Paul asked, “What did you think he was implying in that?”
“I thought he was saying because Brian is older than I am that I relate to him as a father figure, a sort of replacement for my own lousy father.”
After several false starts on a diplomatic response, Brian finally just spoke his mind. “I don’t think I care much for that implication myself.”
Paul turned his attention to Brain, “Why not?”
“Because I don’t think that Emily’s attraction to me has anything to do with the difference in our ages. As a matter of fact, the one thing about me that annoys her most is my tendency to try to run her life. If she were looking for a father figure, wouldn’t she want me to run her life?”
Paul said, “Sometimes girls rebel at their fathers’ running their lives, but that doesn’t mean that I agree with the implication either. There are other psychiatrists out there. Let me know, and I’ll recommend one.”
Brian phoned Emily’s hospital room the next morning.
“Good morning, sweetheart. How was your night?”
“All right, I guess. How about you, did you sleep all right?”
“Oh, fine. I just wanted to let you know that the police called and they’re finished with your car. They’ve had it at their garage. I want to put new tires on it and bring it out to the house. Is that okay with you?”
“Yes, I appreciate it. I wondered the other day where it was. You will probably have to fill out a ream of papers if I know city government.”
“Well, whatever. Is there any thing you’d like me to bring you?”
“I would love some root beer,” she said wistfully. “And my own bathrobe.”
“I’ll bring both when I come.”
And so, Emily having been right about filling out papers, it was lunch time when Brian finally arrived. She recognized his distinctive step in the hall and called out, “Come in, Brian,” when he knocked. “I’m glad to see you, I’m dying of pure clotted boredom in here. Did it take an act of Congress to get my car taken care of?”
“Something like that. Anyway, it’s done. What have you been doing with yourself all day?” As he spoke he poured her a cold glass of root beer (not plastic cup, glass, he brought it with him knowing that she liked her root beer only from a glass)
She watched him with an appreciative grin on her face and answered, “Just waiting for you.”
It had been a week since Emily was hurt. For Brian it had seemed more like a year. His days had been a succession of worry and fear, sorrow and helplessness. He had been angry and frustrated. He was as tired as he had ever been, and it showed in his face. For Emily, there had been five days since she had come back to consciousness. What had passed before she could only imagine, but the time since had been filled with pain and fear, confusion and anger. And over all of it for her was the terrible feeling of shame, of violation, that she could not adequately express. As the two of them sat quietly sipping their root beer, a turning point in the process of recovery began.
Throughout their relationship, they had been learning the lesson that recovery from the past begins when the wounded heart turns to another and allows itself to say, “I hurt, but you can help.” To admit that truth opens the doors to communication not only from person to person, but also from people to God. Emily had preached it, now she was going to live it.
The phone rang. Brian could only hear Emily’s part of the conversation.
“Hello... Oh, what a nice surprise! ...Oh, I’m doing fairly well...Yes, it is difficult...” Emily’s voice seemed a little strained. “I want to thank you for the lovely flowers, I’ve really enjoyed them....Oh, I can imagine. I know it must be a lot of work undoing all of that...Thank you...Oh, all right, I’ll hold for him...Yes, I will. Good-bye.”
Brian had figured out that Emily must be talking to his parents, since they were the only ones who sent a flower arrangement and that his mother was the one who was undoing wedding arrangements. He pictured the phone changing hands at the other end, and then Emily resumed.
“Hi, how are you? ...Oh, I’m making progress...Yes, it has been very hard on him....I appreciate that very much, Dr. McClellan...” And then Brian was astonished to see a tear wending its way down Emily’s cheek. After every thing she’d been through, whatever it was that his father was saying actually started her crying. She held her hand against her lips to keep the sound of her crying from escaping into the phone. She went on, “That’s very kind of you...” By now she was sobbing as quietly as she could, just managing to choke out her last remark, “You can’t begin to know how much that means to me, I love you, too. Good-bye.”
As soon as she put down the phone the torrent she had been holding in burst out. Brian had never seen her cry like this, he had never seen anyone cry like this. He just held her in his arms and patted her back and murmured, “It’s all right Emily, you go ahead and cry.”
Finally, after about a half an hour, she was all cried out. She pulled away from Brian with a start as if she hadn’t realized how close she was to him. He took it in stride and asked, “Can you tell me what he said?”
“He was saying that you were worrying about me, and I said that I knew it had been hard on you. Then he said that I had been so good for you and that you had never been so happy as in the last year. He said that he would pray for me. Then he said he had always wanted a daughter, and that if he’d had his pick, I’m the daughter he’d have chosen. He said he was proud that I was going to be part of the family, and that he loved me.”
Brian would have thought it impossible that she had any more tears, but she found a few more, and he had a few to lose himself. Finally he said, “Class act, my Dad, huh?”
Little did he realize that besides tears, she had been saving up questions that she was too embarrassed to ask.
“Do you remember when I went to Dr. McGinnis and I was all upset and you sat down and explained things to me?” At his nod, she continued, “I’ve got some other things I wish you’d explain to me, but they’re awfully embarrassing things for a grown woman not to know.”
