A Heart of Little Faith

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A Heart of Little Faith Page 19

by Jennifer Wilck


  He called 911 and continued with the cold compresses as he tried to quell his fear.

  “Come on, honey, wake up. We need you. Claire needs you,” he crooned as he attempted to get through to her. Her teeth chattered, the sound reminding him of his earlier typing at work and he wanted to cradle her to him. But she had to be cooled down.

  He returned from another trip to the bathroom to refresh the washcloth—it didn’t take long for her fever to heat it—when she moaned.

  “Daniel?”

  He froze.

  “Daniel, you came back.”

  Gideon remained silent. He didn’t know whether he should answer her, pretend to be her dead husband and encourage her hallucination, or keep quiet.

  “Why won’t you talk to me?” Her voice was high pitched, edged with hysteria. She started to thrash around.

  He answered her and his words calmed her down. “I’m here Lily, I’m here.” Gideon swallowed. He didn’t want to deceive her, but he didn’t have a choice. His face burned.

  “I knew you’d come back,” she whispered in a little girl voice. “I’ve missed you so much.”

  “I know.”

  “I was afraid I’d forget you.”

  “Forget me?”

  “Forget how wonderful you were, how much we loved each other. Even now, I can’t quite remember your voice.” Her eyes welled with tears, and Gideon wiped them away with shaking hands.

  “It’s okay, Lily, you’ll always remember our love. Claire will help you remember.” She smiled at the thought.

  “I’ve met someone.” She frowned. “Oh, maybe I shouldn’t tell you.”

  His heart pounded. “No, you can tell me. You can tell me anything.” He crossed his fingers and hoped she’d forgive him if she found out.

  “His name is Gideon and he’s wonderful. But I feel guilty.” She stared at him, her glassy eyes focused on something only she could see. He was the one who felt guilty. His throat was dry and he swallowed with difficulty. This was like spying, or reading someone’s diary. He’d never done anything like this before—he valued his own privacy so much, how could he invade hers? But he had to keep her calm, so he forged ahead and promised not to abuse her trust.

  “Why do you feel guilty?”

  “Because of you. I feel like I’m betraying you by falling for someone else.”

  Gideon stared at the ceiling and bit his lip. It tasted salty and he licked it before he answered her. “You deserve to be happy, Lily.”

  “I know.” But she didn’t sound convinced and his heart squeezed.

  “Does he care about you?” Please say yes. He held his breath.

  “Yes, I think so.” Gideon exhaled with a whoosh.

  “Does he care about Claire?” He was more confident on this score.

  “Yes, and Claire loves him.”

  Gideon smiled as warmth that had nothing to do with Lily’s fever spread through his body. “Then how could you betray me?”

  “I guess you’re right. But sometimes he pushes me away.”

  “Maybe he’s trying to protect you,” he offered, his voice hoarse. Hearing her thoughts and fears crushed him. He’d never meant to hurt her.

  Lily blinked slowly. Gideon rested the washcloth on her forehead and brushed the hair out of her face. He traced the bones of her skull with his fingers and soothed her with his touch. The silence between them stretched out, and Gideon wondered if she would fall asleep. “I think he’s trying to protect himself,” she said at last.

  Gideon inhaled through his teeth. “Why?”

  “I don’t think he thinks anyone can love him.”

  “But you can?” Her words, her intimate knowledge of his innermost thoughts, in her delirium, strangled him. Everything around him slowed down, except for the distant ticking of a clock, the sound magnified in his distress. Somehow, she’d been able to see past all of his defenses and get to the truth. Would she remember this when her fever died down? Did he want her to?

  “I already do. But if he knew, he’d yell at me, or worse, leave me.” She sighed and reached for Daniel. Gideon held her hand as his mind reeled. “You know, Daniel, since you died, no one is nice to me anymore and I’m lonely.”

  “What do you mean?” Gideon asked, thrown off kilter once again. Who wasn’t nice to her? She couldn’t mean him or Samantha.

  “Well, people are nice to me, but it’s because I’m a widow. They’re afraid not to be nice to me because they feel badly for me. But they’re not nice to me just because they want to be, or because they like me. Except for Gideon.”

