. The pumped-in, recirculated air was stagnant and carried the medicinal smell I couldn’t get out of my nose. The molded plastic chairs were uncomfortable and cold, the linoleum worn from miles of endless pacing as people waited to receive news of their loved ones. The vending machines hissed and groaned, spitting out undrinkable coffee and lukewarm cans of ginger ale or juice. The dull thud as a bottle of water rolled into the dispenser was almost constant since the room temperature was stifling.

  Yet, despite the heat, I was freezing. Even with the sweater Jenna insisted on buying me in the gift shop and slipped over my shoulders, I shivered constantly, tremors running down my spine.

  From fear or cold, I wasn’t sure.

  I kept praying. Begging God not to take Richard from me. From his girls. I couldn’t imagine life for Gracie without the father she adored. Heather never knowing Richard and growing up without his love. My life without Richard.

  It was unthinkable.

  Adrian returned to the office to help Adam. Graham, Laura, and Jenna stayed close. They murmured reassurances about Richard’s strength. His determination and stubbornness. They insisted over and again that he would pull through and be fine. Recover and come home to heal.

  I wasn’t sure if it was me or themselves they were trying to convince.

  All around me were families, like me, waiting for news. I watched relieved parents being led to the recovery room. Devastated spouses collapsing onto the hard chairs, overcome with grief.

  Which person would I be? My chest constricted, pain lancing through me.

  How would I cope without Richard?

  I could hardly remember life before him. Briefly, I recalled working as his assistant and despising him, but then agreeing to his insane plan of a fake marriage to land a job with Graham. Slowly, we discovered each other, and I saw the real person he kept hidden. The one so capable of love that he surrounded me with it. He surrounded me with him. Despite our rocky start and the circumstances of our beginning, Richard had become the nucleus of my world. The center of the family we had created together.

  Without him, we didn’t work.

  An anguished sob from across the room caused fear to ripple down my back at the sound of the woman’s pain.

  That can’t be me.

  Fight, Richard. Fight, my darling.

  I bowed my head and prayed more.

  Dr. Fletcher walked through the door, exhaustion written on his face. He pulled off his surgical cap and ran a hand through his hair. Graham, Laura, Jenna, and I all stood as a unit when he approached. Laura wrapped her hand around mine, her grip tight. She had been a rock for me the entire time, refusing to be anything except positive.

  I tried to read Dr. Fletcher’s face. I had no clue what he was going to tell me, but his expression was grave. My stomach clenched, and I had to reach for Graham’s hand as well to stop from falling.

  Dr. Fletcher stopped in front of me. “He pulled through,” he stated simply.

  Hot tears spilled down my face.

  “He isn’t out of the woods yet,” he cautioned. “There was a lot of damage. He took a substantial blow to his spine and his head.”

  I could only nod, unable to speak. Richard was still alive. He was still here—fighting.

  “He’ll be in a special ICU and closely monitored once he leaves recovery. In the best-case scenario, he has a long road to recovery. After ICU, there will be acute care at first, then once he is stable, he will be moved to rehab. And all this depends on how his brain is affected. We won’t know anything until he wakes up.”

  “Is he still paralyzed?” Graham asked quietly.

  “Yes. It will take time for his spine to heal. The progression will be very slow.”

  “But he will recover?” I asked.

  Dr. Fletcher met my eyes. His gaze was kind, and his tone was frank. “I won’t sugarcoat this, Mrs. VanRyan. I don’t know if he’ll walk again. It will depend on how he heals and the effort he puts into recovery. Your husband suffered a massive thoracolumbar spine injury. It impacts all sensory and motor function of the lower back and spine. Surgically, we’ve done all we could. Now we have to wait and hope for the best.”

  I cleared my throat, swallowing the lump that kept forming. “You said the best-case scenario…” My voice trailed off, unable to complete the sentence.

  Dr. Fletcher was blunt. “Your husband may not wake up. Or he might wake up but never recover the use of his legs.”

