“The nurse is letting Dr. Olson know you’ve arrived. He should be here shortly to tell us how it went.”
Tabitha crisscrossed her legs in the plastic chair and sat up straight. Jessica thought to herself the woman must be into healthy living like her brother by the way she moved so fluidly. Her beauty was natural, her clothing unpretentious and comfortable. Her classic Birkenstock thong sandals suggested a laidback California lifestyle on Malibu beach where she lived. Tim hadn’t told her much about his only sibling, only that she was instrumental in helping him through the traumatic days after the infamous Super Bowl loss. Jessica liked her immediately.
“I was reading about Emory Hospital on the plane. Stuart says he’s in the best facility in the southeast.”
“Stuart?” Jessica had never heard Tim mention a “Stuart.”
“Yeah. Stu? He’s the owner of the 49ers. Stuart Harding? I flew here with him on his private jet. I couldn’t have made it this fast without him. He’s out there talking with someone from Public Relations right now. Tim and Stu were very close, and I’m sure he wants to make a statement on his behalf instead of getting his former PR firm involved. Has Tim ever told you about him?” Tabitha fingered a leather choker around her neck.
Jessica shook her head, overwhelmed that Tabitha had gotten the owner of Tim’s former NFL team involved flying across the country in his private jet. “Our relationship is fairly new, Tabitha. We have a lot to learn about each other. Everyone around here knows him as Tim McGill. I just want him to get better. I don’t want the news of his real identity to shadow what he did last night. He saved my daughter’s life.” Her voice caught in her throat.
“I know. Stu knows that too. That’s why he’s here. He wants to keep the media on track.” She paused, her gaze softening. “How old is your daughter?”
Jessica smiled thinking about Julia. “She’s four, almost five. She hasn’t said much all these years, but for some reason, after last night, she can’t stop talking now. She jabbers away like a magpie—takes after me, I suppose.”
Tabitha giggled. “God, I love the South.”
“Julia went on and on about how she and Tim were ‘flying’ before the tree fell. Told us he was wrapped around her for hours until the rescue team found them. If he hadn’t been there—”
“But he was,” Tabitha interrupted, placing her hand on Jessica’s arm. “He was.”
The two women nodded keeping their emotions in check.
“I have two daughters back in California. Tim is a fantastic uncle.”
“Yes, he told me. How old are your two?”
“Ava is five and Emma is three, going on twenty.”
Jessica laughed. “My youngest, Jo-Jo, turns one next month. Jill is two and a half, Julia almost five and Jennifer is six.”
Tabitha’s eyebrows raised significantly. “Are you kidding me? You havefourdaughters under the age of six? Tim told me you had children, but I never knew how many.”
“Yeah. Four little girls. Tim is a brave man being around all of us. They adore him. He’s so good with them.”
“He is great with kids. Wow. This makes me so happy knowing he’s been with you and your family. I was afraid of him being alone all the time. He’s been so hard on himself and shut everyone out after what happened, including family.”
Jessica pulled on her fingers in her lap and looked down. “He’s not alone. He’s brought more joy into our lives than he realizes…”
“Ladies? Dr. Olson is coming down the hall,” Trudy, the nurse, interrupted, peeking her head through a crack in the door.
“Thank you,” they said in unison.
After a short debriefing of Tim’s surgery and how well it went, Dr. Olson accompanied them into the ICU where they stood outside a large glass window peering into a small room. The doctor spoke quietly.
“He’s still on the ventilator, but that will come out soon. I know it looks bad, but I promise you, he’s a fighter. I have no doubt he’ll pull through with flying colors.”
Jessica stared at Tim, not recognizing the man she loved. His beautiful mane was shorn, part of his head wrapped in white gauze. Numerous wires and tubes connected to his nose, chest, arms, and hands. Dressed in a blue hospital gown, he was seated nearly upright in the hospital bed, motionless, surrounded by large, intimidating medical equipment, the intricate Phoenix tattoo peeking out from under his sleeve rising from the ashes. He appeared to be in a deep sleep; only there was no way to wake him up.
“It might take him a couple of days to fully come to. That’s not unusual. Once the vent is out and he’s breathing on his own, we’ll move him out of ICU into a neurosurgical care unit. I want you to talk to him. Tell stories. Hold his hand. Anything to evoke a reaction. He may not be able to talk back to you, but studies have shown he’ll be able to hear you.”
Jessica looked at the doctor with wide eyes, not sure what to make of what he was telling her.
“Will he be the same once he wakes up? Will he remember who we are?” Tabitha asked nervously.
Dr. Olson put his hands on his hips and explained. “It’s best to be prepared for possible changes in Tim’s personality as he recovers. Traumatic brain injury affects each person differently. The Tim you know and love could emerge fine during recovery. Only time will tell. He’s going to be on some medication which might leave him a bit dazed. Short-term memory loss is also a possibility. He’s going to be very tired for several weeks and may suffer from headaches or problems concentrating. We’ll have a whole check-list of things he needs to be careful of while he gets better.”
“How long will the recovery be?”
