by Leen Elle
The news when Promise came into work the next day was depressing. Despite her medications, Mrs. Helen had been sent out to hospital yesterday. She was expected back some time today though. Promise would be sure to keep an eye out for her on the admission list. It was only Tuesday but if Mrs. Helen was on another one of her downward spirals she may not be up to visitors this Saturday.
The most charming thorn in her side arrived shortly after noon meal, huffing and puffing about her treatment during her stay at the hospital. After Mrs. Helen was settled into her room, Promise gathered the woman's medications in one hand and her patience in the other and headed towards her door.
To her baffled delight the elderly woman accepted them with a thank you and ingested them quickly. Giving her a broad smile she twittered, "I have to keep my health up so that young man can come see me this Saturday. It's such a bore without him about."
"I'd imagine so with that arm the way it is," Promise commented, hoping to steer the conversation way from where it was headed. "How is your arm, Mrs. Helen?"
"Much better, Miss. Promise," Mrs. Helen said with a bit of irritation in her tone. "All it's doing is itching me anymore."
"That will happen."
"I'm ready to have this thing off. It was just a little fracture. Why when I was a little girl…" She sighed as she succumbed to the wave of nostalgia that washed pleasantly over her. Leaning back in her rocking chair, she swayed it gently back and forth with the memories. A few moments later, however, she shook her head. "No use thinking about the past," she informed Promise in a matter of fact tone. "But the future is to be thought of."
Promise's mind scrabbled for a polite way to end the conversation before it went farther. She didn't feel like discussing where this conversation was headed. "That young man Conner…"
"Colin," Promise corrected.
Mrs. Helen smiled and continued, "He's special."
"Special?"
"I've seen that other man you have round here sometimes. He's not. I don't like that man…"
"He won't be coming around anymore. Not to see me at least," Promise told her quietly as she tucked a hair behind her ear.
"Good. You're much better than him," Mrs. Helen didn't pause as she continued, "Now that young man that comes to see me every weekend… He's a keeper. You don't find someone like him everyday. Why my husband…"
"Colin and I…" Promise paused then pulled herself a little straighter. In a firm tone she responded, "Colin and I are not up for discussion."
Plucking the empty medicine cup from the nightstand, she reminded herself she didn't have to endure Mrs. Helen's chatter. She was the old woman's nurse not her granddaughter. Still…
"I've seen the way he watches you," Mrs. Helen put in as Promise reached the door, "he wears his heart in his eyes." Fingers pressed to the door, Promise paused. His heart in his eyes… An old woman's idle prattle. She was just saying it to get attention. The thought haunted Promise through the rest of her rounds. Mrs. Helen was trying to get her attention; was Colin too?
"Hey Mikey, this is Selah. I was just calling to, well to apologize. I completely did not even give you a chance to explain. I must have seemed like such a jerk. Hope you can forgive me. I've missed you round the Daisy. Well that's really all I got to tell you. I gotta give Dante a call before my break ends so I'll talk to you later."
Michael stared at his answering machine, the knife still posed over the tomato in his hands. Had that message really been left by Selah? It was her voice but since when did she admit she was wrong?
Returning to preparing his salad he left his mind wander. He sliced up what remained before him, his movements slow with thought. Should he call her back? No, her break would be over soon and she already said she had to call Dante before it ended. Would it be too odd if he showed up there this for lunch? He'd had salads for the past week. Scooping all the chopped bits of green, red and white into his bowl he pondered the idea. As if anything need be considered!
Grabbing the plastic wrap from the drawer nearby he hurried to cover his salad. Tossing it in the refrigerator he brushed his work surface off quickly then snatched his keys from their peg on the wall. If stalking her onto a dating site hadn't tipped her off to his feelings for her him showing up half on hour after her call wouldn't either.
As he entered the nursing home that Saturday, Colin was anxious to see Promise. He hadn't really her since Tuesday and was worried about how she was holding up. He'd seen her once or twice in the park across from his work but never had the time to socialize. He'd called her, once, but the conversation was short and shallow, thanks to Alex's culinary demands.
