Perhaps she’s desperate coming off a bad breakup. Whatever it is, as good looking as Nurse Jackie is, I’m not interested. She’s a bit too young and immature for my liking. Besides, Abby needs me and I love her.
The next morning, my doctor comes in with Nurse Jackie and gives me one final checkup.
“Well Andrew, everything looks good. I think you’re all set to go. I still don’t think you’re quite ready to drive a car yet, so if you want to leave the hospital and go home, your parents will need to drive you. I would recommend you take it easy for a day or two more, and then you can resume whatever it is you need or want to do.”
“Thank you, doctor,” I tell him. “You guys have been amazing, and I’m so thankful for you and your staff for all the work you’ve done to get me to this point.”
“It’s my pleasure,” he says. “I wish you the best.” With that, he walks out of the room. I can tell that while I’ll never forget him, he won’t be able to pick me out of a line-up a year from now.
Now it’s just Nurse Jackie and me, which I have to admit is starting to make me a bit uncomfortable.
“Well Andrew, I’m really going to miss you. You take care of yourself, OK?”
“Uhh, sure thing, Nurse Jackie.”
She giggles, “Oh, you can just call me Jackie now.”
“Sure thing, Jackie,” I tell her.
As soon as I say it, she gives me a big hug. The standard hug, I would say, lasts a few seconds at most. After ten seconds, though, I open my mouth to try and say something, but can’t think of anything that isn’t stupid. To my relief, she finally lets go and I can see on her face she’s crying.
“I really am going to miss you, Andrew. You’ve been my favorite patient I’ve ever had.”
“You’re young, Jackie. I’m sure there will be plenty of great patients to come along in the future.” Of course, when I say “patients” I really mean something else. It’s my subtle and kind way of saying, “Back off sister, I’m married.”
I don’t know if the same message carries through to her. She asks again if I need any more help, and I say I’m fine. Then, we say our goodbyes and she walks out of the room.
My parents soon greet me, and my mom has a huge grin on her face. I don’t think she’s been this happy in her entire life. We’ve already had the discussion, but she asks again anyway.
“Andrew, are you sure you want to go home now? They say Abby is starting to get better.”
“I’m fine mom, I’ll come back in a couple days. I just want to go home. I miss my Wifi connection,” I joke to try to ease the mood. Apparently, it’s enough to get her off my back about leaving.
I do want to go see Abby before I leave, but I’ve already been told nobody is allowed to see her today. My mother tells me Abby’s parents weren’t thrilled to hear that news, but the doctors say it’s imperative she gets her rest.
I climb into the wheelchair, even though I feel I’m more than capable of walking. It seems to be some kind of tradition with hospitals that you get pushed out in a wheelchair. Of course Nurse Jackie offered to take me, but I said my parents could handle the task.
On the way home we make a lunch detour. I could have asked them to treat me to a four-hundred-dollar meal and I think they wouldn’t have hesitated for a second, but instead I have them take me to where I’m really craving — Taco Bell. I splurge on a couple extra bean burritos, enjoying my first taste of something other than hospital food.
When we get home, I’m overjoyed to be here. I miss my couch, my flat screen TV, my WiFi connection, and the way the light comes in through our skylights. Life is good, although I have some mixed feelings from my latest memories in this house. Even though my seven-day journey in a world with everyone gone was just a comatose dream, it felt so real. Is it normal when you’re in a coma to have one long dream like the one I experienced? I make a mental note to research this too, later.
Without being allowed to drive, I’m still quite helpless. I make a list and my dad goes to the grocery to pick up supplies for me. Since I know they’re paying, I make sure to add a few more items to the list. My mother and I watch TV, waiting by the phone for any updates on Abby. Her and Abby have had a bit of a rocky relationship, but what mother and daughter-in-law relationship isn’t edgy when it comes to sharing an only child? They get along well enough, though.
My mother expresses more concern with Abby than I do, but that’s because she doesn’t know what I do. My mind races with what Abby told me. The man in the black car — where am I supposed to find him? How am I supposed to kill him? I don’t even have a gun. While my mom is distracted with some girly show, I do some research online. Turns out, there’s a gun store about a mile from my house. It’s in a sketchy area, which is why I’ve never seen it before. I read the reviews and see it got two out of five stars. Looks like a lot of people living nearby complain about the kind of clientele the store brings in. This review says, “They would let practically anyone go in there and buy a gun.” Perfect – just what I want! It says they are open until eight.
My dad gets home and mom prepares a delicious pasta dinner, which has always been my favorite dish she makes. After dinner, she insists they stay the night. If it weren’t for my new plan, I would love for them to stay. I don’t really feel like being alone now. Partly because Abby scared the shit out of me, and partly because I just don’t want to be alone. It’s rare that I’m alone for the night. Maybe once a year Abby’s friends plan a get together where they all stay at a hotel and party like college kids. Other than that, Abby comes home everyday at a quarter to six like clockwork.
I have to ask my parents to leave, though. It’s urgent that I get a gun as soon as possible in case the man in the black car comes after me tonight. I briefly consider just coming clean and telling them I want a gun to feel safe. I’m sure my dad would be all for it; we’ve already had the discussion before. I remember telling him I’m not a gun person and wouldn’t even feel comfortable having it in the house. That was before these past few days, though. Now someone is supposedly coming after me, not to mention my chances of getting to heaven have become non-existent since I’ve axed someone to death.
When I tell my mother I just want to be alone tonight, she’s disappointed to say the least. You would have thought I told her I was going off to war.
“Mom, it’s been a hard few days. I just want some rest and alone time.”
It takes a little persuading, but she finally caves in. They have a hotel near the hospital twenty minutes away, and she tells me to call her as soon as I get up.
“OK, mom. But just so you know, the coma has been affecting my sleep. So don’t start freaking out if it’s eleven o’clock before I call.”
“OK Andrew,” she tells me. She doesn’t convince me she’s not worried, but that’s how mothers are.
When they leave, I decide I better not waste any time. The store closes at eight and it’s seven now. The last thing I want is to keep a disgruntled gun store owner past closing time.
I have no idea what kind of trouble I could get in by driving now, but my guess is a whole hell of a lot. I’m usually a pretty safe driver minus a few tickets and, well, flipping Abby’s car over in my coma dream. I also don’t know what the protocol is for buying guns. Considering I’ve got some new history on my records, I decide if they have to run a background check I’ll make some excuse to get out of there and leave. If it’s just a matter of showing a driver’s license and writing my name down, I can risk that. I don’t have any other choice.