Part 3.5 – Bedtime Story

Spring had finally arrived in the Midwest. Days were longer, sunny and bright, flowers bloomed, and she was trying to be her happy, sparkling, spirited self, matching her mood to the weather. If she could be normal, then everything would be normal and her father wouldn't be sick.

But he was. And he got sicker every day. She was terribly upset, but told herself she wouldn't let him see it and add to his worries, not after the terrible scene she had made the night he told her his prognosis. She was determined to be as cheerful and happy as she could around him, as she silently prayed every single second for a miracle.

Gregg's impending visit was making it easier to maintain a good mood, but then she would feel guilty and suffer irrational bouts of crying, hiding in her closet or the bathroom with the water running so no one could hear her sobs. She was excited to see Gregg – she needed him now more than ever. He was every bit as devastated as she, and longed to hold her, to give her comfort and strength. When he called to tell he was coming to Michigan, she had been speechless. He would split his spring break between here and the shore, and then be back in June for her graduation.

She was in her girlie pink bedroom, the bedspread an explosion of flowers and ruffles, the spring breeze billowing filmy curtains away from open windows. Her mother had always wanted a room such as this, and even though she would have preferred a less fussy room, it had made her mother happy to decorate if for a princess. Staring at her reflection in the mirror hung above the fancy vanity table, she assessed herself. The lemon yellow shirtwaist dress and matching cardigan made her look serious and sophisticated, but she wished her mother would let her wear taller heels. The little beige kitten heels were almost flats in her estimation, and Gregg was so tall. She pulled her long, curly hair back from her face and fastened it with a large bronze barrette to keep it out of her eyes. Gregg loved her hair long and curly, and she promised she would never cut it. She placed her hand over her heart, where Gregg's fraternity pin was attached. He had given it to her the night before she and her family left the Martin home at the end of the previous summer. It was, he said, the same as being engaged, and at the appropriate time he would exchange it for an actual engagement ring. She wore it every day.

She was almost ready to go. Gregg's plane was due in an hour and it would take that long to get to the airport given the distance and traffic. She gave her hair a final brush and her lips a final skim of pale pink lipstick before heading out of her room toward the stairs. Her father was resting, so she didn't go into her parent's bedroom to say goodbye. She would let him rest up for the excitement of when Gregg was actually here so they could have a nice dinner. As she continued down the stairs, the telephone rang and her mother yelled that she would answer it. For a few seconds she heard nothing until her mother let out a heart-wrenching cry that stopped her dead in her tracks. She ran the rest of the way down the stairs and into her father's den to find her mother clutching the receiver in her hand, her face deathly pale, her body trembling uncontrollably.

She went to her mother quickly, took the receiver from her cold hand and returned it to the cradle. She put her arms around her and hugged her. "Mom, what's the matter? Who was that?"

Her mother looked at her only daughter and swallowed hard. Tears formed in her eyes and she hugged her daughter to her fiercely. "Della, oh Della, sweetheart, I'm so sorry, so very sorry. That was Eric Martin. They…the Martins…got a call. Oh Della, the plane Gregg was on…the plane…"

She could feel the blood drain from her face as she held herself away from her mother with an uncomprehending stare. For a moment she didn't move, couldn't move, couldn't make a sound. Then the ceiling seemed so much farther away and the room spun as she collapsed in a motionless heap at her mother's feet.

She felt like Alice, falling and falling and falling into a deep, dark hole. Only there wasn't a Wonderland at the bottom of the hole, there wasn't a bottom at all. She kept falling, spinning out of control, her mother's cries barely audible above the roar in her ears.

Gregg was gone. The man she loved, the man who loved her, the man who was her future. He couldn't be gone. He said he would never leave her, had promised he would take care of her forever. He promised, just like her father had promised. She wanted to scream – to shout and yell and beg someone to change everything back to the way it had been – to the way it was supposed to be. But nothing emerged from her. Not a sound. Not a cry, not a whimper, and certainly not a scream.

Her mother collapsed next to her, and wrapped slender but strong arms around her. "Oh Della," she wept, "Oh Della."

"You promised you wouldn't leave. Please come back. I need you!"

There it was again, the gentle touch on her hand. This time Della responded by lifting her fingers.

"Della, wake up. You did it before. I'm right here, see? I told you I wouldn't leave you and I won't. You're dreaming, baby, but you have to wake up now."

She felt tears on her cheeks and heard a loud hissing noise. Her chest felt heavy, like when she was a girl and her cat had laid on her to nap. She wanted to open her eyes, wanted to do as the voice commanded so tenderly. She liked the voice. No, she loved the voice. She opened her eyes, and tried to focus on the face she loved.

"You're here…I woke up…you weren't here…it scared me." Every word was almost too painful to describe.

"Della, darling, don't be scared. I'm right here. I'm sorry you thought I was gone. I only went down the hall for a few minutes for a talk with Kathy. I had to leave so Dottie and Ruth could take care of you so you can get better. But I'm back now, and I'm staying. I'll be right here." Long fingers closed around hers. "You were having another dream, precious girl. You were talking in your sleep."

