We were both silent again. Then he leaned on his elbow and turned to me.
"When I saw you go into the lake. Rain, my heart did flip-flops and not just because I was watching someone drown. It was more than that. I panicked. I was going into that lake, too. I was going to drown with you. I was going to lose you."
"Really?"
"Really," he said, his eyes as innocent and honest as a little boy's. "Ever since I began working with you, you're all that's on my mind. Sometimes. I'm drifting so badly when I'm with other patients, they practically have to yell to get my attention. All I do is apologize all day and wait for the time I can came back to you. It's like your face has been printed indelibly on the insides of my eyelids. Close my eyes to rest them or go to sleep, and guess who I see?"
I smiled and touched his lips. He kissed the tips of my fingers. Then he sighed and sat up.
"I'd better be going," he said. "I can't be here when Mrs. Bogart comes around, that's for sure." He put an his shirt. 'Now, we are like Romeo aid Juliet, forbidden lovers. I'll have to reread it."
"It doesn't have a happy ending. Austin." I reminded him.
"We will," he promised.
He dressed as quietly as he could. Then he kissed me good night and slipped out the window.
He was gone so quickly I was sure it had all been a dream.
I curled up as best I could, snuggled against my plush pillow, and closed my eyes.
In moments, I was asleep. The darkness, trouble and pain of the day fell back like ashes consumed in the fire of our wonderful passion.
For the first time in a long time. I actually looked forward to tomorrow.
The energy and excitement with which I greeted each new day astonished me almost as much as it did Mrs. Bogart, who-- no fool herself-- glanced at me and then at Austin with a knowing look, confirmed by a small nod or a gleam in her eyes. Yet she said nothing nor made any derogatory comment. However, the first time I invited him to stay for dinner, she shook her head disapprovingly. I soon found out, she had become Aunt Victoria's little spy, not out of any displeasure or anger, but because Aunt Victoria had convinced her I was vulnerable to socalled fortune hunters.
The next day Aunt Victoria rushed in like a guard dog, growling and barking, seething with anger at the trespasser.
"What's this I hear that your therapist is now having dinner with you and visiting you at all hours as well as spending far more time than he's been hired to spend on your therapy?" she demanded without even a hello.
I was in the den-office writing a letter back to Mr. MacWaine from England who had been told of my accident and had written to express his resets and sympathy. I had yet to hear anything from Roy, despite my attempts to contact him. I was going to write another letter to his army attorney.
I sat back in my chair.
"Well?" she demanded. "What's going on here?"
"I don't see where this is any business of yours, Aunt Victoria. I don't mean to be insolent or nasty, but I am in charge of my life, even if I am stuck in this wheelchair' ."
"That's ridiculous," she said. "No one's suggesting you can't be in charge of your own life, but you are obviously not listening to good advice. I don't give you this advice on my own. I've spoken with a number of experts on the subject and they all agree that in your condition, especially so fresh in it, you are absolutely defenseless. If someone like me doesn't stand up for you, you'll be--"
"Hurt?"
"In more ways than you can imagine." She paused, approached the desk, folded her arms under her small bosom and stiffened her neck. "Now," she said firmly, her lips tight. "I want to know just how far this whole thing has gone. Are you having a romantic episode with this... this so-called therapist?"
"Romantic episode?"
"You know exactly what I mean."
We stared at each other. I didn't know whether to laugh or just shout her out. Suddenly, her face softened,
"Believe me," she continued, her voice far more gentle, "men are first and foremost sexual predators. They sneak up on you and pounce when you're most weak and vulnerable, and I'm not just referring to someone like vou. They circle even the strongest and healthiest women with their smile and their soft talk and their promises and then they take your... selfrespect. It doesn't even occur to them that they're doing that and even if it did. I don't think it would matter much."
"What are you talking about?" I asked, grimacing with some confusion. It was hard to accept Aunt Victoria as someone who gave advice to lovelorn women. She glanced at me and then she turned and walked to the window.
