Ch. 8
That night I laid in my bed, staring at the ceiling and tightly gripping the white, linen sheets in my fists as I listened to Bella's soft whimpers drift over from her room. Her bed was positioned opposite mine, so I knew that our heads were mere inches apart, nothing but a single, thin wall between us. At one point, I heard her sniffling, and I drew myself upward to my knees, closing my eyes and resting my palms and forehead flat against the cool plaster. If these horrid sounds continued much longer, I stood no chance at holding myself in that bed, tormented with the notes of my beloved bawling. I dragged a hand through my unruly hair and fought the urge to punch my fist at the wall, throwing myself back on the bed in frustration. My chest heaved up and down with deep, ragged breaths, and I sunk my teeth into my fist to keep my lips from trembling when another muted cry escaped across that damned wall.
"Please, God, give me guidance. Tell me what to do. I beg you! I'm not strong enough to bear this!" I prayed aloud even as my toes coiled into steel grips against my soles. No, I couldn't take this any longer. I had to do something. Which was worse, to ignore her suffering or comfort her in sin? Why must choosing the right way be so difficult?
I leapt from my bed just as I reasoned with myself that a visit to her door should be fine. I just wanted to know that she was alright. Maybe if we weren't physically involved I could comfort my Bella through words. Yes, speak to her, I just had to speak to her.
As I reached for my door handle, my footsteps faltered as I questioned if it would behoove me to wake mother instead? That would be what a responsible gentleman would do...Yes, I should rather do that, but even as I thought it, there was another quieter—yet more demanding—voice, a devil tempting me, whispering all the things I selfishly wanted to hear directly into my ear. 'Go to her. Go to your Bella, and hold her. Only your presence will soothe your love.' There was one last weeping sob from the other side of the wall at that same moment as if to emphasize my waning conscience, and that was it for my will. Devil or no, my Bella needed me.
With just my head hanging out of the door, I squinted into the darkness and listened for any sound, hoping the sharp squeaking of the henges had not awoken Father. He had always been a light sleeper. Though, if one of my parents were to catch me in Bella's room, I would probably prefer it to be him. He was much more judicial about discipline, just as he learned in the courtroom. For sneaking out of my room to see Bella, I could say with certainty that he would sentence me to two weeks without my car or my beloved and one additional week without Bella. Mother tended to react on pure emotion which yielded much less predictable outcomes as far as punishment went, and father would humor her suggestions in order to move past the transgression more swiftly. Depending on mother's response, this act might earn me anything from a simple chiding to being sent to live indefinitely with Aunt Mariam and Uncle Josiah on the farm in Sheridan. God willing, neither would find me, but I would own up to whatever the consequences if I could help my love now.
Knock Knock Knock
I tapped on Bella's door lightly as my eyes shifted toward the end of the hall where my parent's room would be.
"Yes?" The muffled sound of Bella's faint voice called, commanding my full attention.
"Love? It's me. Are you alright?" I whispered as loudly as I dared with my mouth close to the gap between the door and the frame. I waited, but there was only silence in response. I leaned my head against the door in shame. "Please, Bella. I'm so sorry for earlier. I...I just...I'm scared." It was out of my lips before I could stop it, but I felt instant reprieve with the admission, and my shoulders sagged.
"Scared?" I fell forward as the door suddenly flung open. I narrowly missed Bella as the floor shot upward to meet my face. I landed with a thump. "Oh!"
"Bella." I groaned humorously from the floor as I rubbed my throbbing nose. I had probably broken the bone when my face hit the ground, but I was so relieved to see her that I didn't care. It had only been a few hours since dinner, yet my mind had taken a dark turn during that short separation. The sight of her was enough to brighten the blackest of my thoughts.
She kneeled down beside me, covered in nothing but that same dressing gown, and I looked away, embarrassed. "Edward, what did you mean that you're scared? About...Ruth?" Her voice cracked as she spoke the name, and I pressed my palms into my eye sockets. She was hurting still, of course, and I had somehow made this visit about my needs.
"It's nothing, love. Are you alright? I heard you crying."
"I wasn't crying," she answered flippantly.
"I heard you, Bella. There's no need to feel ashamed." I started, but she interrupted.
