“Hurts,” he whispered tightly.
Another nurse, Eva, came running into the room as Caitlin slowly got to her feet.
“Page the resident, Dr. Foth. Get him down here stat.” Danielle said.
Eva ran out of the room leaving Caitlin and Danielle with Simon.
Simon’s cries cut through Caitlin. Sweat broke out on his forehead, and he was clenching his teeth.
“He’s going to need an X-ray,” Danielle said, holding Simon’s head. Caitlin only nodded, her head spinning.
Thankfully they didn’t have long to wait. Dr. Foth came immediately, Eva right behind him pushing a gurney. Dr. Foth checked him over and ordered him to be taken immediately to X-ray.
“We need to make sure there’s been no damage to that plate.” He shook his head as he got up.
Hating her ineffectiveness, Caitlin managed to work her way around to the other side of the gurney, pushing it closer to Danielle, Dr. Foth and Eva. As they carefully lifted Simon on it, he cried out again, a harsh sound in the usual quiet of the night.
He lay panting, his eyes closed, his hands clenching the sheets at his sides. Each breath came out on a whimper that tore at her heart. Head spinning, Caitlin had to force herself to focus, to concentrate as she stepped closer to him. She had to touch him, to let him know she was there.
“Angel,” he breathed, when he opened his eyes and saw her. “I hurt you.”
“No. Just relax now.” Talking was an effort but she needed to reassure him, to ease his own suffering. Please Lord, let his leg be all right. Please don’t let anything serious have happened to him, she prayed, touching his arm, connecting with him.
She felt Eva take her arm and resisted. She didn’t want to leave until she knew he was okay.
“Danielle and the doctor will take him down,” Eva said, gently drawing her away from Simon’s side. “You should get checked over, too. You don’t look too good.”
“I’m okay,” she lied, straightening and walking slowly out of the room.
I hope they take good care of him, Caitlin thought as she watched the elevator doors slide behind them.
She blinked slowly, swaying as the lights above her seemed to dim. Then the desk in front of her tilted, spun then receded down a long black corridor.
* * *
“Are you sure you should be up and about?” Rachel asked from the bottom of the stairs.
“I’m okay,” Caitlin protested, her head pounding ferociously with each step. “I’m sick of lying around.”
“Here, let me help you.” Rachel held out her arm.
“I’ll be okay,” Caitlin said, ignoring her sister’s help. She misjudged the last step, and the jolt of hitting the floor too hard sent pain slicing behind her eyes.
“Don’t be so stubborn, Caitlin. What if all your patients acted like you do?”
I already have one who does, Caitlin thought. She realized her folly and leaned on her sister’s arm, grateful for the help.
“We’re just going to start lunch.” Rachel brought her down the hallway to the kitchen.
Caitlin’s mother got up. “Oh, honey. You should still be in bed.”
“I’m fine Mom. It’s just a concussion.”
It wasn’t “just” a concussion and Caitlin knew that. She had experienced a loss of consciousness. After being checked over by a neurologist she was ordered home to bed. After lying around for a day, she knew exactly why Simon had been so irritable. In fact, she gave him a lot of credit for not being even worse than he was.
Her mother pulled out a chair for her. “Sit down then and have something to eat. You’re so pale.”
Caitlin obediently sat down, allowed her mother a moment of fussing as she met her father’s eyes. He smiled at her over his glasses, but his expression was concerned.
“Let’s have a moment of prayer,” he said as they all bowed their heads.
Caitlin heard her father’s familiar voice as he prayed, his tone familiar, as if he were addressing a well-respected friend. She heard the words of his prayer as he asked for a blessing on the food, a blessing on each of their children, healing for Caitlin, strength for Jonathon and Rachel, and Evelyn and Scott in Portland. He didn’t mention Tony by name this time, but each family member present echoed his unspoken words. Before raising her head at the end of his prayer, Caitlin sent up her own prayer for Simon, that he didn’t suffer any major injury from his fall.
