Page 74 of All I Have Left

GRAYSON

I s it Monday? Tuesday? Wednesday? I have no clue.

But I know the date. September twenty-fourth.

My three-month check-up is today. It hasn’t come soon enough.

Finally, I feel like I’m getting on the right track with the medications and the headaches.

I haven’t thrown up yet this week, so I guess that’s a good sign, right?

I still can’t hear out of my left ear and my vision isn’t great.

I can’t stand up without seeing stars and nearly every time I shower, I have to sit down.

I drop things, stumble, forget words, and I can’t be in a crowd.

I hate when someone hugs me, can’t button a shirt, and sometimes forget what day of the week it is.

Okay, that last one is daily. Evie reminds me.

Evie… she’s… everything . I piss off everyone on a daily basis, but she’s so incredibly fucking patient with me and I don’t deserve her. Anyone else would have kicked my bratty ass to the curb by now.

Even with all that, I fear this appointment for one reason. Clearance to be intimate. Intimate? Whatever the fuck that means. Traumatic brain injuries basically take intimacy and toss it out the goddamn window.

Don’t get me wrong, I want to have sex more than you will ever know, but then again, am I ready? I sleep next to Evie every night, can’t keep my hands off her, but am I ready to have sex with her?

Honestly, I don’t think so. Something happens after you experience trauma. Your brain has a hard time letting go of what it knows and moving on. I don’t know that it’s done on a conscious level either. I think it just happens, similar to muscle memory maybe.

Evie stays with Frankie today, something about a bachelorette lunch, or whatever.

I was only half paying attention to the conversation, and I’m able to block out a lot of things by simply pleading that I don’t remember.

Works great, and unfortunately, I don’t remember much of anything so I’m not lying.

That leaves Ethan taking me to my appointment in Birmingham, and picking up Josh from the airport before the wedding this Saturday. Kelly’s been in town for a few weeks now.

“I’m not going inside the airport when we go to pick Josh up,” I tell him as we pull into the parking lot of the University of Alabama Hospital, a place I never wanted to return to.

“Yes, you are.” He turns left into a parking spot. “I’m not leaving you in the car. It’s too hot out.”

I reach for my cell phone in the cup holder, surprised I remembered to bring it this time. “You can leave me in the car. I’m not a baby.”

He turns off the engine of his truck, smiling at me. “That’s debatable some days.”

I scowl at him and he raises his hands to me. “I’m sorry, I had to. You walked right into that one. Now, let’s go get you cleared for fucking.”

Clearly my family knows what my priority is lately.

In the waiting room, Ethan and I take a seat next to the windows. It’s warm, the heat radiating through the glass despite the air-conditioning working overtime. Being the end of September, you’d think the heat would be releasing its choke hold on the city, but sadly, no.

At least it’s not as hot as Iraq. I never want to experience that kind of heat again.

Beside me, Ethan picks up a magazine with a bride on the front. “I can’t believe I’m getting married in three days.”

“Getting married, I believe.” I draw in a heavy breath, anxiety rushing through me. Running my palms over my thighs, I try to force myself to relax. “You two raising a kid, that should be your concern.”

I can feel him staring at me. “I can’t wait to be a dad.”

“Uh-huh.”

The door to our right opens. “Oh my God, look at you!” Leigha gushes, rushing toward me in her navy scrubs. I stand and she forces me to hug her. “I changed my schedule around so I could be here for our boy.”

Our boy? I don’t know why they like me so much. I wasn’t nice to any of them. Smiling at her, I return the hug. “I’ll be nice if you give me good news,” I tell her as she’s leading me back and Ethan is insisting on going with me. I gesture with a nod. “I don’t feel safe with him around.”

Ethan follows regardless. “Don’t worry. I’ll look away when they ask you to turn your head and cough.”

Leigha rolls her eyes. “It’s not that kind of appointment.”

“It’s a good thing it’s not because he’d probably—” His words are cut off by my elbow in his stomach.

“I really missed you kids.” Leigha shakes her head, opening the door to an exam room. “How’s Evie? I thought she’d come with you.”

Ethan looks up from the magazine he brought in with him, taking a seat next to me in a chair pushed up against the wall lined with windows. “You’re not happy to see me? ”

“You’re cute.” She pulls out a blood pressure cuff, closing the drawer with her hip. “But Evie brought me coffee in the mornings. Coffee triumphs cuteness every time.”

