Inherited Light

by Katie Mettner

  I didn’t want to argue with her, but I also didn’t know what the problem was or if she really had what she needed at home. I glanced up at Foster who had joined us as he readied her chair for me.

  “Foster, don’t you think we should go to the clinic?” I asked, but he surprised me when he shook his head.

  “She’s right. She has everything at home to take care of this. If her fever doesn’t break by morning, or it gets higher than one hundred and two, don’t wait until morning and take her to the ER. It’s probably a simple infection she can treat at home, but you need to stay calm and help her. Can you stay calm?”

  “Yeah,” I said, running my hand through my hair. “I think I can, but I don’t want to do the wrong thing and end up making things worse.”

  He locked the wheels on the chair and waited for me to lift her into it. Settling her into the chair caused her too much pain and she held onto my neck. “Just carry me to the truck,” she said, her breathing shallow, and her voice breathy.

  Foster pushed the empty chair in front of him, then held the door for me. “Are you sure? She can’t even sit in her chair,” I ground out between clenched teeth.

  “I’m sure. I’ve already checked her over. It’s time for you to discover the things she keeps hidden. If you can’t, or don’t want to, deal with those things then you need to leave now. Call Cinn if you don’t want to stay with her tonight and she’ll come over.”

  I shook my head and said nothing as we approached the truck. I had the key in my pocket and I motioned for Foster to get it and hit the unlock button. Once he had the door open for me I set her carefully on the bench seat. I put her seatbelt on loosely and as soon as I closed the door, she leaned over onto it, so she didn’t have to sit upright. I took the chair from Foster and hoisted it over the side of the truck to tighten it down. I lifted the cushion off and held it tightly in my hand.

  “I can’t believe you had the audacity to say that to me, Foster. I love Cat,” I hissed, pointing at the cab of the truck. “How would you have liked it if I had suggested you would leave Cinn because she had a chronic disease?”

  “Well, that’s news,” he said, but I didn’t allow him to goad me into changing the subject. He sighed. “Cinn’s situation was completely different, Lorenzo. I have medical training, you don’t.”

  “Oh, so you’re better than me because I’m a lowly construction worker and you’re an animal doctor. You automatically knew what to do when Cinn got sick because you can use a stethoscope. That’s rich.”

  His hand tightened on my arm and his next words chilled me to the bone. “For the love of God, you’ve got to stop this, Lorenzo! I don’t care if you take your frustrations out on me, but you better be damned sure you’re done before you get in the truck with her. She doesn’t need you acting like a macho imbecile right now. I might be a medical doctor with training, but when Cinn passed out in my exam room, the doctor in me was not who reacted. I reacted the same way you are right now. I was scared and angry because I didn’t know how to help her. I didn’t know she had a condition which could kill her because no one told me! I yelled at the poor 911 operator and the EMTs. I cried in the bathroom when no one was watching. I held her hand like tomorrow might never come and had an extremely uncomfortable conversation with her mom and dad as they told me what she’d been through in life. It made me look like a moron to be in love with someone who was keeping something life changing from me! So no, I didn’t automatically know what to do just because I had medical training.”

  I dropped my head and took a deep breath. “I’m sorry, you’re right. I’m scared right now and I’m angry no one came to get me when she got sick today.”

  “I tried, but she asked me not to. I don’t know where you’re at with your relationship, and I didn’t want to do anything to make her draw back into her shell the way she has been these past years.”

  “Tell me what’s wrong, Foster. I swear to God I’m taking her to the ER if you don’t.”

