“Hard time down there in therapy today?” It was obvious by the furrowed brow and the compassion in her eyes that Awsty felt great sympathy for Giselle’s plight.
Giselle only nodded her head, then silent tears began to slide down each eye. She never bothered to brush them away.
Awsty immediately went right into her compassionate nursing mode. She jumped up from her chair and ran into the adjoining bathroom, where she wet down a washcloth with cold water. After wringing all excess cool water from it, Awsty walked back into Giselle, where she used one hand to pull Giselle’s long damp auburn locks away from her face and the other to wipe her face with long strokes. Hoping it would cool Giselle down some, she asked, “Any better?” She was, of course, referring to having freshened Giselle’s face, not her general well-being.
“Well, other than the fact that I can hardly walk, the therapist hates me, and my life is over, I’m just fine! Really! Couldn’t be better!”
Awsty knew it was the pain, the tiredness, and frustration speaking, and decided not to add to it by throwing out some snappy comeback to let Giselle know she couldn’t speak to her like that. Instead, she said, “I know.”
“Do you?! Do you know?! I don’t think so! You probably came from a family with mom, dad, two point five kids (all perfect, of course), a beautiful house with a white picket fence, and of course, there was Rover, the loving family dog. And, nothing could compare to the way they doted over you, giving you everything on a silver platter.” Every word came venomously through a set jaw and snarling lips.
Now it was Awsty’s time to make a decision. Should she just let the comments go, or let Giselle know that the whole world didn’t revolve around her and her problems, voluminous as they were.
“Actually, Giselle…” answered Awsty, in a soft even voice, “I don’t know who my father is. And, my mother was a drug addict. Notice I said was. I ran away right after high school graduation, and lived on the streets for three years, during which time she died from a drug overdose. And, yeah, there was a dog, only I don’t know what his name was, because every couple of days when he snarled around under the bridge or alleyway I called home at that moment, I ran from him in fear that he would either kill me or at the very least take a generous bite out of me. No time to learn his name… or give him one.
“And, about the whole ‘giving me everything’ deal… Yes, my mother gave me everything. A filthy trailer to start life in, a lack of her presence when she was out hustling drugs, a boatload of men that visited us in the wee hours of the morning, and total and complete indifference.
“And my education still isn’t done. I paid for the first half myself by juggling work and school, and my husband is paying for the second half.
“Yeah, my life from the very beginning was quite the dream-come-true.”
Awsty hadn’t been planning on saying everything she did. When she looked back at Doris, Doris’ eyes were so widely opened in surprise that a half dollar coin could have been propped in them. Returning her gaze back to Giselle, and holding it, it was Giselle who averted her eyes and mumbled, “I’m sorry.”
“It’s ok,” Awsty mumbled.
Deciding to let the past few minutes of awkwardness go, Awsty lightened the mood.
“Ok, Giselle, I only brought one prize to Doris. But, I brought you two.”
“Hey!” Doris blurted out the word, playing along as though she’d been cheated.
Awsty ignored her, and kept her eyes on Giselle, who had a slight smile that she was struggling to keep undercover.
“First, I brought you a milkshake. Chocolate. I know I never asked, but a person has to be crazy not to love chocolate, right?!”
Giselle, wearing the smile that had won out, said, “Yes. I’m addicted.” She didn’t even wait for Awsty to hold it out to her. She reached out her hand and repeatedly wiggled her fingers, indicating someone needed to hurry up and hand it to her.
Awsty obliged her and popping off the lid, she handed it, along with a long handled spoon to the little ballerina. Looking back to Doris, they shared a wink. Both women were thrilled to see the painfully thin girl begin voraciously consuming it, spoonful after spoonful.
While Giselle fully concentrated on her scrumptious shake, Awsty began telling her about the second prize.
“Doris, show Giselle your nails.” When Doris began “twinkling” her fingers about for Giselle to admire, the response was overwhelming.
Putting her shake on the bedside table between the beds, she gasped and asked, “Are those the things I used to see advertised on tv? Nail wrappers?”