"I know you think I'm someone without any experience in these sort of matters, but that's not true. I'm just good at keeping it all under lock and key." She turned to me. "I do have some wisdom, womanly wisdom to share with you. My sister." she said almost spitting the words. "never cared to listen to anything I would tell her in that regard. She was always more Who was I to tell her anything? Well, having more experiences, sleeping with more men, doesn't mean you've become wiser about it. You have to have the right stuff up here," she said pointing to her temple, actually poking it with the tip of her finger so hard. I had to wince. "You have to be able to make use of the experiences,
"She never had it and never will. But you do. Rain. I know you do," she said, sounding like she was pleading for us to be good friends. "And I can give you some advice that you will appreciate.
"Listen to me." she said angrily. "Men are predators, fortune hunters, ready to pounce. I've been victimized myself," she revealed and then looked away.
The silence was so deep and thick. I could hear water running through a pipe on the other side of the house.
"What do you mean you were victimized?" I finally asked.
She pealed a laugh that sounded maddening. "He pretended I was more important to him than she was. He even went so far as to... as to act as if he needed me near him, needed my comfort. I felt sorry for him and I cared for him. Who do you think has made the biggest campaign contribution?"
"You mean Grant? Did something happen between you and Grant?"
She didn't nod, but her eyes said yes.
"Does my mother know about this?" She laughed again.
"Your mother doesn't even know what room she's in. She never knew about Grant and I. I'm sure that Grant has strayed often."
"How can you respect a man who cheats and deceives and has no honor and no integrity?" I asked.
"How could he not be bored to death with a woman as shallow as she is?" she countered. "It would strain any man's patience and integrity,"
"But with his wife's own sister!"
"I don't want to think about it anymore," she replied instead of answering. She looked alarmed, her eyes fleeing from mine.
Was she telling me the truth or was she vocalizing some fantasy? Stranger things have certainly happened in my life and around me. I thought.
"Now listen to me," she continued, returning to her original vigorous attack. "I want you to have a different therapist, a responsible older person immediately."
"We've already had this discussion. Aunt Victoria,"
"You're being foolish. Rain." She paused, stared a moment and then nodded. "Think, look at yourself in the mirror. What good looking, healthy man is going to become devoted to you for you and not for your wealth? Don't be blind and stupid."
Cold tears froze over my eyes, clouding my vision. I had these fears always under the surface of my hopes. I didn't need her to remind me of them.
"It's not your problem." I said, my voice cracking.
"Of course, it's my problem. Thanks to my mother, we're partners now. If you become involved with someone. I become involved with him as well."
"Oh, so that's it. You're worried about the bottom line again, that net worth statement you wave like a flag around here, those documents you slip under my door behind my lawyer's back."
"I do nothing of the sort. I'm sorry you haven't signed the power of attorney. That would make it all so much easier a
nd you wouldn't be bothered by all the paperwork. You know that all you've been given, your attorney's seen and approved and it's all occurring like I predicted. I'm living up to my responsibilities, for both our sakes. You should have more faith and trust in me. Why last week. I made an investment for us..."
"I don't care about it," I said quickly. "My lawyer doesn't want me to sign the power of attorney." She shook her head.
"Every time I think there's a chance you might be more like me than Megan, you go and shatter the idea. I'm warning you. Rain, if this man, this therapist is pursuing you romantically than with or without the power of attorney privilege I'll take whatever action is necessary."
"Please stop." I begged, my tears coming faster now. "Just stop."
She nodded.
"Okay." She paused, took a deep breath which raised and lowered her narrow, thin shoulders, and then she spoke. "Now there's another bit of news to deliver," she said.
"What?"
"Don't bother to send for Jake."
"What? I told you not to fire him!" I screamed at her. "I told you he works for me, not you! I told you..."
"I didn't have to fire him. He's in the hospital," she said gleefully.