  “He’s nice to you?” He was dying to hear her answer.

  “Well, no. Sometimes he’s rude and mean to me, especially when he thinks I’m getting too close to him. We used to always fight. Now we fight a little less.” Gideon cringed. His heart hurt for what he’d put her through. “But even when he’s mean to me, I still know somewhere, deep down, he likes me. And at least he’s not being nice to me because he feels he has to be. He’s the first person who’s taken away my loneliness since you.”

  He leaned back, unable to see her through his tears, and unable to speak to her because of the lump in his throat. They were alike, the two of them. Both of them wanted to be seen for whom they were inside, but too afraid to let themselves be loved so they each pushed the other away in their own ways.

  “I’m glad you’ve found someone like him,” he whispered when he could form words around the lump.

  “Are you?” Hope filled her voice.

  “Yes.” He dried his tears.

  “I knew you’d understand. You’d like him, you know. I just hope I can be lucky twice.”

  She closed her eyes again and he rubbed her cheek. Sirens wailed in the distance and they seemed to say “Lily, Lily, Lily.” Gideon vowed he’d try to give her what she deserved. Maybe she would be able to help him, too.

  ****

  Two days later, Lily woke to the sound of an announcement over a loud speaker. Who is making so much noise, and what are they doing in my apartment? She opened her eyes, and blinked at the bright lights. Her breath came in short gasps and the pungent odor of antiseptic invaded her nostrils. This is not my apartment. She moved her head around on the pillow. Where am I? And what are all these tubes?

  “Hi.” The deep voice calmed her as effectively as a hug. She turned toward it. Gideon sat next to her bed. At least, she thought it was him. It sounded like him, but he looked awful. He was haggard, he hadn’t shaved, and worry lines radiated around his eyes. His hair was a mess, like he’d run his hands through it continuously.

  “What happened?” Her throat was dry and scratchy.

  “You’ve been sick.”

  “No, I meant to you,” she said. “You look awful.”

  Gideon gave her a sardonic smile. “Gee, it’s nice to see you, too.”

  Lily closed her eyes in embarrassment. “I’m sorry; I didn’t mean to offend you. You just seem so tired.”

  “Yeah, well, I’ve been here, worried about you. You’ve been unconscious for two days.”

  Lily gasped. “Where’s Claire?”

  Gideon stroked her face. “It’s okay, she’s with Samantha. Everything is fine.”

  Lily sighed in relief and sank into her pillow. “What happened?”

  “Apparently, you had a bad case of the flu, but you’re going to be fine. You’re at St. Vincent’s.” She attempted to stay awake, but it was too much of a struggle. Gideon continued to stroke her face, soothing all her fears. “Go to sleep. I’ll be here when you wake up.” She drifted off, her cheek resting against his palm.

  Later that afternoon, Lily woke and felt much better. The doctor examined her, removed the IV after she proved she could drink and left them alone.

  “You should get some sleep, you know,” she murmured. He appeared worse than she felt. His skin was gray; his clothes were rumpled.

  “It’s okay.”

  “I thought you don’t like hospitals?”

  “I don’t.�
��

  “Then why are you here?”

  He met her gaze and in it she saw love, despair and acceptance. “Because you are.”

  She squeezed his hand. It was solid, yet he was vulnerable right now. For the first time, he’d put aside his own fears for her. If she had the energy, she would have leapt out of the bed and into his arms. “I’m going to be fine, you know. It’s okay to get some rest.”

  “I can’t.” His brown eyes behind his glasses were empty and flat, and sudden comprehension dawned. Although he’d never told her about his accident, she remembered her conversation with Samantha.

  “Too many memories?”

  He stiffened, and Lily thought he’d head her off as he usually did. Instead, he nodded. “Yeah.” His voice cracked. Sunlight hit his dark blond hair and turn it a deep gold. It resembled a halo, but his face was haunted. His Adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed. Her hand ached in his, but she was afraid to move it. Somehow, she knew she was his lifeline, and she let him hold on as she waited to see if he would continue.

