Ivy Pt 02 (aka Jasmine)

This story is a continuation of Stangstar06's "Ivy"; I really liked the story but wanted to take a stab at a second chapter. I recommend you read his story before this one. While this could be a stand alone, it is probably important to understand the characters he created before jumping into this one. I did the best I could to research, as well as to stick to the true nature of the characters that were already created. I have no medical knowledge outside of Wiki but tried to make everything as accurate as I could. Hopefully I stuck true to the original story; I didn't try to change anything (well, only one or two things I did but not if I could help it). Unfortunately I tried to ask for permission to post but he hasn't returned any of my messages; if he contacts me and asks for it to be taken down I will gladly do so, but hope that doesn't happen. Still, I hope you enjoy...

PS This story underwent a few minor changes without changing much of the story at all; 1) The ending has slightly been changed due to previous complaints, and 2) It has been edited by Mikothebaby, with much thanks to her!

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Jasmine

There are times when you just want to turn back the clock. Or hit the reset button and do things over again, but maybe a little bit differently this time. Personally, I wouldn't have changed that much in my life. I really did enjoy the life that I had led on a day to day basis. But despite all of that, there were a few major events in my life that I would have changed in a heartbeat. Only a few events would be changed, but the kind of events that were significant enough to destroy a man's life.

And of these there was one event... or two, or three, depending on how you look at it, that I really would have changed. It would have been for the first true love of my life, Ivy, to never have cheated on me. I really think she did love me, deep down, but she just couldn't stay away from fucking other guys. Sometimes to this very day I will sit back and reflect on what could have been. Occasionally, I will sit down on a chair out on my deck, stare up into the sky, and wonder what my life would have been like -- and hers -- if she actually had an ounce of self control. It sounds pathetic, I know, but I really did love her.

Or there was Colleen. Colleen, my first wife, I still miss her terribly to this day. She may have been the first person in my life to truly understand me and to love me unconditionally. We really were the best of friends and the best of lovers. I just never had enough time with her; she was taken from me too soon. Colleen died of a stroke before we could start a family and have children together.

Then there was Jasmine.

A little girl who changed my life in so many ways, a little girl who became my best friend, a little girl who blossomed over the years and turned into a gorgeous woman that fell in love with me, even if I couldn't see it at first. Here was this amazing creature who loved me so much, but I misinterpreted her love for me as that of a daughter and not the love of a full grown adult woman (she wasn't my biological daughter but I loved her just as much as any father had loved his daughter, if not more). Jasmine was my life; she was everything that was amazing about this world. We had two children together, a twin boy and girl, and everything was looking up for the first time in my life. It would have been a perfect storybook ending. It should have been a perfect storybook ending.

But Jasmine was taken from me, suddenly and without warning. One day she went out in her red mustang to pick up diapers for our twins, and the next thing I know, two police officers are at the door telling me she's dead, that she was killed in a car accident. Well, technically, I don't remember the police officers coming to my house, since most of that time period was a blur but that's what I am told. I was a mess really. I am still a mess, ever since Jasmine passed away.

So here it is, almost two years later, and I'm getting a call from Jasmine's sister Rose, saying that she is alive. Rose is telling me that I do get a reset button on life, and that I do get to turn back the clock and have Jasmine back.

"I'm telling you, Jasmine is in the hospital. She was in a coma. I know you're having a hard time believing this... well, I have been too."

My anger was starting to get to me. "Rose, dammit, just stop right there. I don't want to hear any more about this. We both know she is gone."

Rose kept talking. "But she's NOT! Listen, just listen. I know you only remember that her red mustang was smashed when the semi ran the red stoplight; of course nothing else mattered to you at that point in time. Jazz was your wife after all. But there were other cars involved in the accident. The semi smashed up not just Jazz's mustang, but also a green focus and a red avenger."

"Rose," I tried to interrupt, frustrated. But she kept on talking -- even faster -- as if she wanted to get everything out since she knew I was going to explode.

"The lady in the red avenger looked like Jazz. Look, I don't understand it all either, but somehow there was a mix-up. I mean, she was the same age as Jazz, she had the same kind of hair, even her..."

