Chapter Twenty-three: Inevitability
The EMTs allowed Blue Eyes to ride in the ambulance with Mother, but I had to take his car to the emergency room. I had managed to speak with Jim, and he met the ambulance when it got to the ER. I wanted to call Daddy and Greg, but I elected to wait until I knew how she was.
Blue Eyes caught me as I entered the hospital, pulling me away from the patient area and hissing at me in a concerned whisper. "Her oxygen level is not good, but she's okay. She's conscious."
"Good. I'll go see her."
He grabbed my wrist and held me where I was. "Listen, Tiger, she's going to be admitted. Why don't you wait until she's settled in a room?"
I looked deeply into his bright eyes. "You're not telling me something. What is it?"
He looked at his feet, avoiding my gaze but still holding tightly to my arm. "She isn't ready to see you yet."
"Isn't ready to see me?" I exclaimed. "That's just horsesh!t. Let me see her." I tried to pull away from him, but he wasn't relaxing his hold at all.
"When she's in her own room, she'll be more in the mood to see you. You know Hannibal, she'll have a whole list of things for you to fetch her."
"She waiting on a mani-pedi before she entertains visitors?" I asked sarcastically. Something about his demeanor worried me. "Fess up, puddin'."
He continued studying his own footwear. "She's asked that no one be allowed in with her. Particularly you."
I shifted my weight and considered my response. "You know she's crazy. Surely Jim isn't agreeing to keep me away?"
"He has to do as she requests."
I kicked him in his good shin, and he grabbed it, letting go of my arm. I made my way through the maze of curtains and patients until I found her.
She was lying, regally, on a bed with numerous monitors attached to her, all of them spitting out information. Her eyes were closed until she heard me next to her.
"What are you doing here, Audra? I told Gregory and James . . . "
"I don't give a flying f#ck what you told either of them," I said angrily. "You fall out in my house, you're going to have to put up with my presence in the hospital. Get used to it."
She smiled weakly. Pale and tiny, she had an oxygen mask she pulled back over her nose, effectively ending any conversation between the two of us. I stood watching her, my fists clenched. I wanted to strangle her oxygen-impaired neck.
Jim coughed behind me. I snapped around like I had been caught trespassing.
"Sorry," I muttered half-heartedly. "You know I couldn't stay away."
He nodded while watching Mother. "She has bacterial pneumonia. We're going to admit her and give her intravenous antibiotics."
Blue Eyes limped through the curtains, gave me an evil stare, and asked Jim, "What drugs are you going to use?"
"We're going to start her on intravenous levofloxacin and add clarithromycin if we need to," Jim said soberly.
Blue Eyes nodded.
"We'll keep her on oxygen and get a respiratory therapist to give her breathing treatments, but . . . " Jim's expression was grave.
"She's not going to leave here, is she?" I asked in a whisper.
"Audra, you might want to call your father. And Greg," Jim advised. In his indirect way, he had answered my question.
"Okay," I answered. I looked at Blue Eyes. "I'm sorry about your ankle."
"I should have seen it coming," he replied.
"Let me step outside and make some phone calls," I told them. I squeezed Mother's hand before I left.
I had to leave a message for Greg asking him to move up his visit. Daddy, however, answered my call.
"Mama's been hospitalized with pneumonia."
He paused. I could hear him taking a deep breath. "I guess that was to be expected."
The hand not holding the phone was clenched and shaking. "You need to get up here. She's not going to live through this."
"You know your mother. She's already made all of her funeral arrangements."
I felt the blood rush to my face. Blue Eyes walked up behind me and placed his hands gently on my shoulders just as I tensed them. "Funeral arrangements? That's what you're worried about? Your wife is dying, and your f#cking first concern is her choice of coffin?"
"Let me," Blue Eyes whispered. He lifted the phone out of my dumbfounded hand. "Mr. Jeffrey. I am Dr. Greg House. I'm a friend of Audra's and one of your wife's doctors. You need to know your wife is not likely to live long enough to leave the hospital." He waited while my father growled at him. "Sir, I really don't care whether you come to see Imogene or not. However, I do care about Audra. She's had enough to handle, with Zelda still in the hospital while she manages a new job, without playing nursemaid for your wife. The very least you can do is come up here and take responsibility for your wife." He paused again. "Let me give you my personal number where you can have me paged at any time. I'll expect you to let me know of your flight arrangements." He then recited his cell and pager numbers to Daddy. His tone was brusque. Assertive. Unapproachable.
"Daniel," I said.
He closed my phone and slipped it into his pocket. "What?"
"His name is Daniel. Dan. Danny Boy."
