Seventy-five hours and Warren was still unresponsive. Diana wasn’t too worried about that. She had faith he would awaken and soon. It was the other that kept her pacing the floor at night unable to sleep. Paul had explained it to her that first night. Warren’s spinal injury was much more severe than the head injury. Paul couldn’t guarantee, even with rehabilitation, Warren would ever walk again.
Paul Thompson had always been pessimistic—always looking for the worst-case scenario. She’d always thought it a strange personality quirk for a doctor, so in opposition to Warren’s up beat optimistic outlook. Diana had to believe Warren would eventually fully recover. He’d taught her that. To fully believe something is possible is half the battle.
“Mom, the pancakes are burning.” Robbie bounded into the kitchen sniffing the air.
“Oh blast.” Diana whipped around to the stovetop and flipped the pancake, revealing the blackened underside. She removed it from the pan and dumped it into the garbage, then poured another one on the hot griddle.
“Mom, are you okay?”
“Of course, sweetie.”
“Is Dad okay? Did he wake up?”
She slid the cooked pancake onto a plate and poured another before turning to him. “Robbie, your Daddy hasn’t awakened yet. He’s in a deep sleep, so that his body can heal. Do you understand?”
“I’m not a baby, Mom. Russell told me all that already. I know Daddy is hurt bad. I prayed for him to wake up, so I could go see him.”
“Ah, Robbie, you miss him, I know. I’m sure he’ll wake up soon. You just have to be patient. Now, come sit down and eat your breakfast.” She placed the new pancake on top the first and put the plate along with butter and syrup on the table in the breakfast nook.
Robbie sat at the table and looked up at her. “Aren’t you and Lily having breakfast?”
“I had some toast earlier and Lily is still sleeping. I’m going to go get dressed. Sarah and Russell should be here any minute. Open the door for them, will you?”
“Sure.” He spoke around a mouthful of pancake.
The phone rang, as Diana walked out of the kitchen and she went back to answer it. “Hello, Franklin residence.”
“Sarah, what is it, what’s happened?” Diana’s legs went weak and she sat on one of the bar stools at the kitchen island.
“Thank God! I’m coming down right away. How is he—is he talking?”
“He’s good. Mom, he was asking for food.” Sarah laughed.
Diana’s laughter joined her daughter’s. “Tell him I’m on my way.”
She hung up the phone and looked over at Robbie. “Go tell your sister to get dressed. Daddy’s awake and we’re going to the hospital.”
Diana hummed happily, as she dressed, pushing the thought of Warren’s spinal injury to the far recesses of her mind. He was awake and alert. He was even hungry. That’s all that mattered.
Copyright ©Elizabeth Melton Parsons All Rights Reserved