Chapter 20—Passion
Voices came to her slowly as she opened her eyes. She could hear them mulling about faintly, as if she were trapped at the end of a long tunnel. As she pushed off the soft mattress, the room shrank and Catherine pressed her head into her hands. Beyond her headache, she could hear laughter and feet, as though some new exciting, electric current was in the air.
"Oh! You're awake!" Catherine lifted her face to see the concerned eyes of Dorothy Jennings. "I'm so glad. We were all so concerned about ya."
"Loud," Catherine mumbled as she put her head back in her hands.
"Oh, I suppose it is… but it's this most spontaneous, romantic thing I've ever heard of!" Dorothy nearly bubbled over.
"What are you talking about?" Catherine rolled her head back and forth in her hands.
"Why it's Sully and Dr. Mike!" Dorothy giggled. "They're gettin' married in a few minutes."
Catherine's hands fell from her face. "Married?"
"Well, I best be gettin' over there. Michaela needs me to be her matron of honor."
And her face held no expression as the door shut behind Dorothy. "Married."
As they sat around the dining room table, Sully's eyes traveled back and forth between Michaela and Lizzie, almost perfect mirrors of each other as they spun their forks around their plates, eyeing each other in secret spurts. Lizzie had been the light of their lives, but something in her went black a year ago, and no matter how much they tried or questioned, they couldn't get her to open up or discuss her feelings at all. Sully didn't know what to say. He caught Caroline's eye and attempted a friendly smile. "So…girls…how are classes goin'?"
Caroline smiled in return, relieved that Sully had taken the initiative to make some kind of conversation. "Just fine, Sully. Lizzie and Lina are battling it out for top honors."
Sully reached across the table and put his hand over Lizzie's frail one. It was too small for his liking, but he squeezed her hand anyway. "We're real proud of you, sweetheart."
Lizzie dropped her fork quietly, keeping her eyes lowered. "Thanks…pa."
Caroline and Lina eyed each other. Caroline knew that Lizzie was hardly breathing as her father touched her. Sully could feel her hand shaking under his, and he softened his touch. "Aren't you going to eat, Lizzie?"
Two fast tears rolled down her cheeks. "I'm not hungry."
Michaela dropped her fork suddenly, unable to stand the sight of her daughter crying and not being able to go to her. Caroline and Lina jumped at the sound as Michaela brought her hands to her face. The first words she could think of, the wrong words, tumbled out of her mouth, "You look pale."
"I said I'm not hungry." Lizzie's chest rose heavily and she wiped her eyes until she felt the emotion die down again.
Silence filled the room again, and nobody moved. Sully reached under the table and put a calming hand on Michaela's knee, but she couldn't stop shaking. Finally Caroline shifted in her seat, raising her voice unnaturally high, "So will Brian and Matthew be stopping by sometime tonight?"
"For Pete's sake, Caroline! Do you have to be so obvious?" Lina mumbled under her breath.
Caroline frowned at her modest twin. "What? They're cute!"
"You're embarrassing me," Lina whispered loudly.
"Pa?" Lizzie rose from her chair.
"Yeah Lizzie?" Sully looked up.
"May I be excused?" She asked quietly.
Sully looked down at her full plate. They had never let her leave the table like this before. "You haven't eaten your dinner. I thought fried chicken was your favorite."
"Please Pa… I… I just. I don't feel good," she nearly begged.
Sully closed his eyes. He didn't know what to do with her. No just didn't seem to be the right answer tonight. He didn't know how to help her. He sighed and shook his head. "Alright."
As Lizzie walked past them and left the house, Michaela stood up and followed her. "Michaela? What are you doin'?"
She reached the door and turned around. "I have to talk to her. We can't go on like this."
"I wouldn't do that, Dr. Mike," Caroline said as she stared at her half empty plate.
Michaela stopped abruptly. "Why, Caroline?"
Caroline swallowed and met her twin's eyes. Lina looked down guiltily. Caroline shrugged and lowered her eyes. "I just…wouldn't."
Michaela walked back to the table and pulled out the empty chair beside Caroline. Her voice was low and steady as she implored her, "Caroline Lewis… I've known you since before you were born. I breathed life into you when you couldn't breathe for yourself. Now you talk to me straight. Why can't I go talk to my own daughter?"
"Because she knows, Dr. Mike. She knows what you did."
As the years would pass, people would always ask Michaela and Sully about their wedding and what it was like. They weren't talking about this one, of course. They were talking about the one her mother hosted some months later, quoted in the Colorado Springs history archives as "one of the most elaborate and highly attended galas of the century." However, a look would pass between them, like silent laughter or music, and they would always remember their first small, intimate wedding with furtive, amused affection.
