Just One Chance : Chapter Seven

Chapter Seven.
The place was empty. Barren, almost. His footsteps echoed as he set boxes down in the silent apartment. His Dad and Mom were just getting out of their car as he stepped back out into the bright California sunlight.
They carried in box after box, until the trailer was empty. He walked in the front door and flipped on some lights. His mother was bustling around. “You have one couch! That’s it! What are you going to do about furniture?”
Michael shrugged. “I’ll buy some stuff.”
Shelly turned to address her husband. “Well then, David, write him a check!” She fussed over everything. “Goodness, your kitchen is tiny!”
“Mom. I’ll be fine…”
They stayed for a couple days, his mom unpacking boxes in a frenzy. “Where do you want this? Doesn’t this look perfect here? We gotta set up your bed. I’m leaving to buy some things!”
By the time she was finished, the small apartment looked almost complete.
But he still felt empty.
His parents left in a bustle, leaving money, food, and a fully stocked apartment. As soon as their vehicle drove away, he sank onto the couch, and he let the tears come.
He had cried once in his adult life, when his grandpa died. He felt weak when he cried, he hated it. But he had been holding it in since he’d gotten the phone call about Katya.
At some point, he got hungry.
In a daze, he went to see what was in the fridge. Numbly, he heated up some meatballs. He finished his food and crashed on the couch. He felt like he had a hangover. Emotionally drained. The pain in his heart hadn’t been eased by tears.
He fell into an exhausted, dream tortured sleep.
***
Days, then weeks passed. He got a job, one that kept him busy 24/7, so he wouldn’t have to even think.
He went on trips out of the country, he did whatever he could to forget. But the pain was too sharp to be distracted from, so he just went through the motions. He got a new number and only gave it to his family. He explained that he didn’t want to hear about Katya. His mother didn’t understand, but she agreed to it.
And that was how he coped.
***
Grace Bennet handed a glass of wine to her husband. He smiled up at her. “How you getting along hon?”
She sighed “I’m surviving. Something that gets harder to do everyday that passes.”
James sighed. “I know. It doesn’t even feel real.”
“But. Sadly, it is. By the way, Doctor Blake called today. We’re supposed to meet him at the hospital at 5 tomorrow. Does that work for you?”
James twisted his lips. “Yeah that’s okay.”
They sat in silence. After a few minutes, James looked up at his wife. Tears were falling down her cheeks and into her glass.
James said nothing, he just held her in his arms. And that meant more to her than any words could have.
***
My head hurts. Everything is black. Everything is numb. My eyes won’t open, my mouth won’t form words. I hear noises, but I can’t respond. Where am I? Why do I remember a car crash? And pain. Lots of pain. I wasn’t in a wreck, was I? I hear something. Voices? Yes, that must be it. I wonder if it’s Michael.
The voices come closer. I can make out the words.
“…brain activity is rapidly improving. She doing well.”
There were exclamations of delight. Another voice speaks. This one sound familiar. I try to say something. My tongue won’t work. I concentrate on the murky, far away voice.
What is that?
Suddenly it hits me.
Mom.
And she doesn’t know that I’m okay. I struggled to focus on moving something. Anything. But I feel myself slipping, the voices fading out until they’re gone completely.
***
Grace half smiled as she stood over Katya’s bed. She took her hand In her own and took a couple breaths. “Hey honey, you look good. I bet it’s peaceful, being in a coma, but-“ Her voice broke and she cleared her throat. “But we miss you, hon. You should come back and say hi sometime soon. I love you.” She leaned down and kissed her cheek, then she smoothed the hair out of her face and let her hand slide back onto the hospital bed. Then she crumpled into the chair by the bed. “My baby.” She whispered, to no one in particular.
And there she sat, by her daughter’s bed. You could tell what she was just by glancing in the door at her.
She was a mother with a broken heart.

xoxox**

I apologize, i haven't written in two forevers. This chapter is most definitely one of my least favorites.