All's Well That Ends Well

by Roseanne Dowell

  The driver flung his door open. He looked me full in the face for a second, then took off running. I leaned against the bumper, heart beating so hard I thought it’d pop out of my chest. Never in my life had I been so scared. As if I suddenly realized the danger, my knees buckled. Dizziness overcame me.

  I came to with Callie leaning over me. “Aunt Beatrice Lulu, are you okay?” She knelt down next to me.

  “What happened?” I tried to sit up.

  “Just lay still, an ambulance is on its way.”

  “An ambulance? For what?

  “You hit your head pretty hard when you fell. You need to be checked out.”

  “I fell?” Again I tried to sit up, got dizzy, and fell back. Sirens sounded in the distance. My head hurt.

  “Yes, don’t you remember? You called 911 and said you were kidnapped. I got here just in time to see you fall. I’m sure you’ve got a doozy of a bump.”

  I wanted to speak, but the words wouldn’t come. I didn’t remember falling. Everything was foggy. Part of me remembered getting out of the trunk. I closed my eyes. It hurt too much to think.

  “I’ll call Uncle Ed to meet us at that hospital. Someone will drive your car to the station.”

  I opened my eyes for a minute as the EMTs put me on the gurney and wheeled me to the ambulance. All I wanted was sleep.

  I don’t know how long I slept, but Ed stood at my bedside when I woke. “You gave me quite a scare, honey pot.” He leaned down and kissed me. “You’ve got something called Traumatic Brain Injury, a type of concussion. You’ll have to take it easy for a while.”

  “Okay.” I didn’t have it in me to argue. My head hurt, and I was so tired I just wished he’d let me be. The room spun and nausea rose to my throat. I closed my eyes. At some point someone had put a collar around my neck. I didn’t know why, didn’t care. Suddenly my stomach erupted and I threw up. I think a nurse came in and cleaned me up, but I can’t be sure. It might have been Ed.

  “They’re going to keep you overnight for observation,” someone said. Ed stood next to me, stroking my brow. Other people hovered over me, asking questions, looking in my eyes. I just wanted to sleep. Why didn’t everyone leave me alone?

  I closed my eyes. I didn’t want to talk. I must have dozed off again because next thing I knew an orderly woke me to take me to my room. Ed walked next to me, holding my hand. For the first time I saw the worry on his face. I didn’t remember exactly what happened, but had a vague memory of lying on the ground and Callie kneeling next to me.

  A nurse helped settle me in the room, talking softly and only turning on a dim light. I hated hospitals, doctors, and anything connected with them. Hated getting sick. To me it was a sign of weakness. At that moment, I didn’t care. Nothing I wanted more right then was to lie back and be taken care of.

  The nurse left and Ed came in and took my hand. Much as I loved him, I’d rather be left alone. Left to sleep and get rid of the throbbing in my head. I didn’t even care what happened. How or why I was there didn’t matter. Maybe tomorrow I’d care.

  “Go ahead and sleep, Bea. I’ll be here when you wake up.”

  The next time I woke up, a nurse stood over me, asking me questions. My head wanted to explode. Yet, it was like watching from outside my body. A weird feeling, I might add. It seemed every hour someone woke me, asked me a bunch of questions, and finally they gave me something for the pain.

  Someone, a doctor I think, asked me what happened. The last thing I remembered was staring at my kidnapper. I’d never forget that face. I didn’t remember falling. Callie told me I did, but you couldn’t prove it by me, except for the bump on my head.

  A nurse came in with soup a few minutes later and fed it to me. It’s not easy to eat soup lying flat even if you’re being fed. I think I wore more of it than I swallowed. They wouldn’t allow me to raise my head. Right! All I wanted was more pain meds.

  The next day they allowed me to go home. Never had I felt more outside myself. I didn’t know which way to turn. Everything moved in slow motion, and I waited for someone to tell me what to do. I couldn’t wait to get into bed and spent a week there allowing Ed to take care of me.

