“No… uff… bee… bee.”
“I know, honey. Do you want to talk about how you feel about that?”
Gini shook her head again, pulling farther away from Maggie.
“That’s okay. You can take your time.”
Gini started flexing her hands. Debbie reached over and took hold of them. She looked at Maggie.
“We can talk about them another day,” Maggie said. “I just wanted to come and introduce myself. Remember, my name is Maggie.”
“Oh… yes…” Gini said in her cute rising voice. Her hands had stopped.
“Good. I’ll see you again soon.”
“She’s a bit suspicious of new people,” Debbie said, walking Maggie to the door. “She’ll warm up to you when she knows you better.”
“She’s a sweet lady.”
Maggie had only been gone about fifteen minutes when Tracy paged to say Ric was coming to the room.
Debbie opened the door, and he walked toward the table where Gini was sitting.
“Reek.”
Ric’s eyes popped wide open and he looked at Debbie with surprise. Had Gini just said his name?
“Yes, sweets, it’s me, Ric.” He went over and squatted next to the chair.
“Reek… bee… bee… uff… no… uff… bee… bee.”
He took her into his arms and went to the couch. His emotions were bursting out of him. “Gini, I love you. Know that I love you now and always will.” His voice was deep and resonant.
Gini continually repeated “Reek” over and over.
Debbie immediately paged both Robert and Maggie.
“Reek… no… uff… bee… bee.”
Ric could no longer hold back the tears. “I know, sweets. They were so precious. Jennifer had your dimples.” His voice skipped with his emotions. “Did I tell you I held our baby? Our little girl. I wish you could have held them.” His tears fell on her cheeks, and the sight of that—the picture of the bond they had as parents who’d lost a child—made him want to cry forever.
The door swished, and both Dr. Young and Dr. Kramer walked in.
Gini had her fingers spread straight and wide, and she was gently touching his hair. He put his head next to hers and cried. Debbie could see Gini was trying to comfort him. She was calmly stroking his head as he cried, almost out of control. None of the three of them interfered. They were just going to let it play out.
Ric rose and kissed Gini on the forehead and then the lips. “Gini, you know who I am.”
“Oh… yes… Reek… uff… bee… bee.”
“Oh, God,” he said pulling her tight. “Thank God you know me. Thank God.”
Maggie turned to Debbie. “I think maybe he’s the one I need to be counseling. She seems to have her emotions under control.”
“This is the first time she has indicated in any way she knew who he was. He has been waiting for this day for a long time.”
After a half hour or so, both Robert and Maggie left. Gini and Ric sat on the couch, and he talked to her about his life. She said nothing more but was comfortable with him.
The next few weeks, Gini walked—very slowly, but walked—and she was saying more and more words. Ric couldn’t wait to be with her. Now that she knew him and called him by name, he had a whole new lease on life. She was going to recover, and they were going to live happily ever after. He put the thought of the babies out of his mind.
One evening, Ric was up on the bed holding his tablet so they could both see it. “Okay, Gins, see this unit? It’s ours. Val gave it to me for all my help. As soon as you are well enough, we’ll go live there. You can see the ocean.”
Gini looked at him and smiled. “Reek… bray… uff… car.”
“No, Gins, we don’t need to play with those braille cards, you can see.”
Debbie was updating Gini’s chart and cautiously listened to the conversation. Gini didn’t move, her eyes closed. “Pa… lay… uff… bray… car.”
“Come on, sweets, open your eyes so you can see the pictures. This is the Bahamas resort. You’re going to love it there too. There are so many things to do there.” He leaned over and kissed her on the cheek. Gini started thrusting her tongue. Debbie had left the room.
The next time Dr. Young visited, Debbie had a conversation with him.
“Robert, I think you need to talk to Ric. He thinks Gini’s going to get well enough to move to some resort in Florida and travel to the Bahamas.”
“I know. I’ve seen a definite trend of denial in him. I’ll talk to him about some therapy. We’ll get him into a group.”
One evening when Robert stopped in to see Debbie and Gini on his way home, they were at the table playing cards.
“Ock… tor… rob… ber… un… gee… Pa… lay… uff… bray… car.”
He looked at Debbie and then sat down. “Gini, you’ll have to teach me. I don’t know braille. Will you show me how?”
“Oh… yes…”
Debbie dealt them all two cards. Gini slowly rubbed her finger over the bumps, slightly thrusting her tongue. “No… be… uff… heet.”
“Robert, we’re playing blackjack. Do you know the game?”
“I do, but Gini has to help me with what cards I have.” He moved his cards closer to her and put her hand on top of them.
She rubbed them. “Ja… ka…