"Edward, look at me. I wasn't crying, but I am concerned about you. If I had heard one more wail from your room, I was coming to check on you myself. In fact, I was just about to change when I heard the knock on my door. That's why it took me a moment to open it. Now, why are you scared?" Wailing? What was she on about? I finally turned to look at her, intending to ask her, but I caught sight of her womanly form in the thin, cotton gown no longer hidden by the typical layers of clothing worn during the day, and my breath hitched. I tore my eyes away unwillingly, focusing only northward of her neck, and her cheeks flushed under the obvious scrutiny of my gaze. Nevertheless, she didn't back down. "Tell me."
"Well," I gulped as I attempted to recall her question. Her face was so open, filled with so much love and worry for me, and my eyes shifted back to the ground. With her here, standing before me, my theories didn't seem as sound in their founding. "It's nothing," I sighed when my chagrin overwhelmed me.
"Edward..." she began, and I felt her warm hand gently trail across my forearm and closed my eyes and forcefully bit my lower lip when an involuntary shudder moved through me. I wanted so badly to hold her, to love her. "Edward Anthony Masen, how are we ever supposed to be partners if we cannot talk to one another in earnest without humiliation? How can I prove that I am worthy of your trust? I love you. If we have nothing else, we have that."
I could hear the purity in her statement, and I knew she was right. If all else was lost, we had our love.
"Of course I trust you. I'm sorry I made you doubt that. I was scared because I thought that...err..." I paused, realizing that my anxious mind of the last few days had overridden fact. I loved this woman with my whole heart, my whole self, the entirety of my soul. Nothing bad could stem from the intense sencerity of my love for her. I changed course. "I feel ridiculous now because you're right, as always. Our love is good. Our love is pure. Never again will I let my thoughts go rogue and impugn that sanctitude."
"You change emotions so quickly sometimes that I can't move with you. So you won't tell me then?" She asked with narrowed eyes, and I had to laugh.
"No. It's not worth anymore of our time."
"Then why were you crying in your room?"
"Crying? No, I told you that I heard you crying just before I came here."
"And I told you that I wasn't crying. I've cried myself into a drought." I looked to her in pity, but I still didn't understand.
"If it wasn't you, then what was that noise? I was sure I heard a woman sobbing..."
"Edward!" The shrill of mother's voice carried down the hall, sending shock into my bones. I had never heard her scream that way, and yet the tone was unmistakeable. She was afraid.
"Mother?" I called frantically as I scrambled to my feet. I looked back to Bella regretfully, but she was already right there behind me as we made our way down the hall.
"Mother?!" I cried again, forcing her door open and scanning the space wildly. I couldn't see anyone, the bed sheets empty, crumbled, and pushed aside.
"Edward..." She cried again meekly from the floor on the other side of the bed.
I skirted around the bed but came to a sudden halt when I saw mother on the floor, father limp in her lap. His face was covered in a cold sheen of sweat, his skin ashen and eyes glossy.
"What is it?" I fell to her side.
"I'll phone the doctor." Bella said as she rushed from the room.
"He...he...I couldn't wake him...He stopped breathing...then he was again, and he fell...but I couldn't...wake him." She got out.
"He's so warm. Let me..." I trailed off as I walked around my mother and put my hands under Father's shoulders from behind. I pulled upward with all my strength wanting to move him back to bed, but it wasn't enough.
Just then I heard footsteps coming back up the stairs and Bella's distressed voice, "He's here, just on the floor with Mrs. Masen."
I turned to see the strange doctor—Dr. Cullen—coming through the door. If the situation had been different, I would have argued at the prospect of this man in my home, but I was so thankful to see a doctor, any doctor, that I couldn't worry about it. His timely visit was suspicious, though.
As if he were answering my thoughts, he said. "I was just coming to check on you all. Helen was just admitted to the hospital after one of her neighbors found her unconscious at home, and she mentioned that Helen had been around each of you this week." He spoke in that odd melodic tone of his.
"Helen?" Mother seemed unphased by the young, handsome, strange man in her home.
"Yes, Mrs. Masen, I'm Dr. Carlisle Cullen. Do you mind if I look at your husband? If he has what Helen came to the hospital with, he may be very ill." He had such kindness in his eyes, despite the feeling of nausea radiating from my core. I couldn't begrudge the man for his bedside manner.
"I...of course.." She stared into his eyes with confusion but lifted her hands, helpless to remove Father's weight from her legs.
Dr. Cullen bent to reach and pick father up , placing one hand below his neck and the other under his knees. He lifted him as easily as if my father were a small child. I pondered the sight as I recalled how difficult even just dragging his limp form had been moments before. The doctor must have been very fit to perform such a task so effortlessly.
