Page 115 of Pride, Prejudice, & Pretense

She was standing near the wastebasket thinking about Fitzwilliam when she heard a man clear his throat. "Are you Elizabeth Bennet?"

She paused for a second, the question striking her. First it had been Father Gabriel’s question, and then Collingwood’s question. "Yes, that's me."

"I'm Dr. McTaggart. I'm caring for your mother. Sorry about the night the two of you have had." Lizzy had told the ER staff about the attack on her mother without going into any other explanatory detail. Evidently, word had been carried to Dr. McTaggart.

She nodded, grimly chuckling. "A blacker Black Friday than most."

"Yes, indeed." He gave her a sympathetic look. "I'm happy to tell you that your mother is resting comfortably. She needed a couple of stitches. But she's suffered a severe concussion, so there may be lasting effects. We'll have to worry about post-concussion syndrome, and she may have some dramatic short-term effects: slurred speech, memory loss, phosphenes…"

"Phosphenes?"

"Seeing stars or, more technically, seeing light even without light entering the eye. It could come and go. All the effects could."

"And post-concussion syndrome?"

"Headaches, dizziness, mood shifts?particularly depression?sleep trouble, cognitive deficits. If they do occur, they usually pass after some weeks, maybe a few months."

"Can I see her?"

"Sure, but keep the visit brief. And just roll with whatever she says. If she remembers, fine. If not, play along or tell her a story that won't be too upsetting. You can tell her all that happened later…when she's recovered."

"Thank you, Doctor."

"Follow me." He started walking.

She did not immediately follow. "Do you know anything about the other patient I brought in? Fitzwilliam Darcy?"

"No," he shook his head, "but I'll check on him while you see Mrs. Bennet."

She found her mother sitting up halfway in a bed, her head bandaged. Dark bags hung beneath her eyes. She looked older than Lizzy could ever remember, closer to death.

Maybe that's just the after-effect of the night I've had. Yea, though I walk…Her eyes burned and tears formed, but she was able to wipe them away before her mother turned toward the door.

"Hey, Mom." She pulled a chair close to the bed and sat down gingerly in it, her whole body aching.

Her mother turned stiffly toward her. "Lizzy, what happened? I went to talk to Father Gabriel and then…I don't know…I can't remember. Why can't I remember?"

"It's okay, Mom," Lizzy responded, her mind working. "You fell in the storeroom and bumped your head. But you're going to be okay."

Her mother nodded in half-understanding. "I've got an awful headache, Lizzy. I guess I drank too much during the big sale. But you know? It was a good day! We made a lot of money and dressed a lot of lovely brides-to-be." She stopped, and then her face showed displeasure. "But where’s Christine? Did she just send me to the hospital and stay at the shop? It’s just like her, to put the business ahead of me. That place only survives because of me…"

"She'll be here in a minute, Mom, and she's very worried about you."

"Are you okay, Lizzy? Did you fall in the storeroom, too? You sat down in that chair like you were hurting. But remember, I'm the one in the hospital bed."

"I remember, Mom. I'm fine, only residual soreness from that accident I had before I came back to Rochester. I'll take some aspirin."

"I still don't understand that accident or how it happened or where."

"Don't worry about it now. We can talk about it when you're feeling better." That was not a conversation she looked forward to.

Mrs. Bennet shook her head sadly, then regretted the movement and frowned in pain. "I don't understand people, Lizzy," she said plaintively. "Why is it that no one cares about what's happening in their lives the way I care about what's happening in mine? It makes me resentful. Where is your aunt?"

"I'll go and see if I can find her," Lizzy said, grasping her mother's hand and rubbing it, sorry for her, for all that had happened…and sorry that her mother was impossible. "You just relax."

In the hallway, Lizzy met Dr. McTaggart, who had been coming to find her. "I've talked to Dr. James?she's been caring for Agent Darcy. He's been cleaned up, and his face has beenstitched. A couple of the wounds were deep, more tears than cuts. She'll find you in the waiting room soon. Another team is working on his hand. His fingers were badly broken."

She nodded. "But will they heal?"

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