The Way My Heart Beats

Chapter 7

It's been three long weeks since I found Clara unconscious. I stayed by her side for the first week finally having to go back to work after that. Thankfully, I am just downstairs so I come see her during breaks always hoping that she will wake up while I was visiting her. I don't want her to be alone in an empty room when she wakes.

I've stayed many nights at the hospital splitting them with Amelia, but sometimes we both stay. We stay up and talk about everything. She is a good friend for Clara and has become a friend to me. We don't talk much about Clara. I don't ask and she doesn't tell. It's not her life to tell about. I will wait to get to know Clara when she wakes up, but until then I'll just be content to only know how her heart beats.

I've even met her parents which sounds absurd, but once they found out about Clara they flew in immediately. They only stayed a few days since there wasn't any progress. I call them every night to give them the news that there isn't any news, but we always end up talking about other things. I'm not sure what idea they have about me. They know how we met, but they never question why I stay night after night beside a woman in a coma I barely know.

They're good people. They love their daughter, and I can tell whatever has Clara hurting has done its damage to her parents as well. There's this pull that lingers in the air that screams hurt. I suppose most would run, but it draws me in. It gives me purpose where I hadn't had any. I'm not saying I want to put a bandaid on every hurt this family feels, but I want in. I want to help them heal the way I've been able to heal from my heartbreaks.

John and Winnie, Clara's parents, have sent a package for her. They said something about a childhood stuffed animal or something. They're hoping it will help Clara come back to us. It's worth a shot. I'm on my way back to the hospital with this box now. I pull into the parking lot like I've done so many times over the last month. I reach over and run my pocket knife through the tape on the box revealing an old ragged, pink bunny rabbit. A note flies around the cab of my truck landing on the floorboard. I reach down to pick up the yellow tinted paper that reads:

Grant.

We know you don't know Clara the way you want to. You don't know what makes her hurt. What makes us hurt. But you will, in time. Just give it time. She's a strong one. She will be worth it. Just hold on a little bit longer. She will make her way back to us. To you.

We've prayed over this little bunny. That it will bring her back. There's something about prayer that works miracles. We pray that this ragged little thing can work a miracle for our Clara. And when she does come back to you, be patient with her. You've had all this time to fall for your sleeping beauty. Give her the time to see that you're her prince.

Love,
John and Winnie

P.S. Call it a mother's intuition. I've known all along *wink*

I let out the breath I'd been holding, and with that I know what I need to do.

I make my up to see Clara and run into Amelia who is just arriving to work. "I swear you're always here, aren't you?" I joke with her.

She gives me a laugh and replies, "oh didn't you know? I live here," she counters sarcastically.

"Probably seems like it." I say, sticking my hands in my pockets looking around as the pace of the hospital picks up with the changing of a shift.

"Yeah. It does." She gestures me to follow as she begins to walk needing to get where she's going. "Anything new with Clara?"

"No. The doctor came in for morning rounds about an hour ago. He said she looked good, but needed some encouraging to come back to us still." Shaking her head in understanding, she shifts her bag to her other shoulder. "This could go on for who knows how long. It's a game of wait and see."