Chapter 23

"Sometimes waiting makes the culmination that much sweeter." Lynn Raye Harris, Strangers in the Desert

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Chapter Twenty – Three

Luke had not expected that. He leant against the wall outside of Isabella's room and hung his head in shock. Of all the possible reactions to Isabella learning what had happened, he had never expected that sort of reaction from her.

Isabella was not a hateful person. She was the most cheerful, kind and positive person that he had ever encountered.

Then again, that woman in there had said it herself. Isabella was gone, and he had seen to that. It was his fault.

The hate, the rage, in her eyes would be something that he would never forget. She had truly meant those words. She hated him. Isabella was gone, and the woman that remained was a stranger, and that stranger hated him.

But he loved her still. Perhaps it would be a curse. He was bound to love a woman who hated him for the rest of his life. There was no going around it.

Luke's legs would no longer support him. He slid down the wall and sat down on the floor, pulling his knees up to his chest so that he could rest his head on them. It was then that a few tears that had been welling up escaped.

What he would give for it to be him. How could it be that after everything, he was the one who was healthy? He had been blinded, stabbed, and had survived a dangerous operation. Isabella simply knocked her head and she was gone.

Luke suddenly felt an arm around him. He jerked and was taken aback for a minute, his eyes meeting those with such a familiar brown hue. But they were not Isabella's. They were Annaliese's, and she looked terribly sympathetic.

"Matthew's gone with everyone to the Royal Crescent. He has a school friend who lives there who will be able to offer us temporary lodgings," she informed him quietly. "Jamie is downstairs with Eleanor. He refused to leave without you."

"Did you hear?" he asked her pathetically. "Did he hear?" he then added fearfully. How on earth could he ever explain this to Jamie? How on earth was anyone going to explain Jamie to Isabella?

Annaliese nodded helplessly. "She will come around," she promised him. "It is still such a shock. What happened is not your fault. It is Mary's fault. You were vulnerable and she preyed on you."

Luke knew that Annaliese was talking sense but it was hard to shift the blame from himself when he had been blamed with such conviction by his wife.

Annaliese placed a comforting hand on his forearm. "Doctor Whitney says that once she has regained a little more of her strength then we can take her home. Being around familiar surroundings is bound to help her."

Before Luke could respond, Annaliese's facial expression changed. Her face dropped and she cupped a hand over her mouth. Quicker than anything, she jumped up and burst into a patient room across from Isabella's. Luckily it was empty.

As soon as she saw was she was looking for, Annaliese seized the chamber pot and emptied her stomach into it.

"Are you alright?" gasped Luke, anxiously following her into the patient room.

Annaliese wiped her mouth with a handkerchief and then placed her hands on her hips. "No. Can you not tell anyone about this?"

"Are you ill?" How fortunate it was that they were in a hospital.

"Every day for the last three months," she murmured in reply. "It has not been the right time to tell anyone. Can you promise to keep this a secret?" she implored.

"Tell anyone what?" he asked, confused.

Annaliese let out a half-hearted laugh. "I forgot that you were not here for Isabella's experience in the first few months. Matthew and I are going to have another baby," she told him quietly, "but you must not tell anyone, alright? Not even Matthew knows yet. There have been more important things to concentrate on."

Luke could not decide whether or not Annaliese was being serious. What was more important than a baby? He knew that more than anyone. Annaliese could not sacrifice her own health for Isabella's, no matter what was going on. Isabella was his responsibility. Annaliese needed to look after herself.

"Congratulations," he said, managing a small smile despite the circumstances.

Annaliese returned the smiled and placed a hand on her stomach. "Thank you. But I mean it, not a word!"

"You need to go home, Annaliese," Luke said seriously. "You have taken care of Isabella for far too long." Annaliese had been taking care of Isabella her whole life. She had been taken care of everything her whole life. "Go with Eleanor to Royal Crescent and Jamie and I will stay here." Luke would have to find a way to explain this to him. But how could he possibly tell a three year old that his mother had no idea who he was?

"But do you not need me to –"

"No," he interrupted. "I will take care of things." And he would. There would be no more weeping or feeling sorry for himself. This was his mess and he needed to be the one to clean it up. He needed to be a man and take accountability for his actions. He would take whatever Isabella threw at him because he had meant the words he had said on his wedding day.

For better or worse.

Isabella had said them too, even if she did not remember. Luke would help her to remember.

Luke sent Isabella and Eleanor off in a carriage headed to Royal Crescent and he held Jamie in one arm.

Luke sat down with Jamie on the front steps of the hospital. Jamie leant in and whispered, "Now that Aunt Annaliese is gone, can I got upstairs and see Mama?"

Luke chuckled. Annaliese ran a tight ship. "You will see Mama in time." Luke positioned Jamie on his lap so that he was facing him. "In fact, we ought to talk about Mama."

Jamie listened, eager to hear about his mother.

How would he say this so as not to frighten a three year old? "A few months ago, Mama had an accident," he began.

"Did she eat too much pudding?" Jamie asked, concerned.

Luke wished. "No, it was a little more serious than that. Mama bumped her head."

