- Chapter 2 -
Albert was having a secret reunion with George Johnson. George was relieved that Albert had finally surfaced, alive and well. It was the happiest day of his life. It was also the happiest day of Elroy's life too, even thought she tried to remain stoic and impervious when she was told the news.
They were seated in Albert's private office located on the top floor of the Andley, Inc. home office. The Andley empire was vast and diversified, a conglomerate that was composed of individual corporations in the shipping, mining, railroad, real estate, banking and food industries. Their peers included the Carnegies, the Morgans, the Astors, the Rockefellers, and the Guggenheims. Starting with William's father and much to the chagrin of Elroy, the Leegans and other relatives, a quarter of the profits of the corporation were funneled into charity and philanthropy works…and in keeping with his father's style, William also kept these vast donations unpublished. Ostentation and self-promotion was not their style. The Andley's also held large or majority interests in public companies, such as newly founded Ford Motor and General Electric companies; though Andley, Inc. was private and shares bequeathed or granted given to family members only. However, there was only one majority owner, and one man with the absolute power to run the empire, one man who held the reins and the keys, one man whose word overrode anybody else's. And that man was William Albert Andley.
From a young age, Albert had known the tremendous responsibility that was going to be saddled on his shoulders as soon as he was of age. After Rosemary's passing, he had declared his intention to Elroy and George of seeing some of the world and doing as he pleased before assuming the leadership of the family and the businesses. Elroy was horrified, she wanted nothing to do with this foolishness, she had said. "You know what your duty is William, and you must not shirk to go out on larks that are a waste of time!"
But George had intervened, saying, "He will become a better manager if he is allowed to see a bit of the world and to realize how his wealth and power can be a blessing…" Elroy, despite not fully liking George, since he had been a foster child of her brother's, thought that George had a point and had acceded. What she had not grasped was the secret message George had imbedded in that pronouncement. "You see, young Master William…" George told Albert later, "you probably think of your responsibility and your wealth as a curse, a duty that you would rather do without…but consider this…your power and wealth can be used to change people's lives in a positive way…your companies employ hundreds of people, allowing them to feel fulfilled and raise families…and by works of charity, by philanthropy…the Andley family's generosity can change thousands of lives…or even if it changes one, as it was with me…then you would have made a lasting impact on the world…"
That had been a revelation to Albert, who then viewed his position in an entire new light. That went more hand in hand with his own nature and temperament.
"Well, know you know the whole story…" Albert concluded his tale of the last hours of Terry's ordeal to George "before Terry reappeared I was ready to leave Candy, because I suspect she is having some problems with the apartment landlady…but now with Terry's situation, I don't know what we are going to do. He's got nowhere to go and not a penny to his name…and of course, Candy wants to take care of him personally."
George started to observe, "Well, this is going to be a hard one to handle…which is ironic, any of the Andley mansions in Chicago can be used…but…".
"I know…there are a few things to consider: First, that she would accept the help, and of which I am positive that she won't; and second, even if she did accept, Elroy is going to say no…" Albert mused, tapping his right index finger against his right cheekbone.
"Perhaps it is time that you present yourself before Candy as whom you really are…you would solve a few open ends at once." George suggested.
They both partook of the tea service that had been brought up by the office valet.
"Quite so…although it remains to be seen how Candy and Terry decide what to do next. I was convinced that they had taken the right decision, a decision I probably would have taken, with the Suzanne Marlowe incident…but having seen with my own eyes what has happened to Terry, I no longer believe in that. George, please contact our people in New York and have them discreetly find out what's become of her. I cannot believe that these people, after all that has transpired, insist on marriage. It is absurd. There is no moral or gentlemen's code that says that a man has to put himself in such a state for someone that he does not love. Besides, there have been plenty of advances with prosthetics, I believe Columbia hospital in New York has done much to advance the field…" Albert's quick mind was going to many destinations at once at the same time.
"Very well, William…but.." George demurred.
"Yes…back to the situation at hand. I have to think this through, George…if this is the catalytic event for me to present myself or…"
"Or?"
