Perchance (30 page)
“You just couldn’t let me bask in my success could you?” She laughed as she berated me.
“
No, I mean it’s great. You started out facing six years of school and now you’re down to two. Say it with me, optimism.”
“Optimism.” She chanted the word like she was a monk at a funeral.
I went back to the stove and finished putting together dinner while she changed clothes and got out the plates.
“So how was work?” She plated spaghetti and salad for us both.
“Nothing different. Dad is planning on retiring soon. He’s looking ragged.
And I think he wants more time off since he and Mom are dating or whatever again. It’s so weird that my parents are dating.
”
“Hmmmm…
I think it’s cute.
”
“Ok, spill it. I know there’s something you want to tell me so spit it out.”
She twirled a noodle before she started.
“I was going to tell you that since I was graduating, well, I went off of the pill about six weeks ago.”
The blood drained from my face as water drains from a sink.
“Are you sure? You still have two years of school.”
“I know,” she was almost whispering, “but I’m ready and your mom lives here now and Aunt Brenda is retired and they’ve offered to help. I know I can do both.”
My Mom had moved here shortly after Remi and I got married that summer after she came back from Texas
and that’s when Mom and Dad started their dating thing
.
“Plus, there’s me.” I added sarcastically. She still had a tendency to try to do things on her own. Sometimes it burst my ego but I loved her independence at the same time.
She got up from the table and came to sit in my lap.
“No, that’s where you’re wrong Mr. Neal. There’s us first and then if we need help they’re there.”
I could hear the sound of an inflating ego like blowing up a helium balloon.
“Mrs. Neal, you are the best thing that has ever happened to me.”
“So,” she kissed her way along the side of my neck “Are you done with dinner?”
I shook my head and whispered
the words that she hated to hear.
“Not yet.”
If you enjoyed this book, look for Emerge
,
also by Lila Felix.
Find Lila Felix:
www.authorlilafelix.blogspot.com
Twitter: @AuthorLilaFelix
Facebook: Lila Felix
Now, please enjoy an excerpt from
Shelly Crane's
new contemporary, Wide Awake, due out early 2013.
Chapter One
Someone was speaking. No, he was
yelling
. It sounded angry, but my body refused to cooperate with my commands to open my eyes and be nosy. I tried to move my arms and again, there was no help from my limbs. It didn't strike me as odd until then.
I heard, "All I'm saying is that you need to be on time from now on." Then a slammed door startled me. I felt my lungs suck in breath that burned and hissed unlike anything I'd ever felt before. It was as if my lungs no longer
performed that function and were
protesting.
Then I heard a noise, a
gaspy
sound, and my cheek was touched by warm fingers. "Emma?" I tried to pry my eyes and felt the glue that seemed to hold them hostage begin to let go. "Emma?"
Who was Emma? I felt the first sliver of light and tried to lift my arm to shield myself, but it wouldn't budge. Whoever was in the room with me must've seen me squint, because the light was doused almost immediately to a soft glow. My eyelids fluttered without strength. I tried to focus on the boy before me. Or maybe he was a man. He was somewhere in between. I didn't know who he was, but he seemed shocked that I was looking
up
at him.
"Emma, just hold on. I'm your physical therapist and you're in the hospital. Your…" he looked back toward the door, "parents aren't here right now, but we'll call them. Don't worry."
I looked quizzically at him. What was he was going on and on about? That was when I saw the tubes on my chest connecting my face to the monitors. The beeping felt like a knife through my brain. I looked at the stranger's hazel eyes and pleaded with him to explain.
He licked his lips and said softly, "Emma, you were in an accident. You've been in a coma. They weren't sure if…you'd wake up or not."
Of everything he just said, the only thing I could think was, 'Who's Emma?'
He leaned down to be more in my line of sight. "I'll be right back. I promise." Then he pressed a button on the side of the bed several times and went to the door. He was yelling again. I tried to shift my head to see him, but nothing of my body felt like mine. I started to panic, my breaths dragging from my lungs.
He came back to me and placed a hand on my arm. "Emma, stay calm, OK?"
I tried, I really did, but my body was freaking out without my permission. And then his face was suddenly surrounded by so many
other's
faces. He was pushed aside and I felt my panic become uncontrollable.
I thrashed as much as I could, but felt the sting in my arm as they all chattered around me. They wouldn't even look me in the eye. That man…boy was the only one who had even acknowledged me at all. The rest of them just scooted around each other like I wasn't important or wouldn't understand their purpose, like it was a job. Then I realized where I was and guessed it
was
their job.
