by Dianne Drake
“There’s a chair next to Juliette’s bed.” One that was probably warm from all the hours he’d spent in it. “Please feel free to stay as long as you wish. We don’t have visiting hours here. Oh, and if you’d like something to eat or drink, just ask. I’ll be in and out for a while, as will my nurse, Alegria, and a couple of our volunteers.”
With that, Damien turned and walked back into the empty clinic, and shut the door behind him, then slumped against it. He was so sick with worry over Juliette he could barely function, and part of him wanted her father to take her back home with him to get her other help. But part of him feared that once she was gone from Bombacopsis, he’d never see her again. That was the part he feared most. Because he loved Juliette. Pure and simple. He’d gone and done the thing he’d promised himself he wouldn’t do and he was about to lose her, without ever having told her how he felt. That was the worst part—he’d never told her.
CHAPTER TEN
“YOUR FATHER WAS here today, Juliette. Did you hear him?” It was dark now, and Bombacopsis was staying away from the hospital. No minor complaints coming across the threshold, no major complaints in queue. They were staying away out of respect, and Damien appreciated that as he didn’t want to leave Juliette’s side. He also didn’t have it in him to do any doctoring. Something about seeing Juliette lying there, so pale, so helpless—slipping away from him. “He’s staying with one of the families in the village tonight, even though I don’t think he’s happy about the arrangement. But it was the best we could do for him.
“The hospital’s quiet, too. No patients at the moment. Oh, and you’ll be happy to hear that there are no other cases of malaria in the village. We asked people to come in to be checked, and George went out door-to-door the other day, and we’re all good. So when you wake up and get back to work...” Wake up? Back to work? The words were so painful to say, he almost choked on them. “When you wake up and get back to work you won’t have to be treating a crisis.” Damien raised his hand to his forehead and rubbed the spot just above his nose, directly between his eyes, the spot where a relentless throb had set in and wouldn’t let go. She’d been like this a week now and he felt so helpless. So damned helpless.
“Marco and Ivelis are fine. They’ve been in to see you every day, and Marco is actually beginning to talk a little bit. Not Ivelis, though, although sometimes I think she’s right on the verge. Padre Benicio is keeping them up with their schooling, and he says they’re both very bright. Apparently, Marco is good with numbers. Oh, and Ivelis—she’s a budding artist. Draws lovely pictures. Anyway, they’re staying with George and Carmelita until you get better. It’s a little crowded but, with help from so many of the locals, it’s working out. Everybody in Bombacopsis is concerned about you, Juliette.”
Small talk. It was all just small talk, and he felt awkward about it because he wanted to tell her that he loved her. But he wanted her to hear it. Wanted to see her reaction when he said the words. Wanted her to laugh at him, or fight him, or kiss him. Wanted to look into her eyes to see if they reflected any love for him.
“Your dad’s a formidable man, but you already know that, don’t you. I hope you don’t mind that I had him called to come see you. But I thought he needed to be here. Also, just in case you don’t know where you are when you wake up, it’s probably going to be back in Indianapolis. Your dad is making arrangements to have you transported there. He doesn’t think we’re doing enough for you here.”
Damien took hold of Juliette’s hand, and kissed the back of it. And he fought back the lump in his throat that was threatening to explode, because Juliette needed him to be strong right now. Strong enough for the both of them. “And I don’t want you to go, Juliette. I don’t ever want you to go. Which is why I need for you to wake up and tell me what you want. If you do that, sweetheart, I’ll fight for it with everything I am. I promise.”
“You don’t have the right to keep her here,” the voice from behind him said.
Damien twisted to see Alexander Allen looming over the foot of his daughter’s bed. “But do you have the right to take her back to a place she doesn’t want to go?”
“Legally, yes I do.”
“What about morally? Have you ever, once, done anything for Juliette that she wanted, and not what you wanted for her?” He didn’t want to have this argument with the man. Especially not with Juliette here. Whether or not she could hear, he didn’t know. But he wanted to believe she could. Wanted to believe that his words were getting through to her on some level and making a difference. “Have you ever listened to her, Dr. Allen?”
“My whole life. And even though you think I’m being an ogre, all I want to do is what I believe is right for my daughter.”
“What’s right for Juliette is to wait until she wakes up to make the decisions herself.”
“And in the meantime?”
“We talk to her and give her a reason to want to come back to us.”
“That’s not exactly a medical cure, is it?” Alexander Allen said. But his voice wasn’t stern. Now, it was full of worry, and fear. The voice of a loving father.
“When she found out her vaccination hadn’t worked, she was afraid the antimalarials we might give her wouldn’t work, either. And I promised her they would.” And she’d trusted him. Damn it, she’d trusted him!
“You had no way of knowing.”
“But I shouldn’t have promised.”
“I’m sure my daughter needed to hear that promise from you.” He stepped up to the bed and squeezed Damien’s shoulder. “Look, son. I know you care for her. I think you might even be in love with her. But right now, I want to take her home. I’ve got an expert there—he’s expecting her.”
