A Time to Dance/A Time to Embrace (57 page)

But there was nothing she could do. The word was still making its way into her conscious. Paralyzed?
Paralyzed!
It was completely impossible. John Reynolds had just coached the Eagles to victory. He had walked her to the car and climbed the school stairs to his office. Later that night they had dance lessons to attend.

Paralyzed?

“I’m sorry.” The doctor shook his head. “I know this must be very hard for you. Is there anyone I can call?”

Abby wanted to tell him to call Kade. Instead she stood and gathered Sean to her side. “Where is he? We need to see him.”

The doctor studied the group and nodded. He opened the door and motioned to them. “Follow me.”

They looked like a trail of walking wounded as they moved along behind the doctor down one hallway and then another. The clicking of the man’s heels against the tile floor reminded Abby of some macabre clock, counting down the hours John had left. She wanted to shout at him to walk more quietly, but it wouldn’t have made sense. Even in a dream.

Finally the doctor stopped and opened the door. “The group of you can only stay for a few minutes.” He looked at Abby. “Mrs. Reynolds, you can stay beside him all night if you wish.”

Abby led the way as they crept inside, and only then did her veneer of shock and disbelief give way. As it did, she collapsed in a heap near the foot of his bed, her head spinning.

It was real.
Dear God . . . it’s really happening.

Light narrowed, darkness swept in, overflowing her. “I’m fainti—”

That was the last thing Abby remembered.

When Abby came to, she was sitting in a chair beside John’s bed. Nicole, Matt, and Sean were gathered around her. At her feet was a nurse with smelling salts. “I’m sorry, Mrs. Reynolds. You passed out.”

Abby looked beyond them to the bed, to her precious John lying there. Tubing ran in and out of his body from his mouth, his neck, his arms and legs. A full brace was fixated to his head and neck, making John looked trapped. Abby wanted to throw it off him, free him and take him away.

But she couldn’t.

All she could do for the rest of the night was stay beside John and try not to cry too loudly. Because if he was here, then he wasn’t at home. He wasn’t watching television or eating cereal or grading papers into the wee hours of the morning. He was strapped to a hospital bed, clinging to life.

And that could only mean one thing.

She wasn’t dreaming after all.

Her dear husband, the man who had run like the wind across the football field at the University of Michigan . . . the man who played tennis with her and jogged with her and ran patterns for his players when a diagram wasn’t enough . . . the man who danced with her on the pier behind their home a hundred different times . . . might never dance again.

This wasn’t the kind of nightmare a person woke up from.

It was the kind that lasted a lifetime.

The hours became little more than a blur.

By Saturday afternoon Kade had joined them at the hospital. He arrived sometime between lunch and dinner, Abby wasn’t sure. But they were all there, gathered around John’s bed. Praying for him. Jo and Denny had come, and with them a dozen people from church and the high school.

Word was getting out.

Coach Reynolds was in an accident; he might never walk again. Teary-eyed football players kept vigil in the waiting room with the others. Only immediate family was allowed in the room, which meant Abby and the kids and Matt. Abby never left John’s side except to use his private rest room. She completely avoided any conversation in the waiting room about who had been arrested and what penalty they might face for hitting John’s car. She didn’t care about that right now. All that mattered was John’s survival.

So far he hadn’t regained consciousness, although doctors thought it could happen anytime.

Abby had long since let go of the idea that what was happening was merely a dream. It was reality. But a reality she prayed would turn out differently than the doctors imagined it would. John would wake up sometime that evening, look around the room, and flash that silly grin of his.

Then he’d wiggle his fingers and toes and ask the first passing nurse to take off the neck brace. His throat would be sore, of course—any time a person had a severed trachea that was bound to happen—but other than that he’d be fine. A few days in the hospital and they could walk away from the scare of the accident and get on with the business of living and loving and taking dance lessons with Perky Paula.

That’s how it would happen. Abby was sure of it.

