Chapter 10
Three pairs of eyes slam open at the sound of two roosters crowing...inside the house. They widen even more when the crowing stops and the tune of 'Rule, Britannia!' is whistled out.
'What an unpatriotic bird,' Bog grumbles silently, pushing himself to sit up.
"Wrong channel," Plum squawks!
Beathan's laughter rings out as the cockatoos change the whistle to the tune of 'Scotland the Brave'.
"What are you two doing in here," Marianne questions from the doorway?
Puck and Plum stop their antics to stare up at her in innocence from their position on Beathan's bedpost.
"Stop grumbling. Your mother is right," Marianne comments.
Bog looks up from his task of putting on his boots to find Marianne leaning against his doorpost. Giving a sigh, he finishes and grabs his tool belt off his dresser.
"I need to stay here with Beathan," Bog remarks.
"You need to go back to work. You haven't gone to work since the accident," Marianne starts, raising her hand to cut off his protest. "Doing paperwork when you should be sleeping doesn't count."
"Beathan needs me," Bog insists. "I can't just abandon him."
"You're not abandoning him. Griselda and I can help him out just fine," she counters. "As I told you when we had lunch yesterday, you have to let Beathan discover his own weaknesses. You can't keep rescuing him before he even realizes there is a problem. He's grown up now and you need to let him grow up."
"But what if...," he starts before soft fingers cut off his speech?
"You are not doing either of you any good," Marianne interjects. "Beathan is confused enough and he needs you to act the same as you've done before. I've heard enough to know that you've never sheltered him and you treated him just like any other child so that he wouldn't grow up feeling like he was different than everyone else. Don't do so now. Listen to your mother. Go to work and leave the rest to us."
"I almost lost him this time and I can still lose him," Bog murmurs, tears escaping liquid blue eyes. "What if something happens when I'm not around?"
Marianne wipes off the tears and smiles reassuringly at the distressed man. As much as she wants to help this family, she knows that she can't fully understand how he, a worried father, feels but that doesn't stop her from wanting to heal his pain. There aren't any words that she could say to ease his fears, so instead, she leans against his broad chest in an effort to give him strength.
"Thanks," Bog sighs into the hug.
"This sucks baws," Beathan grumbles.
"Language, Beathan," Griselda reprimands!
"Sorry, Gran. I'm just bored," Beathan complains. "Staying in the infirmary was bad enough but to come home and still not be able to do anything is terrible. Are ye sure I can't help out just a little?"
"You are helping out by keeping those two out of trouble," Marianne counters, pointing a dirt-covered finger toward Puck edging toward the baby plants.
Beathan quickly tugs the leash and Puck grumbles as he walks back to the wheelchair. He turns his attention back to Marianne as she helps his grandmother weed her garden beds. 'But it's my job,' he laments silently. Shifting in his seat brings a bit of pain and he winces as two sets of eyes instantly turn toward him.
"I'll go get your medication," Marianne comments.
Within moments, Marianne returns from the house with a glass of water and a cup of medication. Beathan quickly takes his medication and shifts again with a sigh before looking back at the attentive woman. It's a lot easier not focusing on everything when his father was around to be angry at but somehow both women managed to chase him off to work.
"I want to do something," Beathan remarks. "I feel useless."
"You're injured, not useless," Marianne points out. "In another week or two, your injuries will have healed enough for you to do your regular activity and you won't need as much medication but for now you need to rest."
"Why can't I at least do my schoolwork," Beathan questions? "I don't want to have to repeat the school year all over again."
"Don't worry about that, dear," Griselda chimes in. "The board of education decided that since this is yer last year and that there were only several weeks of school left at the time of yer accident that they are going to let you finish those weeks as soon as the doctor gives the okay."
"You may think that your mind is working properly but I can assure you that if you try any of your schoolwork you will get frustrated because of it being difficult," Marianne remarks, seeing the boy's argument ready to surface. "Your mind has been through a lot as well and it needs to rest too. It's better to wait."
"Ye're home early," Griselda comments.
Bog winces at the accusatory tone and the dry-look. His mother's position in her rocking chair gives her a full view of him trying to sneak back into the house. But it was his house! He should be allowed in it whenever he wanted!
"Where's Beathan," Bog asks?
"Taking a nap," Marianne calls out from the kitchen.
Bog smiles at the domestic scene after he peeks into the kitchen. Plum is perched onto a chair as Marianne briskly makes preparations for dinner and every-so-often hands a cut vegetable to the waiting bird. He can't hold back his laughter, though, as he looks around for the other feathered guest and finds Puck dancing in front of the television that Marianne brought with her.
"Beathan was okay today," Bog questions?
"He is fine, dear," Griselda reassures with a gentle smile. "Marianne helped me weed the garden while Beathan enjoyed the fresh air. He may have grumbled a little about not doing anything but he did keep Puck from devouring my young plants. Then he watched tv for a little while before nodding off to sleep. He's his father's lad and can't stand to be non-active."
Griselda's glare has more fondness to it than heat but it doesn't make it any less intimating. Bog tries very hard not to laugh out loud and shrugs in innocence before heading to his room to change his clothes. If there was one thing every Mcgallrigh had a problem with then it is definitely sitting still and it's the bane of those that married or birthed them.
"Ye're home early," Beathan mumbles sleepily.
Bog gives a small grin at the dazed blue eyes peering up at him through the doorway. Even with all the heartache of the past two weeks, there were times that he was reminded that his son was still his son no matter what his present attitude was and it is a refreshing balm to his heart.
"The gathering is in two weeks so there aren't any big jobs to do," Bog explains.
"Ah right, I forgot," Beathan mutters. "I'll be healed just in time to be gawked at for being a freak."
"Beathan Jasper Mcgallrigh! Ye're not a freak and I'll not be hearing ye say that again. Do I make myself clear," Bog growls?
"I've got no legs," Beathan growls back! "What good am I now? I'm confined to a chair and I can't build anything anymore! What am I supposed to do?"
"There's plenty for ye to do," Bog argues! "So ye can't walk without prosthetics, so what! Ye're still alive and ye still got yer brain!"
"You both need to use your brains," Marianne growls, causing Bog to jump! "Bog, control your temper! Beathan, obey the doctor's orders! She ordered that you stay calm and relaxed, which you're not doing by baiting your father."
"I'm fine," Beathan mumbles, avoiding glaring amber eyes.
"No, you are not," Marianne remarks. "You're stressing out your heart and you will land yourself back in the infirmary, if not the ICU ward again."
"My heart," Beathan repeats?
"Did you listen to the doctor at all," Marianne question?
"Yes," Beathan replies hesitantly, flinching as Marianne's palm connects with her forehead.
"Did you at least listen to the part where she explained why they had to amputate your legs," Marianne mutters?
"My legs were crushed when the truck rolled," Beathan answers.
"Griselda, is selective hearing also a Mcgallrigh trait," Marianne asks dryly?
"Unfortunately," Griselda huffs.
Both women turn their glares to the elder male and Bog raises his hands defensively.
"Like ye both said, he's grown up and can answer for himself," Bog comments uneasily, ignoring Beathan calling him a coward.
Marianne shakes her head at the man, barely holding back her laughter, before heading over to sit next to Beathan on his bed. The lanky teenager tries to smile charmingly but it turns into a grimace before he sighs at her serious expression and forces himself to sit up.
'I guess all that nurse training still comes in handy,' Marianne silently admits.