Her name for them tickled Doris, who giggled a bit before correcting her.
“They’re called ‘nail wraps.’ This is my first set. I love them!” Seeing that Giselle was leaning toward Dori’s bed, straining to clearly see the pattern, Doris added, “They’re musical notes on treble staffs. I took seven years of piano when I was growing up, and even though I don’t really play anymore, I decided to go with them.”
“Oh, I love them!” Giselle was hooked. Turning back to Awsty, she asked with hopeful longing, “Are you going to do nail wrappers… I mean nail wraps on my nails?”
Awsty’s answer was a small accessory bag, which she unzipped and dumped on Giselle’s bed, on her lap.
Immediately upon seeing the contents spread around on Giselle’s legs, Awsty winced. She had one set of wraps that were a soft pink with a laced-together pair of ballet slippers on them. She had meant to remove those from the stack. She didn’t want to remind Giselle of her heartache of a dancing path she’d never follow again.
However, after looking through most of them, Giselle saw that set peeking from the midst of fifteen different sets. She slowly pulled out that set and held it in her hand. As she sat staring at them through tears that quietly streamed down both eyes, Awsty softly reached out and caressed Giselle’s shoulder.
“I’m sorry. I should have taken that set out.”
“No,” Giselle answered, as she swiped below each tear-stained eye. “This is where my heart will always be. I may never dance again, but in my heart, I’ll always be dancing.
“These are the ones I want,” Giselle confirmed by handing Awsty the set.
Wanting to affirm Giselle in her choice, Awsty smiled and simply said, “Beautiful!”
*****
Forty-five minutes later, Giselle, Awsty and Doris were admiring Giselle’s nail wraps that spoke of ballet in all its glory. Giselle smiled a smile that was from deep within, as she admired her nails. Awsty and Doris could see that this was the highlight of Giselle’s life for at least many, many weeks. And, possibly for some time to come.
After completing two sets of nail wraps, Awsty was pretty tired, especially after having spent the earlier part of her day in the hospital working, chipping away at the hours needed to complete her nursing internship. It was definitely time to go home. She desperately needed rest as well as to hug and kiss her adorable husband.
Giselle thanked Awsty for the prizes, told her yet again how much she loved her nail wraps, and tipped the milkshake cup toward Awsty, so that the empty cup would prove that Giselle had all but thrown her head into the cup to lick every delicious drop from it.
In response, Awsty walked over to Giselle and patted her head and said, “Good girl! Now, do yourself a favor and eat something healthy for dinner tonight.”
“Ugh! Hospital food!” Giselle’s face was scrunched up when she said it.
Awsty just giggled.
“Well as much as I hate to agree, it is pretty awful, for the most part. Although it’s a whole lot better than it used to be, I understand.”
When Awsty was leaning over Doris to give her a goodbye hug, Doris whispered, “Call me when you get home. I need some counsel and a prayer partner.”
Awsty, looking somewhat perplexed, nodded that she would call when she got home, and left the girls’ hospital room.
As Awsty exited the room, she saw Conyer Whitefield all the way down at the
opposite end of the hall, across from a nurses’ station, talking with a nurse. Conyer and Awsty were already solid friends, both members of Open Door of Faith. Awsty had a deep respect for the faith walk Conyer had.
Walking in his direction, she held back a dozen steps, as she allowed Conyer to finish his conversation with the nurse. When they had finished talking and the nurse had turned and walked in a different direction, Awsty stepped up to the nurses’ station desk he was leaning against and greeted him.
Her mouth ready to speak, it was Conyer, however, who greeted her first.
“Well, hi, Awsty. I didn’t see you coming. How are you? Visiting someone?”
“Yes. Well, two actually. But you only know one of them. Doris is here. She had to have an emergency appendectomy. But she’s doing ok now. She’ll probably go home tomorrow or the next day.”
“I thought appendectomies were in-n-out-quickly procedures.”
“Well, yeah, they usually are. But, she hasn’t been eating well and she’s dropped several pounds since the surgery. For some reason, she can’t seem to eat much, and what she does eat, she can’t seem to keep down. Just pray for her when you think about her.”