“Her body is weak, Dr. Allen. She’s been unconscious for quite a while now and her overall condition may be stable, but the physical strain of putting her through what it would take to get her transported may be more than she’s able to withstand.” That, and the fact that he simply wanted her here. Wanted to be the one to take care of her. “In the end, I just want to do what’s best for Juliette, and I think staying here’s what’s best.”
“We both want what’s best for Juliette, Dr. Caldwell. In my medical opinion, she’s fit to travel. So, tomorrow morning, I’m returning to San José to arrange for an ambulance to come get her, and I’m also going to hire air transport to get us back to Indianapolis. If all goes as I hope it will, Juliette and I will be leaving the day after tomorrow. So spend your time with her now. Say what you have to say to her. I won’t interrupt that. But do know that I’m taking her home with me, and I’m not going to be persuaded to change my mind.”
Damien didn’t respond to that. How could he? What was there to say?
“Remember when you first came here,” Damien said to Juliette a little while later, after her father had gone. “And you promised that someday, someway, you were going to challenge me, and I wouldn’t see it coming? Well, this is the challenge, Juliette. But I did see it coming when I sent for your father. I knew what he would do. The thing is, I think I know what you’d do, too. And you’re going to have to wake up and do it, because I can’t do it for you. Do you hear me, Juliette? Squeeze my hand if you hear me.”
But she didn’t squeeze his hand, and he was crushed. “OK, if you can’t squeeze my hand, can you wiggle your toes, or open your eyes? Anything to give me a sign?” Yet still no sign, and he was crushed again. Maybe later—
Damien stretched his shoulders and rolled his neck to fight back the stiffness settling into his muscles, then he took a drink of water from the cup sitting on the bedside stand, and exhaled a deep breath. Bent down, kissed Juliette on the forehead, then tenderly, fully on her lips. “Did I ever tell you about the time my brother Daniel and I burned down the next door neighbor’s shed?”
And so it went into the night. Damien talked until he was hoarse, while Juliett
e slept.
* * *
“You look terrible.”
Damien bolted up in his chair, blinked open his eyes and looked around. He must have dozed off for a moment. And now he was a little off on his orientation. It was daylight, but barely. He’d been sleeping for—what? Maybe two hours. Then something—a voice? Had someone spoken to him? Was that what had startled him out of his sleep? Or was he dreaming it?
It sounded like Juliette but, looking over at her, he saw that her eyes were still closed.
“Morning, Juliette,” he said, standing up to stretch his body. He looked a mess. His hair was in disarray. His scrubs wrinkled beyond recognition. His normal three-day stubble gone way beyond that. He needed to grab a shower, wash his hair, shave, put on some fresh clothes, grab a bite to eat since he couldn’t remember the last time he’d been anywhere near a plate of food. Yes, he had a long list of things he needed to do, but hated to do, as they would take him away from Juliette longer than he wanted.
Damien bent down, kissed her on the forehead and took hold of her hand. “Juliette,” he said, “I’ve got to go make myself presentable. But I won’t be gone long. I promise. And while I’m gone, I’m going to have Alegria come in and bathe you, and change your linens—just so you’ll know what’s going on around you. Also, it’s Friday morning, and you’ve been sleeping for eight days now.” He’d oriented her first thing every morning, but he’d never, ever used the words coma or unconscious. Asleep sounded much more gentle—much more hopeful. And he needed some hope here. Desperately needed some hope.
Before he left Juliette, Damien pushed his chair back to the wall, then took a look out the window directly over Juliette’s bed. It was beautiful out today. Sunny. Cheery. For a moment he thought about carrying Juliette outside, to let some of that sun sink into her body. Maybe she would feel its warmth. Maybe she would taste the difference between the stale hospital air and the fresh air out there. Of course, it was only a thought. A rather silly one at that. Fresh air and sunlight didn’t cure malaria or, in Juliette’s case, the toxic side effects of the drug used to treat malaria.
Bending down to kiss her once more before he left, he pushed the hair back from her face. “This won’t take me long,” he said, then turned away from the bed and headed to the opening between the two partitions set at the end of it.
“Could she comb my hair?”
Damien spun to face Juliette. But her eyes weren’t open. “I’ll ask her,” he said cautiously, even though his heart was about to leap out of his chest. “Anything else you want?”
The reply came, but it seemed to take forever. “Water,” she said eventually. “Dry throat.”
Damien bit down hard on his lower lip, trying to control his emotions. “A few sips. It’s been a while since you’ve had anything in your stomach, and I don’t want you cramping up.”
“I’m a doctor.” Finally, she opened her eyes. “I know that.”
“Juliette...” Damien choked out, stumbling back to her bedside and pulling her up into his arms. “We were so afraid... I was so afraid...” He moved back away from her. “Do you know how long you’ve been out?”
“You’ve been reminding me every day.”
“You’ve heard me?”
She let out a weary sigh, and nodded. “I heard you sometimes.” Then she closed her eyes and snuggled her head against his arm. “And like I said a few minutes ago, you look terrible.”
She held out her hand to his, and he took hold. “Don’t leave me yet, Damien. Please, just sit with me for a while.”
