"I'll put it quite simple, Mr. Lowman," Dr. Newman began as he readjusted his glasses and reorganized his notes. He was trying to find a way to tell the news to the man sitting beside him, but he didn't know how the man would take it. "Cordelia's mind is getting stronger every day. There has been a tremendous amount of improvement in the last month and," he paused to take a deep breath, "I believe she will be ready to leave this facility in less than a month."
The man beside the good doctor leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. He looked at the doctor and studied his face. Over the countless times he had visited in the last five years, he never though he'd hear those words. He watched as the man in front of his pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose as he questioned him. "What do you mean her mind's stronger? She still doesn't know who I am. Whenever I see her, she's just sitting there, drawing pictures or something. It's like she's all holed up in that mind of hers" Happy Lowman stated. He didn't believe what the doctor was telling him. He had just come to see Cordelia at the hospital an hour ago and all he saw was Cordelia drawing some damn picture in that same damn red chair she always sat in when Dr. Newman pulled him aside.
"What I mean, Mr. Lowman, is that your wife is starting to remember. She can recall the nurses' names and she's finally able to write again. Her speech is improving every day. Quite frankly, Mr. Lowman, I've never seen so much improvement in such a little time. It's nothing short of a miracle," Dr. Newman beamed at the dark-eyed man sitting beside him. "I believe it's time for her to go home. We've done most of what we can do for her in the past five years, but I know she will continue improving when she comes home with you – I just know it! Of course, I'll need her to continue an out-patient therapy program – to monitor her progress – but I can release her into your care by the end of the month."
Happy Lowman took a deep breath in and raked his hand over his freshly shaven head. He stared at Dr. Newman for a while, thinking about what to do. Cordelia Lowman had been a patient at a rehabilitative care centre linked with the Bakersfield Memorial Hospital for just over five years and never did he think it would take this long to hear those words – his wife was ready to come home. He just didn't know if he was ready. It wasn't an easy time for her to come home with him. He had transferred from the Tacoma charter of the Sons of Anarchy into the Nomad charter not too long ago and there was no way he could bring his wife with him on the road. He thought about his mother, who too was sick, and he knew there was no way he could ask her or his aunt, Juanita, to take care of Cordelia. He didn't know how much work it'd be, but he just couldn't do that to those two old women.
Happy sighed. He was torn. This was what he had wanted for the last five years of his life – for his wife to be well enough to come home. But Cordelia wasn't exactly ready to come home. Like the doctor said, she was going to improve at home and that meant Hap had to be at home. "What are the other options, doc?" Happy asked, not looking the doctor in the eyes.
"Other options?" Dr. Newman asked, confused. "What do you mean, Mr. Lowman?"
"What I mean is…what else can I do with her? I don't know how to care for her, man. I can't care for her. It's just…it'll be too hard."
"Hard for her…or for you? I don't believe for a second it will be easy, Mr. Lowman, but it's what's best for her. This will complete her recovery. You do understand that, right? She is almost there."
"No, I get that," Happy bit out. "I just…I just don't know. It's been five years. What if…what if she's not the same?" What if I'm not the same? "I don't live in Tacoma anymore. There will be no home for her to come to. She won't recognize anything or anyone – how can that possibly help her?"
"Well, her surroundings will definitely be different, but she'll have you. Share your memories, tell her stories, just talk to her – she will get better."
Happy listened to the doctor's words as he looked over to Cordelia, still sitting in that red chair, still working on that drawing. He watched as she picked up her pencil and began shading a part of the piece. He could see her as she decided on what to accomplish next. Happy watched her bite her lip as she moved to a different part of the page as he thought about what to do. He opened his mouth to tell the doctor that no, he possibly couldn't take her home with him yet when she placed the pencil down and glanced over at him, smiling.
Oh, fuck. It was that damn smile. The one where her eyes lit up and made her look aglow. The one where her happiness displayed prominently on her face. The one where she looked fucking gorgeous. Happy stared at Cordelia as she pushed her hair behind her ears and out of her eyes. Nowadays her strawberry blond hair was well past the shoulder length she kept it at during their life together, but it still had that similar wave to it. The word 'no' was on the tip of Happy's tongue when Cordelia got up from the red chair and walked across the room to him and Dr. Newman.
"Hello, Happy," Cordelia bit her lip as she glanced over at Happy before looking at the ground. "Uhm…I …uh, completed the picture, Dr. Newman," Cordelia breathed out. "I'd like to show you…both if you'd like," she smiled, shyly this time at Happy.
"I think we'd very much like that – wouldn't you agree Mr. Lowman?"