Brian spoke gently but firmly. “There’s nothing we can’t talk about, nothing I won’t explain to you if I can.”
She asked him questions about the crime that had been committed against her such as “Why did he tie me up, did he think I would get away with a broken arm?” “How many people saw me when I was brought in to the emergency room with no clothes on?” and “How do the police know what blood type he is?” He hated to have to tell her the sordid truths, but he sympathized completely with her need to understand what had happened. He answered each question carefully.
Chapter 7
“Brian, how long were you in the hospital when you got hurt in the war?”
She had been unusually quiet all morning, obviously brooding over something, and he knew when she was in that sort of mood, she was liable to come up with anything.
“Oh, I don’t remember exactly, sweetheart, several months.”
“Months! Several months! I don’t know how you did it. I’ve been here a week and I can’t stand it. You know, a hospital is a terrible place to try to get well in.” The humor in the last statement struck Brian, but he thought it best not to show it.
“What about the hospital don’t you like?”
“Everything. The noises, the sterility, the food, the constant invasions of privacy. And it’s so incredibly boring. I can’t sleep, I can’t get comfortable.” After a pause, she said, “I’m sorry. You don’t need to hear all my troubles. I’m just crabby because we’re missing our flight.”
This was to have been the day that they left for Vermont for the wedding. Besides the emotional turmoil of missing her wedding, Emily had never been on an airplane, and had been looking forward to a new experience. Instead she was scheduled to spend the day having new x-rays taken of her arm and skull, having therapy so she could practice eye-hand co-ordination, and resting quietly like a good patient. She was in the uncomfortable position of lookin
g ahead and knowing for a certainty that there were bleak, painful days waiting for her. Of course, people kept assuring her that at the end of it all, there would be good times again, but that seemed much more uncertain.
“Brian, why don’t you go ahead and go to Vermont for a few days? It can’t be much fun hanging around this place all day every day. You’ve had enough of hospital rooms in your life already.” Emily made the suggestion quite seriously, although she didn’t think he’d take her up on it. It made her feel guilty to see him languishing away in this dreary environment at her expense.
“I’m not about to leave you like this. When I go to Vermont next, it will be to get married.”
She breathed such a deep sigh of relief, Brian had to laugh. “So you weren’t trying to get rid of me, huh?”
The x-rays were taken and the therapist came and went and by afternoon, Emily was exhausted. The pain machine had been removed from her room and for the first time she missed it. The nurse brought her a dose of acetominophen with codeine, and she was soon sound asleep.
Brian availed himself of the opportunity to talk to Dr. Vogler. He waited for a break in the doctor’s schedule and was finally admitted into his office. He had long since decided his approach, a flat out frontal attack.
“I want to take Emily home.”
Dr. Vogler allowed no reaction whatever to interrupt the placidity of his professional countenance. “I don’t think that would be advisable at this juncture.”
“I was given to understand that her x-rays from today looked very encouraging. I’ve already spoken with the orthopedist and the physical therapist, and they don’t see any reason why she couldn’t receive her care at home. What’s your objection?”
“Miss Stone has had a very traumatic experience. There have been signs of erratic behavior. She has refused to cooperate with the psychiatrist who might have been able to help her. I think it might be best to keep her a few more days until she is more stable. She requires constant, sometimes physically demanding care.”
Emily had always marveled at the evenness of Brian’s temper, but in truth he could lose it in a hurry under the right provocation. He was very tempted to do so right now. He resented the characterization of Emily’s behavior as erratic or unstable, and he also resented the implication that he was not physically up to the demands her care would entail. The bottom line, however, was that Dr. Vogler was the only person who stood in the way of what he wanted, and losing his cool would not help.
“I agree that Emily’s experience last week was very traumatic, but it was also traumatic for her to have to hear about it from a newspaper. If her behavior was erratic, it was because you made the wrong call in keeping the truth from her. The bottom line is that she’s not eating, she’s not sleeping, and she is uncomfortable and unhappy here. I’ll see to it that she has the care she needs. I want her discharged in the morning unless you have a solid medical reason for keeping her.”
When he returned to the room, Emily was awake and sitting up in bed working on a cross word puzzle. She looked up at him and smiled, “I thought maybe you went home.”
“No, I’ve been talking to Dr. Vogler. I have a proposition for you.”
“Well, I haven’t been propositioned all day, I’m game.”
“If you could be comfortable having me take care of you, and if you would promise to be a cooperative patient, I have your doctor’s permission to take you home tomorrow.”
“You mean home to your house?” she asked incredulously.
“No, home to our house.” He smiled and then said carefully, “You’d have to be sure that you could feel comfortable with me taking care of you.” He wondered if he should have been more blunt, more explicit.
“Brian,” she began slowly, “I want to get away from this place more than I’ve wanted anything in a very long time. I promise to behave myself the very best way I can, okay?”
