“No no no, Charlie. You stop thinking that right now. I know you'd never do anything to hurt my daughter, so I never want to hear you speak like that again. You two love each other, I know that. If we're going to get her better, then we both need to be strong. For Adele,” Janet said, her voice full of strength.
As her words cut through him, sliced him right in half, Charlie realized he could never tell her the whole truth. Her daughter was now some shadow in a bed, locked in a coma. How could he also tell her that not only were they not in love, but they weren't even a couple anymore?
So he took a couple deep breaths, regained some of his composure, then moved to stand next to Mrs. Reins.
“For Adele,” he echoed.
ADELE HAD THREE OLDER – much older – brothers, and her father was a police sergeant. One brother lived in Pittsburgh, while the rest of her family lived in Philadelphia, and by the next evening, they were all in Los Angeles.
Charlie could admit it, he was terrified. Her father was a large, intimidating man; the quintessential girlfriend's-scary-father. Her brothers were more of the same. The youngest played hockey for the Penguins; a big guy who looked like enforcing came naturally to him. The second oldest worked construction, and the oldest was a police officer like his old man.
Adele was the baby of the group, by six years. They all doted on her and her condition rocked the family. All three of the Reins brothers stood in silent horror over their sister, saying prayers and talking to her. But Mr. Reins, a seasoned veteran of the Philadelphia Police Department's homicide division, broke down in sobs. Knelt at his daughter's side and wept for her.
His best friend may have been the one in a coma, but Charlie felt like he was living in a nightmare. He was in constant fear that one or more of her family members would suddenly realize the entire situation was his fault, and would then commence with beating the shit out of him.
Though really, he knew it was silly to feel that way – the Reins treated him like a member of the family. His own parents were divorced and distant, they didn't put in many appearances at the hospital. The Reins, though, rented a vacation home and insisted he stay with them, at least until “Adele comes home”.
Which was looking more and more like it wasn't going to happen.
Most of her injuries were healing at a very rapid rate – “she's always been exceptionally healthy, she plays volleyball!” Janet had informed the doctors – which was a good thing. They were able to remove the breathing tube and dial back her medications. She could breathe without any assistance and her organs could function on their own. Her bruises began to fade. Her breaks began to heal. Her body, relatively speaking, was fine.
Her brain, however, was a different story. She wouldn't wake up. Nothing they tried worked. Terms like “anoxic brain injury” were said, phrases like “deprived of oxygen” and “brain cell death” were tossed about as if anyone could understand them.
Suddenly, the question came about that if Adele woke up – if, not when – would she be “normal”?
“Will my baby have brain damage?”
Only Janet had the balls to ask, and only Janet had the balls to really listen while the doctors told them once again “we just don't know”. The five men in the room sat or stood in silence, too scared to ask any questions of their own.
They were all told about statistics. The longer Adele stayed in the coma, the worse her chances were for coming out of it. The lower the odds that if she did come out, she'd be the same person. They were told to have faith. To Pray. To hope.
Hope.
Charlie did not have much hope.
His injuries started to heal, too. His hand was beyond fucked up – some gravel had gone straight through his palm. He needed physical therapy, so he spent a lot of time at the hospital. A lot of time with Adele. If none of her family was there, he'd pull up a chair and sit at her side. Do his hand exercises while he watched her face.
I let us fall apart, didn't even put up a fight, and this is my punishment.
“We never should've dated,” he sighed one day. “You were too good for me. Why did you pick up the phone when I called?”
“I told her not to.”
The voice came out of nowhere, startling him. Charlie leapt out of his chair, knocking it over backwards in his haste. He growled and held onto his hand, which he'd banged against the rails on the bed. When he looked up, he saw Zoey Blanke walking across the room, giving him a little smile. He glared back at her. She was a close friend of Adele's, but not his – they'd never really gotten along. He was pretty sure she never got along with anybody.
Except Adele.
“What do you mean, you told Adele not to pick up the phone?” he asked.
“She was too good for you,” she echoed his earlier statement with a shrug. “And I knew it.”
“Get fucked, Zoey,” he groaned.
“If it makes you feel better, I think Adele's too good for everybody – including myself. How's my girl doing?” she asked, moving around to the opposite side of the bed and looking down at her friend.
