Soul Caress. Kim Shaw
Daniels, I’m Dr. Moskowitz. Ms. Daniels?” a deep voice called, reaching her ears from a distance it seemed.
The voices asked her a myriad of questions, wanting to know if she knew her name or could tell them where she was. Kennedy answered slowly, trying to be as coherent as she possibly could. Each word was painful to articulate, her burning throat and vocal chords refused to cooperate with her. She knew the day of the week and the date. She recited her name and date of birth. She was even able to provide an oral history of her day, right up to Wynton Marsalis and the drive home. Everything after that was a mystery to her.
She begged and clamored for them to tell her what had happened to her. When the clatter in the room finally died down, all but one of the voices faded away.
“Kennedy, I know this must all be very confusing and upsetting to you, but I need you to try to calm down,” the stranger said soothingly.
He introduced himself again as Dr. Moskowitz, head of emergency medicine, and advised Kennedy that she was no longer driving toward her home but in fact at Annandale Hospital. She was in the intensive care unit where a team of doctors and nurses had been working through the night to take excellent care of her.
Kennedy could hear his voice but nothing he said made any sense to her. All she could think was that none of this could possibly be happening to her.
“Kennedy, we’ve contacted your family…the police found their phone number in your cell phone…they’re on their way,” Dr. Moskowitz said.
Kennedy could feel the doctor’s hands on her, cold hands that checked her pulse again. While Dr. Moskowitz’s voice was soft and composed, his hands felt rough against her bruised skin as he touched her.
“Kennedy, you are one fortunate young lady to have come out of that car wreck, and let me reassure you that you are going to be okay.”
By the time the doctor departed, his confident words that her prognosis for a full recovery remained fair ringing in the air, Kennedy had begun to scream again. This time the anguish resonated on the inside, her voice reverberating against the walls of her brain. A heaviness settled in the pit of her stomach like a boulder at the bottom of a creek. She cried a river of tears that soaked her bandages as she prayed for God to make what was happening not be happening to her. However, it was definitely real and she never felt more alone, or more vulnerable in her entire life than she did at that moment. The once fiercely independent young woman cried like a baby for her mother to come and kiss the pain away.
Chapter 2
Kennedy’s parents, Dr. and Mrs. Joseph Daniels, along with her sister, Madison, arrived at the hospital late in the morning following the accident. They imperiously descended upon the intensive care unit and demanded the full attention of the hospital staff. Joseph Daniels quietly, yet firmly requested that the doctors treating his daughter be paged and sequestered for a meeting at once. His wife of thirty years, Elmira Ellington Daniels, stood by his side, apparently used to watching her husband take command.
“Oh, dear Jesus,” Elmira bellowed upon seeing Kennedy as they entered her room.
Elmira crumpled against the stout frame of her husband. Kennedy was stirred awake by the unmistakable sound of her mother’s smoky voice. She turned her head in the direction of the noise and immediately felt the smooth, beefy hands of her father wrap themselves around one of hers.
“Elmira, calm down. She’s going to be fine,” he said reassuringly. “Sweetheart, can you hear me?”
“Yes, Dad,” Kennedy croaked, her throat still hoarse and hurting.
Suddenly, Elmira was overcome with sobs and, without the ability to see her mother, Kennedy was sure she was dramatically fanning herself to ward off one of her infamous fainting spells. Right on cue, Joseph issued a familiar phrase.
“Elmira, you don’t look very well. Why don’t you go outside for a while? Have yourself a cup of coffee or tea,” he added. “I saw a café right near the security desk in the lobby.”
Kennedy was used to scenes such as this one, but for once she was just not up to playing her part in it. Joseph and Elmira had a perfunctory marriage in which the pampered Elmira was shielded from any discomfort or uneasiness. Kennedy had fallen into the habit of echoing Joseph’s sentiments in many instances. This was not one of them.
“Yes, I suppose you’re right,” Elmira said in a reluctant tone that was worthy of an Oscar award.
Elmira rose from her perch at the side of Kennedy’s bed. She smoothed the front of her brown tweed flare-legged pants. At fifty-two years old, Elmira Daniels looked more like a pampered celebrity than a housewife, married to a cosmetic surgeon. Today’s designer outfit, pantsuit, chocolate-brown patent leather platforms and handbag, was what could be called dressing down for her. Her attire alone could be priced at over three thousand dollars, and that figure tripled if one were to assess the four-karat pear-shaped diamond ring set in platinum, the two-karat diamond earrings or the solid gold watch on her dainty wrist. Kennedy inhaled her mother’s signature scent and the familiar feeling was both comforting and disturbing.
Elmira’s thick wavy hair was cut in a short bob, shaved in the back circa 1986 Anita Baker, dyed dark brown with blond highlighted bangs sweeping her forehead. The only sign revealing her age were the tiny crow’s-feet visible near the outside corners of her hazel eyes. That minor flaw was no match for the meticulously applied cosmetics in which she lived. Her buttermilk complexion was as beautiful today as it was when she was half her present age. Her face wore a dual expression today, the first of which was concern for her eldest child. The second expression—slightly masked, yet apparent to those closest to her—spoke to the indignation she felt that such a tragedy could have befallen one of the Daniels.
Madison rolled her eyes, sickened by her mother’s constant dramatics and her father’s characteristic indulgence. If Kennedy could respond in the same manner, it was no doubt that she would have because as solicitous as her sister was, today’s behavior was extreme.
“Hey, sis, are you hanging in there?” Madison asked, moving closer to the side of the hospital bed after Elmira exited the room.
“Maddie? Yeah, I’m okay,” Kennedy lied.
Kennedy’s heart warmed at the sound of her sister’s high-pitched voice. With the aid of the pain medications she’d been given, which had the effect of making her mind a fuzzy place where happy images of her life rested, she fondly remembered when Madison, three years her junior, had first begun to talk in complete sentences. The family had been certain that she’d grow out of her voice or that the highness of her tone would deepen as she got older, but it never really did. Kennedy used to tease her when they were little, telling her she sounded like a cartoon character. Madison, never one to care what people thought of her, would giggle and imitate Minnie Mouse. As Madison grew older, every part of her changed and developed except the tone of her voice. That voice set her apart from the other girls and the boys flocked to it and to her like kittens to warm milk. Madison learned to use her voice, and all of her other attributes, to get the things she wanted. She was shorter than Kennedy, closer to her mother’s height at only about five-seven in heels. Her complexion matched Elmira’s, while Kennedy had inherited a shade closer to their father Joseph’s golden-brown skin tone. The sisters shared the same high foreheads and wide, dimpled smiles, making it clear to anyone who saw them that they were related despite the other physical differences. If there remained any doubt that they were sisters, those doubts were silenced when anyone attempted to mess with one or the other.
One hot summer day when Kennedy was nine years old and Madison six and attending Elko Lake sleepaway camp for the first time, Kennedy had been down near the lake with the older campers, learning how to build a raft out of bamboo and vine, when all of a sudden one of the kids from Madison’s group ran down yelling that Madison was getting jumped by a group of campers. Kennedy took off before the words were fully off of the girl’s tongue. She ran uphill, around the cluster of cabins to the arts and crafts area. Through the storm of dust that was being kicked up, she saw three girls surrounding