Timestorm (33 page)

“The pain meds are sixty percent muscle relaxers,” he said gently to Courtney, using such an intimate tone that it caused my anger to spike. “If you can do some of that relaxing on your own, you’ll get some instant relief. Mind over matter, right?”

Courtney visibly tried to relax and the wrinkles in her forehead smoothed out.

“Good, just like that.” Mason’s fingers continued to move over her face. “This is what Dr. Melvin meant last night when he said you needed to take the pain meds all the time. You have to stay on top of it or it’s not going to be tolerable, okay?”

“Dr. Melvin examined her last night?” I asked.

Mason nodded, his eyes staying on Courtney. “He did an FMRI, too, in order to see the progress.”

“And…?”

Courtney inhaled and then slowly released the air from her lungs before saying, “Two months.”

I suddenly felt dizzy and disoriented hearing the truth spoken so bluntly. And seeing Mason holding it together, calm and in control, not even hesitating for a second at the idea of getting close to Courtney. As much as it killed me to admit it, Mason couldn’t really be held to the label I’d given him—hormonal flirt with the sole mission of getting in my sister’s pants. Because honestly, who would do that with a girl who only had two months to live?

Unfortunately, my desire to kick his ass hadn’t faded a bit.

He pressed more firmly into the space between her thumb and index finger. “Better?”

Courtney took a few breaths and then sighed with relief. Tears escaped her eyes, rolling down the sides of her face. Mason quickly wiped them away with his fingertips.

“How’s the nausea?” he asked.

“Tolerable,” Courtney whispered, lifting a hand to touch Mason’s face. “Thank you. I’ll take the pills from now on, I promise.”

“What did you give her?” I asked, deciding that I needed to acquire whatever knowledge Mason had so I could help her next time.

Mason opened his mouth to answer but the door burst open and Dad, Stewart, Kendrick, and Emily charged into the room. Mason glanced over his shoulder at them and then held a finger to his mouth. “Keep the volume down, she’s fine. Just learned an important lesson in pain management.”

Dad stalked over to the table, causing Mason to release his grip on Courtney’s hand and back away. Kendrick lifted the plastic bags one at a time, reading the labels. “You gave her forty milligrams of the oxycodone, right?”

Mason nodded.

“And the promethazine?”

“Yes,” Mason answered, rolling his eyes.

“Good boy.” Kendrick gave him a smile and then patted his head. “And the tennis ball trick, somebody got an A in home remedies.”

Dad pulled up a chair beside Courtney, taking one of her hands and squeezing the pressure point like Mason had. “Just try to relax, sweetheart,” he said. “You’ll feel better in a few minutes.” Dad glanced at me for the first time since entering the room. “Was it only pain? No seizure?”

“No seizure,” I answered. “I think she got dizzy first and then the headache.”

Courtney nodded her agreement and then wiggled her eyes open. “Dad, I want to go home.”

My hand froze around Courtney’s ankle. Kendrick still held the bag in her hand, having only zipped it halfway closed. Emily stood near the door, her eyes on me, and Mason held the paper cup of water above the garbage can, obviously distracted by this request.

Dad lifted Courtney’s hand to his face and closed his eyes briefly. “Okay.”

“Really?” Color finally started to creep into Courtney’s cheeks again. She had gone completely white since her episode started a few minutes ago. She squeezed her eyes as if hit by another wave of pain.

“Let’s wait until the medicine kicks in,” Dad said.

“She wouldn’t have to go through this if she’d let us put in a central line,” Kendrick said.

Mason glared at Kendrick. “She said she didn’t want one. Quit bringing it up.”

Kendrick just shrugged. “She also said she didn’t want pain meds last night so I thought maybe her opinions had changed after this episode.”

Courtney opened her eyes again, looking at me then Dad. “Please don’t let her put a tube in my chest … please, Dad … Jackson…?” Her look of desperation hit me right in the gut. And she and I had just established the fact that we were going to spend our time doing what we wanted to do. Not necessarily what was the best thing to do.

I cleared my throat. “It should be her choice, Dad.”

This confession would have been noble had it not been my only action since Courtney started suffering some pretty intense level-nine pain.