Poetic vows had left the small gathering in tears as Sully and Michaela held each other on the sick bed. Brian sat with them as Colleen and Matthew stood on either side of the posts. The Reverend, after the moving speeches that no one would ever be able to repeat, gathered himself, and received an encouraging nod from Dorothy, continuing the ceremony.
"Do you, Michaela Ann Quinn, take this man, to be your lawfully wedded husband?"
Michaela nodded first, finding certainty in his hopeful eyes. "I do."
"And do you Byron Shelley Winthrop Sully…"
Brian's eyes popped. "Shelley!"
Colleen shot him a warning look, but Matthew's head fell against his chest as he tried not to laugh. "Winthrop?"
Sully sighed as the two boys fed off of each other. He looked in Michaela's eyes that were sparkling over with amused sympathy.
"Don't forget about Byron," The Reverend muttered, hiding his grin under his beard.
With that, everyone in the room erupted except Sully and Michaela. She leaned her head on his shoulder and looked up into his eyes, mouthing I love you. He kissed her forehead, the blush falling from his face as she stood by his side against his eternal, humiliating persecution.
"My mother was a Romantic," he mumbled, shifting uncomfortably as the laughter continued. "Now shhh…"
The Reverend finally pulled himself together and the room died down, sobering itself as they realized the patiently waiting couple were about to go on with the ceremony without them. "Take this woman, to be your lawfully wedded wife?"
His waiting had ended, and he did not hesitate. "I do."
"The ring please."
Their world broke for a moment as they forget their metaphor. "Oh… We don't have one yet."
The room fell in silence, no one sure what to do.
Suddenly, Colleen sparked and lifted a chain from around her neck. "Oh! Dr. Mike! You can use this one! It was ma's."
Michaela watched her daughter unhook the necklace and slid a simple gold ban off of it. She couldn't recall her wearing it, but she knew inherently what it was. "Charlotte's ring? I couldn't—"
"She'd want ya to have it. Kinda like us." Colleen held the ring out in her palm. "Come on. It's your weddin'. Ya can't have a bare hand."
Michaela nodded quickly, her decision made. "Alright. I love you, Colleen."
Colleen kissed Michaela's cheek affectionately. "I love you too, ma. Here ya go, Sully."
The Reverend smiled as they made their final arrangements. Sully took Michaela's hand in his, and he took that has his cue to continue the ceremony. "Repeat after me, Sully. With this ring, I thee wed."
Sully slid the old band on her finger and clasped her hands when he reached her knuckle. "With this ring, I thee wed."
"Wow… it's a perfect fit, ain't it, Sully?" Brian marveled at their joined hands and the one ring between them. Michaela laughed, knowing in her heart that so much more than the ring fit in that moment.
"It sure is, pal," Sully agreed, his face mirroring hers as they waited for the last, sealing words of their union.
"I now pronounce you man and wife," The Reverend said joyfully, and the entire room broke out in cheers and laughter, blocking out the Reverend's next words. But it wouldn't have mattered anyway. They were already kissing.
Brian smiled at Matthew and Colleen as he watched them kiss. This made it real. They were a real family, and nothing could ever change that.
"Lizzie? Are you in here?" Michaela pushed the door open of the barn, lighting the wide space with a lantern. As she received no response, she began to leave, but just as she touched the door handle, a muted sob echoed from the haystacks.
Michaela walked deeper into the barn, careful not to make any sudden moves. "Lizzie… I know you're in here. I can hear you, sweetheart. Please tell me what's wrong. If I did something to hurt you, I want to fix it."
When Michaela rounded the corner, the only sign of Lizzie was her legs sticking out of the hay. She kneeled down beside her. "Lizzie…"
"I'm not one of your patients. You can't operate on me." Lizzie pushed herself further in the hay. Michaela could only see her feet now.
Michaela put the lantern down and sunk down to her hands and knees. She crawled towards the hay. "I… I know that. I didn't mean… Just please. Talk to me."
Lizzie closed her eyes as she felt the hay next to her rustling. "I don't see the point. No matter what you say, the facts speak for themselves."
Michaela stopped, lost in the hay, and baffled as she dug for her daughter. "What facts? I don't know what you're talking about!"
Then, Lizzie felt her hands, those hands, on her like soft, warm, comforting memories. She couldn't run because they were buried. She couldn't run…because she didn't want to. She missed her too much, but her words could still lie. "Don't touch me."
Unable to take the rejection again, Michaela did not crumble into herself but grabbed tight to Lizzie, wrapping her arms around her in the strongest, most protective embrace that only a mother could give. "I'm sorry! I have to touch you! YOU'RE MY BABY! I LOVE YOU AND I'M NOT GOING TO LET GO UNTIL YOU WAKE UP AND REALIZE HOW MUCH I LOVE YOU! YOU ARE MY HEART! MY HEART, DO YOU UNDERSTAND ME?"
