A special thank you to Jana for all of her help with this story. If not for her ideas, this would not have been possible. Thanks Jana! You're the greatest!!!
Chapter 7
She turned her head to the window, watching the bickering pigeons
with minor fascination.
Every moment invoked more pain to her formerly lifeless body. Her head
pounded, and she tried to remain calm despite the emotions fluttering in her
chest. She felt bombarded, first by her darkness, and then, by the man who was
currently holding her hand. His thumb caressed hers, his smile, inviting her
in.
"Richard?" she found herself saying with more emotion than she intended
to reveal.
"We need time."
"Time? Okay. I could use time."
She detected a slight tremor in his voice, but decided to ignore
it. Slumber embraced her, and her eyelids silenced his response.
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She did not wake until the next morning. With a grunt, she pushed herself up onto her elbows in attempts
to sip the water that stood on the night stand. Her attempt was blocked by the blond hair that draped across her
elbow. Richard was snoring softly, his head, near her neck. His eyes were dark,
as was his chin, that scraped against her shoulder. She felt herself respond to
his vulnerable state as her fingers toyed with his hair.
Suddenly, darkness enveloped her again.
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It would continue on for the next few weeks, lapsing in and out of
consciousness. She could be in them middle of a conversation, and then abruptly
enclosed in a sea of black. Richard had frequented her room several times, each
day, looking more worn from his late nights at the club. Her physical state was
slowly improving, though she fought nausea almost hourly. Walking around her
room gave some hope of escaping her cell, but because of her immobility for the
past three months, she could only stand upright for 15 minutes at a time. She
was beginning to tire of the barren walls that stared at her every morning. Or
the cries of the desperately ill that seemed to constantly bombard her. Often,
children were rushed by her room in a fit of tearful wailing and this made her
chest tighten.
It was that perfectly calm November morning when she woke to the
familiar sight of Richard's haggard gaze. She brushed her fingertips against
his brow.
"Hey Richard,….awwww….what a sight to wake up to."
"Yeah right, I look like I should be hanging out in the alley near
Union Station."
She brushed off his normal demeanor, and pulled his face to hers. He
immediately responded, tantalizing her with the slow, deliberate teasing of his
lips. He remained by her bedside for the remainder of the morning, until she
commanded him to leave.
"Richard, you're up all night, and then you come here immediately
thereafter. Why don't you take a rest and come by later, when you've had some
sleep. My condition has improved over the past few weeks. If I continue to show
progress, I will be able to go home in two weeks. Come on, go home."
He was hesitant to rise from his chair, but his fatigue was plainly
etched across his face.
"All right, Caroline." He lingered in the doorway for a moment longer.
"Just one thing. Where are we at? We haven't really had much time to talk since
you're constantly resting."
Caroline aimed her gaze at the television, refusing to meet his
eyes. Honestly, she didn't really know.
She knew that she loved Richard, but felt drained from her accident, and didn't
want to dwell on any more potential chaos in her life right now. The events
before her accident were still too painful. While unconscious, a vision of
their interaction at the park invaded her dreamless sleep. This same vision
mocked her, haunted her, held her sanity in its palm.
Richard eyed her expectantly.
"Well?" he took a step toward her.
Instead of responding, Caroline was silent, allowing the tension to
escalate between them. There had been instances where she had submitted to her
feelings, but they had, in turn, granted her pain . At the park and in her
apartment. What she felt for Richard was intense, to the point that it
frightened her. To become involved could tear her apart, consume every last
whim of hope, if it were to end. Time and time again, she had witnessed the
desperation of friends tormented by love. Time and again, she saw their lives
deteriorate, their thoughts crazed with jealousy and insecurity.
Her silence fueled Richard's insecurity, and before she could respond
to his inquisition, he left. His angry steps rang throughout the empty hallway,
and she tried to follow him, but as soon as she rose from the bed, darkness
enveloped her again
How simple a question? Richard reached for a bottle of Quianti, devouring
it in two generous gulps. What did she mean? What did I do wrong? My actions
must be overwhelming her. She doesn't really love me. Like demons, they
taunted him, allowing him to sink deeper into his drunken depression.
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For the next two weeks, Caroline's condition improved rapidly, though
visitors were diminishing. Annie came regularly before work, as did Del and
Charlie. Her parents needed to return to Peshtigo, but none of these people
were the ONE she desired to see most. She didn't realize the depth of Richard's
concern for her until this moment. How he sacrificed sleep to be by her bedside
when she woke. Or the times he held her head up when she ate. How he helped her
with her medicine, stayed until she fell asleep, and denied what he needed for
her sake. And now, her days were filled with Cagney and Lacey reruns.
The following afternoon was Caroline's final one at the hospital. She
felt relieved, but unsure of what she would do now that Richard was gone. She
needed to talk to him, but anxiety prevented her from contacting him. Annie
ushered her into the taxi, and accompanied her to her apartment.
"Come one, hun, we're going to get you into bed."
"Bed, what are you talking about? I've slept enough to last a
lifetime."
Annie grinned. "Okay, what do you propose we do tonight?"
"You mean you're free? No sailors?"
"What do you take me for? Someone who gets her security from a steady
date life for two consecutive years in a row. And, if I may add, has NEVER had
a Saturday night without a handsome stud on my doorstep."
"Okay, so I was right."
"Just checking." Annie linked arms with her, helping her up the stairs
to her bedroom. "Let's go to a movie. You can handle a movie, right?"