“You know I will.”
Getting ready to say bye and take off for home, she realized she hadn’t asked him how he was and what he was doing at the hospital.
“How are you doing? And, what are you doing here today? You visiting someone, too?”
Not sure how to answer, he decided to let her in on the car accident, telling her about his Aunt Tierney’s massive heart attack, death, and the resultant crash, in which he sustained some injuries and a young woman was seriously injured. This was the first moment she noticed that there was a pair of crutches propped up behind him.
“Oh, Connie, you were hurt too!”
“Yes, but I’m out already and home again. I’m over at Aunt Tierney’s house, trying to put things in order.”
“Who was the young woman, anyone I would know?”
“No, she isn’t from church.”
“So, are you visiting her?”
“Well, I thought maybe I would, but I needed to talk with the nurse first.”
Almost asking him what business they had been discussing, Awsty realized she would be over-stepping her bounds, so she left her question unasked, and instead said, “Well, it was good to see you, Connie. Guess I’ll see you on Sunday.”
Before responding with his own goodbye, he said he wouldn’t be at church services on Sunday. He was being sent by Open Door of Faith to take over the morning and evening services at a tiny little church down the street from Open Door. Their minister had come down with food poisoning Friday night, and a replacement needed to be found quickly. Because the church congregation was so small, there was no one who could take over the pulpit duties while the pastor was out. When the minister’s wife called Pastor Johnston, he suggested Conyer. Awsty wasn’t surprised he’d be going. He was an amazingly godly man who loved sharing his faith and God’s Word with anyone who would listen.
“Oh. Well, then I guess I’ll see you the next Sunday.”
Conyer smiled and said, “Hope so. Bye.” Then, he turned and headed down the hall toward Giselle’s room. Awsty winced as she saw him haltingly walking on his crutches. Awsty had no idea that Conyer would momentarily be entering the same room she’d just exited moments before, nor that they both knew Giselle… one in a pleasant new friendship relationship, and the other trying to enter into a friendship relationship, but instead considered by Giselle to be the destroyer of her life.
Chapter 7
Nothing had changed. It was the same every time Conyer tried to talk with Giselle. It wasn’t enough that he felt sick at heart at not being able to attend his Aunt Tierney’s memorial service because of the seriousness of his own injuries, thus confining him to his hospital bed, but now he had to immediately move on to dealing with Giselle, who showed him nothing less than total disdain and disgust.
When he said hi to her when they were both in the physical therapy room at the same time, she either shot him an ugly, hateful look, or ignored him altogether.
When they passed in the halls taking a stroll to regain their strength since the accident, Giselle would actually stop walking or wheeling herself, depending whether she was on crutches or in her wheelchair, turn around, and head back in the opposite direction.
When he came to her room, she either asked any attending nurse to please close the door before he entered, or she would simply turn over in bed and lie in the opposite direction with her eyes closed, refusing to acknowledge his presence.
Not one single word had been exchanged since the day she made it clear he should go away and never come back into her room.
Conyer went back and forth in his thinking. One moment he felt compassion for her, realizing that she had lost both health and her livelihood in one fell swoop. The next moment, he thought she was a mean-spirited person, selfish in all her dealings. One moment he felt like praying for her, and the next, he felt like doing anything but praying for her.
Feeling like he was on an emotional- and spiritual roller coaster ever since the car crash, Conyer knew that for both himself and Giselle, he needed to reach the young woman somehow.
He thought maybe he could just drop by her room for a few minutes and see if she would talk to him at all, even if it was just to say hi. She had made it perfectly clear that they would never be good friends, or friends at all. But, having her so angry with him, and no doubt blaming him for the accident, just left him feeling unsettled and helpless. Since he had been released, he decided to return to the hospital and give it one more shot and drop by her room right then.
