Millie

The surgery was a success.

After an advanced high profile surgery you would think the doctors would want to keep him in hospital and monitor his progress.

No.

They released him to my care in three fucking days.

My. Care.

I took him to his house. He lived in a quiet residential area, in a single family home all by himself. Gavin had a key and told me what's what.

"I'd stop by whenever I can. I had to report to work now we're one head short." He apologized.

"I understand. Thanks."

I agreed to stay with Sam on my own. It's my own choice. It's either Gavin or me or a stay at home nurse.

It was shocking that Sam didn't have any friends except the cops in his office. The sheriff came once and informed me that all the medical expenses would be taken care of.

Gavin was a family man with two kids and one on its way. So I offered to stay. I felt like I owed Sam, for all his help. It would be heartless to let him in the care of a nurse when there's no medical need.

Sam, when he was awake, didn't remember any of us and he couldn't walk or talk properly.

Doctors said that's expected, his vitals were strong. What level of recovery he would make was purely upto his nervous system. They're hopeful though due to his age and physical strength. They estimated that he would be able to walk on his own in a few months. His right arm was screwed together with metal plates. That too he would be able to use, but not to its former glory.

His memory... Sam thought we were his nurses. He called Gavin "Nuzz."

Doctors weren't worried about that either. It's one of the least bothered side effects of the brain surgery in their list. He would regain his memory back as the medicines wore off.

The first night back from the hospital, he was a quiet patient, slept most of the next day and night. A nurse had explained to me how to help him up and out. Sam was a zombie of his former self. In just five days, he had lost noticeable body mass. So it wasn't difficult to help him to the bathroom or change his clothes. I managed.

The next day he tossed and thrashed in the bed. I had to hold his right arm forcefully to keep it safe.

Terry and Carl came to see Sam that evening.

"I can stay after school until he gets better." Terry offered.

"Over the weekends too." Carl said.

I hugged them both. "Thanks. I'd take your offer up for weekends. But on weekdays I'm good."

"You're not good. Look at you. You got circles around the eyes." Terry glared.

"You wouldn't be able to handle him alone. Also you'll be tired after school. I'll manage. Gavin said he would stop by often." I explained with a calmness I didn't feel.

Terry grumbled.

"I didn't know you were this close friends." Carl said.

Terry shook his head at him in warning, as if he knew it was a sour subject to bring up.

Carl looked alarmed and wandered off.

"Are you alright? For real?" Terry asked.

"For real, chèri. I'm still in shock. But I'm okay."

He hugged me, "call me. Don't slave away on your own."

"I will."

"What about the restaurant? You never closed it for more than two days. Now it's already a week. We can look for a day nurse, you know?" He whispered.

I chewed my lips fighting my tears. "I can't go, leaving him like this." I admitted, at last out loud.

Terry held me as I cried. Soon bigger arms encircled both of us.

"It's okay. Don't cry Millie. Everything will be fine." Carl said with strong conviction.

I needed it.

"Kiran offered to bake, if you made the dough beforehand. We can take off the other items from the menu and just keep regular pizzas. You can't afford to keep it closed any longer Millie. Customers will start to look for other places." Terry said.

I chose this town because it had only one pizza place that too with two star rating. My pizzas weren't great but they were delicious compared to the competitor's. Over the years, I expanded the menu to include pasta and soups and pastries. I had regulars, who would wait for me. But the customer base was a fickle thing. Terry's correct.

"Carl or I can stay with him in the evenings. You can go do the prep work. We can manage." Terry continued, encouraged by my silence.

"You already have a plan." I said.

"Yes, all you have to do is nod."

So I nodded.

After they left I stayed with Sam in his room. I had a mattress next to his bed for me. I started leafing through a book from his night stand.

It's some kind of historical non fiction. As dry as a droughted desert.

"Sss.. wuu..."

I looked up at Sam's voice.

His eyebrows cleared. "Mmmllleee?"

My heart jumped in joy. "Yes, Sam. How are you feeling?"

He lifted his left hand, "werz yuul hayl."

I tried to decipher his words. He talked like he had one too many beers. That too was the side effect of the surgery. His brain wasn't back to its original speed, it's drowsy. Doctors wouldn't say if it was permanent.

"What?" I asked.

His fingers touched my head.

"Oh. My hair?"

He nodded. "Lllll...big mane."

"I cut it short. Remember? I used to have a beard too, I shaved off when it started itching too much." I kept my voice light and cheery.

His fingers came down to touch my cheek, I shivered at the slight touch.

"Bbberd?" His eyes widened.

My eyes filled, yes, because of you.

I took his hand in mine. "Hungry? I made you some soup."

He smiled. It grew big as I watched. He looked different with unshaven, shrunken cheeks. His smile was lopsided. Was that too a side effect?

"What?"

He shook his head slowly. "Ssssugal...," he chuckled.

I remembered then. My first ever soup. How I had ended up adding sugar because I put too much tomato and it was too tangy and too thick. Sam had laughed until his eyes watered and kissed me senseless. He had added some flour to it and converted it to a spread for bread.

His memories of me were three years too old, they hadn't caught up to the present yet. "Don't worry, I learnt from my mistakes."

I got up, his fingers gripped mine. "Llll..llllo..."

I couldn't watch him struggle to form simple words. "Love?"

He nodded. "Ttto ttry anth yo mmak." He grinned.

I swallowed hard. He had said the same thing many times in those initial weeks, that's how he encouraged me not to give up on my restaurant.

"I know." I walked out before I broke down.

What's happening? Why do I have to relive those days again? As it is, they were unforgettable. He ruined my dating life with those days. And they weren't even dates according to him.

I wiped my eyes. He'd soon remember that too.

****

"Where's b...beard?" He asked a few days later.

I had settled into a routine of sharing my time between work and Sam. It's working out better than I hoped because Sam had a fully functional big kitchen and slept almost all the time and he was able to use his left hand and leg freely but slowly. He's responding well to physical therapy.

Doctors said it was a good sign.

It took me a while to understand Sam's question as I was lost in my reading. I had asked Terry to bring some easy books from the library.

I studied his face, it looked serious, with his usual grimness. I should shave his beard, it's growing like weed. He was asleep for hours, I didn't know when he woke up or how long he was watching me.

"Mine?"

He nodded.

"It was high maintenance. And kitchen sweat didn't help with the itching." I shrugged. So his memory had expanded, till when? I shaved my beard a few weeks after he came back from training.

"Ddddnt.... knew you could... gggrow vone."

His words were easier to understand as the days passed though his pauses were longer.

I nodded. How do we go from here? Now he remembers that we aren't in any casual talking terms. Should I broach the subject?

"Dddid... acc.. accident...happ...en?" He asked, inspecting his arm.

Oh, yeah. That.

"Yes, a bullet wound. You hit your head while you went down." I wasn't sure how much I should tell him. Do I tell him that he can't walk on his own yet? That I took him to the bathroom every time?

That most of the time he thought of me as his nurse?

"You...you..." he locked his gaze with mine, "dddont.... have...to sssstay..."

His eyes were begging me otherwise.

"I know. Don't think about it. I'll get you something to eat. Don't move. You need support to walk."

He nodded, shoulders visibly sagging.

As I toasted bread, I thought about the relieved look on his face. He was afraid I would leave him. He was relieved that I was staying. Did he think our broken friendship is fixed? Do I want to go back to that?

I no longer understood what I wanted. I kept avoiding thinking about it. Now that he's becoming better, I had to decide. I had some time, until he could take care of himself.

**** End of Chapter Seven ****