"STOP IT! STOP IT, MAMA!" Lizzie cried out as her head leaned back into Michaela's neck. Untouchable grief escaped her as she allowed herself to feel the comfort and pain of Michaela's arms, knowing everything and knowing nothing. Finally, she broke, and her fighting ceased as she locked her arms around Michaela's and sobbed quietly, "Mama… Mama…Why aren't you my mama? Why?"
Michaela pushed back her matted blonde hair and kissed every stain on her face. "I am, baby… I am…"
Lizzie pushed away suddenly, unable to get the haunting words out of her mind. "If you really loved me, you wouldn't lie to me!"
Michaela followed her, shaking her head blindly as they sat there in the dark together. The lantern had died. "I've never lied to you—"
Lizzie looked down, her voice low and hurt as she found her controlled anger again. "You didn't tell me about the baby."
Michaela looked away from Lizzie, now thankful for the dark. "I don't tell anyone about her. It's not you, Lizzie. There are some things… a woman can't speak about."
Lizzie could feel Michaela's distance immediately. Another truth she couldn't avoid. Another fact that made everything so painfully real for her. "But you say I'm your daughter. Or at least you want me to be."
"Lizzie…" Michaela turned back, tears in her eyes.
Grief found grief in the dark. "Is that why you did it, huh? Am I the great substitution?"
Michaela gasped, hating that Lizzie would think that for one moment, but knowing that it had always been unavoidable. "Substitution? God no! I adopted you because I saw you and I couldn't take my eyes off of you. I knew I loved you."
Lizzie nodded, confused and tired. But she had to know. "So that's it. That gave you the right. That's why you stole me from my real mother?"
"Good grief! What is that racket downstairs!" Josef sat up in the darkness and reached for the lamp beside him.
Elizabeth didn't move from her nook on the corner of his pillow. "Who on earth would be calling this late?" She mumbled.
Josef swung his feet over the side of the bed and plodded to his dressing room. "I'll go down and see, Lizzie, don't worry."
Elizabeth winced as she heard a wail from downstairs, and suddenly, her slumber ended. She threw the covers over the side of the bed and went to the covered window. She pushed back the curtains and looked down to the street.
"Josef!"
"What?" He came back into the bedroom with his robe tied securely around him.
"The Montgomery's carriage is outside," she said, unable to take her eyes off of the dark shadow it made in the moonlight.
Josef stiffened as he watched his wife's still back. "They wouldn't come unless it was important."
She heard his feet against the hard wood. She could hear Martha's on the stairs. Had that been Caitlyn's wail? She spun around, her stomach falling. "Wait! I'm coming with you."
"Are ya goin' on a honeymoon now?" Brian asked eagerly.
Sully and Michaela eyed each other wistfully. They hadn't had bouquets of flowers or rows of guests or a first dance. It wasn't a fairytale wedding. But it was real. And it meant more than any dream they could ever imagine. "I don't think so, Brian. We probably won't be leavin' this room any time soon."
Brian pouted, now thoroughly disappointed for his ma and his new pa. "Well that stinks. But I got an idea! Matthew and Colleen and me could stay and keep ya company so ya don't get bored."
Sully and Michaela's eyes widened as they were quite lost for words. Luckily, Dorothy put her arm around Brian just in the knick of time. "That's awful sweet of you, Brian, but generally, newlywed couples like to be alone on their weddin' night."
Brian turned around, sighing hopelessly. "But ma's feelin' so poorly…she needs our love."
Sully hid his smile as he put a secure arm around Michaela. "Don't you worry, Brian. I'll make sure she's taken care of…" He found her eyes, and Michaela lost herself. "I'll make sure she's loved."
"Caitlyn?" Elizabeth stood at the top of the stairs, unable to move as she stared at the sight before her. Caitlyn was at the bottom of the stairs, crumbled on the floor, with a small boy in her arms. "My God!"
Josef pushed passed Elizabeth's frozen form and ran down the stairs to the Madonna and her child. "He—he won't wake up—he—"
"Josef!" Caitlyn looked up at Josef, asking him to take her son, to save him.
Josef lifted her up, his eyes full of compassion and knowledge. "Come inside quickly! To the drawing room—"
"Why? Oh God! Oh my baby…my baby! Chico!" Caitlyn cradled the limp child, and Elizabeth sunk to the top of the stairs. Frozen.
She looked down, and she saw the same petrified eyes reflecting back at her. Alex.
Michaela watched Sully carefully as he worked purposefully around the room. His activities varied from odd to plain old romantic. Somehow, he had found some used candles in the clinic's attic and had strategically placed them in all four corners of the room. He had had Grace bring in an array of delicious assortments—from fried chicken to a small white cupcake Michaela could only assume was their "wedding cake." And lastly, he came in with the largest basin of water Michaela had ever seen. She had no idea what that was for, but as he caught his breath, she cut him off before he could start on another activity. "You can stop overcompensating now."
