The Chair

The Chair- Three

Holly sat alone, flipping through the TV, thinking about the past few months. She thought about how much she'd changed after losing a loved one. She thought about Sharon, her nephew Sam, her own children and their very strained relationship. She wondered what they were doing, choking up when she thought about their reaction if she got the courage to call them – should they even answer the phone.

She started crying. The should have’s and could have’s returned.

I should’ve visited her more in Charleston.

I should’ve called more.

I could’ve been a better sister.

Now she’s gone, forever.

Holly clutched the couch pillow, holding it tightly, tears streaming.

“She’s gone.”

“I could’ve,” Holly paused, thinking about her own life. “I could’ve been a better aunt, a better mother to my own children. I shouldn’t have married Jon!” She threw the pillow across the room.

Holding her face, wiping her tears, she shook her head. Alone on the couch, she recalled how much her own kids disliked their stepfather, Jon. “I don’t blame them,” Holly said aloud.

“They’re far away, they want nothing to do with me,” Holly thought, more guilt flooding her mind. “Jon never liked Sharon to begin with.”

She cried more, picturing her sister’s smiling face, wishing she could call her, hear her voice, or give her one last hug. Holly often spoke with her other younger sister, Julie. Their relationship had improved since Sharon’s death. Julie lived in Charleston as well, the distance making visits infrequent.

She tried to reach out to her nephew, Sam, but to no avail. Holly learned from Julie that Sam was a total mess, still inconsolable, living alone in Sharon’s house. Julie said she checks on him, invites him over, and buys him groceries, but he remains a husk, a shell of a person, barely alive.

Holly cried again, “He loved his mother so much.”

She fell asleep on the couch sometime after midnight. Jon was still out with who knows who. A phone call awakened Holly. It was her sister Julie.

“Holly, it’s Sam,” Julie said, her voice frantic.

“Please no, not again. Please not another one, please be alive,” Holly thought.

“He’s been in a wreck,” Julie cried.

“No, please don’t say it, please be a dream,” she thought.

“He’s in Miami in the hospital,” Julie got out.

Her heart was pounding with slight relief that another family member hadn’t tragically died washed over her. “He’s- he’s here?”

“Yes. He was in a bad wreck, he was drinking. I don’t even know what he was doing down there. I got a call from the police department. He must’ve had me listed as a contact, or maybe they went through his phone,” Julie explained.

“But he’s alive?”

“Yes. He’s in rough shape though.”

The only thing on Holly’s mind was that she needed to be there with him. She got the room information from Julie, put on her slippers and sped off to the hospital, still in her pajamas.

————

In the quiet solitude of the hospital room, Sam lay unconscious, a silent sentinel in the battle against his own body. Holly waited anxiously, her heart racing with every beep of the monitors that surrounded him. The doctor's words hung heavily in the air, a stark reminder of the precarious line her nephew tread between life and the unknown.

The doctor spoke in a gentle, measured tone, recounting the horror of the accident. "No seat belt, multiple impacts to the head," he said, shaking his head slightly. His expression was one of concern mixed with a hint of regret. "The car rolled over several times." Each word was a dull thud in the emotionally charged silence, echoing the tragedy that had brought them all here.

Holly's eyes remained fixed on Sam, her mind racing with a thousand what-ifs and maybes. The doctor's voice was a distant murmur as he discussed the medically induced coma, a necessary measure to allow Sam's brain to rest and heal.

"The aftereffects, if he wakes up, could be..." The doctor paused, searching for the right words to ease into the delicate topic. "Well, they can vary significantly." He cleared his throat and continued, "We've seen cases where patients experience memory loss, some even forgetting who they are or those closest to them." Holly felt a cold grip of fear squeeze her heart. The thought of Sam not remembering her, not knowing his own life, was unbearable. "Speech may be slurred or difficult for a time. And there's a chance of vision problems."

Holly sat next to her sleeping nephew, gathering her thoughts. He had no one, he was alone. His mother died and here he was in the hospital. The doctor nodded his head and quietly excused himself, leaving Holly alone with Sam and the never-ending symphony of beeping.

She placed her hand on his, her other hand’s fingers running through his blond hair that wasn’t covered by bandages. She recalled his face at his mother’s funeral. He was numb, emotionless, staring blankly at nothing. Holly remembered hugging him then. Sam just stood there, unmoving, unresponsive. At Sharon’s house, he was in the bedroom, not interacting with anyone, mourning.

“Sam,” Holly whispered. She leaned down and kissed the side of his head.

She sat by his side, drifting off to sleep as the sun was rising.

**

That evening, Holly was packing a few items at her home. She was headed back to the hospital to be there with Sam. She had been there all day.

“What do you mean you’re staying there?” Jon complained. “I was thinking tonight we could go out. I got a room reservation at this club downtown. I found some guys who're willing to f*ck you for a camera–”

“No. I’m not going out. I’m not hooking up with some guy you find for me. I’m not calling a past boyfriend. I’m going to be there for Sam,” Holly snapped at Jon.

Jon leaned against the door frame, his arms crossed. "Come on, Holly, you hardly know the kid. I mean, how often do you see that side of the family? And now you're going to play the hero? That's rich, coming from you."

She froze.

"What the hell are you talking about?" she hissed.