"Or perhaps you, in the name of the "Great Uncle William", you offer to Miss Candy a new apartment with three bedrooms…at least we can keep it out of sight of the other Andley family members and I could still help Candy out with the cooking and clearing…" Albert thought that this was a great idea…to have been able to live with Candy thus had been the happiest time of his life and he was loathe to give it up.
"Sir William…do you really think she is going to accept? We both know that she "quit" being an Andley. And if she does accept, is it really necessary for you to do housework? Isn't it a better idea to hire some help?" George always admired Albert's down to earth attitude. He knew it was one way Albert tried to maintain himself grounded and to allow a bit of normalcy in his life.
"Come now, George…you know me far too well." It was the first time Albert had smiled all afternoon.
"Most times I believe I do, although at times you do astound me, William…on second thought, perhaps there will always be the problem of appearances if you do not present yourself to her as who you really are…imagine, Sir: she's an unmarried underage woman, living with two men, one of them her one time sweetheart and possible husband under other circumstances, the other an 'unknown' amnesic who was/is her patient and is passing himself off as her brother…" George said.
"hmmmm….I guess if I really come clean as her adopter, everything will be taken care of, eh?" Albert hedged.
"Not only that, if she knows you are William Albert Andley, she would probably desist not wanting to be an Andley…"
"Very well…let me think about it one more day, George…let's move on to something else…I am very satisfied with the decisions that have been made in my absence with the companies. You are invaluable George, and I do not know what I would do without you…not even in Harvard1 did I receive the level of experience and education you have provided me…" Albert praised heartily.
George was very touched with the commendation from the only person he considered his family and for whom he was willing to give his life for. "William…Albert…you know that you are my only family and that your well being is my priority. I was so worried about you! But I do have a question…in regards to young Master Grandchester…" George was still flabbergasted that the young, haughty aristocrat, The Duke of Grandchester's eldest son, who had so offend Candy on the Mauretania, was William Albert's friend, and moreover, was Candy's love.
"Yes, George?"
"Should we notify the Duke?" George inquired.
Albert stood up and went towards the large window in his office. The Andley, Inc. Headquarters was located on Michigan Avenue in Chicago, in the area known as the Magnificent Mile. From there, he could view Lake Michigan without any obstruction. His gaze was lost there, in the infinite stretch of the lake, while he pondered Terry's situation.
"That is a touchy subject, George. When I was in London, he let me know, in his own way of course, since he is quite a reserved and brooding chap; that he did not get along with his father. I daresay Candy would know more about this. I figure that if he's here working as an actor and not in England doing his father's will, that means that all is not well between them. But, to be honest, that's just my own speculation. I have to admit I am not sure and to be frank, I don't dare contact the Duke's counsel or the Duke himself without Terry's knowledge….in any case, ask our agents in London to find out if the Duke is searching for his son or not." Albert finally responded.
"As you wish, William…"
It was Terry's third evening in the home clinic. He was resting and Candy was helping Albert set the table for dinner. Candy had Terry on a liquid diet, so Albert had cooked up another of his wonderful soups.
Terry took some time to observe the place where he was. It was a home clinic, towards the rear was Dr. Martin's living space. Everything was very humble, but impeccably kept, despite the structure's ramshackle condition. He noted that the furniture was a mix of different styles; no doubt it had been donated or was second hand. There was the bed where he was laying down on, an exam table, several cabinets with medical supplies and medicines, a desk, a file cabinet, several chairs and a small round table. Sometimes it looked more like a family's front parlor than a clinic, save for the various medical posters displayed. There were also several jugs with wildflowers that cheered up the place considerably. "That is her touch…" he noted. He took up "A Boy's Will" and started turning pages. Even though he knew all of them by heart, there was always something comforting about going over a beloved book. Suddenly, he saw over the top edge her eyes gazing at him.
"Terry, I didn't know that you read poetry…I thought you were only into Shakespeare." she said, gently taking the book from him. He could never tire of looking at her.
Terry smiled fondly at her. "So now you know…I am a bag of surprises…I've always loved poetry…besides I had the honor of meeting Robert personally…sometimes we would meet in the same pub…now that I remember…I think Albert also met him…right Albert?" Terry called out.
