I was lying in bed, as usual, when Dr. Cullen knocked on the open door and entered my hospital room. He wasn't my usual doctor, but he had come in to talk to me a few times. I smiled at the (impossibly) handsome doctor, until I noticed his expression. He hadn't spoken a single word, but I knew what he had come to tell me.
"Please, Dr. Cullen, don't say it. I already know and hearing it will only make it worse." My voice was surprisingly steady as I spoke. I wiped away a single tear before it could fall down my cheek and kept my chin up. I was dying. I couldn't say that is was a surprise. I had been sick and in hospitals so much that I always knew that my time spent living wouldn't be long. There was no cure for cancer, and my heart problems were what they were. I was sitting alone in a hospital room, dying. I was sixteen, with no family, and I was dying. I couldn't help but to laugh. It was too funny, too ironic. Dr. Cullen stood there, looking as close to perfect as a human could get, unsure of what to do. So I kept laughing. I didn't know him well, but I knew he was rich. I knew he loved his job. I knew he had a big family he loved more than anything. I knew he was gorgeous. I knew he had everything I didn't. I laughed so hard my stomach and throat hurt. When I finally began to calm down he sat down in the chair by my bed the people from the state often sat in when they visited me or a nurse who would look at me with pity. "I am sorry Dr. Cullen. Go ahead and do your job. Give me my expiration date, tell me about resting peacefully or heaven or whatever you believe in, and tell me how I should spend my last bit of time alive." He nodded solemnly.
"Well you know the cancer has spread and…" I interrupted him.
"Excuse me Dr. Cullen, but I already know I am dying and there is no stopping it. So if you would skip over the details of how and just give me my sentence, I would appreciate it." He smiled at me, but I could not tell if he was amused by my indifference or if he pitied me inside.
"As you wish. I cannot give you an expiration date, but if I had to estimate I'd say you have about three weeks. I do believe in miracles, I have seen them happen with patients in far worse condition than you. Also, I am supposed to give you this." He handed over a few sheets of paper. "It is an application to the Make a Wish Foundation. Do you know about them?" He asked. I had to fight the urge to roll my eyes.
"Yes, they grant the dying wish of sad children. You want to know what I wish for Dr. Cullen?" I asked him.
"I must say I do not know, but I can imagine." I pursed my lips and nodded.
"I wish that I could spend one day being a part of a family. A mother and a father. Maybe even some siblings or pets. I don't care about the details. For one day I want to be loved. Even if I know it is all pretend and short-lived." I couldn't help but to chuckle a bit. Short-lived. My life was going to be short-lived. I took a deep cleansing breath to calm myself and clear my head. "I am sorry I am putting all of this on you. You are not even my Doctor. I bet you are just the doctor who was on call when my blood work was done. Sorry you had to be the bearer of bad news. Tell your kids I said 'good-bye' when you go home, please." He seemed surprised.
"Do you know any of my children?" He asked.
"Not personally, but I saw them at school the couple of weeks I was able to go before I got sick again. I have pretty much been in this hospital since the first month of my sophomore year, but I had a class with Rosalie and Jasper and once sat next to Alice and Edward at a school assembly. I saw Emmett in the halls. None of them probably even know my name or will remember me. I didn't have any friends when I moved here, and I obviously don't have family around. I just… I want to say goodbye to somebody. So would you please pass on my message? They seemed like decent kids." I paused for a moment. "Tell your wife I said 'We will meet someday, in the beyond that comes after life'." I laughed and so did he. "I want people say goodbye to. My parents gave me up as soon as I was born. I lived in multiple foster homes and group homes, but never made any friends. No one is going to remember me ten years from now. I know and accept that the same way I have already accepted my death."
"I will relay your messages, I promise. But do I get one as well?"
"Oh! I can't leave you out, oh doctor I have met maybe three times! What a vital role in my life you have played! I can't imagine not seeing you anymore. So my message to you is simple: though I know it will be terribly difficult, try to go on without me." I was dying. There was nothing I could do to stop it, so why should I let it bring me down? I was honestly not feeling too bad; I guess I had it better than most dying people. Other than the baldness, always chapped lips, the throwing up, and the aches and pains, I normally didn't feel that awful. I took another deep breath, pushing back my emotions and thoughts of dying.