  Ed’s always spoiled me, waited on me, and pampered me, but never had I seen him so patient. Words formed in my head but wouldn’t roll off my tongue. Talking in full sentences became impossible. Stringing two words together was difficult at best, and frustration overwhelmed me. Pretty much all I wanted was sleep. Even the light from the windows hurt. Ed covered it with a blanket.

  I made several visits to the doctor – Ed took me because I wasn’t allowed to drive – my skull hurt and they prescribed strong pain medication. I admit it worked, but it also put on weight, and more weight I didn’t need. After a couple weeks I decided to go off it. I hated this feeling of helplessness. Other than doctor’s appointments, I didn’t leave the house, not even to sit outside, for almost two months. I walked around in a fog, unsure of myself, and found it difficult to speak.

  Poor Ed was a saint. Crying jags erupted for no reason and bouts of depression. No matter what Ed said or did, it didn’t help. Ethel paid me daily visits to no avail. Sometimes I spoke to her, sometimes I sat and cried. My mother, sisters, and nieces were so supportive. When I became frustrated, one of them would remind me I’d suffered a TBI – traumatic brain injury. Of course, they’d tease and try to make me laugh by saying, “At least you know you have a brain.” I will admit, it often made me smile.

  The first time I went outside it felt like I’d not been out in years. Ed did an amazing job cleaning up the yard and taking care of my flowers. The trees started to turn and fall. It smelled good and the cobwebs in my brain finally cleared. I couldn’t wait to venture out by myself.

  That was by far the worst period of my life, and I’m still easily distracted, but Ed claims I’ve always been like that. Maybe so, but time goes on, and Ed promised a trip to the cabin. I could hardly wait.

  Callie stopped by with a batch of photos to look through. The first time she showed them to me, I could barely focus, and I agreed to go through them again. Unfortunately none of the men looked familiar. My kidnapper remained at large. For the first time in my life I didn’t feel like investigating. I didn’t like what was happening to me.

  It was time for a change, and I knew just the thing.

  I encouraged Ed to go to the lodge, found the paint for the cabin and decided to paint our kitchen. It probably wasn’t a good idea, but I needed to do something normal. I gathered everything I needed. The step stool was high enough for me to reach the ceiling, and I proceeded to tape off the cabinets and woodwork. I didn’t have a steady enough hand to trim before I hit my head, I wasn’t chancing it now. I admit it took longer to tape than usual, but I managed.

  After I mixed the paint, I poured some in a small container and proceeded to trim the upper half of the room. Fortunately, there were more cabinets on top than wall space, so it didn’t take long. The lower half took longer because I had to crawl along the baseboard, not an easy task. It’d been a long time since I’ve been down on my hands and knees. I took a break, ate a sandwich and started back to work. There was a time I moved from one task to another. Age, weight, and the accident had taken its toll.

  I attached the roller head and began to roll. Getting up and down off the stool half wasn’t too bad, but getting up and down from my hands and knees was something else. I had to crawl to the counter to pull myself up. Comes from having fat knees, I guess. I was doing fine until I pulled myself up on the TV tray that held the paint pan.

  Maybe my head was still in a fog, because I just didn’t think. I leaned on the table. Of course it gave way. Pistachio green paint splattered everywhere, covering the cabinets. Blobs and speckles landed on the stove and refrigerator. Paint dripped from my hair and saturated my jeans. The paint tray hit the floor upside down and puddled on the floor.

  Ed was going to kill me.

  Tears streamed down my cheeks, mixing with the paint. I had to
clean up this mess before Ed got home and I’d better pray there was enough paint left in the gallon to finish the room. Thank goodness I had the sense to leave that on the floor. I looked around the room, unsure where to start.

  A quick glace down at my jeans and pants suggested I start there. Although whatever I put on was going to be covered in paint in no time. First things first. I opened the cabinet under the sink and grabbed several rags and the paper towels.

  If I could get up the biggest blobs off the floor, I could change and finish the rest of the room. If you’ve ever cleaned up spilled milk, you understand what I was up against, but worse because the paint was thick and every time I scooped it up in the paper towels, it spread like wildfire. Before I knew it the wastebasket was full and I’d not even made a dent.

