A man who looks to be the youngest obliges, lifting the head of the bed up so I feel at least a little more in control.
“Where is the morgue?”
“What do you mean, ma’am? We’re going to get you into a room and do a few tests, but I’m sure you’ll be on your way in no time. No need to ask about the morgue.”
“I don’t care about me. Like I said before, I need to see Lincoln Wilds.” For Turner, at the very least. My stomach flips when I think about the boy. How his life is going to be altered from here on out. I’ll make sure to give him all of the love I can. It’s what Lincoln would want, but I know it won’t be enough. They wheel me through double doors and directly into a pocket where they shut the curtain, concealing what’s on either side and in front of me.
The medic says something to the RN, leaning in so I can’t hear, and then vanishes.
“How are you feeling? Do you have any family you can call or we can call for you? So you’re not alone right now?”
Ramona. Oh, my God. She has to be in unbearable, immeasurable pain. I lost Lincoln, but I’ve lost to a great degree before, Ramona doesn’t remember when she lost her parents as a child. This is going to be the greatest loss of her life.
“Ramona,” I say in a rush, palming my jeans to see if my burner phone made it. Of course not. “Ramona. She might be here already. She lost her… friend. Boyfriend. Stavros. Tall guy, bullet hole to the chest,” I explain hotly. I’m motioning to my body as I talk. “He died. He died, too. The other man injured on the scene. She’s here. Please find her. I need her.”She needs me.
The nurse nods, a confused look on her face as she connects a drip bag to the IV I didn’t know I had. They must have inserted it while I was out. “Please stay down. Relax. You don’t have any signs of a concussion, but we’re going to hydrate you to help combat the… shock. I will find Ramona if she is here. I promise.” She touches my shoulder. I believe her.
“Thank you. Thank you.”
I’m momentarily distracted from my quest to see Lincoln’s body by the realization that my best friend is in agony. It’s not the type of pain that you can numb with alcohol or pills. You can’t massage it away or block it from your mind. It lives in every breath you take. In every step you take. In every word you speak. You can’t hide from it, bury it, or run from it. I’ve tried, and I’m weary from the burden and effort. A burden I’ll now carry two-fold. Oh, my sweet, beautiful man. My breathing ragged, the knot in my stomach gnaws at me. Who will tell his parents?Isaac.I call it the loss tsunami. After a loved one passes, it is only then that you realize how many lives they touched, and not a moment sooner. The news spreads like a communicable disease, causing grief that spans far and wide. It takes all of us under, leaving nothing but carnage and desolation in its wake.
Ramona will feel this, know this, be forced to embrace it. Will she overcome it, or will she be swallowed alive by it? My job will be to keep us both afloat. I’ve been alone with my thoughts for longer than I realized because the machine controlling the saline bag is beeping out a ballad of discontent. The nurse returns and unhooks the empty bag.
“We’re not supposed to let anyone in these rooms, but your friend Ramona is on her way.”
I meet her eyes for the first time and see the sympathy, and I’m transported back to my childhood and recall the nurse that saved me that time. Like a cat, orphans seem to have many lives.
“Thank you so much.” I will her to feel the emotion behind it.
She nods, then looks away. She slides the curtain halfway open and leaves it that way before leaving. It takes three deep breaths before Ramona appears wearily, peeking in. She closes the curtain behind her and crawls onto the slim bed and cuddles in next to me.
I jolt from the contact, but let her warmness envelop me. “I’m so sorry, Ramona. I’m so sorry. This has to be unbearable.”
“You’ve been through this, so I need to know if this pain goes away. How long exactly it takes to go away, and if I’ll ever be normal inside again.”
I find it odd she says nothing about Lincoln, but decide against bringing it up. As expected, she’s lost in her own tsunami. “I could lie and tell you that it goes away, but it doesn’t. Not really. It changes over time until the grief resembles something tactile. Something you can apply to your life.” I choke up, thinking how I’m going to have to take my own advice. “Then when you have something worth holding on to again, you love a little harder.” I sniffle. “Because you now understand that time is the one thing you have no control over, and it dictates everything. Everything.” I whisper the last word and hug her close. “I’m not going to tell you that it’s going to be okay or apologize for your loss. That’s never helpful. It’s just polite.”
Ramona is sobbing quietly into my hair. “I can’t stop thinking about one thing.” She pops her head up to meet my eyes. “That bastard died for love. Out of all the messed-up things he did to me over the years, I knew I was the one for him. I knew, Maeve. You don’t understand why I kept going back to him, but this is why.” She drags her arm across her face to wipe snot on her sweatshirt sleeve. “The ultimate apology. The one thing he could do to prove to me how much I meant to him. He put himself in between me and the gun. I meant… everything to him, Maeve.”
I get it now. She told me it was different with him and I didn’t understand how a man so unfaithful could keep such a hold on her. He died for love, and he did it without question.
I swallow down the lump in my throat. “Listen, they were both good men.”
Ramona looks at me, quizzically. “You mean Stavros and Rexy?”
Furrowing my brow, I hesitate, blinking. “Lincoln died, Maeve. Didn’t they tell you?”
She looks baffled, face twisted in confusion. “What, like since I’ve been in here with you? He wasn’t dead when I saw him on my way to see you here.”
I feel screams of relief at the back of my throat. “They told me he died. That he didn’t make it. The medic in the ambulance. No one told me differently since I’ve been here.”
Ramona listens in bewilderment. “Wait, you thought Lincoln died, and you didn’t say anything until right now? You don’t think I would have brought that up first? Maeve.” It’s a sweet, low tone. “Lincoln was heading into surgery, but the doctors said he’s going to be okay. He was even awake squawking for you. The medic must have confused Stavros and Lincoln.”
It’s an odd feeling to feel such joy when my friend is at her lowest low, but I can’t help but smile as ugly tears rear their head. “Oh, my God. I can’t believe this. I thought it happened again.”
“What did I say?” Ramona says, running her hand through my hair. “You deserve only happiness and light. The universe won’t do that to you, again.”
I sit up straight.