Wherever You Are

Chapter 2

Elwood wasn’t a glutton for punishment. Usually he didn’t willingly put himself in harm’s way or make rash decisions that would affect his emotional wellbeing. He was a paid therapist, a medical doctor of psychiatry. It was his job to see to the mental welfare of his patients, to help them stabilize their symptoms. But this time...he’d purposefully done something that would no doubt interrupt his sleep for the next few days.

El jumped up and paced the confines of his office. Going to the Power Center just to get a glimpse of Avery had been the wrong move. He’d known it when he used a break in his schedule to leave the hospital, to walk the short distance to the campus auditorium. Along the way, he’d reasoned with himself on the whys. Why did he feel the need to see her? Why would this time be any different from their last encounter? Why couldn’t he get over her?

That last question had almost made him turn around in his tracks and abort the mission. Yet he’d kept going, using the nice weather as an excuse to propel himself forward. When he’d arrived—late—Avery was at the end of her speech. She’d obviously done a fabulous job as the standing-room-only auditorium was full of people laughing and crying and clapping.

When she’d faltered on stage, he’d known immediately that his entrance hadn’t been as subtle as he’d hoped. How she’d seen him in the sea of faces was beyond him, but he’d figured it was just the way it had always been. Like moths to a flame, when one of them was near the other, there was no way to stop the pull.

What he hadn’t planned on was his need to confront her. Well, confront was the wrong word. He needed to see for himself if she was still as beautiful as he’d remembered, if she still smelled like jasmine and orchids. Up close and personal, she was as breathtaking as a sunset over white beach sand with her topaz eyes, smooth mocha skin and pouty lips. Her signature flowing mane had been trimmed into a chin-length bob, but it was still the color of molasses. If he’d dared to step closer, he knew she’d fit right in the nook of his arms, snugly under his chin.

El knew that if he closed his eyes right then, he’d see her, hear her soft voice and feel her lips against his. It was his most vivid fantasy, almost as if she’d set up permanent residence in his thoughts and dreams. It didn’t matter who he was with—and he’d made it a full-time job to get over her—she was the woman he longed for.

Thoughts like those often gave him pause when he thought of Avery. She was goal-oriented, driven to the point of madness at times. But then she could be sweet, docile even. It had been those times—when she was only his, when there was no pressure from the world she’d created in her head or the demands of her career—that made him love her even more.

The knock on his office door jolted El out of his head, for which he was grateful. Enough of the Avery haze.

His administrative assistant, Sophie, poked her head into his office. “Dr. Jackson, you have a visitor.”

Elwood nodded. “Who is it?”

“It’s me, Unc,” Drake said, pushing past Sophie. “I’ve been trying to call you all day. Let’s grab dinner.”

Ignoring his nephew, El smiled at Sophie. “Thanks, Sophie. You can leave for the day. Thanks for staying late.”

Sophie gave him a quick summary of his early morning schedule the next day, reminded him that she had a doctor’s appointment in the morning and would be late, then excused herself.

“I need a Sophie for my office,” Drake admitted, taking a seat on the couch intended for El’s patients. “What are you thinking for dinner?”

El leaned back in his chair and stared at his not-that-much-younger nephew. He hated when Drake called him Unc. At age thirty-five, El was only a few years older than Drake. They were more like brothers, than uncle and nephew.

“Do you always think about food?” El asked. “The only reason you’re here is because Love is out of town.” Drake’s wife, Dr. Lovely Grace Washington-Jackson, had been gone for a week and El had been forced to entertain his nephew every night. Even if he’d had a woman waiting in the wings, his nephew had made player hating his modus operandi for the week. “Maybe you need to take a cooking class so that you can make your own dinner when your wife is not available.”

“Hey, you need some laughter in your life,” Drake countered. “If it weren’t for me, you’d be sitting here at the hospital every night, charting and listening to yourself talk into that damn recorder.”

Drake had been insisting that El go out with Love’s cousin Lana. The sneaky matchmaking couple had blatantly set up numerous dinners under the guise of fake celebrations, like Love almost being pregnant or Drake successfully operating on a patient. Not that he didn’t hope Love would realize her dream of being a mother or that he wasn’t proud of his nephew’s impressive surgical record. But every single thing that happened didn’t need to be celebrated with dinner and drinks at a high-brow restaurant downtown.

“You don’t know my life, Drake. And I’d appreciate it if you didn’t act like you did.”

Drake shrugged. “I’m just sayin’. If I don’t tell you the truth, who will?”

“How about you concentrate on your life with your beautiful wife. Leave my business to me.”

It was no use telling Drake to mind his own business. He’d learned early on that he had no private business growing up in a house with the younger Jacksons.

Drake was the eldest son of El’s brother, the incomparable plastic surgeon Dr. Lawrence Jackson. Behind Drake were the twins, Ian and Myles. His sweet niece, Melanie, came later.

When El was five years old, Lawrence took him in and raised him along with his own children. Lawrence was twenty-one years older, and El was the “oopsie” baby, an unplanned inconvenience to his parents, who’d preferred to hire nannies than spend quality time with him.

