Southern Comfort (Southern 2)

“Kallie.” I hear Jacob, and I want to laugh. I would kill to lift my hand or even wiggle my toes. I focus on wiggling my toes, expecting my feet to move. I groan in frustration when they don’t, and the talking around me stops.

“Darlin’?” I hear Casey, then feel my hand picked up, and I groan again. He brings my hand to his lips, and I want to tease him about holding my hand. But instead, my head pounds; it’s almost like there is a jackhammer in there. I groan again, and this time, my eyes flutter open. But I close them just as fast when the light is too bright.

“Too,” I say in a whisper, licking my lips, “bright.”

“Turn off the lights,” Casey orders. “Jacob, get the shades.”

I open my eyes again slowly, not knowing if I will be able to, but they flutter open again. It’s better. “Hey there, darlin’.” I look over at Casey, seeing the anguish in his eyes. I want to ask him if he’s okay. I want to ask so much, but my mouth is so dry.

“Don’t talk. Jacob went to get the nurse,” Kallie says from beside me. I look over to see her face stained with tears. I’m about to ask her if anyone else is hurt, and I suddenly start to panic, thinking maybe the man hurt Charlotte or Billy before coming to me. But a nurse swings the door open.

“Well, well, that was quite a nap.” She smiles, coming over to the side where Kallie is. “I know that one is not going to let go of your hand,” she says, motioning with her head to Casey, who just glares at her, and she laughs. “So I’m going to take your vitals on this side.” She takes my blood pressure. “How are you feeling?”

“Head hurts,” I say, closing my eyes but not for long because I’m so scared I’ll get sucked under again.

She takes off the armband, the sound of the Velcro making me wince. “Only normal. You got a big bump on your head.”

Lifting my hand, I feel my head, finding the big bump on my head. “How?”

“I think when the shot fired, you got so scared you smacked your own head into the wall,” Casey says, his voice soft, while my hand is still warm in his. He doesn’t loosen his grip on me, and I don’t move my hand away from his.

The door opens, and this time, the doctor enters with a smile. Then he looks over at Casey who glares at him. “I see we are calmer.” I look from the doctor to Casey, wanting to ask what is going on, but the door opens again. Charlotte comes in, sobbing when she sees me with my eyes open. Her hands go to her mouth as she comes over to me and almost pushes Casey to the side.

“Oh my Lord,” she says, taking my face into her hands. “You had us all worried,” she says. “Can she eat?” she asks the doctor, and the doctor just looks at her.

“I’ve never seen an emergency room overtaken by family before,” he says. I want to correct him and tell him that they aren’t my family, but for this one time, I pretend I have a family who cares. A family who would go above and beyond for each other. “If you’ll just give us five minutes to examine her, then she’s all yours,” he says. Kallie nods, turning to walk out, followed by Jacob, Charlotte, and Billy. “You are obviously going to stay?” he asks Casey, who just looks at him.

“Obviously,” he says, and I look over at the nurse who is biting her lips to stop herself from laughing out loud. The doctor takes my vitals again, then looks at me.

“You have a concussion,” he says. “Your body went into shock, which is why you were unconscious for so long.” He puts his stethoscope around his neck, tucking his hands into the pockets of his white lab coat. “As I mentioned to you”—he looks at Casey—“after you let me speak …” I look back at Casey, who just rolls his eyes. “I told you she would wake up when she was ready.”

“I heard you,” Casey says.

“If everything looks good, she can go home tonight. But,” he says, and I look at him, “it’s best if she gets rest and no television or computer.”

“For how long?” I ask him, thinking of all the work that will pile up.

“At least seven days. After seven days, if you turn on the television or computer, and you get a headache, you have to turn it off and start over at day one again,” he says. I don’t even want to think about how I’m going to work if I can’t use my computer. “If the headache is really bad, I want you to come in.”