"Why hasn't she come around?" Drew asked in an anxious voice.
"I can't tell you. But, as I said, her vital signs are good. She's on an IV, and she's catheterized, and her kidneys are working.
"Hopefully, she'll wake up sometime tonight. If not, we'll do some tests tomorrow. But, she's stable and as comfortable as possible. And, she's hooked up to monitors. The nurses will know if there are any changes in her condition.
"I've told them you will be staying. So, why don't you go get yourself kitted out, and maybe get something to eat. She's not going anywhere."
"Yes," was all Andrew managed to say as the doctor turned and walked away.
Fitz walked over and said, "I'll go pack up some things for you, and for Beth as well. What can I bring you to eat?"
"Nothing, thank you. I couldn't eat anything. Maybe just another coffee."
"Andrew," Fitz said, but went quiet at one look from Drew.
"Just the coffee, thank you." Then he turned on his heels and went to find out what room Beth had been moved to.
*****
Five days passed, and Beth still hadn't regained consciousness. In all that time, Andrew hadn't left her bedside. In fact, he hadn't slept. He hadn't even changed clothes. The bag Fitz had brought him sat, untouched in the far corner of the room, next to the unused bed.
The Morgans had arrived sometime during the first day. They had been almost as excited as Beth had been about the baby. Somehow, they accepted James' death with grace.
They took turns sitting with him for the first few days, and then waited outside. Andrew had become more and more despondent, and uncommunicative.
People came and went -- nurses, doctors, Richard and his brood, and Sir Roger, and the Morgans. Still, Andrew did not move. People would hand him a cup of coffee or a sandwich, and Andrew would eat it. But he didn't move.
On the seventh day, the doctor came in to again say he couldn’t understand why Elizabeth hadn't come out of the anesthetic. He stressed how her vital signs continued to be very good, and how all the test results were perfectly normal. He mentioned something about how some doctors believed that talking and reading aloud somehow reached into the patient's perceptions, and left.
*****
Richard just looked at his father and shook his head. "I just think something has to be done. I've spoken to him. Fitz has spoken to him. Even Corinne has tried. No one is reaching him.
"You have to order him to--"
"Richard," his father told him, cutting him off. "I'm not sure it's my place to order anyone to do anything."
"Father, just go in there and see for yourself. Whenever Beth does regain consciousness, Andrew's going to be comatose."
Sir Roger gave his son a deep sigh and agreed, "All right, son. I'll go see him."
Sir Roger entered the room and was shocked by what he found. Clearly, Richard had understated the situation.
Andrew sat in a hard chair beside the bed, grubby and with a week's growth of facial hair. He was wearing the same shirt he'd been wearing when he arrived at the hospital -- wrinkled, smelly, and stained with what Sir Roger hoped was coffee.
The older man pulled another chair close to his son-in-law's and sat down, without Andrew's notice.
"Andrew...son..." he began. Still no reaction. "Andrew!" he called out, in a hard-edged voice.
Drew turned his head towards Sir Roger and blinked. Taking this as a sign he'd finally gotten his son-in-law's attention, Sir Roger said, "Andrew, this must stop."
"What... What do you mean?"
"I said this must stop!"
His son-in-law looked at him and answered, "I don't understand what you want."
"Look at yourself! You're a mess. You stink. I've seen derelicts cleaner than you. Elizabeth wouldn't even know you, if she saw you like this."
"I'm not important. Beth is. I can't leave her."
"Son, you are important as well."
"No, I'm not."
"I want you to go into the bathroom and get showered and shaved. I'm going to have Fitz get you a good hot meal, and after you eat it, you're going to get into that bed," he said, pointing over Drew's shoulder, before he continued, "and then you are going to sleep."
"No, I can't leave her. Not even to shave and shower, let alone sleep."
"Of course, you can."
Andrew became very agitated, shaking his head, and insisting, "No. Don't you understand? I can't leave her."