“For as long as you want,” he said, bending down to kiss her hand. “For as long as you want.”
* * *
“You know my dad wasn’t too happy about my staying here,” Juliette said. She was sitting outside in the sun today, three days after she’d awoken, and she was greeting the many visitors who’d casually dropped by to say hello, bring her flowers or simply hang around hoping to help her out in any way they could. She was truly touched by the sentiment, and shocked to discover how highly regarded she was in Bombacopsis.
Damien, who’d pulled out a chair next to her, and was taking in the sun as well, smiled lazily. “He’ll get over it.”
“I’m glad he was here, though.”
“I was afraid you’d hate me for sending for him.”
Juliette laughed. “No. He needed to be here. It would have hurt him if you hadn’t sent for him, and I really don’t want him hurt. He loves me, Damien. And maybe he’s a little too overprotective, but that’s just the way he is.”
“I know your dad means well, Juliette. I think he’d move heaven and earth to take care of you. And while we didn’t necessarily agree on what was best for you, I think he’s a good man.”
“He is a good man,” she agreed. “And a good doctor.” She was touched by Damien’s kind words, especially since her father and Damien had been on opposite ends of the debate on how to best take care of her.
“Well, all I know is, we both agreed that we wanted what was best for you, even though we wanted it done differently.”
“Wouldn’t it have been easier on you to let me go back with him?”
“No,” he said quite simply. “I wanted you here.”
But why did he want her here? Why wouldn’t he just say the words? She knew he loved her. There was no doubt in her mind. But she wanted him to tell her, and she was afraid he never would. Yet she’d felt his kisses when she was somewhere smothered deep in her fog. Felt his hand holding hers. Heard the words, but never the right words. The words that would have soothed her heart.
“Well, it’s a good thing I woke up and made the decision for myself.”
“But staying in Costa Rica is going to be very difficult for you, especially now that you don’t have a job here.”
“Can you believe they’d do that to me?” she asked, sounding more angry than hurt.
“I don’t think it was nice of them, but I can believe it. People look after their own best interests, and your employers needed to move on at a time when you couldn’t. Would I have done that to you? No, I believe in loyalty. But you were apparently working for someone who didn’t.” Her company had laid her off days ago, after he’d sent Padre Benicio to call Cynthia and ask her to explain Juliette’s absence to her employer. The director of her office had sent an impersonal note explaining his circumstances and said, if Juliette recovered sufficiently, she could reapply should another position come open. But, as he’d explained, he had too many medical professionals waiting in queue, and they had to be attended to immediately.
“Well, it stings. And more than that, it leaves me stranded here needing to find work or else I’ll be forced to leave in ninety days, thanks to the visa requirements.”
“And ninety days to find work may be unrealistic, considering that you’ll still be recovering from your malaria and the hospitals here might not be so eager to take you on due to your medical situation. But maybe going home is what you need to do, considering how badly you responded to standard malaria treatment.”
It almost sounded as if he wanted her to leave. Between losing her job, and now this...
“There are other cures, Damien. A whole host of other drugs I can try. And I still have the hospital here, if you’ll let me work.” Would he let her, though? Over the past couple of days, she’d given it a lot of thought then reconciled herself to the fact that here, with Damien, at this little hospital, was where she was happiest. What she didn’t know, however, was if her being here made him happy. But since the rest of her world seemed to be crumbling at her feet right now, it seemed like the perfect time to find out if this little piece of it was, too.
“Will you let me stay and work for you?”
“But how would you support yourself since I can’t pay you?” he asked.
This wasn’t what she wanted
to hear. No, what she wanted to hear was him telling her how thrilled he’d be to have her stay, that he wanted it more than anything. That they could have a bright future together here. He hadn’t said any of that, though. Hadn’t even sounded close to anything hopeful. “Remember—I’m rich. I don’t need for you to pay me.”
“Could you actually work under these conditions, Juliette? I know you can do it for a couple days a week, but do you even realize what it’s going to be like if you’re here every day, all day? And there’s no phone connection. No internet—”
And again, nothing hopeful. “I’m well aware of what you don’t have here, Damien.” This hurt. When she’d thought he loved her—had she mistaken that for something else? Something she didn’t understand? Had she truly believed everything had changed between them when nothing had? Nothing at all?
Suddenly, Juliette felt tired. Overwhelmed. Sad. Didn’t want to sit outside anymore. Didn’t want to talk to Damien. Didn’t even want to see him. Wanted to get away from him before the tears came. “I need to go back to my bed and rest,” she said, scooting forward in her chair, ready to stand up.
Damien sprang immediately to his feet to help her, but she held out her hand to stop him. “I’m fine,” she snapped. “I can do this by myself.”
“You’ve only been awake three days, Juliette, and you’re still weak.” In spite of her protests, he stepped forward to take her arm. But she shook him off.
“I said, I can do this by myself.” Brave words, even though her legs were still weak, and her back still ached from too much time flat in bed.
“Damn it, Juliette! What the hell’s wrong?”
“Wrong? Do you want to know what’s wrong, Damien? You’re what’s wrong. And I’m what’s wrong.”