"It won't be easy, but I will do my best. Honestly though, Miss Jones, you should not give up on hope." He took my hand in his cold one and squeezed it once before letting it go. I was used to the cold hands of doctors, so his icy touch was nothing unusual.
"One, the name my first set of foster parents gave me is Iona, you can call me that. It is what everyone else does. Second, I try to keep low expectations. That way I can't be disappointed. I never expected to have a family, and once I got sick I never expected to get better. I am glad that I don't have to deal with the disappointment of dying alone now… Don't look at me like that. I don't want you to pity me. Nobody adopts kids that are just going to die. I was born with my heart issues and I have known I have cancer since I was ten. But I am here for right now, so don't look at me like that. You could get hit by a bus on the way home." I stuck my tongue out at him. He really did seem too young to be a doctor, but too old to be so good at his job. I was just glad he didn't bring a grief counselor with him.
"Alright Iona, I must be on my way. I have other patients to attend to. I will assume you do not want a grief counselor to counselor to come in here?" I shook my head violently at the suggestion. "If you need anything, at anytime, just tell one of the nurses. Whether I am on-call or not, whether it is a doctor you need or just someone to talk to, do not hesitate to have someone call me." With that being said he left me alone. I couldn't help but wonder if he was so kind to all of his patients. Maybe just the ones he felt the most sorry for. I hoped he would actually mention me to his family. Just so some people will realize my existence. I grabbed the remote control and flipped the cannels until I found a rerun of What a Wonderful Life. I thought it was strange that they were playing it in the summer, but watched it anyways. After a while food was brought in and I forced myself to eat the disgusting hospital food. Of course ten minutes later I threw it up. When I was done gagging and coughing and throwing up, I somehow managed to brush my teeth and make it back to my bed. It had grown indescribably more comfortable since twenty minutes ago. I tried to sleep but the room was spinning too fast. Soon after the vomiting party my body decided to give me, a (mean) nurse came in and gave me pain medication and medication for my nausea. I was out like a light within a few minutes, thankfully.
I was sitting in a small church of some sort, alone. There was only a man in some kind of robes with is head bowed in prayer over a casket, but I could not hear anything. The silence was eerie. I slowly got up from my seat on the pew and walked over to the casket. The man didn't even notice my presence. I peered into the casket and screamed. I was in the casket. I couldn't hear my screams, which scared me and caused me to scream louder. Still nothing. I looked around the room frantically, but other than the priest, it was empty.
Something cold was on my arm, shaking me.
"Iona, wake up! It is just a dream!" A high pitched voice ordered. My eyes flew open and I took in my surroundings. A hospital room, not a church. The erratic beeping of my heart monitor told me I needed to calm down. I took a deep breath, as I always did, and pushed all the negative emotions and thoughts away. Once the beeping was steadier I looked at the person who had awoken me. I recognized her instantly but was confused to see Alice Cullen standing in my hospital room. Next to her was an equally beautiful, but slightly older woman I could only assume to be Dr. Cullen's wife.
"Um hello. Please excuse me but why are you in my room?" I asked them. I glanced at the clock to see it was only seven in the morning.
"My name is Esme Cullen; my husband is one of your doctors. He told me when he came home from work last night that Iona Jones said to tell me 'that we will meet someday, in the beyond that comes after life'. I was immediately perplexed and told him I did not know who he was talking about. He went on to tell me that a girl in the hospital wanted someone to say goodbye to, and then relayed your goodbye to our children." I slowly nodded.
"I am sorry, but I still do not understand. Why are you here?" I questioned them. Alice spoke this time.
