Don't Wake Me if I'm Dreaming (10 page)

“You can make it up to me tonight.”

We sample from a wine collection and before leaving, a gift bag is delivered to our table, with our three favorite bottles of wine from the collection.

With the same gust of wind, we’re at Matt’s house in the limo. When we arrive, the gentleman opens our door, lending me a hand as Matt collects the wine, crutches, and my clutch. He tips the driver then helps me up the walk and few steps to his door. A soft light glows from the small windowpane on the front door. The house is dimly lit, and soft music is playing when we enter. Not wanting me to see much, he quickly closes the door, then stands in front of me and takes my crutches, sitting them against the wall.

“I have something for you, something a little more comfortable.” His brown eyes look soft, but show excitement.

“I think you’ve spoiled me enough for one night.”

“It’s my job to make you feel like a princess.”

“How are we going to get back to my apartment?” I ask, hearing the limo drive off.

“We can take a taxi or maybe Vance will give us ride. I’ll worry about that in the morning.” He helps me over to the sofa, and hands me a gift box with a large satin bow tied around it. “I’ve got to do something fast. Go ahead and open it.” He hurries toward the room down the hall.

I take my sweater off, then slide the ribbon from the box. Lifting the lid, I expect risqué negligee under the tissue paper. I’m pleasantly surprised to find a white, Chantilly lace and satin gown. “Oh wow.” I remove it from the box. The nightgown is gorgeous and tastefully sexy. I want to shower and brush my teeth before changing, but I settle for pulling the pins from my hair and shaking it into place. I undress then slide on the nightgown. It fits smoothly over every curve, flowing to my knees. I brush my hands down the silky fabric, then fold my dress and undergarments over the chair, and carefully unwrap my ankle.

Matt returns, his face going through a kaleidoscope of changing expressions and colors, leaving him blushing with a grin. “Lawd, have mercy!”

“It’s beautiful, Matt. You’ve outdone yourself. Everything’s perfect, this evening’s been perfect. Thank you.” I hold out my hands reaching for his.

He brushes past the gesture as if unnoticing anything other than his desire. His body instantly presses against mine. “I had this whole sly speech planned in my head, but I don’t remember a word of it now.”

“Well, I assume we’re not heading into the kitchen.” I smile.

“Right, no, I’m trying to collect my thoughts. Put your arm around my neck.”

I do as he asks. Carefully, he lifts me into his arms and carries me toward his bedroom, careful not to bump my foot in the hall. Dozens of white petals meet his feet in outside his door, carrying me into the room; the floor is now a thin sheet of white rose petals. Candles are lit around the bedroom and at least twelve dozen roses line every standing surface.

He sets me on the edge of the bed and turns off the lights. My eyes quickly adjust to the candlelight. His knee reaches for the bed, but I protest, demanding he remove his pants.

He does as I ask.

“I love you,” he says tenderly.

“I love you.” My voice matches his.

His hand slides down the side of the gown. “Do you like it? It looks hot on you.”

“I love it.” My lips reach for his, and then my arms wrap around his neck and pull him next to me.

He rolls onto his side and stares at me with soft eyes.

“What’s on your mind?”

“Tonight was going to be the night I had planned to ask you to marry me. I figured I would do it during dinner, or on the balloon ride or something.”

“I figured as much. So why didn’t you wait until tonight?”

“I got excited I guess. You do that to me.”

“I excite you?” I smile, rubbing my hand across his chest.

“All the time.”

“I’m sorry I spoiled it for you last night.”

“I’m the one that spoiled the surprise. I just thought we were ready. Maybe by our next anniversary?”

“Maybe.”

He looks slightly disappointed that I agree.

“Or you could ask now.” I smile.

“Eww, more rejection. That’s just cruel.”

“Matt, if you don’t ask me to marry you, I’ll have to ask you. That might be a little awkward.”

He smiles. “Really?”

I nod my head.

“Marry me.” Matt reaches under the pillow and feels around for the ring box. “It’s probably not what you were hoping for, but it belonged to my grandma. She left it for me, for us.” He opens the box, showing the striking set of diamonds wrapped around a gold band.

“It’s perfect, and yes, I will marry you, Matthew.”

He slides the ring on my finger.

“How did you know it would fit?” I ask.

“I honestly didn’t. Guess it was meant to be.”

“Will you please make love to me already?” I pull him with me as I scooch back on the bed.

He crawls partially on his side, careful not to put his weight on me. “Mrs. Stephens. I like how that sounds.”