"ROSE! We're done!"

I slammed the phone down. It was uncharacteristic of me to treat Rose like that. Well, anyone really, but especially Rose. She had done so much for me to get me through the last few years. She had been a shoulder to cry on. She would often come by to take care of the twins when I just wasn't feeling up to it, and she'd even help straighten up the house and occasionally cook dinner. She did all of this, while she was putting herself through nursing school. I loved Rose, but this time she had crossed the line.

I ran my fingers through my hair and went to the restroom to throw some cold water on my face. It was amazing how she had worked me up. I was glad she didn't call back, but Rose was a smart girl. She knew when I was pissed off that the best thing to do was give me space. "Jasmine still alive, what the fuck is she talking about." I kept mumbling to myself as if I had a small audience. I looked in the mirror above the washbowl at the old man or should I say the young man who felt twice his age.

As I splashed the water over my face, I noticed that my hands were shaking. I honestly didn't think I was that angry. "Why would she... no way. No way... talk about a lawsuit if that actually happened. How could a mix-up like that slide past so many people." I remembered trying to identify Jasmine as she lay on the cold mortuary table. There was so much of her they couldn't show me even though they had cleaned her up well.

"How could a mix-up like that slide past me, her husband of all people. No, it can't be true." But the more I tried to remember the past and everything that had happened, I felt myself making the mistake of letting a shred of hope and doubt enter my mind. I didn't want hope. I couldn't afford hope. In fact, the only times I ever had tried to hope in my life, it ended up letting me down.

The man in the mirror stared back at me, with anger in his eyes and tears streaming down his face. "Jasmine is dead, she's not coming back. SHE'S DEAD!" The mirror exploded into thousands of tiny glass fragments as blood ran down my fist.

*****

It was eerily quiet this particular night. I had already tucked in both Ivy and Ivan upstairs in their beds. They fell asleep earlier than normal. I was almost asleep on the downstairs couch when the phone rang again. A slight smile crept up on my face. I knew it was Rose. I figured she thought she had given me enough time to settle down before calling me again. She was probably right, she often was.

I had just gotten up off the couch and grabbed the phone by the fourth ring. Sure enough, the caller ID told me it was Rose.

I didn't even start off with a hello. "I'm sorry, Rose. I..."

"Don't be, it's ok," she said in a gentle voice. "I should have stopped by to tell you in person. I haven't even told Mom or Michael yet. I thought you should be the first. I know how special Jazzi was to you, and you've been through more than just about anyone."

"Rose." I didn't know what to say.

Rose changed gears in the conversation. "I'm at the hospital right now. I've been talking to the family of Katrina for the last few months. She's the one that was in the red avenger that I told you about. Dad, I've seen pictures of her and she does look like Jasmine. She looks more like Jasmine's sister than even I do."

I smiled a little. One of my favorite pictures ever was with Jasmine, Michael, and Rose standing together in our backyard. Jasmine and Rose looked so much alike in that particular picture. I wasn't sure that I believed her but I was already out of tears and the old wounds had been torn open. So it was of no use to try to seal them back again this quickly. "You know, Rose," I thought for a few moments before carrying on. "I loved Jasmine like you wouldn't believe. And after Ivy and Colleen and well," I wanted to choose my words carefully. "Rose, I love you, but you better be right about this. If you're wrong, I just don't know if I can take something like this."

"Dad," she said. "I wouldn't have called you if I didn't believe it myself. You know I work at Memorial, the same hospital that Jasmine is in right now, the one they thought Katrina was in. Katrina's family has been by her side the whole time, thinking it was her. I would visit with them periodically and see how Katrina was doing. She has a father, mother, and a sister. They are really nice people. Over the last several months, she's been coming out of the coma but she has a long way to go to regain a lot of her cognitive function and dealing with the environment around her. There is some brain damage, but she's getting better and better every day now that she's awake."

I continued to listen intently.

"So, anyway, Ken, Mary, and her sister Breanne have been doing therapy with her. Gradually they've noticed a few things that didn't make sense. Her eyes looked slightly different. They were the same color but darker than they remembered. Katrina had a scar on her back from a boating accident when she was in high school, but Breanne noticed it wasn't there. She..."