Jon took a step closer, his face twisted with contempt. "Oh, come on, Holly. Your track record isn't exactly stellar. Your own kids don’t like you, so now you want to feel good about yourself and be there for your nephew. What kind of mother does that make you?"

"Stop-" she began.

But Jon wasn't done. "You've been a sh*tty mom, Holly. You're just trying to bury that guilt by being there for Stan. You think you can make up for your own shortcomings by playing savior?"

The words hit her like a sledgehammer. For a moment, she just stared at him, her eyes wide with shock. Then, without thinking, she slapped him. The sound echoed through the room, as sharp as the pain that shot across Jon's face. "It's Sam," she corrected him, her voice cold as ice.

Grabbing her bag, she spun on her heel and stormed out of the room. The floorboards creaked under her footsteps as she moved down the hallway, each step punctuating her fury. She didn't bother to look back; she knew the look of hurt and surprise that would be etched on Jon's features. She couldn't bear to see it, couldn't bear to admit that maybe there was some truth to his accusations.

--------

On the way to the hospital, Jon’s words rang through her ears. He was right to some degree – she had been a bad mother to her own kids, hardly having much of a relationship with them. She shook her head, thinking about all the s****l escapades she went on with Jon. She should’ve been there for her children instead.

Holly asked herself if she was indeed trying to bury the guilt she had by spending time with Sam. She didn’t know, but didn’t care – she knew someone had to be there with him.

Sam was right where she left him. Holly took her seat, held his hand, and sat there.

Jon called several times the next morning – Holly didn’t answer.

Julie arrived that afternoon, joining Holly at Sam’s side.

“I don’t know why he drove down here,” Julie thought out loud. “Maybe he had to get away, to just drive somewhere and picked this direction.”

“I know he wasn’t coming to see me,” Holly’s eyes lowered. “My own kids won’t.”

Julie put her arm around Holly. "Hey, don't think about that right now. Right now it's about Sam." She said quietly. "Thank you for staying with him."

Holly nodded, “He’s all alone.”

“I know. I come by to visit him at Sharon’s, bring him dinner, and while he’s physically there, he’s not. You know?” Julie pointed to her head.

“I can’t imagine what he went through, to lose her at such a young age.”

“He didn’t go back to school, he’s wasting away and now this,” Julie shook her head.

“We have to make sure we don’t lose him either.”

Julie stayed for the rest of the week, flying back to South Carolina the following weekend. Holly was alone with Sam again, not answering Jon’s calls, only going home to bathe and grab clean clothes. She slept on the small couch in his hospital room.

Fourteen days after Sam’s arrival at the Miami hospital, he woke up.

Slight movements here and there, moving his feet, coughing, nodding his head when the doctor asked him questions. He’d squeeze Holly’s hand. She’d hug him, giving his forehead a kiss. Sam’s eyes remained closed, but Holly saw a small smile form on his face.

“I’m right here,” she whispered, watching Sam nod his head.

The next day was more of the same. It looked as though his eyes briefly opened, then closed to shut out the bright lights. Holly fed him dinner, assisting him with moving the spoon to his mouth. She ran her fingers through his hair again, seeing his eyes half closed. Sam tried to speak, but the words wouldn’t come just yet. He instead smiled in Holly’s direction.

The next day brought more progress. The following evening, the lights turned low, moonlight coming in through the hospital window; Holly’s head was resting on the rail of Sam’s bed when she felt his hand touch her. Sam’s touch was gentle. His fingers barely scratched at her scalp, moving her hair around.

“Sam?” Holly woke up, grabbing his hand. “I’m here, I’ve always been here.”

Sam whispered something, but Holly couldn’t hear it. “Are you trying to speak? Take it easy, sweetie, I’m right here.”

His mouth moved again, he cleared his throat. He squeezed her hand.

“Sam,” Holly leaned in closer. “What is it?”

Sam spoke once more, this time more audible, “M-M-Mom.”

Holly’s eyes widened. “Oh no,” she thought, “he doesn’t remember.”

She saw his eyes wide open, staring into hers. “Mom,” Sam said again, louder. He started crying, tears of joy, smiling widely at his aunt. “I knew you were here with me.”

“Sam,” Holly paused. “I, uh-”

“I missed you so much, Mom. I knew it was a bad dream. The cabin. It wasn’t real. I’ve been asleep this whole time. I thought I lost you.”

“Sam,” Holly tried to stop him, but he kept speaking.

“I love you so much. You’ve been right here all along, I thought you were,” Sam paused. “It was a bad dream.”

Holly nodded. “He thinks I’m Sharon,” she thought.

She did the only thing she could in this situation, the only thing that came to mind. “Yes, sweetie. I’m here. I’ve been here with you while you slept. You were in a bad car wreck, but you’re fine now.”

“Mom,” Sam tried to sit up, but struggled. He opened his arms, inviting her in for a hug. Holly nodded and hugged her nephew.

“It was a horrible dream,” Sam said again.

“Yes,” Holly said, not sure what else to add.

“I love you,” Sam ended the hug, his hand caressing Holly’s face.

Holly took his hand, seeing Sam’s sweet smile for a woman he thought was his mother. She kissed his hand.

“I love you too, son.”

—————