  He sighed, frustration evident in his tone. “Lorenzo, I already examined her. If she was truly in any real danger I would already have an ambulance here. She has a superficial skin infection around a tube in her abdomen. I cleaned it up, used some silver nitrate on the area which was bleeding, and covered it with gauze until you get home. She told me she gets them often, so she has antibiotics at home and knows how to clean the skin and take care of it. She took Tylenol a short time ago, and it should kick in soon to lower her fever. All you need to do is be her support and help when she asks you for it. In the medical field, we call what’s happening to her, ‘a storm’. It basically means a whole bunch of outward forces have combined into a big storm trying to take over her body. The trauma from the other night with the head injury makes me suspect she may have done a tube change when she wasn’t with it and didn’t keep a sterile field. It happens. She’ll be okay once she takes the antibiotics and rests. She’s used to this. I know you aren’t, but if you’re going to be with her, you’ll need to learn about it and get used to it. In order to learn, you need to listen. I trust your judgment and I know you’ll take her to the hospital if her home treatment doesn’t help. Right?”

  I nodded and he let my arm go. “You said it’s a tube in her abdomen. Does she have a feeding tube like Cinn?” I asked. “She eats and drinks just fine, so one doesn’t seem necessary.”

  “No, it’s not a feeding tube, but it is necessary. The rest needs to come from her.” He squeezed my shoulder because he understood how I felt, even if I didn’t want to admit it right now. “You can handle this. Call me if you have questions or if something comes up and you’re taking her to the ER. Cinn and I will meet you there.”

  I jogged around the front of the truck and opened the door. “Right, okay. I’ll give it a few hours, but if she doesn’t show signs of improvement I’m taking her in.”

  He held his hands up. “Fair enough. Give her the benefit of the doubt. She has dealt with this longer than you have and you need to take your cues from her. Work with her, not against her.”

  I gave him one head nod. “Thanks, Foster. For understanding and for helping her this afternoon.”

  He raised a hand in acknowledgement and I closed the truck door quietly. I put the truck in drive and glanced over at Cat. She had found a comfortable position leaning against the door and I could hear soft snoring coming from her lips. I took my time steering onto the highway and accelerated slowly until the vehicle was up to speed. Once I was on the highway headed toward Martindale I used the quiet time to pray for patience and understanding for me, and mercy for her.

  Chapter Seventeen

  When I parked in her driveway the clock on the dash read almost five. I carried her directly to her bed and then found the bottle of medicine she described, along with some Advil, bringing them to her bedside. She swallowed the pills and lay back, the pinched expression on her face easing a little bit. I was a nervous wreck and centered myself so I didn’t make her uneasy about what was happening. I picked up her hand and kissed it, asking her if I had time to take a shower or if I needed to stay near her. She encouraged me to clean up and I promised to make her anything she wanted to eat when I was done. I took my time showering, cleaning my skin and hair, but also trying to wash the negativity I carried in my soul down the drain. I had to give her the benefit of the doubt, but it felt like she kept secrets she didn’t ever plan to tell me.

  A voice inside my head asked me if I were in her shoes would I do the same. Would I protect myself from the pain and heartache of losing another person I loved? The question was easy to answer. She didn’t keep things from me because she didn’t trust me. She kept things from me because she didn’t trust herself. The weight lifted from my shoulders and I concentrated all my efforts as I dried off and dressed, on her. I let the empathy, which my anger had choked off earlier, flow through me. I felt her fear, her pain, her hope, and her love. It would be up to her to tell me the truth and up to me to react with love.

  I stuck
my head in the door of the bedroom and noticed she had raised the head of her bed, and she appeared much more comfortable. The icepack I gave her from the freezer rested against her belly and she stared off at the wall as though it held all the answers to her problems. Once back in her room, I held the back of my hand to her head. Relief flowed through me as she had cooled considerably.

  I kissed her forehead. “You’re much cooler now. I’m glad.”

  “Meds work every time,” she said, sort of half-jokingly. “Thanks for driving me home.”

  I picked up her hand again. “You don’t need to thank me. I do wish you would talk to me, though.”

  She stared down at my hand holding hers and leaned back against the pillow. “It’s hard for me to talk about.”

  I sat on the edge of the bed and took her other hand, holding both in front of me. “I understand it’s difficult for you to tell me everything you deal with every day.”

