Chapter Four
Simplicity
Sissy slept fitfully until daylight began to pierce the blinds, alerting her to the fact that she had to get the runts to school. It was the responsible thing to do, even though she fully intended to skip herself. The pair, after sleeping on a cot all night, were grumpy and subdued as she sent Jody and then Buffy into the bathroom to freshen up and change clothes. Sissy simply combed her fingers through her hair and reapplied her make-up, anything more would have to wait. French was still fast asleep, and he looked rather peaceful in the misty morning light. She was glad of that. The last thing she wanted was to explain that she planned to return just as soon as the runts were at school. It was always easier to ask for forgiveness than for permission, after all.
"What about Mister French?" asked Jody quietly as she ushered them toward the door.
"If you guys are good at school today and wait with your teacher when school's over, then maybe, just maybe we can all go home tonight." said Sissy, hoping that she wasn't promising them too much, that they wouldn't be disappointed. Her answer seemed to pacify both of them.
As she closed the door to the hospital room behind them, Gladys at the her desk down the hall, waved them over.
"I was just about to come and wake you." she told them with a soft smile.
"Thanks, but I think we've managed." said Sissy. "I'm ... I'm coming back as soon as these two are in school. If French wakes up while I'm out, would you mind telling him that ... I'll be right back?" she questioned.
"I'm on my way out, dear, but I'll let Dolores know the instant I see her." Gladys told her.
"Thanks for everything." said Sissy, meaning every word as she guided the sleepy twins toward the elevator.
"Oh, don't mention it, dear!" the nurse called after them.
After a quiet cab ride to the neighborhood school and a hasty drop off, Sissy glanced at the time and decided to risk a quick pit-stop at the apartment to check the answering machine. She had half expected Uncle Bill to show up at the hospital at the crack of dawn. She had been at least mildly disappointed. But when she saw the light on the answering machine flashing, that was forgotten as she pressed the button and collapsed in a nearby chair.
The first message was a little disheartening. Uncle Bill sounded a lot more worried than she felt that morning. She was still anxious, of course, but everything wrong seemed rightable. The second message was a little better.
"I hope all of you are all right. I know that you're probably taking care of everything, Sissy. Just hang in there. I'm in Dallas right now, but, if the weather clears ... I'll be home soon, just as soon as I can be, I promise." said the voice of her uncle on the machine. Sissy could hear airport sounds in the background.
"How soon is soon?" she questioned out loud as she dialed the number to return his call.
Sissy was just a little disappointed when the call rolled over to voice mail again. Then she realized that he was probably in the air and that that was a good thing.
"It's Sissy again. Sorry if my message rattled you. I think Mister French is going to be okay. We stayed with him at the hospital all night last night. And I'm handling things here ... as best as I can. Buffy and Jody are at school ... and I'll be at the hospital probably when you come in ... which I really hope will be soon." she said, hanging up when she had said her piece. She hoped he wouldn't be too worried.
French was still sleeping quite soundly when Sissy, after having a brief conversation with Dolores the day nurse, returned to the hospital room. She smiled a little smugly as she noticed that her absence had been unobserved. Finally taking the opportunity to make herself presentable, she slipped into the bathroom with her overnight bag and changed into fresh clothes. She couldn't believe how terrible she looked after just one night of sleeping in a chair. She had never looked this bad after sleeping on a bus, which she had done on numerous occasions. She did feel better, less tired and more alert, even if she didn't look it.
Sissy, returning from the small bathroom, felt a vague pang of guilt for skipping school and quietly removed her English book from her book bag and settled into her chair to read. She had plowed through a couple of pages of Wordsworth's rather mundane poetry when the door opened.
"Good morning." said Doctor Swenson politely. Sissy could hear sounds of the quiet ward beginning to stir outside: heavy footsteps, gurney wheels squeaking, and muted voices that had not been so noticeably earlier.
"Good morning." Sissy replied, closing her book and watching the doctor at work.
Swenson glanced at the cot, which had been folded up and placed in a corner out of the way.
