The next morning she came in earlier, hoping to catch the man before he left. He was sitting in the waiting room where they had sent him until she arrived. She walked over to him and offered a hand.
“My name is Carmen Barnett. I’m Alex’s wife.”
Immediately he was on his feet, accepting her hand.
“And I am Antonio Hernandez Medena Gonzolez. I am the father of Alex.” He lifted her hand as if to kiss it, but did not. “He has talked much about you.”
“Unfortunately, he has said nothing to me about you. I’m sorry to prevent you from seeing him, but I didn’t know . . . I mean, I wanted to protect him.”
His smile was polite, but the eyes held a glint of humor. “I understand. He tells me maybe you would not approve, but I see he is wrong.”
Then it was true. “I can’t imagine why he would think I wouldn’t approve. I’m delighted to meet you. It’s so nice to know that I actually have a father-in-law to talk to. He’s always known how important family is to me.”
A well maintained eyebrow lifted. “A proper family, possibly?”
Another thought came to her belatedly. Maybe it wasn’t the fact that his mother was having an affair. Maybe this man had a seedy past – or present, life. Before she dived in too far, it might be something she should look into. It was still hard to believe that Alex wouldn’t mention a father. He knew she would accept his family – unconditionally. Then again, maybe she only wanted to believe that because to believe otherwise would be insulting.
She smiled. “I’m sure I wouldn’t know.” She reclaimed her hand. “Shall we go see him?”
Alex slept through his father’s visit, but woke for a while later. His expression was so blank that it made his gaze eerie. She thought about bringing Jonathan to see him, but it might frighten him. At any rate, he was only awake for about 30 minutes. Still, that was longer than before.
For the next week, Alex continued to wake up more frequently and stay awake for longer periods of time, but he still didn’t talk – didn’t even try. The nurse thought his larynx might still be irritated from the endotracheal or feeding tube. When they talked to him, he seemed to understand, but he didn’t respond. Only his eyes gave any indication of emotion – and that not very much. Of course, she had never been able to read the expressions on his face. Still, she was beginning to have a bad feeling that he might have brain damage. The doctor said it was unlikely because of the tests, but doctors had been wrong about tests on him before. It would be such a terrible waste to impair a mind like his.
There was good news though. He could swallow. They removed the feeding tube and fed him a semi-liquid diet of soft food for a few days. Carmen tried to be there when he ate breakfast so she could feed him. He accepted the food well enough, but made no attempt to feed himself. Something wasn’t right, yet the doctor insisted he was doing fine. Maybe it would take a while. Jonathan wanted to come see him, but she told him to wait until Alex was better. It was best that he didn’t see Alex like that, and they couldn’t communicate anyway.
The euphoria of his awakening from the coma passed as other symptoms persisted. It should have been a consolation that they could find no medical reason why he couldn’t talk or walk. It wasn’t that he tried and failed, though. He simply made no attempt - so unlike Alex – at least the old Alex. Maybe this new Alex was the one she would spend the rest of her life with. To her horror, the idea was unpleasant. He was awake now, and improving. This change was not of his making. It was frustrating to work with someone who didn’t try, but if it had not been for him trying to rescue her, she might be the one on that bed – or in the morgue. He had certainly shown patience for her recovery after Alexia died – even when she was being unreasonable. They had promised to stand by each other, and now it was her turn.
One day she arrived when his father was still visiting. Alex glanced from her to the man, his face revealing absolutely no expression. And yet, she had the impression that he was uneasy. Maybe it was something she simply expected.
Carmen smiled at the man. “Good morning Mr. . . . Gonzolez.” She was always unsure which name to use.
When he smiled, his eyes twinkled with amusement. “Good morning Mrs. Barnett. How are you today?”
“I’m fine.” Alex tipped his head back on the pillow and she kissed his unresponsive lips. At least they were always warm now.
His father visited for a few more minutes before saying goodbye and leaving. After he had been gone for a few minutes, Carmen dragged a chair up close to Alex.
“I didn’t know your father was alive,” she said, leaning on the bed.
His eyes wandered over her face, but he gave no indication that he understood her, much less that he wanted to respond.
“Well,” she said. “I can’t imagine why you wanted to keep him a secret. He seems like a nice man.” When he still didn’t respond, she tried something else. “I was wondering if I should invite him to stay at our place.”
His eyes fixed on hers and his mouth twitched. Otherwise, there was no indication of understanding.
She smiled. “I’ll take that as a no.” She actually had no intent of inviting him to the house, but thought it might rouse a reaction. His lack of response didn’t mean he wasn’t aware, and she didn’t want to leave him worried that she might do such a thing – especially if he was unable to respond.
He was awake for several hours before falling asleep again. He was definitely improving in that area.
Lori came by the house that evening. She had a scab on her forehead over her left eye and a bruise on her cheek. Her lip was still mending, but otherwise she didn’t look as bad as expected. After listening to her story, Carmen gave her the latest information on Alex’s recovery.
