Page 44 of My Heart Before You

Two granddaughters stepped back so that she could stand beside the bed rail nearest Mary’s hand.

She placed her hand over Mary’s cool, paper-thin skin and leaned, speaking in a near whisper. “Thank you for talking to me and all the things you taught me. Your friendship is one that I will cherish always.”

As she straightened, Bo nodded to her once while softly brushing Mary’s curls with his fingers. The second she was out of the room, her patient care aide found her, needing help. She pushed her emotions aside as she was slung back into the busy final hours of her shift.

?Chapter 18?

Like all the other staff, Colin was ushered out of the room while the family said their last goodbyes. The priest was saying a prayer over her bed as the family held hands in concentric circles around her. The staff outside the room watched as the telemetry monitor moved from its incredibly slow rhythm to a sporadic beat before resting in a long, solid line. Barbara leaned into the room to notify the family Mary was gone. They held vigil at her bedside for a long time before Bo came out of the room.

“Thank you, son, for being here. It was nice for there to be friendly faces she knew in the end.” His weathered, wrinkled face was streaked with wet and dried tears.

Colin opened his mouth to offer his heartfelt condolences, but Bo was immediately ensconced by the rest of his family, ushering him down the hall. Bo’s collapsed shoulders disappeared between his daughter’s and granddaughter’s bodies as a sea of strong women pulled him gently along. He watched until the unit doors closed behind them before sitting to finish the death paperwork with Ashley. She wiped a tear from her cheek before flipping the page of the paper document, so he could add his signature in the necessary place.

“Thank you for being so great with them.”

“I loved Mary just as much as everyone here. They actually taught me a lot about love, something I’ve been working on.” Ashley’s red-rimmed eyes stared through the small window from the charting desk into the hospital room at her nurse aides as they started cleaning and preparing Mary’s body for the morgue.

He followed her gaze and watched as the aides gingerly lifted Mary’s frail pale arms and wiped them with soap sudded wash cloths before toweling her dry. Her skin had already taken on the waxy artificial look of the recently deceased. He saw it all the time, the way the body turned from a vital active person into a cavity no longer possessed.

Colin thought about what Ashley had said. The love between Bo and Mary was something of a legend. It was a tangible thing that you witnessed when you walked into the room. You could almost see the invisible line of string constantly connecting the two of them. It hovered over tables and jumped up and out of the way when the young servers flitted around the room, but it was there and present as much as the air in your lungs. He could only imagine that’s what it would have looked like to see his parents grow old together. The thought made his saliva catch in his throat.

He blinked his eyes away from the window. “She will be missed by many.”

“Yes, she will.” Ashley closed the folder cover to the slender paper chart before entering the room to help her aides.

He sat at the computer and finished his charting before slowly walking off the unit. He found himself looking into the nurses’ station and glancing up and down the halls, knowing he was looking for her. She’d stayed after finishing her shift like many of the other nurses and aides did, but now it seemed she’d vanished.

His stomach rumbled on its own accord, and he realized that he hadn’t had lunch between cases earlier. His watch revealed it was a quarter to nine, and he decided to swing by the cafeteria before leaving. After this emotional evening at the end of a long surgical day, all he’d manage was a shower and to pass out in bed once he got home.

The hospital cafeteria was essentially the same as all the others he’d been in. The same expansive room with different congregations of tables and impersonal chairs. The ceiling that he could touch if he decided to raise his arms and push through the pocked ceiling tiles. A curious mix of smells from fried food to the saccharine smell of desserts all mixed with the undeniable aroma of overcooked vegetables. Today the wafting scents of cumin and curry jockeyed for primary position in his nose.

There were a few families scattered around the room, but he did not see Bo, nor his family. In a corner of the room, Emilie sat alone facing the wall hunched over a cup of coffee. He strode straight to her before pausing ten feet behind her table.

Her right hand twisted the cardboard coffee sleeve absently, and her braid leaned toward her left shoulder, which heaved irregularly. He took a few slow steps forward and stood behind her for a moment not knowing how to start or if he should even be here after she’d so obviously avoided him for weeks.

If she sensed his presence, she didn’t betray it; she just continued moving her hand slowly while mutely crying to herself. His forearms twitched as he ran his hand through his hair.

He couldn’t see her like this and do nothing.

Taking one final step closer so that he was directly behind her, he tentatively placed his hand on her shoulder.

“Emilie?”

She didn’t turn around or look at him. Her right hand stilled while the left one moved achingly slow until it covered his at her shoulder. The scent of her shampoo drifted up ever so slightly when she tilted her head towards their overlapping hands.

His whole body responded to the soft touch of her hand over his and the sorrowful dip of her head. Electricity bolted through him as every single infinitesimal cell in his body quickly communicated the signal to the adjacent cell with nanosecond speed. Synapses opened and closed over and over until it settled in his chest with a twisting ache.

Standing behind her was torture. He hastily grabbed the chair next to her with his free hand and pulled it to sit diagonally to her. Surprisingly, she leaned over and let her body slump onto his. Wrapping his arms tightly around her frame, he tucked his chin to the crown of her head. Emilie nestled into his chest and placed a hand unwittingly over his pounding heart.

Her uneasy breaths and sobs continued while he silently held her, knowing words were useless at the moment. His only consolation was that she didn’t seem uncomfortable in his arms.

After some length, she calmed and began breathing evenly. The urge to lift her chin, gaze upon her speckled cheeks, and tip her lips to his strongly vibrated through his body. He momentarily flushed with the heat of the image before he chided himself for even thinking of it. She probably wanted nothing to do with him after he was her literal shoulder to cry on.

She’s just distraught. Remember, you touched her and she avoided you. This means nothing.

She stirred in his arms and lifted her hand to wipe her eyes. At the loss of the heat of her hand from his chest, his breath caught. It was as if she had pushed an imprint into him by removing it, like a hand into wet cement. He raised his head and blew out a short, painful breath.

“Colin . . .”

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