A look of understanding passes between us and he carries on. “He was on the side line at one of Dean’s lacrosse games. I introduced myself and to say he was indifferent to talking to me would be an understatement.” Reid chuckles sarcastically. “But, he eventually gave me a few minutes of his time. Probably because it was half time and he wouldn’t miss a second of the action. Anyway, I told him about my dad, about Shane, about everything.” Reid stares silently out the large floor to ceiling window of my office. “When I spoke about how much I missed my brother, how much I wished he was still a part of my life, I think I broke through that first layer of ice. But when I told him that I heard echoes of Shane’s pain in his son’s words, saw bits of Shane’s brokenness in his son’s eyes, he thawed even more.”
His raw and real emotion forces me from my desk and I walk over to him. My hand falls to his shoulder, clasping it gently. “I’m so proud of you.” Reid turns to face me, and unnamable look on his face. Realizing the strange look has more than likely been caused by the fact that he so very rarely hears that someone is proud of him makes me pull him in for a brotherly hug. “Shane would be proud, too.”
“Of you, too, man.” His voice is muffled between our backslap-slash-hug. When he breaks it, I notice his eyes shining, but he turns away before I see too much more – before he sees the same thing in mine.
Casually, and with a lighter step than usual, Reid strolls over to the chair where his suit jacket is draped and swings it over his shoulder. “You’re not allowed back for the rest of the week, now.” He leans up against the doorframe, pointing a stern finger at me.
With a laugh and a look of mock-submission, I nod and agree. “See you later.”
After work, I make my way to the hospital. With a bunch of flowers in hand, I ask if Rachel is allowed to have visitors. The nurse greets me with a gigantic smile. “Sure thing, sweetie.”
“Even though I’m not immediate family?” That’s been the rule since she was admitted, but I wanted to come straight here figuring that’s where Conner would be.
“Yep, she was moved to a regular room just a few minutes ago.” Her nametag reads Keisha and she’s all bright and bubbly. I can’t help but think there’s good news waiting for me on the other side of Rachel’s door. Keisha fills out a visitors pass for me and directs me to Rachel’s room.
The door is slightly open, and with a gentle knock, it opens even more. “You awake?” I ask, peering my head into the room.
“Yes, come on in.” Her voice is full, alert – alive.
Aside from the strip of hair missing behind her ear, and the remaining bandages on her head, Rachel looks unscathed for the most part. Propped up against the headboard, trying to feed herself her lunch around all the tubes, wires, and IVs, she almost looks laughable. I pull a chair up next to her bed, and place the flowers on the side table. “You look pretty incredible for someone who just had major surgery four days ago.”
Exhaling a deep sigh of gratitude, she puts down her fork as a single tear rolls down her cheek. She swipes it away with her non-wire-covered hand. “I had no idea all those headaches…”
“Hey,” I pull her hand in mine, patting it calmingly, “no one knew. It’s no one’s fault.” Handing her a tissue, I smile compassionately at her.
“How’s Conner holding up?” she asks around the tissue, wiping her nose.
I let go of her hand and lean back in the chair. Memories from just a few hours ago of our time in the shower, of how my feelings for him have taken over my every thought, fill my head, spreading a huge grin across my face. “Ewww, gross. Not like that.” Her finger waggles in my face, laughing as she does so.
“What?” I shoot upright, not realizing what I must have looked like. “Oh, uh, you mean–”
“Yes,” she cuts me off. “I mean how has he been holding up since I’ve been in here, dork.” Both of us a laugh as she extends her arm to the side, showcasing the room Vanna White style.
“He’s been a wreck, actually. It scared the shit out of him, but when you opened your eyes the other night, even though it was only for a minute, I think he held on to that hope that’d you’d pull through.” A deep breath escapes her lungs, as if it’s just cleansed her own concerns over her brother’s well-being.
She returns to her meal, more than frustrated with the food she can barely cut. “Stupid fork.” It clangs against the plate as she tosses it on her table.
Rather than laugh, I simply pick it up for her and cut up her meal. The look on her face is one of appreciation. I nearly choke on my tongue when she asks, “You love him, don’t you?” With a casual, nonchalant attitude, she picks up her fork and returns to her meal, as if she hadn’t just dropped a bomb in between us. “What?” she asks, taking stock of the shocked look on my face.
My hands run though my hair, scrub over my face. Elbows land on my thighs, and thumbs twist in nervousness. My head falls forward, cradled in my shaking hands. I close my eyes and sort through the emotions her words just brought to life. In such a short time, Conner has come to mean so much to me. Maybe if I hadn’t also been in therapy, been willing to work through my own problems then this wouldn’t have happened as quickly as it had, but there’s no denying that I do love him.
His honesty and integrity.
His light-hearted playfulness.
His capacity for kindness and love.
Slowly, I lift my head, and look at the girl who’s scared me to death twice in less than a week. Once with the blockage in her brain and once with the blockage in my heart. “I do,” I admit, more to myself than to her.
Her response of a smug, all-knowing smile fills the room with warmth. “Good, now make sure you tell him, too.”
“Tell me what?” Conner’s voice calls from the door, making my heart beat a little quicker in my chest.
“Nothing,” I deflect, standing to greet him as he walks into the room. His look of wry cynicism tells me that he’s on to me, but it doesn’t seem as if he heard what we were talking about.
Rachel fills Conner in on the updates from the doctor. Essentially, she’s a medical miracle. Luckily, she didn’t suffer a stroke from the blockage. In the grand scheme of things, it was fairly small. Though it didn’t feel fortunate at the time, the fact that the blockage was pressing up against a nerve and causing severe migraines was something that ultimately saved her life. Watching the two of them talk with one another, well, I’d call it heartwarming, but my heart needed a hell of a lot more than warming. It needed a heat wave and that’s exactly what it got when Conner made me a part of his life.
“I’ll let you two have some time together,” I announce, excusing myself from the room. Conner moves to protest as Rachel winks at me without him seeing it.