Walking over to the nurses' desk, he stopped quietly and watched Promise work for a moment. Satisfied she wasn't paying attention, he rapped on the counter to draw her eyes up. Jumping slightly at the sudden noise she stared at him then stuttered, "h-here so soon?"
"Couldn't stay away another moment longer," he tried to quip light heartedly.
"Someone here must have really caught your eye," Promise bantered in return. "Wasn't our dear Mrs. Helen was it?"
"She's quite a catch but I fear it would never work out. Sadly, she's completely out of my league." He tried to keep his eyes from wandering to hers but they moved on their own. He stared at her a moment and thinking she too was out of his league.
"Promise, I…" His words stumbled as a weight suddenly latched onto his arm.
"I've been wounded," the man gasped dramatically, clutching one set of fingers in the other.
"Mr. Johnson," Promise began to interrupt.
"Who goes there?" the old man demanded in a military tone.
"Nurse Genson."
"Patch me up nurse; I've got a battle to get on to."
"The war has been over for many years now, Mr. Johnson," she informed him calmly, "I can assure you all your wounds…"
"No, Prick, I think he is," Colin stuttered slightly as he pointed to the redness seeping from the man's clutched hand.
"Indeed I am, young man, this soldier may be old but he's still got it."
"I've got to take care of this, Colin," Promise told him as she hurriedly directed the man towards her supplies, "Mrs. Helen is eager to see you I'm sure."
That evening, when Colin returned home, Sean jumped over the back of the couch and ran to greet him. With an expectant look on his face he inquired, "So did you tell her, man?" Colin sighed.
"No."
"Come on, man! If you don't tell her soon I'm gonna."
"She upset; she just broke up with Aidan. She doesn't need me trying to make her swallow how I truly feel about her right now. She has enough on her mind"
"And the grim reaper will rend her limb from limb and cut her off from life everlasting, all because you told her you love her," Gripping his sides Sean exploded in laughter and giggles, "you just don't want to be the rebound."
"No I don't, while some many be content with that," he fixed Sean with a glare, "I am not. I've been patient thus far. I'm not going to blow it now."
"If you had spoken up earlier you might be married and have kids by now."
"And not be living with you?"
"Yes, and not be living with me." Sean laughed then sobered, frowning, "Hey now, living with me isn't so bad."
"When I'm at work," Colin returned quickly, "At least my clients don't breathe down my neck about my love life."
"They don't breathe period."
Colin didn't acknowledge the glaringly obvious comment. Taking a pitcher out of the refrigerator, Colin poured himself a cool drink and took several sips.
"You're hopeless." Straightening, Sean grabbed the half open bag of chips off the counter and sauntered over to the couch. Jumping over the back again, he turned up the volume and affixed his gaze to the screen. Sighing in relief, Colin gathered his things from the counter and slipped into his room. Today had been a long day. Tomorrow would be better; it had to.
"Prom, you've got to give me the next chapter," Adelie bubbled, a manila f
older clasped haphazardly against her chest. "Mr. Matthews is asking to see it."
Sighing, Promise tried to put all her present obligations and troubles out of her mind. It wouldn't do to tell an editor with such an avid interest on her story that it had fallen into an unofficial hiatus. With everything going on in her life she just didn't have time to work on it. Days at work were full of mislabeled medications, fumbled forms, and wing woes. If anything could go wrong it was going wrong and at this moment. And that wasn't even delving into her personal life.
Rubbing her temples she tried to think of the proper wording for the present condition of the progress, if could she even use that term, of her novel. "I'm afraid it's not finished just yet. Things have been busy lately and…"
"No, need to explain," Adelie piped up, "just get it to me when you can."
"Really?"
"Well, Mr. Matthews said he wanted it by the end of the month."
