Chapter 43 The Long Road to Recovery
She awakened sometime later to more people stirring in the room. A plump, balding man with thick glasses stood beside her bed, accompanied by two nurses and Evelyn.
“You were probably hoping to see Doctor McDreamy,” he grinned, a twinkle in his eye. “But you had to wake up to a bald, little, fat man.”
Alexandra let out a small chuckle, cutting it short as a jolt of pain shot through her head.
“Well, at least you have a sense of humor,” he said. “You know this hottie standing here with me?” he asked, gesturing to Evelyn.
A faint blush colored Evelyn’s cheeks, and Alexandra fought back another laugh. “Hottie” was certainly not a typical descriptor for Evelyn, who possessed an understated attractiveness, but certainly not the flamboyant label the doctor had chosen. “Yes, I know her.”
“Good,” he replied. “Tell her to stop flirting with me. I’m not her type.”
Alexandra instantly liked him. His easy humor disarmed her, easing the fear she hadn't consciously acknowledged. He pulled up a chair, settling into it backward, his arms resting on the backrest. His face, however, turned serious. “It’s a very good sign that you recognize your friend. I was pretty concerned about your head injury, but you’re showing some remarkably positive signs, and I don’t think it's as serious as we first thought. We did some pretty extensive surgery on your leg to put it back together, but I think it will heal quite quickly. We’ve done a thorough examination of your back and are keeping a close eye on some possible injuries to your spleen and other vital organs. We want to monitor you for a few days to see what develops, but there are no indicators that anything else is going to become a major issue. From what Evelyn told me, and from what we’ve observed, I would have to say you are a very lucky young lady. Do you have any questions for me?”
The fluorescent lights of the room hummed, casting a sterile glow on Alexandra. She shifted uncomfortably, a dull throb behind her eyes echoing the lingering disorientation. "No," she murmured, a slight shake of her head punctuating the word. "How long will I have this headache?"
A chuckle escaped the doctor. "Ah, Alexandra, you're not allowed to ask that. Didn't you just declare you had no questions?" He paused, smiled, and then responded. "It should gradually subside over the next couple of days. Anything else bothering you?"
"No," she replied, a faint sigh escaping her lips.
"Are you certain this time?" he pressed, a teasing glint in his eye.
"Yes," she affirmed, a faint smile touching her lips despite the ache.
"Good," he declared, a satisfied nod. "You've successfully navigated the 'crazy doctor test.' I'd say your head injuries are mercifully minor." He then rattled off a string of rapid-fire, unintelligible words into a small dictation machine, swiftly handed instructions to the waiting nurse, and scribbled a few minutes on the chart hanging at the foot of her bed. Finally, he looked up, his gaze meeting hers. "If you'll excuse me, Alexandra, I have other... charming patients to attend to. I'll check on you first thing in the morning." With a brisk turn, he exited the room, leaving the quiet hum of the clinic in his wake.
"Are you sure you don't need me to help you with that?" Evelyn asked, her hands already extended, poised to take the heavy pitcher Alexandra was struggling to balance. With her crutches, navigating from the refrigerator to the counter with a jug of milk was proving to be a precarious ballet.
"I'm okay," Alexandra insisted, her jaw tight.
"Are you absolutely sure?" Evelyn persisted, her brow furrowing with concern.
"Yes, I'm sure!" Alexandra snapped, the words coated with an irritability she hadn't intended. "Seriously, Evelyn, just chill a little bit. I'm fine."
Evelyn’s face fell, mirroring the wounded expression of a child who had just been scolded. It twisted Alexandra's gut to see, but the constant hovering was becoming unbearable. This had to stop.
"Evelyn, we need to talk," Alexandra began, pausing to gather her thoughts, searching for the right words. It was a strange sensation, preparing for a serious conversation about something that annoyed her. This newfound assertiveness was one of the unexpected changes that had bloomed in her since the accident. Ironically, the challenges posed by her injuries and the clumsy reliance on crutches had profoundly shaped her development. "Look, I know you feel terrible about what happened, but it wasn't your fault. There was absolutely nothing you could have done to prevent it. But..." She chose her next words with care. "I need your strength, not your pity. You can help me more by simply being your regular self. Does that make sense?"
"I just feel like it was all my fault, and I see you like this, and I just want to make it up to you," Evelyn confessed, the strain evident in her eyes. Alexandra could see the glimmer of unshed tears, a rare sight from someone who seemed so outwardly composed.
"Things happen sometimes," Alexandra continued, her voice softening. "Crazy things, you know? Things that don't make sense, things nobody can explain. This was one of those things. You didn't cause whatever spooked Champ and made him react that way..."
"But..." Evelyn started, but Alexandra cut her off, recognizing the familiar path of their past arguments.
"But no, you couldn't have stopped it either," she interjected gently. "It's all over now, and none of that matters. What you're doing, the way you're acting, it's actually making things harder for me. Strangely, this has been... good for me. I don't know how to fully explain it, but I'm growing up because of it. I’m more appreciative of everything, and I’m staring this whole situation in the face, and I'm beating it. For the first time in my life, I'm truly fighting for something. I would honestly rather have you fighting with me, by my side, than trying to make things 'easier' for me, which, ironically, just makes them harder. Do you understand?"
Alexandra watched as her words slowly sank in. Evelyn started to speak, then stopped herself. She raised a hand to her cheek, swiping away the tears that had begun to trickle from her eyes. "I'm sorry," she whispered.
"Don't be sorry," Alexandra replied, reaching out a hand to gently squeeze Evelyn's arm. "Just let go of this burden and be yourself. Carrying around this huge guilt is killing you, and it's making everything harder for me. If you truly want to help me, be tough again."
"Tough?" Evelyn's eyes widened with genuine astonishment. "What do you mean?"
"Remember when I first arrived here? You didn't let me sleep in and be lazy or mopey. That push, that 'toughness,' it actually helped me get through a lot."
"You had work to do then, but you can't work now," Evelyn countered, still looking confused.
"Sure, I can!" Alexandra insisted, a spark of determination in her eyes. "Maybe not cleaning stalls and working horses, but I should be able to do something around here. I need to be pulling my weight."
"I don’t know," Evelyn said, still hesitant.
"Find me something," Alexandra implored, her voice laced with desperation. "Please, this idleness is going to kill me. I'll die of boredom. I've got five or six more weeks like this, and then who knows how much longer until everything works right again. Evelyn, it's going to be a long winter if I don't have anything productive to do around here. And even longer if I have to put up with your pity, too." She offered a warm smile, softening the sharpness of her last words.
"I've got an idea," Evelyn declared, a light suddenly sparking in her eyes. She practically ran from the kitchen. Alexandra heard the front door slam, followed by the familiar rumble of the diesel pickup starting up and pulling away. Evelyn didn't seem angry, but Alexandra was a little taken aback by the abrupt departure. She poured herself a glass of milk and sliced off a couple of generous pieces of banana bread that Evelyn had baked especially for her. She buttered them liberally, then popped the slices into the microwave for a few seconds to warm them slightly. When they emerged, they were the perfect blend of melted and unmelted butter. It wasn't quite as good as when the loaf first came out of the oven, but it was still incredibly satisfying. Leaning against the counter, she devoured the bread and milk, considering a third piece but deciding to wait.