"Yes….eh?" Albert asked. He had not been paying attention to Candy and Terry's discussion. The soup was almost ready and he gave it one last stir.
"Don't you remember Frosty?"
"Frosty?" Albert was trying to jag his memory.
"Frosty…Bob Frosty…"
"Oh! You mean Robert Frost?" Albert replied, finally figuring out who Terry was talking about. Robert Frost was an American who had just moved to London in 1912 and had started publishing poetry in 1913. He was very jovial and he and Terry would spend hours discussing Shakespeare, prose and verse. Albert, who did not have Terry's and Robert's gift of presenting poetry but loved to read literature, was more than happy to listen to them go on for hours.
"Terry, you have the worst habit of giving nicknames to everyone you run into!" Candy scolded, her eyes disagreeing with his.
Terry smiled, since he did not dare laugh out loud due to his healing wound. "Come now, Candy, don't get mad with me…our language is so adjective rich, it would be shame not to use them…isn't Robert a genius?" he said to Albert.
"Of course…how could I forget…especially how he describes mother nature and man's nature…" Albert replied. Robert Frost was a kindred spirit to him.
"Are we just going to sit around and talk about poetry or is someone going to recite something? How about you, Grandchester, aren't you the most likely candidate?" Dr. Martin said, entering the discussion, busy with one of his wire puzzles. Candy laughed inside…that was Dr. Martin's way of saying that he wanted to see Terry in action.
Terry looked at Candy affectionately. She was flipping through the poetry book. "Why don't you read us one, Candy?" he asked lovingly. Terry had a deep yearning to hear her voice.
"Oh…me, read poetry? I'm terrible…and I usually don't understand them…" she excused.
"That's because you had terrible teachers…" he started.
"Well, then, blame the nuns at St. Paul's…" she came back.
"Blame them for that and other things as well…why don't you choose one, read it for us and then I will help you understand it…is that alright? What do you think Albert, Dr. Martin?" Terry asked.
"It would be nice to while away dinner." Albert said.
"Very well, very well!" Candy sighed, feeling pressured. She started turning pages, trying to find one to read. She finally found one that didn't seem too long. She cleared her voice and started reading nervously.
"NowIoutwalkingtheworlddesertandmy…"
Terry stopped her. "Whoa! Wait up Candy! Please read the title and remind us who wrote the piece…and when you read, used the grammatical construction to help you make the pauses…read it slowly…" he said, his voice breaking. Candy thought his throat was parched. "Here, have a drink of water…you are a bit dehydrated…" she said, always taking care of him.
Terry did as she asked, grateful….but it was not that his throat was dry.
Satisfied that Terry had a drink of water, Candy started to read again, trying to keep in mind what Terry had suggested.
Away, By Robert Frost
Now I out walking
The world desert,
And my shoe and my stocking
Do me no hurt.
I leave behind
Good friends in town.
Let them get well-wined
And go lie down.
Don't think I leave
For the outer dark
Like Adam and Eve
Put out of the Park
Forget the myth
There is no one I
Am put out with
Or put out by.
Unless I'm wrong
I but obey
The urge of a song:
"I'm — bound-away!"
And I may return
If dissatisfied
With what I learn
From having died"
"Very well, Candy, very nice…" Terry said, still surprised that of all the ones in the book, she had chosen the one, the very one he loved the most and that gave him hurtful pangs every time he thought about it. He left this thought aside and asked her, "Now tell me, and don't think about it too much, what is the first thing that comes to your mind about this poem?"
"Hmm….well, we are talking about someone who is saying goodbye because they are going on a long journey…" she mused.
"Yes, and why are they going on a journey?"
"Ehhhh….mmmmmm …." She wondered out loud. She didn't have a clue.
"Let me help you…is there someone else coming along?"
"No…the person is going alone…see, here it says that all the friends are left behind…" she said.
"And why is the person going alone?"
"mmmmm….."
"what's the motive?" Terry prodded.
"no…there is no motive…but…" Candy stopped.
"but what?"