  A violent tremor went through me.

  “Or he may recover some use, but never walk without some form of assistance. There could be lingering aftereffects on his brain.” Dr. Fletcher explained. “As I said, until he wakes, there are a lot of unanswered questions.”

  “He will wake up,” I insisted. “I know he will.”

  He allowed a smile to cross his serious countenance. “Keep up the positive thoughts. He’s going to need them.”

  “Can I see him?”

  “Once he’s moved from recovery, and only for a brief time. It may be a while before you can get in. I must insist on one person at a time and limit the number of people. Family only.”

  “These people are our family.”

  “Fine. There’s a quieter waiting room closer to the unit you can go to. I’ll have someone escort you,” he stated. “I’ll be checking on him frequently. If there’s any change, I’ll let you know.”

  He turned and walked away, pausing when Graham followed him and spoke in a low voice. The doctor listened, his gaze flickering to mine before he replied to Graham. Laura led me back to the chairs and sat beside me, while Jenna flanked my other side.

  Graham and Dr. Fletcher shook hands, and Graham returned to us.

  “Richard will have the best care. Anything he needs will be made available to him. Once he is out of recovery and ICU, I’ll make sure he has a private room.”

  “Thank you.”

  He hunched down, close to eye level. “Richard has a long road of recovery ahead of him, Katy. He is going to need you more than he has ever needed you before. You have to take care of yourself.” He paused, looking at Laura, who tilted her chin imperceptibly. “We will take the girls to our house and look after them tomorrow. I spoke with Mrs. Thomas and arranged for her to help. We’ll figure out a schedule, but the girls need to see you as well. You are important too.”

  I had no idea when he had made all these plans, but being Graham, it didn’t surprise me that he would be thinking ahead. He and Richard were similar in that way.

  “Yes, of course. But I-I can’t leave him alone—”

  Graham held up his hand, interrupting me. “All I am saying is you can’t spend every minute of the day here. We’ll help you all we can, Katy. With the girls, making sure Richard isn’t alone. Anything you need. But I have to insist—”

  I pushed down the flash of anger at his words—I knew he was trying to help, but I was not leaving Richard. Not for anything or anyone—even our girls. Simply the thought of doing so caused panic to seize my chest, and the words tumbled out fast and jumbled. “I am not leaving him now. I can’t. He needs me to be here when he wakes. I need to be with him.”

  “Of course not,” he soothed. “You can stay here. We’ll keep the girls—they’ve stayed with us before. Once Richard wakes up—and he will wake up—you can come and go as you need. We’ll tell Gracie that Mommy and Daddy took a little trip and we’re having a long sleepover. You can call them so they hear your voice.”

  Laura nodded, interjecting softly, “The girls need you too, Katy.”

  I knew she was right, except it didn’t sway my decision. My voice shook. “Gracie will want to talk to Daddy.”

  “You can distract her. When he wakes, he’ll want to talk to her too.”

  “What if-what if…”

  “Don’t say it,” Graham said firmly. “Don’t even think it. He’s going to wake up, and he’s going to be fine.”

  I had to say the words out loud before they overtook every other thought in my head. “And if he’s not? What if the surgery wasn’t successful?”

  “Will you love him any less if he can’t walk? Or speak as clearly?”

  “No,” I replied immediately. “All I want is him to be with us. That’s all that matters.”

  “Exactly. He’ll rebuild his life.” He grabbed my hands. “We’re going to get through this, Katy.”

  I met his eyes, startled by the film of tears in them.

  “We have to get through this,” he added. “Your girls need you. Richard would want you to make them a priority.”

  I had no response to offer. I knew he was right, but for now, I had to stay.

  My heart ached, desperate for the one thing it needed above all else. And that one thing was fighting for his life somewhere in this hospital. I had to be close.

  “I’m staying here,” I announced. “Until I know what is happening, I am staying right here.”

  I stood, suddenly unable to sit anymore. I began to pace, adding my own footsteps to the miles that had been trod on this floor before me.