  She stared at our hands instead of my face. “Here’s the thing, Lorenzo. The few guys I’ve dated never hung around after the first couple of dates. Wheelchairs are an inconvenient thing to a young guy who wants to race cars, run wild, and be crazy. Xavier was one of those guys, which is why I’m confused about him approaching me again after all these years. In the end, it doesn’t even matter. Eventually the wheelchair drives them away and I don’t have to tell them the story of me. They see the chair and they assume whatever my story is, they don’t want to be part of it.”

  “Maybe men have reacted poorly in the past, but they weren’t me. I’m not put off by the chair because I don’t see the wheelchair as anything more than your mode of transportation. You’re more than the chair, and people would realize it if they got to know you. Your personality is bigger than life, but you hide the personality behind the chair to avoid committing yourself to any one human in this world.”

  I held my breath, wondering if the truth I saw so plainly would anger her and drive me from her room. The longer I sat with her in the silence the more I began to feel her torment. It was the only word I could use to describe the pain inside me. It was a broken heart coupled with a shattered spirit and I understood she was drowning in her own tears.

  “I’m so sorry, Cat,” I whispered. “I had no idea how truly accurate my observation was. You’re beyond lonely and it’s become a state of being rather than a temporary feeling.”

  Tears fell down her cheeks and I gathered her to me carefully. I held her tenderly, letting her weep on my shoulder as all the pain and torture released from her soul.

  “If you don’t let this out, honey, you’re going to make yourself even sicker. It’s time to trust someone. You can’t go through life alone.”

  She spoke, but her voice warbled. “Why do you think I’m here with you right now?” she asked. “The loneliness nearly killed me. I had to reconnect with people who used to make me feel safe. The only people I could think of were Cinn and Marguerite. I wanted to be part of your family again.”

  I smoothed her hair back and kissed her forehead. “How come you disappeared then? Why did you stop coming around? Cinn told me it was because she was gone on tour, but she’s wrong. I think you stopped coming around because the same time Cinn was on tour, you were dealing with the transverse myelitis.”

  She froze in my arms. I could feel every single body function cease for a millisecond as though if she held her breath, it would stop her heart. I could tell she hadn’t passed out because she was stiff as a board in my arms.

  I shook her gently. “Cat, you have to breathe.”

  She kept her head on my shoulder and I rubbed her back until I could feel the breath flow through her as she inhaled. Her hand had found its way into my hair and she stroked my temple the way a child would stroke the satin edge of a blanket. It somehow comforted her, so I didn’t say anything.

  “How do you know what it’s called?” she asked quietly.

  “The doctor at the ER told me what put you in the wheelchair and how it’s affecting your spine now. He explained it had caused the changes to your bones, but he didn’t tell me anything else.”

  “Didn’t you Google it?” she asked and I laughed softly.

  “No, if there’s one thing I learned from Cinn, it’s never ask the internet for medical advice. You’ll be dying or dead by morning if you do.”

  I got a laugh out of her and held tight to the sound as the minutes passed. “I’m afraid to tell you everything, Ren. Once I tell you, you’ll be gone, but I can’t blame you. You can’t love a woman like me for the rest of your life. You have too much life to live.”

  “I can see we come at this from different angles. You see me loving you as a bad thing. I see me loving you as a spectacular gift God gave me. You’re the one who has taught me how to listen to my intuition again about my own feelings and those of others.”

  “Cinn said you and Tabitha have metaphysical gifts,” she said in an abrupt change of subject. I would play along, but only for a moment.

  “We all have gifts, actually. Cinn’s gift is more obvious. Her ability to play any instrument isn’t normal, we know that. Tabitha and I have hidden gifts. She’s psychic and I’m what they call an empath.”

  She lowered a brow. “What’s an empath?”

  I smiled. “Do you want to lie back down? This could be a long story.” She nodded and I helped her lie back then wiped the few last remaining tears from her face. “An empath is someone who can feel the emotions of someone else they’re connected to emotionally. I spent a lot of years denying my ability, but I’ve learned in life, if you’re given a gift you need to use it. No matter what.”