Sir Roger was now beyond merely concerned. Drew's personal hygiene was one thing. However, he no longer seemed rational. The older man tried again, "Andrew, I know you don't want to leave her. But, you're only going as far away as the bathroom."
"I can't leave her," Drew insisted, his voice rising in pitch with each word.
"Can you tell me why?" Sir Roger asked, after deciding to try a different approach.
"Because, she'll die. If I leave, she'll die."
"No, son. First of all, I don't believe she's going to die at all. She'll come out of this. We just don't know when.
"But you don't understand--"
"I do understand, Andrew. Much more than you think. If Elizabeth was going to die, she would have done it by now.
"However, she's going to need all of your strength when she does wake up. And, right now, you have no strength to give her."
"How can I give her my strength?"
"You can't now. Not as you are right now." He pointed over to the bed and said, "You need to rest. But first you need to clean up and eat a hot meal. And, no more coffee."
"But..."
"No buts, son. Shave and a shower, and a hot meal. I'll even go and find a good bottle of scotch and we'll have a drink before you go to bed."
"But..."
"I've already told you, no buts. Now, what was the doctor saying about reading?"
"He said that some doctors believe that people in comas can hear people talk to them, and suggest their family speak to them, or even read aloud to them."
This last few sentences Andrew had managed to say calmly and coherently. So his father-in-law told him, "Well, what if we get some of Beth's favorite books? And tomorrow you can read to her. We'll all take turns reading to her when it's time for you to take breaks."
"But, Sir Roger, I don’t want to leave her."
"I know you don't want to leave her, son, but you must. And, I promise you, she won't be alone."
"You won't leave?"
"Well, I'm going to send Fitz out for some decent food for you, and then find a bottle of scotch. But, Richard will be here with her while you get showered and shaved."
"I don't know..."
"I know. You must do this. You are her rock. She will need you and all of your strength you have to help her deal with James' death. So, by taking care of yourself, you are helping her.
"Go on, Drew. Richard's right outside. He'll sit with Beth while you cleanup. And I'll phone Sarah and ask her to bring some of Elizabeth's favorite books to you."
Andrew remained seated, but he didn't argue, so Sir Roger added, encouragingly, "Go on, son. She won't be left alone. I promise you." He put a hand on Andrew's shoulder, and said, "You have to take care of yourself, so you can take care of her."
To the older man's relief, Andrew struggled to his feet, walked over to the suitcase, and carrying it into the bathroom, left Beth's room.
As soon as the door was closed, Sir Roger went to the hallway door and called Richard inside.
"He's showering now. I told him you'd sit with Beth while I go and take care of a few things. I won't be gone long."
"All right, Father."
"And, Richard, if he comes out before I'm back, don't rag him. Just talk to him about how Beth will eventually regain consciousness, and how she'll look to him for help dealing with James' death."
Chapter Fourteen
At the first sound of noise, Andrew bolted upright in his bed. He looked towards Beth, hopefully. But she was still unmoving. Why wouldn't she wake up?
No! He to
ld himself. She would wake up, he just needed to keep faith with her.
The door opened and Fitz came in, carrying a tray with a pot of tea and a paper. She smiled at him and said, "I have your tea and newspaper. I've ordered you a good breakfast."
She set the tray on a small table that now sat beside a leather easy chair -- neither of which had been beside Beth's bed when he condescended to go to sleep last night.
"Come along and have a cup of your tea. It's Earl Grey, just the way you like it."
Andrew pulled the robe from the foot of the bed, scriggled into it, staggered to his feet, and stretched. As much as he hated to admit it, he did feel much better after a good night's rest. The shower and hot dinner had also made great strides in his feeling of calmness and well-being.
He gulped down the cup of tea Fitz had poured out for him and looked around the room again. Clothes now hung in the closet and his suitcase had disappeared. There was also a stack of books beneath the table holding his tea tray.
"Where did the table and chair come from?"