  “I remember being afraid.” He hesitated then took a ragged breath and continued. “Afraid of never walking again, of needing to be taken care of, of how my life would change. The fear forced itself into my mouth and wrapped around my tongue; it bored a hole into my head and bounced off my eardrums. It became a living, breathing cohabitant of my bed.”

  He clenched his free hand into a fist. “I didn’t just have to learn to adjust to my physical limitations; I had to learn to beat back the fear.” He glared into the distance. “It took every ounce of energy I had, every bit of willpower to overcome that fear. I can’t let it return.”

  When he finished speaking he released her and stared out of the window. The sudden freedom made her miss his firm grip. She reached out for him and he placed his dry palm to hers. She clasped his wrist. His pulse beat against hers and she stroked the back of his hand. He stared at her fingers and took a deep breath.

  She patted the bed next to her. “Why don’t you lay with me?”

  He tilted his head, once again focused on the present. “Why?”

  “Because you’re exhausted. There’s plenty of space. You won’t hurt me, and maybe I can keep your fear at bay.” She knew about fear—of being alone, of responsibility, of forgetting the past even as she struggled to move on.

  He didn’t believe her. She could see it in his eyes, how they narrowed and glinted amber. But somewhere deep inside, she saw a spark of hope, and she cradled it, protected it and refused to let it disappear. She met his gaze and hopefully let her love for him show.

  “Please.”

  “Lil, I’m not going to sleep here.”

  “So you can just rest. But it’s got to be more comfortable than that chair of yours.”

  She thought he’d refuse, but to her surprise, he relented. Maybe he was too tired to argue. Maybe he was relieved she was going to be okay. Whatever the reason, he nodded. The bed was much higher than his chair, and as he wobbled, she attempted to steady him. He gave a wry laugh.

  “Talk about the blind leading the blind.”

  She joined in, and he climbed somewhat clumsily onto the bed. She moved over to make room for him, and he lay next to her, leaving as much space between them as possible.

  “I’m not hurting you, am I?” As he started to move away from her, she glared, and he stopped.

  She caressed the side of cheek as he wrapped his arm around her. His weight reassured her. She wouldn’t float away into some sick delirium. He anchored her, and now she wanted to do the same for him. “No, you’re not.”

  “I’m not going to fall asleep,” he said, as he stifled a yawn. Exhaustion overtook him and weighted his limbs. His eyelids lowered and his mouth softened. Heat from his body enveloped her.

  “It’s okay.” She continued the rhythmic motion on his cheek.

  It felt good lying with him. He started to say something, but his eyes closed. He jerked them open and he balled the blanket in his fists.

  “Shhh,” she said. She took his hand, squeezed it and brought it to rest on her chest. Her heart beat beneath his palm. His eyes closed again, and this time, he fell asleep.

  When he woke, bright sunshine streamed in the windows. He sat up. Lily sat on a chair next to the bed, eating breakfast. She smiled.

  “Hey, sleepyhead,” she chirped, after she finished her mouthful of toast. “Your glasses are on the table next to the bed.”

  He reached for them, put them on, and stared at her. She smiled as she finished eating. Still haggard, his color was better and his stress lines had lessened. He’d slept through the night. Not even the nurses checking on her, or her getting up to eat breakfast, had awakened him. “Did I sleep?”

  Lily smiled. “Snored, too.” Somehow, that little flaw made him more human.

  Horror crossed his face. “Oh no. Did I keep you up?”

  Lily shook her head. “No, don’t worry; you didn’t disturb me at all. You’re making a habit of falling asleep on me though.”

  He reddened. “Guess you just have that effect on me.”

  She rolled her eyes. “They’re releasing me today.”

  “That’s great. Let me get myself together and I’ll help you get ready.”

  A half hour later they sat and waited for her to be discharged. When the nurse came in with the wheelchair, Gideon stiffened. Lily glanced from the strain on his face to the chair the nurse pushed.

  “Look Gideon, his and hers!” she quipped.

  He coughed. “I’ve got a better idea.” He patted his lap and Lily checked with the nurse. When she nodded, Lily settled herself into his lap and they departed the hospital.

