she’d done the day before. She didn’t, though. She continued to stare at me, but she didn’t speak. There wasn’t any recognition in her eyes. Just confusion. “Hi,” I said again.
She blinked and in that instant came back from wherever she’d been.
“Tom?” she said, voice a raspy croak.
“Hey, Bobbi,” I said, throat tight, eyes burning. “Welcome back.”
“Where have I …?” She licked her dry, cracked lips. “Can I have a drink of water?”
Matthias handed me a cup with a bent drinking straw. “Just a sip,” he said.
Her eyes swivelled toward him, but her lips closed around the tip of the straw. She sipped and swallowed, sipped and swallowed, then released the straw.
“Hello, Greg,” she said, voice a bit less raspy.
“Hello, Bobbi. How do you feel?”
She looked at me, as if uncertain how to answer the question.
“I’ll get a doctor,” Greg said and went to the door.
“I know this is going to sound stupid,” Bobbi said, “but where am I?” She looked around. “It looks like a hospital room.”
“It is,” I said. “You’re in the Vancouver General.”
“What happened? Did I have an accident?” She tried to sit up, sending the monitors into panic mode. She fell back. “Christ, I feel like shit.” She reached up to touch her face. “My face feels funny when I talk.”
“You’re pretty banged up,” I said.
“Am I — am I going to be okay?”
“Sure, you’re going to be just fine.”
“Then why are you crying?”
I rubbed my nose. “Allergies.”
Matthias came back into the room with a nurse. She glanced at the machines beside the bed as she took Bobbi’s hand and said, “How do you feel, dear?”
“Like I’ve been hit by a truck,” Bobbi said. She looked at me. “Was I?”
“No,” I said.
Another woman came into the room, an attractive Indian doctor I’d seen around, about forty, with the most amazing eyes, huge and inky black. Her photo ID badge identified her as Dr. I.R. Sandra. She shooed Matthias and me out of the room.
“She doesn’t remember what happened,” I said in the hall.
“It could take some time.”
The door opened and Dr. Sandra came out. “You can go back in now,” she said. “She’s going to be fine. We’ll leave the monitors on for the time being. Don’t let her drink too much water. Just little sips. And don’t be surprised if she goes back to sleep. Normal sleep. She’ll likely wake up starving.”
Matthias and I went back in. The nurse was adjusting the bed, propping Bobbi up a bit. She looked better already, more colour in her face, life in her eyes.
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