Matters of the Heart

by Catherine Maiorisi

  Andrea hugged Francine. “You guys are the best. I doubt I can change her mind but I’ll try.”

  They both turned at the sound of Darcy moaning.

  “She’s been like this every night for the last couple of weeks. In an hour or two she’ll be unable to fall back to sleep.”

  “Go to her, Francine.”

  Andrea stood in the doorway where Darcy couldn’t see her. Francine sat on the bed and took Darcy in her arms. “It’s all right, honey, it’s just a bad dream.”

  “Where’s Andrea?”

  “In her room. I’ll get her.”

  “No, don’t wake her.”

  “You agreed I could use my judgment about whether to call her when you’re feeling bad. And, I’m going to do that now.”

  “No, Francine, please don’t. It will only make it worse.” She broke down.

  “Make what worse?” Francine held her. “Talk to me, baby. Nothing is so bad it can’t be fixed.”

  “Please come to live with me, Francine. I can’t have Andrea.”

  Darcy was in pain and she was part of whatever was causing it. The last thing Andrea wanted was to be a source of pain for the woman she loved. As soon as Francine settled Darcy down, she would ask her to wrap things up and move in.

  Later that night, she convinced Francine it would be better for Darcy if she left. They agreed she would call Julie in the morning and tell her Francine would be taking over as of the day after tomorrow. Andrea would work tomorrow day and also take Francine’s night shift. The next morning, Francine and Jennifer would move in and Andrea would move out.

  Andrea spent the night listening to Darcy wake up time after time sobbing or screaming and the murmur of Francine comforting her. From time to time, Andrea dozed but she woke each time Darcy did, feeling her pain and her own pain at the loss of the one she loved. Again.

  Chapter Thirty-Two

  After she showered and dressed the next morning, she and Francine told Darcy the plan they had worked out. Pale and drawn, Darcy looked ready to snap. She didn’t speak, just nodded. After Francine left, Andrea read the note she’d left in the chart:

  She’s been awake since four a.m. She’s killing herself.

  Andrea wrote a note that Francine would see in the morning:

  Francine, call Tori and Elle and tell them what’s happening. They need to intervene, try to figure out what’s going on with her. ASAP.

  “You had a rough night, I hear.” Andrea sat facing Darcy over breakfast. Both their trays contained croissants.

  “I guess.”

  “Hmm, Maria seems to have gotten our breakfast order mixed up. I’m going to call her and ask for cereal and fruit. Would you like some or are you going to eat that?”

  “I’ll eat this.”

  Andrea nodded but walked over to the intercom to ask Maria to send up cereal and fruit for her. While she waited, she watched Darcy pick at her croissant. “Can I convince you to not go back to eating badly?”

  Darcy smirked. “What do you care?”

  Andrea flipped. “What do you mean what do I care? I care a lot and if you can’t see that you’re fucking blind and full of self-pity and whatever bullshit has gotten into you these past few weeks. I can’t stand to see you like this. What can I do? Tell me what you want?” She was so angry, so frustrated.

  “The plan you and Francine worked out is what I want. Francine and Jennifer move in tomorrow morning and you go back to your real life instead of wasting your talents caring for me.” She took a bite of her croissant. “By the way, you really shouldn’t talk to your employer that way.”

  “Go fuck yourself, Darcy.” Andrea walked into her room, leaving the door open and Darcy to her breakfast. She sat in the chair by the window and glanced at the mirror opposite. Darcy was watching her. She picked up a book and read the same paragraph over and over.

  Maria walked into Darcy’s room and kissed her. She glanced at Andrea, then spoke to Darcy. Francine had probably told her. Although their voices were low, she could see that Maria was agitated, talking a lot with her hands. After a few minutes, Maria stormed out shaking her head. Darcy reached for a tissue and dabbed her eyes, then looked in the mirror. Despite her anger, when their eyes connected, Andrea felt the usual jolt.

  When Jennifer arrived, she spoke to Darcy, then moved into the doorway of Andrea’s room. “Andrea, could you come down to the garden in about an hour and a half, to help me with Darcy’s therapy? It will be safer with two of us holding her when she stands.”

  Darcy spoke from the other room. “I’d like her to come now.”

