12
Noah
My eyes were so fucking dry, it felt like I’d been on a three -day bender. I couldn’t quite open them. And I couldn’t move.
It felt like just seconds ago that I’d been in the gardens with Angela, soaking up some crazy real or dream time with my wife, with the woman I’d missed so much. I wondered idly if I’d fallen asleep there in the grass. Maybe if I managed to get my eyes open, I’d see the flowers and bridges and sunshine.
Or maybe not because I was just now beginning to hear some odd sounds around me. There were muted voices, the squeaking of rubber shoes on the floor, some beeping and a weird whooshing sound.
I decided not to stress about opening my eyes just yet. I wasn’t outside, that was certain. There was a smell in the air, and it wasn’t springtime in Wisconsin. My fingers twitched, and I realized that I felt cotton beneath them. Memory began to ooze back in uneven spurts. I’d been in the hospital. My knee—the doctor was operating to fix . . . something. Tendons? I thought that was right. Maybe.
Yes. I’d been in the hospital for a surgery. They’d just now wheeled me back, so had they even begun operating yet? Or was I already under and this was a dream? It didn’t seem dream-like. I tried to keep my breath even and let all of my memories return.
Alison. I’d texted her just before the nurse had taken all of my personal effects. I’d promised that I would send her another message the moment I got my phone back, once the surgery was over and I’d shaken off the effects of the anesthesia. I’d have to remember to do that in a few moments when I could open my eyes and move a little more.
I let myself drift on that wave for a few minutes. I thought about Alison’s eyes, the way they saw more of me than anyone else ever had. I thought of her laugh, and the way her face looked when I was making her come. I remembered her matter-of-fact stories of her life, how she’d somehow persevered through crazy difficult situations. But she wasn’t bitter. Hesitant to trust, yes. Gun-shy about committing to happiness, definitely. Yet still somehow willing to give the idea ofusa chance. Amazing.
She made me want to force my eyes open. I tried, and they opened a crack. Light assaulted me, and I groaned, turning my head.
“Did you see that?” The voice was familiar but disorienting because it didn’t belong here. “He moved—he spoke! Noah. Noah, sweetheart, it’s Mom. Open your eyes, honey. It’s okay. Come on. Can you hear me?”
Why in the hell was my mother here? She’d offered to fly down to Florida for my surgery, but I’d told her no. I didn’t want her hovering. I’d assured her that the team was taking care of me, that I’d be fine. But she was next to me anyway. Had she flown down as a surprise?
I took a deep breath and focused on blinking. This time, it was easier, and since I was ready for the light, it wasn’t as offensive.
“Noah.” The woman standing next to my bed wasn’t Mom. I tried to make out who she was, but I couldn’t do it.
My lips managed to form around one hopeful name. “Al’son?”
“What did he say?” The question came from beyond my field of vision. I blinked to try to clear my sight, and the woman in front of me came into sharper focus.
She was a nurse,I decided, because she was wearing one of those tops with the cartoon figures on them. She was peering down into my face, her expression intent.
“I couldn’t understand what you said. I’m sorry. Noah, can you hear me? Do you know where you are?”
“Honey, can you squeeze my fingers?” That was Mom; she must have been on the other side of me, where I couldn’t see her. I gripped my hand on that side and felt her fingers against my palm. She rewarded my effort with a small squeal. Shit, why was she so excited about this? I was just waking up after an operation. Couldn’t she give me a fucking break?
“Noah, you’re at Tampa Memorial Hospital.” The nurse was speaking again, and I preferred to look at her. Her voice was soothing, and she wasn’t making a ruckus like my mother. “Do you remember that? You had surgery.”
I managed to move my head in what might’ve been a nod. “My . . . knee.” My tongue was dry and difficult to move, but I managed to ground out those two syllables. My voice sounded rusty.
“Yes, that’s right. You had surgery on your knee. There were a few complications, though, and you’ve been asleep for a while. For almost three weeks.” The nurse was still using that calming voice, but the things she was saying didn’t make sense anymore. Three weeks? That was impossible. I’d been in the garden with Ang, sure, but not for very long. But that was in Wisconsin, in Madison, and now I was in Florida, so it was possible I wasn’t figuring it out the right way.
Everything was too loud and exhausting, and all I wanted to do was to sleep. But first I needed to do something about my mouth. Moving my lips slowly, I croaked out a request.
“Water?”
There was some kind of discussion on this which I didn’t even begin to follow, but a few moments later, a cold, wet swab was inside my mouth. It definitely wasn’t the ice water I’d hoped for, but it did help a little. It alleviated the discomfort enough that I could do what I really wanted and drift back to sleep.
* * *
“Noah.C’mon. Open your eyes. Wake up, Noah.”
The voice rousing me this time was male, and it was insistent. I frowned, even that action making my face hurt. Opening my eyes was easier this time, and when I could focus, I recognized the man sitting on the edge of my bed.
“Hey, doc.” My voice was still rough, but speaking wasn’t as painful. “What’s the news?”
“The news is you finally waking up, Noah. You gave us quite a scare. You’ve been stumping all your doctors for the better part of a month. We’re very relieved you finally decided to come back.”
