Duty With Honor Book Five: An Unexpected Pause

by Jordan Bollinger

  And, I take full responsibility for not remembering to have a picture taken of James for you. None of the men thought about it, and he was already buried before I considered that perhaps, we should have done.

  Andrew was inconsolable over James, and terrified you were going to die as well. There was a time we feared for his sanity. Please remember he lost James too. He has barely left your side, and even then, your father had to almost threaten him to bathe, eat, and sleep. I am sure he is going to be stoic for your sake, but he will need comforting, as well.

  Don't be overly concerned over our health. The fact is we're both getting older and more set in our ways. Once we knew you would be all right -- and wake in your own time -- we decided we'd go home and keep some doctor's appointments. The English winter was also taking its toll on us.

  Once you're awake and are ready for company, we'll come back. And, while it might not be the visit we all expected, take comfort in the friends and family you do have.

  All my love, Mom

  The letter dropped to her lap, as the dam broke, and she cried in earnest.

  Chapter Seventeen

  "Bethy," Richard called to her from the door. She looked up into his face. There were lines on his forehead that she didn't remember him having before and he looked pale. It made her see how much he loved her, how much he'd worried about her, and how much he grieved over his nephew's death.

  She gave him a brittle smile, which apparently gave him the idea he could come into the room. He came over and hugged her.

  "Beth, I know all this has hit you very hard, but please know we all love you. We've been worried over you for a month." He kissed her cheek and added, "I know it's not the same, but I do understand your loss. Remember we lost two babies between Sarah and the twins."

  She opened her mouth to speak, but he rushed on before she could say anything, "Yes, they were miscarriages. Cathy hadn't even felt any movement yet. But," he continued, "they were our children, and they were taken from us. Perhaps, if she was still with us, she could help you accept things. But she's gone, as well.

  "The truth is I don't believe you or Andrew will ever forget James. None of us will. You know that any of us would have done anything to keep all this from happening. But, there was nothing any of us could do. And, in the end, we must accept things."

  "Yes, Richard. I do understand that. But, I didn't get to hold him. I didn't even get to see him."

  Richard stayed mute for a moment, and then said, "He was perfect Beth. He had your face and Andrew's hair -- a mass of it. Although, it did look a little bit curly.

  "I'm sorry, Bethy. We're all so sorry. But, the truth is we don't know how to help. All we know is how very thankful we are that we still have you."

  "I know, Richard. I'm still trying to process things. And, I do see you all have been concerned about me. But losing James is a bitter pill for me to swallow."

  "I understand, but please let Father spend some time with you. And then you and Andrew need to grieve together. You need to comfort and console one another."

  She wished she could make him understand -- make him see how she felt. But, her mom had been right. No one would truly understand how she had not only lost her child. She had been prevented from holding him -- even once. Or, from even seeing him. And she knew she would never have any true memory of him.

  No one would ever understand the agony she was going through. No one. Ever!

  *****

  Andrew helped her to and from the bathroom. He stood over her and encouraged her to eat. He even continued to read to her. About twice a day, he insisted they walk around the hallway, so she could get her muscle tone back.

  But, he knew she was just giving over to him. If he'd told her they were going to jump rope in the hallways, he really believed she wouldn't fight him.

  She had pulled into herself. She talked when spoken to, and even smiled occasionally. But she wouldn't open up to him. He didn't know what to do. His father-in-law told him to be her rock. But, she didn't seem to want a rock.

  She didn't even seem to want a friend -- let alone a husband.

  *****

  On the fourth morning after Beth awakened, the doctors' all decided there was no reason for her to remain in the hospital, and sent her home. She'd need to slowly increase her activity level, and work her way through light, bland food. But, there was no reason why she couldn't go home. And so she did.

  She'd made a blanket announcement to the family that she didn't want any visitors for several days. She needed to rest, walk a bit, and try to grapple with the horrible blow she'd been dealt.

  Everyone gave in and agreed to stay away. Everyone, that is, but Andrew. He was going to be there with her. Hovering.

  She knew she was being unfair. Andrew was doing his best to be supportive and thoughtful.

  He had arranged for shell macaronis in chicken broth, with lots of grated Asiago cheese and fresh, coarsely ground pepper. It was one of her most favorite comfort food dinners; and she appreciated his thoughtfulness. The problem was it didn't fill the hole in her heart.

  After they'd eaten, Andrew ordered a tea tray before he helped her upstairs. As much as she hated to admit it, the long staircase really took a lot out of her. So, she didn't object to sitting quietly and sipping on several cups of strong Scottish Breakfast. She even allowed Drew to continue reading the Agatha Christie they'd begun the evening before.

  When he finished a chapter, she stood up, saying, "I'm going to go take a shower."

  Andrew jumped up, but before he could speak, she stated flatly, "Alone. I just want to stand under the shower for a while. You have no idea how grimy I feel."

  "I'll leave you alone," Drew assured her. "But, please leave the door ajar, so I can hear if you should call me."

  She let out an exaggerated sigh, but agreed, "All right."

