Part 4.1 – Mae Cusses

Mae Kirby looked down at her niece with maternal concern. "She's so pale. And is her chest supposed to…to cave in like that with every breath?"

Perry circled Della's aunt with his arm and hugged her reassuringly. "Believe me, Mae, she's a lot better now than she was three days ago."

Mae threw him a frowning look of disapproval. "I'll have a long talk with you about that when she's better, Perry Mason. Why would you wait three days to call me?"

Perry kissed the side of Mae's head, let go of her and sat down wearily in the chair. "I promised I wouldn't leave her," he replied.

"You could have given my number to someone and they could have called," she pointed out.

Perry smiled wanly and rubbed the stubble along his jawline. "I thought you said we'd talk about this when she was well."

Mae regarded him critically and her eyes suddenly softened. "You look like hell."

He stared at her. "Mae, I'm shocked. I don't think I've ever heard you cuss"

"I reserve it for occasions when no other word will do. Cussing is more effective when used judiciously."

"Then I must really look terrible. I think the next time she wakes up I'll prepare her for my inevitable absence and go take a shower."

"You are rather ripe."

He groaned. "I hadn't thought of that. It can't be good for Della that I'm unkempt."

"Unkempt is much too mild a word, Perry."

"I'm beginning to remember why I waited three days to call you." He yawned loud and long. "Her doctor is off shift now. I don't like the resident currently on duty. He comes in only when absolutely necessary and handles her with perfunctory disregard. The nurses tip-toe around him and he won't give me straight answers. He even tried to have me thrown out of here."

"It is rather unusual for a non-family member to…" Mae didn't finish her sentence. The burning look she got from him made her flush. "I'm sorry, Perry. As far as I'm concerned you're family, but to everyone else you're just…her boss."

What Mae said was true. While their relationship didn't exactly take place on back streets, Della was consumed with protecting their mutual reputations by keeping their feelings for one another as private as possible. That she had allowed him to spend the entire night at her apartment Friday night should have been the harbinger that something was wrong. "What did you tell her family?" he bit out, trying not to place too much emphasis on the word 'family'.

Mae regretted her words, knowing that they caused him a certain amount of pain. She suspected her niece's relationship with the intimidating attorney was serious – much more serious than she had been allowed to witness the past few years. Perry had accompanied Della to Michigan once for a visit, and her sister Alice had called immediately with her grave concerns over the 'crush' Della apparently had on her boss and to pump her for information about them on their home turf of Los Angeles. So even in the bosom of her own family Della was reticent about revealing the true nature of their relationship. Mae didn't know positively why Della conducted her life with such caution and reserve, but she had a theory.

"I told them that she was gravely ill and that I would call them when I knew more."

He nodded, almost to himself, for no particular reason.

"I also told them that she was in very capable hands."

Again he nodded. "She is. Her primary physician, Kathy Spencer, is very capable. She's also an old friend."

"I meant in your hands, Perry."

Perry blindly reached for her hand and squeezed it.

"I'm glad her doctor is Kathy Martin. Is that why you're in Carmel? Were you visiting?"

Perry shook his head. "No. We came here to…to get away from the stress of too many trials. The last case took a lot out of Della and she seemed more tired than usual. I thought a change of scenery would be good for her. Little did I know…"

Mae placed her hand on top of his head and played with the wildly disarrayed waves. "You couldn't have known, Perry. And even if she did feel bad, Della wouldn't have admitted it. She never does. She takes care of everyone around her but never admits to her own frailties."

"She claimed a bath was all she needed," he said quietly. "A bath and a cup of tea and she would be fine."

"That's always been her treatment for whatever ailed her. She likes…Perry, look. She's opening her eyes."

Perry unzipped the oxygen tent and slid his hand over Della's. "Hi, precious girl," he said. "Look who's here to see you."

Her eyes seemed glazed and unfocused as she struggled to identify who stood beside Perry. "Aunt Mae." Her voice was nothing more than a quiet rasp.

"Hello dear. I'm glad you're awake."

"How long…" Della attempted a deep breath, fought back a cough and swallowed with effort. "Hurts," she croaked.

"Do you want a drink of water, baby? I'll have Cynthia bring some ice water."

Della nodded and watched him with enormous, shadowed eyes as he stood and walked with weary stiffness from the room. "Sleep," she said with great effort, turning her head toward her aunt. "Make him sleep."

Mae sat down in the chair next to her niece, shaking her head. "You amaze me, Della. We were just talking about how you look out for everyone but yourself, and the first thing you say to me after regaining consciousness is to take care of Perry."

