The rings in her eyes sparkle like emeralds. Sitting on the hood of my rusted truck, the sun is shining at just the right angle, and just the right voltage to make her young gems luminescent. I’m getting lost in their crevices as she talks on about needing new dancing shoes. Then she laughs, and my primal sense switches to hearing to bask in its glory. Each vibration is like a taste of lemonade on a hot summer day.
“Pete, is your brain melting from the heat?” Susie says, as I feel her hand shaking my shoulder softly. I wake out of her trance as her words reach my ears.
“Sorry Susie, I guess I was getting a bit lost in the moment.”
“Well it’s a good thing I found you then,” she replies with a kiss on the cheek. I want this day to last forever.

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I clench Carrie’s hand tightly, keeping watch on Madison twirling in front of us. Carrie tells me that it’s just another visitation, but we all know it’s not.
The nurse insists on us waiting for the doctor in the waiting room. I want to rip the nurse’s head off for telling me that.
“I’ve waited seven months!” I scream at her.
“I know, but the doctor needs to discuss what to expect with you.” The nurse replies, looking uncomfortable.
I nod, angry. Carrie takes my arm and sits me down in a hospital colored chair. Madison is jumping around in her tutu and tights, oblivious to what is going on. This makes me smile for a second, only a second though. The sand colored walls and the smell of cleaning products and pudding brings me back to reality.
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As Susie’s kiss lingers on my cheek, I hop in the back seat of my truck and grab a basket. She smiles at me, her dimples coming out from hiding.
“Peter James, this is only our second date and you are already pulling out surprises?”
“I’d conquer the world for you, Susie! I don’t need a hundred days with you to know that!”
That made her blush even more, and made me deserving of another kiss on the cheek. I grabbed two tuna sandwiches, green apples, and sugared peanuts; all of Susie’s favorites. She smiled so wide I thought her cheeks might rip! 
“You don’t have a hundred days Peter; you’re going off to Vietnam in two weeks.”
I watch her smile fade into sadness. I bring her chin up to look at me, and wipe a tear from her rosy cheeks.
“So marry me before I leave.”

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After what seems like days, Doctor Sanchez calls us back to the long-term ward. We walk back in silence, my breaths ring in my ears like sirens with each step.
“Your husband has been in a coma for a long time, Mrs. Baker. It’s difficult to know what to expect when a coma patient wakes up. He is very lucky that he did not lose his ability to speak, read, or walk. Many patients do. “
I look at Dr. Sanchez with a puzzled expression. 
“Then what did my husband lose, exactly?”
Dr. Sanchez shuffles his feet. “He is very confused. I think it is best for you to see for yourself. But please, try to not overwhelm him, only one of you visits at a time.”
I look at Carrie, who looks as concerned as I do.
“I’ll visit him first.” I say, as I walk into room 121, bracing myself for what heartbreak is waiting for me.

“Peter?” I say, walking into the room, sitting down in the too familiar chair on the left side of the bed.
He turns to face me. Tears immediately start streaming down my face as I see his watercolor eyes for the first time in seven months. He cocks his head, confused.
“Who are you?”
I jump slightly, startled at the words.
“I’m your wife, Susie. We’ve been married for forty-eight years.”
He jolts up in bed, backing away from me against the wall. The happiness I expected to see upon my arrival is replaced with terror.
“I’m not married! And you aren’t Susie!” he looks around quickly, and then screams “Nurse!”
I put my hand on his leg and softly rub it, trying to calm him.
“Peter, I am your Susie. Look at me, Love.”
He takes a good look at me, his chest heaving up and down then suddenly stops.  Scooting to the edge of the bed, he puts his palms to the side of my face, staring in my eyes.
“You stole her emeralds! You killed her and took them out!”
He begins weeping as the nurse comes running in, putting an arm around Peter. 
Hearing all the ruckus, Dr. Sanchez comes in. 
“Peter, what’s going on?” he says, sitting beside him on the bed.
“I was having a picnic with Susie, asking her to marry me before I go to war and now I’m here. And this lady killed Susie! This must be a nightmare.” He replies, putting his hands over his streaked cheeks.
“Peter, you are sixty-five years old, you had a heart attack that put you in a coma for seven months. That is your wife Susie, this isn’t a nightmare; it’s your life.”
Peter looks up at me. He looks so lost; like a child who has lost their parents in a grocery store.
“What year is it?” he asks me.
“It’s 2015.” I reply, with as much tenderness as I can muster.
His hands start shaking.
“I was just eating tuna sandwiches with Susie in 1967”, he says.
Carrie and Madison walk in, having heard the screams.
“I am Susie, Peter. This is our daughter Carrie, and her daughter Madison. You were only dreaming of our past these last seven months.”
He looks at Madison, then down at her pink ballet shoes, and all Peter can think about is buying Susie a pair just like them for her wedding gift.

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