Positive/Negativity (40 page)

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I Won’t Give Up – Jason Mraz

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If I Didn’t Have You – Thompson Square

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Every Day it Would Rain – Bruno Mars

Carter came over and put his arms around his brother’s chest as he rested his head there. When he arrived at the beach, the last thing he expected was to see was his baby brother in a hospital bed. He had been through so much last year, but he instantaneously decided that he’d stay as long as necessary—for Declan.

Declan had been in and out of consciousness due to the pain medication he’d been given. He didn’t know if he was aware of conversation, but he chose to speak to him anyway.

“Hi, baby brother. How are you holding up?” Carter’s voice became broken with emotion. “It’s going to be okay…Do you hear me? This is only temporary and you
will
come out of this. You have to believe that!”

As he embraced him, his eyes misting with tears, he used Declan’s love for Aria as an incentive.

“You’ve never been capable of the type of love you have for Aria. The depth that you’ve allowed that girl into your heart has never been touched or explored by anyone else. You have to fight to stay around for her! You have to watch over her—no matter what!” He let the tears flow; tears he learned through his love for Lacey. They flowed freely down his cheeks.

With one last plea, Carter whispered, “You can’t give in…or give up.”

Declan’s nurse came in to check his wounds, followed by his physician, Dr. Dulaney.

“I’m Carter Sinclair, Declan’s brother,” he said as he shook the doctor’s hand.

“I’m Dr. Dulaney. Your brother is very lucky. His injuries are extensive, but most will heal with time.”

“Most? What are we talking about that might not heal with time?”

Dr. Dulaney motioned for Carter to sit so that they could talk. As Carter eased himself into the chair, an ominous feeling came over him.

“I’m not going to raise false hope for you, Mr. Sinclair. Your brother was hit, head on, by a moving vehicle at 50 mph. The simple fact that he’s alive is amazing to me. His injuries are severe; bruising, a few cracked ribs, and a dislocated shoulder. These all have a very positive prognosis.”

He was happy to hear this news, but he knew that something else was coming. “But…”

“But…” Dr. Dulaney continued, “his lower right leg was badly broken in the accident. We are attempting to repair the injuries, but so far our best efforts have not proven successful. The vascular repair is weak and we’ve been attempting to keep the surrounding tissues from becoming infected. We’re giving it our best efforts, but I think you know where I’m going with this.”

“But Declan’s a model. His appearance isn’t just about vanity, it’s his livelihood.” The emotional devastation was evident in Carter’s voice.

“I realize that, Mr. Sinclair, but my primary concern is to save his life. We’re doing everything we can. Do understand that it would be our last option.” Dr. Dulaney stood to leave the room. “I promise you that I’m keeping a very close eye on your brother’s condition. I’m hoping for the best, but preparing for the worst. You should do the same.”

“Thank you. I just don’t know how I’ll tell him.”

Carter looked as if the breath had been knocked out of him at the thought of giving Declan the news.

“You won’t have to tell him alone, Mr. Sinclair. I’ll be the one to tell him with you in the room. He will have many questions and many emotions if that is the route we must take. He deserves to have direct and honest answers.” Dr. Dulaney gave Carter her card and continued, “Please call me if you have any questions.”

“Thank you.” Carter made his way back over to Declan’s bedside. In his profession as a Trooper he’d performed difficult tasks throughout his career. Today, with this news, and the exception of Lacey’s and his mother’s deaths, his career difficulties paled in comparison.

The days are passing by so slowly. Declan’s in agony, and because of that, so am I. I know his discomfort is registering on an unconscious level, though it isn’t visible on his face due to the medications. Somehow I can feel what Declan feels; we’re in sync that way.
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From the moment I was aware that I was in love with him, my life was never the same as it once was. I was an independent girl; I always was. Loving him changed me in many ways—some for better, some for worse; nonetheless, I knew I’d never be the same.

Whenever he was away from me, we were still tethered emotionally. I’d be doing any small task and think of him. Almost immediately, he’d call. I somehow knew that he would. It was just one of those little, everyday things that happen when you become linked with someone’s heart. Declan had my heart. If I could will it, I’d speak to him and have him heal, but the body doesn’t always respond so quickly, if ever, to what the mind wants.

“How are you today, sweetie?” my mom asked as she walks in with the most beautiful flowers. She takes them to the windowsill, placing them there and arranges them so their beauty is captured, filling the otherwise dull room. “I thought we needed a little something cheerful in here,” she said as she smiled. “What do you think, Declan?” Mom asks as she gives him a light kiss on the cheek. She lovingly caresses his jaw. “You continue regaining your strength, sweetie,” she whispers in his ear. Mom then walked over to me. “How’s my other patient? Our beautiful girl,” she said as she wrapped her arms around me. “Are you feeling a bit better today, Aria?” I had no reply. Until I had more information about Declan, I was becoming more comfortable remaining in my numb state.