"Carlisle is not allowed to talk about patients due to confidentiality and what-not, but he said he felt it was alright to tell us that you were dying and you had no family. Esme wanted to come and meet you last night, but we didn't want to wake you up. So, we decided to come before I have to go to school this morning. And of course I remember you. You gave up your seat so I could sit next to Edward at the school assembly last year, and offered me your jacket even though your teeth were chattering in the cold old gym. Carlisle wanted to tell us about your wish, but said we should ask you about it because he did not know if you would be okay with sharing it. He said we could help you somehow. So will you tell us?" The tiny girl spoke so quickly I could barely keep up with her. Her mother, who she apparently called by name, placed a hand on her shoulder and smiled gently at me. No pity was in their eyes, which I liked. I was still embarrassed that they would come to see me. They probably felt guilty.
"I need to use the bathroom, but after that we can talk." I informed them. I pushed aside the rough hospital blankets and slowly got out of bed, careful of the tubes and wires attached to me. Mrs. Cullen offered me her hand, but I stubbornly refused. I was dying, not disabled. Using the pole my IV was hanging from to steady myself I went into the bathroom and closed the door behind me.
After using the bathroom and washing my hands I leaned against the wall. I had visitors, actual visitors. People who had cared enough to come and see me. They thought they could help me with my wish. I was not thinking clearly when I spoke to Dr. Cullen. Obviously I had given him the wrong impression. He was young and probably hadn't dealt with many dying hormonal teenage girls. I should have kept my big mouth shut. Of course I wanted a family, but I wanted a lot of things. I wanted to live. I wanted to be in love. I wanted to be kissed. I wanted to drive a car. I wanted to see the ocean. I wanted to be able to eat a decent meal and then not throw it up. I wanted to die of old age. There was no use in making wishes. Wishing and hoping only lead to disappointment. For probably the millionth time in my life I took a deep breath and shoved all the negatives deep down inside of me somewhere impossible to find. It was what one overly observant doctor called my "unhealthy coping mechanism". I opened the door and slowly got back in my bed. I didn't really care that two (almost) strangers just saw my underwear or that I was not wearing a bra. I didn't like hospital gowns anymore than the next girl, but I got sick often and it was too difficult to change in and out of clothes. Hospital gowns were much simpler.
"Do you need anything?" Mrs. Cullen asked sweetly. There were so many answers I could give her. So many rude remarks I could make, but I chose not to.
"No." I answered simply instead and plastered a fake smile on my face. "It is nice to meet you. I know little about you, only that you are Dr. Cullen's wife and the mother of Emmett, Rosalie, Jasper, Alice, and Edward." This was a small lie. I knew that every female nurse despised her existence, but my social skills were lacking and I was unsure if that was the kind of thing one should or shouldn't joke about. I was weighing the options of bringing it up when a nurse walked in. She gave me more medication with a scowl on her face. Her long red hair was pulled back in a ponytail, but was still very pretty. She was a nice looking girl, but I knew that she had attempted to flirt with Dr. Cullen and failed. My room was right by the nurses' station so I got to hear all the hospital gossip and drama. It was better than a soap opera. She turned to look at Mrs. Cullen.
"Visiting hours start at nine." She said harshly.
"My wonderful husband, Dr. Cullen, gave me permission to come here with my children whenever Iona wanted me to be here. So, until she tells me to leave, I will be here." I laughed at the expression on the nurse's face. She was so frustrated and couldn't do a thing about it. My laughter wasn't helping but I honestly didn't care. She stomped out of the room and I continued laughing. Alice giggled too.
"I would recommend kissing Dr. Cullen in front of the nurses' station or something, because they are all convinced that your marriage is extremely unhappy and that is why Dr. Cullen works so many hours. The way he constantly rejects them, telling them he has a lovely wife waiting at home for him, proves to me that he just is dedicated to his job and his family. But that is just my opinion. I don't know what goes on behind closed doors." I felt like I was digging a hole deeper and deeper with no way out. Me and my stupid big mouth. "I mean, I am sure that you are happily married… unless you are not then I am sorry. I just wanted to try and help you. Maybe you are okay with the nurses… I-I mean that…" Me and my terrible social skills. This is the result of spending most of your time in a hospital bed with no one to talk to but yourself. Thank goodness Mrs. Cullen noticed my struggle to try and fix whatever I had said.
