He hadn’t asked exactly what happened, knew there’d been an accident, but he wasn’t ready to hear the details yet. He knew he was pretty fucked up, that much was obvious, but didn’t even want to know all those facts either. He was content to sleep and sip his drinks and lie there and listen to Nevvie’s chatter at night or feel Tyler holding his hand during the day.
None of those activities required the exhausting activity of stringing conscious, cohesive thoughts together.
* * * *
Thomas looked at his mom and Karen when they visited one morning. For once he felt coherent enough to talk. He’d heard the doctor and nurse talking about backing off on his pain medication, so maybe that was a side effect. “Hey.”
Peggy smiled and kissed him. “You look more awake today.”
“I feel more awake.”
“You know how to put more grey in my hair, don’t you?” Peggy teased.
“Sorry.”
Karen leaned in to kiss him. “How you feeling, baby brother?”
“How are they?” He knew damn well Nevvie wasn’t telling him everything. Tyler probably wouldn’t either.
Peggy patted his hand. “A lot better the past few days, now that you’re awake.”
“What happened? The accident.”
She froze. “How much do you remember?”
He slowly shook his head. “I sort of remember getting off the interstate in Tampa. Nothing else.”
“That’s probably a good thing. You were a mess.”
He lifted his left arm and touched his head where a small dressing covered the surgical wound.
His right arm didn’t want to work that well this morning.
He knew he’d need a haircut, but wasn’t brave enough to ask for a mirror yet. “Still am a mess.” It felt difficult to talk, like he had to hunt for the words and focus on them before he could push them out his mouth.
“Honey, you were in a coma for two weeks. That’s to be expected. You won’t be salsa dancing any time soon. You’ve got to heal.”
“Tyler?”
“Do we really need to worry about that?”
“Mom.”
She sighed, recognizing the stubborn set to his jaw, and retold the events. “What’s important is he’s alive, he’s gonna be just fine, and so will you.”
He rested against his pillows. “Poor Nev. You were right. I shouldn’t have taken the bike.”
Karen laughed. “Tommy, now I know you’re brain damaged. You admitted Momma was right.”
He managed a rough laugh. “Yeah.”
Karen patted his shoulder. “You just focus on getting better. Those two need you. Tyler’s been as worried about you as Nevvie. He needs you as much as she does, bro.”
“Was it my fault? The accident?”
Peggy shook her head. “No, sugar. One of the ER doctors saw it happen. The guy pulled right out in front of you. Talking on his cell phone.”
“Charges?”
He spotted the nervous look Peggy and Karen shared. She didn’t answer.
“Mom.”
“They buried him three days after the accident. He died on impact, sugar. I’m sorry.”
He claimed he wanted to go to sleep a few minutes later, waiting until they’d left him alone to close his eyes and cry. Someone died because of him? It didn’t matter the accident was the other guy’s fault. If he’d taken the fucking truck in the first place, instead of being stubborn about it, none of this would have happened. The guy would have seen him. Or at the very least he wouldn’t have been hurt and he’d be taking care of Tyler and Nevvie, without this additional fucking stress on them.
Fuck.
He’d set his mind about the bike when his mom started grousing about it. He had thought about taking the truck instead, but that old stubborn streak of his, when Momma asked him not to take the bike, that made his mind up for him.
By the time Nevvie and Tyler returned later that morning he’d pulled himself together. Tyler waited until Nevvie left Tom’s bedside to consult with the physical therapist to lean in close.
“Talk to me, love.”
Thomas struggled to focus his eyes on him. “What?”
“What’s bothering you today? You look upset.”
He should have known Tyler would pick up on his mood. “That guy died because of me.”
Tyler shook his head. “No. That man died because he’d worked an extra shift and had very little sleep. He was on the phone, fighting with his girlfriend. It was not in any way your fault.”
“Did he have kids?”
“Thomas—”
“Did he have kids?”
“One. With his ex-wife.”
Thomas looked away and tried to hide his tears.
“Love, it wasn’t your fault. Do not feel guilty about this.”
“I killed a guy and you’re telling me not to feel guilty?”
Tyler’s tone hardened. “You didn’t kill him. It was an accident. He pulled out in front of you.”
“I should have taken the truck. I almost did.”
“Stop.” Thomas finally looked at him. “Love, you are going through a lot right now, emotionally and physically. You’ve only been awake and aware a few days. Your focus should be on getting better so we can bring you home where you belong. No one blames you for what happened. That’s why they’re called accidents.”
Thomas didn’t respond, but he couldn’t quit thinking about the fact that there was now a child out there without a father because of a decision he’d made.
Because of his pride.
* * * *
A week after they brought him out of the coma, Thomas was transferred to a private room on the floor. The private room was a lot better than the ICU. Everyone could visit at the same time when they wanted, and they could close the door for privacy. He hated physical therapy and knew from the way Nevvie hung on the PT’s every word that she would be as tough as any drill sergeant.
He loved her for it even if he hated the exercises.
He still felt weaker than hell and needed help eating most of the time. His coordination hadn’t improved much from when he first awoke. When Tom tried to sign his name to a hospital form, he found he couldn’t hold the pen.