And so the morning found them undertaking the tedious process of checking out of the hospital. First there was the final going over by Dr. Vogler. He left a prescription for a variety of pills. Then the orthopedist did his thing and left a long list of instructions for the care and maintenance of a plaster cast. The maneuverings necessary to get Emily including her broken arm dressed were left to a nurse, while Brian made sure that the business dealings and paper signings were taken care of.
On the drive home they listened to a tape of Bach’s Brandenburg concertos, one of Emily’s favorite pieces of music. Brian detected a smile on her face, the first real smile he had seen in days. As they pulled into the driveway, she noticed her car parked there, and shuddered slightly. Brian noticed and asked, “What’s the matter?”
Her response gave an indication of the train of her thoughts, “If that car could talk, I’ll bet it could give a description to the police.”
As Brian helped her out of the car, he wondered to what extent the pursuit of her attacker had preyed on her mind. Detective Hoffstedter had not been back to see her since the one time when he asked about her broken ribs. She had asked no questions about the investigation, which she knew was continuing, but she could get all the available information from the newspaper accounts which she read carefully. Brian hoped that now that she was away from the hospital, she could begin to put the tragedy out of her mind.
As they entered the house, it was obvious that the only thing on Emily’s mind was relief at being there. She looked around the great room as if she hadn’t been there in months and said, “I don’t think I realized until just now how much I really love this house, especially this room.”
Brian immediately responded, “I like it better with you in it. Come and lie down.” He had made up the couch with a pillow and blanket, knowing she wouldn’t want to spend her days tucked away in a bedroom. She gladly made herself comfortable.
“What about a nice bowl of soup?” he asked.
“I’m really not the least little bit hungry. Maybe later, okay? I just want to lay here and enjoy being with you.”
He crossed the room and sat next to her on the couch. “That’s terribly flattering, but you need to start eating. If you go back for a follow up visit in three days and haven’t gained any weight, I’m going to have some explaining to do. What can I tempt you with? How about some banana ice cream?”
“Maybe later. I think I might just take a nap for a while, would that be too rude, falling asleep on you?”
“No, of course not. I’ll use the time to get caught up on a few things that need doing around here.”
She was soon asleep, and Brian attended to household chores. There was a suitcase full of clothes that he had packed from Emily’s apartment which he unpacked and put away in the drawers in the guest room. It felt strange to be handling her things, as if in touching her intimate apparel he was in some way invading her privacy. There were pretty, delicate things for a pretty, delicate lady.
His reverie was cut short by the sounds coming from the great room, as of someone fumbling with the door. He walked in to the room to find Emily standing by the front door with an odd look on her face. For a moment Brian wondered if she had been sleepwalking, so befuddled did she look when she saw him.
“Did you need something, sweetheart?” he asked.
She shook her head not only as a negative response, but as if to shake away the cloudiness of her mind and make sense of her own actions. “I think there was someone at the door. I’m sure I heard a noise like someone out there.”
Brian crossed to the door and turned the bolt, “You were locking the door instead of unlocking it, that’s why you can’t get it open.” With that, he turned the knob and swung open the door to reveal that no one was there. “Maybe you were having a dream?”
“I wasn’t asleep, I woke up a little while ago and I was sure there was a noise outside.” She seemed emphatic.
“Well, perhaps a squirrel was running across the deck. Anyway, there’s no one there now. Why don’t you go back and lie down, you shouldn’t be up. Next time, you
call me, okay?” He spoke very calmly, very reassuringly.
“I don’t want to be a nuisance.”
“Don’t be silly, you’re not a nuisance. Are you ready for something to eat?”
She didn’t answer his question; she appeared to be lost in thought. In her own mind there was some significance in this episode, but she wasn’t sure exactly why. Going back to the couch, she asked, “There’s nothing in the medicine I’m taking that would cause unusual side effects, is there?”
“No, why do you ask? Is there something unusual going on?”
“I guess not.” She shrugged her shoulders as if to shrug off the whole topic of conversation. “Let’s talk about you for a change. How are you doing these days? You look sort of tired.”
“I’m fine. It’s just been a busy week.” As he spoke, she watched his face carefully. It was a sad thought that occurred to her. “He looks every day of his age for the first time since I’ve known him.”
“Brian, I know it’s been awful for you, and that I’ve made it even worse. I’m really sorry.”
He came and sat on the table next to the couch, resting his chin on his hand and looking her squarely in the eye. “I hope you’re not going to start second guessing yourself about how to express what you feel. Yes, it was hard for me to hear how angry you were, but it was something you needed to get out, and I’m glad you did it. I want to know what you’re feeling every step of the way. If you’re hurt, or scared, or angry, I want to know.
She looked at him closely. “That has to work both ways. There may be times when you’re angry with me about things, when you don’t like something I’m doing, or when you just need to get away from this whole situation. You have to be honest with me, too.”
The need for a healthy dose of honesty between them was not long off. Brian finally succeeded in getting Emily to eat a small meal, and soon it was time for her to go to bed. She was determined to stay on the couch.
Blackberry Winter Page 27