Never Let You Go (6 page)

“No,” Sam said. “I’d really like it if you would lie with us, and we can enjoy your company and share what we’re feeling with you.”

Linda climbed in bed with us, and we held each other for the next hour. There wasn’t much talking or moving; we were just being together.

Later in the afternoon, Linda decided to leave and allow us to have the evening and Sunday together. “Anyway,” she said, “I’m spent, and all I want is a hot bath and to pour myself in bed.”

That gave me an idea, and I turned to Sam. “Will you excuse me for bit?”

“Come with me, Linda.” I said and took her hand, walking her to the bathroom. I started the shower, and we climbed in together. I soaped up a cloth and washed her completely, as my way of saying ‘thank you.’ Then, I washed myself while she rinsed.

Both Sam and I sat on the bed while she got dressed, and we walked her to the door. As she left, I realized what a great friend she really was. No one else in my life would I have trusted to do this favor, and I had little hesitation in asking her.

We ordered take-away food, as we were both too tired to go anywhere, and fell asleep quite early. Sunday we spent walking around the area, visiting the Tate Gallery and sitting in the garden.

Distance

Sam left at the end of the following week, and we promised to use the computer phone to speak as often as possible. We connected most every night with emails during the day, and although we could talk to each other so often, it wasn’t the same without him. Sam wasn’t finding any positions in the UK. It was a terrible time to be looking for a new job, especially in London.

A little over a month after he had gone back to the states, the calls and emails suddenly stopped. I tried calling him, but there was no answer. I left four or five voice mail messages that he didn’t return.

Tormented with guilt because I’d never told him I loved him, I didn’t see how I could ever fill the void in my life with Sam gone. I was certain the distance and inability to properly communicate was responsible for Sam losing contact with me.

I called Linda. “I’m sure the reason why he hasn’t contacted me is he’s found someone else. Oh, God, Linda, I don’t know what I would do if I found out he doesn’t want me.”

“Nonsense,” she said. “That’s pure rubbish, and you know it. There is a perfectly good explanation for this. Sam loves you.”

“I never told him I love him,” I said. “I wish I had, but I didn’t want to because I was afraid of this.”

I rang off with her and put myself to bed, depressed and sick with dread that I’d never see him again. My stomach churned and I couldn’t stop weeping. A while after I took to bed, my doorbell rang. I knew it had to be Linda; she’d never let me wallow in self-pity. She sat me on the couch and hugged me while I cried. After I shed my tears, we shared some wine, and I talked about all the good times I’d had with Sam, repeating how much he meant to me. I experienced tearful breakdowns, time and again, succumbing to thoughts of abandonment and being without him.

Near eleven, I told Linda it was too late for her to go home, and she should stay. There was no reason why she couldn’t get up early enough to get home and change for work. She agreed and, as I was finding something for her to wear to bed, the telephone rang.

“
Oh, God,
” I thought. “Has something happened to Sam?”

“Yes. He’s been in an accident…a bad accident. A truck…I think you call them lories over there…a truck ran him off the highway, and he went down a ravine.”

“Is he alive? How bad is it?”

I held the telephone just off my ear, so Linda could listen too. She had her hand over her mouth in shock.

“It’s not good. He’s in critical condition with a spinal cord injury and some burns on his right side. He’s stable now, but the doctors are cautious and say if he survives the next 48 hours, he may make it.”

“How did you find me?” I asked.

“After they had him stabilized him, I went to his apartment. Marisa, he’s done nothing but talk about you since he came back from London. I know he cares for you quite deeply, so I went in his computer to see if I could find some way to contact you. I called his company, and after telling them about his accident and pleading with them, they gave me your number.”

“I’m so happy you did. I didn’t know what to do when he didn’t call or write. Will you call me if there are any changes in his condition?”

“I think this is an obvious question after reading some of your messages, but do you love him?”

“I do. I do with everything I am. I love him so much and wish I could be there with him.”

“I wish you could as well. If you want to come here and be with him, please let me know. I’ll see what I can do. I’ll call you as soon as there’s any change in his condition.”

After I rang off with Judith, Linda held me and comforted me. Hours passed before I fell into an exhausted sleep. The next morning, I called David and told him I wouldn’t be in, and he understood.

The rest of the day was a blur. I needed to get out of the house, so I traveled to London and walked around, mostly in tears. Later that afternoon, tired of walking, I was ready to go back to my flat, but wanted to visit Sam’s favorite place and tell Carlo what had happened. I took a taxi to Fino’s.

Just like the time I walked in with Sam, Carlo loomed a few feet away, greeting early diners. He looked in my direction. When he saw my face, he walked over, took me in his arms, and I collapsed in tears.

When I collected myself, Carlo took me back to his office, signaling to his staff where they could find him. Inside, I dabbed my eyes and apologized.

