He was dressed as usual, a nice suit, crisp shirt, and colorful tie. He visited Gini for an hour or two each morning before going to work.
Debbie gathered up the soiled linens and started out the door.
“Listen, Debbie, I’m going to be making a business trip down to Florida. I’ll only be gone for a day. Do you think that will be okay? If you think it will affect Gini in any way, I won’t go.”
She smiled. “I think a day or two will be fine. Florida, lucky you. It’ll be a nice break for you to get out of this cold weather.”
“I’ll be working most of the time, but, yeah, it’s warm there. My client lives in a mansion on the intercoastal canal in Fort Lauderdale. I stay in his guesthouse, and he has a big yacht. Not a bad life for my friend Valentino.”
Debbie rolled her eyes—he couldn’t see her. Of course, he has a rich friend with a fancy place, she thought. It appeared Ric always found the pot of gold. She wondered if he had ever had anything bad in his life, other than the situation Gini was in now. “Sounds lovely. Sure you want to come back?”
“Absolutely! I need to be with my sweet Gins. She’s going to pull out of this; I know she will. She’s strong. Much stronger than either Franco or me. God, I love her.”
“So how is it you and Franco know each other?”
Ric took in a deep breath and let it out. “Long story. We met in high school, our freshman year. We both were pretty much raising ourselves. We became brothers, thanks to Gini’s mom; Mama Elizabeth took in all stray kids. If it hadn’t been for her, who knows where Franco and I would have ended up?” He traced his finger down Gini’s cheek and then pulled the towel up to dry her mouth. “Franco would probably be in jail. He was a tough kid, had to be where he lived. Gini and I lived in a better part of the neighborhood. Sweets.” He looked at her adoringly.
“Here in New England?”
“No, Sacramento, California.”
The door opened, and Robert walked in. “Mr. Santini, how are you doing?”
“Well, thanks.”
Debbie took the opportunity to take the soiled linens to the laundry chute.
Up to this point, Gini had not reacted to any of the stimuli performed on her by Debbie or Dr. Young. Her eyes did not follow the motion when her head was turned from side to side, and her pupils were uneven. Nor was there any reaction when a noxious sternal rub or pressure under her jaws was administered.
Dr. Robert Young went in to see Gini again that afternoon. He rolled her from her side to her back, then checked her eyes and reflexes. There was a slight reaction on her left side.
The door swished, and Debbie walked in. “Sorry, I was on a call for a therapy session for Garry.”
“That’s okay; I just got started.”
Debbie picked up the electronic patient record.
Robert pressed hard on Gini’s left-hand nail bed. There was a slight resistance; she tried to pull away. He lifted her arm up: the same reaction.
“Response on the left side. I also detected a reflex, same side.”
Debbie wrote the info on the record. “Really? That’s new.”
“She’s coming out of the coma. We’ll see just how much our girl can give us in the next few days.”
The following days were the same, some reaction on the left side.
Ric took his trip to Florida, which ended up being three days.
Val greeted him with open arms. “How’s mi chica?”
Ric gave them all the report on how Gini’s pregnant body had been hit by a motorcycle and thrown into a metal bench that penetrated her brain. The babies had lived long enough for him to hold them and tell them he loved them. Rosa cried the whole time he told the story.
That night, Kat sat down next to him by the pool. “I’m so sorry for you, Ricky.”
“Thanks for your sympathy. I still have her, I still love her, and I will be with her until she has recovered. Maybe someday I can bring her back down here. She loves it here; it will be good for her.”
Kat reached her brown hand over and took his hand. “I like her. She’s kind and beautiful. I told her I wanted her life. She had it all, and now, that’s all gone.” She turned and looked at him. “I have prayed for her every day and lit a candle. I want her to be well again.”
He reached over and hugged her. “Thank you. She liked you, too.”
The following Monday, Debbie washed around Gini’s head and face.
“Eee.” Gini made the sound.
Debbie cupped Gini’s face in her hands. “Baby, are you talking?”
Gini’s body was limp, her eye slightly open. That wasn’t unusual for the eyes. She wasn’t consciously opening them.
Debbie brushed one of her hands across Gini’s cheek. There was no more response.
“Okay, you rest now. I’ll be back later today for your therapy.”
The door slid open and then swished closed—Debbie didn’t hear her. “Eee, eee.”
For the first time in over a week, Franco visited. When he walked in the room, he felt sick to his stomach. Her head was cocked back as usual, but her eyes were partly open. She didn’t move, and he said nothing. He stood at the end of the bed for a few seconds, then left the room. Outside, he leaned against the wall.
Debbie walked up. “Everything okay?”
“Can she see me? Her eyes are so