Caught off guard, Sully went to her and sat down on the crisp, white sheets. He tucked her up to her chin and frowned. "You think I'm being insincere?"
Michaela looked at him sympathetically. Even now, he was still apologizing. "Just everything you've done…said…since… It's all been right. And now we're married, and I just…"
"You keep waitin' for the other shoe to drop," he assumed, smoothing the white sheet out across her cocooned body.
Her head tilted, and her eyes swelled. "We were so far apart for a reason, Sully."
He nodded, looking down, his arms on either side of her. "And I made things worse."
She shook her head, her arms aching to get out of the confining sheet and reassure him. "It wasn't entirely your fault. We both have responsibility to each other. I think that's what love is."
Sully sighed, his mind reeling over the past few months. I love you had come so fast, this, even faster. And he hadn't been patient. He hadn't thought. He didn't know how to contain a love that didn't seem to fit in his body. "I thought I knew how to love you before. But everything's changed now."
"How?" Michaela asked, her fingers sliding and pushing against the mattress under the covers.
His fingers spoke lightly across her face, not pushing or pulling, just gliding. She gripped the sides of her nightgown as he spoke softly, "I didn't know how to sit still and wait for you. I was always thinkin' of the future. But now that we're here, immobile, my love for you runs through me, and I don't want to go anywhere but where we are right now. I'll wait for you forever."
Michaela closed her eyes. "Forever," she whispered. She didn't want to wait forever. She didn't have to—they were married. But she couldn't ignore the dull pain across her stomach or her own medical knowledge. They had to wait at least three months to be safe.
Sully's quiet fingers left her face and they were quickly replace by a soft, gentle kiss. Before he had a chance to pull away for safety's sake, she arched her neck and captured his lips in hers. Without her hands, she couldn't hold him to her, and she hoped he wouldn't move away. She didn't want chivalry tonight.
Sully gripped the pillow underneath her head. He couldn't touch her. He couldn't hurt her more. But her kiss, her sweet kiss, as she tempted them both with the tip of her tongue, couldn't be ignored or rejected.
Suddenly, their tongues tangled as months and years and hours poured into a single kiss as waiting no longer became an option. His hands knotted hair and she ripped at the sides of her nightgown. It was too much. Three months… Oh God… Three months… What had they done? There was no safeguard, no barrier that kept them apart anymore—only danger. As a deep moan escaped Michaela's mouth, Sully was quickly brought back into the present. They couldn't do this. They had to wait. He ended this kiss, cold catching his lips immediately as he separated from her, spinning about the room as he stood. Everything was uncontrollable again.
He stopped and stared at her, his lips swallowed and his disposition haggard. He was losing. What battle, he didn't know. "You're my passion."
Michaela swallowed, her throat dry, but her lips still warm from where they had kissed. She knew, but she didn't know. It was hidden somewhere deep inside, but she could see it in his eyes. She didn't know that her eyes mirrored his. "Passion?"
"You feel it?" He asked.
"Yes," she answered without knowing.
Sully turned around and pressed his hands on the wall. She watched his hands flex as he said her name and she closed her eyes, "Michaela…"
"I want…" She whispered into the side of her pillow.
He turned around and saw her struggling. He couldn't stand it. "Shhh…."
"But I want…" She pressed, gripping her eyes tighter.
"I want to touch you," he said hoarsely. He didn't know whether he was finishing her thought or asking permission.
"Gently," she whispered, giving permission. Then with a soft smile, she finished his thought, "I want you to know me."
Sully nodded his head. He didn't dare breathe as he closed the distance between them. He sat beside her and reached for the white sheet across her neck and pulled it down to her waist. He released her limbs, and they immediately sought his, finding his touch necessary, as if he were a part of her body that she had been missing all of these years.
As they began to lock, he hesitated. She felt his resistance in her own fragility, and she held on to him, to her new hands. "I won't break," she promised, "Come closer."
Tenderly, Sully's lips dropped to her neck. Their hands pressed back into the pillows as she whispered, "Closer."
Her eyes shut and her world turned to night as his lips found her collar bone and created a new moon within its arch. She was the sky and he was a nebula, each kiss a new star on her skin. His hands left hers and she felt the bow of her nightgown loosen. "Closer."
Sully lifted his head for a moment. She felt her new eyes open. They looked directly at each other, the colors of their eyes mixing in a swirl of dark, undiscovered passion. Silently, they whispered, "Closer…"
She sunk in the hallway corner, putting her hands over her ears. She thought of everything she had told him. She had said all the right things. But it hadn't brought her closer. The right thing was never worth it. He didn't appreciate it. He only cared about Michaela's constant rejections.
Suddenly, she began to laugh. It was funny really. "Closer," Catherine repeated again. And again. And again.