A/N: Let me start off by saying I'm INCREDIBLY SORRY for the delay. No excuse is one hundred percent valid, but I hope mine comes close enough: not only was I hit, ironically enough, by a pulmonary infection AND a throat/ ear infection, but I also had two portfolios to deliver till this past Friday. So you can imagine how my life became hectic in a matter of days -.-'
Also, a HUGE THANK YOU to all the lovely reviewers, followers and favoriters. YOU MADE MY DAYS! : ))))
Now, on with the story, and once again, I'm terribly sorry, and hope you enjoy!
"So, Sister, are you terribly itchy to get out of that bed?"
Sister Bernadette offered Trixie a very enthusiastic smile. "Oh, you took the words right out of my mouth."
Trixie laughed and grabbed the sheets she had been sent to change. Judging from the badly treated dark circles under her eyes, Sister Bernadette needed more than medicine to be completely healed. "I recommend a two-day exposure to fresh air, green gardens and a stroll on the busy streets. You'll be good as new, missy." She thickened her voice, impersonating a doctor.
Sister Bernadette smiled. "I feel unstoppable, Trixie. It is a superb feeling, compared to what I have been experiencing these last few days."
"Quite true, Sister. Quite true." She opened the curtains and teased. "Although some days were better than others, I assume."
The convalescing nun blushed and eyed her hands. "I do not know what you are referring to. I must say there is nothing joyful in pneumonia, and all days were an equal nuisance."
"I can't believe you." Trixie turned around to face her, a mocking hand on her hip. "So you're telling me all the visits from little Timothy didn't brighten your days?"
Sister Bernadette's heart skipped a beat in anticipation and then raised an eyebrow, admonishing the nurse's teasing. "Of course they did. I love that little boy. He's very intelligent, and a pleasure to talk to."
"Of course, just like his father. It's in the genes, you know?" Trixie commented lightly, trying not to drop the pile of sheets from her hands while rearranging the vase of flowers on the nightstand. "Anyway, I have the Johnson's babies to check on in half an hour, so I should get going."
"Of course, Trix. Thank you for the wonderful visit, although I could have taken care of my room today." She waved the busy blonde goodbye. "I will see you at dinner."
"Nonsense. I'll be saving you a seat, Sister." Trixie winked back and closed the door behind her.
Sister Bernadette was left to her own thoughts, and even if she would never admit it to anyone, she allowed herself to enjoy the last of the naps she would be able to enjoy in a (thankfully) very long time.
CALLTHEMIDWIFECALLTHEMIDWIFE
It was four in the afternoon, and Sister Bernadette had just finished reading when her door opened with great noise.
"Timmy." She acknowledged, smiling openly. "It is so good to see you."
The boy ran to her and hugged her. "I'm so gald you're feeling better, Sister. You had us worried for a moment, there." He added in a serious voice.
"Not only am I feeling better, but I am also totally healed, Timothy. I am only resting because your silly father insisted that I stay here until dinner." She informed him, tickling him.
He laughed. "He's not silly, he's just worried. Although Sister Julienne tells me I often confuse both things."
"You are not the only one." She patted his head gently. "Come on, grab a chair and tell me all about school."
The dark-haired boy quickly complied and set his books on her bed as he sat down on the woodened chair. He sighed. "Nothing exciting to report today, I'm afraid, Sister. I showed Miss James the drawing we made together, and she showed it to the class, but then said she was out of pins to hang it and put it in her drawer…" He finished, sulking. "I wanted Dad to see it on the wall. I even wrote our names in the front so everyone could see who drew it."
"Oh, it is not a problem. We can draw another, and I can hang it in our living-room, what do you say, Timmy?"
His eyes widened, excited. "Are you serious? Near your sewing machine?"
"Precisely there." She smiled. "And every time your dad gets called in, he will see it."
"Awesome, Sister. You're the best." He hugged her again. "I'll have to think of a theme, though."
She nodded. "You do that, and I will do the same. Between us, I think we will be able to come up with a very nice theme, and maybe have the drawing ready for when your father comes to pick you up."
Timothy assented, his mind already busy with planning, subconsciously playing with the pencil in one hand. After a few minutes and a very animated gasp of inspiration, he came up with the idea of drawing the front entrance of the convent, and the three of them on the stairs, which Sister Bernadette keenly agreed on.
Using only one pencil, they drew for an hour, and Timothy would offer Sister Bernadette the chance to draw whatever part he could not. Sister Bernadette drew all their faces, and the little boy did the shadows on their bodies.
"You are incredibly talented, Timmy." She stated, impressed, as he finished shadowing the windows.
He blushed. "Thank you, Sister. Dad should be coming soon, I can't wait to show him."
They wrote their names, and soon enough, there was a knock on the door.
"Dad!" Timothy greeted, grinning.