"End of the month? I can't do that. You don't understand, Adelie. You don't know what's been…"
"Then tell me," her friend urged, giving her arm a squeeze and sitting down beside her, "you haven't really talked to me since you started going out with that guy. What's his name?"
"Aidan." Promise sniffled, curing the tears that came to her eyes. "He did something unforgivable to me. I'm never seeing him again."
"What!"
"Lied for starters. Got another girl pregnant behind my back. Cheated on me…"
"No!"
"Then there's work. Seems everyone thinks this month is a fine time to kick the bucket. There's a ringing in my ears from it all. I just don't know how much more I can take."
"I'll… I'll talk to Mr. Matthews about the deadline," Adelie comforted her. "He's a compassionate man; I'm sure he'll understand."
Blotting her tears dry, Promise gave Adelie a shaky smile. "I'm sure this will pass. It just all seems so overwhelming right now."
"You're right," Adelie beamed, "tomorrow is another brighter day." Promise giggled quietly.
"With my luck recently, it shall blind me then." Adelie chortled along with her.
"If you should be so lucky."
When Promise returned home that evening, she pushed the button on her answering machine, per routine, absentmindedly set to doing her evening chores. When a sober, quiet voice came on the speaker she stopped to listen, "Promise, this is Lydia. I know it's not protocol to call nurses about a patient taking a turn for the worst but I know you're very close to Mrs. Helen, probably the closet thing to family she has left. There's no easy way to say this..."
There was a paused then the woman's voice continued, "Mrs. Helen is in intensive care at the hospital. No one is quite sure what happened yet but she was found unconscious by her nightstand after shift change. The doctors think she had a seizure while standing and hit her head on it. They're not sure how long she's been unconscious and are holding out on a prognosis of her condition. Things…" The machine beeped loudly then informed her, "end of messages."
Selah watched Michael eat as she cleaned the counter nearby. He was a lanky fellow; she didn't know where he put it all. He ate her at least every Friday at lunch and most weeks far more often than that. It seemed like every time she turned around he or Dante was parked on one of her fine counter stools, ordering, eating, or just plain loitering.
As of late she hadn't been without one by her side; however, when Dante pushed her off for other social interactions, Michael still showed. He was everywhere and, strangely, that didn't bother her. His presence was comforting, as it always had been.
Selah's work on the counter slowed as her thoughts slipped deeper. When had it happened? Selah wasn't sure when or how or why but she knew she was falling in love with him. She, Selah Donovan, career restaurant owner and social light was falling for a too tall, too thin artist who barely remembered to comb his hair. She was a carefree spirit tripping over an old stick in the mud.
When she really thought about it she realized been falling for him for years, just didn't know it. The thought jolted her and Michael looked up from his meal, question in his eyes. Smiling she went back to cleaning the counter, afraid he would see what was in hers.
She'd been foolish to think she could ever find love in a man as demanding and callous as Haruko or as carefree and careless as Dante. She needed someone patient and thoughtful and Michael was just that man. Why had it taken her so long to see that? Why had she stubbornly refused his advice?
Blocking out the face of the hot tempered Asian that rose she was surprised the image didn't conjure the fear it had just weeks ago. How could it with Michael so close by her side? Hadn't he always been there to take the hits when she landed herself in trouble? Hadn't he always been there to wipe up the tears that she cried? Hadn't he always simply loved her for who she was?
Loved her? Did Michael love her? Hope fluttered futilely in her breast but for a moment. He was in love with someone else. Had he not told her there was a woman who had rejected him that his heart still yearned for? Yes, now she remembered. What had he said about her? I don't think I could love anybody but her. Her heart ached at the thought: his was taken.
Colin stared blankly at his answering machine that evening. Mrs. Helen was… No, it couldn't be. But it was. Mrs. Helen was in a coma. His mind grappled with the reality of it all. He had just been talking to her the day before. She had been fine. Today… she could slip away in her sleep before he ever got to say good bye.