"Maybe I will take your advice and show them I am happily married. You would think the fact that we have adopted five children would convince them wouldn't you?" She smiled and I felt the blush in my cheeks slowly disappearing.
"You would think so." I barely finished my sentence before Alice nearly shouted.
"What is your wish?" She asked bouncing up and down. I thought about how I should answer her question.
"I was really just rambling yesterday. I didn't think Dr. Cullen would take it seriously. I tend to put my foot in my mouth often. I was just a bit… overwhelmed and emotional and the teenage girl hormones kicked in and I just couldn't stop talking. What I really wish is that I had kept my mouth shut." Alice did not look convinced.
"You can tell us what it is! We are great at keeping secrets. And whatever it is, Carlisle is convinced that we can help you, if you let us." I squeezed my eyes shut. Deep breath.
"I basically told him that I wanted to have a family for one day. People who loved me and who I loved and blah blah blah. I was just upset about the whole expiration date thing. I always knew I was going to die young, but getting an expiration date was still… a big deal. I am okay now though." I looked up from my lap to meet their eyes. There it was- pity. I tried to hide my anger. I had asked for this, so I would have to deal with it. "Mrs. Cullen, Alice, I was not asking anything from Dr. Cullen. If it sounded that way I owe him an apology." I tried to make up for the misunderstanding. There was an indescribable expression on Alice's face. Her eyes seemed blank but her lips were curved into a smile. She looked a little crazy. I fought the urge to wave my hand on front of her eyes or poke her.
"Please, call me Esme. You do not owe Carlisle and apology at all. He knew that you were not asking anything of us. That does not mean that we do not want to make your wish come true though." I sighed and shook my head.
"Even if by some miracle you found a family that was willing to pretend to love me for a day, I can't leave the hospital. I am a ward of the state, so they dictate where I can and can't go. Plus the fact that I am hooked up to so many tubes and wires." I told her honestly. "I have survived the previous sixteen years without a family. I will make it through the next three weeks." I thought of my nightmare. A funeral with no one in attendance. Not even my birth family. Would anyone inform them of my death? I knew of most of my mother's, Sarah Jones', family tree. She had a brother and a sister. I was unsure if they had any children but I knew that my grandfather, Henry, was still alive. I didn't know if anyone was aware of my existence. None of my family had ever made contact with me. After a deep breath I focused on the two women in front of me.
"Your doctor could give you permission to come home with us! Carlisle could take a day off so he would always be nearby if anything bad were to happen. But I have a feeling that things will go smoothly, happily even!" Alice was enthusiastic but I was pessimistic.
"Dr. Cullen is not my doctor. Dr. White is. And Dr. White won't even let me leave this room, let alone go home with Dr. Cullen." I told them.
"If you ask for Carlisle to be your doctor he can be! They can't say no because you are not related to him and you do not know him or any of us really. Plus Carlisle has some favors he could call in. His boss owes him big for something, so I am sure that we can work this out." Alice was bouncing up and down in her seat with excitement.
"If you want to do this, she means. We would never try to force you to do anything you feel uncomfortable with." Esme reassured me. I thought through it.
"So what you are saying is that you would take me to your home, pretend I have lived there my whole life, pretend that you love me, and then bring me back to the hospital in time for me to get my nightly meds and got to sleep?" I decided not to beat around the bush.
"If that is what you want, then yes." Esme answered before Alice could.
"I don't want to make things difficult for you. I mean, you don't even know me. Why are you doing this?" I asked her.
"We are doing this because you are good girl and you deserve it." If anyone else had said it I wouldn't have believed them, but something in Esme's amazing honey colored eyes screamed that she could not tell a lie. She was an honest person, and could not tell a lie like that. A smile slowly splayed across my face.
"I would like very much to be a part of your family." I said in almost a whisper. She took my hand in hers and squeezed it. I could tell I was running a fever because both her and Alice's hands felt like ice on my warm ones.
"I have to leave for school, but I will come back later to talk!" Alice jumped out of her seat and pecked my cheek. My eyes were wide as saucers as she gracefully skipped out of the room with a million thoughts going through my head. These people were willing to pretend to be my family for a day. They seemed to actually care at least a little about me. And for the first time in my entire life, someone had kissed me. Not one of my foster parents or siblings or anyone I could remember had ever showed me that kind of affection. I didn't think of it at all in a romantic way, but the way someone would kiss their sister. I had only received a few hugs that I could remember.
