“Wake up, Jake,” she whispered. “There are things I need to tell you. Things I should have told you a long time ago.”
She brushed his hair back off his forehead. “Please, you’ve got to get better. So many people love you. And, Jake, your daughter, Joanie, needs you.” Ali bit her trembling lip, trying to stay strong, but the fear was getting to her. What if Jake never came out of the coma?
No! She had to stay positive. “You will wake up, and I’ll tell you all about Joanie.” She leaned down and pressed her lips against his. A tremor raced through her. “Good night, Jake. See you tomorrow.”
Jake felt the warmth of her lips on his, then she pulled away. Don’t go, he tried to call to her. Please don’t go. He willed the words to come, but they never did. The room grew silent, with just the memory of her sweet voice lingering in the air. When she’d spoken, he’d been mesmerized. He’d tried to listen, but her words got all scrambled in his head. He’d been able to pick out a few, but nothing that told him who she was. And who was Joanie?
A few days later, Ali sat and watched as Cliff Hawkins limped back and forth across his son’s hospital room.
“I hate this—I should be able to do something. Anything. All this waiting is making me crazy. Damn those doctors. I’m paying them enough they should have figured out a way to bring my son out of this coma.” Cliff’s gaze went to the bed, and a sob racked his body. “Oh, hell. I can’t stand it.”
Ali went to him. “Mr. Hawkins, please. The doctors are doing everything they can. Jake is strong. He’s in top physical condition from his years in the military, and we all know how determined your son is. He’s going to come out of this.”
For the first time in days, Cliff Hawkins looked hopeful. He patted her hand. “Thank you, Ali. You’ve been such a help.” He blinked back tears. “It’s just that I feel responsible—”
“But you’re not responsible. The sheriff said it was an accident. Jake lost control of his car in the bad weather.”
“But if we hadn’t argued that day… All I wanted was to help my son. He thinks I’m a stubborn old man.”
Ali assisted Cliff to the edge of the bed. “Sometimes we have to let people find their own way,” she began. “My grandmother always says, ‘To love is to let go, and let God.’”
His hand was trembling, and she wondered how much sleep the man had had in the past week. “I can’t seem to do that. Where I came from, Ali, life was tough. My own dad took off when I was only ten. I had to help support my mom.”
Ali saw him cringe, and he raised his head to make eye contact with her.
“I bet you thought I always had a good life. Well, I didn’t.” He sighed. “My childhood was so rotten that I want to forget it completely, to bury the past. I swore that no child of mine would ever know what I had to go through.”
Ali remained silent. Cliff Hawkins obviously needed to vent his feelings, and she seemed to be the only one around.
“I made it out of the projects, and made a name for myself. But it cost me.”
He glanced over at her, and Ali saw his eyes well up.
“I built a thriving business, but in the process I lost my wife to the bottle before I realized she needed help. By the time I got her into a rehab clinic, she didn’t care to live. She died a year later.
“Now I stand to lose my only son…a son who can barely tolerate me.” He swallowed and reached out to touch Jake’s battered face.
“He doesn’t exactly look like the big strapping kid who played quarterback in high school, or the soldier with a chest full of medals, does he?”
Ali felt her own tears form at the fear and sadness she saw in Cliff Hawkins’s eyes.
“Ah, Jake, you need to wake up,” he choked. “There are so many things I need to tell you. For one, how proud I always was of you. Funny, I told the whole world, but I guess I never got around to telling you. I am proud of you, son. So damn proud,” he whispered hoarsely.
He lifted Jake’s hand, held it between his palms, then rubbed it gently. “I never told you that the day you were born was the best day of my life. I know I did a lousy job as a father. I’d give anything to change the past and make things different between you and me. Damn it, Jake, I love you. You’ve got to give me another chance. Please come back, son. Please.”
Cliff Hawkins pinched the tears from his eyes and laid Jake’s hand down on the bed. “I’m not giving up, Jake. I just got you back into my life…and I’m not about to let you go.”
He stood and looked at Ali. “I’m sure Jake would rather wake up to see your big green eyes than these tired old blinkers.”
“I can’t stay much longer, Mr. Hawkins. I have to get back to work.”
“I understand, Ali. You’ve already spent a lot of time here. I know it’s hard on you, but I think your daily visits are helping Jake.”
“That’s what I need to tell you, Mr. Hawkins—”
“Please, I told you to call me Cliff.”
She nodded. “Cliff. I can’t come tomorrow.”
Ali could see his panic.
“But why?” he asked. “You know that Jake needs you.”
“Yes, but I have to take my daughter to her doctor’s appointment.”
He looked confused. “I didn’t know you were married.”
It was a question Ali had been asked a lot. This was the one time she wished she could lie. “I’m not.”
Jake heard her voice again. It seemed to float around him, all sweet and cheerful. And this time, he could understand more of what she was saying. It was as if her voice were coming through a tunnel. It was something about a beautiful day and that he should see the morning sun shining off the snow.
She came closer and touched him. First she picked up his hand, then she brushed the hair off his forehead. All the time talking about how she was going to stay until he woke up.
Who was she? Half-formed images flowed through his mind. A woman. The picture blurred again, retreating into darkness. A woman.
Her soft voice called his name again. “Jake, please…”
He felt the tender caress of her hand on his skin.
He knew it had been a long time since anyone had given him comfort in his life. Not since…Ali.
Two days later, when Ali walked into the private hospital room, Margo was busy at Jake’s bed, changing the IV.
“Hi, Margo. How’s he doing?”
Her friend smiled as she smoothed out the bedsheets. “Well, his vital signs are steadily improving. And according to his chart, Jake had a restless night.”
“And that’s a good sign?” Ali asked, confused.
“It’s a very good sign. Hopefully it means he’s fighting the coma.”
After Margo left, Ali walked across the room to the bed. “Jake. Why don’t you wake up?” She fought to make her voice upbeat and steeled herself against another day of false hope. What if he never woke up? she thought again. No. She wouldn’t let herself believe that could happen. How could she live with the fact that she’d kept her daughter from ever knowing her father?
“It’s such a pretty day today,” she said. “The sun is out, the temperature is in the thirties. Not too bad for southern Minnesota.”
She pulled off her coat and placed it on the chair. Each day she had been careful to look her best. She’d never