by Marilyn Grey
Cheyenne knocked on the door. “Everything okay? Ready to change your dressings?”
I opened the door.
“And here are your pills.”
She placed them in my palm on top of the cloth surrounding my hand. I put them in my mouth one at a time and gulped the water she gave me.
“Well,” she said. “Ella made baked pumpkin oatmeal for breakfast. Would you like some?”
“No, thanks.”
“You need to eat more, Sarah.”
Cheyenne was not only my cousin. She was a nurse. And sometimes I wished she weren’t.
“Let’s change this stuff,” I said. “Get my ever dreaded shower and get through the morning routine. Maybe after that I will eat lunch.”
Cheyenne entered the bathroom and closed the door. Ella and Gavin chatted downstairs. I could hear them discussing work and lessons as silverware clanged in the sink. I imagined Adelaide snuggled against her chest in the baby wrap and Gavin’s arms around them both, wondering if I’d ever be able to have children. If so, I wouldn’t be able to nurse them. My flat chest with weird skin caught my eye as Cheyenne helped me undress. Mirrors insulted me, especially when unclothed. So I stepped aside and closed my eyes.
The pain, still intense, seemed as though it would remain with me for the rest of my life. “Poor James.”
“Not poor James. He loves you.”
“Did I say that aloud?”
She nodded as she completed her task and I took slow steps into the shower. I so dreaded the shower.
“Looks aren’t everything, Sarah. They aren’t even close.”
Easy for her to say. She still had her beauty. I didn’t even have breasts to nurse a child with. The doctor mentioned plastic surgery, but the thought appalled me.
“I’m like a child,” I said. “He needs a wife. Not a child.”
She turned on the water and I flinched.
“He needs you,” she said. “Period.”
Cheyenne helped me finish my painful morning routine in silence, then she asked me if I’d be okay with her leaving for a while. I nodded from my bed. Sleep called for me. Especially after those torturous showers.
***
My dreams either involved being trapped in a burning building or a mangled car. So I didn’t sleep much, but this time I dreamt of James and Abby with a woman who could take care of them. When I awoke James was sitting beside me smiling. “Morning, beautiful.”
“How can you say beautiful?” I said, closing my eyes again.
He didn’t respond. I looked at him again. His smile disappeared. Replaced by two serious eyes and turned down lips.
“Abby deserves better, James. So do you.”
He unhooked the necklace around his neck and placed it on the table by my bed. The ring clanked as it hit the wood. James touched my shoulder. “I’m sticking by you until that ring goes back on your finger with a wedding band.”
“James.”
“Sarah.”
“You don’t have to feel sorry for me. Don’t do this out of pity or guilt. I’m a big girl.”
He stood. “Every time I visit. Every single time you try to get rid of me. I’m doing the best I can. What do you want from me?”
“You don’t want to marry me. Admit it. If you met me now you’d never think twice about putting a ring on my finger.” I held back tears. “You’re worried about Abby. I get that. Since your brother died and Abby lost her parents, you feel like you need to protect her. That’s true. You’re her daddy now and she needs you. But she also needs a mother. A real one. Let me go, James. Just let me go. I don’t want pity.”
His eyes narrowed. “I’ve been by your bed every moment possible since this happened. Is this your way of saying thanks?”
“I am thankful.” I looked down. “You’re a wonderful person. You’ve been good to me. But I’m okay. It wasn’t your fault and you can walk away without hurting me. I’ll be okay.”
“What would you have said if we were already married and this happened, huh? What then?”
I stared at my bare chest. The chest that was meant to nurse my children during sleepless nights. Gone. My dreams of motherhood melted away in that fire. I’d failed my children before giving birth to them.
I loved James too much to see him settle for me just because he loved the person I was before all of this. Maybe one day he would understand it was my love for him that helped me let him go.
He stood in the doorway. “You know that scene from Titantic?”
I shook my head.
“Come on, you’ve made me watch it six times.”
“Which scene?”
“The one.”
“Please don’t, James.”
“I’ve been by your side since this happened. You almost died twice and that kind of thing makes you realize a lot. Made me realize that I may be able to go on living without you, but I don’t want to.” He closed the door. His footsteps trailed off. I heard the car door close and the engine rumble.
The door opened again.
Ella sat a few scones and a steaming cup of tea on the table beside me.
“I know what you’re going to say,” I said. “Don’t say it.”
She smiled. “What am I going to say?”
“That I need to be nice to him, but you don’t understand. I need him to let go. For his own good. If I’m nice he’ll hang on.”
“I don’t know what’s going on between you two. You never say anything and he’s as private as you are.” She handed me a blueberry-orange scone. “I was going to reprimand you for not eating. You have to if you want to get better.”
I picked off a piece and chewed it. Pretty good actually. “Change of pace, huh?”
“What do you mean?”
“Me, depressed. You, cheery.” I laughed. “Tables have turned.”
“You remember what you said to me once?” She tapped my foot. “My dream is every day. When I wake up, I want to find something new. Something beautiful about each day I’m given. I want to take the cards I’m given and play them with a smile, not to win, just to play.”
“Yeah. I said that when life’s biggest disappointment was losing a job or being single.”
“Well, try it.” She stood, left, and returned with the baby. “Find something beautiful.”
“It’s hard, Ella. I see negative in everything. There you are holding a baby and instead of seeing her beauty and your happiness all I see is my inability to have children and it makes me not want to be around either of you.”
“Doctor never said you can’t have children.”
“What kind of man wants to marry a woman with a shriveled up chest?”
“The man you have.” She glanced at the glistening ring on my night stand. “He wants you.”
