By the time we make it to the waiting room, we’re both laughing, and I feel okay. I’m ready to start counting down the hours and minutes until I can see Gabe again.
Chapter 24
Liv
Four hours have passed since they took Gabe back for surgery. Since I felt the warmth of his hand, since I heard his deep voice call my name, since I kissed his cupid’s bow lips. And every second that passes now, feels like an eternity.
I keep looking at the door, waiting for Dr. Franklin, or somebody, anybody, to come in and tell us that the surgery is over and that it went well.
Four hours.
I check the time on my phone for the hundredth time.
Four hours and five minutes.
They probably spent the first hour prepping him, and it will most likely be another hour of post-op once the three hour surgery is over, so I’m trying not to let the worry get to me just yet.
I send Trisha a text to let her know we’re still waiting. I’ve been keeping her in the loop all day. Audrey too.
Audrey was so sweet to bring us lunch from the diner, and then she sat with me for an hour until she had to go back. She left me with a stack of magazines to help keep me occupied, but I’ve already thumbed through them all.
I glance across the waiting room at my mom and dad. My mom smiles reassuringly and my dad gives me a thumbs up. They arrived shortly after Gabe was taken back. They look tired. So do Jackie and Danny. I’m guessing that means I probably do too. How can four hours of doing absolutely nothing be so exhausting?
Maybe it’s the four hours of angst, anxiety, and fear we’ve been masking behind forced smiles and light conversation that has exhausted us all.
I sigh and close my eyes, and pray—something I’ve done a hundred times today.
Please let Gabe be okay. Let Dr. Franklin be standing behind that door, ready to tell us that Gabe is fine.
To my utter shock, Dr. Franklin pushes through the door.
I jump to my feet and so does everyone else, but none of us say anything.
“The surgery went great,” Dr. Franklin says with a satisfied smile.
My breath rushes out with a huge sigh of relief. Thank God.
I don’t know if I’m doing it on purpose or not, but I’ve managed to tune out everyone else in the room besides Dr. Franklin. I think someone is hugging me, but all I can do is focus on him and ask, “Really? He’s really okay?”
He crosses his arms over his chest and gives me a confident smile. “He’s great, Liv. He’s not awake yet, but his vitals look good, his brain activity is good. Everything looks good.”
“Thank you,” I say with more gratitude than I have ever felt before.
I turn to Jackie and Danny and my mom and my dad, taking turns hugging each of them. When we’ve finished rejoicing in Gabe’s successful surgery, I ask, “When can we see him? How long until he wakes up?”
“Not long. Maybe another hour.”
My heart flutters and I smile with nervous excitement. I can’t wait to see him. In fact, it’s taking everything in me not to burst through the door and run down the hall to find him. But I know that when he wakes up, we’ll have another obstacle to overcome.
“Do you think he’ll be the same? Will he remember?” I ask, knowing good and well that Dr. Franklin can’t possibly know. But I have to ask. I have to try to prepare myself somehow.
“There’s no reason to believe Gabe will have any negative side effects from the surgery. We were able to make a nice clean cut to remove the scar tissue. We won’t know for sure until he wakes up, but I don’t think you need to worry about that.”
“Okay. Will someone come and get us as soon as he’s awake?”
“Of course. Just sit tight for a little longer, okay?”
* * *
Six hours have passed since they took Gabe back. Almost two have passed since Dr. Franklin came to tell us he was out of surgery.
“Something’s wrong,” I say, pacing around the room.
“Now, come on, Liv, don’t start doing that,” my dad says, watching me.
“Gabe should be awake by now. Why haven’t they come back to get us yet?”
“Calm down, bébé,” Jackie says, touching my arm.
“No, I’m not going to calm down. I’m going to find out what’s going on.”
I go to the nurse’s station for the third time in the last hour, asking for information. Begging. “Please. Just tell me if something’s wrong.”
“I’m sure nothing is wrong,” the nurse says calmly, “but I’ll page Dr. Franklin again. Someone should be out to get you soon, if you’ll just return to the waiting area.”
I close my eyes and spin around, and reluctantly walk back to the waiting room. When I get there, I see Dr. Franklin standing by the door on the opposite side of the room where he stood before, flanked by my mom and dad, and Jackie and Danny. I close my eyes with a sigh of relief, but when I open them again, I notice that their faces aren’t right. Jackie’s hand is covering her mouth and she has tears in her eyes. Danny’s hand is on her shoulder and his face is pulled tight. He has the same little crease over his nose that Gabe gets whenever he’s upset.
I gaze at them.
The expressions on my parents’ faces are almost a mirror reflection of Jackie’s and Danny’s. They’re upset.
Dr. Franklin looks at me. “Liv,” he says, but I don’t move. I don’t think I can. “Liv,” he says again, but I just stare at him.
The next thing I know, someone is shaking my shoulders and calling my name. “Liv.”
My eyes flash up to my dad. “No”—I shake my head and pull my arms away from my dad—“No!”
Dr. Franklin puts his hand on my shoulder. “Liv—”
“You said he would be fine! You said everything went perfectly.” Tears fall down my cheeks.
“It did,” he says calmly, “the surgery went seamlessly and Gabe’s vitals are still good.”
“What?” I say, bewildered. “Then why—”
“He hasn’t woken up yet and we don’t know why.”
“He...he hasn’t woken up?”
Dr. Franklin shakes his head, and I see Jackie crying in my peripheral vision.
“But he’s okay?” I ask hopefully.
“It’s not that simple. Gabe should have woken up by now.”
“Well, maybe it’s just taking longer than normal, maybe he’s just—”
“He should have woken up by now,” Dr. Franklin repeats, and the gravity of his tone nearly takes me to my knees.
The tears well in my eyes again. “Then why hasn’t he?”
“We don’t know. We’ve gone over everything again and again. Nothing could have gone any better with the surgery. He sailed through it with flying colors.”
“I don’t understand.” I close my eyes and try to see past the frustration and fear clouding my head.
“We think that he might have had a stroke.”
My stomach flips and twists into a sickening knot.
“That could explain why he hasn’t woken up. We’ll need to run some more tests to be sure, but...”