He put his hands back on my shoulders and massaged them. All of my energy was focused on not crying. Neither she nor my father was worth crying over.
"I need to go feed Zelda. Blue Eyes," I whispered in my softest voice, "you didn't have to . . ."
"Shut up," he said. "I'll go with you to feed Zelda."
We walked, silent but together, to the NICU. Blue Eyes held Zelda while I situated myself. As I nursed her, he sat quietly beside me.
"I still need to get a car seat for her," I said.
"There's time."
"He won't come here. He's just waiting for her to die."
"Greg will come."
"Yeah," I agreed. "My family is straight out of Faulkner."
He squeezed my hand. "I was thinking Bram Stoker."
By the time Zelda was fed and contentedly sleeping, Mother had been moved to her room. She was sleeping when I checked on her. I was torn between the urge to stay with her and the need to go home and sleep. Blue Eyes walked in on me watching her.
"Greg called," he said. He handed me back my phone. "His flight will get in around eleven tomorrow morning. Can you pick him up?"
"Yeah. I need to go by my office early. Will she sleep all night?"
"I'm sure Wilson's drugged her. Let's go home."
"My truck is here from this afternoon."
"Leave it. I'll bring you back in the morning to feed Zelda."
I looked deep into his lovely eyes. I knew he hated getting up early. "You don't need to do that."
"I know. I'm not a nice guy very often. Accept my offer." He wrapped his arm around me and steered me into the hall.
He was right. I was exhausted. I leaned into him and allowed myself to, briefly, rely on someone else.
Blue Eyes was, surreptitiously, moving himself into my townhouse, a backpack of clothes one day followed by a backpack of books the next. When we reached the townhouse, I saw the things he had bought for Zelda, and I nearly cried. I grabbed the onesies and clutched them to my breasts. He watched me struggle with my emotions; finally, he took me by the shoulders and put me to bed. He curled around me, holding me and the onesies, until I drifted off. I was so soundly asleep I didn't realize he was out of bed until he sat beside me and shook me.
"Tiger," he whispered. "Wilson called. We need to get back to the hospital."
"What?" I sat up, feeling for him in the dark.
"I'm here," he said, easing me into his embrace. "I'll turn on the lights and get your clothes."
"She's dying."
He squeezed me before he snapped on the bedside light. He brought me my jeans and t-shirt and then threw on his own clothes. I dressed in a daze. I was robotic. I allowed him to direct me to the car and chauffeur me back to the hospital. Jim met us outside Mother's room.
"Audra," Jim said quietly, "Imogene signed a DNR. You understand, right?"
I nodded absently. I was looking past him and into the room. I couldn't see her chest moving; I was afraid she had already stopped breathing. "Is she . . ."
"Her breathing is ragged, Audra. Go on in," Jim said.
I walked to her bed. She was so pale her skin was translucent. Her eyes were closed. Jim had freed her of the heart monitor, so the room was quiet. I could hear the faint sounds of her labored breathing. I watched as a breath caught and seemed to hover just out of her reach. After an agonizing few seconds, she exhaled. I couldn't move. I was glued to her bedside, waiting for her to draw that last breath. Every muscle in my body was rigid, and the tears, at last, flowed down my cheeks. Mercifully, she only managed a few more breaths before she stopped. She just didn't inhale again. I waited, holding my own breath, but she never inhaled. The lack of sound was overpowering. I raised my hand to cover my mouth. I waited. I watched. Blue Eyes put his left hand on my waist while Jim hovered in the doorway.
"Tiger," B.E. whispered.
I couldn't talk. I leaned my head towards him. He lifted his hand to encircle my head, grazing my neck; he pulled me against his chest. I closed my eyes as I rubbed my wet cheeks on his t-shirt, facing him full-on and wrapping my arms around his middle. He rested his bristled cheek atop my head. I took a deep breath and shoved him back.
"I'm going to go feed Zelda," I whispered hoarsely.
"I'll go with you."
"No," I said, brushing by him and Jim. "I need some time alone."
I hurried to find Zelda. I was overwhelmed with hatred: hatred for my mother for leaving me her last moments of life as her legacy; hatred for my father for, again, handing me a mess and expecting me to clean it up for him; and hatred for the isolation which consumed me. Lifting Zelda to my breast, knowing she drew sustenance from me and me alone, helped ease the gall of my bitterness. She was mine. She belonged to me. And I would never burden her the way I had been burdened. Never.
Blue Eyes, his patience gone, entered the NICU and took a sleeping Zelda from me. He kneeled on his good leg in front of me.
"Tiger, I'm going to give you a shot of ativan. Then you can get some sleep. I'll pick Greg up."