My eyelids began to fight with me again and I cursed whoever it was that has stuck the needle into my arm. But as the confusion faded and the air become fuzzy, I welcomed the drugs that slid through my veins. It made the faces go away. It made my eyes close and I dreamed of things I knew nothing about.
My eyes felt lighter this time when they opened themselves. The fluttering felt more natural and I felt more alive. I could turn my head this time, too, and when I did I saw something disturbing.
There were strangers crying at my bedside.
The woman caught me looking her way and yelled, "Thank the Lord!" in a massive flourish that had me recoiling. She threw herself dramatically across the side of my bed and sobbed. I shifted my gaze awkwardly to the man and waited as she stood slowly, never taking his eyes from mine. "
Emmie
?" When I squinted he said, "Emma?"
When I went to speak this time, the tubes had been removed. I let my tongue snake out to taste my lips. They were dry. I was thirsty on a whole new level and glanced at the coffee cup stuck between his palms. He looked at it, too, and guessed what I wanted. He sprung to set the cup down quickly and fill an impossible small cup with water from a plastic pitcher. I tried to take it from his fingers, and he must have sensed I needed help, because he held my hands with his and I gulped it down in one swig with his help. My arms ached at the small workout they were getting and again I wondered what I was doing there.
I made him fill it three more times before I was satisfied and then leaned back to the bed. I decided to try to get some answers. I started slow and careful. "Where am I?" I said. It felt like my voice was strong, but the noise that came out was raspy and grated.
"You're in the…hospital,
Emmie
," the woman sobbing on my bed explained. She smiled at me, her running mascara marring her pretty painted face. "We thought we'd never get you back."
That stopped everything for me.
"What do you mean?" I whispered.
She frowned and glanced back at the man. He frowned, too. "What do you remember about your accident, sweetheart?"
I shook my head. "I don't remember anything." I thought hard. Actually, that statement was truer than I had intended it to be. I couldn't remember…anything. I sucked in a breath. "Who are you? Do you know something about my…accident?"
The woman's devastated face told me she knew everything, but there was apparently something I was missing. She threw her face back onto my bed and sobbed so loudly that the nurse came in. She looked at the man there. He glanced to me, a little hint of some betrayal that I couldn't understand was in his eyes, before looking back to the nurse. "She must have amnesia."
The nurse ignored him and took my wrist in her hand to check my pulse. I wanted to glare at her. What the heck did my pulse have to do with anything at that moment? "Vitals are stable. How do you feel?" she asked me.
How did I feel? Was she for real? "I feel like there's something everyone isn't telling me."
She smiled sympathetically, a side of wryness there. "I'll get the doctor."
I looked up at her. She was short and petite, her blond hair in a bun and her dog and cats scrubs were crisp. I watched her go before looking to the man again.
"I don't understand what's going on. Did I…" A horrifying thought crossed my brain. "Did I kill someone? Did I hit them with my car or something? Is that why you're all being so weird?"
The man's own eyes began to fill then. I felt bad about that. I knew it was my fault, I just didn't know why. He rubbed the woman's back soothingly. He shook his head to dispel my theory and took a deep breath. A breath loaded with meaning and purpose. "
Emmie
…you were in
a
accident," he repeated once again that I was 'in an accident'. OK, I got that. I wanted him to move on to the part that explained the sobbing woman on my bed. He continued after a pause, "You were…walking home from the football game. Someone…hit you. A hit and run, they said. The person was never found. They left you there and eventually someone else came along and helped you. But you'd already lost a lot of blood and…" He shook his head vigorously. "Anyway, you've been her for six months. You were in a coma,
Emmie
."
I took in a lungful of air and uttered the question that I somehow knew was going to change my world. "Why do you keep calling me
Emmie
?"
He grimaced. "That's your name. Emma Walker. We always…called you
Emmie
."
"My name… Emma," I tasted the name. "I don't feel like an Emma."
He smiled sadly. "Oh, baby. I'm so sorry this happened to you."
The woman raised her head. "
Emmie
." She tried to smile through her tears. "Try to remember," she urged. "Remember what your favorite color is?" She
nodded and answered for me, "Pastel Pink. That's what you were thinking, right?"
Pastel pink was the last color I would ever have picked. "Are you sure I'm Emma?" She started to sob again and I felt bad, I did, but I needed answers. "Who are you?"
"We're your parents," the man answered. "I'm…Rhett. And your mother is Isabella.
Issie
…" he drawled distractedly.