“Pretty much exactly the same as she was last time you were here,” he sighed. Zoey pouted her lips, then reached out a hand, brushing some hair away from Adele's forehead. Her thick brown hair had been left untouched by the surgeons, thankfully.
“She looks happier today,” Zoey whispered.
“Excuse me?”
“Nothing,” she said quickly before moving over to examine an IV bag.
“Did you really tell Adele not to answer my phone call?”
“Of course,” Zoey answered automatically. “You were a douchebag club promoter, I thought you were skeezy the first time I met you.”
“Skeezy!?”
“I didn't know you owned the club you were promoting. You were just some greasy guy sniffing around young women at a bar, I thought she could do better.”
“It's always a joy running into you, you know that? Especially now, when every day is so goddamn wonderful. I always think to myself, you know what would be a perfect addition to this moment? If Zoey fucking Blanke would come in here and kick me in the balls a couple times while my best friend lies in a fucking coma!”
Charlie was yelling by the time he got done speaking. Zoey raised an eyebrow, but didn't say anything, not even when a nurse leaned in the doorway and told them to keep it down. Charlie just glared right back at her, breathing heavy.
“Feel better, Kassen?” she finally asked, and he was shocked to see a small smile at the corner of her mouth.
Jesus, she's right, I do feel better.
Before he could ask what her little game was about, though, loud voices carried into the room from the hallway. Charlie sent up a silent prayer of thanks, but then he recognized the voices, and he got anxious again. His eyes bounced between Zoey and the three large men who sauntered into the room.
“Uh oh, looks like Trouble's here today.”
August Reins, the “little” brother, grimaced when he saw Zoey standing in the room.
Yup, that was his real name. Apparently, Adele's mother had been quite the hippy back in the day.
August kept a wary on Zoey, skirting around her in a melodramatic fashion, as if he were scared of her. Then his older brother, River, smacked him in the back of his head.
“Zoey's all bark and no bite,” River laughed. “Aren't you?”
“I tested that theory once. I still have a scar,” August laughed back, but he draped an arm around Zoey's shoulders.
“Keep touching me and I'll give you another one to match.”
“C'mon, everyone, settle down, this isn't Romper Room.”
Ah, there he was – Ocean Reins. The leader of the pack, the oldest brother. August was the biggest, standing over six-foot-three, but Ocean was the scariest. Charlie got the feeling Ocean knew exactly how to hide a body in such a way that it would never be found.
“You know,” Charlie suddenly had an idea, so he spoke above everyone else. “Zoey hasn't been here in a while – I bet she hasn't even seen the new espresso cart in the cafeteria.”
The Reins boys practically had coffee running in their veins, they lived for it, and Zoey wasn't immune to it, either. They all chattered together for a moment, then decided they'd introduce her to the fancy machine while also treating her to lunch. She didn't put up a fight as the overbearing men took her from the room, but she did cast a knowing eye back in Charlie's direction.
Once everyone was gone, Charlie sat back down at Adele's side and went about wrapping his hand up. The machines around him blinked and bleeped. Her breathing was soft, almost undetectable. When he got his sling in place, he sat back in his chair and watched her face. Her facial muscles would tick every now and then, and her eyes would move behind her eyelids. All normal, the doctors had assured them, and all positive signs. Her brain was working. Her body was behaving much like a person's would while sleeping, which was a good thing.
Still. Zoey's words and the abrupt appearance of the Reins brothers had rattled Charlie. As if he didn't have enough to deal with on his own, he didn't need them giving him anxiety. He groaned and bent forward, resting his head on Adele's hand.
“I'm sorry, babe. I'm just so sorry. For everything,” he whispered. He stayed that way for a moment, then sat up again. She looked so peaceful. Like she was dreaming. The thought made him smile.
“Where are you, Adele? What are you seeing? Come back to us. Do you hear me? Come back to us.”
3
Adele opened her eyes. Blinked against a harsh, glaring light. She tried to raise her hand to block it, but her limbs felt so heavy. Like gravity had increased while she'd been asleep. She frowned and narrowed her eyes, taking her time fully opening them so they could adjust to the brightness.
“I'm awake,” she whispered.
And with that, she surged upright, her body suddenly light. She put out an arm to brace herself, then yanked her hand back when she touched something soft. Almost velvety. She turned to look and realized she'd planted her hand on a flower. Some sort of poppy, if she wasn't mistaken.