"…the person is leaving, going away, because of something, because…" Candy read the lines over. Suddenly, she realized "Oh! This person is suffering! Living in such loneliness that even the entire world is nothing but a desert, nothing can quench his parched soul…he's looking for the only thing that will alleviate it, that is why he is going on a journey, but…but for him it is as if he walking dead!". Candy was very satisfied with herself and looked at Terry, seeking his approval. But when her eyes met his, she saddened right away. True, he was proudly looking at her, but there was a profound wretchedness there, as if Candy had peered into his deepest feelings. He didn't have to say it, because as it was with them, she could just tell by looking at him.
"What a lovely poem, eh? Could you possibly pick something more depressing, Candy? Didn't you say that this Frosty fellow elevates nature?" Dr. Martin chided, taking another piece of bread.
Terry snapped out of his doldrums and patted Candy's hand so that she would not feel distressed. As usual, he switched his moods immediately. "You see Candy, Dr. Martin doesn't remember the poet's given name but has no trouble remembering his nickname…Don't worry, Dr. Martin, you'll soon see why Albert and I speak so highly of him." Terry said. Candy felt better to see Terry cheered up. It never ceased to amaze her how Terry could change moods so quickly.
Terry announced, "Let me recite a poem more appropriate to our season."
"Recite? What, you are not going to read it?" asked Dr. Martin, incredulous.
"No way, Dr. Martin, Terry knows many things by heart…I've heard him so many times…" Albert said, helping himself to more of his savory soup.
Candy turned to look at Albert "Really?" She didn't say it because she doubted Terry's capacity for such things, she already knew what he was capable of. She said it because Albert had enjoyed it many more times than she had.
"Candy, who do you think I am? A good actor has to know many things by heart…" Terry said.
Candy didn't know what to do; Terry's stare was making her shudder nervously. "I…I guess so…let me go get dinner for you…" she offered.
Terry sat up a bit, took another drink of water and started. "We are in spring, a beautiful time of year, a time when the Earth clothes itself in green pastures again, adorning itself with flowers as a lady would with beautiful gems. Everything is fresh, everything is new, the air caresses us with warm kisses and baptizes us with celestial showers, renewing everything in sight…Spring! A time for love, a time for hope, and with great pleasure and honor I will recite for you A Prayer in Spring, by Robert Frost."
Upon hearing Terry's voice with the first words, Candy, Albert and Dr. Martin stood still, in awe. Even though he was weak and was speaking from a semi reclined pose, his forceful voice, his English accent with deep velvety tones, his feeling and the clarity of his enunciation had cast a spell on them. Dr. Martin, who had never heard him, understood immediately why the young man had become so famous in such a short amount of time. Albert, who had already heard him many times, never ceased to be amazed by Terry's transformation when he assumed his actor's role. And Candy, for whom the voice was so beloved, Candy could feel her skin goose bump and she shivered slightly. She remembered when she saw him as the King of France in King Lear and how proud she felt. Even though he was convalescing from a knife wound, that he still wasn't fully well and that he looked disheveled, Terry still commanded a presence, a presence that was being projected in its entire splendor. He was no longer the insolent youth she had met in St. Paul's; he was a man, a man fully in charge of his gifts.
A Prayer in Spring, by Robert Frost
"OH, give us pleasure in the flowers to-day;
And give us not to think so far away
As the uncertain harvest; keep us here
All simply in the springing of the year
Oh, give us pleasure in the orchard white,
Like nothing else by day, like ghosts by night;
And make us happy in the happy bees,
The swarm dilating round the perfect trees.
And make us happy in the darting bird
That suddenly above the bees is heard
The meteor that thrusts in with needle bill,
And off a blossom in mid air stands still.
For this is love and nothing else is, Love,
The which it is reserved for God above
To sanctify to what far ends He will
But which it only needs that we fulfill…"
Eleanor Baker was desperate. She did not know what was the cause or the reason for her son's disappearance. She just had the slight suspicion that some sort of crisis in his personal life had come about in the aftermath of Suzanne's accident. The few times that they had exchanged words since he had returned from London were mere pleasantries and always furtive. She could not believe what she read in the papers, about him and Suzanne. No. That girl, Suzanne, whom she knew about since they moved in the same theatrical circle, could not be anything more than a colleague. She knew perfectly well that her son loved Candy, even when he had never told his mother. The way he looked at when Candy chanced upon them in Scotland and her maternal instinct told her so. In all this mess there was something that she did not understand, and that was what she was positive had to do with her son's disappearance. She was sure of that.