"I – I was dreaming about…about something that happened a long time ago."

So happy she was awake and talking, well croaking, but not wanting her wakefulness to be stressful, he reached his other hand inside the tent and stroked her arm. After the conversation with Kathy he finally had an idea what the dreams that made her cry out were about and didn't want them to get in the way of her recovery. If she wanted to try to talk about them, to put them to rest once and for all, that's what he would encourage. But if she didn't want to talk, or couldn't talk, he would still encourage her to.

"Would you like to tell me about it?"

"Not…not right now." Her eyes held that same pleading as before, when she looked to him to save her. She coughed suddenly, that horrible barking noise and Perry cringed visibly. Her breathing still seemed better, and he hoped the worst had passed, but she still had a long way to go.

"Perry?"

"What, darling?"

"I want to go home. Please…take me home."

He smiled and held her hand more tightly. It was the only thing he could do. "Della, there is nothing I would like more than to take you home. But sweetheart, you need to stay here a little longer until you're well enough for me to take care of you by myself. When Kathy says you can go home, I promise I'll take you back to our house and wait on you hand and foot. Your every wish will be my command. Close your eyes now baby and take a nap. I'll take one with you."

Della didn't say anything and Perry watched the tears continue to leak from the corners of her eyes.

"What's the matter, baby? Tell me."

"Don't want to sleep," she rasped. "Don't want…to dream anymore. I'm scared."

"Della, as much as I'd like for you to stay awake and talk to me, you do need to rest. You don't need to be scared. I'll be right here. I won't let anything hurt you."

She rolled her head from side to side on the pillow, distressed. "No…no more sleeping. No more dreams."

"What if I tell you a story? Would you like that? Would you close your eyes and rest?"

She squinted at him through the distorting plastic and nodded.

"All right then, here we go." His mind raced to find something that would soothe her. "You know, summer will be here before you know it. When I bought the house I planned on us coming every weekend and spending our vacations here. I know there's no boardwalk, but maybe I can have one built at the edge of our kingdom and down to the beach, just for you to walk on, would you like that?"

Again she nodded.

"All right then, I'll look into that. So it's summer, and we're at our house. It's a beautiful day, warm and calm, and the sound of the ocean could almost lull us to sleep. We're eating lunch – you wanted cold chicken and pasta salad, French bread, pickles, lemonade, and strawberries for desert, so that's what I made. We're eating outside on the back deck and you look smashing in your white shorts and the red and white checked top that ties at your waist. Your hair is pulled back with a headband because you know I like it that way. The jasmine is in bloom and the scent is marvelous. You lean against me and I tell you I love you." He didn't know if the shrubbery surrounding the house was jasmine, but if it wasn't, he would make sure Martin would have it removed and replaced. "While I clean up from lunch, you go upstairs and change into your bathing suit – the turquoise one with the cover-up that is so flattering. We take the boardwalk to the beach and the sand is white and so soft on our feet. It's like walking on a cloud. The water is perfect. Cool, but not cold, and the deeper you walk in, the warmer it becomes. I let you stand on my knees and dive into the surf while you laugh and laugh. Then we get out and sit on a blanket in the brilliant sunlight for a little while and listen to music on the pocket radio you gave me for Christmas. After a time we go back in the water and everything is wonderful, until you get that playful look in your eyes and the next thing I know you're splashing me for all you're worth. I know you can throw like a boy, but I didn't realize how much water you can splash with those lovely hands. But I get even with you. I dive under the waves and come up behind you, grabbing you and holding you against me. You struggle and squirm, but eventually give up and let me kiss you. You lay your head on my shoulder and wrap your arms around my neck and I carry you back to the blanket. I dry you off with the big yellow beach towel we bought in Mexico and we lay down on the blanket."

Della's eyelids drooped a bit, then she widened them with great effort. "Don't stop," she croaked.

He smiled. "So that's where we are. On a blanket in the warm sunshine. You're safe in my arms and you're getting sleepy. The sun is not as hot as earlier and it feels wonderful on our skin. Little fluffy clouds appear in the deep blue sky and we see all sorts of funny things in them. You yawn and you're very sleepy now. You're so light, like those clouds floating in the air, and I'm holding you safe in my arms. It's okay to sleep, Della. You're going to sleep and dream beautiful dreams. When you wake up again I'll be right here, my darling, and you can tell me all about those beautiful dreams. It's okay, baby. Sleep…go to sleep. I'll see you in a little while. I love you."

He had to have more contact with her. Carefully he pulled her hand through the slit in the plastic tent and kissed her fingers tenderly, one by one. He felt her hand relax in his as he placed it back inside the tent. When he glanced at her face, her eyes were closed, and her head dropped slightly to the side as the quickest of sighs escaped her lips. She was asleep, and he could only hope fervently that it would be a peaceful sleep filled with those promised beautiful dreams. Without letting go of her hand, he leaned back in the chair, closed his own eyes and tried to rest. His last thoughts as he allowed sleep to finally claim him, was that he wished like hell that he, and not his beautiful Della, was in that hospital bed. He would make good on his promise to help Della recover, and once she was well, he would help to repair a broken friendship.