“He can’t talk at all?” Lori asked.
“Not yet. The doctor says he should recover completely, though.”
“Do you think he knows what is going on around him? I mean, does he remember anything?”
“I don’t know. Why don’t you go by and see him. Maybe that would help.”
Lori looked uncertain. “I don’t know if I’m supposed to do that.”
Carmen frowned. “The restraining order is for Destiny, not Alex.”
Not that it mattered. Destiny was sitting no more than five feet away now. Of course, since Lori had hired the man who stabbed him, it might not be a good idea. Still, she had not intended harm to Alex – not physically anyway. She probably wasn’t thinking clearly enough to realize how badly it would have hurt Alex to think his wife was cheating. But then, Lori didn’t know about the way Alex reacted when he learned of the pregnancy. No one knew but Mums – and she couldn’t know for sure.
Carmen’s attention returned to Lori as she spoke.
“Yes, that’s true. I just thought . . . well, it doesn’t matter. Maybe I’ll get by – after this heals.” She indicated her face with a wave of the hand and then changed the subject.
Later, after Destiny fell asleep and Jonathan went to his room, Lori regarded her thoughtfully. “It must be difficult for you, having to make all the decisions now.”
Carmen stared at her. “I don’t mind making decisions. I took care of everything before I met Alex.”
“You don’t want him any more, do you?”
It was a strange thing to say, especially coming from someone who insisted she was no longer interested in him. But then, Lori surely wouldn’t be interested in him now, in his condition . . . unless she thought he might die and leave her something. That was a catty thought.
She shrugged. “I still want him, Lori. But you wouldn’t.”
Lori nodded and sighed. “I suppose you’re right about that. What will you do if he never gets better?”
“I’ll live with it. He’s my husband, for better or for worse.”
Lori’s laugh was short and humorless. “You would look at it that way.”
Carmen stared at her feet. Lori’s idea of a relationship was probably: use them and leave them. That wasn’t fair. She had endured a lot with Josh. It wasn’t as if she made no effort. In any case, the vow was for better or for worse. There was no other way to look at it as far as she was concerned. Finally she looked up at Lori.
“He might get better.”
“I hope so.” Lori said
“When does your vacation end?” she asked Lori.
Lori looked uncomfortable. “I guess it’s indefinite. I’m on leave right now. I have to stay around until a few things are worked out.”
They talked a little longer and then Lori left. It was hard to say whether she would visit Alex, or whether he would even know who she was. But he did seem to recognize people. He simply didn’t respond.
A month had passed since he had been stabbed. Physically, he was improving, but not in the conversation or response area.
One day she arrived to find him struggling to sit up in bed.
“What are you doing?” she asked as she hurried to his bedside to assist him.
His lips twitched slightly as he leaned back. For a moment she thought he might speak, but he simply looked at her. His gaze was intense, as if he wanted to tell her something. Taking a small tablet and a pencil from her purse, she put them in front of him. He stared at them, as if willing the pen to write on the tablet. She lifted his hand and put the pen in it, fearful that he would not be capable of writing. He stared at the pen in his hand, making no attempt to write.
“Alex, at least try,” she scolded forcefully.
She clamped a hand over her mouth to dam the frustration. He needed and deserved her patience. Tears burned her eyes, but she refused to let emotion take over again.
“I’m sorry. I just want you to come home.”
He was watching her, as if contemplating what she said. Something touched her hand and she lifted it automatically, glancing down. His hand slipped under hers, his palm making warm contact with hers, and then his fingers found their way to lace with hers. For a moment his hand lay there, and then he squeezed hers.
She caught her breath and looked into his eyes. He was trying to tell her something. And he was listening - thinking. Alex was there, he was simply having trouble communicating.
“I love you so much,” she said softly. “I’ll try to be more patient.”
His fingers squeezed hers again, and his lips twitched. On an impulse, she leaned down and kissed them. He lifted his chin to receive her kiss, but his lips didn’t respond.
Such a little thing, and yet it seemed so monumental. It was helpful to know that he heard and understood what she was saying. Was that something new, or had he been that way all along – even before he opened his eyes? She would have to be very careful to encourage him without making him feel guilty. It would help to think of him as Alex, instead of an empty shell.
That evening, when she picked Destiny and Jonathan up, Katie had an interesting perspective on the incident. Bill agreed. It did sound reasonable.
“You and Alex have an unusual relationship,” Katie said. “Alex is the traditional king of the castle and you are – at least to some degree – subservient. Maybe it was good that you said something to make him realize you needed his help. Maybe that’s the incentive he needs.”
That idea was reinforced when she arrived the next morning. The nurse met her before she entered his room and filled her in on his progress.
“This morning he fed himself,” she said with enthusiasm. “Then a little bit ago he wrote something on a little tablet and I looked at it. He said he wanted to go to the bathroom!”
“He’s writing things down now?” Carmen said with a rush of excitement.
