The Heart's Shrapnel (23 page)

For now, I just need to get through the week. That’s how long I agreed to stay. Long enough to understand the Duke’s condition and help Hugo make the necessary arrangements. Maybe I’ll treat myself to a few days in London on the way home. I wonder if the Duke has a house there too.

It occurs to me that I don’t even know his first name and I always call my patients by name. I’ll have to ask. I don’t think Shelly or Hugo had ever mentioned it.

I check his vitals again, and I head to bed wondering what tomorrow may bring.

IT’S A WEEK TO THE day, and still nothing. The bedsores are gone though, the sheets are changed regularly, the Duke is clean and tended to, but he has shown not one single sign of consciousness or aware-ness. I emailed Shelly my patient reports every night but still she begged me to give it another week “just in case.” I agreed. To be honest, I’m not ready to leave. I know what I said. But, something is keeping me here. Knowing me, it largely has to do with my need to fix everyone and make them better. And to top it all off, he has not had even one visitor the entire time that I’ve been here. I’m starting to think either he doesn’t have a lot of family, or they just don’t care. Not even this cousin of his has stopped to check in—at least not that I know of and I’ve barely left his side. I need a distraction and so I call the only person I know who could cheer me up.

“Hey, Laney. How are things with you?”

Laney is my best friend, has been since we were in diapers. I’d be lost without her.

“Oh no you don’t! It has been a whole week since you’ve been living the dream…in a castle…in England. We are not talking about me. Spill the beans. What is it like? What have you been doing? Do you go to a lot of fancy outings? Are you wearing a hat?”

Her words come out rushed, and I burst into laughter at her obvious enthusiasm.

“I’m afraid you’ve mistaken my life with someone else’s, Laney. You do know that I’m here for work only?”

“Pahleeze! Don’t give me that. I want the 411.”

I sigh into the phone. I don’t have much going on that is exciting; though I wish there was. I decide to have some fun with her though.

“All right, well, you better sit down, because your socks are about to be blown clear off.” I can envision how excited she is right now. I picture her running around her messy apartment and making herself comfortable on her bed.

“Okay, I’m ready,” she says in excited anticipation. It takes all I have not to laugh and spoil the fun.

“Well, let’s see. I’ve had a pretty eventful week with the Duke.”

“Yeah?”

“Yep. Every other night I give him his sponge bath—” Her shriek interrupts me.

“Oh my God! Oh sorry. Keep going!”

I snicker quietly away from the receiver. Laney can be pretty gullible at times. It makes for an interesting evening, I suppose.

Once I’m able to control myself and have her practically salivating over the phone, it’s time to turn the tables. “I’m gentle with the sponge so as to not re-open his many wounds; he’s been unable to move for months. Then I get to change his sheets, and every morning, I monitor his vitals so that he doesn’t seize and puke all over himself or possibly choke on his vomit.” She whispers the word what and I grin into the phone. Honestly, there’s not much work for me to do. The medical equipment in his room is top-notch. I must be doing something right though, because Hugo mentioned how he looks so much more like himself; he’s got more color to him. That I do agree with.

“Gross, seriously? He sounds like an old, fat brute! Here I thought that at least one of us was having a good time, but it sounds like you’ve been working a crime scene.”

“It feels like that sometimes with how careful and precise I have to be with everything. He’s in a coma and the prognosis isn’t good.” My voice sounds sullen even to my own ears.

“What have you been doing for fun?”

I take a minute to think what I’ve been doing that sounds remotely like fun. Not much if I’m being honest with myself.

“Well, I’ve been filling my days out in the garden. Oh, you should see it, Laney. It is like a paradise!”

“I bet.”

“I think the butler about had a coronary the first time I picked up a rototiller. He keeps insisting that I let the gardener attend to it, but I assured him that I need to do it. It helps calm me and keeps my mind off other things.”

“A butler? That sounds like so old-school.”

“That he is. It’s a whole other world over here in England, or at least on this estate, but I do my best to keep busy.”

I have to get out of the house for a few hours every day, or I feel myself starting to get panicky. Being around the Duke in his lifeless condition can really mess with a person. But, I don’t tell her that.