“I brought you a muffin once.”

“That you ate the top off and then gave to me,” she adds, motioning me to pass her my hand.

Ethan stares at her, blinking slowly and then looks back at the magazine, flipping the page. “It’s the thought that counts.”

Groaning, I pull up my sleeve as she slips the cuff on.

Leigha frowns. “Grayson, it’s 162 over 96.”

Shit . I play dumb. “That’s apparently not good?”

Her eyes narrow. “No. It’s not at all.” She slides the cuff off my arm. “How long has it been like this?”

I push my sleeve down. “No idea.”

Swiping her finger across a screen, she makes a note. “We might need to start blood pressure medication.”

Again, I groan. “Not another medication.”

“Sorry, dude. It can’t be that high consistently. High blood pressure means swelling in your brain. That’s a bad thing.”

“I’m nervous. That’s probably why it’s so high,” I point out, trying like hell to give her a puppy dog face or anything that would resemble “please don’t write another prescription.”

Her eyes lift from the screen to mine. “Why are you nervous?”

“Because he—” Ethan hunches forward, coughing. “You need to stop hitting me.”

“Then stop saying stupid shit.”

“Ultimately it’s up to Dr. Nehls, but just know he might.” Leigha sets the iPad on the counter.

“They don’t want my blood pressure high, but I can’t do anything. It stresses me out. I’m alive but can barely do anything for myself.”

“Literally.” Ethan remarks and then jumps up before I can hit him again. “I’ll be in the waiting room. It’s too hostile in here.”

I take the box of tissues next to me and throw it as hard as I can at his back. It nails him between the shoulder blades right before the door closes. Dramatically, he falls to the ground.

Leigha smiles. “I really did miss you guys.”

“I can’t understand why,” I mumble.

Smiling, she reaches next to her for her iPad. “How’s Evie doing?”

“Good, I suppose. She’s hasn’t left me yet.”

Her eyes soften, her hand clasping over mine on my knee.

“Honey, that girl isn’t going anywhere. I’ve never seen two people quite like you guys.

Just remember, this is only a short time.

I know the road hasn’t been easy, but we’re a lot better off than we were when I first met you—no heartbeat and bleeding all over the table.

” My chest tightens at what it must have looked like to her, and Evie.

I can’t imagine what she went through trying to get me help.

“Yeah, we’ve had to work at this with your medications and the fluid in your head, but it’s going to get better.

It’s not permanent for you.” Those words shake me.

“Some people don’t get that opportunity. ”

Those words change me.

I do have a lot to be thankful for. I could be dead. I should be. But by some miracle, I’m not. And though some days I wonder why I’m not, it’s Evie that I’m more concerned about because I don’t want to leave her alone.

“You had your scans done yesterday, right?”

“Yeah.” My knee bounces nervously in the chair, my cheeks warming as Dr. Nehls comes in the room.

“Grayson,” he beams. “It’s good to see you.

” I shake his hand and he dives right into my scans, telling me he’s concerned about fluid buildup and that may be the cause of my headaches.

He decides he’s putting me on the diuretics he talked about to keep the fluid levels lower in my brain and a low-dose blood pressure medication.

“More medication. Awesome. Am I cleared then?” I ask, my knee bouncing again .

Dr. Nehls hands a five-dollar bill to Leigha and they crack up laughing.

I look between them, confused. “What?”

He nods to Leigha. “She bet me that’d be your first question to me. I said it’d be when can you drive.”

“When can I drive?”

“When you’re off most your medications and a year without a seizure.”

Shit.

“Clearly I know what’s on your mind,” she says, winking at me as she pockets the five bucks. “All the men under twenty-five we see, that’s their first question at this appointment.”

I don’t laugh.

Especially when Dr. Nehls adds, “Let’s give it a week on the blood pressure medication and see how that goes. If it evens out, then yes, you can resume… that.”

Motioning for me to stand, he performs a thorough neurological exam.

It’s a lot of does this hurt? Turn your head to the side, walk in a straight line, hearing tests (still no hearing in left ear), balance tests (fail that too), and basic functions that used to be simple and now require so much effort on my part I fear life will never be easy again.

