The Proposal

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The Proposal Page 62

by R. R. Banks


  "Where are you?" I could hear one of my men shouting through my earpiece.

  I turned my face toward the radio on my shoulder.

  "I'm not sure. First or second floor."

  "Get out of there!"

  I tried to orient myself, but the flames were a surrounding wall now, obliterating any signs of doors or windows. I took a step and heard the sickening snap of the ceiling giving way. It groaned loudly, and I turned my back, feeling it crash down onto me before I could get out of the way.

  "Where are you?"

  I strained against the debris on top of me, but I could barely move. My head dropped to the floor. Maybe this time the fire had won.

  I could hear Gwendolyn's voice. It was close now. I listened harder, trying to understand the words that she was saying. But they seemed to blur so that all I could perceive was just the sound. The longer I listened, the more I realized it was only her voice that I was hearing. I no longer heard the flames or the crackle of the building around me being consumed. I strained to get closer to her, but in an instant, everything was gone again.

  When I heard her voice again it seemed clear. I wanted to open my eyes, but it felt like I had no control over my body. She sounded farther away this time as if she wasn't speaking to me. I listened more closely and finally heard the words.

  "He's going to be all right," she said. "He's going to be fine."

  Darkness settled over me again, but this time it came with more peace. The next time I heard her voice she was close beside me. She was talking in a low whisper now, everything that she was saying coming just to me. I wondered if she was really there or if my mind had just conjured her as it had when I was in the fire, wanting to protect me with thoughts of her.

  "You have to be strong," she whispered. "You have to get through this. Jason needs you. I need you."

  The darkness started coming again and I tried to fight against it. This time I didn't want it to take me. I needed to open my eyes. I needed to see her.

  The next time that I heard a voice it wasn't Gwendolyn.

  "I'm sorry," Jason said. "I know that's not enough. I know that I've caused you so much trouble and disappointed you. We had to leave everything and come all the way out here because of me. I'm sorry."

  I was suddenly aware that it was not just his voice that I can perceive. My body felt warm and my fingers were tingling. I could feel the pressure of his hand rested on mine and I knew that I was coming out of the deep sleep that had been holding me. I didn't know how long I had been there, but I was fighting my way out of it. I knew that this was reality. It wasn't something that my mind was coming up with. I wasn't still lying on the floor in the burning apartment building. I had survived.

  My eyelids felt impossibly heavy as I lifted them, and my eyes burned as air and light touched them. I heard Jason let out a little gasp and his hand tightened on mine.

  "Dad?"

  "Hi, son."

  My throat felt raw and stung as I spoke. The longer that my eyes were open, the more aware of my body I became. I began to feel the aches through my muscles and bones, and the sharp sting of burns and cuts. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw a bag of fluids connected to my arm. Jason started shouting for the doctor and a few seconds later several nurses rushed into the room. I wanted to tell them to calm down, to not fuss over me, but the expressions on their faces told me that this was more serious than anything that I had gone through before. I let them examine me and I tried to listen to everything that they said to each other, catching as many words and references as I could to try to get a full picture of what had happened to me. I hated when this was the way that doctors handled their patients. He was talking about me as if I was still unconscious, as if I was not aware of what was going on, or as if I didn't deserve to know what was happening. I started to feel angry.

  "Please leave me alone," I said.

  The nurses and doctor looked down at me as if startled to hear me speak.

  "We are just checking you over," the doctor said. "We want to make sure that everything looks alright."

  "And you've done that," I said. "Unless there's something specific that you need to do right now, please leave me alone with my son. You can come back later."

  They exchanged glances and then shuffled out of the room, closing the door as they went. Jason came back to the side of my bed and looked down at me. There was a smile on his lips, but it looked nervous as if he didn't fully trust that he could feel relieved or happy.

  "You've been here for three days," he told me. "I was starting to worry that you weren't going to wake up."

  I forced a little laugh.

  "No," I said. "I'm fine. I was just taking a little nap."

  He laughed. Then I saw his face grow serious and concerned again.

  "Dad, I wanted to tell you…"

  I shook my head.

  "Everything's fine," I said. "I'm glad you're here."

  "I am, too. I love you, Dad."

  I smiled.

  "I love you too, buddy."

  There was a sharp knock on the door and when it opened the doctor stepped inside again.

  "I'm sorry," he said, "but I really must insist on a more thorough examination. I need to make sure that your injuries are healing properly."

  I looked up at Jason and nodded.

  "Why don't you go down to the cafeteria and get something to eat," I said. "Did they give you my wallet?"

  "Yeah," he said.

  "Good."

  He walked out of the room and I looked to the doctor. I nodded and closed my eyes, bracing myself for what I knew would be an excruciatingly painful few minutes. When he was finally finished I learned that part of the ceiling had come down on me, but members of my team had come into the building looking for me and were able to get me out. I had sustained cuts and burns, had a broken collarbone, and deep bruising to the bones in my legs and had suffered serious smoke inhalation. But I was alive. That's what mattered.