  Until they took me to Richard, this was the only way I could cope.

  The waiting room upstairs was much quieter. Laura and Jenna left to go see the girls and get a few things for me. Mrs. Thomas insisted the girls stay overnight in their own home, stating she could be with them for a few days without issue.

  “They will be happier surrounded by their own things and their routine,” she insisted when I spoke with her. “I’ll be praying for Richard, Katy. For all of you. I’ll take care of your girls. You take car
e of him.”

  Her barely concealed distress tipped me over the edge, and I shut myself in the washroom and fought through a panic attack, begging and pleading with God for another miracle and for the strength to get through this for him. Richard got through the surgery—now I needed him to come back to me.

  In whatever state he could.

  Together, we would handle it. The other option was unthinkable.

  Graham sat, his fingers flying over his phone, constantly checking on me. I kept pacing, grateful for the quiet in the room. At present, we were the only two people and I went around the space in a constant motion. His phone rang, and he answered it, speaking low.

  He stood and cleared his throat. “I, ah, need to go check on Brad, Katy. He’s awake.”

  “Of course,” I replied, feeling badly I had forgotten about Brad in all of this. “I’ll be fine, Graham.”

  “I won’t be long. I’m sure he isn’t up for much of a visit.”

  “Take as much time as you need. I’ll be here.”

  He squeezed my shoulder and dropped a kiss on my forehead. “I’ll be right back.”

  I watched him walk away and dropped into a chair, feeling exhausted. I slipped my phone from my pocket and opened my photos. Screen after screen of Richard, Gracie, and Heather flipped by. I paused at one picture, my thumb hovering over the swipe key.

  I had taken it of Richard one night by the pool. The sun was setting, casting a burnished glow to the snapshot. He was looking right at me, his sharp jaw softened by the scruff I liked, his head tilted as he looked at me. His intense hazel eyes were focused on me holding my phone, a smile playing on his full lips. He held a glass of wine loosely in his hand, while he stroked his bottom lip with one long finger. Bare-chested, his skin still glistening from his swim, and his hair swept off his face, he was stunning in the muted light, his love for me evident. It was one of my favorite pictures of him.

  After I took the picture, he had smirked, curling one side of his mouth higher than the other.

  “Put the damn phone down, sweetheart, and get over here. The girls are asleep, and I want you on my lap.”

  I had acted coy. “Whatever for?”

  He reached over, pulling me from my chair. “Get over here and sit that sweet ass on my knee. We’ll talk about whatever pops up.”

  I had laughed at him until he kissed me. Deep, passionate, and filled with need. So perfect.

  So Richard.

  Would he ever kiss me like that again?

  “Mrs. VanRyan.”

  I glanced up, startled.

  “You can come in for a quick visit.”

  I scrambled to my feet and followed the nurse. She introduced herself as Carol and explained she would be Richard’s night nurse. “He is right across from the desk. He won’t be alone at all.”

  “He isn’t in a room?”

  She shook her head. “We’re a special unit. Limited beds, with a high ratio of nurses to patients. Sort of like neonatal for adults.” She smiled kindly at me. “Dr. Fletcher is one of the best. If someone I loved needed surgery, I’d want him.” She stopped at the end of a bed. “Here he is.”

  My heart faltered at the sight of my husband. Hooked up to even more machines, he was silent and still except for the constant expansion and collapse of his chest as they pumped oxygen into him. I stepped forward, my hands fluttering, unsure and anxious.

  “Can I-can I touch him?”

  “Carefully, yes. Don’t disturb the machines. But yes, touch him. Talk to him. Let him know you’re close. I strongly believe the patient can sense when a loved one is with them.”

  I leaned over him, gently stroking his cheek. They had cleaned him up, the blood gone, the cuts covered or disinfected, the bruises standing out against his pallor. Richard was always so full of life, his skin healthy and vibrant. Seeing him this way was painful. I lifted one of his hands, the only thing free from monitors, needles, or patches and kissed his knuckles.