***

I woke, looking around the living room.
It was just a dream.
I slumped back into the sofa, pulling my hair from my face. “Mrs. Stephens
.”
A satisfied smile spread across my lips then quickly fell flat.
If this was another of my so-called prophetic dreams, it’s going to happen.
I glanced at the oven clock. It was officially our one-year anniversary, which meant if it were to happen it would be tonight. I panicked, for several reasons…the thought of flying in a hot air balloon and not having an Anniversary gift for Matt, whether or not I was truly ready to be engaged.

I grabbed my cellphone and realized I had a three a.m. missed text message from Matt.

“
Happy Anniversary. I’ll pick u up 2nite at 6. Going 2 bed now. Love u.
”

***

I
cleaned up quickly for work. I wanted to get to the office early so I could look online for an anniversary gift I could pick up on my lunch break.

I stopped en route to work at the Quick Stop to fill my gas tank and find something to eat. Despite the unappealing thought of eating stale food from a gas station, I needed something in my stomach before taking my pain pill. I knew it would make me tired and there was nothing like a can of liquid energy to give me a fix.

I bought a muffin and can of Red Bull, and then crutched back to my car to head to work. I placed my purchased items on the seat and flipped through the radio stations.

The commute was the same as every morning driving through downtown. Pedestrians on every corner, yielding at every turn, hitting every red light… I slammed on the breaks, nearly missing a cyclist as I was turning. “Sorry!” I waved as he flipped me the bird. The Red Bull can fell onto the passenger floorboard. I waited until I found a clear path on the road before leaning down to grab the can, but it was out of reach. I unbuckled my seatbelt and slowed the car, seeing a significant distance between my car and oncoming traffic. I reached down, again, still unable to grab the can and decided against another attempt to reach for it. I sat up just in time to see the traffic light had turned red.

I
sat on the rim of the tub removing the remnants of chipped polish from my nails, and then soaked and scrubbed my hands and feet. Finally, red polish to complete the look. I waited for my nails to dry, applied my makeup while dropping the rollers from my hair. I had just under an hour until I could expect to hear Matt enter my apartment. The wave of excitement, nervousness, eagerness, all felt nauseating when combined, but it didn’t matter. I was too thrilled to feel emotional and ready to celebrate our first anniversary.

I stepped into an ivory dress, not wanting to mess my hair. Each step of the dream wasn’t lining up exactly as I remembered. I knew it was close enough, and that dreams were subjective to change depending on the course of action, or so Doctor Chiaki had explained.

I waited for Matt, watching the clock, holding my phone. He was late, and hadn’t answered my calls or responded to the text. I sat, waiting, but he didn’t show. I began assuming he was still upset and changed his mind about our date. But knew that wasn’t realistically his style, then made the assumption he got called on a fire or something and was just running late.

At nine o’clock, I pulled the bobby pins from my hair and twisted it into a braid. I headed into the bathroom and washed off my makeup, then changed into yoga pants and a shirt, and sat on the windowsill propping my heel against the window to keep my ankle elevated. I was hoping to see Matt’s Jeep at any moment, but I just sat, disappointed, watching cars drive under the streetlights.

The phone rang, making me jump. It was a private caller.

“Hello?”

“I’m looking for Sasha.” A stout voice replied.

“Speaking.” My stomach turned.

“Sasha, I’m Officer Harlow. You are listed as an emergency contact for Matthew Stephens.”

I didn’t remember the drive. I’m not sure if I even stopped at the stoplights or if they were red or green. I sat, confined to a room, surrounded by others waiting to hear news of their loved ones, yet, I felt alone, scared, not knowing anything about Matt’s condition. The wait seemed like an unrealistic amount of time. The officer’s voice reiterated in my head, explaining Matt had been in an accident. That was all I knew.

I anxiously sat with my face smooshed between my knees. I’d counted over eight hundred black speckles in the polished white linoleum squares that covered the hospital floor when I heard the squeaking sound of heavy rubber soles approaching. 

“Ma’am, are you a family member of Mr. Stephens?” The nurse’s voice grabbed my attention. She was a large Black woman with a prominent, thick southern accent.

“Matt! What’s going on? Can I see him?” Too quickly, I stood. The nurse caught my arm to support my balance, as I reached for my crutches.

“Careful now, ma’am. We don’t need the both of y’all admitted. Only family members are allowed in ICU.”

“I’m family.”             

“Come on, walk with me.” I followed her through the double doors. “By the way, I’m Hade, one of Mr. Stephens’ nurses. I’m afraid I have little good news, but he’s alive, that right there means someone’s watchin’ over him, but he may be out of kilter for some time. I’m afraid he’s suffered a brain injury, I don’t have all the details just yet, but you’ll be the first to know. I’ll walk ya to his room.”

