Part 5.1 – Different Dreams

Dr. Kathy Spencer was inordinately pleased at the progress Della had made since the frightening spontaneous evacuation of her lungs, and she looked forward to telling everyone that the oxygen tent would be going away and that Della would be transferred out of the C.C.U. soon. Della was alert, a bit crabby even, her breathing almost normal, her speech much improved as it became easier to take in sufficient air. Kathy made a few scribbles on the chart she was holding and glanced up at the little scuffle taking place at the head of the bed.

Della was using her newly restored powers of speech to harangue Louise and the new girl Joyce about the bath they were giving her, wanting to do everything herself. Kathy had to smile as she remembered the story Uncle Jim – Della's father – had told often about his daughter's first 'sentence'. "Della do it," she had said at only fourteen months of age, remarkably clear and purposeful. It was nice to know that some things never changed.

"We know Della can do it," Kathy said lightly, hanging the chart on the hook. "But until I say differently, you are a patient in this hospital and patients don't bathe themselves. Sit still and enjoy it."

Della stuck out her tongue. "Bossy as always," she retorted. She couldn't believe Kathy had remembered 'Della do it'. But then her father had told the story of her first sentence ad nauseam, along with a few other embarrassing stories.

Kathy laughed. "Look who's talking. I'll bet that when you raise an eyebrow, Jamie and Robbie still jump."

Della laughed and didn't cough. Kathy noted that with increasing satisfaction. "It works on Perry, too."

Kathy leaned against the hospital bed, arms folded. "Speaking of Mr. Mason, I've been wanting to tell you how much I like him."

"We all like him," Louise joined in, then blushed. "He's been very appreciative and courteous."

Louise and Joyce moved away from the bed, finally satisfied with their efforts to spiff up their patient. Clean sheets, a clean gown, clean hair, lotion applied from head to toe, Vaseline on cracked but healing lips. They gathered the soiled linens and exited the room.

Della gave a delayed laugh. "Appreciative and courteous?"

Kathy grinned. "I think the nurses have a terrible crush on him. He does have a way about him."

"Yes, he certainly does." Della suddenly felt awkward. Up to now she hadn't been alone with Kathy. How could she talk to her? What could she say to her former best friend, the friend she thought of as a sister, who at one time was supposed to be her sister? How could she talk to her after all the years of not talking to her, least of all talk to her about Perry?

Kathy was looking at Della with an unreadable expression. How could she talk to Della? They had been best friends, almost sisters, and then…nothing. Gregg's death had torn them all apart, but Della had turned inward in her grief, had run away from her and whatever comfort they could have given each other. It had hurt as much as losing Gregg.

The silence between them grew uncomfortable until Kathy made a decision to start over. "I'm so glad to see you again, String Bean."

"If you want me to act like I'm happy to see you," Della responded dryly, "don't call me String Bean, Tooter."

"Shhh! Don't say that so loud!" She grinned again. "At least I outgrew my nickname. How do you stay so thin?"

"It's called the pneumonia diet," Della reminded her. "I'm glad to see you, too."

"I'd never been so shocked in my life when I realized it was you lying in the emergency room. I didn't know you were living in California."

"The boys or my mother didn't tell you?"

Kathy eyed her shrewdly. "You've known all along we've kept in touch?"

Della smoothed the sheet across her hips to give her hands something to do. "Of course."

"I asked about you for a while, then it became too hurtful to hear about your life from the boys when I should have been hearing it directly from you."

"I know," Della said softly, almost too softly to be heard over the hiss of the oxygen tank. "I'm sorry I hurt you."

"Della, it wasn't your fault what happened to Gregg. None of us blamed you. It was a terrible accident."

"I know," she repeated. "I know it logically. But the heart isn't logical. You may not have blamed me, but I sure as hell blamed myself."

"Why didn't you talk to me? We could have helped each other."

Della gave a small laugh, almost a cough. "Because I had to do it my way. That shouldn't surprise you."

"I don't think it surprised anyone, except we never dreamed your way would be to completely shut us out."

"It was too much, Kath. Too much at one time. I'd never lost anyone before, not even a grandparent, and losing the two most important men in my life so close together…losing my past and my future…" she stopped talking and blinked back tears furiously. "There was no money and I couldn't go to college, and Dad's business partners mismanaged the business so I didn't even have that. When Robbie graduated, I had to get away. Aunt Mae had moved out here, so I begged her to let me stay with her. I got a job and made friends and felt almost normal again."

"When did you meet Perry?"

Della ran her hand under nose and sniffed. "Five-and-a-half years ago for the first time. Four-and-a-half years ago he hired me as his confidential secretary." She coughed.

Kathy grabbed a towel and passed it through the zippered opening of the oxygen tent. "All that time and you aren't married?"

Della's gave her a grateful look and coughed into the towel. "No."

"That's all you have to say?"

"That's all I'm going to say."

"Della, it's obvious he has very deep feelings for you, and you were impossible unless he was around. Please tell me you aren't still mourning Gregg."

"I will always mourn Gregg. I was supposed to be married to him."

Kathy searched her old friend's eyes for meaning to her words. "Are you really still carrying all that guilt? Della, from what I've seen, Perry loves you like I can only hope my husband loves me, and you won't marry him because you feel guilty that Gregg died?"

"Gregg was supposed to be my husband," Della said again, more fretfully than before. "I know I loved him. But I can't remember how it felt to love him."

Kathy sat down heavily on the edge of the bed. "Della, you need to talk to someone about this. I've only had one psych rotation, but even I can see you haven't completely dealt with Gregg's death. I can refer you to a psychologist in Los –"

"No! I – I don't need that. I'm happy. We're happy, just the way things are."

"Della, this isn't even close to being fair to Perry. He deserves better. He's everything we could have wanted for you." She now realized she couldn't tell him about the conversation she had with Perry, how he had admitted his love for her, how she had told him about Gregg.

"Mom doesn't like him."

Kathy waved her hand. "She got a bad first impression. He was frantic and out of control, and I don't blame him."

Della shook her head. "She met him two years ago. I took him home for Thanksgiving."

"She just needs to get to know him better."

"I hope so. He's going to be around a long time."

"But you're not going to marry him?"

"For crying out loud, Kath, times are different. People don't have to get married."

"It sure makes things easier on the kids."

"Kids? Who said anything about kids?" Della's voice rose in startled agitation.

"You always wanted to be a mother. Four kids, remember? Two boys, Jonathan and Andrew; two girls Alison and Bethany. "

Della didn't say anything for long, quiet seconds, stunned that Kathy had remembered. "That was my dream with Gregg. I have different dreams now."

"That settles it," Kathy announced, getting to her feet, "I'm giving Perry the name of a good psychologist in Los Angeles. You need help."

Della's eyes flashed. "Don't you dare, Kathy! Perry doesn't know…oh my God, you didn't tell him about Gregg did you? Did you?"

Kathy was spared answering by the arrival of the entire Street clan, boisterous from Louise's favorable report on Della's current condition.