Her own head still throbbed, but it was a bearable pain. She knew that by tomorrow it would be gone.
“I made some chicken soup, Caitlin. I know it’s your favorite.” Jean handed her a bowl of steaming broth, with thick egg noodles and chunks of chicken floating in it.
“Smells and looks delicious.” Caitlin smiled her thanks up at her mother as she took the bowl.
Soon everyone was eating, the conversation desultory.
“So, what exactly happened to you, Caitlin?” Rachel asked, turning to her sister.
“I was helping a patient into bed and we fell,” Caitlin said simply.
“And how’s the patient?”
“I don’t know. I was hoping to phone the hospital once I felt a little better.”
“I always told you, one day you’d fall for a patient,” her father teased.
Caitlin couldn’t stop the blush that warmed her neck and crept up her cheeks.
After lunch, the rest of the day slipped by. Caitlin napped, tried to watch television and tried not to think about Simon.
She and Rachel sat out in the backyard for a while, but the rain and wind soon sent them back inside again. They ended up in Caitlin’s room, sorting through old pictures. Rachel wanted to make up a photo album for her future child.
“Oh, look. This is a cute one of the two of us.” Rachel leaned sideways, tilting a photograph of Caitlin and Rachel dressed in identical bathing suits. “This was taken at Long Beach, over twenty years ago.”
Caitlin obediently looked and smiled. She couldn’t get excited about pictures from the past when her future seemed to loom ahead of her uncertain and vague.
She didn’t know in which neat compartment of her life to put Simon. He was unsuitable in so many ways. His past was a question, and he didn’t care about the future. He seemed to be searching, yet wouldn’t admit that to anyone.
He didn’t profess to believe in or hold the same values she did, yet she sensed that he had been raised with them. He read the Bible, yet didn’t want to talk about it.
She recalled the look of confusion and yearning on his face yesterday as he sat in the chair, the Bible on his lap. He looked defenseless and once again she was drawn to him.
“...one of the only times I saw you really angry.”
Caitlin blinked, pulling herself back to the here and now. She glanced sidelong at Rachel, wondering if her sister had noticed her lapse.
Rachel was looking directly at her. “I don’t think it’s the concussion that put that dreamy look on your face, Caitlin.” She set the box of old pictures aside and turned to sit cross-legged on the bed, facing Caitlin. “What’s been happening at work, Caitlin? You didn’t say much the other night when I waited up for you, but I could tell something’s been going on.”
Caitlin frowned, pretending not to understand. She had spoken to Danielle about Simon, but only in the vaguest terms. She wouldn’t get away with that with her sister, but at the same time she wasn’t sure she wanted to pull out and examine such new and fresh feelings. Feelings that were confusing and frightening.
“You’ve met someone, haven’t you?” Rachel said quietly, leaning her elbows on her knees.
Caitlin leaned back against the headboard. “Yes,” she replied softly. “Yes, I have.”
“And...” Rachel prompted.
“And what?”
“Does he make your heart do those painfully slow flips when you see him? When your eyes meet, does it feel like you might never breathe again? Does he give you that thrill you’ve been looking for?”
Caitlin could only nod, feeling that very sensation right now. “Yes, he does,” she said, thinking of Simon’s dark hazel eyes that could tease and challenge at one time and yet show glimpses of vulnerability and need.
“Who is he? Do I know him?” Rachel leaned forward, grabbing her sister’s hands. “How come you never mentioned him before? Is he the reason you broke up with Charles?”
Caitlin met her sister’s excited gaze and debated the wisdom of telling her. It would make something that she thought of as nebulous, real and the thought frightened her.
“No, you don’t know him,” Caitlin said, adding with a short laugh, “I barely know him.”
“What do you mean?”
Caitlin pulled her hands free from her sister’s, folding her arms across her chest. “He’s a patient in the hospital.”
Rachel’s eyebrow shot up and she tilted her head sideways as if inspecting a person who had mysteriously taken the place of her sister. “A patient?” she asked, incredulous.
