Awakening

Nathan lay motionless on the bed. He'd already memorized the patterns in the popcorn ceiling. That's what he did the first week. To the left was the outline of a hippo, or maybe a dog, or sometimes a giraffe. To the right was the clear image of a 1963 Corvette Soft-top. Red with chrome rims. Straight above him — well, that was just popcorn ceiling. He was still working on it.

The shadows gave the shapes their shapes depending on the time of day and the sun. He'd asked Tiff to move the lamp to the table on the other side of the bed, but she refused. Her grandmother's Tiffany lamp was there, and it didn't work since the dog chewed through the cord, and he could not fix it before the accident. What difference does it make, she said. The working lamp lights the room just fine. He didn't have the breath or the patience to explain the play of the shadows on the ceiling. She wouldn't understand.

The ventilator clicked and hissed, forcing air into his lungs. If he could, he would reach over and pull the cord. Suffocation was unlikely to be painful or even uncomfortable for him, and he was willing to give it a try just to find out. He asked Tiff to do it for him, but she told him he was just being dramatic. He wasn't. He told her so. She dismissed him with that clicking sound she made with her tongue on the roof of her mouth. He knew she could not be responsible for that and still live with herself. But neither could she live with having to care for him day after day. She never said it, but he heard her on the phone in the other room, when she thought he was sleeping, talking about her quadriplegic husband and everything she did to keep him alive. She wore it as a badge of honor. The devoted wife, as far as anyone was concerned. But in the privacy of their home, she waited for him to die and release her from her bondage to his needs. He knew this from the way she looked at him, and the way she refused to be with him.

He could hear her show on the TV in the living room. That was where she spent most of her time. Since the settlement, she didn't have to work, so she didn't. She could bring the TV into the room, and at least then she would be near him, but the chair was not comfortable and the couch wouldn't fit. She could move the bed into the living room, but that wouldn't work either. Instead, she checked on him every couple of hours or so, attempting to hide her disappointment he was still existing. He adapted by sleeping, which he did as much as possible.

He closed his eyes.

****

"Hey sleepy-head, wake up."

He opened his eyes, blinking at the bright sunlight reflecting from ocean and white sand. Waves crashed in frothy whiteness and a seagull announced itself as it swooped overhead. He shaded his eyes. Tiffany stood in front of his beach chair wearing that skimpy red bikini he liked so much. Her blond hair fluttered in the breeze as she turned, giving him a great view of the thong between her sandy butt-cheeks.

"Are you going to sleep away your entire vacation, or are you going swimming with me?"

Nathan grinned. Jumping from the chair, he scooped her in his arms, and dashed into the surf while she squealed.

"Don't you dare!"

He dared, dumping her into an oncoming wave. She bounced to her feet, water dripping from her hair, and he wrapped his arms around her, tasting her salty lips.

"You shithead. I was trying to keep my hair dry."

"Too bad," he said, grinning. "You'll need a shower anyway."

"You gonna help with that?" She bit her tongue, pressing her hips against him.

He took her face in his hands, kissing her. Looking into her pale eyes, he frowned.

"What's the matter?" she said.

"I had that dream again."

"The paralyzed one?"

"Yeah."

"Was evil Tiffany still being mean to you?"

"Yes, you were."

"That's not me," she said, slapping his bare chest and pouting. "It's just a dream, Nate. I would never treat you like that."

"I know, but I keep having it."

"That's because you need something else to think about." She batted her eyes, and he pulled her in for another kiss.

After the shower, they made love in their beach-front suite. Nate lay back, cuddling her against his chest and gazing at the ceiling. The sounds of the ocean and seabirds came through the open sliding door.

"Do you want some wine?" Tiff said.

He grunted. She popped out of the bed, naked, retrieving the bottle from the ice bucket, and came back, topping off their glasses.

"Here's to our second honeymoon," Nathan said, presenting his glass. She clinked it and they drank.

"Now how about we do the honey moon thing," Tiff said, climbing on top of him.

"Again?"

"Yes, again."

They did the honey moon thing and fell asleep tangled in each other's arms.

****

"Nathan, wake up."

He opened his eyes, focusing on the popcorn ceiling. The sun was streaming through the window to the left, changing the way the light hit the ceiling. Pokemon, minus its tail. Her face intruded, gazing down at him with curiosity. She wore no makeup, and her hair was pulled into a ratty ponytail at the back of her head. She attempted a smile.

The ventilator hissed, inflating his chest, then released and the air rushed back out.

"What," he said, his voice raspy.

"You were smiling in your sleep." She waited for the next breath.

"Dreaming."

"That dream again?" She rolled her eyes. "No wonder you sleep all the time. This isn't good for you, Nate." She stepped back, and he refocused his eyes on the ceiling. No, not a pokemon.

The next breath came and he let it go in silence.

"You can't just withdraw like this," she said. She might have laid her hand on his, but he didn't look to see. "You have to talk to me."

The breath came and went.

"Fine." She turned to leave. "You can play these games alone."

Breath.

"Wait."

"What." She turned back.

Breath.

"Read to me?"

She sighed, folding her arms.

"I hate reading, and I don't think you even listen." His eyes shifted back to the ceiling, and Tiffany shook her head. "Are you going to stay awake this time?"

He looked at her and blinked twice.

"Okay, I'll read to you. But just one chapter."

She pulled a chair close to the bed, picking up the book from the nightstand. She slouched in the chair, sighing and opening the book.

"Looks like we stopped on Chapter 7." She cleared her throat. "The sun streamed through the window as she pulled aside the curtain and gazed out over the beach and the expanse of the ocean beyond..."

Nate closed his eyes.