I closed my eyes and remembered the first time I opened them after the accident. I didn’t know where I was and when I did I wished I had died. For months after that, wrapped up like a mummy, I kept wishing I’d close my eyes and die of an infection. People came in and out of my room. Checked my catheter. Did my excruciating physical therapy. Had conversations about their boyfriends and girlfriends and lives outside of the hospital. The life I wanted to crawl back to.
I should’ve never went camping. Should’ve made him put the fire out. Shouldn’t have fallen asleep. Endless regrets always ran through my head.
I tried to remain positive. That’s what people expected of me. Always the sunshine in the room. I didn’t want to let people down. Or maybe I didn’t want to let myself down. Why is being fake easier than being real?
I opened my eyes. Ella smiled, sat in the chair across the room, and nursed Adelaide.
Knife in my non-existent chest.
I winced. “When you’re finished could you give me some pain medication?”
She nodded.
“And do you mind not nursing her in front of me?”
A tear slipped down her face. “Sarah, I love you, but I’m not going to hide life from you. Yes, I can nurs
e a baby and you may never be able to, but there are many things you can do that I will never do. Think about who you are and how this can be turned into something good. So, you can’t nurse a child. Adopt one. Do something. Think of others. Count your blessings.”
My phone made a sound. I picked it up with the hand that didn’t get burned. The hand I could still type and write with. A notification. Physical therapy in two hours. Great.
Ella already knew. She nodded when I looked at her and said, “Let’s get you ready to go.”
“Where’s Gavin?”
“In the studio. Today’s homeschooler day. He’s teaching a few art classes and I have a few private violin lessons later. It’s fine. I can take Adelaide.”
“I can get Cheyenne.”
“Sarah Jordan, I’m taking you. Soon you won’t need help anymore and you’ll be so busy that you won’t have time to read. Enjoy this while it lasts.”
I inched myself into a sitting position and sat on the edge of the bed. “Maybe I’d enjoy it a little more if I wasn’t in constant pain.”
“You’ve made it this far.”
“This is so hard, Ella. It’s so hard. I felt okay until I came home. Or to your home. Now life is going on all around me and every time I look in the mirror I want to cry.”
She placed Adelaide in a baby wrap and put her arm around me. “I’ve always admired you, Sarah. And I still do. Throughout all of this you still manage to laugh and smile. You don’t tell everyone how hard it is and you put on this positive mask, but underneath you really are that person. These moments of sadness are normal. What I admire is that you still smile more than you cry.”
“Thank you for that.” I smiled. “Let’s go.”
Coming May 2014
QnA with Marilyn
Q. What made you decide to write romance novels over other genres?
A. I think because I’m a huge romantic at heart and it comes so natural for me. I do have a love for conspiracy books and I think I might do that at some point. Also a dystopian idea, but that wouldn’t fit into a series. The Unspoken Series was inspired by Downton Abbey. I wanted to write something that I would like to read. Something beautiful and not sex, sex, sex. So, I created this series to be my ideal little romantic world and I was inspired by Downton Abbey’s brilliant way of incorporating so many lives and stories into one big story. So, here I am! I love doing it and this series is an absolute joy to write.
Q. If you had to pick someone to play Ella and Gavin for a movie, who would you pick?
A. What a fun question! That’s tough. My favorite actors are too old for those roles or wouldn’t work. I love Benedict Cumberbatch, Dan Stevens, Kate Winslet, and Joaquin Phoenix. I think they are truly the best actors of our time. But they aren’t Ella and Gavin. Ahhh, I really don’t know!
Q. What books inspire your stories?
A. All kinds. It really depends on the book. As a whole, Charles Martin is incredibly gifted (in my opinion) and he has shaped my desire to write from the heart. I can’t sing his praises enough. As for books that specifically inspire stories, it depends. For Mwenye’s story I’ve watched a lot of movies about slavery. Amistad is a favorite. The Green Mile is an inspiration in his story. Also, Maya Angelou and others who have spoken up for the beauty and strength of those with darker skin. Heart on a Shoestring was inspired by Big Fish, Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind, and other oddities. I read a lot of non-fiction and believe it or not ... that inspires me the most. Real life is what provokes me to write. So that’s what I like to read too.
Q. What inspires you to write? I love your emotional scenes, like the simple beauty of Gavin’s wedding and their first night as husband and wife. How do you make them so realistic?
A. Life inspires me. I base a lot of these character’s off of my own life or people I know, but of course they become their own person. I just analyze life around me, try to soak it in and let it come out in the written word. Gavin’s wedding and scenes like that just come out naturally. I really have no idea how. I’m glad they seem realistic and people often say they feel like they know my characters. I consider them friends, so I’m glad others do as well! I just write from the heart so I guess the heart is what people get.
Q. This book was intense and somewhat controversial. Did something in your life inspire it?
A. Not really. I’ve known people who’ve had abortions, but nothing really inspired. These people jump out of the page and into my head ... I just help them get onto the page. I didn’t really have an agenda with this or antyhing, just kind of happened and quite honestly, it gripped me and held me there. These two characters made me think!
Q. How can I get free books? I’m obsessed with this series!
A. Apply for my street team. Details are on my website!
Q. What’s next?
A. Bloom is in its final stages and will be released in May. Publisher is still deciding whether to get Mwenye’s story out after that or Nora’s first. Guess we’ll see!
Q. What’s your favorite thing about books?
A. The smell. The feeling as you turn a page. I don’t like to crease my books or bend corners. I don’t idolize them or anything, but there’s something about a smooth page. I could never trade my lovely paperback books for an electronic device. I love the feeling too much. Nothing like opening a new book and sniffing those pages. Am I the only weird one?
If you have any questions you’d like to see answered in the next book, please email them to Marilyn at [email protected] and we’ll select some to answer. You will also receive an answer from her via email. She adores her fans and responds to every email she receives.
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