For now, the group of them was quiet. Kade stood anchored against one wall, his gaze locked on his father. Eyes dry, face pale, Kade hadn’t moved from his spot for two hours. Beside him on the floor was Sean, his knees pulled up to his chin, his face in his hands. Most of the time, Sean cried quietly to himself. At times when he would stop crying, Abby could see it wasn’t because the sadness had passed. It was because he was too scared even for tears.

Matt and Nicole had taken up their position on the opposite wall, Nicole in a chair, and Matt standing beside her. The doctor had encouraged them to talk, explaining that John was more likely to wake up if he heard their voices. Occasionally Abby and the boys would say a few words, but Nicole was the most verbal of them. Every ten minutes or so she would cross the room and stand near the head of John’s bed.

“Daddy, it’s me.” Her tears would come harder then. “Wake up, Daddy. We’re all here waiting for you and praying for you. You’re going to be okay; I just know it.”

After a few sentences, her tears would be too strong to speak through, and she would walk around the bed and hug Abby for a long while. Then she would return to her place next to Matt. Occasionally one or more of them would leave the room for something to eat or drink.

The only good news of the day had come that morning when the doctor upgraded John’s condition from critical to serious. “He’s had a great night. I’d say his chances of surviving are very strong.”

Abby had no idea how long ago that was or whether night had come again or not. She knew only that she didn’t dare leave, didn’t consider being gone from the room when John first opened his eyes and told them all the truth: that he wasn’t that bad off after all.

Finally, as the nurses were pushing dinner carts down the hallway, John let out a quiet moan.

“John!” Abby moved closer to the bed and took hold of his hand, the one without the wires and tubing. “We’re all here, honey. Can you hear me?”

The kids gathered closer, waiting for his response. But there was none. Abby studied his face. It was bruised and swollen, but she was almost certain his eyes were twitching beneath the lids. That hadn’t happened since Abby arrived at the hospital.

Nicole ran her fingers lightly over John’s other hand, careful not to bump the various lines attached to him. “Daddy, it’s me . . .” She sucked in two quick breaths and fought to keep her tears at bay. “Are you awake?”

John gave the slightest nod of his head, enough that Sean muttered a soft
“Yes!”
under his breath. It was one thing to have John injured and facing a life that might never be the same again. But to lose him . . . that was something none of them could bear to think about.

Even the subtlest movement now was like a sign from God that no matter what else might happen, John was going to live.

Another moan escaped his throat and his lips moved. A nurse entered the room and saw what was happening. “Move back. Please. He can’t be too stimulated right now, not while he’s intubated.”

She checked his monitors and brought her head near his face. “John, we need you to stay very still. Can you understand me?”

Again his head moved up and down, no more than half an inch in either direction, but enough to show that he’d heard the nurse. Abby’s heart soared. She was right all along. He was going to be fine. They merely had to help him get past his injuries, and then everything would be okay.

The nurse held her hand behind her, indicating that the rest of them needed to keep their distance until she was finished with him. “Are you in pain, John?”

This time he moved his head side to side. Once more the motion was barely detectable, but it was there all the same.

“John, you’ve been in an accident. Do you know that?”

His head was still. From where Abby stood, she could see him working his eyes again, struggling to make them open. Finally, almost painfully, the lids lifted and he squinted. At almost the same time his arms twitched, and he brought one hand toward his throat.

There! See? Abby wanted to shout. He could move! If he could lift his hands, then he wasn’t paralyzed, right? She blinked, and her heart sank. Even if he wasn’t paralyzed, he must feel miserable. Tubing stuck down his throat, his head and neck stuck in a brace, unable to speak. John hated having his temperature taken, let alone this. Before he could pull out the lines, the nurse caught his hand and returned it to his side. “I need you to leave your throat alone, John. You’ve had an injury and we need to keep the tubes in place. Do you understand?”

The nurse’s voice was loud and measured, as though he were a dimwitted child. Kade glared at the nurse from his spot against the wall, but Abby was glad for her directness. Otherwise her husband might do something to harm himself, and they couldn’t have that.

“Do you understand, John? You mustn’t make any sudden movements and don’t try to remove your tubing. None of it. Okay?”