  “Of course.” She took the banana off the tray that Gregg had brought up for her and followed them to the elevator.

  Jennifer had created a therapy area under a tent in the garden with a massage table, weights and other equipment. Now she’d added portable six-foot long parallel bars to help Darcy support herself as she learned to walk again.

  Jennifer started with a half-hour massage then a half-hour of strengthening exercises like leg lifts and marching in a seated position. The three of them barely spoke. After a half-hour of rest, Jennifer encouraged her to use her arms to push herself up as close to standing as she could. They lowered her into the wheelchair, let her rest and then repeated the exercise. Each time they did it, they let Darcy take more of her own weight. After a few times, Jennifer said it was time to rest, but Darcy insisted she could go on. Finally, pale and sweating, she teetered toward Andrea and collapsed into her arms. Andrea held her close, inhaling her sweat laced with her perfume. Except for last night, they hadn’t touched in weeks and she could have held her forever. But Darcy was wheezing so she eased her into the wheelchair. Without giving her an option, she wheeled her to the elevator and with Jennifer’s assistance put her in bed. Darcy watched Andrea move around the room, then drifted off to sleep.

  When Jennifer came back to see how Darcy was doing, Andrea waved her out to the hall. Jennifer’s eyes were huge. “I don’t understand why she’s doing this to you.”

  Andrea hugged Jennifer. “Neither do I, but she is, so all we can do is go on from here. In any case, she’s had more than enough for today. Why don’t you go home? If she asks, I’ll tell her you went home to help Francine get ready for the move.”

  Andrea sat watching Darcy sleep, wondering how they’d come to this place. She knew Francine and Jennifer would take good care of her, but she wanted to be the one beside her as she got back on her feet, and for the rest of their lives. When a sob nearly escaped, she got up and washed her face. Enough wallowing.

  She sat again, and lulled by Darcy’s ragged breathing, dozed off. When she woke, Darcy was staring at her. They gazed at each other for a long time, before Darcy spoke. “Did I do all right, Doctor?” The familiar lopsided grin tugged at Andrea’s heart.

  “You did great, Darcy. It won’t be long before you’re walking. But you need to be careful. Don’t do too much too soon.”

  “Still worried about me despite,” her voice broke, she turned away, “despite everything.”

  “Not despite, Darcy. Because of everything.” Andrea spoke softly, “Darcy, can’t we—”

  “Oh, well, I guess that’s what I pay you the big bucks for, isn’t it Dr. Trapani?” The bitterness and anger were back.

  Andrea tensed. She knew it came out of fear and loss but she hated the cruel part of Darcy. When Carlo brought their lunches, he looked from one to the other. “Everything okay?”

  “Si, zio, everything is peachy. But I’m not hungry so you can take my tray away.”

  “Leave it, Carlo,” Andrea commanded.

  He looked at Andrea and nodded. “I take it later if you don’t finish. I see you later, cara.”

  “You going to eat two lunches?” Darcy’s smirk was mocking. “Stocking up.”

  “No, my dear Ms. Silver. As long as you pay me to take care of you, you will eat. Even if I have to force feed you.”

  “Is that a threat?”

  “A promise. Now, you get
to pick whether you eat in the bed, the recliner, or the wheelchair.” Andrea stood, hands on hips and waited. “If you don’t choose, I will.”

  “Well, well, Mistress Trapani. Do you have a nice nippy leather whip hidden somewhere?”

  “Maybe. Where?”

  “Bed.”

  She raised the hospital bed so Darcy was sitting up, then pushed the bed tray close. “Eat.”

  “Or what? You’ll feed me?”

  “Is that what you’d like?”

  Darcy lifted her shoulders. She looked out the window at the birds swooping to and from the feeders.

  Andrea pushed her own tray aside and scooted closer to the bed. She tucked Darcy’s napkin under her chin and swung the tray over so she could cut the sole. She picked up a forkful and held her breath as she moved it toward Darcy’s mouth.

  Her eyes on the window, Darcy took the food from Andrea and chewed slowly. “I’ll always think of you when I eat something other than steak. On the rare occasion I do, that is.”