"In the hospital? Why? What happened?"
"He's suffering from cirrhosis. That's a liver ailment caused by excessive alcohol,"
"I know what it is. How is he?"
"Very sick," she said and spun around to leave.
"I want to see him," I cried.
"Don't ask me to take you," she warned before I could even think of it. "It's a waste of time," she said at the doorway. "And I certainly haven't any time to waste."
She walked out, her footsteps tapping on my heart as much as they did the hallway floor.
.
As soon as I could. I called Austin's pager. He called back to tell me he was with a patient, but he said he would be over the moment after he was finished and promised he would get me to the hospital to visit Jake. In the meantime. I tried calling Jake at the hospital, but they said he was unable to use the phone.
It was all too much. I broke into a crying jag that I didn't think I could stop. Mrs. Bogart came quickly and in between my sobs. I told her how ill Jake was. When she heard the reason. She smirked and nodded and said she wasn't surprised.
"I often smelled whiskey on his breath," she told me. "People have enough trouble in their lives without going out and making more on their own," she declared. "If they do, they deserve what they get."
"I'm sure he doesn't want to be sick," I fired back at her. "Why are you so cruel?"
She huffed up, her face swelling and filling like a balloon.
"I'm not cruel, but I've seen what drinking does to people. My own daddy killed himself and an innocent woman in a drunk- driving accident," she revealed.
With that, she turned and left me. I was sorry now that I hadn't spent time learning how to drive my van yet. It underscored the futility of wallowing in self-pity. I should be taking advantage of every opportunity I had to restore my independence:. I vowed to do so from now on, with or without Mrs. Bogart and Aunt Victoria's help.
Finally. Austin arrived and we immediately set out for the hospital.
"Where you taking that girl?" Mrs. Bogart demanded when she heard us in the hallway.
"I'm going to visit Jake," I said.
She looked at Austin reproachfully, but he ignored her and wheeled me out. He got me securely in the van and we drove off,
"I'm sure she's on the phone with Aunt Victoria by now." I told him. "What I hate the most about my paralysis is that it makes everyone treat me like a child. Even my housekeeper thinks she can order me around."
"You're right. The way others view
handicapped people often hurts their self-image and slows their rehabilitation," Austin said. "It's a pet peeve of mine. Ironically, the more privileges handicapped people earn, the more they are belittled. Friends of mine are always joking and calling handicap parking spots, handicrap spots. I've nearly gotten into fistfights over it."
His face turned crimson just by his talking about the problem. He realized it and smiled at me.
"I guess I'm just one of those people who can't help himself from getting too involved with his patients," he said.
"Just as long as you're not as involved with any other as much as you are with me," I responded and he laughed.
He looked at me and shook his head. "Hardly."
When we arrived at the hospital, he wheeled me into the lobby and we went to the information desk to find out where Jake was. Minutes later we were in the elevator going up to the third floor. It was very quiet, nearly the end of visiting hours.
"Oh. I was wondering where his family was," the nurse on duty told us when we asked for his room. "He has been in and out of consciousness and asking for his daughter. Doctor Hamman is with him at the moment and I'm sure he'll want to have a word with you."
Austin was about to tell her that I wasn't Jake's daughter, but I put my hand over his quickly and he looked at me and saw I didn't want that.
We approached Jake's room slowly. Just before we reached the doorway. Doctor Hamman stepped out with another nurse.
"Better move him to ICU," he told her. She nodded and then saw us standing there and touched the doctor's arm. He turned.
"Oh," he said. "Are you related to Mr. Marvin?" he asked.
"Yes." I said.
He nodded, regarding me with a somber look.
"I'm afraid his liver disease has moved into a very serious stage. It's affected his kidneys and they are failing."
"How could this happen so quickly?" I asked in a broken voice.
