The doctor continued, undeterred by the look of confusion on Rick’s face. “I’ve seen people with worse recover completely, but I’ve also seen people with less not recover well at all. You’re young and strong, so we are very optimistic. Now, that’s not the only thing you broke, but it is the most concerning for right now. While I can’t say how well you will recover, I can say that you’ve got a long road ahead of you.” The doctor stood and continued, “You rest now. I’ll come back a little later, and we will talk some more about your recovery.” He turned to Erin, “Don’t let him talk much, he needs to rest.”
Erin nodded as the doctor walked to the door, but just before he left, he turned and said, “Just call the nurses if you need anything.”
Erin returned to his side and took his hand again, and Devon sat in the chair vacated by Dr. Howard. Rick could only speak with great effort, so he listened as they filled him in on the events of the past week. He learned a passerby saw his tire tracks in the snow going off the road. The police figured he remained trapped in his car for several hours before his rescuer summoned help. He listened for a while, but soon, his eyes began to close on their own accord, and he didn’t hear any more of the story.
Chapter Fourteen
When Rick next awoke, Erin still sat by his bed, sleeping with her arm stretched toward him in the dimly lit room. Very thirsty, and his head throbbing in pain, he carefully reached out and pushed the red button to summon a nurse. Thirty seconds later, a nurse came bustling through the door of his room. Seeing Erin sleeping, the nurse quieted her motions and slowed her pace. In a hushed voice, she asked Rick how he was doing.
“I’m really thirsty, and can I have something for pain?” he asked, his voice still hoarse.
“We have you on a morphine drip, but I’ll see if we can increase the dosage. Will ice chips be okay for now? Doctor wants you to start off easy on the drinking.”
Rick nodded in reply, as Erin began to stir in her chair. The nurse hustled out of the room, and he closed his eyes again. Why did his head hurt so bad if it was his back that was broken? But when he began to focus in on all the places he ached, he realized the pounding in his head was just the most annoying, and therefore, the most noticeable. His back did hurt – his right arm, leg, and shoulder hurt almost as bad, but his head hurt the most.
The nurse returned and set a cup of ice chips on the table beside his bed. She adjusted his IV settings, and said the pain should be less noticeable shortly. Erin sat up in her chair and smiled, and though he tried to smile back, he knew it was more of a grimace. The nurse handed the cup of ice chips to Erin. “Did I wake you, hun? Do you want to help him with these?” The nurse wrote something on Rick’s chart while Erin pulled her chair closer to the bed. When the nurse left the room, Erin began spooning the ice chips to Rick.
“How are you?” she asked.
“I’ve been better, I’m not gonna lie.”
“You sound a little better than you did earlier.”
“It hurts...”
“I know it does Ricky. I wish I could make it go away for you.”
She forced a fragile smile, and Rick could see she was on the verge of tears again, so he changed the subject. “So, they left you in charge of me, huh?”
“Devon left at the end of visiting hours. While you were sleeping, Keith and Randy were here. They stayed for a while but left with Devon. They are so worried about you – they’ve been here all week. I told them to go get some sleep and come back in the morning.”
“What about you? Why didn’t you leave to sleep? You look exhausted.”
“I wanted to be here when you woke up. I’m okay, I’ve been sleeping here.” Rick could tell she needed more than a few hours of chair sleep. “Kostas said to tell you he wishes he could be here for you. He sent you those flowers over there,” she pointed to a table by the window, but there were at least ten vases of flowers. “The pink and purple bouquet,” she said. The pain was lessening now, so Rick looked around the room. He hadn’t noticed before, but the place was full of flowers, stuffed animals, balloons, and cards.
“Holy shit! Who sent all these?”
“Friends – friends from all over. You should see all the stuff at your house! You’ve had fans sending all kinds of gifts too. We put some in your house, some at Devon’s. Once the story came out in the papers that you weren’t dead, gifts and cards have been pouring in.”
“Weren’t dead?”
“Well, at first they reported you were killed in the accident...”
“But you knew I wasn’t, right?”
“Not at first,” the tears returned to her eyes, and this time, she couldn’t hold them back. “I heard it on the news before Devon got ahold of me,” she sobbed, laying her head on his bed.