  “Where is his wedding ring?” He never took it off.

  “It had to be removed for surgery. There’s a bag of his personal things behind the desk. I’ll get it for you.”

  She returned in a moment and slid a plastic bag under his bed. She slipped his ring into my hand. “They had to cut it off because his hand was swollen. You’ll need to have it repaired.”

  I looked down at the damaged ring, my heart plummeting. It was symbolic. Richard always wore it and at times was sentimental about how the circle was like his love—no beginning and no ending. Now it was broken—just like him.

  I leaned close again, cupping his cheek. “I’m here, my darling. You did so well. You made it through the tough part, and I know you’re tired. Sleep for a while and when you’re ready, I’ll be here when you wake up. We’ll face the future together.” A tear splashed onto my hand. “Do you hear me, Richard? Together, no matter what. Just promise me you’ll wake up.”

  I lowered my head to the pillow and turned my face close to his. There were none of his low wheezes, or the quiet, raspy breathing I was used to. Instead, the sound of the machines pumped and clicked.

  Because he wasn’t sleeping. He was fighting for his life.

  “Please, my darling, wake up.”

  I buried my face into the pillow and wept.

  8

  Katy

  The next couple of days passed in a monotony of repeated moments. Richard was monitored closely, his vitals checked, tests done, Dr Fletcher coming and going. I got to know the team of hardworking, dedicated nurses. I came and went, staying longer than I was supposed to, but they turned a blind eye to the fact that I stood beside Richard’s bed, holding his hand and talking for hours on end. I stepped out of the way when needed, but otherwise, I was by his side.

  Graham and Laura were allowed in briefly, both of them insisting on my taking a quick break. Graham had arranged a place for me to shower and change, and I called Gracie every time. Mrs. Thomas stayed with the girls when Graham and Laura were here, or Jenna stepped in if needed. It was a great comfort to know the girls were well looked after.

  “When you home, Mommy?”

  “Soon, baby.”

  “Is you and Daddy having fun?”

  I had to clear my throat.

  “Daddy is working, Gracie. Mommy is helping him.”

  “Daddy yikes that. But me miss you.”

  A tear ran down my cheek. “We both miss you.”

  “I talk to Daddy?”

  “Not right now,” I replied, my voice getting thicker. “Soon. Put Mrs. Thomas on the phone, okay?”

  “Okay. I lubs you!”

  “I love you too, baby girl.”

  Each call got a little harder. Gracie loved Richard, and he always spoke to her when he was away, so convincing her he was too busy to talk was difficult.

  Time passed slowly, yet there was comfort in the dullness of it.

  It meant Richard was still fighting.

  Dr. Fletcher, or Alan, as he insisted on my calling him, appeared by the end of the bed, smiling kindly.

  “Katy.”

  “Hello, Alan.”

  He checked Richard’s chart and folded his arms over his chest, holding the tablet.

  “He’s stable. His vitals are holding. The swelling in his brain is going down. All good signs.”

  I clutched Richard’s hand a little tighter.

  “I’m transferring him to acute care. He’ll still be monitored closely, but he’ll have his own room. There is a far more comfortable chair where you can sleep instead of on the floor.” He winked, having caught me napping beside Richard’s bed, leaning against the rails while still clutching his hand.

  “Okay,” I breathed.

  “We’re going to wean him off the medication keeping him in the coma. It will take him a few days to wake up, and once he does, we’ll know what we are dealing with. His scans are good, though, and I am hopeful.”

  I could barely nod, my throat constricted and tight.

  He stepped forward. “If things go as I hoped, once he wakes up and heals, Katy, he has a long road ahead of him. Everything from the waist down has been affected. He’ll have a great deal of muscle loss. There will be therapy for gait training and strength. He’ll need leg exercises, pool therapy, various other machines. He won’t be able to do stairs, so he’ll need a bedroom on ground level or an elevator.”