Chapter 3. They meet.
Almost four months passed and though they did not know it, Erin and William were destined to be thrown together by the circumstances of their lives.
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Erin had to deal with two harsh realities. First was coming to grips with the realization that James was gone. Gone. Never coming back. And worse yet was that she didn't even get to go to his funeral. Her parents went and told her it was a moving ceremony. They said that several of his students came to say their goodbyes as did his friends. But she didn't get to go. The one person who loved him and needed him more than the air around her, didn't get to go say a proper goodbye.
Second (and she didn't know if it was worse than James being dead) was the agonizing truth that she was never going to dance again. And the prospect of walking seemed to slip farther away from her with each passing day. As she lay there in the semi-dark stillness of her hospital room trying to fall asleep, all she could really do was listen to the buzz of the pale yellow light in the sterile bathroom off to her left. The sound of it drove her crazy. Why couldn't she remember to ask someone to turn it off?
Erin willed her legs to move, but to no avail. Not that she would have been able to get to the switch so she could turn it off herself; but rather, so she could simply have the satisfaction of knowing that she could do it...if she wanted. But she couldn't and she knew the odds were against her ever being able to jump up out of any bed to do anything.
After three weeks she was nearly ready to pull her hair out by its roots. Thankfully the doctors released to her parents for home care. She felt so worthless knowing that she couldn't really 'do' anything and had to rely on her parents to help her. The next two and a half months were almost as nerve wracking as being in the hospital. The living room was turned into a makeshift bedroom since there was no way Erin could make it up the stairs in a full leg cast. Her parents made sure she had all the 'comforts' an incapacitated girl could want. TV, video games, magazines, and parents who doted on her.
Comforts, damn them. And when Karen and Randy came over all she wanted to do was throw up. Erin was actually mad at the two of them. Why? Because neither one of them 'looked' like they'd been in a car accident that had killed one person and left another irrevocably injured. But when they told her what had actually happened she wasn't sure if she should have cried or blasted them for telling her.
Karen spoke with tears in her eyes, "It was so bad. I remember hurting all over and looking over to see Randy..." Her voice trailed away.
Her husband, the quiet, humble banker cleared his throat, "I don't really remember much. I was pretty much out of it until the next day."
Erin could hear the tightness in her sister's throat when she started to speak again, "But I was wide awake." She absentmindedly played with the tissue in her hand, "And I couldn't do anything. I was pinned. When the paramedics came, they told me that Randy and I would be fine." Karen started sobbing so loudly she was barely able to catch her breath. "And then...and then...Oh, God, Erin. I...I'm so sorry."
Even though Erin was pretty sure of what Karen was going to tell her next, she had to know. She had to hear it. "Go on."
Karen sniffled and dabbed her eyes, "I asked them where you and James were because I knew you weren't in the car. And they said you were fine. Bastards."
Erin shook her head. The memory of looking around as she lay in the ditch on the side of the road rushed forward. She remembered screaming and seeing a motorcycle in front of her, its rear tire spinning like a child's top. And then, just as Karen started to talk, she got a flash of something so horrible she felt her blood run cold.
In her mind's eye, hidden deep within her subconscious, was the image of James lying halfway out of the car, his head resting on the pavement. His eyes were closed like he was sleeping. But she remembered seeing the pool of blood oozing away from him toward the ditch, following the practically invisible slope of the faded pavement. Erin knew he was dead right then, but for some reason, her mind told her it wasn't real.
She remembered feeling the gentle rainfall on her skin, but it wasn't real, either. Or was it? Erin couldn't separate what she knew to be fact from what she prayed was fiction. The next thing she really remembered was waking up in her hospital room. She'd been successful in forgetting about it all...until Randy and Karen opened their big mouths.
Karen looked at Randy as he leaned to kiss his wife's hand. Randy continued where Karen left off, "The troopers told us that the accident happened because...well...it was raining you know. And I...well...I..." He looked at his wife. Neither of them said a word.
Merle Durant quietly finished what his son-in-law started, "Honey, it seems that Randy ran the red light and there was a tractor trailer coming through the intersection at the same time. It...uh...it hit the Tahoe broadside."
Erin remembered seeing the lights of the truck. They came at her so quickly, blindingly. But the image of the motorcycle tire spinning weighed heavy on her, "The motorcycle...what about the motorcycle? Was the driver ok?" She didn't even seem to hear that it was Randy's fault. Maybe her mind was telling her not to hear it.
"Oh, that." Karen cleared her throat, "He's okay. He skidded out to avoid going into the whole thing. He had on a Kevlar suit." She giggled a bit, "Lucky rich bastard. Only got a broken arm and a sprained wrist. And there were two other cars that hit the back of the truck. But they weren't too seriously injured. Bumps, bruises, cuts and a couple of broken bones."
It was around this time when it dawned on Erin that her father said the accident was Randy's fault. Erin looked at her brother-in-law and was filled with a blind rage. Not at him, though. But rather, at herself. If she hadn't been fucking James and if she hadn't been taunting Randy, none of this would have happened. It was her fault. Not Randy's. James was dead because of her. Erin could taste the bitterness of bile that rested at the back of her mouth.
Erin didn't pay much attention to anything they said after that. She simply 'turned herself off' and fell into a deep depression. She didn't want to see anyone, talk to anyone or eat. The next week was a blur for her.