He blinked slowly. “I’m okay right this minute. How long have I been on this floor?” he asked, glancing around the room.
“Several weeks,” she said slowly, pulling a chair close. “Mind if I sit with you?”
He made a motion with his hand. “Please. I don’t… I’m not sure how long this is going to last. I’m almost afraid to ask where I am.”
Yes, if she said the wrong thing it might slam him into a psychotic episode. “You are in a place that is caring for you. I am caring for you, although it’s my day off today. I live upstairs but today I’m down here decorating the recreation room for Christmas.”
“Am I the only one here?”
“No, there are several on this floor although you are the only one in this hallway. We’ve found that some of your…manifestations, are difficult for the other patients.”
“Patients?” he asked.
Hm. Maybe she should have said residents. “Yes.”
“I’m sorry,” he said, his grey eyes incredibly sad. “I don’t realize it when it happens.”
Daring to reach forward she rested a hand on his curled fist. “We all know that, Haven. And we don’t blame you for anything. You’ve been through something terrible and your brain is dealing with it the only way it knows how.”
“I’m not even sure this is real,” he said, his hand turning to hold hers. His eyes welled with tears and he narrowed his eyes to try to force them away. “It’s all jumbled up in my mind.”
“I know,” she said softly, wanting to pull him into her arms but forcing herself to maintain distance. “I want to tell you I am your friend and I promise you, this moment is real.”
He turned her hand in his and ran his finger over the faint lines on her palm, then he looked around the room, focusing on details. “I’ve been here weeks, you said?”
She nodded. “You were moved up here from the medical floor a few weeks ago, when they took you off the feeding tube. Can I have Paul bring you a Coke? They delivered some to the kitchen today.”
He focused on her face. “I remember talking to you about that.”
“Yes, just last night.”
“I don’t think I want one right now. Maybe later.”
He continued looking at the items around him, as if reacquainting himself with the space. “I feel like I’ve just woken from a coma,” he said softly.
Her heart broke for him because she would probably feel the same way. In the weeks she’d been here she’d only actually talked to him a couple of times, and certainly not this length of time. “Well, in a way it has been. Your mind is very strong and I think it’s done a very good job of protecting itself. Now that you’re in a safe place, I think it’s allowing some real life to get through.”
He didn’t say anything to that, just continued to hold her hand. Eventually, he looked her in the eye. “I think I’m going to sleep for a while now. Thank you for sitting with me.”
He let go of her hand reluctantly and lay back on his bed, pulling his knees to his chest.
“Would you like a cover?” she asked, unable to help herself.
“No, thank you,” he said, closing his eyes.
Raine left the room and headed back down the hallway to the rec room to continue her work. Michelle, the night nurse, waved as she hustled past. “Room’s looking great,” she called.
Stopping at the nurse station Raine typed out a short message to Dr. Wilkes. Elizabeth, she corrected herself internally. The doctor would be interested in the progress Haven had made, because he’d been so unapproachable for so long. Once done she headed back down to the rec room.
Raine worked into the night, hanging lights and tinsel and garland until her shoulders ached. Spotify played on her cell phone until the battery went dead and she had to call it a night. Back aching and fingers sore she headed up to her apartment and fell into bed, her heart happier than it had been for a long time.
The next morning Raine got up and showered, excited to tackle the room and get it done. And once she was done she sat in one of the chairs and just basked in the beauty. The harsh, white-walled, bland recreation room had been transformed into a holiday wonderland. The white on the walls had come in handy for that, at least.
With help from package after package of 3M removable hooks, she covered the hideous walls with lights and cutout snow flakes, a nod to Mr. Dart’s Ukranian home. A golden pig cutout trotted on one wall, for their Czech resident, and there were several advent calendars on the tables. Several of the countries celebrated advent but she couldn’t do anything about that because she’d started so late. They would just have to make do and be flexible.
There were pickle ornaments on the tree and even on the second miniature tree at the doorway, although it was only in the wee hours of the morning that she realized that Germans had no idea about the Christmas Pickle. It was more of an American tradition than German. She would have to talk to Noah about that when she saw him next, but she left them alone because it was funny.
Paul gave an appreciative whistle as he walked into the room. “Damn, girl! I don’t even recognize the place! And it smells like cookies!”
Raine beamed. That was exactly what she’d been going for. “Thank you! I think I want to move in here, actually.”
Paul turned slowly, taking in every decorated corner. “Good Lord. You weren’t joking, were you?”
Raine didn’t think that needed a response, so she stayed quiet.
Throughout the day staff and residents from other floors stopped in to marvel at the spectacle. Raine had extra decorations so that anyone that wanted some could take them. Several people left with bags swinging from their hands.
In