Dad’s gaze stayed focused on the wall behind the operating table. “Yes. It’s her choice.”

Courtney sighed with relief. “I can’t wait to sleep in my own bed.”

The entire room froze again and I figured out right then why this had happened the first time. I took a breath that cut through the silence and caused everyone to look at me. Maybe this would be my contribution since I hadn’t been able to help Courtney before.

“Courtney…” I waited for her to look at me. “Um, your room isn’t … I mean, it’s not how you remembered it. It’s not your room anymore. It’s empty now.”

Her face fell but she nodded slowly. “Right, yeah, that makes sense. But everything else is still there, right? It’s not, like, completely different?”

I attempted a smile. “It’s still home.”

*   *   *

“I just don’t get why you like this movie so much. It’s the most depressing story ever.” I tossed a few pieces of the popcorn Courtney had barely touched at the TV screen as poor Jack’s frozen corpse was released into the ocean.

“It’s romantic,” Courtney muttered from her spot on the couch in our TV room.

“Rose could have made room for him on top of that piece of debris. Kind of selfish of her, don’t you think?”

Courtney laughed. “You’re not even watching, are you?” She pointed at the stack of books on the coffee table and then the one currently spread across my lap.

The whole situation earlier had freaked me out so much that I asked Kendrick for some medical books to read. I didn’t know how much I could comprehend but I did have that photographic memory thing going for me. Not to mention the motivation of not allowing Mason Sterling to be more valuable to Courtney than me.

“All right. I’m taking a reading break.” I closed the book and set it on the coffee table. “What should we watch next?”

“I think I should start working through the list of movies that came out after April of 2005,” she said with a yawn. I didn’t move or speak and finally Courtney rolled her eyes at me saying, “Stop it. You said we we’re going to do bucket-list stuff so let’s get on with it and cut the crappy I’m-too-sad-to-enjoy-myself faces.”

“You’re right.” I stood up and began searching our extensive shelf of DVDs for movies released after early 2005. “Looks like we’ve got two Harry Potter movies to tackle.”

She still looked exhausted and possibly in pain but her face lit up. “Perfect.”

As I was putting the DVD in, Courtney sat up halfway, angling herself to face me. “You met Eileen, right?”

“Yeah, kind of. She took those memory drugs after so it wasn’t exactly a two-sided meeting.”

“What is she like?” She returned to curling up on her side, eyes on the TV again. “I mean, we were an experiment to her…”

“She’s different from everyone else in Tempest,” I said, thinking carefully about what words could best describe the woman who was sort of our mother. “I think she’s as selfless as Dad, and that’s saying a lot.”

Courtney pulled the blanket off the back of the couch and spread it over herself. I grabbed the ends and helped cover her feet. “I think you’re pretty selfless, too, Jackson.”

I shook my head. “Not like her. Not like Dad.”

“I bet he misses her.”

The menu screen had popped up on the TV, playing the familiar Harry Potter theme song. I hit
PLAY
before saying, “I know he does.”

I made it through about an hour of the movie before falling asleep sitting up, wearing nothing but gym shorts, my hair probably sticking up from the quick post-shower towel dry I had done prior to watching
Titanic.
I vaguely recalled Dad’s lifting a sleeping Courtney off the couch and carrying her out of the room.

CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

DAY 3: 2009. 2:00
A.M
.

After what felt like several hours of sleeping upright in a less-than-comfortable position, I woke up when I felt the weight of someone sitting on my lap. I peeled my eyes open, secretly hoping I hadn’t dreamed the soft hair tickling my cheeks. Sure enough, Holly was seated on top of me, her mouth dangerously close to mine, one knee placed next to each of my hips.

“Hey,” she whispered. “You know, I think we should just be friends.”

My brain was too fogged with sleep to absorb the shock of this situation. I rested my hands on her lower back, feeling the exposed strip of skin above her jeans. “This is friendship? Sure, I’m in.”

My vision finally cleared enough to look into her light blue eyes and watch the mischievous smile spread across her face. “Repeat after me … Sweetheart…”

Her fingertips landed on the sides of my neck and I closed my eyes again, letting out an involuntary sigh. “Sweetheart…”

“Baby…”

“Baby,” I repeated.