Eleanor had retained the services of a private investigator to try and find Terry, because she had the dreadful feeling that her son was in danger and wasn't well. The days seemed to go by so slow, not knowing. She was willing to block out her schedule which was full of rehearsals, plays and social gatherings in order to find him. But the days had turned into weeks and the weeks had turned into a couple of months.
"Oh, my son, where are you? Where?" she murmured. She was in her sitting room in the master bedroom of her house, wondering where Terry could have gone to. As it was with the rest of her house, it was decorated in the nascent Art Deco style.
"Madame…" her maid, Tinette announced discreetly "Mr. Watson is here to see you."
Eleanor immediately stood up. Watson was the man she had contracted with to find Terry. "I shall see him at once, please see him to the study…" she said. Tinette assented and carried out her mistress' orders.
Eleanor Baker, who despite being closer to 40 than to the 25 years she appeared to have, got ready and went to speak with Watson.
"Madame Baker…" Watson greeted the famous actress very cordially. He was a good looking and well dressed man belied his years as a hardened homicide detective of the NYPD. He was retired but still took private investigator jobs for certain people, generally those with the means and looking for discretion.
"Watson…I trust that you have some news…" she said, trying to keep her voice level. She yearned to hear something positive.
"Well, we are not sure, Madame…but we believe that Terrence Grandchester is in Chicago and has been for the last few days…he has not moved on from there."
"Chicago? Why Chicago?" Eleanor asked. She did not know Candy lived there. "The only thing about Chicago is that his company presented a benefit of King Lear there, about a year and a half ago…he was only there for a couple of days" she said.
"Who knows, Madame, why Chicago and not another city. The railroad agent was positive he purchased a one way ticket. He also said that the young man was…how can I put it to you…was in a very liquor induced state."
"Are you certain?" Eleanor saddened at this but she maintained her stoic, dignified face.
"Very…" Watson assured.
"Then we leave for Chicago immediately. I am ready to cancel all my appointments at a moments notice…Terrence is my priority right now…" Eleanor declared. Watson had her complete trust.
"Of course, Madame, as you wish. I am prepared to go with you when you are ready. However, there is one other thing…"
"What other thing?" Eleanor was a bit tiffed at this; she thought Watson had told her everything he had to say.
"Aren't you going to notify Miss Marlowe? The papers say she is Terrence Grandchester's fiancée." Watson did not know what the relationship with Eleanor and Terrence was. There was a rumour in the theatre circles that she was in fact the mother of the young actor, but Watson had never been able to confirm that. Part of his work as an investigator was to find out everything about everybody involved in a case he took. He did not have to look very deep to find a lot of information about Suzanne Marlowe.
"No...I assure you that if she really is Terrence's fiancée, I do not wish to raise false hopes for her. Nobody has to know what I am about to do. Is that clear?" Eleanor said, firmly.
"Yes Madame, it is clear. Very clear."
It was the fourth day. Terry had been able to forget what troubled him in New York; and it was thanks to her. Now that she was there with him, his depression and desperation had left. For the time being, he didn't want to have to think about what had happened and what was to come. He was totally happy with the day by day and how wonderful it was to be with her.
She devotedly watched over him. For the last few days, she tried to rest or sleep when he was doing the same. Sometimes, in her vigil, she prayed the rosary, dedicating her prayers to Terry, to Stear, to Suzanne, to Albert, everyone at Pony's Home, and for herself…she wanted to be able to draw strength and resolve every day. She found a lot of comfort in praying, it helped her mediate and it took her to an ethereal plane of tranquility.
Terry was still immobilized and Dr. Martin had to share his home clinic with them. Albert had been very involved as well, bringing or cooking food and telling stories of his various trips to pass the time in the evenings. Sometimes Terry drowsily would enjoy listening to Albert's tales. At times, when Candy wasn't noticing, he would hear her praying her rosary and he also found it strangely calming for him. His soul would follow along with her whispered prayers and the mute banging of the beads. He, who had never been religious, had to admit that Candy's earnest fervor was admirable.
