Chapter 24

Charlie almost did rip out his own IV the next morning, but between Don and Alan, they kept him from going over the edge while he waited for the doctor, who finally showed up at 10:30 and released him, with strict aftercare instructions. He wouldn't resume physical therapy until after the Thanksgiving holiday, which, Alan was startled to realize, was only a week away. Between Thanksgiving and Hannukkah, he was scheduled for the skin graft to his upper arm — it was important that he rebuild some strength before then. The doctor would not entertain a discussion about work until after Charlie had recovered from that operation — but most of that was volunteered information. Alan noticed that Charlie still didn't ask for many details, himself.

It was almost an hour after that before the floor nurse had time to disconnect Charlie and help him get ready to go, in a pair of sweats and a t-shirt. Charlie and Don kept sending Alan to the car with all that had accumulated in the room in the last three weeks. "I'm coming home tomorrow," Don reminded him. "Might as well take part of this stuff today!" He gave his father a look. "And remind that nurse I want this bed cleared out of here as soon as Charlie is gone."

Charlie looked a little hurt at that, so Don tried to make it up to him. "It's just that it'll make me lonely, Buddy. I'll keep waiting for you to come back from the sun room."

"Right," said Charlie. "Absolutely."

Don grinned. "Seriously, Chuck, I asked for you to be here. And now you're leaving me. Again. No Chuck, no bed. Is that so unreasonable?"

Charlie looked at Don.

"Don't call me Chuck."

…………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………

A tiny star shone its light over Don.

This day, his last in the hospital, was also Cecile's day off.

Alan was free to spend the entire afternoon settling Charlie — and three weeks' worth of hospital gifts — at home. Cecile arrived at the hospital around 2 to spend the rest of the day with Don. She sat in the chair nearest the bed, and tried to teach him how to knit. When she became frightened about his frustration level and what he might do with the knitting needle, they switched to 5-card draw poker. She went to the cafeteria, came back, and they shared a mid-afternoon ice cream snack. They celebrated Don's imminent homegoing with pizza around 5:30. At 7, Megan appeared in the doorway, rolling some luggage behind her. She waved at Don and asked Cecile to help her in the bathroom.

Cecile thought that was a little odd. Megan didn't even come all the way into the room. She looked at Don, and he shrugged, looked away quickly.

Suspicious, Cecile joined Megan, who shut the door behind them and opened her luggage. Out came a make-up kit, which she put on the counter. Then, some hair supplies and a dryer joined it. Next, she shook out a slinky black dress and hung it on the hook on the door. A pair of silver, strappy heels followed. Megan brought out a pair of large fluffy towels, a disposable razor and some body gel. She looked at Cecile.

Cecile looked back.

"I won't look," Megan finally said. "I'll just sit here on the floor and wait for awhile." She reached into the luggage one last time and brought out a novel. "I'm prepared. After your shower, I'll help you with hair, and make-up, if you want." Megan reached for the switch on the wall. "We'd better turn the fan on, so the mirror doesn't fog up."

Cecile found her voice. "What is this?"

Megan smiled. "All Don's idea. Right down to the interrogation of your fellow nurses, to find out what sizes you wore. Had a lot of people asking to borrow things in the last week?"

Cecile shook her head, overwhelmed, and fingered the dress. "He…bought me this?"

Megan nodded. "Technically. Actually, I picked it out, since he's — indisposed, at the moment. I hope it's okay."

Cecile thought she might cry. "It's…beautiful. You people are so…good to each other…"

Megan pointed to the shower stall. "Better hurry. You ain't seen nothing, yet."

…………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………

Forty-five minutes later, Megan stepped back and admired her handiwork.

Cecile's hair was just long enough for an upsweep — she kept it that way so it could be easily pulled back into a pony tail for work. Megan was loaning her the dangling diamond earrings she had received for Christmas last year. The dress was a halter, and Megan had lightly dusted Cecile's bare shoulders with a glitter powder. They had gone all-out with make-up — much more than either woman usually wore, but Megan insisted that this was a special occasion.

"Oh! I almost forgot!" Megan reached into the luggage again and came out with a half-full bottle of Vanilla Fields. "I hope this is okay."

Cecile regarded the bottle. "Is that mine? I actually own some of that — I just don't get much of a chance to wear it. We try to keep the hospital scent-free — for obvious reasons."