The morphine was kicking in, and although he didn’t feel as much pain, Erin was making him very emotional, and soon he felt tears of his own pouring down his face. “I’m so sorry Erin,” he said, smoothing her hair.
Looking up, she attempted a smile, but when she saw he was crying, she started to laugh. “You’re crying! I’ve never seen you cry before, not since you were a kid, anyway.”
Rick felt his face flush, but his tears still fell. “I don’t know what’s wrong with me, I can’t stop. This is humiliating,” he muttered.
“Don’t worry Ricky, I’m sure it’s just the medicine, it won’t last forever.”
“I hope not. I’m gonna sleep some more, Erin. I’m really tired.”
~
It was mid-morning, and Erin sat on Rick’s bed reading his cards, the stack nearly a foot high. Everyone he knew, it seemed, sent a card wishing him a speedy recovery. There was even a card from Larry and Judy, but nothing about Shelby. He learned from Erin that they were back from Greece, living in the States.
One card Erin opened, looked at, and quickly shuffled to the back of the pile. Some color drained from her face. Rick knew the card was from their father, and he hoped Erin would throw it away when they were finished.
“Can we read the rest later?”
“Sure, are you getting tired?”
“Little bit...” His arm was beginning to throb again. Through the course of the morning, Rick learned he broke not only his back, but also his right arm, his right leg, his collarbone, and he had a severe concussion. He could only stay awake for a short period before becoming drowsy.
“Why don’t you go to my place for a while? Take a nap, get in a shower, rest.”
“I might a little later. The guys will be here after a while. Maybe when they come I’ll take off for a bit.”
“You should,” he said, drifting off again.
~
That afternoon, as promised, the guys all came to see him and Erin left not long after. Very talkative and animated, the three were obviously relieved at Rick’s improved condition, and finally seeing him awake. He felt sick at the worry he’d given them. They all sported dark circles under their eyes and looked a little gaunt, but Devon looked the worst. Through all their joking around, he never managed a full smile, and the smile he did offer seemed worn down.
“You should see your car, man,” Keith said, shaking his head. “When you see it you’ll be as amazed as we are that we’re even talking to you!”
“Yeah, I think you’re gonna need some new wheels. That’s if they let you drive again,” Randy said.
Rick still didn’t remember the accident. When he tried, he could only remember the dreams he’d had on the bus and the dream where he didn’t want Erin to tell his dad he died.
Goddamn news people
, he thought, remembering the look that crossed Erin’s face when she opened the card from him.
“They tell you how long you’re gonna be in here yet?” asked Keith.
“Not really, they don’t know. I may have to have surgery on my back. They want to wait and see how well I can move. If I have to have surgery, it may be longer before I can go home.”
“What about your arm and stuff?” Devon pointed to his own neck.
“I guess one piece of my collarbone broke off and is pretty close to my jugular, but they think it will move back without operating. They figure it should heal up pretty well since I’ll be immobile anyway. They’re gonna cast my arm and leg in a few days – want to wait until they do some tests on the rest of me, I guess.”
“Jesus, Ricky, you are one sorry son of a bitch.” Devon said.
“A lucky son of a bitch, if you ask me,” Keith corrected.
“Yeah, that too, I guess.”
Devon had something on his mind, something he wanted to say, but couldn’t bring himself to do it. When Rick tried to think what it might be, it didn’t take long to figure it out. They would have to start work on the new album soon, and he knew Devon would be anxious about it. Rick figured he’d bring it up first and save Devon from having to pluck up the courage.
“You know, you should see if you can get Todd Henderson to work on the album with you guys. He’s the best bass player I know, and we can’t afford to wait on me.”
“No, you’re the best bass player,” Randy told him, “We can wait till you get healed up, can’t we?” He looked to Devon and Keith for agreement, but found none.
“If we wait, it will put us behind schedule, and we already have tour dates set up for this fall,” Devon reminded him.
“We can change some dates, they’re far enough out. I want to wait for Ricky.”
“You guys work with Todd, he’ll do it. We have enough ready for the album that it shouldn’t take much to finish it. You guys do that, and who knows, maybe I’ll be up and around to do some shows this winter.”