Other times he would watch Candy work with Dr. Martin. It was the first time he had seen her in action and he was very proud of her. He knew right there and then that she had made the best career choice. Although, something bothered him…he thought Candy was working at St. Joan's when they broke up…what happened? Why wasn't she there anymore?
That morning the young man with the kidney problem had returned to hear the full diagnosis.
"You have a very severe infection in your kidneys…you will have to stop working for a while and go to bed rest immediately. I will prescribe the medicines you will need to take. If you don't do it, you will have kidney failure, your blood will become poisoned and you will die". Dr. Martin cut to the chase.
"But Doctor…you don't understand…I can't stop working! I have a duty with my family!"
"Do you have wax in your ears, kid? I told you that you have to put yourself first, not your duty!" Dr. Martin's voice was starting to get loud.
"Dr. Martin, can I have a word with the patient?" Candy asked.
"Sure…I am going to go out for a bit…to get some supplies…I'm sure having a lot of luck with donations these days…we need to be prepared in case we get another poor bastard like Terry in here." he said, heading towards the door. He looked over at his other patient and winked. He had been very touched to witness the deep relationship between his nurse and her beloved.
Terry waved at him and then looked over at Candy, who was with the young man. The meatpacker had started crying. "He doesn't understand…I cannot stop working…"
Candy, who didn't realize Terry's gaze upon her, put her arm around the youth's shoulder's and said "Let me tell you a story…I was working at St. Joan's hospital and I was very happy there, feeling like I was making a valuable contribution. But one day someone who does not appreciate me, who wanted to force me to do something that I wasn't going to do made sure I got thrown out of my job there and barred me from getting a job anywhere else in the Chicago area. I felt like my world was turned on its head…I had the responsibility of my apartment payments and the care of an amnesic patient under my care. What to do? What could I do? But, God willing, an opportunity showed up here at the Happy Clinic with Dr. Martin…and do you know what? I am much happier here now. I know you are asking yourself what this has to do with your diagnosis…what I want to tell you is that there is no duty that should come before you and your health. Maybe you will lose your job, but that does not mean other doors will not open for you. But if you fall deathly ill, it will be much worse for those who depend on you. Have a little faith that there is a place for you and your skills somewhere."
"Why can't Dr. Martin put it that way to me, like the way you did Miss Candy? You are an angel of God…" the young man said, heartened by her pep talk.
"Oh…Dr. Martin is a bit of a curmudgeon, but let me tell you…he is the best doctor in Chicago…" she assured him.
He bid his farewell and soon Candy and Terry were alone. Candy came over to her favorite patient and started taking his vital signs. "How do you feel today? I think you will be able to get up soon…" she said, smiling adoringly.
"Candy, the youth doesn't lie…you really are an Angel of God…a freckled simian Angel of God." Terry replied.
Candy didn't answer him, as she was more interested in taking Terry's pulse than entering into a good-natured row with him. It was running a bit fast, not uncommon for someone who had recently had surgery. She made a note of it and put the stethoscope on. "This is going to be cold…" she warned, putting the piece on Terry's chest. She couldn't help noticing again how defined his muscles were, despite his recent ailment and weight loss. The young aristocrat had grown up a bit since she saw him last.
"But your hands aren't cold…you can lay them on me all you want and wherever you want…" he whispered playfully.
"Hush, will you!" she chided, barely containing her laughter at his latest joke. Everything sounded okay with his heart. "Okay, now breathe in deeply, Terry…" she said, checking his lungs for fluid buildup.
"You know I only breathe for you, Candy…"
"Terry…stop joking around!"
"I'm not joking, Candy…" By the tone of his voice, Candy knew he wasn't.
She tried not to reply. She knew sooner or later they would have to talk about what happened back in New York and why he was now there.