"Rose," I interrupted. "That doesn't mean anything. That's not exactly solid evidence."

"Yea, but Dad, here's the kicker. During her therapy one day, Breanne asked if she knew who her sister was. Dad, she said my name. She said her sister's name was 'Rose' not 'Breanne'. I am telling you, Jasmine is in the hospital!"

My heart had just about stopped. As my grip weakened, the phone almost slipped from my grasp and I had to catch it.

"I...I'll be right there."

*****

I wasn't completely sold on the fact that Jasmine was in the hospital, but the shred of hope that wormed its way into my brain had now grown so much larger. Part of me didn't want to believe that Jasmine was alive. I loved her to death, but I was finally starting to accept that she was gone. I guess it felt safer putting everything behind me. I would give anything to be with Jasmine again, absolutely anything. But if Rose was wrong, then the greater amount of hope that I had in me would become an even greater amount of suffering in the end.

I called Ivy and Ivan's great grandmother over to watch the two. I didn't explain why, but I knew she could tell I was agitated and in a rush. Always the understanding one and quick to do anything for family, she came over in the dead of night without so much as asking me a single question. I admired her for that. With a quick peck on her cheek, I was out the door, in the Mustang, and roaring down the road and to the hospital.

Rose met me just outside of Jasmine's room and greeted me with a long embrace. I hugged her back tightly. Over her shoulder I saw three people -- a man and two women -- sitting down with their arms draped across each other while watching me hug Rose. They weren't crying, but they looked very forlorn. I couldn't help but think it was Katrina's family. All I could think to myself was, if that really was Jasmine in there, and she really was brought back to me, then that meant that another life was taken away just as quickly. For Jasmine to be raised from the dead, that meant that Katrina had to die. I closed my eyes and couldn't look at Katrina's family. My stomach turned as I thought about the pain and confusion they must be going through, the same pain and confusion that I had been exposed to the last two years. That was a horrible feeling that I wouldn't wish on my worst enemy.

"She's awake, Dad, but she still isn't all there. The doctors say she needs a lot more therapy. She remembers all of us, but Jazz has lost a lot of her memory. We're slowly trying to figure out just how much but again, it's going to be a long process."

"Thank you, Rose." I still held Rose, but I turned my head to peer in the room, hoping to catch a glimpse of her.

"You can go in, Dad. She's been sleeping most of the time and is sleeping right now, but she knows you are coming. You can wait until she wakes up if you like. I know she'd want you to be there when she wakes."

I kissed Rose on the cheek, squeezed her hand, took a deep breath and went in the room.

My knees actually felt weak; my legs tingled as I walked. It took everything I had to keep myself upright. It reminded me of the time I walked in the mortuary to identify Jasmine the first time. Ironically, this time it felt like the complete polar opposite, I was walking into a room to identify Jasmine, but to identify that she was alive.

A young woman lay in the hospital bed. At first it was hard to get a look at her face because of all the machines surrounding her and cords and tubes attached to her body. I slowly moved next to her, taking in every feature of her that I could. I noticed a few scars on her face, up by her forehead and ear, but they had actually healed up nicely. It had been two years since this person had been in the hospital after all. Her skin, her cute little nose, her eyelashes, the shape of her face, everything about her seemed to scream it. It was Jasmine.

*****

I don't exactly remember what I dreamed before I woke up, but I do know that Jasmine was in it. I can't remember if she was dead or alive or some kind of apparition in it, but I remember a feeling of joy mixed with sorrow. It was like Jasmine came back to see me, one last time, only to tell me to let her go. It was like a dream of closure, even though I didn't want closure. The only thing I really remember was that she touched my hand. The touch from her hand felt so, so real, so amazing.

At this point in my dream, I realized that it wasn't real and that I would be waking up soon. So I clung to her hand tightly, telling her that I wouldn't let her go. I refused to let her go. I wanted to remember the feeling of holding her hand as she held mine. I swore I would never even wash that hand again as long as it had her natural scent on it.