“Well, I just hope that you keep doing some things for yourself. I’m sorry, Adalind, I wasn’t aware at how serious this was.” She huffs into the receiver. “I mean, I knew it had to be something serious for you to be asked to go to England to help a Duke, but damn, I was thinking more Downton Abbey than Grey’s Anatomy.”

I laugh. “That’s exactly what I thought when I first arrived. Little did I know how right I really was. But, it’s not all that bad. We have tea every day.” I’m not sure if I say this more to convince her or me.

“Yeah, okay,” she says sarcastically. “You’re trapped in a castle giving sponge baths to the cursed Duke. You’ll probably be beheaded or some shit if you don’t cure him somehow, you know that right? I mean, he’s kind of important.”

“Dear Lord, no one is going to be beheaded. But seriously, I probably shouldn’t have even told you that much.” I’m kind of starting to feel like I’m being disloyal to the Duke by telling her these things. I would never normally share details about my patients’ care. “Anyway, I still get to do stuff that I enjoy. For example, every night like clockwork, I read to him. It’s only the newspaper, but if he is aware of what’s going on, I want him to be up to date with current events. Plus, this way, neither of us has to be lonely.” Despite his title and what it has to offer, I get the feeling that he is a private person…that he doesn’t really have many friends. I could be wrong, but since no one has stopped by, I doubt it.

“Oh, Addie, it sounds like you’re getting caught in the Wuthering Heights-ness of it all. I hope you are not getting your heart involved in this. I know how you can be.”

“It’s nothing like that. I just want him to wake up and get his life back, you know? He’s got so much and he can’t enjoy any of it.”

“I know, honey. Just be careful, you’re a long way from home, and that can mess with a person. Call me whenever you need to talk, or vent, and especially when you finally have something juicy to tell me.”

“I will. Thanks.” I hang up the phone and go check on him. All of this talk about him waking up has me antsy.

***

Another week goes by. I’m at the Duke’s bedside reading him the paper while holding his hand as I’ve done so many times, and suddenly I feel it—a twitch of his fingers. I’m uncertain if it’s my imagination playing tricks on me, so I set the paper down and wait to see if he does it again. He does! My eyes fill with tears. I can’t believe it! Glancing at the monitor, there is brain activity dancing everywhere. Something is happening. But, just like that it stops, and I’m left feeling nothing but disappointment.

Removing my hand from his, I reach into my pocket and pull out my cell to call Shelly with an update. I’m both eager to talk to her and nervous.

As expected, I get her voicemail. Because this is a high profile assignment, not to mention the privacy rules about the HIPAA law, I keep it brief and to the point, letting her know I have new updates on my patient’s condition.

She calls back about a half hour later.

“Adalind, what is it? What’s the new prognosis?” Her voice is all business and she sounds rushed.

“He’s showing some signs of body movement. I felt his hand twitch twice, and saw some heavy brain activity on the monitors which says a lot because when I first came here, the activity was just as someone who is dreaming. This development is huge given the fact that in the two weeks I’ve been here, this is the first evidence of him starting to come out of the coma.”

“Hmmm. That definitely is something to keep an eye on. You’re staying then, right?”

“Oh, I don’t know, Shelly.”

“Adalind, you are the only nurse that I trust with such an important client. I need you there; a high-profile recovery like this would be so important to the agency’s reputation and future. And, damn it, I also need your skills here, but another week shouldn’t hurt us too much.”

Her emphasis on how I’m the only one she trusts with this puts a huge guilt trip on me. But, to be honest, I still don’t want to leave. I do, but I don’t. And anyway, I’m already here. If by some miracle he wakes, I want it to be me that he sees. I want it to be me that gets him better. The realization of that hits me hard and baffles me.

What is wrong with me?!

“Okay, I’ll see where this leads.”

***

The subtle movements within his body continue for days, yet I tell no one but Shelly in my daily reports. I don’t want to give false hope, and she agreed, advising me to keep it quiet for now.

Laney is the one to call this time wanting the entire scoop…and by “scoop” I mean what he looks like.