Like being able to do things for myself.

Never take advantage of being able to bend over and tie your damn shoes on your own, if you can.

If you can’t, well, there’s always slips-ons. Looks like I’ll be wearing them with you.

They tell me to get my blood pressure checked daily, and schedule me out for another three months. Then they hand me two more prescriptions and then I’m free to go. “If your blood pressure stays down, you’re free to, you know….” Dr. Nehl’s words trail off.

Beside him, Leigha winks at me and I don’t know why, but my cheeks flush.

I stand, shake his hand and say the words I should have said a long fucking time ago. “Thank you for saving my life. ”

Though it’s not the outcome I was hoping for, I think about what Leigha said again.

Some people don’t get this opportunity.

Like Matt.

It’s the first time in months I’ve thought about him, and though he’d been on my mind every day since he died, after the accident I seemed selfishly absorbed in my own pity. I hadn’t realized that just because I couldn’t do things for myself, didn’t mean I shouldn’t be grateful.

It’s not going to happen overnight, but I know I need to work on it.

Dr. Nehls pulls me into a hug. “It was my pleasure, son.”

Leigha hugs me twice, gives me a box of chocolates to give Evie, and I’m on my way, and still pissed off. I can’t even tell you why, but, in all actuality, I suppose it has to do with having to waiting another week.

Inside his truck, Ethan stares at me, narrowing his eyes. “You cleared?”

I draw in a heavy breath and let it out slowly. No answer.

He laughs, starting the truck. “Poor fella.”

“Fuck you. Just go pick up Josh so we can get this over with. I’m hungry.”

It takes two hours to pick up Josh at the airport before we actually sit down to eat at the Village Tavern.

Evie’s called me three times but I don’t answer.

Instead, I send her a text telling her I have bad reception.

It’s a lie, but what am I going to tell her?

That it’s another week? She’s just as desperate as me.

I don’t know why, but she refuses to let me get her off, which only makes me even more horny thinking about it.

Thankfully, once we pick up Josh, my thoughts are at least distracted .

“How are you, man?” he asks me. Josh took a job in Arizona and couldn’t stay around during my extended stay at the hospital. I think I saw him once that I remember, but I can’t blame him.

“I don’t have a job,” I snap when they’re delivered beer, and I get water. “No license. Can’t drink. Can’t fuck… I’m not awesome.”

“He’s cranky. Doc told him to wait another week.”

“For what?”

“Nothing.”

Ethan smiles around his beer. “Fucking. It’s been a long three months if you know what I mean.”

“Change the fucking subject,” I growl, shifting uncomfortably.

“Really?” Josh’s eyes widen. “Really? You guys can’t… you know .”

“Nope. They can’t. Apparently it increases your brain pressure,” Ethan adds, dipping a chicken wing into hot sauce. “They’re both so cranky.”

“You’re one to talk,” I point out. “You and Frankie aren’t any better. You fight constantly about baby names.”

“Yeah, but we’re at least having sex. And pregnancy sex is amazing . And, excuse me if I don’t want my son named Rocco.”

Josh shakes his head, laughter shaking his chest. “I fucking missed you guys.”

I knock Ethan’s beer over, on purpose. “Sorry.”

He scowls at me, the front of his jeans soaked. “You did that on purpose.”

“Nope.”

Beside me, Josh nudges my elbow. “At least your hair’s growing back.”

I refill my water glass, ignoring Evie’s texts asking how my appointment went. “And you’re losing yours.”

“What? No way.” His eyes dart to Ethan as he runs his hand over his head. “Seriously, am I? ”

Ethan, who’s still dabbing the front of his jeans, shrugs. “I don’t know. Maybe a little?”

“Fuck. I’m only twenty-seven.” Josh runs his hands through his thick blond hair. “How is that possible?”

Ethan sets beer-soaked napkins on the table, still glaring at me. “I think it’s hereditary.”

The waitress delivers the check, Josh insists on paying for us and throws his arm over Ethan’s shoulder as we’re leaving. “Let’s get the kid married.”

I’m not looking forward to their wedding. Not because I don’t want them to be happy, but because that should be Evie and me. I go back to trying to be thankful. Baby steps, I guess. Maybe I’ll be thankful in a week.