* * *
For more than two hours, Tanya waited anxiously for news on Kevin's prognosis. She was asleep now, stretched across two easy chairs in the waiting room, a red and green afghan cast over her body.
The chief surgeon entered the room and spoke to Malcolm. "The surgery removed several slivers of wood from Mr. Matwin's neck and head," he said. His expression was grave. "We did everything we could for him. The man is alive…his body breathes on its own, his heart beats…but…" The doctor paused.
"But…" Malcolm repeated, almost mechanically.
"There's substantial brain damage. He may never regain consciousness." He stroked Malcolm's shoulder. "We should, of course, always hope for the best."
"Of course. Thank you, doctor." Malcolm turned and looked down at Tanya, still sleeping. He fetched a glass of water, then gently fingered her cheeks. "Tanya," he said, softly. "Tanya…"
Tanya's eyes flew open and she sat up abruptly. "Kevin…is Kevin dead?"
Malcolm shook his head. "We can go see him now. He's resting." He handed her the glass of water. "I know you're a brave girl. Let me stand by you."
Tanya snapped her head around to face him. "Is he okay?"
"They don't know, Tanya. We have to wait and see. Several slivers entered his head from underneath the skull, at the neck. The brain-there's some damage."
"I understand. I thought it looked bad. He's not going to be okay, that's what you're saying, right?" Her face, white as paper, showed no emotion.
"It doesn't look good, but he's alive."
Tanya rose and followed Malcolm into Kevin's room.
"Would you rather be alone?" Malcolm asked. Tanya nodded.
She pulled a chair close to the top of Kevin's hospital bed and sat beside him. His head, wrapped in white bandages, rested on a nest of thick, spongy towels; his arms were crossed on his chest. Tanya took one of them and held it between both of hers. Tears flew from her eyes as she kissed it.
Not one angry word has ever come out of his mouth, she thought. She couldn't even remember a look in his eyes that expressed resentment toward her.
Tanya sighed and rested her cheek against Kevin's hand. She thought about his teasing moods, his way of getting to know her by probing and gentle questions. She remembered his efforts to make her feel secure and yet free, his attentive wait for her to respond to his passion. She looked at his face again and again, memorizing it, each line, each crease. She touched his lips and thought of his smile, so full of cheer, of his vivid eyes, like two windows wide open to capture the world's beauty. Her fingers caressed his face and then his famous rebellious forelock, which now fell softly in line with his other hair.