"Right." Caroline placed a wobbly leg onto the first stair step. Annie
assisted her, her arms around Caroline's shoulders, trying not to reveal the
tears the laced her eyes.
"We'll find you something spectacular to wear. Maybe we'll find you
another stud, fresh from the hospital."
To her dismay, Caroline began to sob, as she shrunk in Annie's arms. "I
miss him so much, Annie. I feel like such a fool." Her legs refused to support
her weight any longer, and she collapsed. Annie rubbed her back, and soothed
her with words like a mother.
"Come one, get up there. It'll work out, Caroline, I promise." What
a jerk. She wanted to believe that. She wanted to cast any good feelings
about Richard into a lifeless sea, but all she felt was concern. She knew of
Richard's feelings for Caroline, even before Caroline did. At times, she
encountered Richard in the street, his expression, contorted with hidden
emotion. She knew that whatever Caroline was feeling, Richard returned it. Now,
what was she going to do? To begin with, help her best-friend get through the
evening without a nervous breakdown.
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"Aww....Brad Pitt. I love Brad Pitt. He's got nice pecks. Let's go see
The Mexican."
"Uh...okay. Oh Annie, look! They're having a French film festival at
this very theater. Usually you have to go to Greenwich Village for that. It'll
be going on all night, so we can watch one after you're thirst for Mr. Pitt is
quenched. What do you think?"
"Sure..only you would take a perfectly brainless evening and try to
turn it into something meaningful. But, well, since you've been in a coma for
the past three months, I'd consider letting you choose. That's just the
compassionate person I am." Annie basked in her philanthropic moment.
"Okay Annie, we'd better hurry up and go stand in line. It's begining
to stretch across the block." Caroline reached her arm out for Annie's
shoulder. She was still having difficulty walking, and this particular evening,
waves of dizziness washed over her every 20 minutes or so.
Annie guided her to the end of the line. "Are you sure you're going to
be okay?"
"Okay? Yeah, I'm just feeling a little lightheaded. The doctors
wouldn't have dismissed me if they believed otherwise." Caroline opened her
mouth to chuckle at the absurdity of Annie's question, when she felt herself
fade into blackness, once again.
She woke 2 minutes later, to the scent of someone familiar. Someone who
caused the void in her heart to widen. Someone who caused her heart to beat
furiously now. Someone whose arms made her feel safe. His jacket was wrapped
around her. His knees provided a cushion to her throbbing head. She looked up
at him.
"Richard." She croaked, her voice barely audible over the tears.
He embraced her tightly, afraid to let go.
"What are you doing here?" She turned her head to Annie, whose eyes
were wide with concern.
"I came here for the French film festival, alone, and I saw you. God,
Caroline. Don't ever do that to me again." His fingers played with her hair.
"You were standing in front of me, and then you passed out. Luckily I was close
enough to where I could catch you." His words came out in a torrent of fear and
relief.
"Richard.." with regained composure she put her arms onto his
shoulders. "Can you help me up?" He nodded, and pulled her to a secluded corner
where they could continue their conversation.
She placed her forearms against the wall, fighting the nausea in the
pit of her stomach. Richard put his arm around her waist.
"We need to get you home. Annie, can you flag a taxi?" Annie nodded and
rushed to the curb. Meanwhile, Richard escorted Caroline to the edge of the
sidewalk. After 3 steps, her legs collapsed under her.
"I'm sorry," she cracked, her line of vision, blurred by tears.
Richard gathered her in his arms, lifting her from the ground, and
pressing her head to his shoulder like a child. Annie ran up to him.
"It's here." She entered the cab first, and Richard placed Caroline
between them.
…………………………………………………………………………………………………………………
45 minutes later, Richard watched Caroline sleep soundly on her couch.
Her head rested in his lap, her breathing, to his relief, was regular. With
each rise and fall of her chest, he felt his eyelids droop. He reached for a
blanket, and draped it over the both of them.
It was Caroline that woke first, to that comfortable, familiar scent.
She noticed that her arm clung to Richard's thigh. She sat up to face him. This
small motion caused him to stir, and groggily, he rubbed his eyes.
"Hey."
"Hey."
"Thank you for taking care of me."
"No problem."
"No, it is. Richard…" She stared at the cushion, feigning intense curiosity
with their color, and intertwined her fingers with his. "I didn't understand
how serious you were about us until you left the hospital. I was scared. Scared
about how I felt. Scared about what could happen. I didn't trust you."
"Caroline, that day, a million words swam through my head. I wanted to
call you so bad, but thought you didn't want to speak to me. I thought you
didn't love me as I loved you. And so, like a fool, I thought it was best to
leave you alone, and give you some time to think."
She punched him. "How could you think that, when I kissed you the way I
did? That wasn't exactly indifferent."
"Well, you didn't say anything, I get scared. I didn't trust you,
either, forgive me."
"I don't know. You may have to earn your forgiveness." a smile teased
her lips.
"How so?" he brought his forehead to hers, kissing her nose, her
cheeks, and finally digressing to her waiting lips. Despite her previous
weakness, she pressed into him. His mouth moved to her neck, his arms, crushing
her against him. She in turn, nibbled on his ear. He reverted back to her
mouth, sharing a mutual longing that had been previously ignored. It was slow,
and sweet at first, each tasting the other. As time progressed, so did the
sparks that flickered between them.
"Richard," she breathed into him.
"Yes." his breaths were short and desperate.
"Just a million or so more of these, and we're equal."
THE END