now with Zach, so she dove right in. “We were vacationing on an island resort in Thailand when he got sick. We'd been deep sea diving and he'd fallen on the boat in rough waters on the way back to the resort. He started feeling bad that evening and we went to the resort's clinic, the only medical facility on the island. He had a headache, nausea, sensitivity to light, and was a little confused—we assumed he'd gotten a slight concussion from the fall. They kept him under observation the rest of the night, and he felt better the next day. The doctor released him, said he was fine, and we sat on the beach and talked after a light dinner, since he didn't have much of an appetite. But when he woke the following morning, he was worse again and was weak and his balance was off."
She stopped to take a sip, focusing on the burn of the Jack Daniels instead of the ache in her heart. “The doctor was still saying concussion, but I wanted a second opinion. I got plane tickets for us to leave the island that afternoon, researched the best hospital for brain injuries, arranged for a driver and translator to meet us at the airport. Two hours before we were to leave, he had a seizure and began losing hand-eye coordination. The clinic staff finally agreed it was more than a concussion and helped arrange for an emergency medical evacuation. He was in a state of the art hospital within an hour and a half of the seizure, but he lost consciousness en route to the hospital and never woke again. He died a few days later. The autopsy said it had nothing to do with the fall—the cause of death was listed as food poisoning. Something he ate created a form of meningitis, and if not diagnosed and treated right away, antibiotics can't help after a certain point. If he hadn't fallen on the boat, if we didn't assume head injury...” She stopped, remembering only madness lay down the what if line of thought.
He rubbed her back, his voice raspy as he said, “I got so mad at the people who said I'm sorry after Bethany died. They didn't do anything, why were they apologizing? Eventually I realized it was a way to try to express they wished it hadn't happened. It's hard to know what to say after hearing such a sad story, when someone so important was taken away unexpectedly."
Dana nodded; she'd had the same thoughts, come to the same conclusions. “I'm guessing if the two of us end up together there won't be any vacations in our future."
His hand moved to her arm, still rubbing, and she wondered if he were comforting himself, or her. He adjusted them so he could look into her eyes. “That'd be sad, don't you think? To live our life in fear?"
"Maybe, but I couldn't relax and enjoy myself, so it'd be pointless take a trip that'd only stress me out."
"Have you gone on a vacation since he passed?"
She shook her head. “No. I live in one of the top twenty-five vacation destinations in the US. Why do I need to go anywhere?"
"What if we visited a large city with excellent medical facilities, where they drive on the right side of the road?"
She sighed, aggravated at his doggedness. “I spent a week in Los Angeles a few months ago for a design convention. It wasn't recreational, it was work, but still, I'm capable of travel. Last year I went to Chicago for a convention. I don't know what I'll be comfortable with in ten or fifteen years, but right now I get plenty of R&R at home and don't need to go gallivanting around the globe in search of it."
"Okay."
There were several moments of silence, as she waited for him to expound on his single word answer. When he didn't she said, “That's it? Just, okay ?"
"Yep. We're both familiar with therapy. If I think we're allowing our pasts to dictate our future I'll ask that we talk about it with Kirsten. I understand where you are now and trust we'll find a way to move forward together."
The realization he assumed this would be a long-term thing between them both thrilled and terrified her. “Oh. Well.
She stopped to take a sip, focusing on the burn of the Jack Daniels instead of the ache in her heart. “The doctor was still saying concussion, but I wanted a second opinion. I got plane tickets for us to leave the island that afternoon, researched the best hospital for brain injuries, arranged for a driver and translator to meet us at the airport. Two hours before we were to leave, he had a seizure and began losing hand-eye coordination. The clinic staff finally agreed it was more than a concussion and helped arrange for an emergency medical evacuation. He was in a state of the art hospital within an hour and a half of the seizure, but he lost consciousness en route to the hospital and never woke again. He died a few days later. The autopsy said it had nothing to do with the fall—the cause of death was listed as food poisoning. Something he ate created a form of meningitis, and if not diagnosed and treated right away, antibiotics can't help after a certain point. If he hadn't fallen on the boat, if we didn't assume head injury...” She stopped, remembering only madness lay down the what if line of thought.
He rubbed her back, his voice raspy as he said, “I got so mad at the people who said I'm sorry after Bethany died. They didn't do anything, why were they apologizing? Eventually I realized it was a way to try to express they wished it hadn't happened. It's hard to know what to say after hearing such a sad story, when someone so important was taken away unexpectedly."
Dana nodded; she'd had the same thoughts, come to the same conclusions. “I'm guessing if the two of us end up together there won't be any vacations in our future."
His hand moved to her arm, still rubbing, and she wondered if he were comforting himself, or her. He adjusted them so he could look into her eyes. “That'd be sad, don't you think? To live our life in fear?"
"Maybe, but I couldn't relax and enjoy myself, so it'd be pointless take a trip that'd only stress me out."
"Have you gone on a vacation since he passed?"
She shook her head. “No. I live in one of the top twenty-five vacation destinations in the US. Why do I need to go anywhere?"
"What if we visited a large city with excellent medical facilities, where they drive on the right side of the road?"
She sighed, aggravated at his doggedness. “I spent a week in Los Angeles a few months ago for a design convention. It wasn't recreational, it was work, but still, I'm capable of travel. Last year I went to Chicago for a convention. I don't know what I'll be comfortable with in ten or fifteen years, but right now I get plenty of R&R at home and don't need to go gallivanting around the globe in search of it."
"Okay."
There were several moments of silence, as she waited for him to expound on his single word answer. When he didn't she said, “That's it? Just, okay ?"
"Yep. We're both familiar with therapy. If I think we're allowing our pasts to dictate our future I'll ask that we talk about it with Kirsten. I understand where you are now and trust we'll find a way to move forward together."
The realization he assumed this would be a long-term thing between them both thrilled and terrified her. “Oh. Well.
Similar Books