“You don’t have to act as if it’s evil, for goodness’ sakes. Happens often,” Caitlin replied, a defensive tone creeping into her voice.
“I know that. But I remember how you used to talk about the nurses it happened to....” Rachel’s voice trailed off. “You used to get so angry at them.”
“Well, maybe the Lord figured I needed some humbling,” Caitlin said, her shoulders lifting in a sigh. “Believe me, I’ve fought it myself. I don’t even know if what I’m feeling is really what I’m feeling, or if it’s just rebound. The circumstances are a little extenuating. I was at the scene of the accident where he was injured.”
“The one that you talked about? The motorcycle accident?”
Caitlin nodded. “He was in really rough shape. Broke his femur, a very major and life-threatening injury. I was at the scene, my hand on his pulse. I could feel him slowly drifting away. I’m sure he was dying, Rachel. Right in front of my eyes. I started praying and then his pulse came back. I still get the shivers when I think about it. He claims I saved his life. He wouldn’t let me go, kept asking for me in spite of the pain he was in.” Caitlin drew in a steadying breath, holding her sister’s surprised gaze.
Rachel puffed up her cheeks and slowly released her breath. “Wow, Caity. That’s quite dramatic.”
“I know. I’m wondering if that’s part of the problem.”
“What’s his name?”
Caitlin let out a short laugh. “It’s Simon. From the precious little he’s told me, he was raised in a variety of foster homes. He ran away from the last one at age sixteen.”
“If I didn’t know you as well as I do, I would say that what you feel for him is a type of misplaced mothering syndrome. But you’re not the type, Caity.” Rachel traced the pattern on the quilt, looking down. “It sounds like he’s had a pretty rough life....” Rachel’s voice trailed off and Caitlin could hear the unspoken question in it.
“I’m not going to marry him, for goodness’ sakes.” Caitlin said. “I don’t know what’s happening between us, if anything.” She lifted her hands in a helpless gesture. “I have to admit he’s very appealing and he makes me feel...”
“Weak in the knees.”
Caitlin laughed shortly. “Yeah. Pretty much. I suppose it’s just a physical thing, yet sometimes there’s more. I’ve caught him reading the Bible, but one of the first things he told me was that praying was a waste of time.”
“Cynical, then.”
“Big time.” Caitlin frowned. “Yet, I see in him a searching. He as much as said he won’t let people close.”
“How does he feel about you?”
“I wish I knew. He claims something is happening between us and at the same time he pushes me away.”
“Defense mechanism.” Rachel rested her elbows on her knees, her chin on her hands. “He sounds the complete opposite of Charles, maybe it’s like you said—a type of rebound thing.”
Caitlin shook her head, then winced. “But you know what? When I saw Charles again, I realized there was something missing. More than just how Simon makes me feel...” She paused, thinking of Simon, remembering her last evening with him, how his arms felt around her, his mouth on hers, remembering him reading the Bible, his questions. She and Charles had always made assumptions about their faith. They never spoke much of it. But Simon’s questions showed her a man who, in spite of his own bravado, still wasn’t afraid to show his own weakness.
She didn’t know Charles’s weaknesses, she thought.
“You’re going dreamy again, sis,” Rachel waved a hand in front of Caitlin’s face. “Suitable or not suitable, you’ve got it bad.”
Caitlin blinked. “Maybe I do,” she said, sighing lightly. “I just know that for the first time in my life, I don’t know what to do.” Caitlin closed her eyes, her head throbbing. “Maybe it’s just this concussion that’s got me all confused.” But even as she said that, Caitlin knew it wasn’t true. Simon had her befuddled long before this.
“Caitlin, you have never known any other boyfriend but Charles. This Simon guy sounds like trouble, yet when you talk about him I see a hint of that passion you were talking about. I think you care for him and I don’t think that’s so wrong. Don’t worry about it Caitlin. Pray about it. God will work His perfect and pleasing will, whatever that may be.” Rachel gave her sister a hug.
