Life or Death part 2
Jane's principal was concerned when he heard that she wasn't feeling well, and asked if it was related to the intervention she had done the day before. Without going into details, Jane said yes, and told him that she was going to go by the hospital for a quick check in before returning home and resting. He wished her well, and Jane hung up the phone with a minor twinge of guilt and a big sigh of relief.
At the hospital, she went directly to M. Côté's room. Little Jacques was sitting propped up in bed, with a bowl of oatmeal in front of him. His IV had been removed, and his bandages were changed. His grandfather was struggling to drink a cup of weak lukewarm tea and eat some limp toast. "C'est dégueulasse," he complained when he saw her. She smiled in commiseration with him, fairly sure that she would find it 'bloody disgusting' too. His chest was bandaged from some cracked ribs, and his foot was propped up on some pillows.
She sat down on Jacques' bed and as a matter of course began to feed him the oatmeal with encouraging words. M. Côté began asking her questions about how she knew French, and she started telling him about her year in Paris with her family. They began talking about some of the landmarks, and he was holding his side trying not to laugh as she described her trip to the top of the Eiffel tower, and the way she reacted to being up so high after climbing all those stairs.
Johnny entered the room as she was miming clinging to the wall near the stairs of the tower as the rest of the family was looking over the city. He grinned crookedly and raised his eyebrows as he saw her creep sideways along the wall towards the door with her eyes closed, swaying gently back and forth as if on something that was moving. She opened her eyes as her hand touched his arm and gave a squeak and a small jump of surprise. This made Jacques laugh as if it was the funniest thing he'd ever seen, and Jane had to go calm him down.
"You wanna tell me what that was about?" John asked.
Jane blushed and replied, "Later, okay?"
M. Côté didn't recognize Johnny right away since he wasn't wearing his turn out and helmet, and Jane had to introduce him as the young man who had helped rescue him the day before. After that, both patients were very interested in him.
M. Côté called Johnny over to his bed, and nearly shocked his socks off when he grabbed John's shoulders and pulled him close to kiss him soundly on both cheeks. John looked terrified, and Jane nearly choked with suppressed laughter.
John asked Jane if she was ready to go get some breakfast, with a hint of urgency in his voice. Jane nodded, unconscious softness in her gaze, which led M. Côté to ask bluntly, "Est-il ton copain?" and she blushed again and said that yes, he was her boyfriend. "Bon!" Jane agreed; it was good.
At breakfast, John chuckled as Jane recounted her story of the Eiffel tower for him, and commented that she probably wouldn't make a very good fireman. Jane opened her eyes very wide and shook her head vehemently. "I leave all that to you, and you're welcome to it!"
"So, you want to tell me about your night last night?
"You mean my dream?" she asked, and he nodded as he bit into a slice of bacon.
She sighed. "It wasn't really a dream, it was a memory." Her face became sorrowful. "I spent the night reliving the car accident my mom died in, in living colour."
He winced. "Aw, I'm sorry, babe."
"Yes, well, I guess the ghosts that got stirred up yesterday really needed to speak."
"You wanna talk about it?"
"Not really – well, not at all, actually – but I think I'd better, since it's all right here in front of my face."
"What is?"
"Seeing my mom die. Seeing my sister's broken body beside me in the back seat. Hearing the car blow up and realizing that's when my dad got so burned…"
"I didn't realize you remembered so much about it."
"Neither did I until I was right there; sights, smells, sounds, everything – during the night. That's why I couldn't face going to work today. I feel…Johnny, I feel like I've just been in a car crash."
He nodded. He knew what trauma could do to a person.
"And now…" she paused, and then continued after she collected herself, "now I see my father lying in the hospital bed, unrecognizable as the man he was just a few hours before…through his bandages I could see he had no hair, skin like raw meat, eyes sunken, obviously in extreme pain…I didn't know whether to pray that he would live or pray that he would die soon…he fought so hard for almost a week…you know, before he died, he apologized to me…" her tears fell unnoticed by her, and John reached out and took her hand with both of his. He didn't say anything, just waited for her to continue when she felt up to it.
"He apologized for anything that he may have done to hurt me in my life, to my mother; I don't know if he knew or remembered that she was dead …when they told us it was a matter of days because his organs were failing, he told he wanted me to be happy, and asked me to forgive him for leaving me alone…that night, he seemed a bit better and I said, 'I'll see you in the morning,' and he smiled although it must have cost him so much pain to do so, and he tried to hold my hand, and said, 'See you'….he must have known…I arrived the next morning, first thing, and the nurse met me at the door, saying, 'You just missed him. He's gone, not five minutes ago,' and I went in, crying out for him…I thought it was bad to watch my mother die, but it was almost worse to miss my dad go…at least she wasn't alone…"
Her emotions overcame her completely, and she couldn't speak, couldn't even sob, so Johnny rose from his seat, and came to her side, kneeling beside her chair and holding her close while stroking her hair. "It's okay, it's okay." They were meaningless words, but they comforted her just the same.
After breakfast, which she couldn't eat, he followed her home in his car, to make sure she was all right. She invited him in, and he asked, "Are you sure? I mean, you're pretty tired, you had a rough night, and you've got the day off – don't you wanna rest?"
"I want to be with you." She looked at him intently, and ran her finger down the line of his cheekbone. In a strange and powerful reaction, her earlier grief and emotion had somehow transformed into a physical need to be close to this man. He shivered involuntarily and closed his eyes. She slowly traced the line of his mouth, and then kissed his chin. "Hmm. Bit stubbly," she murmured.
He opened his eyes and smiled at her. "I wasn't expecting to need a clean shave."
"I don't mind." She stood on her toes, wrapped her arms around his neck and leaned into him. "Stay. Please. I don't want to be alone," she said with her eyes imploring him.
He had to catch his breath, "Uh…"
"Really. Too many ghosts in this place and in my head. I really need to be distracted…" She kissed his mouth firmly, her hands gently pulling through his dark hair…and his arms wrapped around her more tightly.
When she finally released him, he sighed. "Okay. Okay. I know when I'm beat." He half led, half carried her inside and closed the door behind them.