****

"Wake up, babe." Tiffany leaned over and kissed him. His hand went to her face, cupping her cheek. She straighten, and he opened his eyes. She wore a terry-cloth robe, a towel wrapped around her hair. "Good morning."

"Morning, beautiful." He sat up in bed, glancing out the sliding door at the sun and surf. "What time is it?"

"Time to hit the beach." She dropped the robe on the floor, reached for her bikini, but caught him staring at her.

"What is it?" she said.

"Oh, nothing. Well, I had the dream again."

"Oh baby," she sat on the corner of the bed, taking his hand. "What is up with this crazy dream?"

"I don't know. It scares me. It feels so... real."

"No," she said, laying her hand on his cheek. "It's not real. This is real. That's just a bad dream. It'll pass."

"I just..."

She kissed him, pushing him back onto the bed and straddling him.

"I know just what you need."

They ate breakfast on the beach later that morning. Eggs and sausages with French toast and real maple syrup, washed down with mango mimosas. After breakfast, they sat for a time, enjoying each other's company and sipping their mimosas. Tiffany went for a swim while Nathan relaxed with his drink and watched her splashing in the water. The warmth of the morning sun, the salty sea breeze, the rhythmic crash of the waves, and the gentle buzz of alcohol lulled him into drowsiness. The champagne glass slipped from his hand, falling onto the white sand.

****

"Nathan? Wake up."

He opened his eyes. The sun was no longer in the window, and the ceiling reverted to its noisy pattern. He looked at Tiffany. She stood next to the bed, holding the open book, her lips drawn in a tight line.

"Why do I even bother? You won't stay awake long enough for me to get through two pages. Now I'll have to start over." He looked back up at the ceiling, and she closed the book with a huff. "Well, never mind then. If you won't pay attention, you can just be alone."

Breath.

Silence.

"Have it your way." She dropped the book on the end table and started for the door.

"Bitch."

She stomped back to the bedside, thrusting her face close to his.

"Fuck you, Nathan, you have no right to say that to me!" She straightened, glaring down at him, her hands balled at her sides.

"I hate..."

"No! You can't hate me. I'm the only one who gives a shit about you." She pointed at the door. "Is your mother here? No. She couldn't handle it, and she bailed after two days. You own mother, and she wouldn't even stay to help me." She blinked her eyes, tears flicking from the tips of her lashes. "I'm all you got, Nathan. I keep your machines running, tend to your bed sores, and I get to clean up your shit and your piss..." She clasped her hand over her mouth, her body trembling.

He closed his eyes. She stormed out, and he listened to her sobs from the other room until he fell asleep.

****

Her lips pressed against his. He woke, slipping his arms around her sun-warmed body as she slid into his lap.

"You were sleeping again." She gazed into his eyes. "Did you have the dream?"

"Yeah," he said. "But I've decided not to dream that anymore."

"You decided," she said, giggling. "Is it really that easy? You just decide and it goes away."

"I think so. At least I'm going to try."

"Good." She kissed him and hugged him, her lips next to his ear. "I'm keeping you here forever, Nathan."

"I'm never leaving."

They spent the day relaxing on the beach and soaking up the sun. Later that night, they retired to their suite for dinner and drinks. They made love afterwards, then lay in bed listening to the sound of the surf outside. Tiffany sprawled on top of him, her head over his heart.

"Tiff?"

"What?"

"I love you."

"Love you."

He closed his eyes.

****

"Nathan. Wake up. We have to talk."

He opened his eyes. She was right there, hovering over him, her eyes red. She touched his cheek.

"I can't do this anymore." She closed her eyes, the words stuck in her throat. She hesitated, catching her breath before she could look at him again. "I'm sick all the time. It's the stress. I just can't..."

Breath.

Silence.

"I'm leaving you." Her hand went to her face, and a tear fell on his forehead. She mouthed the words, "I'm sorry."

Breath.

Silence.

"I'll hire a nurse. You'll be cared for. I don't think it will... matter to you." She stepped back, wiping her eyes.

Breath.

"No, don't."

"I have to do this, Nate. I'll lose my sanity."

Breath.

"I'm sorry."

"I'm sorry too." She kissed him and left.

He cried, then fell asleep.

****

He listened to the ocean, his eyes closed. A tear rolled down his temple. Her body covered his, warm breath and soft hair on his chest. He stroked her cheek.

"Are you awake?" he said.

She raised her head, looking at him, her eyes glistening in the dark.

"I know I said I would never leave."

"Nathan." Her breath quickened. Her body tensed. He stroked her hair.

"I'm sorry."

"Nathan, please don't."

"This isn't real."

"It can be real," she said, her voice edged with desperation. "I can be real."

"I..."

"You never have to go back there. Stay, Nathan. You can be whole. Complete."

"Not here. Not with you. There's only one person who can complete me," he said. "She completes me."

She sighed, her eyes blinking.

"I understand. Please... stay for a little longer? Until I fall asleep?"

"I will."

She lay her head on his chest. He gazed up at the flat ceiling, listening to the waves breaking on the beach. Her breathing slowed and deepened. Her body covered him like a warm blanket. The sounds fell away to the background.

Breath.

Silence.

Drifting.

****

The morning sun beamed through the window. The pattern of light and shadow on the ceiling above him finally revealed it. It was nothing. It was always nothing. Tiffany sat next to the bed, clutching his hand, bloodshot eyes framed by dark circles.

Breath.

"Tiff."

Breath.

"I love you."

Breath.

"Don't go."

Breath.

"Please."

She stood and laid her warm hand on his cheek. Her lower lip trembled, and she nodded.

"Okay."