  Footsteps sounded on the porch. I froze. I’ve only seen Ed angry a couple of times, but there was no doubt in my mind, this was going to surpass even those times. I held my breath as the door swung opened.

  “What in the world exploded in here?” Ethel’s mouth dropped open as she looked at me. “What the hell did you do?”

  I let out my breath. “Thank God it’s you. You can help me clean up this mess. Be careful where you walk.”

  “That’s a little easier said than done. Hand me some paper towels and I’ll try to clear a path. What happened in here?”

  “You’re not going to believe it.”

  Ethel laughed. “Trust me. I’ll believe anything that involves you.”

  “Very funny. I was doing fine until I leaned on that table to get up.”

  Ethel looked at the overturned table. “You leaned on that skimpy thing? What the hell were you thinking?”

  “Obviously, I didn’t think.” I handed her a new roll of paper towels. “Help me clean up this mess before Ed gets home.”

  An hour later, we’d cleaned all the paint off the floor. Since I was depositing more paint than I was cleaning, I showered and changed into clean jeans while Ethel tackled the cabinets.

  An hour passed, and we’d finally cleaned up all the paint. Never had I worked so hard. I looked around the room to make sure we’d gotten it all. Now to finish painting before Ed came home.

  “Thank you. I appreciate your help.” Ethel looked none the worse for wear. Although her jeans were spattered with paint. “I’ll buy you new jeans.”

  Ethel waved her hand. “Don’t worry about it, they were old anyway. I could sure use a cold drink.”

  I took two colas from the refrigerator. “Are you hungry? I can order pizza.”

  “No, I’m fine. I ate leftovers.”

  “What brings you here, anyway? Not that I’m not happy to see you. You’re a Godsend.”

  “Oh, I almost forgot. It’s about Ed’s party. Since you know about it, you’re in charge of getting him there.”

  “Me? How the hell am I supposed to do that?”

  “That’s what I thought, so here’s the plan. I’ll call you and tell you we need something. You insist Ed drive you.”

  “Great, how do I get him inside?”

  “That shouldn’t be difficult. Tell him you’re hungry and want to have dinner.”

  “I suppose that can work. When is it again?”

  Ethel threw me a look. “That bump on the head really did affect you didn’t it? I can’t believe you don’t remember Ed’s birthday.”

  I searched my brain, but no date came up. How could I forget the date Ed was born? I shook my head. “I hate when I can’t remember stuff.”

  Ethel took the calendar off the refrigerator. “Good thing you’re in the habit of writing birthdays on the calendar.”

  “You couldn’t just tell me.” I stood and looked at the calendar. “Hell, I don’t even know what today is.”

  Ethel shook her head, grabbed a pencil and started to x off the days. “I suggest you do this every day until your brain returns to normal. Ed’s party is in two weeks.”

  “Two weeks, that’s not very far away. I have to get him a gift. Will you take me?”

  “Of course I will, but I thought you were up to driving yourself.”

  “Well, I planned on it, but you saw what a mess I made in here. I think I’ll wait a while before I get behind the wheel.”

  “Never thought I’d hear you say that. Not that I don’t approve, mind you. I think that’s a great idea.”

  “Never mind that, let’s get this painting done before Ed gets home.”

  “Hey, Bea, guess what?” Footsteps pounded on the steps. Too late. Ed stood in the doorway. “What the hell are you doing, woman?” He took a step into the room and threw a dirty look at Ethel. “I thought you were coming here to keep an eye on her.”

  I don’t mind telling you that got my goat. “You sent Ethel here to babysit me?”

  Ed managed a sheepish look. “I was worried about you, honey pot.”

  “Don’t you honey pot me. I can’t believe you’d send my sister here to keep an eye on me. I’ve got traumatic brain injury, not brain damage. I’m not an imbecile. I can think and do things for myself. The very nerve.”

  Ethel threw me a look. Okay, so I screwed up. Didn’t mean I needed watching, but boy was I glad to see her. I’d still be cleaning up that mess if she hadn’t showed up. I threw her a threatening look. If she dared to open her mouth, she’d be sorry.