  Andrea gave Darcy a sip of iced tea, followed by a forkful of rice. “I gather you’re feeling suicidal.”

  “Does it matter?”

  “Christ, Darcy, of course it matters. You sound like you’ve given up. Tell me what’s going on?”

  Those startling blue orbs focused on Andrea. “No.”

  There was nothing more to be said about that, so Andrea concentrated on feeding her and avoiding her eyes. But when their eyes did accidentally meet, the electricity was still there, and they both seemed to have trouble breathing. She was sure Darcy was in love with her. Maybe she just needed time.

  Darcy ate everything and at the end closed her eyes while Andrea patted her lips. Andrea was tempted to take advantage and kiss her, but she didn’t want to jeopardize the flimsy harmony they’d achieved. Darcy slept again, this time with a small smile on her face. Andrea thought about packing while Darcy slept, but she could do that tonight or tomorrow in about fifteen minutes. She didn’t feel like reading, so after she moved the dishes out to the cart she sat in the chair again watching Darcy sleep. Her sleep today seemed more restful than it had been at night these last couple of weeks.

  Pale, drawn, thin and wretchedly unhappy, Darcy was still beautiful, could still melt her with a smile, turn her on with her eyes and reduce her to jelly with her deep, flirting voice. Despite everything, she still longed to touch Darcy, to make love to her. She’d never felt this deeply about anyone, not even Julie. How could it not be right?

  When Darcy woke, she smiled sweetly. “Would you read to me? Not a romance though, do we have anything else?”

  “Do you want to get out of bed?”

  “No, I’m still tired.”

  “I have a mystery, just a second.” Andrea retrieved the mystery she’d been reading and showed it to Darcy. “Point of Betrayal, the fourth in Ann Roberts’ Ari Adams series. Have you read it?”

  “Looks good.” Her phone rang and Andrea retrieved it for her.

  “Darcy.” She glanced at Andrea. “Yes, she’s here. Not now, Candace, she’s busy. I was going to call you anyway to cancel this evening. The therapy is exhausting and I want to rest. Come for dinner tomorrow.” She hung up.

  “Why didn’t you let me speak to Candace?”

  “It was something about your paychecks being missing. I’ll straighten her out when she comes over tomorrow. Don’t worry, she’ll send the last check to your apartment.”

  “You didn’t answer my question. Why didn’t you let me talk to her?”

  “Because I didn’t want to deal with her shit.”

  “Does she know I’m leaving tomorrow?”

  Darcy closed her eyes. “No.”

  “What about Tori and Elle? The others?”

  “No.”

  “Why, Darcy?” She couldn’t keep the anguish out of her voice. “Why?”

  “It’s easier for me, Andrea. Please try to understand. I know I’m being a bitch but it’s easier for me this way.” Darcy’s voice was so low and so full of pain that Andrea could barely make out what she said.

  Thinking only to comfort her, Andrea took her hand and brought it to her lips. Darcy turned away and began to sob. Andrea slid onto the bed and pulled Darcy into her arms. They cried together, then lay quietly, released somehow. When they heard the elevator grinding slowly up with their dinner, Andrea slipped off the bed and washed both their faces.

  A melancholy tenderness replaced the tension between them. They ate in silence, Darcy feeding herself, but maintaining constant eye contact with Andrea. After dinner, Andrea read aloud but when Darcy started yawning, she helped her undress and put on her pajamas, then wheeled her into the bathroom so she could wash and brush her teeth.

  When Darcy had finished in the bathroom, she handed Andrea the hairbrush. “Would you mind?”

  “Of course not.” Andrea moved behind Darcy, happy to be able to touch her, happy Darcy couldn’t see her crying. She dragged the brushing out as long as she could, then helped Darcy into bed and turned off the lights.

  “Andrea, I know I have no right to ask this, given how I’m treating you, but would you sleep with me tonight? On the bed with me, I mean?”

  Andrea froze. It would be unbearable being so close knowing she was leaving tomorrow, but it was her last chance to have the closeness with Darcy she craved and maybe she would feel okay walking away tomorrow. She went back and forth a few minutes, then admitted to herself that she wanted to do it. “Okay.”