She checked his wound and was very satisfied with how it was coming along. "You are healing marvelously, Terry! I think you will be able to get up soon…I will tell Dr. Martin as soon as he comes back…"
"I'm just like a bad weed…you can't get rid of me…" he joked. It had been so long for them since they had such an interchange. Candy was taking notes. He then sobered and asked, "Candy…why did you get sacked from St. Joan's? Please excuse me for asking, but I could not help but hear what you told the young man."
"Eh? Oh, it was nothing, don't worry…" Candy said, a bit panicked. She didn't want to tell Terry what was going on with Neil. Not at that moment.
"It was nothing! Didn't I hear you clearly say that not only they sacked you from there but that you got blacklisted with all the area hospitals?" Terry felt his blood starting to boil.
Candy noticed how quickly he was getting angry and she said, "Terry, I promise, I will tell you everything, but later, alright? Later, when you are ready to tell what happened since we…since…" she couldn't finish the sentence…she choked up just thinking about the time they separated on the stairs. She had been so happy since Terry's fever broke, spending all that time with him there that she had almost forgotten everything that had happened in New York.
Terry wasn't satisfied with her answer, but controlled himself. Besides, he could see the slight cloud of pain that had crossed her eyes when she choked up and he felt bad. "Very well…just because you are asking me…I always end up doing what you ask of me, Freckles…but speaking of which, didn't you say that I could get up soon?"
'Yes! I'm positive…but that doesn't mean you can go from pillar to post right away…you still have to convalesce a bit more…and for that…" she started, but then stopped.
"For that what, Candy?"
"For that you will have to spend some time in my apartment" she finished. She felt a strange sense of happiness and nervousness at the same time. She and Albert had discussed where Terry should go convalesce. Albert had decided with George to keep the status quo, he would continue as Albert, living with Candy in her apartment.
"Really, then?" Terry said, gratefully. For him, there was no better news.
Candy turned a bit serious. "Don't get too excited, dumkopf! We won't be alone…Albert will there, Poupee will be there…besides, you have to give me Suzanne's address so that…"
"NO!" exclaimed Terry with a violence that Candy had not seen in a long time. Again she chastised herself for not being more careful about what she said to Terry. Worse yet, with his anger rising again, he had made a swinging movement with his left arm, getting up.
"Terry! Stop! Please Stop!" she said throwing herself on him to stop him. She was afraid he would disturb the wound. "Please, lay down again…later on we can talk about how to let Suz…"
"I SAID NO, CANDY!" he bellowed again, inwardly furious for letting his rage get the better of him, admonishing himself for letting his ire dominate him so easily. "Augh!" he groaned, blacking out from the exertion. He fell back to the bed.
Candy immediately checked his wound. It had bled a bit, but it didn't seem like it had done anything serious. Quickly, she changed the bandages so that the wound would have a clean dressing. She had been serene all this time, but she could no longer hold back everything that was bottled up inside of her. She sat down next to him and collapsing on his right side started to cry. "Oh Terry…I'm so sorry…I'm so sorry…." she whimpered. She was sorry for having provoked him, sorry for having contributed to his state, sorry for still loving him…for loving him still.
Terry didn't know how much time had passed, but when he came to, he saw that Candy was crying over him. Her tears had wet the sheets and permeated through to this skin. He rebuked himself for not being able to control his impulses and for making her cry. Hesitant, he started to stroke her head, with a lot of tenderness and feeling. Candy, who had changed her hairstyle since she last saw Terry in New York, was wearing it mostly down now. For the clinic, she wore a kerchief that kept her blonde locks under control.
She stopped crying, but didn't raise her eyesight. Even though Terry thought that it wasn't neither the time nor the place to do it, he suddenly felt open and unguarded to speak.
"Candy…please forgive me. I don't know how someone like you could ever be with someone like me, I've got the worst humour this side of a Bengal Tiger. But I can say that you are the only one who can see past the walls I've had to erect to protect myself since I was a child…you are the only one who understands me, the only one who can reach me, the only one who really loves me for me. When others see a man full of character defects and complications, only you can see my humanity. Only you have been able to give my life sense and direction since you came into it….only you have been able to exhort me to be a man of good, a man who fights to get ahead and fights for his dreams…but without you Candy, I am like a ship without a rudder…I've tried to keep my promise of being happy without you, but I can't do it Candy…I can't…without you in my life, my frailties are stronger than my resolve and my dignity. I would have given anything not to find you again in this way, and believe me I am so ashamed. I've done nothing but dishonor you and dishonor the love we had…the love we have..."