"Are you alright, dear?" Esme asked.
"Um… Yes. Yes I am. Just overwhelmed by your acts of kindness, I guess." Esme smiled at this and continued to hold my hand in hers.
"We aren't doing anything extraordinary." She tried to make it seem like it wasn't a big deal.
"Yes, you are. More than I can ever repay you for." I wanted to express my gratitude, but did not know how. Instead I asked her to tell me about her husband and children.
"Why don't you tell me what you already know about us, and then I will tell you more from there?" She asked softly.
"I don't know much. I know that Emmett and Alice almost always have a smile on their faces. I think that Edward is more depressed than he lets anyone see, but he only hides it because he loves his family so much. I know that Alice and Jasper love each other deeply. And then there is Rosalie. She is beautiful, of course, but I think that if she would let people see, she is even more beautiful on the inside. I don't believe that she is honestly a cold or mean person. I have been in a lot of foster and group homes. I have heard many horror stories from the kids there, and I think Rosalie as a horror story of her own. I am not asking to be told what it is, or even confirm or deny my suspicions. I am just saying what I think I know about the Cullen family." She was still smiling at me so I assumed I had not crossed a line. "I know that Rosalie and Emmett love each other in a way that I find beautiful. I know that Dr. Cullen's first name is Carlisle, and that all the nurses are jealous of his wife. They should be because she is the most kind and sincere person I have had the privilege to meet. The only thing I left out is that the family looks amazing and you all have the same golden eyes. I suspect contacts, but I would never tell them that." She laughed when I spoke as if I was not talking to her.
"You are observant. I won't tell the any of the Cullen family what you said. Edward is an amazing musician, so is Rosalie. Alice and Rosalie both love to shop, but Alice tends to make it more of an extreme sport. Do you like shopping?" Her eyes sparkled when she spoke of her children.
"I haven't really been shopping just to shop. I have gone in a store to get what I needed and come back out, but I don't think that counts. Keep telling me about the Cullen's."
"Emmett is always telling jokes and doing pranks. He gets in trouble more than the rest of them put together. Jasper tends to be shy around people outside of our family. But around us, he is extremely outgoing and fun to be around. He gets in trouble when he spends too much time with Emmett. Carlisle is…" She paused for a moment to decide what to say, but I could see the love in her eyes. I would never understand how these people love each other so much. "He is the most compassionate person I have ever known. He is generous and kind, and I know I am blessed that he chose me."
"It sounds like you have a wonderful family."
"I do. I truly do. Now tell me about you, or as much as you want to tell me." I didn't see why I needed to keep any secrets so I decided to tell her everything.
"I will start with what I know about my family tree. I have a great grandmother named Vera. She died a long time ago. She had three children, Henry, Rachel, and Tabitha. Henry had at least one daughter, Sarah Clark. I don't know if that is her maiden name or not. Sarah was a successful business woman who didn't have the time to raise a child. So when she had a baby, she gave it up for adoption without naming the kid. So the kid went to a foster home, and the people there named her Iona. Iona does not like her name at all, but there is nothing she can do about that. Iona has quite a medical history. She was born with heart problems and was diagnosed with cancer when she was ten. She has lived in this hospital for almost two years because her heart stops beating or the cancer is so bad that she can't leave. Who names a baby Iona? It is an ugly name." I laughed and so did Esme. "I am just glad that I wasn't aborted. It is the only thing that I am thankful to my mother for. She could have killed me, but she did not. So here I sit, giving my life story to a woman I just met."
"If you don't mind my asking, where is your family from?" She asked curiously.
