Chapter 32
John ran through the double doors and passed the ICU desk.
“Great news, man. Great news.” Nurse Trey threw his hand in the air.
He gave the man a high-five as he passed and rushed to room 309. Lesley’s bed sat propped up at an angle, and her head was turned to the dark window.
Frasier kissed her hand, and she pivoted her head just enough John could see her give her dad a small smile.
His heart soared.
“I’m going to let you two have some privacy.”
“What?” she asked then followed her father’s gaze directly to him. Her pale complexion brightened a bit when she spotted him. “J-John.”
He smiled, her stare driving him closer.
Frasier came toward him. The man looked as if ten years had melted off his face in the past few hours. “She’s having a little trouble with her speech,” he whispered. “It’s normal. With therapy, it should come back. Just make sure to talk slow. She may have trouble processing a few words here and there.”
“Thanks.” He patted the man on the back, and scooted right up to her bedside, gripping her cool, pale hand. “Hey, gorgeous.”
“Flatterer,” she mumbled.
His stomach flipped at her humor. She still had her spirit. “How are you feeling?”
“Like…I had my head…cut open.” She gave him a small smile. “You look like…sh…shit.”
He let out a bark of laughter. “You know, you’re the second person who has told me that today.”
“Must be…true.”
She squeezed his hand. There wasn’t much force behind it, but he was happy to feel it nonetheless.
A frown marred her forehead. “Dad said I’ve been in…a coma for…a week. A tumor. Crazy.”
“Yeah, it is.” He pressed the back of his fingers against her cheek and caressed her clammy skin.
She fell into his touch. “You still mad…at me?”
“No.” He shook his head and stared deep into her beautiful hazel eyes. Eyes he hadn’t seen in over a week, and had wondered if he might never see again. “Quite the opposite, actually.”
“Really?” Her voice held barely above a whisper.
“Really. While you’ve been sleeping, I’ve been working on your house.”
“Angel?” She placed a hand to her bandaged head. The number representing her heart rate on one of the machines increased.
“Relax.” He pulled her hand down and rested it on the sheet, covering it with his own. “Angel is fine. I’ve fed him and even played with him a time or two, and if it wasn’t me, then it was a town citizen.”
She cocked an eyebrow as best she could.
“The town had a meeting last week. Everyone re-signed up for shifts in getting the manor finished, even took turns running the bakery for Emma and babysitting the kids for me, so we could be here with you.”
Tears welled in her eyes. “Really?”
“Really. You’re one of us, Lesley. Bakersville is where you belong. I’m where you belong.” The confession felt good, one he should have made over a week ago. Thank God, he got the chance to finally say it out loud, and he wouldn’t waste this opportunity. He had a lot more he needed to say.
“I know,” she whispered.
“I need to tell you something. Something important.”
“Wh…What?” Her eyes narrowed.
He pulled a chair closer to her bed and sat, cuffing her hand in both of his. “The next time we fight, there will be no running away. I want us to fight, and then I want us to have really great make up sex after. I want you forever and always.” He kissed her fingers. “I want to marry you, Lesley.”
“John…” Her heart rate monitor sped up again.
Okay, maybe he got a little ahead of himself in his own emotions. He squeezed her hand. “It’s okay,” he soothed. “You can think about it.”
“You think…too soon. You haven’t known me…that long.”
“I’ve known you long enough. This is our second chance, and I’m not going to mess it up.” Ever again.
She squeezed his hand, a little harder this time.
“I love you Lesley. Marry me?”
She bit her bottom lip. A trait he was happy she hadn’t lost.
“Yes.” More tears fell from her eyes. “Yes…I’ve loved you from…the moment…you caught me…from falling over the…stair railing.”
“Really?” He raised an eyebrow. “What took you so long?”
She smiled a playful smile as he leaned down to capture her lips with his kiss.
****
April 18, 1940
It is foolish to have kept this diary after all of these years, but sometimes I feel this is the only place I can escape. Escape from Papa and his hatred. Escape from being his nurse and even from little Beatrice. I love the child dearly, but sometimes, seeing her is a reminder of all I have lost. I know I am only nineteen, but some days I feel like I have lived a full life. A life full of despair…
The shuffle of the doctor’s large feet echoed down the hall. I stood from my chair in the den as Dr. Barnwell turned the corner.
“Your father is beginning to show signs of a blood clot,” he said, his face turned down as he clutched his brown leather medical bag.
“I haven’t been exercising him as much as I should,” I admitted. “Things have been extra busy around here.” A lie, but the doctor didn’t know that. I hadn’t exercised Papa properly because of his violent anger, not because of my schedule.
“Please consider hiring a nurse to help with your father’s care. This is too much for a young woman such as yourself to take on. I admire you, Myrtle.”
“Thank you, Dr. Barnwell. I’ll think about it.” Another lie.
Hiring a nurse would mean less money saved toward finding Samuel, and I didn’t love my Papa enough to chance taking one day longer of getting back to my love than necessary.
“Maybe when you do, you’ll be free to go to dinner with me.”
“Yes, maybe so,” I lied yet again, and gave him a curt smile before pointing to the front door. “Let me walk you out.”
A look of rejection crossed the doctor’s eyes as I showed him out…
Honestly, I do owe him a dinner. He kept my secret about the baby from Papa, and he still thinks I am someone honorable enough to court even knowing my past, but I cannot bring myself to date him. If Samuel had never come into my life then I would jump at the opportunity to be wooed by a fine man such as Dr. Barnwell, even if he is fifteen years older than I. But the fact is, Samuel did come into my life, and no man will ever add up to my Samuel.
I have no intentions of doing anything the doctor asked.