"He worries too much."

Mae laughed quietly. "When it comes to you, yes, I suppose he does. But I'd say he has every right to be worried right now. From what he's told me, you've been very sick. But you're getting better, aren't you?"

Della looked around the room listlessly, eyes still slightly unfocused. "Better," she parroted. "Because…him. Because of him."

Mae could have cried at her niece's admission. It was the most she had ever verbally revealed to her about her relationship with Perry. "I'm glad, Della."

Perry re-entered the room, blonde and buxom Cynthia Powell R.N. close on his heels. Together they rolled back the plastic of the oxygen tent and with barely contained eagerness Perry slid his arm beneath Della's shoulders and gently lifted her so she could sip from the straw Cynthia held for her. After a few weak gulps, Perry felt her go limp and her head fell back against his supportive arm, and he reluctantly laid her down on the pillows.

Cynthia straightened with a satisfied expression on her face. "That was really good, sweetie," she praised Della. "Dr. Spencer will be very pleased."

"Kathy?"

Perry took advantage of the absence of the barrier of plastic and smoothed his hand over her cheek, loving the sensation of touching her skin, even though it felt dry and unfamiliar. "Kathy's not on duty right now, baby. But she'll be back tomorrow. She'll come see you right away. I can't wait to tell her what a good day you've had."

"Good day," she again parroted. "Kiss…kiss me."

Quickly, too quickly for Cynthia to protest, Perry bent and kissed her forehead, her cheek, her lips. She closed her eyes and let out a contented sigh. When she was awake her breathing seemed deeper and less labored. He couldn't wait for when the oxygen tent was no longer necessary and he could comfort her how he knew best. "I love you," he whispered into her ear.

Cynthia was already unfurling the plastic, efficiently tucking it beneath the mattress to re-establish the seal. Della whimpered a bit, raised her hand a few inches from the mattress and then let it fall back in defeat. It broke Perry's heart. He wished he could crawl into the plastic cave with her and hold her how she wanted.

"Her lips…they're dry." He turned to the nurse. "There is a little split in her bottom lip. It must hurt her."

Cynthia nodded. "I'll get some Vaseline for her lips. Pure oxygen is drying. We're pumping fluid into her, but that never seems to keep the lips from cracking and peeling. We'll put more lotion on her hands and face as well." She checked the IV bottles, the oxygen tank dial, and made a notation in Della's chart that hung at the foot of the bed. With a swift smile at Perry and Mae, she bustled from the room.

Mae had been watching Della closely and was relieved to see that she was resting peacefully and her chest seemed to be expanding and contracting more naturally. "As sick as she is, she's still the boss," Mae observed.

Perry started at Mae's choice of words and chuckled. "Yes, she is. But I'll gladly do anything she wants. Anything."

"You always have, haven't you? Done whatever she wants, that is. She's never really been just your secretary."

Perry smiled down at Della, then up at Mae, wondering what he could say that wouldn't upset Della later if she found out. "Mae, five years ago I had my practice, a moderate amount of success, a few friends, a long-term relationship…and I was simply existing, just going through the motions. Then one day the most beautiful, smartest, caring woman I had ever met walked into my office and I came alive." He looked down at Della again with aching tenderness. "She changed me. What I give to her or do for her pales in comparison to what she's given me."

Mae swallowed hard. "Well." She cleared her throat of a threatening quaver. "She told me to make you sleep. Since she's having such a good day and I'm here now, you are going to follow her orders."

"Mae, I'm so tired I don't think I can put up much of a fight aside from saying for the millionth time that I promised I wouldn't leave her."

Mae picked up the folded green quilt from the foot of the bed, shoved it into his arms, turned him, and propelled him toward the door. "Take this back to your hotel. For some reason that very sick girl is more worried about you than about herself. If you get some sleep and show up looking more human, she'll be much happier. And if she's happy…"

He spun around and grabbed her shoulders. "I'm happy," he finished. "I won't be gone long. I'll shower, change, and be right back."

"You'll do nothing of the sort. She specifically told me to make you sleep, and sleep you will. I don't want you back here for at least six hours."

"I'll be back in three." He hugged Mae quickly before she could argue. "I can't break my promise to her. She wakes up a bit confused and has dreams…she talks about somebody leaving her. If she wakes up again, tell her I'll be right back so she doesn't get agitated. And please make sure Cynthia puts something on her lips."

Mae gave him one last push toward the door. "Get out of here. I'll take over the worrying for a while. Sleep, Perry. It's what she wants."