"Hello, son." Dr. Turner ruffled his hair teasingly, ignoring the playful frown as the boy straightened it.
"Dad… Sister Bernadette's here." He grumbled.
"And you have to look your best?" He patted his shoulder, while eyeing the grinning nun. He noticed her hands had graphite spots, so he guessed they had been drawing. She smiled directly into his eyes, and he fought the urge to brush her hand. Instead he ran his through his hair, now suddenly concerned with his rushed appearance. "The Jackson's mother was in a foul mood." He explained, slightly embarrassed, and tucked his shirt in.
She shook her head subtly, smiling as he tried to make himself more presentable. "You look very well, Doctor. And you certainly sound happy."
He sat on her bed, careful not to touch her feet. "I get to come home, now, and Mercer has a new baby girl making her smile, so all is well in this kingdom."
Timothy laughed. "Babies cry, Dad, don't forget that. I'm sure that lady won't smile when she can't sleep at night because the little girl's crying."
"It's her daughter, Timmy. I sure wouldn't complain hearing my daughter cry if it meant I knew she was there."
He rolled his eyes, seeking support in Sister Bernadette. "Yes, yes… when I get a little sister, I'll be reminding you of what you just said."
Dr. Turner blushed slightly. "Please, do."
An awkward silence set in, and Sister Bernadette took it as an opportunity to nudge Timmy. "Show him." She whispered.
"Show me what?" Dr. Turner inquired, curious.
Timothy grabbed a concealed and slightly ruffled paper from the pile beside his books and nervously, and yet proudly, handed it to the doctor, who gasped. "But, Timothy, this is fantastic!"
Sister Bernadette acquiesced vigorously. "That is exactly what I told him. It is quite a gift to see reality in these terms."
"Indeed. The light… and the shadows. Wonderful job, son, thank you very much." He kissed the little boy's cheek, much to the latter's contentment. "Where do we suppose we should hang it? Next to your diplomas?"
Timothy shook his head. "Hum, Dad, I was thinking… since Sister Bernadette helped me…" He started, hesitant. "I was thinking we could hang it here in the convent. Sister Bernadette suggested the living-room."
"She did?" He looked at her, grateful, and subtly allowed his fingers to meet hers.
"Yes. And then we could all come see it every once in a while." Timothy added. "And if we were to hang it in our place, Sister Bernadette wouldn't see it anymore."
"Oh…" He found no smart reply to the boy's logic. Sister Bernadette focused on the fabric, entwining her fingers in his. "Well, I guess it's settled, then. Can you…" He coughed. "Can you go see if Sister Julienne helps you put it up?"
Timothy grabbed the drawing from his dad and happily left the room, closing the door with a noticeable noise. Dr. Turner chuckled. "That boy…"
"Yes." Sister Bernadette agreed, a smile playing on her lips.
They stood in silence for a while, each eyeing one another, swallowing occasionally despite the lumps in their throats. He furrowed his eyebrows as Sister Bernadette's gaze unfocused and she bit her lip.
"Is anything the matter, Sister?"
"I was wondering…" She gulped, her cheeks rose with slight embarrassment. He encouraged her. "I was wondering if I could say something."
"Anything." He promptly replied, firming the grasp on her hand.
She sighed, nervous, glancing at the door.
"He'll be a while."
"Okay." She inhaled. "Okay, then." She sat up straight, her back now leaning against nothing at all, which brought her closer to him. "I am a woman of principles. I always have been, and always will be. You do understand that, am I right?"
He nodded, deflating a little with her words.
"Having said that, I was wondering… if you would wait for me."
His eyes widened, his lips parted in a mist of confusion and disbelief.
"Would you wait for me, even if I could promise you nothing? Even if I could only promise you I would do everything in my power to figure out where I stand, where you stand in my life?" She breathed. "Would you wait… if I told you I would try?"
Unable to respond, he gently squeezes her hand, barely in control of his emotions.
"I know it is not much what I have to offer you. However, if I am not terribly mistaken… there is something here." She finished softly, her eyes seeking for reassurance. "Am I… am I right?"
He cleared his head, and then his throat, and then he looked at her once more. "My dear…" He grabbed both her hands. "I'll wait for you for as long as it takes."
Sister Bernadette sighed, relieved, her eyes betraying her with the secrets she sought to hide. "My sweet man… you cannot possibly know how much that means to me."
"I think I can." He grinned out of sheer nervousness. "It means twice as much to me."
She chuckled and brushed his hand with her thumb. "Not everything is a competition."
"As if anyone dared to fight me on this." He teased.
"Give me a week, will you?" She asked, still nervous.
He nodded, suddenly serious. "We have all the time in the world, my dear. You have my word." He kissed her hand and they waited patiently for Timothy's return, perfectly content with just enjoying the ghost of the promise of a better tomorrow.