"Quickly? Oh, this hasn't happened quickly. Mr. Marvin has been receiving treatment for cirrhosis for some time now. He's been repeatedly warned about his alcohol consumption. Far some reason his consumption dramatically increased recently and that has led to serious complications. The disease can be subtle. Sometimes it is discovered, sometimes not. Such cases are called cryptoenic cirrhosis. Some may have only subtle physical changes, such as red palms, red spots that blanch on their upper body which we call spider angioma or fibrosis of tendons in the palms. Some suffer from jaundice, or have memory problems. Every case is different.
"I'm sorry." he said. "I have to move him to intensive care. Without a kidney transplant, he must go onto dialysis immediately and with the continued degeneration..." His voice trailed off.
He waited to see if I had any more questions. but I couldn't speak. He nodded and then continued down the corridor. Austin held my hand. Then. I wheeled myself into Jake's room, He looked unconscious, but when I reached his bed, he turned and smiled.
"Hey. Princess.... what are you doing here?"
'Oh Jake, it's better I ask what are you doing here?" I countered. "I just spoke with the doctor. You knew you were sick and you kept on drinking."
"Doctors," he said grimacing. He closed his eyes. "I'll be all right. I'll be out of here in no time. Don't worry about me." he said. He opened his eyes, "Say, how did you get here?"
"Austin drove me in the van." I said.
"Oh. You better learn how to drive yourself," he said softly.
"I will. Austin will help me immediately," I said looking up at him. He nodded.
"Sure."
"Good," Jake said as if that was the last thing he had to be sure would happen before he left this world. He closed his eyes again and fell immediately into a deep sleep that looked like a coma. I waited to see if he would waken, but he was still sleeping when they came to move him to the intensive care unit. Austin and I watched them prepare him for the move and then wheel him away on a gurney.
"Still wonder why I think everyone who cares for me suffers?" I asked Austin.
"Stop it. Rain." he snapped. "Don't start berating yourself. You're not responsible for this. You heard the doctor. Jake knew he shouldn't drink and yet he continued to do so."
"Just take me home. Austin. Take me home and leave me there," I tol
d him.
On the way home I talked about Jake and told Austin much of what I knew and understood about his relationship with Grandmother Hudson. I described how right from the start he had been my best friend.
"I know he blames himself for what happened to me. Austin. I know that drove him to drink more. Don't you see? That's why I say anyone who gets too close to me. suffers.
"Aunt Victoria is right, but not for the reason she thinks. Don't come back here. Austin," I begged him. "You're better off just forgetting about me. I'll go get another therapist."
We had pulled up to the house and he had turned off the engine.
"Stop that silly talk," he ordered.
I started to cry and he seized me by the shoulders and shook me, harder than I anticipated. I looked up at him.
"Stop it!" he cried. "You're not going to wallow in this self-pity. Rain. I won't let you. I know you can return to a good, productive life and I'm not going anywhere, so get that out of your foolish head," he insisted, his eyes steely. "Tomorrow, we'll start your driving lessons, but right now let's let you inside and comfortable."
He got out and helped me out of the van. Then he wheeled me up the ramp and into the house. Mrs. Bogart was nowhere around. She had either left for some reason or was in her own room. I didn't call for her. Austin took me to my room and closed the door behind us. I sat there feeling stunned and helpless. He kissed me on the cheek and began to help me undress and get ready for bed. I let him do everything. For the moment I enjoyed being helpless.
After he carried me to my bed and lay me down, he brought the blanket up around me snugly and kissed me. I felt like a little girl again, back in the projects with Mama tucking me in and wishing me sweet dreams.
Austin didn't leave. He sat for a while and just watched me sleeping. I heard him rise and go to the bathroom. but I didn't open my eyes. I drifted in and out of sleep and each time I opened my eyes, he was still sitting there. Finally. I groaned and looked at the clock. It was nearly two in the morning.
"Why don't you go home. Austin?"
"I'm fine," he said.
"You can't be comfortable," I said. "If you insist on staying here tonight then come to bed," I said.
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