Nevvie came in every night around midnight and napped in bed with him, the only bright spot of his day. He soon started sleeping much of his afternoons away so he could lie awake and stare at her, enjoy having her with him. During one of their few alone times together, Tyler assured Thomas she’d done the same thing with him.
The occupational therapist worked with Thomas on his dexterity. Handwriting was the worst, because he could barely grip a pen. Beyond frustrated, one afternoon he threw the pen across the room and had a mini temper tantrum while Nevvie quietly looked on. Their appointment was almost over anyway, so the therapist gave him a break and told him she’d return the next day.
He wouldn’t meet Nevvie’s gaze when she sat at the end of the bed. “It’s okay, Tommy.”
“No, it’s not okay! I can’t fucking get out of bed by myself. I can barely fucking walk with a goddamned walker.” His anger simmered, bubbling over. “Just…leave me alone for a while, okay?”
The doctors had warned them Thomas might have outbursts of anger. Some of it genuine, some of it possibly due to his brain injury.
Nevvie nodded. She leaned over and kissed him. “I need to pick up Tyler downstairs from his cardiac rehab appointment. I’ll go home and see how everyone is. We’ll come back to visit later.”
He snorted in disgust. “Yeah, come visit the gimp.”
“Stop it.” She squeezed his hand. “We love you. We’re just grateful you’re alive, you have no idea.”
His anger dissolved. He slumped back in the bed and cried. “Nevvie, babe, I’m sorry.”
She carefully curled up next to him and held him while he cried. “It’s okay to be upset. We’re here for you, every step of the way, Tommy. I swear we are.”
“This fucking sucks for you.”
She shrugged. “After what happened that day, believe me, having both of you awake again is a walk in the park. Trust me. We’ll do whatever we’ve got to do to get you home. Don’t rush it.” She kissed him.
“How is he? Really, is he okay?”
She smiled and brushed the hair away from his forehead. “Evil Genius says he’s fine, his doctors say he’s recovering right on schedule. So you just chill out and enjoy being the center of attention, mister.”
She kissed him again and carefully got out of bed. Alone in his room, he tried using one of the hand exercisers they’d brought him. When Nevvie learned about them from the physical therapist, she’d gone out and bought several different ones in various resistance levels. He could—barely—manage the lightest one after working up to it from a gelly squeeze ball. Now at least he could usually feed himself if the food didn’t require cutting.
When his arms cooperated.
Two weeks after awaking from the coma, Thomas was finally free of IVs and on oral pain meds. He could walk to the end of the hall if he had a walker and someone to keep a steady arm around him. Nevvie usually hovered for this task, constantly sniping at Tyler to sit down and rest when he tried to do too much. Some more hand strength had returned, but not much in the way of dexterity. In fact, books Nevvie brought for him to read remained unread because he got too frustrated by not being able to easily turn the pages.
He didn’t tell her.
Then there was the guilt. During one of his physical therapy walks, when Nevvie was with Tyler at a doctor appointment, Thomas had overheard two of the housekeeping staff talking about the man he’d killed, Antonio Juarez. The staff was holding a fundraiser for his young son.
“I need to go sit down,” Thomas whispered through clenched teeth.
The therapist looked worried. “We’re almost done—”
“Now.”
“Okay.” She helped him turn around and make his way back to his room. “Are you all right?”
“I just need to be alone for a while.”
“Did you want me to call your wife?”
“No.”
She left. Thomas didn’t bother turning on the TV, just laid there staring at the ceiling. One fucking decision ruined so many lives. Again he remembered that morning, how he’d almost changed his mind and thought maybe he would take the truck until Momma chimed in about the bike.
Then his pride wouldn’t let him not take the bike. Just like when he was a kid. Stupid fucking ego. And now…
He closed his eyes, hating himself.
Chapter Fourteen
Karen returned to Savannah three weeks after Tommy awoke. She had to take care of things at home. Nevvie gave her another large check and made her sister-in-law promise to tell her if she needed more. She would return in four days, then Peggy would go home. The other sisters, except for Emily, had come back to visit Thomas in the hospital. Eddie was now a regular fixture around the house, either helping by taking care of Adam, shuttling Tyler to doctor or cardiac rehab appointments, or just in general being there to help prevent Nevvie from collapsing out of sheer exhaustion.
One morning when Eddie arrived at the house for baby duty, Nevvie hugged him long and hard. “Do you know how much I love you?” she asked.
Eddie hugged her back. “Hey, kiddo, you’re the closest thing I’m going to have to babies for a while. You’re stuck with me.”
She laughed and wiped her eyes. “I’d marry you if we weren’t both taken. You make a fantastic wife.”
He grinned. “Sorry, sweetie. I love you, but you’re not my type.” He kissed her cheek. “You don’t have the right parts.”
She roared with laughter. Now, with Thomas out of the woods and on the mend, Eddie had devoted himself to making her laugh as if his babysitting duties weren’t enough of a blessing to her.
Tyler emerged from the bedroom. “What are you out here cackling about, love?”
Nevvie grinned. “I just propositioned Eddie and he turned me down.”