"Packed the smaller ones off to school then?" he questioned idly, reading through information on his clipboard, notes left for him by the night nurse.
"Yeah, they'll get into less trouble there."
"Quite right." he agreed as he scribbled down a note.
"How is he?" asked Sissy, uncurling herself from the chair and walking to the end of the bed.
"Better than last night." Swenson replied, examining his charts.
"When can he go home then?"
"The concussion ... it is rather serious. I am ordering a couple of additional tests. I can't promise anything." answered the doctor. Sissy looked at him expectantly. "If all the tests are good, tomorrow morning."
Sissy smiled and relaxed a little, telling him, "Great. Our uncle should be back long before then."
Swenson glanced at her and then glanced at French before asking, "Your uncle?"
"Ahhh ... well, my uncle, my brother and sister's uncle. Um, our family life is a little complicated."
"I'll bet." said Swenson with a dry laugh. Looking back at the clipboard for a moment, he asked, "Has the patient been conscious for any period of time? Gladys left that one blank."
"Maybe five minutes or so." shrugged Sissy.
"When?"
"Super early this morning, when it was still dark."
"Was he coherent? Did he sound like himself?"
"Mostly ..."
Doctor Swenson laid the clipboard on the stand by the bed and removed a small penlight from one of his pockets. Shining the light in one eye and then the other, Swenson nodded thoughtfully before tucking the penlight away again.
"Looks good." he said for Sissy's benefit. "Although the response could have been better."
"Better how?"
"Well, his pupils constrict evenly, but it would have been much better if he had grabbed my arm and tried to kill me." shrugged Swenson. "I get a lot of that."
"If you say so." said Sissy, finding his attempt at humor rather weird.
"Are you going to be around today?"
"Until about three o'clock. I have to go pick up Buffy and Jody and swing by the apartment then." she said.
"You are far too dedicated for someone your age." chuckled the doctor as he gathered his things.
"Thanks, I think, but normally I'm trouble ... so I guess I try too hard to make up for it sometimes." said Sissy with a grin.
"Well, whatever the case may be, in my book he's lucky to have you around, and so are your brother and sister." said Swenson as he walked out.
Something in his mind told him to open his eyes, that he could open them now. He didn't want to, but there was that nagging feeling that it was time to get up. He couldn't hear an alarm. It was too quiet. Somewhere faraway he could hear a door closing. Then he felt something warm touch his hand and a sense of pressure, of squeezing. For an instant he felt suddenly anchored, suddenly more aware of things. Someone was waiting for him. No, that wasn't quite right. Someone was waiting with him.
French wrenched his eyes open to discover who it might be that was with him in the fogginess. The world was blurry for a moment. The light in the place of his waking was too bright. And he remembered where he was and wanted nothing more to close his eyes and fade into unconsciousness once more.
"You awake?" asked the concerned voice of his employer's young ward, removing her hand from his.
"Unfortunately." replied French grumpily, turning to look at her.
"You just missed the doctor." Sissy informed him almost reprovingly.
"Did he say anything of note?"
"You might be able to go home tomorrow."
"Good news, I suppose." said French, raising his head and looking at the cast that enveloped a large portion of his left leg. "Although ..." he began to say.
"Don't even start." Sissy interrupted. "Everything is going to be fine." she pressed.
"I would dream of starting." he answered with an amused look.
"Do you want to sit up?" she questioned.
"Please." he responded as she fumbled for the button that raised the head of the bed.
"Say when." she said jokingly.
"Just enough so that I can get out of bed, please." he requested.
"Come on, Mister French! Have you totally not noticed the cast or something?" she asked, releasing the button when they were eye to eye.
"It doesn't hurt ... much." he said, raising an eyebrow.
"Wow. They must have him pumped full of drugs." she thought. "Suit yourself." said Sissy, lowering the safety rail.
French started to ease toward the edge of the bed and stopped. He looked uncomfortable for a moment.
"Perhaps you could step out of the room for a moment? I do not believe this ... garment makes one very presentable." said French, plucking at the sleeve of his hospital gown.