Happy looked over to Dr. Newman, hating that his wife acted so shyly around him ever since the accident that damaged her. Her long-term memory had been effected and it had taken them a while to finally convince her that Happy was, indeed, her husband. She still acted cautiously around him, carefully choosing her words and behaving modestly around him. His dark eyes and tattooed body still made her wary of him, but she had definitely warmed up to him over the last five years. Sure, Cordelia didn't know what their relationship was like before her accident, but she couldn't imagine not seeing Happy every weekend – it was a routine that she looked forward to on Sundays. After Marina and Juanita's visits on Saturdays, she looked forward to Happy's visits the most. Some weeks they talked and others they didn't. He occasionally helped her with puzzles, but most of the time he sat and watched her while she drew.
Happy looked away from Dr. Newman and over to Cordelia. She, once again, dropped her eyes from his, looking down to the ground. "Yeah, sure. Let's go look at this picture."
Happy stood from his seat and walked over to the red chair with his wife and Dr. Newman trailing behind him, but he wasn't prepared for what he saw. As he glanced down at the table, Happy's heart pounded in his chest. He stared down at the paper as Cordelia began to speak.
"It's something I thought of," she spoke quietly to the two men. "I don't remember where I've seen it, but, I uh –"
"It's one of my tattoos," Happy spoke, "on my back," he said as he looked over her head to Dr. Newman.
"Cordelia, that's a fantastic drawing, dear! Did you remember the tattoo?"
Cordelia looked between the two men, eyes wide. "Oh, I had no idea. It just came to me…when I saw Happy come in today."
Happy looked down at the paper again, staring at the drawing of the tattoo. This was the puzzle piece on his back. Inside his puzzle piece was an anchor – because that's what she was to him – his anchor. She grounded him when he came home from runs and she was the one he always returned to, anchoring him anywhere she was. She had a matching one, too, on her back and inside her puzzle piece was a boat. Together, the puzzle pieces represented two things that needed each other. The boat, without the anchor would be lost at sea, while the anchor, without the boat, would be pointless. Happy and Cordelia had inked these tattoos on one another the day before they got married as their gifts to one another. Right then, Happy looked over at Dr. Newman and he knew what he was going to do.
"Hey, Del…Delia, babe, look at me."
Cordelia raised her eyes to look at Happy.
"Delia, how'd you like to leave?"
"Leave?" Cordelia gasped. She couldn't imagine not being here, in her safe little space. "I, I, I just can't leave," she stumbled over her words, "I have group art time to attend, and I, uhm, I haven't finished nearly enough puzzles, yet, and –" she continued on without pausing to take a breath. Happy watched his flustered wife count off reasons on her hand as Dr. Newman raised his eyebrows at Happy.
"Cordelia, dear," Dr. Newman placed a comforting hand on her shoulder, "you don't have to if you don't want to, but you'd be going home with your husband. You'd be living together, dear. You can continue in the out-patient program, but I believe your memories are almost there, sweetheart." Dr. Newman smiled at his patient. "You've made a tremendous amount of progress in the last five years. We've helped you regain all your motor skills, your speech, your mannerisms, but I believe, dear, that going home would only help you further. Happy knows you, Cordelia. He can help you gain your memories. He can help you on the outside dear. There would be no benefit to staying here for you. Do you understand?"
Cordelia looked at Dr. Newman, wide-eyed and terrified. "I do, but what if…I mean, what if I'm too different," she whispered out the last part, glancing over at Happy.
"Then we'll relearn each other," Happy explained. "I'll help you remember. I'll take care your of you. I'll be your…friend." Happy grimaced at that word. He definitely wanted to be more than friends with his own damn wife.
"What about Marina and Juanita? Can I still see them?"
Happy let out a small laugh. "Yeah, doll, you can see my mother and my aunt. They don't live too far from here."
"Okay, good…You're sure you can help me remember? You won't give up, will you?"
"No, Del. I'll help you remember," Happy promised.
Dr. Newman smiled at the pair. "Excellent! I'll finalize the paperwork, and you can leave on Wednesday, dear. Congratulations." Dr. Newman beamed at Cordelia and shook Happy's hand. "Mr. Lowman, I'll get hold of you once the paperwork is final, and you should be free to take your wife home with you by the weekend," he beamed at the couple before leaving them to speak with a nurse not too far away.
"I guess it's up to us now, huh?" Cordelia wrung her hands as she stood alone with her husband.
"Yeah, Del. It's up to us to help you remember our life," Happy spoke. Even if all I wanna do is forget it.