Mom then set about with her special talent of making a hospital room seem a bit more cheerful. She was a pro at this. She had spent so much time in hospitals with my dad—too much time, in fact. She’d spent countless hours waiting for surgeries to end, blood tests to be done, and x-rays to be taken. She’d seen her share of recovery rooms, waiting for my dad to regain consciousness.

Most people feel bad for what the patient is going through. Watching my mother go around this room, I think much credit needs to be given to the caregiver. They’re the unsung heroes. My mom was just as much a victim of dad’s illness as he was. She loved him, but his illness took a great toll on their personal relationship. People change when they are ill—it isn’t always for the better. The person who is ill or injured thinks that if they distance themselves from the ones who love them they are protecting them. One aspect I can honestly say stayed consistent with my parents—they never, ever stopped loving each other. As I keep vigil over Declan, waiting for any sign of his improvement, I’m praying for the opportunity to share a love like that with him.

“Aria, please, baby…don’t cry.” My voice sounds hoarse and foreign to me.
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Aria quickly snapped her head around to look at me, and I can see the toll that has been physically and emotionally taken on her. I can see streaks where tears have fallen on her face. I’d move heaven and earth to ease her distress if I could. I want the chance to make her world lovely again. I want to do the little things—for her.

As I try to move, I feel a tremendous amount of pain, especially in my leg. Then the memory of what happened comes back—at least, some of it does. I remember running, but I don’t remember why.

Aria’s hair is disheveled about her and my thoughts are distracted by my attraction to her. I want to tuck her hair behind her ear just so that I can touch her face. I want to pull her chin up to look into her eyes.
Her eyes!
I feel as if I am famished to see her eyes and look into her soul.

Aria, I don’t know how long I’ve been here, but I feel the deprivation of seeing the way you look into my eyes, baby. I’m hungry and thirsty to wrap you in my arms and never let you go. I want to touch you and have you respond to my touch. I feel like it’s been forever since I held you. Oh, my Aria
…

Her cracked voice registered no sound when she tried to speak. Taking a few deep breaths, she attempted a second time.

“Declan, I’ve missed you so much…” Tears that could no longer be contained now flowed freely down her face. Aria couldn’t fight her emotions as her reserve of strength had been depleted. Nothing remained but raw emotion.

“I remember bits and pieces.” Reaching for her, the searing pain in my leg nearly tore me in two. “Ahhhhhhhhh…” I bent over with the agony of the pain.

“Don’t move. Let me call the nurse.” She pushed a button and came to stay at my side.

“What the hell happened to me?” I pleaded for answers while fighting the pain.

Carter walked into the room and came to assist her. When he saw my distress, he began speaking in the cool, calm, and collected tone of a State Trooper. I didn’t take that as a good sign.

“Hi, baby bro. What’s going on today?” He said walking toward me.

“Why don’t you tell me?”

“I saw the Doctor in the hallway. She’ll be in shortly to speak to you. Your vital signs are good. Most of your injuries are healing much faster than she hoped.” My brother looked at me with hope and encouragement.

“What do you mean by
most
?”

Dr. Dulaney came in and addressed me.

“Mr. Sinclair, I’m Dr. Dulaney. I’ve been in to see you every day; however, you’ve been in various states of consciousness and may not remember. Do you remember anything about the accident?”

“Vaguely. I remember running and getting hit. I don’t remember why, and I don’t remember by what.”

“It will come back to you with time,” he replied. “You were hit by a vehicle moving at 50 mph. You sustained internal injuries, cracked ribs, dislocated shoulder, and internal bruising, but you’re healing well from those. There is, however, a most serious injury to your lower right leg.”

“I guess that would be why it hurts like hell?” I queried while fighting the pain.

“Yes. That would be why.” Dr. Dulaney shook her head in reply. I am glad that you’re conscious, Mr. Sinclair, because we’ve been attempting to save your leg for several days. Our best efforts have not proven successful, thus far.”

What the hell was she saying?!
My eyes moved around the room. Aria, Jeannie, Carter, and Dr. Dulaney all had their attention on me.

“What are you saying, Doc?” I asked, but wasn’t certain—I wanted to know.

“What I am saying, Mr. Sinclair”—Dr. Dulaney paused, moving closer to the hospital bed—“is that the injury is critical and the situation is grave. There is a possibility of an amputation…”