  She slowly gathered up a nightgown, slippers, and a robe, and headed into the bathroom. As requested, she left the door cracked open -- a bit.

  She stripped off her clothes and folded them neatly. Why, she had no idea. It was funny, for she was fairly neat about everything except about clothes she shed. In fact, Andrew had gotten into the habit of picking up after her. He was always very tidy about his clothes -- but his desk was piled high with old papers.

  She was surprised how she'd actually smiled over the thought. Well, it was kind of a smile. She purposefully kept her back to the floor to ceiling mirror as she undressed.

  Only when she was completely naked, did she turn around and study the woman staring back at her.

  Before the pregnancy, her breasts had been pretty good for an almost-fifty year-old woman. They had swelled as her belly had, and now they sagged. Not horribly -- but still. Excess skin, stretched out as James had grown, hung a bit, and there was no denying that she now definitely had a belly.

  However, the worst part of her new body was the awful, toothless grin formed by the two surgery scars, as it smiled back at her from the mirror -- mocking her.

  She was now old. No matter what tripe Andrew spewed out, there was no denying, she was old. She had the body of an old, broken woman. All the designer clothing and expensive jewelry in the world wouldn't conceal it.

  She thought about the last time she'd looked at herself in this mirror. It had been only a short while before James had died. She'd smiled at her huge, rotund belly, because she knew her son was growing strong and healthy. She'd cradled it -- him -- in her hands and smiled at the thought of how she would be holding him soon.

  But she wasn't holding him. She would never hold him. She would never even know what he had looked like. Her son was gone, and she didn't understand why she was still alive. What was the point?

  Everything was spoiled.

  She knew her family loved her -- that they'd grieved over James' death. She knew they'd feared she, too, might have died. But, they'd gone on with their lives. Somehow they had managed to accept James' passing and move on.

  She didn't understand that.
She didn't know how to interact with them anymore. She didn't even know how to react to Andrew. He had changed. There was some, indefinable change in him. He might as well have been a stranger, because she no longer knew him -- the person he was now.

  She opened the heavy, glass door of the shower, turned on the water, and waited for it to be warm enough for her to endure. Then she stepped into the shower and allowed the water to run over her. She tried to find pleasure in the warm rush of water flowing over her.

  But she found no joy in it. Instead, she slid down the glass wall, until she was sitting on the tile floor of the shower, with her knees drawn up in front of her. She wrapped her arms around her knees, buried her head in her arms, and sobbed inconsolably.

  Chapter Eighteen

  Andrew tried to read the afternoon paper and leave Beth to shower in peace, but he couldn't help being concerned about her. He poured another cup of tea and gulped it down. But he couldn't stop looking towards that bathroom door.

  He did his best to wait for her to either come out, or call to him. In the end, he had to go to the door. It was then he heard her crying over the noise of the falling water. He knew she wanted her privacy -- that she wanted time to be alone with her sorrow. But he couldn't not go to her.

  He pressed the unlatched door open, walked in, and slipped off his shoes. Then, he opened the shower, stepped in, sat beside her -- fully dressed -- and pulled her close to him. With her face buried against his sopping shirt, he cried with her.

  He knew he shouldn't. His father-in-law had been very specific about the need to be strong. But, it was their loss -- together. And, he needed to release some of the pent up grief that filled his soul.

  After all, they were being drenched in water. The sound of it -- the wetness of it would surely be enough to cover up his breakdown -- to hide his weakness. He held her tenderly, praying she didn't realize he was sobbing with her. He held her until finally, the water became cold and he knew they had to get out.

  He stood up, gently pulling her up along with him, making soft, soothing noises as he did so. To his relief, she didn't fight him. Instead, she allowed him to dry her body, and slip the nightgown over her head. To his chagrin, her nakedness stirred desire in him.

  He was ashamed of himself -- to feel desire, to even think of sex, at this junction of their life sickened him. But, it had been nearly five months without making love to her. That had taken a toll of its own. They had abstained from sex once they found out about Beth's pregnancy -- even though the doctor had said that sex, in moderation, was fine.

  They'd spoken about it, and decided that if they did continue with their physical relationship, and anything happened to James, they would always blame themselves. So, they'd resisted their natural appetites. It didn't seem to have mattered. In the end, James had died, and his death had nearly been Beth's death as well.

  Andrew did his best to hide his erection as he towel dried her hair, before sending her in to bed. Once she was gone, he stripped off his wet clothes, did what he could to relieve his tension quickly and then went out to the bedroom.

  He had hoped, now that they were home again in their own bed, that she would be more receptive to him holding her. He had missed her so very much. Of course, he missed their intimacies -- but it was her company he missed. Her conversation and her wind-chime laughter.

  God, how he loved her. He missed her. And he wanted her back.

  He understood that things would never be as they were. James had changed all that. But, he didn't understand why they couldn't get back to a loving, fulfilling relationship. He didn't see why she couldn't accept James' passing -- because the reality of the thing was there was no other option.