Sissy bit her lip and tried not to laugh as she walked to the foot of the bed, under which she had stashed the bag she had packed for just such an emergency. With much pulling and tugging, she removed the robe, his robe, from the over-packed piece of luggage, shaking out the wrinkles as she stood up.
"Look what I brought." she said, holding it up.
His jaw dropped a little as she held up the burgundy and navy blue striped garment. Sissy never failed to surprise him. And this time it was such a nice surprise for a change.
"I cannot thank you enough." he managed after a moment.
"You could stay in bed." suggested Sissy. "Uncle Bill would so freak if I let you break your other leg." she added.
"A compromise then?"
"I'm listening."
"The chair by the window?" he asked, nodding toward it.
"Great." said Sissy, unable to hide her misgivings.
French suppressed the urge to yell as he swung his legs over the side of the bed. He was suddenly aware of how very broken his leg was. Sissy held the robe up for him and looked away for the sake of the Englishman's modesty. His balance was precarious. French slipped his uninjured arm in first, steadying himself with the sprained appendage as he did so. He was very careful with the other, heavily bandaged hand and arm, allowing Sissy to steady him as he managed to get the arm into the sleeve without disturbing the IV needles.
Sissy turned down the collar of the robe and unobtrusively tied it for him before helping him to the chair a few steps away. He had gone pale again from the effort, but he still looked much more normal wearing some of his own clothes and sitting in a comfortable chair.
"You have my undying gratitude." he said as soon as he caught his breath.
"Yeah, well, that's nice to know, especially since your doctor is probably going have my head for this." replied Sissy.
"I shan't let him. I shall ... I shall hit him with my cast." said French, wincing as his smile caused the stitches to pull slightly. He touched the bandage.
"It doesn't look that bad." said Sissy quickly.
"Thank you." he said, glancing at the cot against the wall. "And where are the holy terrors this morning?" asked French.
"School, of course."
"Ah ... and you elected to remain behind?"
"No, I took them to school myself and dropped by the apartment. You think I just shoved them in a cab?" she asked, crossing her arms and looking rather smug.
"My apologies."
"Uncle Bill left us a couple of messages. He's coming home soon." she explained.
"Today?"
"With any luck. I ... I don't like being in charge." Sissy admitted, glancing out the window.
"That is surprising."
"Oh, don't get me wrong. I do like being in charge of my own life, just not everyone else's. It feels like I'm slowly being crushed."
"Now you know how your uncle feels."
"Yeah, I guess I never realized how hard he has it. Well, both of you." chuckled Sissy.
"All part of the job." answered French, reaching for the literature book that Sissy had left next to her chair. "Though the job has been a bit more challenging of late." he sniffed as he flipped through the pages of the text book. He paused where she had dog-eared a page.
"We're reading English poetry. Wordsworth mostly." she told him.
French glanced at a page, closed the book, and took a deep breath before quoting, "She shall be sportive as the fawn, That wild with glee across the lawn, Or up the mountain springs; And hers shall be the breathing balm, And hers the silence and the calm, Of mute insensate things."
"Wow, not bad for a guy with a pretty serious concussion." she said, resisting the urge to giggle. "Do you have a photographic memory or something?"
"I am well steeped in the classics." he replied.
"So you like this stuff?" she asked, wrinkling her nose slightly.
"And may I assume by your tone and expression that you do not?"
"Well, it isn't exactly my cup of tea, ... but what you just read was ... really cool."
"Poetry was meant to be spoken aloud. This isn't a chemistry book, but I expect you know that." said French, hefting the textbook with one hand before opening it again. "Perhaps I could help you with whatever reading you have been assigned?" he questioned.
Sissy smiled, feeling for the first time as though that everything was going to be all right, and nodded, "Sure, I would like that, Mister French."
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A/N: The poetry is from William Wordsworth's "Three years she grew". I'm not a big fan of Wordsworth, but all my high school and college English teachers were. Anyway, long chapter. I hope someone enjoys it. I had fun writing it. Review?