"From what little research I have done, upstate New York. My great grandmother, Vera, was a little bit crazy. Her best friend went missing or something and then all these people started being killed shortly after. Everyone was convinced that her best friend was killed, but the body was never found; only a lot of blood in the snow. Vera thought that her friend might still be out there somewhere. Like maybe she ran away or was taken by somebody." The bewildered expression on Esme's face told me to change the subject. "I found a picture of my grandfather, Henry, on the internet. I think I look a lot like him. We both have dark curly hair and dimples when we smile. I never looked up my mother, and there is no father listed on my birth certificate." Esme seemed surprised by all this, but attempted to hide it.
"If you could change your name, what would you change it to?" She asked to mask her shock.
"Vera Rose, and then I would add an adopted family's last name. I like the story of my great grandmother. She never gave up trying to find her best friend. I wish that I had a friend I cared that much about, or who cared that much about me. If I went missing, I would just be another face on a milk carton. I have no one to miss me. Just like when I die, there will be no one at my funeral. Maybe my social worker would show up, but she is always busy. She is in charge of too many kids. I was never in foster homes long, and I didn't attract much attention to myself in the group homes, aside from ambulances needing to be called. No one wants to befriend or adopt a kid who is just going to die. That is just depressing." Esme wrapped her arms around me and stroked my head.
"I would know you are missing. I would try to find you. And if you die, I will go to your funeral. My whole family will. All of the children remember you from school." I hugged her back for a second, and then let go.
"It is hard not to remember the bald girl who threw up blood on the teacher's shoes, and shortly after fainted. That was in my class with Rosalie and Jasper. I remember looking at everyone, trying to find someone who could help me, but no one got up. The teacher yelled at me while I threw up more blood and then I passed out. The next thing I remember I was in this hospital room, and I have not left since."
"What do you do for fun in here?" I laughed at her question.
"Listen to the nurses gossip and watch T.V. There are only seven channels, and two of them are in Spanish. I tend to talk to myself and stare at the wall a lot. I have counted all the little specks on the ceiling tiles and all the tiles on the floor. I memorize the T.V. guide every morning. I avoid thinking about things like hell, being buried alive, being the only person at my funeral, and what others have that I do not. I should probably apologize to Dr. Cullen. I didn't say anything, but I my thoughts were on the mean and jealous side last night." There was a light knock on the door and the man himself walked into the room.
"Apology accepted, though I see no reason for you to apologize. I kept my promise, as I believe you can tell. On another note, Dr. White has the flu, and he has already taken the week off from work, so I am your doctor until he returns." My eyes lit up like a little kid's on Christmas morning. This was going to work. I was going to have a family for a day. "So can you tell me, on a scale from one to ten, what is your pain right now?"
"Five." I said with a smile. Of course I was in pain, but if I said anything over five they would give me the medication that made me sleep. I wanted to be awake, and the pain was nothing unbareable.
"Any chest pains, nausea, or dizziness this morning?" He asked without glancing at my chart. He knew my case well. He must have studied it before coming in.
"Not enough to mention for all three." I thought for a moment then motioned for him to come closer to me. "Can you request for them not to bring me breakfast until she leaves?" I whispered in his ear. He looked confused.
"Why?" He whispered.
"I don't want to subject her to witness my barf party that is sure to follow eating. Plus, I am not hungry. And I hate throwing up. Why should I eat when we both know it is going to come back up?" I whispered in his ear as quietly as I could. He stood up straighter and returned to the foot of my bed.
"I am sorry, but you need to eat. You are getting supplements through your IV, but that is not enough. You need food, and you might not get sick afterwards. You should ask Esme if she wants to leave, or tell her to if you don't feel comfortable. She understands." Esme gave her husband a questioning look. "Iona, talk to her. Is there anything else I can help you with?" He asked. I looked at Esme expectantly. When she didn't say anything I poked her arm and pointed at her husband.
"Iona wanted to know if she could spend the day at our house. You could be there the whole time, and if she started feeling unwell, we would bring her straight back. I offered to grant her wish, and she has accepted. We just need your approval." We were all smiling now.
"Are you asking for my approval as a doctor or as a husband?" He asked her.
"Both."
"Well, as a doctor I give you permission, as long as I am there with you the whole time, and you would have to bring your IV. As a husband I would love to let this girl come into our home." He kissed his wife on the cheek, which reminded me of something. I cleared my throat and exchanged a glance with Esme.
