“Has he asked you to marry him, Stevie?”
“No, thank God. I just worry that he will. He never used to talk about marriage at all. Now the subject does come up. A lot lately. He says he thinks we should get married. But he's never proposed. I'd be upset if he did. I guess he's thinking that it must be some kind of midlife crisis, which is depressing too. I hate to think we're that old.”
“You're not. It's nice that he's feeling responsible about you. I'd be more upset if he weren't. Are you going to his parents' for Christmas?” Carole was curious, and Stevie groaned from her cot across the room.
“I guess. His mother is a real pain in the ass. She thinks I'm too tall and too old for him. Nice. But his father is cute. And I like both of his sisters. They're smart, like him.” It all sounded healthy to Carole, and reminded her to call Chloe the next day. She wanted to invite her to come to California a few days before the others, so they'd have some time alone. She thought it would be good for both of them.
She lay in the dark for a few minutes, thinking about what Matthieu had said about her, and how difficult and needy Chloe had been even as a little girl. It absolved Carole a little, and relieved her, but she still wanted to try to make up to her for what Chloe felt she had missed. Neither of them had anything to lose, and both had everything to win.
She was nearly asleep when Stevie spoke to her again. It was another of those easier-in-the-dark questions. They couldn't see each other from their beds. It was like confession. The question took Carole by surprise.
“Are you still in love with Matthieu?” Stevie had been wondering for days, and was worried about it. Carole took a long time to answer, pondering it, and then said what was closest to the truth.
“I don't know.”
“Do you think you'd ever move back here?” Stevie was worried about her job, just as Carole worried about losing her. This time Carole answered quickly, with no hesitation in her voice.
“No. Not for a man anyway. I like my life in L.A.” Even with Anthony and Chloe gone, she liked the house, the city, her friends, and the weather. Gray Paris winters no longer appealed to her, no matter how beautiful the city was. She had been there, done that, years before. She had no desire to move. “I'm not going anywhere,” she reassured her assistant.
They both fell asleep shortly after, comfortable that nothing in their lives was going to change. The future was sure, as much as it ever was.
When Carole awoke the next morning, Stevie was already awake, up, dressed, and her bed had been made. A nurse was walking into the room with Carole's breakfast tray, and the neurologist was close on her heels.
The doctor came to stand beside Carole's bed, with a warm smile. She was their star patient and had made a recovery thus far that exceeded all their expectations. She said as much to Carole, while Stevie stood nearby, like a proud mother hen. They had much to be thankful for.
“There are still so many things I can't remember. My phone number, my address. What my house looks like from the outside. I know what my bedroom looks like, and the garden, and even my office. I can't visualize the rest of my house. I can't remember my house-keeper's face or name. I don't remember my children growing up… I can hear my father's voice, but I can't see him in my mind … I don't know who my friends are. I hardly remember anything about either of my marriages, particularly my last one.” It was an endless litany as her doctor smiled.
“The last item you mentioned could be a blessing. I remember far too much about both my marriages! Ah, to forget them both!” the doctor said as all three women laughed, and then grew serious again. “You must be patient, Carole. It will take months, maybe a year, even two. Some things may never come back, small things probably. You can do things to push yourself, photographs, letters, rely on friends to tell you things. Your children will fill you in. Your brain had a tremendous shock, now it's doing its job again. Give it some time to recover. It's like when a film breaks at a movie. It takes a little time to thread it back on the reel again and get it running smoothly. It jumps and skips for a while, the picture is blurry, the sound is too fast or too slow, and then the film rolls on again. You must be patient during this process. Stamping your feet or throwing popcorn at the screen won't make it go any faster. And the more impatient you get, the harder it will be for you.”
“Will I remember how to drive?” Her motor skills and coordination had already improved but weren't perfect yet. The physical therapists had been pushing her hard, with good results. Her balance was better, but every now and then the room reeled around her, or her legs felt weak.
“Perhaps not at first. It will probably come back. In each case, you have to remember what you once knew without a second thought. The dishwasher, the washing machine, your car, your computer. Everything you've ever learned has to be entered into the computer in your head again, or brought back if it was saved. I think more of it has been saved than you know. A year from now you may have no evidence of the accident at all. Or even in six months. Or there may always be some small thing that is harder for you now. You'll need a physical therapist in California, one who is familiar with brain trauma. I was going to suggest a speech therapist, but I don't think that's an issue for you.” After her initial difficulty at finding words, she seemed to have full access to her vocabulary, and had for a while. “I have the name of an excellent neurologist in Los Angeles, who can follow your case. We'll send all your records to him after you arrive in L.A. I suggest that you see him every two weeks at first, but that's for him to decide. Later, you can see him once every few months, if you're not having any problems. I want you to be aware of head aches and report them to him immediately. Don't wait for your next visit. And any problems with balance. That could be a problem for a while. We're going to do some scans today, but I'm extremely pleased with your progress. You are our miracle child here at La Pitié.”
Others who had survived the bombing hadn't done as well, and many had died, even after the first days, most of them from burns. Carole's arms had healed well, the burn on her face had been superficial, and she was getting used to the scar. The doctor had been impressed at her lack of vanity. She was a sensible woman. Carole had been far more worried about her brain than her face. She hadn't decided yet whether to have surgery, to get rid of the scar, or live with it for a while and decide how she felt about it later. She was worried about the possible effect of anesthesia on her brain and so were they. The scar could wait.
“I still don't want you to fly for a few more weeks. I know you want to be home for the holidays, but if you could wait till the twentieth or twenty-first, I'd be pleased. Providing you have no complications between now and then. That could change plans considerably. But as things stand now, I think you'll be home for Christmas.” There were tears in Carole's eyes as she listened, and Stevie's too. For a while there, it looked as if she'd never go home again, or wouldn't recognize it if she did. It was going to be a great Christmas this year, with both her children under the tree, and Jason too. He hadn't spent holidays with them in years. The kids were thrilled he was coming, and so was she.
“When can I go back to the hotel?” Carole asked. She was safe and comfortable in her hospital cocoon, and a little frightened about leaving, but she liked the idea of spending her final days in Paris at the Ritz. They had already agreed to send a nurse with her.
“Let's see how your scans look today. Perhaps you can go back to the hotel tomorrow or the next day.” Carole beamed, although she was going to miss the feeling of safety she derived from being there, with medical care close at hand. The CRS guards were going to the Ritz with her, that had already been arranged, and hotel security would be tightened once she returned. They were planning for it. “How would you feel about my sending a physician on the flight to California with you? I think it might be a good idea, and reassuring for you. The pressure might cause some changes that could alarm you, although I don't think you'll have a problem by then. It's just a precaution, and another element of comfort for you.” Carole and Stevie both liked that idea. Stevie hadn't mentioned it, but she was worried about the trip, and the pressure, as the doctor said.