I followed her through another set of heavy doors as she shared with me what little information she knew. “All we know is he was in an accident. I didn’t get a chance to read over the police report, but he was banged up somethin’ fierce.”

My eyes filled with tears as she spoke.

“Now, I gotta warn ya, Mr. Stephens’s gotta a few lacerations and looks a li’l black and blue around his face. We won’t know the extent of his injuries until his next MRI.”

As she spoke, a dull ringing filled my ears, unintentionally tuning her voice out. I began only hearing her mumble and the alternating of sounds of rubber from the crutches, then her shoes.

“Here we are.” She stood blocking the entryway to his room. “Now I know all that equipment looks frightenin’ in there, but, hon, ya ain’t alone in there. Mr. Stephens is right there.”

I nodded my head at her, and took a deep breath, forgetting to exhale as she stepped aside.

My stomach, heart, life was ripped from me. Centered in between several monitors and support equipment laid Matt’s resting body.

Hade placed her hand on my shoulder realizing my feet were immovable.

I tried saying his name. My chest felt about to cave. I tried breathing, but my airway was constricted by the emotional turmoil forming inside. I released a breathy gasp, a silent cry, followed by more gasps, one after another. I closed my eyes trying to control my breathing. Sound finally erupted from my mouth with a drawn out cry. “Matt!”

“Come now, sit before ya drop.”

“I left his parents a voicemail,” I explained. Tears continued streaming down my face. “I don’t know how else to reach them. I can try going to their house, see if they’re home.”

“Don’t ya go worrin’ about them folks, that’s our job. But you can help me out. I got some questions I need to ask.”

I nodded, agreeing to answer. I noticed the sorrowful expression on the nurse’s face and realized just how often she likely went through this with others.

“Do ya happen to know if Mr. Stephens was takin’ any medication prior the accident?”

“No. He wasn’t. Just a daily multi-vitamin and protein shakes before working out.”

“Does he have allergies to meds, foods, or anythan’ like that?”

“I don’t think so.”

“Has he had surgeries ya know of?”

“Uh…tonsillectomy and adenoids removed as a child. He said he was six at the time. That’s all I think.”

“Does he have any prior loss of mobility, hearin’, sight, taste, or any otha condition we need know about?”

“No. No, he’s in perfect health… he was before this.”

“What about recreational drugs or alcohol?”

“No, I mean he drinks, but not heavily, maybe a few beers or whiskey here and there, but not often.”  

“Do ya know when his last meal was?”

“He wouldn’t dream of skipping a meal. Lunch maybe a snack after. We had dinner...” I trailed off, in effort to keep myself together. “I’m so sorry. I think he was on his way to pick me up.”

“I know, this is a lot, but it’s importan’ to know this, the more we know, the better we can help Mr. Stephens. Is there anythan’ else I otta know about his health?”

“That’s it. I think.”

“That’s all for now. Don’t be afraid to hold his hand, just try not to move or stimulate him.” She patted my shoulder. “I’ll be back in a bit.”

I forced one foot in front of the other until I reached his side.

I didn’t know what to say, what to do, how to react. He looked peaceful, but not the same. My hands hovered above him searching for a place to touch, but with all the wires, and tubes, I settled for his hand.

He wore a surgical gown with a white blanket covering his body. His face had a few pieces of surgical tape, and a white compression wrap showed a small amount of blood on his forehead. A blue endotracheal tube covered his mouth.

I tried speaking to him, but only more tears came when I opened my mouth. I couldn’t explain the state I was in, somewhere between shock and disbelief. I hoped at any moment, I would wake from this nightmare.

I heard a loud gasp and mournful cry from his mom, Marlene.

“Oh hell.” His dad, Charles, followed her through the door.

I couldn’t speak; I just grabbed his mom and wrapped myself around her, bawling. We stood, holding onto each other crying, as she stared at Matt.

Charles reached his arm around her back, to help her sit, as I quickly reached for my crutches, moving them against the bathroom door.

“Were you in the accident, too?” Charles asked, looking at the crutches.

“No.” I sniveled, wiping my face on my sleeve. “I fell and sprained my ankle the other day.”

“What happened to him? Have they told you anything?” Marlene asked, handing me the box of tissue after grabbing a few for her.

I blew my nose, “I don’t know, we had a date, he didn’t show up… I was getting ready for bed when I got a call from a police officer saying I was Matt’s emergency contact and that Matt was in the hospital. I don’t know any details. I just got here, too.”