"They were brought in after you fell asleep. While I was putting away your things, and tidying the bathroom.
"Sarah and Justin brought the books. It's the entire Lord Peter Wimsey series. Apparently, they're particular favorites of Elizabeth's. Now, I'll sit with her, should you want to use the bathroom."
With that, Fitz walked to the far side of the hospital bed and settled herself in the hard chair Drew had spent so very much time in.
When he returned a few minutes later, a plate of eggs and bacon, mushrooms, tomatoes, and fried bread sat on the table. He had to say, the aroma was enticing.
Although he'd eaten a full dinner the night before, he felt as though he hadn't eaten in weeks, and fell upon the food, greedily.
After he'd practically licked the plate cleaned, he looked through the paper quickly. He was just pouring another cup of tea, when the door opened a crack, and Sir Roger peered in.
Andrew jumped up, and called out, "Please sir. Come in. I can rinse out my cup, if you'd like some tea."
"No, thank you, my boy. I've had my breakfast." He smiled and added, "In fact, I've had my lunch. You slept almost eighteen hours. So, I guess I must have been right. You really did need the rest."
"Eighteen hours?" Drew cried. "I don't think I've slept that long since a particularly extended pub-crawl in my university days."
"I hope you don't think of me as meddling, but you were in pretty sorry shape. Even you must admit you feel better. And I can tell you that you look and sound much healthier.
"Now, do you remember what we spoke about last night?"
"Yes sir. I have to be positive, and take care of myself, so that I can take care of Beth when she wakes up."
"Excellent! Now, I see Sarah has provided some reading material for you." He looked at Andrew, and then added, "Unless you'd like to go for a walk or something.
"I meant what I promised last night. Beth will not be left alone. We'll all take turns. After all, we are all her family."
"No, sir. I don't want to go out right now. Later, perhaps. But for now, I think I'd like to begin reading to Beth. Maybe there is something in what the doctor said. And Fitz said they were some of Beth's favorites."
"Well, then. I'll leave you to it. Now, you're cell phone is over there, charging," he said, pointing to another small table beside Andrew's bed, "so, call if you think of something you'd like -- or even if you'd like some company. None of us believe you have to do this on your own. All right?"
"Yes, sir." Andrew felt a sheepish look cloud his face as he added, "And, sir...I'm sorry I became so...irrational. Thank you for speaking to me as you did."
"You are as much my son now as Richard. We spoke about that right before the wedding. Do you remember?"
"Yes, sir."
"Well, then we'll have no more of such talk, shall we?"
"No, sir."
Beth's father patted him on the shoulder, kissed Beth's forehead and left, with Fitz in tow.
Andrew poured out another cup of tea, and when he picked up the top volume of the pile of books, a paper fluttered out.
Andrew,
I've stacked these in the order of publication. Aunt Beth likes reading them in order.
Call if you need more books, or you just want someone to spell you.
Sarah
He folded the paper into a long strip, opened the first book and began:
"Whose Body"
By Dorothy L. Sayers
The Singular Adventure of the Man with the Golden Pince-Nez
Chapter One
"Oh, damn!" said Lord Peter Wimsey at Piccadilly Circus. "Hi, driver!"
*****
"Andrew," a woman whispered, as she peered in. Her voice broke the early morning silence of Beth's hospital room and grabbed Drew's full attention. Although, he hadn't been asleep, he'd been wool-gathering. He looked up and gestured for her to come in.
Corinne Morgan smiled at her son-in-law as he jumped up, so she could sit down. He pulled the hard, straight-backed chair over beside her, and answered her unasked question, "She hasn't moved. But I won't give up. We finished up Clouds of Witness last night. So, as soon as I clean up and have some breakfast, we'll start reading the next one on Sarah's list."