When Terry was done, she raised her eyes to meet his. Hers were bloodshot from crying, his had just spilled tears. She didn't know what to say to him, because she knew Terry didn't put himself out there that easily. She knew that if she said the wrong thing, he would clam up again. She knew that Terry only got drunk if he was unhappy…and to have been continuously drunk for so long meant that he was severely unhappy. For the time being, she didn't want to talk about Suzanne either.
She considered what was that Terry needed to hear from her. She erased the sadness from her face, her eyes took on the special sparkle that was given to him only and said affectionately, "Terry…don't be ashamed, I am not ashamed of you and I never will be…you know that I love you will all your defects, which are totally obfuscated by your wonderful qualities…your passion, your strange sense of British humour, your gentleness, your sweetness, your noble spirit, your vulnerability….I ask you to forgive me, because perhaps I have been the cause of all this unhappiness…how could I blame you?"
"You can blame me for the simple fact that I let my weaknesses get the better of me…compared to you….look at you, you are so spiritually strong and I am not…"
"Terry…sometimes I don't if this strength is a blessing or a curse…why am I going to deny it, I too have suffered since I left your side and I reproach myself for it, because I should be strong. With everything that has happened, for the first time in my life I find myself second guessing if I did the right thing or not."
"Candy…" he said, feeling that her declaration was going to make him burst. He wanted to tell her to stop rebuking herself for feeling that way, but he was so attracted to her that he did not want to hold himself back. He sat up some more and looked at her. She recognized the gaze, and for a moment there were no problems, no anger, no suffering, no longing, no sad goodbyes, no Suzanne in New York. She felt a strange force pull them together and she felt the graze of his beard, his breathing, his….
"Uff! Candy, next time that I go run errands, make sure I take a list…I almost had to crack my head figuring out what we needed, and…" Dr. Martin stopped, looking at them quizzically. "What's going on?"
Candy was blushing bright red. The kiss had been interrupted just seconds before their lips had met. "Dr. Martin, I think you should check Terry out…I daresay he's ready to get up and join us in the world of the walking."
"That would be wonderful, so that I can get my place back to myself again" he said, jovially. Even thought he didn't show it, he was a dyed-in-the-wool romantic. "Let's see here" he said, looking over Terry's stitches. "Well, other than this recent blood, it does look like you are almost as good as new…good job, Candy, your Hippocratic eyes are getting better all the time." Then he said, sharply, "Did you make a sudden movement, young man?"
"Er um…yes…yes I tried to get up too quick…" Terry said, embarrassed.
"Listen to me, and listen well…in this marathon you are still a tortoise, is that clear? Don't go around thinking that it is all fun and games now…you still have to take care of yourself…if you promise to do that, you can come back in a week."
"Is that so…really?"
"Am I not a professional? Am I not talking seriously?" Dr. Martin told him, miffed.
The old Terry would have never let anybody talk to him like that, but this Terry bit his tongue and just said, "Thank you, doctor"
"Oh Terry…what fantastic news…let's surprise Albert…Dr. Martin, is it alright that I can go home early today?" Candy was so happy and glad that Terry was mostly out of the woods. She clasped her hands joyously and her face shone brightly.
"Miss Candy, just who do you think I am?"
"Why, you are the best doctor in all of Chicago!" she said, giving him a kiss on the cheek.
"You see that, Terry…how can I say no after this?…the man who marries her is lucky to have her and her heart" he said, smiling.
Even though Candy and Terry still had a lot of talking to do, with stolen glances they looked on with anticipation at the days to come. Now hope burned in their hearts and souls, and this because they had finally told each other the two words that they had so long waited to her from the other's lips. The two words that exhorted them to fight for the sweetest of campaigns, love.
1 Albert had just finished a few semesters at Harvard when he first met Candy. The author's own idea.