  “Beatrice Lulu was bored, Ed. I didn’t think it’d hurt if we painted the kitchen.”

  Ed looked around. “I guess no harm done. But you’re supposed to be resting, Bea.”

  “I’m tired of resting.” I set the paint roller in the paint pan. “I’m bored out of my head. What am I supposed to guess?”

  “Oh, Fred Bender’s gonna be a grandpa. You oughta see him. He’s beaming so much they can probably see him from outer space.”

  “I can imagine. He just said the other day he didn’t think any of his kids were gonna have a baby. Which daughter?”

  Ed looked perplexed. “Hell, I forgot to ask.” Ed picked up the paint roller. “Why don’t you two go relax, I’ll finish in here.”

  He didn’t have to tell me twice. I grabbed Ethel’s arm, pulled her into the living room, and plopped on the couch. “Thank God. I don’t think I could have painted another stroke.”

  “I just hope he doesn’t ask what happened to the rest of the paint.” Ethel stood. “I’m gonna take off you don’t need me anymore.”

  Tired as I was, I didn’t argue. I leaned back and closed my eyes.

  Ed woke me a while later. “Since you’re so bored, how about we go to the cabin for a few days? A change of scenery might do you some good.”

  “Sounds good, when can we leave?”

  “Tomorrow morning?”

  “You don’t have to ask me twice. I’ll go pack.”

  Chapter Nineteen

  We arrived at the cabin. What a difference. New shutters, new front door, and the trees and shrubs had all been trimmed. It looked like a brand new house. I couldn’t wait to get started inside.

  Another surprise awaited me. Ed had hired someone to come in and clean. Praise the Lord, not only didn’t I have to scrub the walls, they were already painted, and the floors shined with new varnish.

  “How did you? When did you do all this?”

  “While you were laid up. I didn’t want you to have to come here and clean. I wanted us to just enjoy the place. Like it?”

  “Like it? I love it. Where did you get the paint for the kitchen?”

  “I bought it, where do you think I got it? I couldn’t take the stuff you bought. I figured you’d miss it and ruin the surprise.”

  “You’re too good to me.” God, I loved that big lug.

  “Want to take a walk to the lake? We can unpack later.” Ed put his arm around me. “It’s real pretty this time a year.”

  “Nothing I’d like better.”

  “I heard you ran into Matilda a while ago. I asked you not to mention the missing money to anyone.”

  “I didn’t say anything about missing money.
I just asked her about the fund raiser.” I should have known it would get back to Ed. Thank goodness he didn’t seem too angry.

  “Bea, you’ve got to stop interfering in things. That money doesn’t concern you. I told you Horace is looking into it. Leave it be.”

  Since I knew where the money was going, I didn’t argue. Not that I would have anyway. Just didn’t make no sense. When Ed set his mind on something, it was always best to agree. Or at least pretend to.

  “So Fred’s pretty excited about a new grandbaby, huh?” Figured it was best to change the subject.

  “Yeah, he said he’s going to retire next year. He’s looking forward to it. Funny word, retire. Does it mean you’re tired and when you stop working, you’re re-tired? I think it should be you’re tired. Just plain tired of working.”

  I laughed. Ed was like that, thinking of the strangest things at the oddest times.

  “He told me he couldn’t wait because he can’t stand the way his partner smells.”

  “What do you mean his partner smells?”

  “Fred said he swears the guy bathes in his own urine.”

  “Thanks for sharing that with me. Like I really needed to know that. Bleck! Do you know his partner?”

  “Yeah, I know him. He could be one of the missing Marx brothers or the fourth Stooge. I’ve met his exes and they weren’t the brightest crayons in the crayon box either.”

  “I swear, Ed, you come up with the strangest ways to describe people.”

  “I calls them as I sees them.” Ed leaned over, kissed me, and pointed. “Look.”

  Two geese swam on the lake. “How can such beautiful animals be so dirty?” Already I’d started to watch where I walked, not wanting to step on their droppings.

  “I was thinking of getting a bench for down here. What do you think? We can come here and watch the sunset.”