Tucking a loose tendril of hair behind her ear, Elsie nods an affirmation to Beryl's question. Beryl means well; asking a string of questions, some of which she has asked at least twice just to confirm that she has understood the answer correctly. While Elsie has answered most of them, her attention focuses on the man at the bar and to the drink that he holds in his hand. He is working on his third and he is well on his way to asking Bill to top it off again. With the news they have just received she hasn't the heart to stop him, to tell him that in an hour or so he will have unsteady legs and the nauseating sensation that the room is spinning out of control. No, she'll let him indulge and deal with the consequences later. She will sling his limp arm around her shoulders, help him into her house, and watch as his limber body flops onto the bed. She remove his coat and shoes, pull the blanket over him and let him sleep it off. When he wakes, she will mop his brow with a cool cloth, brew a pot of strong coffee, and force him to eat the smallest bits of toast all in an effort to alleviate the pain that he is inflicting upon himself.
"He'll be fine," Beryl reassures her friend.
"I know, but he'll hurt in the morning," Elsie sighs as she watches Charles thrust his glass forward and Bill fill it with his best single malt.
"Well, if he's going to drink all of Bill's whiskey it's best he's doing it out of happiness instead of sorrow." Beryl notices that as Elsie takes a sip of her orange juice and vodka a look of sadness and uncertainty passes across her face.
"What's got you so worried, love? It's good news. The doctor said that it's a benign condition. A bit of surgery and it's over," Beryl asks, reaching across to take Elsie's shaking hand.
"He did say that, yes, but he also said that it could return… and what if…." She is unsure how to continue and looking toward Charles as he animatedly chats with two men at the bar, she turns back to Beryl, tears stinging her eyes as she begins again. "What if they have to take more than what…" she rolls her bottom lip between her teeth. She cannot bring herself to say the words.
"And if they do, it will be fine. You will be fine and well. And that is what counts." Beryl squeezes her hand in reassurance but she knows that there is something else; something that Elsie is not saying, something frightening and very private. She watches as Elsie looks back to Charles and then her gaze falls to her lap.
"What if….what if he sees me differently?" she asks in a near whisper. "The doctor said that sometimes with these things depending on how much tissue is taken….there can be…disfigurement."
"Is that what's got you worried?" Beryl asks and Elsie tightly nods in agreement. "Oh, Elsie. That man loves you and I have no doubt that everything will be all right."
"I hope so," Elsie replies softly, her glistening eyes flicking up to meet Beryl's.
"Now I've gotta love so deep in the pit of my heart, and each day it grows more and more," Charles sings in his finest, slightly off-key baritone. His arm slung over Elsie's shoulder, they stumble toward the bedroom.
"Come on Mr. Sinatra, let get that jacket off," Elsie says a little more sternly than she intends as she smoothes her palms under Charles's coat.
"I can think of other things that I'd like to take off," he replies, moving to work loosen the tie of her dress.
"You're in no condition to take off anything," she reminds him. Finally pulling his coat free, she folds it and places it across a nearby chair. "Now sit on the bed and let's get those shoes off."
"Ain't too proud to beg sweet darling," he begins to sing again. "Ain't too proud to plead baby, baby, please don't leave me girl." Elsie removes one shoe and tugs his sock off; Charles reaches for her and playfully she slips just out of his grasp. "…Just to keep you by my side…. If I have to sleep on your doorstep…."
She cannot help but smile at his antics. She's never seen this side of Charles, this Cheerful Charlie, and she thinks that she rather likes him. With his mussed hair, flushed cheeks, and broad smile, yes, she thinks that this side of Charles is one that he may regret come morning when his head is throbbing, but she is so glad that she's seen this side of him; this carefree Charles. With Charles' other shoe and sock removed, Elsie flicks her wrist, a slim finger motioning for him to lie back. Charles slips into bed and Elsie cannot help but to look down at him with soft eyes and a melting heart. Her lovely man, she thinks. They've been together almost a year and she can hardly think of what she would do without him in her life. She bends to pull the blanket up to cover him and as she begins to tuck the cover in around him, he gently reaches for her wrist.
"Come here, Mrs. Carson," he whispers sweet and low, suddenly quite serious.
"I'm not Mrs. Carson, yet," she reminds him.
"Just as good as," he assures her, turning her hand so that her engagement ring shines brightly. He pulls her to sit beside him. "You're not leaving me." It is a statement, a declaration. The confirmation of hope that he has celebrated tonight.
"Not anytime soon Mr. Carson," she responds, her eyes glistening. "You're stuck with me. Remember?" The gentle love she finds in his eyes is her undoing and she is quickly blinking away tears; he reaches up to her, wipes the falling tears away from her high cheekbones with a tender touch.
She watches as his eyes begin to close, slumber claiming him at last. She watches the rise and fall of his chest, his breath beginning to even, and she reaches out to brush back the unruly shock of hair that curls onto his forehead. The moment she removes her hand, the curl springs back and she cannot help but smile and a small laugh escapes at the absurdity of it. She reaches to switch off the light and Charles, in his sleep, calls for her, reaches out for her. She places a light kiss to his forehead and he settles. No, she's not leaving him. Not anytime soon.
A/N: The condition that Elsie has is called a Fibroadenoma. They are non-cancerous breast lumps that can occur at anytime in a woman's life but generally occur in a woman's 20s and 30s. As woman ages they are generally recommended to be removed rather than watched. Women may have several of these and even once removed the fibroadenoma may recur. Regular exams are necessary to ensure breast health. You can find basic information at www dot cancer dot org.
A/N2: While I credit JF with Mrs. Hughes breast lump storyline and it was played beautifully, it was (like many things) never followed up with or mentioned again even though it was benign. That is one reason why I wanted to devote some time to it here.
TBC… Thank you all so very much for reading, reviewing, and encouragement. The next chapters involve surgery and we move toward Christmas. Reviews are always appreciated.