I woke up, but it still felt like I was holding her hand. It felt more real. In fact, as I moved my head upwards and off the hospital bed to stretch my cramped neck, I realized that I was holding Jasmine's hand. I guess I fell asleep sitting next to her bed. I'm not sure how long I was out but the sun had already came up. Rose must have pulled a few strings with the hospital staff to have allowed me to stay here overnight.

"Good morning, sleepy head," a tired voice told me. Jasmine smiled at me weakly, stroking the back of my hand.

At that very moment, I wanted to jump on the bed and kiss her and squeeze her and hold her for the rest of my natural life. Joy overwhelmed me like I had never experienced before. I could feel a few tears start to roll out of my eyes. But instead, I froze like a deer in the headlights.

"G..good morning, Jazz."

Really? 'Good morning Jazz' was the best I could get out? I tried to shake the cobwebs out of my head.

"Jasmine, I can't believe this, you're alive!" She smiled back at me.

My joy suddenly turned into sorrow. All I could think about was how I had abandoned her for the last two years. Here she was, battered and injured and on death's doorstep and I was nowhere to be found. She had to get better alone, without her family. I melted down and couldn't stop sobbing. The look on her face turned from a weak smile to sadness. Jasmine held out her arms and I fell forward to her gently, holding her and sobbing like a baby. "I'm sorry, I'm so sorry... I...I didn't know... I...."

I could hear her sniffling a little. "Don't cry, please. Don't be sorry, you didn't do anything wrong."

Here she was, comforting me, when it should have been the other way around. I tried as hard as I could to hold it together. Wiping the tears away from my eyes, I wanted to look at her again. "Jazz, I'm so sorry I wasn't here for you. They told me you had died. I remember watching on television, the red mustang, the crash. I remember..."

"It's ok, really. I don't remember any of that, and I was in a coma most of the time anyway. So they tell me." She gave me a weak squeeze on my hand and closed her eyes. "I'm just glad you're here now, that's all that matters."

"Well, I can tell you honey, I'll never leave your side again." I smiled at her knowing that I meant every word. I still couldn't believe my Jasmine was back."

We didn't talk much, but simply enjoyed each other's presence. I never did let go of her hand. There was so much I wanted to tell her over the last few years, but I couldn't think of a single thing to say. In fact, when there was talking, most of the time it was her. I would just listen. It wasn't that I didn't have anything to say, I just didn't want to take my focus off of her.

When we did talk, most of the time it was her initiating the conversation. She wasn't her same fiery self, of course, which didn't surprise me. I was willing to bet that would come back with time and healing. When she spoke, it really wasn't about family or the kids or anything like that. Not about her mom, or her brothers and sisters, or even our twins. She'd ask about simple day-to-day things like how my job was lately, or if I still drove my GT Mustang. I guessed that it was easier for her to think of normal mundane things instead of delving into family life.

We sat there for hours and hours. Even though we were in the hospital, I didn't mind. It was just amazing having my Jasmine back again, to be able to simply hold her, after years of not being able to touch her, to be able to stare at her, when I had only been able to look at pictures of the past. Maybe that was why I didn't talk very much. I was still getting used to everything. Yesterday, Jasmine was dead. Today she was alive. It was impossible to wrap my mind around that. There was so much to take in.

Finally, the nurse came in, and told us it was time for Jazz to do some therapy, and that I had to leave. Today was a big day for her. They were going to try to work on her legs for the first time. Not even walking yet, just simply standing up.

I didn't want to go, of course; I could have stayed in that room with her forever. I leaned forward to kiss her forehead. "Alright, honey, I'm going to let you go now." I could almost see a whimper come across her face. "Don't worry; I'll be back later tonight. You'll be ok, baby."

Jasmines face lit up. "Promise me," she said with a raised eyebrow.

I laughed, "I promise."

Another nurse came in the room. The two of them helped Jazz into a wheel chair. "I'll tell Ivy and Ivan you said hi," I told her. She turned and looked at me somewhat quizzically. She said, somewhat irritated, "Ivan, huh? So I guess Ivy finally has a steady boyfriend or is he just the flavor of the day? Never mind, don't answer that. She makes my stomach turn just thinking about it."