Read Online Once More With Feeling by Emilie Richards - Free Book Online Page B

simplest things, like how to chew and
swallow or blink their eyes. Some of them never get any better.
Others head right back to work after a little physical therapy, and
there are no residual effects."
    "And you think Gypsy might be one of
those?"
    "I wish I could say."
    The voices trailed off, but Elisabeth fought
to make sure that her thoughts didn't. Horror had filled her as the
men discussed her prognosis. She had imagined herself paralyzed for
life, her memory destroyed, the most natural and normal reactions
beyond her abilities. The doctor hadn't sounded particularly
hopeful.
    But the two men hadn't been talking about
her. They had been talking about someone named Gypsy.
    The name tugged at her. She knew her own
name. And she remembered Owen and Grant. But so much was unclear.
How had she gotten here? And how long had she been like this? She
knew there were people around, but no one seemed familiar. She knew
there had been a nurse named Perry, then another who hadn't
bothered to introduce herself. Now there was a doctor, too, but he
was discussing another case with yet another man whose voice was
unfamiliar.
    Who was Gypsy? And where was Owen? The last
question seemed the more important of the two. She was lying in a
hospital somewhere, and neither her husband nor son was here with
her.
    Her cheeks were wet again. This time she
understood why.
    "Well, I was just about to call Perry a
liar."
    A man smiled down at her, replacing the
bleak view of ceiling tile. The smile was soothing, the smile of a
father for his favorite recalcitrant toddler. The face was plain,
with nothing to particularly recommend it except kind gray
eyes.
    "I'm Dr. Roney."
    Elisabeth felt her hand being lifted and
held warmly in his.
    "Where's . . . Owen?" The voice that emerged
was huskier and lower in pitch than what she'd expected. At first
she was confused, than she realized her throat had probably been
damaged.
    He bent closer. "Don't worry. You probably
don't owe a thing. I'll bet you've got a Cadillac of an insurance
policy. You're in great hands here, and the only thing you have to
do is recover."
    She tried again. "Where--"
    "You're in a private room. You were in an
accident about three weeks ago."
    "Three. . ."
    "You've been in and out of a coma. It's the
body's way of gearing down all unnecessary systems for a while to
speed recovery. Let's just say you've been hibernating."
    "Let's . . . not."
    He laughed. "You've retained a sense of
humor. That's a very good sign."
    Elisabeth wanted to close her eyes and
forget this man and conversation, but she was afraid if she did,
she would be lost in the clouds again. "I want. . . I want to
see--"
    "No visitors yet." He shook his graying
head. "Not for a while. Look, I'll be honest. You've just come
through a really tough time. My guess is that you're going to make
a great recovery. But we might very well delay it if we move too
fast. This conversation is all the stimulation you need today."
    "When?"
    "Soon, I promise. But let me decide. That's
what I'm paid to do."
    She didn't have the strength to argue with
him, but she'd never heard of medical treatment that excluded
family so completely. Didn't love and encouragement speed the
healing process?
    He squeezed her hand. "Do you have any more
questions? Is there anything I can tell you before we let you rest
again?"
    "Owen. . ."
    "Now, I told you not to worry about that.
I'm sure you have all the insurance coverage you need."
    "Go . . . away."
    He laughed, squeezed her hand again, then
dropped it. His face disappeared from view and she was left staring
at tile again.
    She wondered where Owen was at this moment.
Was he sitting outside the hospital room with Grant, waiting for
word on her condition while Jimbo Roney made bad jokes about his
name? He had been with her the night that Grant was born, and he
had refused--absolutely refused in a hospital that didn't want
fathers in the delivery room--to leave. He had held her hand,
skirted angry nurses, and