I didn't dwell on the thought, though, as Dr. Cullen started his assessment. He opened a large black bag which I hadn't noticed he had brought with him and removed a few medical items. He placed his stethoscope against Father's chest and back at several places and listened intently. Then he took his temperature and blood pressure, and continued to look him over.
He spoke as he felt father's wrist. "I believe he has a particularly bad strain of influenza which has recently hit the city. He needs to be admitted to the hospital. I will do my best, but I won't hide the truth of the matter from you. If my diagnosis is correct, there is a very high chance that he will not recover from this." He then flicked his gaze directly at me. "You need to prepare yourselves for the idea that he may not return home alive."
"No!" Mother gasped, both of her hands flying up to cover her mouth.
I wanted to go to her, but I froze. Instead, Bella moved to stand beside me, taking my hand in hers without care of our current company. I squeezed her hand, thankful she was here with me, spiritual repercussions be damned. I was already in hell watching my father wither away so suddenly.
"Could your diagnosis be wrong?" Bella asked in her quiet voice.
Dr. Cullen looked to her as he straightened himself. "Yes, I suppose it could, but it's not likely. The flu has been rampant across Europe and in the States for several weeks. I've seen many patients present with these same symptoms. I'm quite confident in my assessment. I'm so sorry, but I will try my very best to heal him."
"You are the best, aren't you?" Mother asked skeptically after clearing her throat, finally standing from the floor. She brushed away the stale tears from her cheeks and pushed her hair back from her face. Shifting back to her caretaker role, she was the strongest woman I knew, well, besides my Bella.
"I'm more experienced than my youthful appearance offers. I promise to do everything I can for your husband, Mrs. Masen." He spoke sincerely.
"Elizabeth, and you better."
He nodded, then turned to me again. "Edward," I jumped at my name coming from the man's lips. How strange that he would recall my name so easily. Though, perhaps Bella mentioned it at the door. "Will you help me carry him to my car?"
"Can I come?" Mother asked moving back to father's side.
"I'm sorry to say that the hospital is not allowing visitors so late at night. You may come in—" He glanced down at a pocket watch in his hand. I hadn't even noticed him move to retrieve it. Exhaustion must have been overtaking my reason at this point. "—five hours, after seven." He finished. "We must hurry, though."
"Right. Thank you, Dr.—" Mother paused at a loss.
"Cullen." He supplied once more.
"Yes, thank you Dr. Cullen." She tried again. Then, bending over to brush the hair from Father's sweaty forehead, she placed a kiss there gently. "Return to me, my dear. Oh how I love you so..." She whispered softly, and I had to turn away from such a display of intimacy. "Alright, do what you must, Doctor." She said in a much louder voice, backing away to the wall with her eyes still trained on father. He seemed so peaceful as if he could just be asleep.
"Son," Dr. Cullen gestured to the bed, and I broke from my frozen state, nodding in concession.
He carried the top half, while I held father's ankles. He felt extraordinarily weightless compared to before, though I suppose it helps having a second person to bare the weight.
Once we had father lying comfortably across the back seat of Dr. Cullen's car which he had already cranked the engine of, I realized there was something I must say to the man. I felt so ashamed at my behavior upstairs. I left my mother to cry alone while my Bella comforted me. It was the opposite of how things should have been. I had to be the strong one for them. I was the man, after all.
"Dr. Cullen," his name felt strange on my lips, and I let it sit there for a moment before continuing. He watched me patiently. "Just, please tell me first if he...if he passes. Mother will need me, and I don't want to repeat my performance as a statue up there. I need time to compose myself for her."
"Alright, Edward. If you're sure. I pray it doesn't come to that. You're much too young to take this all on by yourself."
"I'm seventeen, practically a man." I murmured much less confidently than I would have liked.
"Yes, I suppose you are." He answered, but his expression was off. He almost seemed amused, but it was just a flicker before the somber set of his mouth returned. "I should be off now. Take care of yourself. Stay hydrated and wash your hands often." He jogged around to the driver's side, tipped his hat to me, and left.
How strange he was.
I whispered a prayer for my father who had always been so strong, a true head of the family. A single tear fell down my cheek as I watched the car round the corner of the street, but with a heavy sigh, I brushed it away and turned back to return to the women in the house. I was the man of the house until Bella's and my father returned. I couldn't allow such sensitivity to interrupt my duties. I would make my father proud.
Oh no! It's flu season, y'all :(