Megan smiled. "Actually, it's mine. Great minds, and all that."

Cecile took the bottle and sprayed on a light scent. She looked in the mirror again. She felt as if she were going to the prom. She hadn't figured out what was going on — they'd already had pizza for dinner… She looked nervously at Megan. "What now?"

Megan looked at her watch. "We wait. It shouldn't be long."

"I hope not. It's hot in here. All this hard work could melt off my face."

Megan smiled. She had Cecile turn around for her one last time for a final check, and then turned off all the lights. Cecile could hear her crack the door open. Not much light came in from the hospital room proper, either — but the rush of air was a tremendous relief. Cecile waited.

And waited.

Shifted on the unfamiliar heels, and waited some more.

Later, she would say she waited longer than it took to get ready, but everyone insisted she was crazy. Given the dream she had suddenly found herself living, she had to agree that it was a distinct possibility.

Finally, certain she was mistaken, she heard the faint strains of a violin. It sounded like Brahms. She started when Megan grabbed her wrist in the darkness. "That's our cue," the agent said, and Cecile felt Megan sidle around behind her and place both hands on her bare shoulders. Megan spoke into her ear. "Go ahead — walk on out."

Now that it was time, Cecile almost didn't want to do it. She took a deep breath, and pushed the door open.

The room was dimly light with the glow of candles. She could see that there were dozens, on every available surface; candles of every description. She shuddered to think what the DNS would say about fire safety if she could see this. When her eyes grew more accustomed to the light, she saw the source of the music — a lone violinist. An actual person, with a violin. Not a CD, or the radio…Cecile walked by him in semi-shock, to Don's bed.

"Stop there," she heard him say softly as she reached the end of it, so she did. "Please turn around for me." Embarassed, she was glad of the candlelight as she pirouetted for him. "You're…stunning," he whispered. "Magnificent." Cecile was sure that she would die on the spot, listening to the tenderness in Don's voice. "These are for you," he said, and Cecile came closer to the head of the bed. He handed her what looked to be, in the dark, a dozen long-stemmed roses. Cecile buried her nose in them.

"Thank you," she whispered, almost unable to find her voice. "Thank you."

Relieved of the flowers, Don reached to the rolling table, now at the other side of the bed, and lifted a filled champagne glass. He offered it to Cecile, who shifted the flowers and accepted it. Then Don lifted another from the table for himself, and lifted it toward her in a toast. "To the most beautiful woman in the world."

Cecile knew she was blushing, as she clinked her glass with his and raised it to her mouth. The slight lifting of her head refocused the direction of her eyes, though, and she almost dropped everything. Standing in the farthest, darkest corner of the room, neatly in a row in matching tuxedos, were Alan, Larry, Colby, David — and her brother, Andrew. "Oh!" She pushed her knees into the bedframe to steady herself, and couldn't think of anything else to say, but didn't stop another "Oh!" from escaping.

Don laughed and took the glass from her, and felt her hand shaking. He set the glass down and touched her hand again. "It's all right. They've all had their shots."

Cecile lowered her gaze to Don, again. This time she really was speechless.

He smiled. "I wanted to take you dancing. You deserve to go dancing. This is the best I could do. I got some pinch dancers."

Cecile raised her free hand to her eye, sorry to lose the contact of Don's fingers, but caving in to necessity. Megan had put a lot of mascara on there, and she was not going through this…this absolute, incredible fantasy…as a raccoon.

The violinist segued into "Moonlight Seranade", and Alan approached her out of the darkness, smiling broadly. "You are a vision," he said, and held out an arm. "May I have this dance?"

Cecile lowered the roses back onto Don's lap, leaning over to kiss him briefly on the lips. "I love you," she whispered into his ear. When she straightened again, Megan was waiting to hand Don a camera. She briefly hugged Cecile. "Pose for pictures before everybody leaves. Charlie will want to see this." She smiled at Alan. "I'm off to see him now, so take your time." She melted into the background then, and there was a brief flash of light as she opened the door into the hospital corridor.

When the door had closed, and she was surrounded by candlelight again, Cecile walked around the bed to meet Alan. She placed one hand on his shoulder, the other on an arm he crooked around her waist, and she waltzed into the best date of her life.