“You have nothing to apologize for. Did something happen between you and Sam?”

“No, not between us. Sam has been in an accident and has a spinal cord injury and some burns. His mother called me last night after getting back from hospital, and after I awoke this morning, I couldn’t stay in my flat any longer. I’ve been walking around London all day, worrying about him.

I sat, but between bouts of tears, I wanted to leave, go back to my flat, climb under the covers, and sleep. Finally, after not being able to sit any longer, I got up to go to the door, but before I touched the handle, it opened, and Carlo came in.

“Sit. Sit. You need to relax for a few minutes.”

“I’m okay. I just want to go home.”

“You don’t have time for that. In twenty minutes my car will be here, and I’ve instructed my driver to take you home to pack. Then, he will drive you to Heathrow, where you’ll get on a KLM flight to Orlando to be with Sam. Do you have anyone in Orlando to pick you up?”

“I can’t afford that.”

“There is nothing to afford. It is done. You need to be with Sam and I am going to make it happen. It’s the least I can do for one of my favorite customers,” Carlo said with a smile.

Carlo sat with me until the car arrived. Again he brought me to his massive chest with a hug, strong enough to let me know I’d be okay. Exhaustion hit me during the ride to my flat, and I fell asleep, knowing I would soon be with Sam.

Linda met me at my flat, and I told her what Carlo had done, how he arranged the car and the flight to Florida.

“Come on, move your arse,” Linda said. “We have to pack. There are only a few hours until your plane.”

Linda helped me, but mostly we just threw things into a couple of duffle bags. Done packing, I sent an email to David, telling him what had happened and what I was doing. I called Judith.

By His Side

With the anxiety and lack of sleep the night before, exhaustion overwhelmed me. I got a few hours sleep on the two flights. Arriving in Orlando, I cleared customs and found Judith by the little placard she held with my name. I ran to her, threw my arms around her, and found her to be as warm and accepting as Sam.

Before we went into his room, Judith pulled me to the side and told me Sam had tubes and wires connected to him, and his head and right side had large bandages covering his wounds and burns. We had to put on gowns, gloves, and paper hats before we were allowed in, to prevent infection.

She let me walk in first, and I stopped as soon as I saw him. She put her hands on my shoulders. “You can go closer.”

I took a few hesitant steps. He was so pale and looked nothing like the Sam I remembered, but I was with him.

Judith and I stayed with Sam for a few hours that evening before she took me to her house to sleep. The next day we stayed with him until visiting hours ended. Then we went some place to talk, until the next session.

Each day was the same as the last; Judith and I got up, ate breakfast, and visited Sam until visiting hours ended. At night we talked about everything from clothing to movies and, of course, Sam. She wanted to know how Sam and I met and where we were in our relationship before the accident. I told her we were pretty intense and spent whatever time we could with each other talking and walking. She related some of the things Sam told her about us. Towards the end of my first week in Orlando, I believed she had no doubts about our relationship.

Sam’s dad left the family when Sam was a small boy, so he’d had no real male role model other than relatives and friends. I did ask Judith if she thought about remarrying. She told me she hasn’t felt the need or met anyone.

Sam’s condition hadn’t changed much, although he was healing. In a way, the coma saved him from the painful changing of his dressings and the necessary skin grafts. They told us Sam’s face and arm would be permanently scarred, but he wouldn’t lose his sight.

With little progress, I really didn’t know what to do, whether I should go back to the UK or should I stay longer. After speaking with Judith, I decided to stay another few weeks and notified David at work to either arrange a sabbatical for me or, if he had to let me go, I would understand. Empathetic in nature, David told me to take as much time as I needed; my job would be there when I got back.

I called my mother, who didn’t care either way. We never got along, which is why I moved away from home when I was seventeen. I did want to let her know I was still in the States. I also called my father, divorced from mother for the last seven years, and told him in more detail about what happened and where I was. Sweet and caring, he asked what he could he do to help me and if I needed anything. The only thing I needed, I told him, was a prayer or two for Sam. Dad told me he’d get the church congregation involved.

Days later, Dad sent me a few hundred quid by transferring it to Judith’s bank account. Living in a small flat in East London and barely getting by, I knew Dad didn’t have money to spare. The money, he told me, came from his friends at church. He told them about Sam and that I had to go to the States to be with him.

At the beginning of Sam’s hospitalization, Dr. Michaels had told us Sam’s spinal cord had not been severed, but was pinched and bruised.

“What does that mean?” I’d asked.

“For the time being,” Dr. Michaels said, “Sam is paralyzed from the waist down and has maybe a fifty percent chance at recovering some mobility, but if he regains any feeling, it will take months, if not years for a full recovery.”

After he’d been in hospital nearing one month, I needed to make some hard decisions.

I called Linda to fill her in on Sam’s condition and asked her for some insight to help me make up my mind.