  Jason still wasn't back by the time that the doctor left, and I realized just how alone I was. I thought about Gwendolyn and felt a knot forming in my chest as I realized that she wasn't there. Hearing her voice had been a construct of my imagination, something for my brain to do to keep itself distracted from the damage to the rest of my body. I was upset and disappointed that she wasn't there, but at the same time, I knew that I could only be angry at myself. The way that I had spoken to her, I couldn't blame her for wanting nothing to do with me.

  During the fire, I had been terrified, but it had given me the opportunity to realize just how much Gwendolyn mattered to me. I knew for certain now the feelings that I had for her went well beyond the immediate desire that I had had for her in the passion that I felt for her. I was falling for her harder than I had ever fallen. Sitting in that cold, empty hospital room, though, I knew that she didn't feel the same way about me. If she did, she would be there with me.

  Jason came back into the room and sat down in a chair at the head of the bed. He was eating his way through a thick sandwich when something occurred to me.

  "What have you been doing for the last three days?" I asked.

  "I went to school yesterday, but mostly I've been here with you."

  "They let you sleep here?"

  "No."

  "So, you've been alone for three days?"

  He shook his head.

  "I've been staying with Miss Martin."

  I felt my heart jump in my chest.

  "Miss Martin?" I asked. "You've been staying with her?"

  He nodded. "I was with her when I found out about the fire. We tried to get to the building, but the police wouldn't let us get close to it. So, she brought me back to her house. She said that I shouldn't be alone. When we found out that you were here, she brought me up here and I've been with her ever since."

  "She's been taking care of you?" I asked.

  "Yeah," he said. "She even got a substitute to cover her classes."

  I looked at him strangely.

&nbs
p; "Why would she do that?"

  He looked at me as if he couldn't believe I didn't know.

  "Because she's been here," he said. "She's been here every day. Even when I went back to school because I had to do the presentation, she stayed here with you."

  "I was lying here in a hospital and you went back to school to do a presentation?" I asked.

  It didn't sound like him, but he nodded with conviction.

  "I didn't want to mess up again. I want you to be proud of me."

  "I am proud of you," I said. "I might not say that to you enough, but I am. And I want you to know that I believe in you completely. I tried to go behind your back and get Miss Martin to give you the extra points on your test."

  "I know."

  "I figured that she probably would have told you."

  He shook his head.

  "She didn't tell me. I heard you. I came to the classroom to take my retest and I heard the two of you."

  "I'm sorry," I said. "I shouldn't have done that. It was really stupid of me. I thought that I was doing the right thing by trying to get her to help you out, but that's not what I should have done. I should have let you handle it on your own and let you prove yourself. Because I know that you can."

  There was a soft knock on the door and when it opened I saw Gwendolyn. I felt a rush of emotion fill me, but I couldn't bring myself to say anything.

  "You're awake," she said.

  "Yeah, he just woke up a little bit ago. I was going to call you."

  She shook her head.

  "That's OK. It's more important that you were here with him. It's getting late, though. We should get you back to the house. You've got to go to school in the morning."

  Jason grabbed a bag that had been tucked under the chair he was sitting in and shoved a few notebooks and books into it from the table behind him.

  "Good night, Dad," he said. "I'll come back tomorrow."

  "Good night, buddy."

  He looked at Gwendolyn.

  "I'm going to go to the drink machine," he said.

  She nodded.

  "I'll be out there in a minute." He walked out of the room and she looked at me. "How are you feeling?" she asked.

  "Like I could run a marathon," I said.

  She laughed, but she didn't realize just how serious I was. I was battered and in pain, but having her there with me made me feel stronger and capable of anything.

  "I was here just a couple of hours ago," she said, "and they didn't know when you were going to wake up. I had to run home and make sure that the kitten was OK."

  "The kitten?" I asked. "You mean the furry ball of terror that tried to flay me?"

  She shook her head. She walked up to the side of the bed and I saw her reach into the large purse that she had hanging over her shoulder. She glanced back toward the door and then back at me.

  "No," she said. "This kitten."

  She pulled her hand up and I saw a tiny white puff in her palm.

  "He survived," I said in surprise.

  I had remembered the little kitten that I had rescued from the room on my last trip into the building, but I tried not to think about him. I couldn't imagine that he would have been able to make it through, especially considering the condition I was in. Gwendolyn brought him up to her face and rubbed him against her cheek before tucking him back into her purse.

  "The way you fell, it created a little cave that protected him. The men who found you found him curled up close to you. Some of his fur got a little singed, but he's perfectly fine. They couldn't find who he belongs to. The manager of the apartment building said that that top apartment was vacant, so he doesn't even know how he got in there. He's been kind of clingy. I think that he's been waiting to make sure that you were OK."

  I smiled.

  "Does he have a name? I asked.

  "The Bishop Fajita Grande. Because he was sizzling when he came to us."