“Honey…”

“Honey.” My hands slid higher until I reached her hair and tangled my fingers in it. “Is this a new game all the kids are playing?”

“Is this room really soundproof?” she asked, leaning in closer.

“Okay, I’m totally down with this game.” I opened my eyes again, wanting to see if she was still real. “And yeah, it’s…”

A conversation I’d had with 007 Holly came tumbling back to me right then. We had been right here on this exact couch, her feet in my lap, her eyes fighting to stay open while a movie had played on the TV.

“The surround sound is really loud,”
007 Holly had said.
“Don’t the neighbors complain about the noise? It is an apartment building…”

“This room was made for media,”
I had said.
“It’s soundproof.”

007 Holly had lifted her head and raised an eyebrow, probably wondering if I’d taken advantage of the soundproofed space with anyone else.

The Holly currently seated on my lap also arched a blond eyebrow. “I figured out something this morning before you left my house. Things you say and certain places and objects are triggering the visions. I walked in here and I remembered the soundproofing conversation and then I thought maybe we could experiment. Since we dated, I figured you must have called me something—some corny term of endearment—but nothing triggered any memory.”

I shifted her hair to one side and rubbed the back of her neck. “I’m sorry, did you say something? I’ve lost the ability to concentrate on anything besides your current position on top of me.”

She rolled her eyes. “Grow up.”

“Unlikely.”

She laughed. “Okay, fine. I’m not really here, you’re dreaming.”

“That sounds about right.” I dropped my hands to my sides and allowed myself to get real about this odd wake-up call. “What are you doing here, Holly? I thought you were going to stay home with your mom?”

She ignored my question and her nose touched my cheek and then the side of my face, causing a shiver to run down my spine. “You must have shaved yesterday. Whatever you use to shave, I remember the smell. Aftershave or shaving cream?”

“Shaving cream.” Her eyes met mine again, causing all the horrible panic of yesterday to come rushing back to me. Those memories, that stupid World B and 007 Holly’s life would eventually ruin this Holly’s mind. The process had already started.

“Oh no…” Holly rested her hands on my cheeks. “Not that face. You just turned about five shades lighter. I thought maybe if I made my entrance distracting enough, we could avoid the guilty, hopeless Jackson Meyer sad face.”

I tried to smile, but I’m sure it looked forced. “So that’s why we’re sharing a couch cushion when there are four perfectly available cushions for you to occupy?”

“Exactly.” She pulled back, looking me up and down. “You still have the face.”

I took a deep breath and tried to shift her sideways to sit beside me but she held her spot firmly. “Look, Hol, there’s something I have to tell you.”

Her finger touched my lips, cutting me off. “I already know. Courtney told me a little while ago while you were sound asleep.”

“You already know?” A tidal wave of grief washed over me. I moved her finger from my mouth but held on to it tight. “Everything?”

“Yes. And you’re still looking at me like I’m an egg about to crack. I thought I had a year before that happens?” She shifted and I thought that was finally the end of my little lap-dance fantasy, but instead she seemed to slide her hips closer until she was completely pressed against me. I sucked in a breath, wishing that I wasn’t the only shirtless one in the room. A smile spread across Holly’s face. “That’s better. Anyway, I went to Mike’s gym yesterday. I walked through the whole place and there were memories hitting me left and right and then after I got home, I realized something very important.”

“What’s that?”

“How I feel when I see those things are really coming from me.”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean, before I couldn’t help wondering if what I felt around you was just implanted into me from another version of me, but it’s not. The connection I get when I’m around you comes from my reaction to how you were with the other me. Like if someone had told me stories of the love you lost and how important that person was to you, I’d like you more because of that. Combine that with what I’ve seen myself…” She touched her lips to my cheek, causing me to sigh again. “So you can stop worrying about me giving up my right to choose or whatever the hell it was that kept you up at night.”

I reached up and held her face in my hands. “I can’t believe Courtney told you everything.”

“I think she wants you to be able to live—however long that is—and not carry this huge weight around.” Holly closed her eyes and drew in a deep, shaking breath, showing something other than amusement for the first time since waking me up. “I’m glad I know. I’m glad she told me, but I don’t want to spend all my time thinking about it.”