“Oh yes, he started that last night. I could hardly believe it. He seems so much better today.”
Carmen entered the room and Alex immediately looked up. He was writing something on the tablet. His lips twitched again. Maybe it was an attempt to smile. His eyes certainly spoke a welcome.
When he handed her the tablet, she read the shaky handwriting. Glancing up sharply, she studied his response as she spoke.
“Sorry for what?”
She handed him the tablet and he laboriously wrote something again. She read it eagerly.
“I’m sorry I have become a burden to you.”
Her stomach twisted into a ball. “Oh Alex,” she moaned. “Do you realize you saved my life? If anyone should be apologizing, it should be me, for letting you walk into danger.” She leaned over him. “Don’t ever say you’re a burden again.”
It was there! The warm humor in his eyes. His lips twitched as if he wanted to smile.
As long as he was improving, there was hope. Even the doctor had no idea if or how quickly he would return to normal. She refused to give in to the nagging question of brain damage. All her emotional and physical efforts were directed toward helping him recover and taking care of things at home.
The next morning she brought him a larger tablet and a padded lap desk. For the next few days, he steadily improved – even to the point of walking on his own. They took the IV off, so he had freedom to get up as he pleased, and apparently he did so frequently when she was gone. Yet he still couldn’t control his facial muscles or speak. The rest of him seemed to have recovered. The doctor said that he thought it might be psychological and Carmen asked if it was possible that he would recover faster at home. The doctor thought that was possible and said that if he was still improving Friday, he would release him from the hospital.
When she entered his room, he was sitting up in bed, a tray of food in front of him. From the moment she entered the room, she had his full attention. His sultry gaze followed her to the chair. She leaned over to give him the usual kiss. This time his lips responded with familiar warmth. She drew back and looked at him in surprise.
“Now who taught you to do that?”
His eyes twinkled with mirth and he reached for his tablet. Scribbling something down, he handed it to her.
“The nurses here are fantastic!”
“You little flirt!” She said with a smile.
He reached for the tablet and she knew what he was going to write before she saw it.
“I’m not little.” “The doctor says you can come home Friday if you continue to improve,” she said.
For a moment he looked frightened, and then he nodded.
“Don’t you want to come home?” she asked.
He pushed his breakfast to the side and put the tablet on the table. His handwriting was smooth now and his hand sure. Yet he paused over the writing as though it were difficult. Finally he started to write. She leaned over it, unable to wait for him to complete it.
“I wonder what Destiny and Jonathan will think.”
It was a reasonable concern. He was different – vulnerable now. She put an arm around his shoulders.
“Jonathan will know how you feel, don’t you think? And Destiny won’t know what to think at first, but she will be delighted to have you home. She’ll get used to the change, though, and respond the way everyone around her does. We’ll all benefit by having things return to normal.” Remembering what Katie said, she added, “It will be so much easier for all of us.”
“His contemplative gaze ran over her face and paused on her lips. It quickly returned to hers and then he smiled. It was a small strained smile, but it was an actual smile.
She pulled up a chair and sat beside him, resting chin in palms.
“I’ve missed that smile so much.” She sighed. “I can hardly wait until you come home.”
His expression was guarded.
“Are you still worrying about Jonathan and Destiny?”
He shrugged, but made no attempt to write anything down. It had always been difficult to guess what was on his mind. Now it would be even worse. He had so many problems to face. Catching him up on things at the office had been simple enough, as someone was there to visit him several times a week. The situation with Lori was another. Surely he would ask when he was ready to digest that information.
Maybe it was the other thing that was bothering him. She leaned back, considering how best to approach it. But there was no good way. Maybe she shouldn’t say anything more about his father. He hadn’t yet. Maybe that was what was bothering him.
“Has your father been in lately?”
His intent gaze found hers, but he made no attempt to write.
“He is your father, right? He said he was.”
His gaze finally left hers and he nodded. Still he made no attempt to converse.
“Why didn’t you tell me about him? Did you think I would disapprove? I don’t. Family is family, and you know how precious that is to me.”
His gaze ran over her face again and then he shrugged. His attention returning to the lap desk, he picked up the pencil as if ready to write something - and then put it down. Apparently he wasn’t ready to talk about it. Maybe it was something emotionally disturbing. In which case, the best thing to do was let it drop. The man had found him in the hospital. He should have no trouble figuring out where he lived, worked or what his telephone number was. On the other hand, maybe he already knew all that. No telling how long he had been in contact with Alex – maybe ever since he moved to Arkansas.
Alex continued to improve and Thursday the doctor told him they would release him the next morning. He had been in the hospital six weeks. It was now the first week of July. At her inquiry, the doctor said the air tube had not caused any physical damage to Alex’s vocal cords. He still thought the inability to talk was a psychological thing. It was difficult to imagine that someone would think they couldn’t talk when they actually could, but the mind did strange things during duress. Certainly hers had.