  I laughed.

  "What's with you and these names?" I asked. "The Reverend and now The Bishop?"

  "It's sophisticated," she said. "I hate all of the ridiculous names that people give to their pets. What would you want me to call him? Fluffy?"

  She looked at me indignantly and all I could do was smile.

  "Thank you for taking care of Jason," I finally said.

  "Of course," she said. "You've got a really great kid, you know. You just got to make sure he knows that."

  She headed for the door. I felt words bubbling up inside me, but I couldn't say them. I knew that things needed to be different with her now. I needed to show her that I wanted her, all of her, but I didn't know how. For so long I had struggled with the thought of ever trusting a woman. Now I felt like I couldn't trust myself. I would never want to put her through the relationships that I had already had, and in the back of my mind, I struggled with the fear that there's a possibility that I could ever hurt her.

  Chapter Sixteen

  Gwendolyn

  I sat on a towel on the metal bleachers, leaned back against the uppermost bench looking out over the baseball field. The afternoon was vibrantly sunny, and the spring warmth had finally settled in. My skin was eagerly soaking up the sun, and I closed my eyes and tilted my head back to enjoy a soft breeze that had begun to blow. I heard a loud crack and a cheer rose up from the rest of the people on the bleachers. I lifted my head and saw the batter fling his bat behind him as he took off toward first base. He didn't slow down as he approached, but took a turn and continued on towards second. By the time he was sprinting towards third, I could see his face. Jason was beaming beneath his batting helmet, his expression the purest and most carefree joy that I had ever seen on his face.

  I clapped and saw him glance over at me.

  "He's sure happy that you're here."

  I looked beside me and saw Garrett standing there. His arm was still tethered to his chest to protect his collarbone and he was leaning on one leg as if to take pressure off the one that had been the most bruised, but he was smiling.

  "You're here," I said. "I didn't know that you had gotten discharged."

  "Well, you stopped coming to visit me, so I couldn't have told you."

  "I thought that it was better if you rested and focused on healing," I said.

  The truth was I had wanted more than anything to be there in the hospital with him. I would have spent every moment sitting beside the bed, just watching him to make sure that he was still alright. But he had never asked me to stay and I knew that I needed to get back to work. Jason had continued to stay with me while his father recovered, and he made sure to give me updates on his condition every time he visited the hospital.

  "I feel like I have been in that hospital bed forever," he said. "As soon as the doc said he was going to spring me, I got on the phone with Billy from the station and told him to come get me. I haven't even been home yet. I had him drop me off here so that I could surprise Jason. I haven't been able to watch him play for a long time."

  "He certainly seems to love it," I said. "And you're right, he's incredibly talented."

  Garrett nodded as he watched Jason lean forward, his hands on his thighs as he bobbed back and forth, ready to run for home as soon as he had the opportunity.

  "Thank you," he said.

  "For what?" I asked.

  "For doing this for him. For making sure that he could play."

  I shook my head.

  "I didn't do anything. He did it. He talked to me after everything, and he said that he knew what he needed to be doing and that he needed to get his stuff together. He might have used slightly different words than that, but in the situation, I will go against popular opinion and employ some censorship. We agreed that there were some pretty serious extenuating circumstances in place, circumstances that didn't have anything to do with baseball, and that if he was really serious about buckling down and applying himself, I was willing to let him do the retest and write an extra paper to get his grade up. And I must say, he did spectacularly well. He earned every second t
hat he is out on that field."

  "How is the burrito doing?"

  "Fajita," I corrected. "He's doing fine. He and The Reverend are getting along very well. Maybe you could come over and visit him. We could have dinner."

  My heart was pounding in my chest and butterflies were swarming in my belly as I asked him. Garrett smiled and nodded.

  "I'd like that," he said.

  "Good," I said.

  The people in the bleachers around me jumped to their feet and roared again, and I realized that I had missed something. I stood up and strained to look over the people ahead of me to see the field.

  "Go, go, go!" Garrett cheered from beside me.

  "What happened?" I asked.

  "A double", he said. "Jason scored."

  I clapped and cheered right along with everyone else around me.

  The next night I rushed around my kitchen making dinner, occasionally zipping out to check the living room yet again and make sure that it looked perfect. My nerves spiked when I heard the doorbell and I scolded myself for being so ridiculous. He was just coming over for dinner. This was, by far, the least intimate thing that we had ever done together. It's not like I didn't know him or had never been in the same space with him. Yet I was nervous. I opened the door and Garrett stood there with flowers in his hand. I felt myself blush as I reached for them.

  "Thank you," I said.

  As I took them I realized that there were two bunches. I looked at him strangely and Garrett looked as though he just remembered something.

  "Oh, yes. This one isn't for you," he said.

  He took a group of tea roses from my hand and carried them over to the couch where the cats were curled together in a single small dog bed, completely ignoring the fact that there was another one inches away. He propped the flowers next to the bed and scratched The Bishop on his head.

 

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