  “Gee, my own private chauffeur,” she said as she nuzzled his neck. “How’d I manage that?”

  “Wait until you hear the payment.”

  Lily raised an eyebrow. “And if I refuse to pay?”

  “I may just have to cut your ride short.” He furrowed his brow in mock anger and moved as if to push her off his lap.

  She squealed, and threw her arms around him. Her chest pressed against his; its rock hardness contrasted with her softness and she longed to feel well enough to feel his skin against hers.

  “That’s much better,” he whispered, as he cradled her body to his.

  Chapter 22

  Gideon paused at the threshold of Lily’s apartment, hand on the cold brass knob, her in his lap. Memories from a few days ago washed over him and filled him with an icy dread. The still apartment, her feverish body, his fear for her. He swallowed as he convinced himself everything was okay.

  “Um, are we going in?”

  Her words interrupted his thoughts and her weight in his lap reminded him she was here, safe with him. Gentle heat from her body calmed him. Such a difference from a few days ago, when touching her made him sweat. The tension in his body began to ease; the kinks in his muscles started to unwind.

  He shook his head to clear the cobwebs. “Yeah, sorry.” He opened the door and Lily stood.

  As they entered the apartment, Samantha and Claire welcomed her like a returning war hero. Claire screamed and ran over to her, jumped into her arms and hugged her so tightly, she stumbled backward. Clamping his jaw closed to prevent himself from yelling at Claire, Gideon rushed forward. He grasped her waist, as Samantha raced over to pry Claire off of her.

  “Why don’t you give your mom what you made her?”

  Claire raced into her room and Gideon steered Lily into the apartment and over to the sofa. She was as substantial as a twig and he shuddered.

  Lily sank into the cushions as Claire jumped onto the couch next to her. She hugged her mother again and handed her a pile of papers, including a get-well card, several pictures and a poem. As she read the poem, her eyes welled with tears and she leaned over and hugged Claire. “I missed you so much, sweetie.”

  “Me too, Mommy. Don’t ever do that again.” Claire pulled away and frowned at her.

  Lily took her cheeks in her palms and kissed h
er. “I’ll try not to, honey, okay? Now, tell me everything you did with Samantha while I was gone.”

  As Lily and Claire talked, Gideon and Samantha put Lily’s things away and pulled down the covers of her bed. When mother and daughter finished, he came over.

  “Okay you two, that’s enough for now.” He picked Lily up and put her on his lap. His breath caught in his chest as her bones dug into his lap and side.

  “What are you doing?” she sputtered.

  “Putting you to bed.”

  He and Sam both ignored Lily’s protests and put her to bed.

  “I’m not tired.” She struggled to get up, but Samantha gently pushed her into the pillow.

  “You have to rest to regain your strength,” Gideon answered. “Take a nap.” He shut the door before she could respond.

  From the other side of the door, Gideon heard Lily mutter. She hated being handled, but it was the best thing for her right now. She needed her rest. He waited at the door, determined to block her path if she dared to open the door, but it remained shut. A lack of noise from within told him she’d fallen asleep, and after a few moments, he left his post.

  An hour later, he knocked on the door, her dinner tray on his lap, Claire peeking over his shoulder. They arranged the tray on her lap and returned with their own food.

  “See Mom, it’s just like a picnic.” Lily smiled at Claire and the three of them caught up on three days’ worth of news.

  As she stifled a yawn, Gideon said, “Come on, kiddo; let’s get you ready for bed.” Unfortunately, after being separated from her mother for so long, Claire wasn’t ready to relinquish the attention.

  “I don’t want to go to bed, Mommy. Please can’t I stay up a little later? Please, pretty please?” Claire gave her soulful eyes as she hugged her.

  Lily couldn’t help smiling. She reminded her of a puppy dog. “I love your hugs, Claire, I do, but they’re not going to work this time. It’s time for bed. You have a big day at school tomorrow. Now go and get undressed.”

  Like a sudden summer storm, Claire’s mood changed from pleadingly sweet to angry in seconds. “It’s not fair,” she shouted as she stomped across the room. “I never get what I want!”

 

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