Simplicity
Sissy slept fitfully until daylight began to pierce the blinds, alerting her to the fact that she had to get the runts to school. It was the responsible thing to do, even though she fully intended to skip herself. The pair, after sleeping on a cot all night, were grumpy and subdued as she sent Jody and then Buffy into the bathroom to freshen up and change clothes. Sissy simply combed her fingers through her hair and reapplied her make-up, anything more would have to wait. French was still fast asleep, and he looked rather peaceful in the misty morning light. She was glad of that. The last thing she wanted was to explain that she planned to return just as soon as the runts were at school. It was always easier to ask for forgiveness than for permission, after all.
"What about Mister French?" asked Jody quietly as she ushered them toward the door.
"If you guys are good at school today and wait with your teacher when school's over, then maybe, just maybe we can all go home tonight." said Sissy, hoping that she wasn't promising them too much, that they wouldn't be disappointed. Her answer seemed to pacify both of them.
As she closed the door to the hospital room behind them, Gladys at the her desk down the hall, waved them over.
"I was just about to come and wake you." she told them with a soft smile.
"Thanks, but I think we've managed." said Sissy. "I'm ... I'm coming back as soon as these two are in school. If French wakes up while I'm out, would you mind telling him that ... I'll be right back?" she questioned.
"I'm on my way out, dear, but I'll let Dolores know the instant I see her." Gladys told her.
"Thanks for everything." said Sissy, meaning every word as she guided the sleepy twins toward the elevator.
"Oh, don't mention it, dear!" the nurse called after them.
After a quiet cab ride to the neighborhood school and a hasty drop off, Sissy glanced at the time and decided to risk a quick pit-stop at the apartment to check the answering machine. She had half expected Uncle Bill to show up at the hospital at the crack of dawn. She had been at least mildly disappointed. But when she saw the light on the answering machine flashing, that was forgotten as she pressed the button and collapsed in a nearby chair.
The first message was a little disheartening. Uncle Bill sounded a lot more worried than she felt that morning. She was still anxious, of course, but everything wrong seemed rightable. The second message was a little better.
"I hope all of you are all right. I know that you're probably taking care of everything, Sissy. Just hang in there. I'm in Dallas right now, but, if the weather clears ... I'll be home soon, just as soon as I can be, I promise." said the voice of her uncle on the machine. Sissy could hear airport sounds in the background.
"How soon is soon?" she questioned out loud as she dialed the number to return his call.
Sissy was just a little disappointed when the call rolled over to voice mail again. Then she realized that he was probably in the air and that that was a good thing.
"It's Sissy again. Sorry if my message rattled you. I think Mister French is going to be okay. We stayed with him at the hospital all night last night. And I'm handling things here ... as best as I can. Buffy and Jody are at school ... and I'll be at the hospital probably when you come in ... which I really hope will be soon." she said, hanging up when she had said her piece. She hoped he wouldn't be too worried.
French was still sleeping quite soundly when Sissy, after having a brief conversation with Dolores the day nurse, returned to the hospital room. She smiled a little smugly as she noticed that her absence had been unobserved. Finally taking the opportunity to make herself presentable, she slipped into the bathroom with her overnight bag and changed into fresh clothes. She couldn't believe how terrible she looked after just one night of sleeping in a chair. She had never looked this bad after sleeping on a bus, which she had done on numerous occasions. She did feel better, less tired and more alert, even if she didn't look it.
Sissy, returning from the small bathroom, felt a vague pang of guilt for skipping school and quietly removed her English book from her book bag and settled into her chair to read. She had plowed through a couple of pages of Wordsworth's rather mundane poetry when the door opened.
"Good morning." said Doctor Swenson politely. Sissy could hear sounds of the quiet ward beginning to stir outside: heavy footsteps, gurney wheels squeaking, and muted voices that had not been so noticeably earlier.
"Good morning." Sissy replied, closing her book and watching the doctor at work.
Swenson glanced at the cot, which had been folded up and placed in a corner out of the way.