Before his brother rescued him, El’s childhood had been cold, a web of loneliness and despair. His mother and father had barely spared him a glance, and when they did it was to tell him that he was a mistake they didn’t want.

Once El left his parents’ home, he’d never looked back or even communicated with them again. He couldn’t even bring himself to attend their funerals. As far as he was concerned, they didn’t deserve to be anyone’s parents.

Most often, his brother wasn’t known for his kindness, but that one decision had changed El’s life for the better. And despite Lawrence’s many flaws, inherited from their parents, El would always be grateful to his brother for stepping in.

El met Drake’s intent gaze. “What?” he asked.

Drake assessed him, a frown deepening on his brow. “You went to the Power Center, didn’t you?”

El stood up. “Are you ready to go? Thai?”

Drake stood, but made no move toward the door. “You did. You went to see Avery at the Black Celebratory.”

El closed his laptop and shoved it into his bag. As if Drake wasn’t standing there watching his every move, he continued to pack up his belongings. He’d finish working at home.

“How did she look?” Drake asked.

When he met his nephew’s gaze, he couldn’t ignore the gleam in Drake’s eyes. “Damn good,” he admitted finally. “She was still Avery.”

Drake barked out a laugh. “I knew you wouldn’t be able to resist. I always told you that you let her go too easily, but you’re too damn stubborn to admit it.”

“I thought I was the psychiatrist in the family. You stick to cardiothoracic surgery, and stop trying to figure me out.”

“Did you talk to her?”

El zipped up his messenger bag. “I did.”

“Well?” Drake asked after a few seconds.

“Well, nothing. She is still Avery, busy and about her business.”

The sarcasm in his words wasn’t lost on his nephew, who folded his arms across his chest and planted himself on the arm of a chair.

“Drake, I don’t want to talk about her,” El persisted. “I went to see her. We had words. I left. Nothing more, nothing less. Let’s go.”

Except, El knew there was more to that visit than he’d let on to Drake.

“How long will she be here?” Drake stood up and walked toward the door. “I want to see her.”

“I have no idea.” They left his office and headed toward the elevators. “I had to use the emergency room valet when I came back.” El had been called back to the hospital earlier when one of his patients attempted suicide, and had never gotten a chance to move his car.

They fell into step beside each other as they walked to the Emergency Department parking lot.

A few people breezed past them as they neared the doors. El noted the crowd in the waiting room.

“Are those photographers?” Drake asked, pointing toward the glass doors at the entrance.

El frowned. Photographers in the ER were a rare occurrence, and he wondered what had happened. He caught a glimpse of the same guard he’d seen earlier with Avery as the burly man stormed into the triage area.

When he saw a distraught Jessica run in next, his heart fell. Because on the gurney behind Jess was Avery.

Drake jumped into action first, calling Avery’s name as he met the paramedics. Shock, fear and concern shot through El at the sight of an unconscious Avery. The paramedics yelled out commands, while Drake barked out a few of his own.

“El?” Drake barked. “Snap out of it.”

El peered down at Avery, then at Jess. “What happened?” he shouted.

Jess was barely holding on. Her eyes were swollen and red, and pieces of tissue were stuck to her cheek. “She...” she croaked, swallowing visibly. “I knew she didn’t feel well. I told her to rest, but she wouldn’t. El, what if she dies?”

El grabbed Jess’s shoulders and squeezed gently. “She won’t die, but I need you to tell me what happened.”

El prided himself on being able to hear two conversations at once. It often came in handy in his line of work. He was able to talk to Jess and hear the symptoms being thrown out by the medical personnel working on Avery. Vision changes and high blood pressure. Jess continued her explanation, telling El about Avery’s behavior after the graduation. Severe headache. The other woman explained that Avery told her she couldn’t see her. Possible stroke.

Possible stroke? He turned to Drake. “What?” he asked.

Drake lowered his head. “It sounds like it.”

Before El could ask anything else, emergency room staff were there, pulling Avery behind the frosted glass. Drake was right behind them, dialing furiously on his phone.

Jess tried to push her way through, but El held her back. “Jess, you can’t go back there.”

“But she needs me,” Jess yelled, panic in her voice. “I can’t leave her alone.”

“She’ll be fine. Let the doctors do their job.”

El couldn’t believe how easily the words came out. Sure, he’d practiced them thousands of times in medical school. When there was nothing else left to say, encourage the family to let the doctors do their job. Only this wasn’t a random patient; it was Avery, the only woman he’d ever loved. And she was fighting for her life.

Hours later, an ER doctor pulled some strings and El and Jess were allowed in the room while the doctors worked on Avery. Drake had been called away for an emergency, but had been checking in periodically.

It was surreal to see his colleagues, some of his friends, working on Avery. Many of them had attended college with them, had known her before she was the Avery Montgomery who had a hit television show on network television. Of course, they were professional, but occasionally one of them would shoot him a sad glance. A few would give him updates as they worked.