"No shot," I uttered in a monotone. "I want to meet Greg. Oh my god, I need to call him."
"It's okay. Wilson called him. I called good old Dan, who's making the arrangements to have Imogene moved back to Alabama." He was talking quietly and slowly, as to a child.
"Then Greg shouldn't come here. He needs to go home."
"Tiger, Greg wants to come be with you. He wants you to fly to Alabama with him."
"I can't leave Zelda."
"Listen, let me give you this shot. Then you can get some sleep and argue with Greg once he's here."
"No shot."
He was, understandably, losing his compassionate composure. He stood, leaning heavily on his cane, and surveyed me. He sighed, bent down towards me, and grabbed me, throwing me over his shoulder as he stood.
"I am going to do my best to get you to the car. If you struggle or wiggle at all, I will throw your ass on the ground, where I will proceed to strip you, in public, so I can inject this lovely drug into you. So, prove that doctoral brain of yours is working and begin cooperating."
"I'll go home with you if you promise not to drug me."
He shifted me on his shoulder while keeping his left arm slung across my ass. "No deal. You have to get some sleep. I can always admit you. Have you in restraints."
"Is everything about sex?"
He smacked my ass, but I could feel him beginning to chuckle. "Where do you want to sleep? Home or here?"
"Home. But don't overdo the ativan, please?"
"See how tired you are, Tiger? You said 'please.'"
"You ready to put me down yet?" I said to his back.
"Just trying to cop a feel."
"I'll start wiggling," I warned.
"Sh!t. You're no fun." He set me on my feet. I knew, by the way his eyes clouded over, my face was red from crying. He took my hand and we walked to his car.
Once at the townhouse, I got into bed and slept with the aid of his injection. He stayed with me, sending Jim to the airport to retrieve Greg. I didn't see Greg until after he had gone by the hospital to take care of the paperwork involved in having Mother flown home. When I did open my eyes to gaze into the brown eyes of my brother, parked beside my bed, I automatically reached out and hugged him.
"It's okay, Cissy," he said into my hair. "Everything's taken care of. We're flying to Huntsville tomorrow morning. The biped even called the university."
"Oh, he!!," I muttered. I had forgotten about my job.
"It's taken care of. You're on medical leave. Zelda has enough milk socked away that you could be absent a month. Everything's handled."
I was in a state of suspended animation. I moved, I talked, I functioned, but none of it punctured my vale of impenetrability. Greg helped me pack. He brought me food. He interceded with Jim and Blue Eyes and Daddy. He convinced me to accept another ativan shot so I could sleep enough to make the morning flight. I was lying in a bubble bath, beginning to dose off, when Blue Eyes somehow circumvented Greg's watchdog position and entered my haven. He sat on the edge of the tub.
"Want me to go with you?" he asked.
I was dulled by the drugs, but his question shocked me nonetheless.
"Why?"
He shrugged and looked at the floor. "I thought you might need some support. Or a bodyguard."
"You would, willingly, go to Alabama for Mother's funeral?" I asked stupidly.
"Yes, Tiger, I would."
"Your patients . . ."
"I'm entitled to time off. Cuddy's approved it."
I was having difficulty comprehending. "You've already asked Dr. Cuddy?"
"Yes, Sleeping Beauty. I'm cleared to accompany you below the Mason Dixon Line. Besides, I need to see your trailer park for myself. Is it tornado season?"
He helped me from the tub and into bed. I was in a drug-induced haze, so as he held me and began to touch and caress my body, I was slow to react. I rolled on my back to make his efforts easier. He licked and kissed my breasts as he slid his fingers between my legs. I moved to protest, but he quieted me with a tender kiss. I wasn't able to accept his efforts to please me; I wanted and needed a connection, a joining.
"Please," I whispered, tears choking my voice, "please, be inside me."
He moved over me, sliding easily into place. Slowly, he rocked into me with gentle undulations, keeping his arousal in check as my sorrow and my desire mingled and conjoined to create an aching void only he could fill. Tears ran, unbidden, down my face as I responded to his movements; as he, slowly, brought me closer to a sexual release, he also brought me closer to an emotional release. He continued to use restraint, but my moans became whimpers and, eventually, entreaties for relief. Nuzzling my damp face, he gradually increased his thrusts, sending me into a series of orgasms, one coming on top of the other with no pause in between. He whispered a soothing, "Shhh," in my ear until his hold on his own physiology slipped. I was clenched so tightly around him, every movement sent me on another cascade of shuddering contractions; his thrusts became more intense, punctuated with guttural grunts. As his own contractions finally eased, he gathered my quivering body onto his chest and held me there, shivering and crying, until the ativan took hold.