Chapter 14: Déjà vu

Like all hospital rooms, Faith's was cold, impersonal, and sterile, the complete opposite of its patient, Jem thought. At least, the opposite of her usual disposition. Jem sat in the chair by her bed, holding her hand as he watched her sleep. Faith was pale and still, but her breathing was steady and she appeared to be resting comfortably. As serious as Jem knew her condition was, she did not seem to be as ill as she had been nearly a year ago in London.

After escaping to Holland from Germany in September of 1918, Jem had been sent to England for treatment of his wound. He ended up in a hospital in London, though he never knew if that location had been due to luck or to the Wentworth influence. In either case, it provided him with something better than medicine: he was near Faith, who visited daily. On Christmas Eve, his doctor granted him permission to spend a few days at the Wentworths to celebrate the holiday. And what a joyous Christmas it was! The war had been over for six weeks, he and Faith were together, and spending Christmas with Victoria and Luddie was the next best thing to spending Christmas with their own families in the Glen.

Though a second wave of influenza had hit London after Armistice Day, no one in the Wentworth household had been stricken. But that changed on Boxing Day when Luddie collapsed in the parlor at noontime. The doctor came immediately, and Faith and Victoria tended to him frantically, but it was no use. Luddie passed away just before midnight.

An inconsolable Victoria was stricken next. Faith, Jem, and the household staff did all they could for her, but she was gone within twenty-four hours. When Faith collapsed in Jem's arms the following day, he first thought it must be from grief or exhaustion, until he put his hand on her forehead and realized she was burning up with fever. By the time the doctor arrived, Faith was delirious, and Jem was wild with worry. He spent that night by her side, holding her hand, talking to her, and wrapping her in ice in an attempt to bring down her fever. When her lungs began rattling as she breathed, it was the most frightening sound he had ever heard, a sound more terrifying than artillery fire. He knew she had developed pneumonia.

Jem began praying like he had never prayed before, not even in the trenches or in the German prisoner camp. He begged Faith to fight, telling her that he had fought to survive for HER, and now she must do the same for him. And he made the promise to God that he told Faith about eight days earlier at the restaurant in Charlottetown: if God let him keep Faith, he would never take her or their life together for granted and he would always make Faith his top priority.

Now, Jem felt as if he was living that night in London over again.

"Don't leave me, Faith," he whispered to her as he continued to hold her hand. "You have to fight. I know you're distraught about losing the baby, but you have to find the strength to fight, Sweetheart. I promise I will never leave your side again. I didn't survive the war, and you didn't survive the influenza so that things could end like this. We have so much ahead of us."

A few hours later, Jem was dozing off in the chair when he heard Faith stir. He quickly moved from the chair to the edge of her bed, where he sat beside her. As her eyes fluttered open, she licked her lips. When her eyes met his, she murmured, "Water."

"Of course," Jem said as he reached for the water pitcher on the table next to the bed and filled the empty glass beside it. "Here you are, Sweetheart," he said as he lifted her head with one hand and put the glass to her lips with the other. She took several sips.

"Thank you," she murmured as she closed her eyes again. "So tired."

"I know you are," he said softly as he gently ran his hand over the top of her head. "Go back to sleep."

Faith was asleep again almost immediately, leaving Jem alone with his thoughts until Gilbert, John, and Rosemary entered the room in the early evening hours.

"The Merediths are going to sit with Faith while I take you to get something to eat," Gilbert said.

"Thanks, but I'm not hungry," Jem responded absently.

"Jem, you haven't eaten all day and you've slept less than four hours in the past thirty-six," his father said sternly. "If you don't get some food and some sleep, you are going to end up in a hospital room of you own, which means you won't be able to sit with Faith at all. We're just going to the restaurant across the street. John or Rosemary will come and get you if there's any change in her condition."

"What if she wakes up?" Jem asked.

"That's not likely for several hours," Gilbert said.

"But if she does, one of us will come and get you immediately," Rosemary said reassuringly. "Please, Jem. We are almost as worried about you as we are about Faith."

"Ok," agreed Jem, realizing that he was outnumbered. He leaned over and kissed Faith on the forehead before leaving with his father.

For the second time in eight days, Jem found himself dining in the restaurant at the Windsor Hotel. Though he was exhausted, the irony was not lost on him.

"Faith and I were here a week ago yesterday," Jem said after taking a few bites of his meal. He still wasn't hungry, but he knew he had to eat a little to please his father. "It was in this hotel that she told me about the baby."

"I'm sorry, Jem," Gilbert said sincerely. He wished that Anne were with them, for she was better at handling such emotional situations. But Gilbert had convinced his wife to go home, pointing out that there was nothing more she could do at the hospital for the time being.

"I can't lose her, Dad."

Gilbert wanted desperately to respond like a father, but the doctor in him would not allow him to state emphatically that Faith would be perfectly fine in no time. "Chances are you won't lose her. Despite what's happened, she's young and otherwise healthy. Even if she starts hemorrhaging again, we can operate to save her life if we have to."

"A hysterectomy," Jem said flatly.

"Only if her life is in danger," Gilbert said. "There are no guarantees in medicine, Jem, but I don't think it will come to that."

"I can't imagine having to tell her that she can't have children. She'll be devastated."

"Don't go borrowing trouble. One of the most difficult things about being a doctor is knowing the worst case scenario when the patient is your wife or your child. But it's something you have to get used to."

"If I become a doctor, you mean," Jem said.

"When you become a doctor," Gilbert said, "which will happen in about six months."

"Dad, I can't go back to Redmond when the new term starts. I can't leave Faith."

"You're not in any condition to make that decision tonight. You're out of your mind with worry," Gilbert said, trying to be sympathetic.

"I'm not going to change my mind," Jem told him.

"We'll talk about it later," Gilbert said patiently, even though he thought his son would have to be out of his mind entirely to quit medical school now when he was so close to graduation. "Finish your dinner, and then I'm going to rent you a hotel room for the night. You need sleep, even if it's just a few hours' worth. I'll go back to the hospital a watchful eye on my favorite daughter-in-law."

The comment caused Jem to give his father a weak smile.