Jamie reached up and touched his own head as he furrowed his brow.

"Mama was ill for a while, but she is a lot better now," he continued, catching Jamie's hand and holding it in his. Luke wondered if he would ever get used to the gaze of a child who saw the world in him. Jamie could not understand how Luke had let him down and he prayed Jamie never would. "But Mama is having a little trouble remembering things."

"What's renembring?" Jamie asked, stumbling over the word.

"Remembering," Luke corrected, "is when you can think of every good thing that has happened to you. Can you remember what your favourite game is to play?"

"Trains," Jamie responded instantly. "Mama cannot renember trains?"

Luke shook his head. "No, she cannot. She has forgotten about your trains. Mama is also having a little trouble remembering us, as well."

Jamie appeared puzzled. "Will Mama renember tomorrow?" he asked hopefully.

How Luke wanted to say yes. "Do you understand me, Jamie? Mama does not remember us, so it is important for us to be gentle with her." No matter how simply he explained it, there was no way a three year old was going to properly comprehend a brain injury.

"I can show Mama my trains when we go home," Jamie decided, smiling. "Can I go upstairs now?"

First Luke needed to break the news to his wife who hated him with a passion that she had a three year old son that she did not remember. "I will tell you when you can go upstairs, Jamie. Not yet."

Jamie frowned. "You are as mean as Aunt Annaliese."

Luke knew that Jamie did not mean it but he had had quite enough of his family hating him today. It hurt more than surgery.

"Let us get something to eat, and then we must see if we can persuade Doctor Whitney to let us stay in one of the patient rooms. We might have to do some chores to convince him."

Jamie made a face as Luke got to his feet.

***

She had calmed down considerably in the hours since Luke had left her room. She was still seriously upset with what had happened to her, and Luke's part in it, but she was no longer writhing with hate.

She did not regret what she had said. She had a right to be upset. But the look on his face had affected her. Luke really did love her. How must it feel to have the woman you love shout such horrible things?

The nurse came before sundown to check on her and to bring her evening meal. She was instructed to consume every drop of the unidentifiable stew so as to put on the weight she had lost. She was bony. The wedding band on her left hand was very loose.

Once it was dark outside, and everyone had gone to sleep, she inspected her wedding band. She slid the ring up and down her finger, stopping at the nail every time. She did not remove the ring as something told her that was wrong.

At some point in her life, she had consented to the ring being placed there. She felt it disrespectful to her former self to remove it.

She threw back the bedclothes and swung her legs over the side of the bed. She needed to get up and walk around or else she was going to go mad. She stopped herself. Perhaps she already was mad.

She decided to walk over to the little mirror in the room. She had only caught glimpses of her appearance since she had woken up. Her legs were thin and weak, and she used the bed frame to support herself. How long had it been since she had walked?

She walked very carefully towards the mirror, using the varying furniture pieces to support herself. She saw her reflection as she approached and it was the strangest thing she had ever experienced. Well, it was one of the only things she remembered experiencing, but it was still very odd.

A stranger was walking towards her, copying her movements. She had never seen the face before, though when she opened her mouth, so did the reflection.

Just to be sure, when she reached the mirror, she raised her hand and waved. The reflection did the same thing.

She placed her thin hands on her face and inspected it. "Brown eyes," she said. "I have brown eyes." The reflection mimicked her words. Her cheek bones were prominent. She did look too thin. Perhaps she should have asked for another bowl of stew. She had untidy, waist length hair that was a nice blonde colour, although she knew part of her head underneath was shaved. She wondered if she would be prettier once she had eaten a little more. She looked rather grey and lifeless.

At that moment, the door to her bedroom squeaked as it opened.

She spun around to see a little person creeping over the threshold. As soon as he saw her, he beamed. This boy was beaming at her.

"Shh, Papa said I had to wait to see you but I found a train to help you renember, Mama," he said proudly, holding up a little wooden train that looked like it had seen better days.

She sucked in a breath so fast that she started to choke. "Mama?" she managed to say before fainting.

---

I hope everyone had a lovely Thanksgiving!

So my girls played their netball semi-final today. They were down the whole game. At 3/4 time I just asked them "Do you want this?" and I got them to scream "YES!" Pretty sure the whole stadium heard us. My girls shot 10 goals in the last quarter to win by 3. THEY WON! WE ARE INTO THE GRAND FINAL!! Omg I was dying of a heart attack. It was so good. I am so proud of them.

I posted a team picture in our Club's Facebook saying how proud I was of them and how they never let me down and all of their parents started commenting things like "They do it for you, Laura" and I was legitimately weeping. I love those kiddos.

So send happy, winning thoughts my girls' way next Saturday at 10am!! Their first Grand Final. I think it's fate that they're meant to win.

Back in 2004, I played my first grand final with my team. We played a team in the same club (my girls are playing another team in our club). We won our first grand final 11-3. And we were in the same section that my girls are in now. I soooooooo hope they win. They deserve it.

I wish you all could see them play. They are incredible. Just the best little netballers you would ever see. And they're such nice, good kids.

Okay, off to watch Gilmore Girls now. Up to episode 15!

Vote and comment!!