"Packed the smaller ones off to school then?" he questioned idly, reading through information on his clipboard, notes left for him by the night nurse.
"Yeah, they'll get into less trouble there."
"Quite right." he agreed as he scribbled down a note.
"How is he?" asked Sissy, uncurling herself from the chair and walking to the end of the bed.
"Better than last night." Swenson replied, examining his charts.
"When can he go home then?"
"The concussion ... it is rather serious. I am ordering a couple of additional tests. I can't promise anything." answered the doctor. Sissy looked at him expectantly. "If all the tests are good, tomorrow morning."
Sissy smiled and relaxed a little, telling him, "Great. Our uncle should be back long before then."
Swenson glanced at her and then glanced at French before asking, "Your uncle?"
"Ahhh ... well, my uncle, my brother and sister's uncle. Um, our family life is a little complicated."
"I'll bet." said Swenson with a dry laugh. Looking back at the clipboard for a moment, he asked, "Has the patient been conscious for any period of time? Gladys left that one blank."
"Maybe five minutes or so." shrugged Sissy.
"When?"
"Super early this morning, when it was still dark."
"Was he coherent? Did he sound like himself?"
"Mostly ..."
Doctor Swenson laid the clipboard on the stand by the bed and removed a small penlight from one of his pockets. Shining the light in one eye and then the other, Swenson nodded thoughtfully before tucking the penlight away again.
"Looks good." he said for Sissy's benefit. "Although the response could have been better."
"Better how?"
"Well, his pupils constrict evenly, but it would have been much better if he had grabbed my arm and tried to kill me." shrugged Swenson. "I get a lot of that."
"If you say so." said Sissy, finding his attempt at humor rather weird.
"Are you going to be around today?"
"Until about three o'clock. I have to go pick up Buffy and Jody and swing by the apartment then." she said.
"You are far too dedicated for someone your age." chuckled the doctor as he gathered his things.
"Thanks, I think, but normally I'm trouble ... so I guess I try too hard to make up for it sometimes." said Sissy with a grin.
"Well, whatever the case may be, in my book he's lucky to have you around, and so are your brother and sister." said Swenson as he walked out.
Something in his mind told him to open his eyes, that he could open them now. He didn't want to, but there was that nagging feeling that it was time to get up. He couldn't hear an alarm. It was too quiet. Somewhere faraway he could hear a door closing. Then he felt something warm touch his hand and a sense of pressure, of squeezing. For an instant he felt suddenly anchored, suddenly more aware of things. Someone was waiting for him. No, that wasn't quite right. Someone was waiting with him.
French wrenched his eyes open to discover who it might be that was with him in the fogginess. The world was blurry for a moment. The light in the place of his waking was too bright. And he remembered where he was and wanted nothing more to close his eyes and fade into unconsciousness once more.
"You awake?" asked the concerned voice of his employer's young ward, removing her hand from his.
"Unfortunately." replied French grumpily, turning to look at her.
"You just missed the doctor." Sissy informed him almost reprovingly.
"Did he say anything of note?"
"You might be able to go home tomorrow."
"Good news, I suppose." said French, raising his head and looking at the cast that enveloped a large portion of his left leg. "Although ..." he began to say.
"Don't even start." Sissy interrupted. "Everything is going to be fine." she pressed.
"I would dream of starting." he answered with an amused look.
"Do you want to sit up?" she questioned.
"Please." he responded as she fumbled for the button that raised the head of the bed.
"Say when." she said jokingly.
"Just enough so that I can get out of bed, please." he requested.
"Come on, Mister French! Have you totally not noticed the cast or something?" she asked, releasing the button when they were eye to eye.
"It doesn't hurt ... much." he said, raising an eyebrow.
"Wow. They must have him pumped full of drugs." she thought. "Suit yourself." said Sissy, lowering the safety rail.
French started to ease toward the edge of the bed and stopped. He looked uncomfortable for a moment.
"Perhaps you could step out of the room for a moment? I do not believe this ... garment makes one very presentable." said French, plucking at the sleeve of his hospital gown.