"Andrew," Corinne said softly, "I've been wanting to speak with you about something. Something Roger, and Joe, and I think is important. And, I know it's not something pleasant, or anything you particularly want to hear, but--"
"I won't do it!" he cried out. "I will not give permission to take her--"
"Hush, Drew," his mother-in-law told him. "I'm not suggesting to disconnect Beth from anything. Besides, dear, she's on an IV and catheterized -- she's not on life support.
"No, Andrew, it's about James."
"What about him?"
"It's been nearly two weeks, dear. We need to bury him, to have a service for him. People need closure."
"But--"
"I know we spoke earlier about burying them together. But that was when Joe and I first arrived. And, we all were afraid Beth was going to die, as well. But, as I said, it's been two weeks now. She is still quite alive. In fact, from everything we hear from the doctors, she’s perfectly healthy -- aside from being unconscious."
"Corinne, please. We can't do anything so...so...final, without Beth knowing."
"Andrew, while Roger, or Joe, or I don't believe Beth is going to die, the reality is she might stay like this for years. It's just one of those unexplained medical mysteries."
"You don't think she'll wake up, do you?"
"Quite the contrary. I believe she will wake up -- but in her own time." She reached out and placed her hand on Drew's arm. It was a gesture Beth did often as they discussed something. The very act of it made him scream inside as he wondered if he would ever feel Elizabeth's hand on his arm again. "Son, James deserves a decent burial. And the rest of his family needs the ceremony so they can move on with their own lives."
"I...I don't know how to even arrange a funeral. And he's so tiny. He's just a baby." He was suddenly so aware of the pain in his voice. Had he become so weak?
"We'll take care of everything, Andrew. And it's not going to be anything elaborate. Just a brief service to honor James' memory, and then his internment."
Internment. The very word froze his blood. He'd been interned in that rat-hole of a cellar, all those years ago in school. Surely, there was some other way. "Corinne, must we...must we bury him?"
"We thought you'd prefer that to cremation. But he's your son, so it's your choice in the end. And, Beth's always said she wants to be cremated. Is that what you want?"
"Me, personally? Yes, but I just don't know. Carole was cremated. It's just they're both so horrible to think about. He's only a baby."
"I know, dear. But, those are your choices. Your only choices, I'm afraid. You take some time to decide. And, in the meantime, Roger and I will take care of everything. All right?"
"Yes..."
/> "Don't fret over this, Andrew. I know you've dealt with Carole's death before. But it doesn't seem to have affected you -- at least, not like James' death. I'm not telling you this is something easy. It's not. It never is. But, death is a part of life. And, there's an end of it."
With that, she stood up, kissed his cheek, walked over to her daughter, and stroked her forehead tenderly, and then left, closing the door behind her, leaving Andrew with his thoughts.
In the end, he knew she was right. Yet, somehow, the idea of burning his tiny son's body to ash was beyond comprehension. So, he decided on a burial and tried not to think about it.
The real nightmare was how he would tell Beth about it when she finally woke up.
An Unnatural Death
By Dorothy L. Sayers
Part One
The Medical Problem
"But how I caught it, found it, or came by it, What stuff 'tis made of, whereof it is born, I am to learn."
Merchant of Venice
Chapter One
Overheard
"The death was certainly sudden, unexpected, and to me mysterious."
Letter from Dr. Paterson to the registrar in the case of Reg. v. Pritchard
"But if he thought the woman was being murdered--"
"My dear Charles," said the young man with the monocle, "it doesn’t do for people, especially doctors to go about 'thinking' things...."
*****
In the end, things went relatively painlessly. The arrangements were taken care of rapidly. Before Andrew really knew what was happening, James' brief life was honored and the little fellow was laid to rest.
Andrew even consented to Bridget staying with Beth the hour or so he was actually away from her.
Since he was eating and sleeping regularly, he had relaxed a bit. So, it was no longer necessary for one of the family to sit with Beth while he showered or slept. Now that he was sleeping, he was sure he'd hear her if she called to him. After all, he was a very light sleeper when he was well-rested.
Duty With Honor Book Five: An Unexpected Pause Page 9