“Oh my gosh, Addie, is he hot like he looks on the internet?” she asks while crunching on something in her mouth. “I searched “Dukes in England, coma” and Evan Jacob Frederick, the Duke of Warlington, popped up. That’s your boy, right?” Evan? God, I didn’t want to know his birth name. Not yet, anyway; I’d decided against asking. I was too scared to. Many nights while lying awake in my room, I came close to giving in and looking him up but couldn’t. Somehow it would be too familiar once I knew and I already am struggling with keeping a professional, slightly detached mind. Laney is not helping. “Why didn’t you tell me he was a total babe? You were holding out on me. You can’t say ‘sponge bath’ like it’s a bad thing when he’s a looker.” Her pout is evident in how whiney her voice sounds. It’s hilarious.

I try my best to sound unfazed. “Laney, he’s my patient for goodness sake. And have you forgotten his current condition?”

“No, I haven’t forgotten about his leprosy,” she jokes. “But, please…just because he’s your patient and happens to be comatose that doesn’t mean you can’t ogle the guy and take your time with his cleanings…I mean, what better time to do it than when he’s unconscious, right? You could try kissing him, sort of like a Snow White thing. What do you think? I know I would if I were you. A guy in a coma has certain advantages.”

“I’m not taking advantage of this poor man and kissing him like some raging hormonal teenager.”

“Who said anything about taking advantage? That would be totally hot though. What if it woke him up?” I roll my eyes. It’s a good thing she is not the one taking care of him, or we’d see her on the six o’clock news. “Please, Addie, just give me a little something. I’m totally jealous over here. You have me second-guessing my career choice now.”

Laney is a law student, and although she teases about it she’s damned good.

“Fine,” I say with a sigh. It couldn’t hurt to tell her this little bit. I mean, he is a public figure. “He’s not what I expected. He’s around my age and gorgeous as hell which you already know since you cyber stalked him.”

“Yes, I know how fine he is, but I want to know your thoughts. God, you’ve been single for how long? And, you are always saying you never have the time to date because of your work. Well, one plus one equals two. Problem solved!”

I burst out laughing again. I knew she would cheer me up. And, she’s right about my love life—it’s nonexistent.

“You’re crazy. Fine! I’ll admit that he is a decent looking man.”

“Decent my white American ass! If that is how you are going to play it, then fine. But, I know differently. He’s a freakin’ Duke. They have to be hot. It’s like, in their Duke book of rules or some shit.”

“Honey, that’s only what your romance-reading mother raised you to believe so you’d have something to fantasize about.”

“True. If you look up the other Dukes, they are uglier than homemade soap.”

Ever the dramatic. But, she’s right though. Searching Google right now while talking with her, I keep seeing all of these older gentlemen who aren’t really high on the handsome list. As Laney keeps mumbling about random physical traits they all have, I stumble upon his picture—Evan. The guy was made to have his photograph taken, whereas the others are left lacking. So in that, she is spot-on. My breath escapes my lungs in one fluid motion. Needing some air, I try to cut the conversation short. Fawning over pictures of my patient with my best friend is not appropriate behavior for someone in my position.

“He’s even better than the photos, yes. But seriously, I have to go. Dinner is ready and if I don’t head down, Hugo will come up to see what is taking me so long and I’m not properly dressed yet.”

“Properly dressed? Hugo?” She laughs. “What a cliché. Anyway, I’ll talk at ya later, chica. If you decide to get a little fresh with the hunk of man meat—and I’m sure that’s impressive too”—Oh, if only you knew— “call me. I’ll make sure to pop me some popcorn while you tell me all the deets in vivid detail.”

I roll my eyes again. I can’t help it. She does that to you. She’s a little spitfire, but I wouldn’t trade her for the world. And any other time or any other person, I would have joined in on her schoolgirl silliness. But not this time; not with him. He’s like a little secret that only I get to know. And for some reason that I don’t even understand, I don’t want others to be privy to any of it. I’m his protector in a way. I know I’m probably sounding like an obsessed schizophrenic, but I swear I’m not. I just feel like I have a major responsibility to protect him. If not me, then who else? If he was awake or married, then that would be a different story. Maybe.