Caitlin returned the hug, comforted by what her sister said, realizing that no matter how many times she heard the phrase, it was true.
“And I’ll expect a progress report when we come back for Mom’s birthday,” Rachel said with a wink.
Chapter Ten
It was just like before. Dim sounds. Snatches of conversation. Unknown. Unable to understand.
Simon struggled to open his eyes, his head pounding but he couldn’t focus.
“Caitlin,” he called out involuntarily, then stopped himself. Why did he always want her? What made him call out for her?
“It’s okay, Simon,” he heard. But it wasn’t Caitlin. He tried to turn his head in the direction of the voice, tried to focus.
“Who are you?” he croaked. “What’s wrong with me?”
“Danielle. I’m the evening nurse. You’ve got a bad case of the flu. Do you want a drink?”
“No. Where’s Caitlin?” he couldn’t help asking.
“She’s not working.”
As her words registered, a sudden panic pressed down on him. “She’s supposed to come. She said she’d stay.”
“Lie still or you’ll be in trouble again.”
“No, I can’t....” Part of his mind registered his incoherence, yet he couldn’t stop the agitation that gripped him. His thoughts spun around his head. He couldn’t pin them down, couldn’t catch them. All he knew was that he wanted Caitlin beside him. He wanted to tell her...to tell her...
He closed his eyes as a wave of vertigo washed away the words. He drifted away, his eyes burning, his leg on fire.
Time was nothing. There was no way to measure what was happening. Nothing made any sense.
He thought he saw Jake standing beside the bed but Jake didn’t know he was here, did he? He tried to reach out for him, but his brother slowly disappeared. He heard voices, laughing, mocking. Sounds amplified and confusion reigned.
He was afraid, alone, wandering through darkness, pushing aside hands that held, that pulled on him, trying to find a brother who was always out of his reach. How could Jake turn his back on him? How could he so easily forget him? Everyone had forgotten him. Everyone.
My son, pay attention.... You are my son.... This is my beloved son...my son, give me your heart....
<
br /> Words slipped through his delirium. Words from a father to a son. Words he realized came from the Bible.
He didn’t want to remember them. He wasn’t anyone’s son, but the words echoed, words of love.
Such a weak word, love. So overused and overrated.
He didn’t want to think about love. Didn’t want to think about being a son, having a father, a brother. He wished he could stop his thoughts, he wished he could control them. Hearing voices happened to crazy people.
“He’s been like this for most of today.”
More voices, but these came from outside. Real voices.
“He’s really spiked a temp.” Caitlin’s voice. He was sure of it. He tried to open his eyes but the light was too harsh. “Infection?” he heard her ask.
“No. Blood work shows nothing. It’s that flu that’s been going around.”
“I’ll stay with him. You can go back to work.”
Then through the heat and confusion he felt a cool touch on his forehead, a click as the light above his bed was turned down a notch. He didn’t know if he imagined the gentle touch of lips on his cheek.
“Simon, I’m here.”
He felt a soft peace drift over him at the sound of her voice. “Angel,” he whispered, thankfully. He could finally open his eyes without a sharp pain from the light hitting him behind his eyes.
And there she was. Leaning above him, her hair framing her face, as she gently smoothed his own hair back from his forehead. “You came,” he said.
She nodded, as she let her hand linger on his cheek. He smiled back at her and tried to lick his lips. They were dry and cracked.
“I’ll get you a drink,” she said, straightening. He heard the clatter of ice and water being poured into a plastic cup, then her hand was behind his head again and she was helping him to drink.
The water was cool, soothing. When he was done he looked up at her, remembering with a sudden clarity what he had done the last time they saw each other. He remembered that he had hurt her then.
“Caitlin, I’m sorry.” He forced the words past his own resistance. He wanted to touch her, to connect with her but it seemed each time he did it wrong. “I’m sorry I hurt you. I’m sorry I kissed you....” He tried to find the right words to do something he wasn’t very good at. Apologizing.
A Family-Style Christmas and Yuletide Homecoming Page 10