"Iona, would you excuse us for a minute?" She asked sweetly.
"Not at all! Take your time." I winked at her and watched as she grabbed her husband's hand and pulled him out of the room. They stood outside my door talking quietly for a minute. I did not try to eavesdrop; instead I turned on the television. Two women were yelling at each other in Spanish. I laughed, having seen this before. It was a rerun they played at least once a week. Just as I suspected, the younger woman stepped forward to hit the older, but tripped and fell on her face. I glanced out my door just in time to see Esme wrap both arms around Dr. Cullen's neck and press her lips to his. He stumbled backwards and leaned against the wall behind him; directly in front of the nurses' station.
"Go Esme!" I whispered under my breath. I turned my attention back to the T.V., not really wanting to intrude on their moment. It was another few minutes before I heard a gentle tap on my door. "Come in." I told Esme. Her hair was a mess and her lipstick was gone. She moved to sit in the chair next to my bed, but I scooted over and patted the bed beside me. She sat carefully on the edge. "Let me fix your hair." I told her and ran my fingers through her amazingly soft caramel-colored. In a short period of time it was almost as nice as it was before. "I don't think any of the nurses will think you have an unhappy marriage any more. In fact, if you hadn't come back in when you did I was going to have to go out there and tear you two kids apart." I tried to act stern. To my surprise she looked embarrassed. Maybe it was a good thing I wasn't watching, maybe I missed something I didn't want to see. "I'm just glad that I didn't witness it." This seemed to relieve some of her stress.
"I believe the problem has solved. Carlisle doesn't work tomorrow, so he said that if you are feeling up to it, you can come to our house then. He also said that…" She looked at her lap uncomfortably. For some reason, I felt the need to comfort her. I wrapped my arm around her shoulder and with my free hand tilted her chin so she was facing me.
"You can tell me, whatever it is. I can assure you that whatever you say, I've been told worse." I smiled at her.
"Carlisle said that we should do it sooner, rather than later, because you are going to be in more pain and won't be able to leave the hospital as the days go on." Her voice sounded weak and defeated. Her shoulders began shaking in a way I recognized as crying, though she was good at not letting the tears flow.
"Hey, there is no sadness here. This bed is for happy people only. Everyone dies; it is a part of life. There is no reason for you to cry. It's not like I am an exceptionally good person or your friend or family. I am just one of your husband's many patients. I probably won't be the first or last to keel over. If it is going to make you sad to be around a dying person, then we don't have to do this. You can go home and pretend like I never existed. I won't think any less of you. The kindness you have shown me today is more than I ever thought to ask for. You've sat in here for an hour and talked to me. You hugged me and made me laugh. I am a stranger, and you showed me compassion. So thanks for that, but you owe me no more." I patted the back of her purple blouse gently. I had never been in this situation before and was unsure of what to do. I didn't have anyone to be upset about my illness. It was just me.
"I am sorry, I'll keep myself together." She mumbled.
"Take a deep breath and push all the negative thoughts and emotions away, they serve no purpose anyways. That is what I do when I feel… that way." She nodded and I rubbed small circles on her back, like the mothers on television did to their kids when they were upset. It was supposed to be comforting or soothing. It must have worked because she sat up a bit straighter and looked me in the eyes.
"If you'd like, I will be your family." She said with a combination of strength and pleading I could not comprehend. I had to think about this one. I had just met this lady. We had talked for an hour, yet I felt close to her. There was something inside her, something that just seemed… motherly. She was an overall maternal person. Of course, she had to be. She adopted five children. For three weeks she would be my family. She would go to my funeral, maybe even be there when I die. I could see that she was trying not to start crying again.
"It would be mean of me to subject you to that. For you to be my family for a little while, and then I die? That is too much to put on your shoulders." I told her sincerely.
"It saddens me that you don't know this, but family is forever. You do not stop being family just because one person dies." She explained her opinion to me.
"When I stop breathing, I won't remember you. I won't remember anything. I won't be anything. What is that quote? Ashes to ashes, dust to dust or something? I will turn to dust." I tried to reason with her. A spark of anger appeared on her face, but disappeared as quickly as it came. She was good at composing herself.
