Life, Love & A Little Coffee

Chapter Fifty: Liquid Lucidity

Tom double-checked the small metal numbers beside the door and compared them to the number on the small envelope before taking one of two plastic keys out and sliding it into the lock above the door handle. He did so again, then once more, before the light blinked green and he could turn the handle and open the door.

Much to the dismay of his wallet, Tom had opted for a suite, with two private bedrooms on either side of the large living room. His and Ada's door, he agreed, would remain open at all times, not that he planned on bedding her while sharing a hotel room with her parents, nor was there any romantic ambiance during this part of the trip that would lead there.

The room had more color than the one he'd just spent half the day in, which was a relief to his headache that had been growing throughout the long hours. No more florescent lighting or commotions or having to watch doctors whiz by in a frenzy, gut-sinking wondering if their destination would lead them back to the waiting room, a look of sorrow on their faces which had been mastered throughout the years.

Tom could hear voices coming from the hallway, but was still able to experience some small measure of peace. There was a hint of cigarette smoke odor in the room. Despite it being a year since the state had banned smoking in public buildings and despite him having gone five years without having one, minus the day before he'd run into Ada outside the coffee shop, it made him crave one.

Tom had never been a regular smoker. He had them only a few times a year in his twenties and snuck one during his more crappy days. He'd smoked more during his 'musician' years, but those were long behind him.

"I'm going to go take a nap," Ada mumbled as she ran her fingers through her short, tangled blonde hair. "Don't let me sleep too long, okay? I don't wanna fall asleep during the ceremony tomorrow."

Tom nodded and pressed his lips against her soft forehead, not daring to allow his lips to go further down.

Despite the open door policy Jeff had demanded, Ada closed the door to the bedroom behind her, as if any sound at all would blare her ears.

"How's she doing?" Rebecca asked.

When Tom turned his attention away from the closed door to look at Rebecca, like her husband when they saw him by the elevator, she looked so much smaller and fragile. She appeared nothing like the no-nonsense (sometimes complete nonsense), tough as nails woman he knew over the last month.

Even though the day had aged them all, the more he looked at her, the more she reminded him of a scared, innocent child, being thrust into a world filled with unimaginable pain after living a quiet life filled with beauty and peace.

Though Ada only slightly resembled her parents physically, he noticed she was so much like her mother in this regard. He knew Ada always felt like the outsider of her family, but the more he paid attention to her mother, the more he saw how similar these two women were.

"Tom?"

Tom shook his head, thrusting himself out of his busy thoughts. "I don't think I've heard her say over ten sentences since I told her. I don't want to push her to talk until I think she's ready. Right now I say we just let her be."

Rebecca crossed her arms against her chest, lifted her head toward the ceiling and let out a sigh. "She looks so broken and lost right now."

Broken.

Tom compared Ada's mood and appearance to all the other times he'd seen her face things, of which there were many, though only one truly life changing. That was the one this reminded him the most of, telling Tom that Ada had only partially allowed this to sink in.