  “Who taught you that?” she asked as I stroked her cheek.

  “Cinn, actually. When I started school, I spent countless days at home sick. Only I wasn’t sick, I was confused. I didn’t understand why I could feel things so strongly just by looking at someone.”

  “Example?” she asked.

  I thought about it for a minute and then held up my finger. “In kindergarten, we had a guinea pig who lived in a cage against the wall. We took him out and let him run around the carpet with us once a day. One day my regular teacher was gone and we had a substitute. She told us we couldn’t take Sammy out because she didn’t know how to take care of him. Everyone but one boy obeyed. He took Sammy out of the cage without telling anyone and Sammy ran away.” She grimaced and I nodded. “Right, it was terrible the next day when Miss Kimberly returned and Sammy had gone MIA. After talking to the janitor, they told her he would likely never be found, so best to prepare us for the inevitable, at least in kindergarten terminology. She sat us down and told us we would probably never see Sammy again, but it wouldn’t be because he died. She spun a whole tale about how Sammy had gone off on a grand adventure. It placated all the kids but one. Travis sat across from me at the table every day and after she told us about Sammy, it was time for snack. We sat down at the tables and when I stared across the table at Travis his sadness and terror washed over me in a way all I could do was cry. I sat there wailing and in seconds Travis had tears running down his face, too. Miss Kimberly thought we had fought and took us in the hallway. Travis told her he lost his dog yesterday and it got hit by a car and died. He was afraid the same thing would happen to Sammy. As Miss Kimberly comforted him, calmness covered me like a blanket and I stopped crying. She took us back to the room and not another word was said about the incident.”

  “But it scared you as a child?” she asked and I nodded, one brow up in the air.

  “Freaked me right out is a better way to say it,” I said and she laughed softly. “I didn’t know what to do. When I was overwhelmed with other’s emotions, I stayed home from school. As I got older I learned to deal with it better by pretending it wasn’t there.”

  “How did Cinn change it?” she asked.

  I stared up at the ceiling and grimaced. “If I tell you this, you can’t think I’m a kook, okay?”

  She shrugged. “You’re sitting here with me. I think you’ve alr
eady proven you’re a bit of a kook.”

  I laughed and tugged on her nose. “Excellent point, my dear. Long story short, I found a way to shut out the feelings of others by the time I hit third grade. When Cinn left to tour the country, I was barely ten at the time. I missed her so much it physically hurt. After she’d been gone for about six months I had dealt with missing her and the pain lessened, but never disappeared. Then one day I sat at my desk and had intense pain in my belly so strong I burst into tears. I couldn’t stop crying, which by the way for a fourth grader wasn’t even close to cool, and they called my mom. She took me home thinking I had the flu or some other childhood illness. I curled up in a ball and slept until the next morning when I begged off going to school saying I had a stomachache. It was the same day we got a call about Cinn coming home for a break and to see the family.”

  “And when she got home?” she asked, using her hand to motion for me to go on.

  I swallowed hard and she reached out, wiping a tear off my face as I remembered such a scary time in my life. “She had lost almost fifty pounds and resembled a starving child. It was terrible. I was so excited to see her I shoved the feelings I had away and pretended I didn’t feel her pain. Mostly, I couldn’t ignore her all-encompassing fear, which clouded my mind. I snuck into her room the first night she was home and slept on her floor because I wanted to be sure she didn’t die in her sleep.” She opened her mouth to speak and I held up my hand. “I know, I should have told my parents, but I didn’t know how.”

  She lowered my hand. “Not what I was going to say. I was going to say keeping your sister alive is a lot of responsibility for a ten-year-old boy to handle when he doesn’t understand what the problem is.”

  I flipped my hand around so I could hold hers in mine. “It was, but thankfully my parents already suspected with her weight loss and her sickly pallor there had to be a problem. The worst part is, she didn’t get up in the morning.”