Thankfully Sean was out for the night and not about to make senseless comments. Free from interruption, he gears in his mind began turning. Fumbling blindly for his keys, he dialed Promise's number. He wasn't sure where she would be, home or hospital, but he knew wherever she was he needed to be there. Telephone line vacant of her voice several rings later, he hung up the phone and headed to a place he was all too familiar with: the Philadelphia Area Hospital.
"In what room can I find Mrs. Helen?" Realizing what he asked was very little to go on he added, "she was transferred her from Sun Ray Gardens just a few hours ago."
"Are you a family friend? A relative?"
"No, no I'm… I don't know what I am but I need to find her."
"I'm sorry then sir but…"
"I need to find a woman that will be with her; her name is Promise Genson."
"I think we can get you two in touch," he receptionist told him as she picked up a nearby phone. Colin waited impatiently.
The receptionist told him she'd be down straight away and to take a seat. With nothing else to do but wait he did as he was told and impatiently watched the elevator doors. When they opened several minutes later Promise's eyes darted searchingly about the room. Rising quickly from his chair he waved across the room and hurried to her.
"Has there been any change?" he asked her, impulsively taking her hand in his.
"No," she murmured, her eyes shimmering as she held tightly to his hand. Returning the pressure, he looked towards the elevator.
"Have you eaten lately? Are you thirsty?"
"I had a candy bar from the vending machine," she confessed timidly.
"Let's get something quick then," he suggested, "my treat."
Later, as they walked to her room, Colin asked, "has anyone else been here to see her?"
"No, she doesn't have any family in the area. Your little visits meant so much to her, Colin."
"Meant? She's not dead yet Promise."
"I know but it all seems so…We're here."
Placing his body to block the sterile knob she was reaching for he took a gentle hold on the wings of her shoulders. "Promise, I can't promise you everything will be okay but whatever happens I'm here for you, alright? Always will be," he swallowed a bit at how long always was; always was a long time without her if she told him no. mentally shaking himself he banished the thought. "Understand?"
Nodding, Promise wrapped her arms tightly about him; he smiled at the older couple that stared as they walked by and held her closer. "I know she has to die sometimes but tha
t's life but why? Why do good people like Mrs. Helen have to die?"
"I don't know, sweetheart," Colin responded in a tender tone as he pushed a stray lock of hair out of the path of the tears teetering on her lashes. He tried to stop his speech from stumbling further as it held agape at the endearment slipped past his lowered defenses. Squirming he reached behind him and released the latch holding the door closed. "Let's go see her, if you're ready."
Following his motion Promise slipped past him into Mrs. Helen's room. Heart pulses beeped through the stagnant air as other machines whirred and clicked. The quiet noises were oppressing. His gaze followed Promise's and rested gently on Mrs. Helen's paled features. Taking several steps forward he joined Promise by her bed and pulled up a chair beside the two women.
"Have you tried talking to her?"
"Yes, I thought I saw her lashes flicker but it was just wishful thinking," Promise admitted with a sigh, folding her delicate hands in her lap. They sat in silence for several moments then Colin turned to the woman lying on the bed. She looked so frail. Tentatively, he lifted her hand from the sheet and set her palm against his own.
"Now see here, Mrs. Helen, you can't go making our Promise cry just yet."
"Colin, what are you…"
"We haven't finished that game of Yatzee yet either so you better wake up. I have to go somewhere this weekend so you had better be here when I get back. I heard they're thinking of giving that old Mrs. Coronet you room if you pass; you know the lady that smells like yesterday's fish? I'm not ready to see you in my sterile room just yet." Rising to his feet Colin took her hand a bit tighter. "I won't have you being stubborn on this, old lady."
"Colin!"
"What? Since when has asking her nicely done anything?" Promise tried not to crack a smile at his truthful statement.
"Did… that… doc… she's…" Who had put lead on her chest? Why were there shackles on her arms? Why were they weights on her legs? Why was there a hammer splitting her head?
"She's awake… She's…" Who had put cotton in her ears? Why was her throat so scratchy? Why was there a hammer splitting her head?