Sissy bit her lip and tried not to laugh as she walked to the foot of the bed, under which she had stashed the bag she had packed for just such an emergency. With much pulling and tugging, she removed the robe, his robe, from the over-packed piece of luggage, shaking out the wrinkles as she stood up.
"Look what I brought." she said, holding it up.
His jaw dropped a little as she held up the burgundy and navy blue striped garment. Sissy never failed to surprise him. And this time it was such a nice surprise for a change.
"I cannot thank you enough." he managed after a moment.
"You could stay in bed." suggested Sissy. "Uncle Bill would so freak if I let you break your other leg." she added.
"A compromise then?"
"I'm listening."
"The chair by the window?" he asked, nodding toward it.
"Great." said Sissy, unable to hide her misgivings.
French suppressed the urge to yell as he swung his legs over the side of the bed. He was suddenly aware of how very broken his leg was. Sissy held the robe up for him and looked away for the sake of the Englishman's modesty. His balance was precarious. French slipped his uninjured arm in first, steadying himself with the sprained appendage as he did so. He was very careful with the other, heavily bandaged hand and arm, allowing Sissy to steady him as he managed to get the arm into the sleeve without disturbing the IV needles.
Sissy turned down the collar of the robe and unobtrusively tied it for him before helping him to the chair a few steps away. He had gone pale again from the effort, but he still looked much more normal wearing some of his own clothes and sitting in a comfortable chair.
"You have my undying gratitude." he said as soon as he caught his breath.
"Yeah, well, that's nice to know, especially since your doctor is probably going have my head for this." replied Sissy.
"I shan't let him. I shall ... I shall hit him with my cast." said French, wincing as his smile caused the stitches to pull slightly. He touched the bandage.
"It doesn't look that bad." said Sissy quickly.
"Thank you." he said, glancing at the cot against the wall. "And where are the holy terrors this morning?" asked French.
"School, of course."
"Ah ... and you elected to remain behind?"
"No, I took them to school myself and dropped by the apartment. You think I just shoved them in a cab?" she asked, crossing her arms and looking rather smug.
"My apologies."
"Uncle Bill left us a couple of messages. He's coming home soon." she explained.
"Today?"
"With any luck. I ... I don't like being in charge." Sissy admitted, glancing out the window.
"That is surprising."
"Oh, don't get me wrong. I do like being in charge of my own life, just not everyone else's. It feels like I'm slowly being crushed."
"Now you know how your uncle feels."
"Yeah, I guess I never realized how hard he has it. Well, both of you." chuckled Sissy.
"All part of the job." answered French, reaching for the literature book that Sissy had left next to her chair. "Though the job has been a bit more challenging of late." he sniffed as he flipped through the pages of the text book. He paused where she had dog-eared a page.
"We're reading English poetry. Wordsworth mostly." she told him.
French glanced at a page, closed the book, and took a deep breath before quoting, "She shall be sportive as the fawn, That wild with glee across the lawn, Or up the mountain springs; And hers shall be the breathing balm, And hers the silence and the calm, Of mute insensate things."
"Wow, not bad for a guy with a pretty serious concussion." she said, resisting the urge to giggle. "Do you have a photographic memory or something?"
"I am well steeped in the classics." he replied.
"So you like this stuff?" she asked, wrinkling her nose slightly.
"And may I assume by your tone and expression that you do not?"
"Well, it isn't exactly my cup of tea, ... but what you just read was ... really cool."
"Poetry was meant to be spoken aloud. This isn't a chemistry book, but I expect you know that." said French, hefting the textbook with one hand before opening it again. "Perhaps I could help you with whatever reading you have been assigned?" he questioned.
Sissy smiled, feeling for the first time as though that everything was going to be all right, and nodded, "Sure, I would like that, Mister French."
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A/N: The poetry is from William Wordsworth's "Three years she grew". I'm not a big fan of Wordsworth, but all my high school and college English teachers were. Anyway, long chapter. I hope someone enjoys it. I had fun writing it. Review?