"I don't believe that. I lost my first and only biological son years ago, but I firmly believe my baby boy is looking down on me from heaven. I don't know if I will ever see him again, or if I will ever get to heaven at all, but I hope so." The sorrow in her words as she spoke of her deceased son was overpowering. I had to take a deep breath to keep myself composed. Obviously I said the wrong thing to her. Not wanting to offend her further I rested my cheek on her shoulder. We sat like that until a man wearing a hair net walked into the room and sat a tray on the table. He left without saying a word. The smell of hospital food already had my stomach churning.
"You should probably leave now. Because it is pretty much a guarantee that once the food goes in me, it will come straight back out." I gave her the opportunity to leave; a get out of jail free card.
"No, I will be fine. You are my seventh child, remember? Being a mother gives you a strong stomach." She had that look in her eyes; the wanting I had seen in the eyes of people who desperately wanted to adopt one of the kids in a group or foster home. It was scary to think that she may actually want me.
"Suit yourself." I said taking the lid off the plate. Eggs, grits, and turkey bacon. The food was discolored and bland as always. The eggs felt like rubber in my mouth, but I ate them all. I was halfway through the grits when my stomach tightened. I reached for my barf bowl (the nurses hated when I called it that, but it was more fun the actual name), but I couldn't reach it. In one fluid motion Esme grabbed the bowl and held it under my chin just in time for my breakfast to make its reappearance. My throat burned, my head hurt, and my mouth tasted disgusting. I couldn't stop heaving even after my stomach was empty. Tears rolled down my face as I tried to gain control over my body, but it just wouldn't work. I coughed and heaved and gasped for air. It hurt so bad I couldn't even bring myself to feel embarrassed. After an immeasurable period of time that felt like forever, my stomach gave up on trying to kill me. I felt too weak to even sit up, so I fell back onto my pillows. Breakfast was always the worst. I closed my eyes and tried taking deep breaths, but sometimes, it wouldn't work. So I focused on the blackness that was the back of my eyelids. Nothing but darkness.
"You are going to hurt yourself, sweetheart. You need to let go." I had forgotten Esme was in the room until she had her cold hands on mine, pulling on them. I opened my eyes to see that I was clutching my stomach. It hurt, like it normally did, but it always hurt the most after I ate, or threw up. I was unsure which because they came as a pair. Never one without the other. "Oh my!" I heard her exclaim.
"Wh-whats wrong?" I whispered. My head was pounding from the strain of heaving.
"There is blood in this!" She was scared and startled and surprised. I just nodded my head.
"Yeah. That happens." My voice was so quiet, I don't know how she heard it. I wiped away my tears with the back of my hand. Esme must have called a nurse because one came in the room and started asking questions loudly. I ignored whatever she was saying. "Give me the stuff that knocks me out. I have a headache, vertigo, pain in my upper and middle abdomen, and I am nauseous. There was blood in my vomit, but you'll have to ask Esme how much. I didn't see. And would you please lower your voice?" I knew how to deal with the nurses after years of practice. I had to convince them I was not faking my pain. All of the nurses were convinced I was always pretending to be in more pain than I was. All I wanted was to be unconscious.
"Yeah, that is a lot of blood." I imagined Esme shoving my barf bowl into the hands of the nurse as the nurse spoke. "I'll be back with medication. I am not authorized to give you the medication I know you want, that is for night use only. But I will give you the stuff that makes you drowsy and sleep talk." She knew me equally as well as I knew her. I didn't acknowledge that I heard her speak. As promised, she returned with fast working medication. Immediately I could feel myself slipping into slumber. I was already exhausted, and the drowsiness caused by the medication was all I needed to fall asleep.
"I'll come back to see you later, you need to rest now." Esme whispered into my ear, and then I felt something cold pressed against my forehead. I must have been half asleep already, because my response was not something I would do if I was aware of my actions.
"Stay with me." I grabbed blindly and managed to grip her arm in my hand. "I don't want to die alone."