Hanging from the bathroom door was a plastic bag containing Matt’s belongings. His clothing was tied up in a red hazard bag, but his cellphone was visible in the bottom of the bag. I retrieved the phone and checked his messages. The most recent were from me and hadn’t been read.

“I texted him at six, and he didn’t open it or any of the texts that followed. The officer called me just after nine.”

“This just doesn’t make sense. He’s always such a careful driver.” His mom stood, walking to Matt’s side. Her hazel-green eyes were visibly blurred with tears.

“I don’t think it was his fault. His nurse said another driver was rushed in, but pronounced dead upon arriving.”

“Darn it.” Charles ran his hand up his forehead and over his light brown hair. “What a darn shame.” His big brown eyes expressed pain.

Hade returned to the room and handed me a glass of water. “All that cryin’, child, is gonna dry you out. Go on and take a sip now,” she said very motherly.

I spoke weakly as the tears continued streaming, “Thank you.”

“I’m Hade,” she spoke to Matt’s parents. “I reckon’ to be here another hour or so then back tomorrow afternoon. I work four tens this week, so y’all be seein’ a lot of me in the evenings. They try to keep us with our same patients,” she said, taking a seat at the computer.

“Do you know what happened? Have they released information yet?” Charles asked.

“Mr. Stephens had an operation to remove pressure from the swellin’ around his brain. It was successful, but we won’t know his cognitive forecast for a while.” The nurse went into explaining the medical properties and significance of each machine.

Marlene placed her hand on Matt’s. “It’s okay to touch him?”

“Just avoid stimulatin’, wakin’, or movin’ him. He’s better off left still to sleep. We’ve had patients respond to people’s voices by showing finger movement, or tears, but I wouldn’t go expectin’ too much from Mr. Stephens. He might take a while to respond.”

“How long is a while?” I asked.

“Oh, now, I can’t tell ya that. I have no clue. I can say I’ve never seen much response in the first twelve to twenty-four hours, though, so ya might want to get comfortable and pray for a miracle.” The nurse sat quietly after sharing what she knew, updating Matt’s information into the computer.   

“My, sweet boy, what happened to you?” Marlene swept her long brown hair over her shoulder allowing her hand to fall to her chest. 

Charles walked around to Matt’s other side, taking his other hand, “He’s a strong young man. He’ll pull through,” he said with as much certainty as he could muster.

My effort to avoid staring was eased by tears and blurred vision, knowing the pain in the room was evenly distributed.

Hade excused herself, and another nurse came in and introduced herself as Cora. She was a pale redhead, maybe my age. She had no news to share as she went over his charts.

We all sat silently waiting, waiting for information about Matt’s condition and needs.

It was just after one a.m. when I decided to leave his parents a while in peace and lament in privacy.

“We’ll call you if we hear anything. Get some rest, sweetie,” Marlene said, reaching for my hand. Her eyes drooped in anguish. 

Charles stood and hugged me. “Good night.”

Truthfully, I didn’t want to leave. I wanted to curl up next to Matt and hold him in my arms. But that wasn’t an option, nor was spending the night with the limited space.

***

O
verwhelmed and exhausted, I needed to disappear into an abysmal, deep sleep and was about to do just that with the help of my sleeping pill.

Nine hours of sleep later, I fumbled through the sheets for my phone. I had tons of new emails, missed calls from Martha, Vance, and nine missed calls from Aimee. I heard a long series of small knocks at the door and hobbled to answer it.

“What in tarnation!” Aimee greeted me with the morning newspaper, coffee, and a baffled expression. “Why did I not hear this from you?”

I reached, grabbing the coffees from the holder. “I haven’t even wrapped my mind around it,” I grumbled and yawned. Quickly handing back her coffee, I grabbed the paper realizing the accident would be covered.

I hobbled to the table and flipped through the paper until I found the article.

“Fatal accident with killing one, severely injuring survivor. At five fifty-eight, yesterday afternoon, a fatal accident involving three cars occurred at the corner of West Blvd. and S Tryon St. The deceased, 87-year-old Richard Mayor, a retired Navy veteran, was pronounced dead at the Charlotte Mecklenburg Hospital. The survivor, 25-year-old Matthew Stephens, a Charlotte Firefighter, was driving northbound when Mayor failed to stop at the light, according to authorities. Stephens is listed in critical condition. A third driver involved hit the rear passenger side of Stephens’ vehicle but did not require medical attention.” I folded the paper then grabbed my cellphone and opened the map app searching for the location. “Matt was heading here.”