John blinked, and his eyes opened a bit wider. For the first time, it looked like he could see. He met the nurse’s gaze and gave a more definite nod. Then, without waiting for the nurse to speak again, John turned his head and, using mainly his eyes, found each of them around the room. First Kade, then Sean, Nicole, and Matt. And finally Abby.

She had no idea what the kids read in John’s searching eyes, but what she saw said more than any words could. His eyes told her to hang in there, that he was okay, and everything was going to be fine. But there was something else there, too. A love so deep and strong and true it couldn’t have been put into words even if John could speak.

The nurse took a step backward. “I’m going to let your family visit with you for a few minutes, John, but after that you have to sleep. You must lie very still. We’re working as hard as we can to get you better.”

She didn’t ask him about his legs, whether he could move them or feel them. Was that because the staff no longer thought he had a problem? Or because there was no point giving him that type of emotional jolt moments after he’d regained consciousness? Abby tried not to think about it.

Instead she made her way closer to the bed, her eyes still locked on his.
Don’t lose it, Abby; don’t let him see your tears. Not now.
She held her breath and urged the corners of her lips up, where they belonged. “John . . .”

He lifted his fingers off the hospital sheet, and she took them in her own. He couldn’t speak, but he squeezed her fingers. Abby refused to notice the way his feet and legs still had not moved.

She let out a small bit of air, caught a quick half breath, and held it again. It was the only way to keep from sobbing. “God is so good to us, John. You’re going to be just fine.”

His expression changed, and she knew instinctively what was going through his mind. What had happened? Who had hit him? Where was the other driver and was he okay? Abby knew few details herself, so she shook her head. “It doesn’t matter what happened. It wasn’t your fault, John. The important thing is you’re awake and you’re here with us now. You’re getting the very best possible care, okay?”

The muscles in his face relaxed a bit and he nodded.

At the foot of the bed, Nicole gripped John’s toes. But it wasn’t until she called his name that he looked at her. “Daddy, Matt and I have something to tell you.”

Matt placed his hand on Nicole’s shoulder. “Hi.” His cheerfulness sounded forced. “It’s good to see you awake.”

Nicole put her fingers to her throat, and Abby knew it was probably too thick to speak. After several painful seconds, she swallowed and shook her head. “We wanted to tell you tonight, before you and Mom took your dancing—” Her voice broke and for a moment she hung her head.

Matt took over. “We had some news we wanted to share with the family. When we found out about your accident, we were going to wait, but Nicole . . .”

“I want you to know, Daddy. Because you have to do everything you can to get better.” She stroked his foot, her eyes never leaving John’s. “We’re going to have a baby, Daddy. It wasn’t something we planned, but it’s a miracle all the same.” She sniffed twice. “We . . . we wanted you to be the first to know, because we need you, Dad. I need you. Our baby needs you.”

Tears filled John’s eyes and spilled onto his cheeks. Then he gave a very deliberate nod and the corners of his mouth lifted just enough so they knew what he was feeling. No matter that he was strapped to a hospital bed . . . no matter what lay ahead on his journey to recovery, John was going to be a grandfather. And he was thrilled with the news.

Abby didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. Jo had been right, after all. Nicole’s glowing look was exactly what her mother-in-law had guessed it to be. She was pregnant! Here, in the midst of Abby’s greatest nightmare, was a ray of hope, a reason to celebrate.

The conflicting emotions warred within her. She left John’s side and put her arms around Matt and Nicole. “I can’t believe it. How long have you known?”

“A few weeks. We wanted to make sure before we told anyone.”

Congratulations came from Sean and Kade, though their voices were hardly enthusiastic. Abby let her head rest on Nicole’s shoulder. She was too drained to do anything but stand there, motionless. She and John were going to be grandparents. It was something they’d talked about since they got married, only always it had seemed like some far-off stage. An event that happened to other people, old people. When Nicole got married, they knew the possibility was closer than ever, but still . . .

No one had expected Nicole to get pregnant so soon. No one except Jo.