Avery Montgomery was high profile, and the hospital had taken steps to secure the facility so that they could save her life without interruptions. Only a few people were allowed on the hidden floor where they’d taken her. It hadn’t stopped the phone from ringing. Jess had two, and had been frantically barking orders over the lines. Each call had seemed to fray Jess’s nerves even more, and he’d finally convinced her to hand over the devices to him.

El had managed to get Jess to settle down, but every few minutes she would break down in a fit of tears. This time Jess was bent over, shaking, as a sob broke through the activity in the room.

He rubbed her back. “Jess, she’s going to beat this.”

His words were meant to soothe Jess, calm her. But they weren’t just for her benefit. They were for his, as well.

She peered up at him and offered him a watery smile. “What if she doesn’t?”

“Don’t say that,” he snapped, before he was able to catch himself.

“I told her to cancel the trip to LA, to rest. She just didn’t look good. I know her, had a feeling she’d forgotten to eat.”

El chuckled. “I remember. That woman never took care of herself. I had to make her drink a protein shake or eat an apple when she was working in the lab.”

Jessica shook her head. “When she came back from the graduation she was distracted, but I could tell she was battling something.”

El couldn’t help the guilt that crept in at Jessica’s admission.

“I told her to lie down before we went to the airport,” she continued. “El, watching my best friend collapse into a seizure was the worst thing I’ve ever witnessed.”

He was at a loss for words. El knew that was saying a lot for Jess, considering her husband had died a few years earlier.

Shaking her head, Jess finished her bottled water. “It was awful. And I feel so bad that I didn’t believe her at first. I thought she was joking.”

“Don’t do that to yourself. You couldn’t have known.”

The doctors had told him and Jess that Avery had a stroke that affected her vision and caused her to lose her sight earlier when she was with Jess. According to the attending physician, surgery wasn’t needed, which was a relief to El. Yet there was no way to tell if the damage was permanent at that point, since Avery was still unconscious. El could only pray that it wasn’t, because if Avery lost her sight forever, it would destroy her.

Chapter 3

Where am I? Avery heard voices, but they weren’t familiar. They were detached, stiff. Doctors? She tried to open her eyes, tried to speak, but the words wouldn’t come. She tried to open her eyes, but darkness surrounded her.

“Avery?” Jess’s voice in her ear immediately calmed her.

“Jess,” Avery muttered with a cough.

“I’m here,” her friend said. “You’re at the University hospital. You had us worried sick.”

Why?

Avery remembered the graduation, being face-to-face with El and the hotel room. When she felt the flutter of her lashes on her cheeks as she blinked, she realized that her eyes had been open, but she couldn’t see.

Fear welled up inside her as she tried to hone in on the sounds and sensations around her—the shrill beeping of machines, the suction of the blood pressure cuff on her arm, the foul, dry taste in her mouth, the medicinal hospital smell. Four of her senses were working, but the one she relied on the most, the one she needed to earn her bread and butter, had failed her.

Closing her eyes, she let a whimper escape and the tears followed shortly after. The muscles in her legs tightened, and the urge to flee took over. But she couldn’t move.

Avery felt Jess’s hand rubbing her arm, and she reached out to hold on to it with her other hand. Squeezing tightly, she said, “Please tell me this isn’t permanent. What’s wrong with me?”

Her voice sounded desperate to her own ears and she wondered who was in the room with her. She had to assume there were people she knew in the room with her, people with whom she’d attended medical school, but she still hadn’t recognized any of the voices.

“Calm down, hun,” Jess whispered. “Your blood pressure is spiking again.”

Avery gasped, expelling a ragged breath. It hurt to breathe. It hurt to think. “Blood pressure. Why?”

“You had a stroke. The doctors think it was caused by high blood pressure brought on by continued stress. The scans indicate you have blood on the brain.”

Avery knew what that meant. Years of studying to become a doctor hadn’t left her. Vision changes brought on by a stroke were hard to overcome. The likelihood of regaining her sight was low, rare. Squeezing her eyes closed, she couldn’t hold it back any longer. She sobbed openly, screamed loudly, drowning out everything around her. It was an uncontrollable, ugly cry. In that moment, she didn’t care who heard her. Nothing mattered, not appearances, not her pride.

Jess held her, rubbed her back and murmured words of encouragement in her ear. “Oh, hun, I’m here. I won’t leave. You can depend on me.”

“What am I going to do?” Avery cried. “How am I—?” She choked as the tears continued to flow.

“Avery?”

Avery froze. Turning her head to his voice, she called his name. “El?”

“Yes,” he said. His calm voice soothed like balm to an open wound.

“You’re here?” It wasn’t a question. Well, at least, she hadn’t intended it to be.

She reached out and within a few seconds she felt the stubble on his chin. She inhaled the lingering scent of his cologne, let the notes of sage, lavender and mandarin ease her mind. Her fingers traced the outline of his forehead, felt the frown lines on his forehead. She brushed the line of his nose and ran her thumb over his full lips.

She smelled the hazelnut on his breath, felt it against her cheek as he leaned in.

“You’re okay,” he told her. “You’re going to be just fine.”

Her first response to his words was to nod in agreement. Because, for some reason, she believed him. Logically, she knew the odds, but El had a way of making her believe almost anything.