Randy shook his head. Rick knew he didn’t like the idea of bringing in someone to take his place, but he also knew Randy would eventually see the logic. “We’ve already got most of the songs,” he assured Randy, “just get Todd to help record them. He’ll do fine. I can’t focus on getting better if I know you guys are waiting on me. I need to be able to take my time.”
Randy walked to the window, hands on his hips, visibly upset. One of Randy’s best qualities was his loyalty. He’d always thought of them as the four musketeers, but Rick knew this was the best way to go. Turning to face the others, Randy said, “I’ll go along with it, but I want my objection noted.”
“It’s noted,” Devon said.
“It’s really not that big a deal Randy,” Rick said.
“It is! You guys don’t see it, but it’s like, like the beginning of the end.”
“It’s not the end, or even the beginning of it,” Keith assured him. “It’s just a small hurdle we have to jump. It will all work out okay, you’ll see. Our boy here will be back on top in no time.”
Randy was quiet the rest of the visit. The tension was thick, and no one could make the atmosphere any lighter. None of them liked the idea of Rick not being involved with the album, especially since it was the first album they would record locally, in their own studio. They usually traveled to Muscle Shoals, Alabama to record. While the town was famous for the music it produced, they had never been comfortable there, and the recordings always felt rushed. They finally had the resources to record where and when they wanted, and Rick would miss it.
The visit ended abruptly when Randy announced he had an appointment to get his tires rotated. They promised to visit again the following day, and left Rick alone with his thoughts. It was the first time he had been alone in the hospital, and he was glad for the break from visitors. Unfortunately, he was asleep within the first five minutes.
Chapter Fifteen
“So what’s the problem with Todd?” Rick asked as Randy pushed him along the hospital hallway toward the smoking lounge.
“He doesn’t listen to anyone, he thinks he knows what’s best, but it’s our fucking track,” Randy complained.
“You know, I don’t listen to anyone either...”
“Yeah, but you do it right all on your own. You know how it
should
sound, even when we don’t.”
“Turn left here,” Rick said. “I really don’t understand how he could be changing it that much. It’s a pretty basic chord progression.”
“He just is. He doesn’t work well with others.”
“He doesn’t work well with others, or you don’t
want
to work with others?”
Randy chuckled. “I don’t know, I just know it would go a lot smoother if you were there.”
“Next one, I promise. No excuses.” Rick pointed to the elevator, “It’s on the first floor.”
“I don’t know why you don’t just quit. You went, what, a week and a half, two weeks without a smoke? Should a just stayed off ‘em.”
“Not much to do in here. You wouldn’t believe how excited a guy can get about a trip to the smoking lounge.”
“I’d a quit if it was me.”
“I doubt it...”
The elevator door opened to a different floor plan. Rick pointed to the right and Randy pushed the chair that way. He then pointed to a door at the far end of the hallway, and stenciled on the door was SMOKER’S LOUNGE. As they entered, the oppressive stench of stale cigarette smoke hit them like a wave.
“Wow, they need to work on the ventilation in this place,” Randy said. Rick hated the smell of the room too, but could live with it. The first drag of a cigarette after the accident was just as repulsive, but he overcame his distaste after only a few cigarettes.
Randy spun him around and headed back out the door. “What the hell? What are you doing?”
“We’re on the main floor, why don’t we just go outside? It’s beautiful out.” Rick hadn’t been outside since the accident, in fact, the thought hadn’t even crossed his mind, but now that the prospect of fresh air was an option, he couldn’t wait to reach the door. When they found the exit, Rick kicked the door open with his un-casted foot as Randy pushed him through.
He felt like a kid getting out of school for summer vacation when he burst through the door. As the sunshine hit his face, warmth spread throughout his body, and he realized he hadn’t felt truly warm since he’d first woken up in the hospital. Rick breathed deeply, letting the invigorating, spring breeze penetrate his lungs. The scent of the flower garden’s early blooms infused the air.
Randy pushed him to a bench by a fountain, set the brake on the chair, and took a seat. He lit them both a cigarette, and handing Rick his, said “Now, isn’t this better than that stinking, fucking, smoking room?”