Tyler laughed. “I would hope so. I’m rather territorial. I’m not about to share you or Thomas with anyone else.” He winked at Eddie. “Not even you, mate. Sorry.”
Eddie gently slapped him on the back. “Throw him in, Nev, maybe I could turn a blind eye to your shortcomings.”
She’d started to take a sip of coffee. At Eddie’s quip she choked and snorted it through her nose. Fortunately for her, it had cooled somewhat already. She laughed, long and hard until both men realized a moment later she was crying.
They crowded close, both hugging her as she cried. Tyler handed her a dishtowel. “Are you all right, love?”
“Other than losing my fucking mind, I’m fine.”
Nevvie spent most of the day with Tyler, shuttling him to appointments and taking care of things at the office while Peggy stayed with Tommy at the hospital. Later that afternoon, Eddie brought Adam home and stayed with Tyler until Nevvie swapped off with Peggy.
Tommy looked at her. “Why don’t you go home, babe?”
“Why? Are you sick of me?” she teased. “Don’t want any more sponge baths?”
He lay back in bed and closed his eyes. “You should go home and get some rest.”
Nevvie sat next to his bed. “Talk to me.”
“Go home.”
“Why?”
“Because Tyler needs you.”
“You need me.”
“I’m okay. Not like I’m going anywhere,” he grumbled.
“You need your bath.” Peggy had already told Nevvie he wouldn’t let her shave him that morning. Stubble shadowed his cheeks.
“I’m fine.”
Maybe the playful approach would work. “Are you going to let me play naughty nurse today? Give you a bath?” She gently goosed him. When he grabbed her wrist and pushed her away, it startled her.
“I’m not in the mood, Nevvie.” He wouldn’t look at her.
“I’m sorry. I was just playing—”
“You know what? Go home, get some sleep. You look like a fucking zombie.”
Her stomach hardened, she felt blood race to her cheeks. “Tommy? What’s wrong?”
“Nothing’s wrong except the world fucking sucks right now, okay? So just go home and leave me alone. I want to be alone for a while. Don’t come back tonight either.” He closed his eyes and refused to look at or talk to her.
Her whole body trembling, she finally stood and quietly gathered her things. “I’m sorry, Tommy. I didn’t mean…” She quickly walked out before he could hear her cry. She knew he had a lot of emotional shit going on, between his injuries and rehab. She didn’t want to dump more on him.
When she got to the car she sat behind the wheel and cried for ten minutes before finally starting it and heading home.
* * * *
Thomas heard the tears in her voice, but wouldn’t look at her. If he did that he’d feel even shittier than he already did. She shouldn’t have to be his fucking nurse, she already had so much to take care of. The baby, Tyler, the business.
Why not act like an asshole? He already felt like a piece of shit. He felt guilty he’d hurt her feelings, and he knew she was just trying to be playful. Hell, he’d already screwed up their lives anyway, why not one more thing to feel guilty about while he was at it?
He used the hospital phone to call Tyler’s cell.
“Well hello, handsome.”
Thomas ignored the endearment. “Keep her home tonight, Ty,” he said by way of greeting.
Tyler hesitated. “What’s wrong?”
“Just keep her home. She looks like shit. Make her stay home and sleep.”
“Love, what’s going on?”
“Nothing’s going on, goddammit. I’m not a fucking kid. I don’t need a goddamned babysitter at night. Make her stay home with you.” He slammed the phone down on the rolling tray.
Tyler looked at the phone. He’d noticed over the past few days that Tom’s mood had darkened, but between the logistical issues of not being
able to drive, his own doctor appointments, and juggling the schedule so someone stayed with him and the baby, he hadn’t had time to sit down and talk to Tom about it.
Peggy was out in the kitchen. “What’s wrong?”
Tyler shook his head. “I think our boy is in a foul mood.”
She snorted. “Yeah. If he wasn’t in pain I’d take a damn switch to his hide.” She sighed. “He’ll be okay when y’all get him home. He’s tired of being in the hospital.”
“I hope that’s all.”
Nevvie walked in and hurried past the kitchen without a look their way. He shared a glance with Peggy, then followed Nevvie to their bedroom.
She was already in the shower. “Are you all right, love?” It was odd for her to shower in the afternoon when she’d already had one that morning.
“I’m fine, Tyler.” Her voice didn’t sound right. When he stuck his head into the shower, Nevvie turned her back to him. “I’ll be out in a little while.”
She sounded anything but fine, her voice too tight and strained.
“What happened?”
“Nothing.”
“Then why did he just call here a few minutes ago, asking me to keep you home tonight?”
Her shoulders slumped. She leaned against the wall and cried.
He quickly shed his own clothes and stepped in with her, holding her as she cried against him.
“It’s okay, love.”
“I just want to take care of him, get him home. I don’t know what I did that upset him. What did I do?”
He kissed her temple. “You didn’t do anything wrong, I’m sure. He’s going through a stage, that’s all.”
The next morning, Nevvie arose before Tyler and quickly showered, dressed, and left for the hospital. Maybe if she got there early, when Thomas had pain meds and before his physical therapy, he might be in a better mood.
His untouched breakfast sat on the rolling tray. He stared at the TV with a grim look on his face.