Where the Streets Have No Name
Chapter 96
We're back to Edward...
Edward sat by Carmen's bedside with a squirming Ella in his lap. They had been there quite a bit longer than their usual visits. Renee's daughter was due to arrive that day, and he wanted to give the woman some unencumbered time to spend with her family. She definitely had earned it.
Ella was rapidly becoming impatient. She was at that age; she didn't enjoy having her movements curbed, and was making her displeasure known by yelping every time her father dissuaded her from reaching for the numerous wires and tubes that were connected to the machines her mother was hooked to.
"Sshh. Don't, Ella," Edward said once again as he pulled his daughter away from making a grab for the IV line.
Ella began to cry in earnest as a result. The few toys that her father had brought along to keep her distracted had lost their appeal by then. There wasn't much in the sparse room that could keep a child Ella's age amused for long.
She didn't understand the significance these visits represented. It was doubtful if she even recognized the prone figure on the bed as her mother.
Perhaps Elvira is right, Edward mused.
Maybe she'll understand in a year or two, he thought.
A year.
Or two.
Perhaps more.
The very real prospect that Carmen's condition could remain unchanged in a year's time chilled his bones.
He couldn't fathom how he would ever get used to such a fate. Or internalize such acceptance. To be tied to his greatest source of guilt and torment indefinitely.
"Ella is here to see you, Carmen," he said. "I don't know if you can hear me, but I want you to know that she's doing well. Remember I told you that she has a new nanny? Renee takes real good care of her. She's happy, and healthy." He paused.
Ella's cries were getting louder. Soon it might summon a nurse who would courteously ask him to remove Ella from the wing. Although why it mattered he didn't understand. Nearly all the patients on this floor were in various stages of unconsciousness. Ella's cries probably wouldn't even register in their brains. However, the visitors and the loved ones who came to spend time with them were a different matter altogether. They very well could be put off by the relentless wailing of a cranky child.
"Carmen, if you can hear me, please wake up. I'm sorry I yelled at you. I'm sorry I said those horrible things. But how could you do this to me? To Ella?"
He sighed deeply. These were more or less the same words he conveyed to Carmen every week, with slight changes in details. His phrasing varied, but the message was always the same.
He searched Carmen's face for any sign of awareness. He found none.
In just a few short months her face had begun to host the telltale signs of droopy muscles and slacking jaw, weakened from disuse.
Her skin was pale. Paler than she had ever been in life.
Life?
She was alive.
Technically, at least.
She was still his wife. His next of kin. And so she would remain. Always.
Unless she woke up.
Or...
He wanted to be free of her. Now he was cuffed to her irrevocably for the rest of her natural life.
The irony wasn't lost on him.
There would be no moving on for him. He would be defined by Carmen from here on. She would surround him from every direction while lying still on this bed.
Was this his punishment for wanting to be happy? To forge a life for himself and Ella with fewer burdens?
"I'll see you next week, Carmen," he finally said, as he gathered up Ella and the tote bag that accompanied her to head for home.
He hoped his prolonged visit had allowed Renee to spend some quality time with her daughter. He wasn't too concerned to have a house guest for the weekend. He trusted Renee not to have spawned a social delinquent. From the way Renee spoke of her, she sounded like a responsible and level headed young adult.
It was only for a couple of days.
Hope she doesn't smoke.
Thank you Lulabelle98, HeidiJoVT, and Dinx.
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