  After washing and changing into pajamas, she climbed on the bed, on top of the blanket. Without the casts, she was able to get close. She rolled to her side, facing Darcy in the dark, trying to figure out where to put her arm when Darcy took her hand, kissed it, then pulled Andrea so she was half-draped over her. She held Andrea’s hand to her heart.

  “Do you want the pendant back?”

  Darcy’s body jerked. “What?”

  “Given the circumstances, I thought—”

  “That was a gift. I hope you’ll wear it always and remember me.”

  “I’ll never forget you, Darcy.”

  She kissed Andrea’s hand again and settled down.

  Andrea was almost asleep when Darcy whispered, “And I’ll always love you, my lovely doctor. Please forgive me.”

  Chapter Thirty-Three

  Andrea woke at six as usual. Darcy had slept through the night with no nightmares. They were face to face with Darcy’s arm holding her close, her face soft, her lips parted slightly, her breathing raspy. She felt a surge of love. It didn’t matter that Darcy had treated her badly these last couple of weeks, she knew the loving Darcy was in there behind whatever was scaring her.

  She must have dozed again because soft kisses on her eyes, her nose, her lips, a hand on her breast, woke her. She groaned and rolled onto Darcy, then realizing what was happening, she pulled back. They couldn’t do this. It wasn’t right. She pushed onto her elbows, met Darcy’s lust-darkened eyes. “No, Darcy, I don’t want this. I can’t. Please stop.”

  Darcy blinked, seeming to come awake. “Sorry, I was dreaming. About you, Andrea.” Then, a jaunty smile. “It was a very nice dream.”

  Andrea rolled off Darcy. When her racing heart stilled, she got out of bed. “Let me help you wash and dress. When Francine gets here, I’ll shower and dress, then pack.”

  Darcy started to cry. Andrea held her again, brushed the hair off her face, and kissed her forehead. “I’m glad you don’t hate me and I’m glad this is hard for you too, but I wish I understood what was going on.”

  “It’s just less painful this way. It will be after, anyway. You’ll see.”

  “I doubt that I’ll see, but I guess I’ll have to wait to find out.” She lifted Darcy’s chin. “We need to get moving.” As she helped Darcy wash the body she’d hope to make love to someday, she chatted to keep both of them from getting maudlin. If they were going to do this, they needed to get on with it.

  They were finishing breakfast when Francine and Jennifer arrived. F
rancine, sensitive to the mood as usual, picked up the connection and the lack of tension in the room. “You two have a nice evening?”

  “Better than expected.” Andrea stood. “I’m going to get ready and pack, then I’ll be out of your hair.” She knew her voice was too chirpy and bright but she wanted to keep it light this morning, to leave with some dignity.

  She moved through her shower, brushed her teeth and dressed in a fog. Darcy loved her, in spite of asking her to leave, she’d said and shown it again last night. Francine had corroborated it. Andrea felt it. Surely this must be a nightmare.

  Checking herself in the mirror as she combed her hair, she realized she’d put on the jeans and green sweater that Darcy admired on her. The emerald pendant nestled just above her cleavage. She thought about changing but everything else was packed and ready to go. Darcy would just have to deal with it, a reminder of what she’s throwing away. She picked up the books she was leaving for Darcy and went to say goodbye.

  “Well, I’ll be off. It’s been wonderful working with you all.” She hugged Jennifer and whispered, “Go easy on her.”

  “And it’s been nice working with you.” Andrea leaned over the recliner, touched Darcy’s face and kissed her lightly on the lips. She spoke softly into Darcy’s ear. “Thank you for a lovely day and evening yesterday, it’s made it a little easier to leave you. Remember, I love you and you’ll always have a special place in my heart.” She straightened. “Walk me out, Francine.”

  In the elevator, she collapsed against the wall. “Oh, God, leaving is hard.”

  “You both look so miserable.”

  Andrea’s eyes filled. “I’m thankful she let me see that my leaving is as hard for her as for me. When she thought I was asleep last night, she said she loved me. But if that’s true, why is she sending me away?”

  “I wish I knew. She seems to be in a lot of pain but can’t or won’t say why.”

  They hugged. “Take care of her, Francine. Her heart sounds bad. Call Julie, maybe she can convince her to have that angiogram.”