Standing at a hidden angle in the hall, from which he could only see Giselle and not her roommate, Doris, he could see Giselle laughingly talk with whoever her hidden roommate was. Without exposing himself, he watched Giselle for a couple of minutes, during which time he could hear her say how much she loved her nail wraps. She was exclaiming both their beauty and her astonishment that they had the ballet slippers on them. When she asked the roommate to see hers again, he could see the hands of the other patient, but not the patient’s face. They seemed to be having such a good time that he decided he would come back and make another visitation attempt the next day. It would give him an opportunity to maybe speak with her alone. Plus, he would have had a decent night’s sleep, so he’d just generally feel better.
As Conyer turned and walked away from Giselle’s room, he offered a simple prayer that the Lord would both heal this beautiful young woman’s wounds and begin to soften her heart, both towards him and the Lord.
Lord, I just don’t know what to do at this point. Please help Giselle, and me too!
*****
Conyer only made it down to the hospital entry before reconsidering going back to talk with Giselle. Turning himself right back around, with a what-in-the-world-am-I-doing expression on his face, he entered the elevator and made yet a second attempt to travel to Giselle’s room. His progress was slower than it was the first time, just a while ago. While he was grateful for the assistance his crutches gave him, his armpits were feeling the strain from them. He briefly thought about going to the nurses’ station and asking for the use of a wheelchair, but decided if he was ever going to regain his strength it would only be achieved by doing as much walking as possible.
Conyer was going to need all the strength he could muster in the next weeks and months to come. Being the sole beneficiary of his aunt’s and uncle’s holdings, as well as executor of their Living Trust, he knew it would stretch him mentally- and emotionally to the limits. He didn’t even know what all their holdings were, much less what to do with them when he figured it out. But, he couldn’t think about that right now. Right now he needed to somehow let Giselle know that he was not the enemy. The car accident was just that… an accident. He needed her to know that he wasn’t driving. It was his Aunt Tierney, who had a massive heart attack while driving and had hit he
r car.
Her car! It may have been a piece of junk, but it was Giselle’s transportation. Now she had none! She couldn’t possibly have had insurance on that old thing. What was she going to drive now? Oh, man! One more thing to have to figure out!
Every moment seemed to Conyer to be fraught with new problems. He decided to blank out everything else right now and just get Giselle talking to him, or at least to listen to him.
By the time Conyer arrived again at Giselle’s room, Doris was gone. She knew that if she didn’t get up and move more, she was going to pay the price later. So, she began walking up the hall. When she got to the end of the hall, she decided to brave it and turn the corner. Consequently, she was no where to be found when Conyer entered Giselle’s room.
Although Conyer knew her first name, he somehow felt like he better keep things a little less familiar, so as he stood in the doorway, he said, “Miss Danvers, may I come in?”
Giselle recognized his voice now from all the times he’d tried to talk with her before, so it worked out fine that her back was to him. She had been lying in bed, tears quietly flowing, as she thought about how her life’s dream of dancing had been blown to pieces in that one horrible moment of time. Quickly closing her eyes, so that if the ‘killer of her dreams’ walked around to the other side, it would appear she was sleeping.
Unfortunately for her strategy, however, because she was lying on her side, a teardrop made its way from the highest eye and plowed a path over the bridge of her nose and down the opposite cheek. In and of itself, that wasn’t a bad thing, except that the path it had taken left an unquenchable desire to scratch the itch it had created. Reaching to get relief by a quick swipe, accompanied by a sniffle, she had given away that she was, indeed, awake.
“Miss Danvers, may I…”
“Please go away.”
“I was just hoping I could talk to you for a minute.”
“Conyer, I asked you to please go away. I don’t feel like talking to you,” Giselle said more forcefully.
Now dropping her last name, he continued.
“Giselle, I know you don’t want to talk with me, but I’m afraid we have to. There are some things that we need to discuss…” Before he could even finish his thoughts, Giselle turned over to face him. Obviously he wasn’t going to leave. She thought that if she just laid there and glared at him, not talking, he’d go away. She determined she wasn’t going to say one word to this man who had single-handedly destroyed her life.
Fixing His Broken Ballerina: Volume 1 Page 5