  He'd suggested that they form a scholarship for deserving but under-privileged boys to go to Eton. He wanted to donate a new wing to a building at Cambridge. He offered to establish a fund to research Placental Abruption, in the hope of saving other babies. After all, she was instrumental in forming Cathy's Legacy Trust in the US. He thought she would see this as a way to honor their son, to remember him, and yet still move forward with their life together.

  However, all his suggestions fell on deaf ears. Her body was there, but it was as if her heart, mind, and soul were lost. He had to discover a way to find them and get them back to her again.

  When he entered their bedroom, he found her sitting up stiffly, clearly on her side of the bed. The only light came from the lamp on his nightstand, so her face was hidden in shadow. Once again, he wondered how he could comfort her, and lead her back on the path that had been their life?

  The problem was he never received an answer.

  *****

  Beth allowed Andrew to pull her closer to him. Then she turned to face him. There had been a moment -- just a moment -- earlier in the shower, when she felt connected to him again. She'd felt he'd found his way back to her.

  And then, in a second, he was gone. He'd dried her abruptly, tugged the gown over her head and rubbed her hair dry like she was one of the dogs.

  That fragile bond between them had broken. She was terribly afraid that more than James had died. Their affection and friendship was on quaking ground. And that made her feel as though their very love was crumbling. She was afraid to even think about what was happening to their passion.

  She'd been thinking of something. She knew Andrew would balk. But, as she'd been sitting in bed and waiting for him, she'd come to a decision. There wasn't going to be a good time to tell him. So, now was as good a time as ever.

  "Andrew," she began, as he hugged her, "I've been doing a lot of thinking. I believe part of the problem I'm having accepting everything and getting back on track with my life, is because I'm a month behind everyone else."

  "I can understand that," Drew told her.

  "So, I think I need some time to myself, to try and catch up with all the rest of you."

  "What do you mean time to myself?"

  She heard the worry creeping into his voice, but she wasn't going to let him dissuade her. "If I had my way, I'd get on a train and just go, until I found some place I liked, get off, and find a place to stay."

  Andrew had bolted up, but before he had a chance to get out a word of protest, she hurried on, "But, I realize that none of you all would ever agree to that."

  "Well, no, Beth. We love you. We've been worried about you. And, now that you're awake again, we want you around."

  "I realize that. But, the thing is, if you're all around, I'm not alone. Now, I clearly see that I'd never manage to just go away. So, I'm going to call Richard in the morning and ask if I can camp out in my old room.

  "He was in the middle of redoing my room after Gregory and Meeker destroyed it when we found out about James. Once he found out about that, he knocked out the back wall to include what used to be a very large storage closet and added a wall kitchen.

  "It's an actual apartment now. So, I'll be completely on my own. Yet, I'll be safe and secure, so you, and Father, and Richard don't have to obsess over me."

  "Well," Drew said, solemnly, "I suppose that would be all right. I can just swing by and pick you up to take you in to the office and then--"

  "No, Andrew. You aren't listening to me. I want to be alone."

  "But, I thought you wanted to return to work?"

  "I do. But I'm perfectly able to get myself back and forth to work. I am not going to be interacting with Richard and the kids. I'm just going to stay alone in my room, to get my head around things."

  Even in the near dark, she saw the tiny frown morph into a kind of petulant pout on Andrew's face. She was afraid he wouldn't understand. She just wanted some time without people fussing over her. She wanted time to just think about all that had happened in the last year. And then try and move forward.

  To her surprise, he reached out for her hand, kissed her knuckles, and acquiesced, "All right."

  "And, remember if I should decide I want to have a real meal or company there will be people there."

  "All r
ight," he repeated, but she heard the frustration in his voice, making her fully aware of his displeasure.

  *****

  Of course, Richard had no objection to Beth staying with them, even though she wasn't at all sure he understood how she planned on being sequestered. So, she packed up a small suitcase and took it with her when she left for Vauxhall Cross.

  If it hadn't been for the thin film of dust covering the surfaces of the tiny apartment/office, she wouldn't have believed she'd been gone over a month. Except for the fact she was no longer pregnant. Don't think about it, she told herself.

  Beth spent the majority of the morning reviewing the last few things she'd been working on before her illness.

  Just before noon, Bridget knocked on the door frame of the open door. When Beth gestured for her to enter, Bridget was followed by an unknown janitorial worker.

  "Is it all right if Bobbi gives your office a quick dust up? We didn't want to do anything while you were gone."

  "Of course," Beth answered. She jumped up and asked, "Would you like me to leave?"

  "Oh, no. That's why I've waited until you were here and had a chance to get things organized again.

  "Protocol requires that at least one of us be in here with any worker at all times. It is, until you've completed this assignment, your office. While you were out on sick leave, no one came in here -- for any reason. I'm sure you found it a bit dusty.

  "I was able to keep up with things while you were here every day," Bridget said, smiling. "I bet you never even realized I tidied something up whenever I came in. But, after being shut up for more than a month, it needs a thorough brush up."