Page 136 of Ten Years and Then…
An hour later, he told a groggy Bianca that the doctor had ordered her to treat him to dinner once she was fully recovered. She wouldn’t remember, and that was fine. He’d be happy to treat her instead, to lobster or anything else she wanted.
All she wanted then was to hold his hand as she fell back asleep, and he was happy to do that, and to fall asleep himself five minutes later, still holding her hand, still smiling. Still knowing that he stood up when he had to, when he hadn’t known if he could before today.
Daniel, March 28
Bianca was sitting up in the bed, the oxygen tube finally out of her nose, and for the first time since he’d come over to her house two days ago, the glint was back in her eyes. All the anesthetic and whatever other drugs they’d given her were out of her system, and his Bee was fully awake.
“God, it hurts, Danny!”
He squeezed her hand. “I know, Bee. I already asked the nurse. You’re going to get Tylenol soon.” She made a face. “Yeah. But they don’t want to give you anything stronger if they can help it. You were pretty out of it, I think maybe they’re right.”
Bianca thought that over, shifting around in the bed trying to make herself less uncomfortable and not really succeeding. “I don’t.”
“Well, maybe this will make you feel better. They said as long as your levels—don’t ask me, I have no idea which levels they mean—anyway, as long as they stay stable you can go home this afternoon.”
And she’d have a surprise when she got there. He’d spent several hours making her place ready for her while she was sleeping off all the medications. She’d come home to a full fridge, clean sheets on the bed, all her laundry done and put away and that disgusting stain on the living room carpet—what the hell had it even been anyway?—gone.
“My mom called while you were gone. I think. Or maybe it was,”—she looked up at the TV mounted in the corner of the room, where a rerun of Growing Pains was playing—“Kirk Cameron’s mom. It’s all kind of fuzzy.”
“If you couldn’t tell the difference between Aunt Carla and Joanna Kerns, they must have had you on some insane painkillers. I’ll call her back later and let her know how you’re doing.”
They lapsed into silence for a little while, holding hands and watching Kirk Cameron get up to whatever stupid scheme he was trying to put over on his parents. After the second commercial, or maybe the third, she gave his hand a hard squeeze.
“You saved my life, Danny. How did you know?” She closed her eyes, trying to recall something. “I remember—I told you to come when you got off work, but you came right away. How did you know?”
Daniel shook his head. Sometimes—not often, but every once in a while, she could be incredibly dense. “How long have we known each other, Bee? I have never heard you how you were on the phone. I was—you know what, I was about to say I was terrified, but I wasn’t.” It was only now that he realized there hadn’t been fear, only purpose. “I didn’t have time to be. I just had to get over to you, and that’s all I could think about.”
She pulled herself upright, and with a grunt and a groan she reached out to him. He held out his arms and gingerly embraced her. “I love you, Danny. I just wish she could have seen you in action, too.”
His mind went back, just for a moment, to 1989, before finals week when Nora had been violently ill and he’d been unable to make her take better care of herself. Except that wasn’t really true, was it? No one made Nora Langley do something she didn’t want to do. Not then, not ever.
“Maybe. I don’t know.”
Daniel shook his head. That was garbage. He didn’t lie to Bee. Never had, and not now. “Yes. I wish she could have, too. There’s so much I wish. So much.” And Bee was the only person in the whole world who truly understood that.
But this wasn’t the time or the place. His cousin was the priority, not whatever he still felt for Nora. There would be time enough for his heart when she was home and recuperating properly. “Anyway, moving on. I called your boss and let her know what happened, and that you’ll be out this week and next for sure.” He gave her a mock—mostly mock—disapproving glare. “It took me an hour to find her number in that rat’s nest you call a home office, by the way.” And another two hours to make it presentable by his standards, but there was no need to say that.
Daniel, March 31
Daniel hadn’t been back to his condo in four days, except for a quick trip yesterday to check the mail, dump the now-spoiled milk out of the fridge and grab a change of clothes before returning to Bianca’s place.
Bee was recovering nicely, and not abusing her status as an invalid too much. She still slept a lot, and when she was awake in the daytime she mostly kept to herself so he could get a little work done on his laptop. She occasionally asked what exactly he was doing, and he tried gamely to explain, but it was hard to really make sense of it without taking an hour to give her the background to understand the specific task he happened to be working at.
“Next time, just say you’re trying to keep the planes in the sky and the ATM’s working when the New Year turns over.” She giggled. “Anyway, I’d trust you with all that.”
“Nothing’s going to happen on January 1st. It’s all a big panic over nothing,” he said. He’d told his parents the same thing, and Lisa, and anyone else who would listen. He wasn’t sure they believed him, but all he could do was tell them what he knew. And if they wanted to worry about something that wasn’t real and that they couldn’t do anything about anyway, even if it was, that was on them.
Bee patted the sofa, and he sat next to her. “Let’s talk about something that is real, then. I’ve let it go all week, but it’s time, Danny.”
If it was anyone else, he’d have gotten right up off the sofa, maybe even walked out the door. But it wasn’t anyone else. It was the one person who had the right to say anything to him, and he’d not just listen but believe.
No. There was one other person, besides Bee. And that’s who his cousin wanted to talk about.
“I’ve always loved you, Danny. Always. And I’ve been thinking a lot this week.” She shook her head. “Not like there’s been much else I could do. I mean, aside from Days of Our Lives—did you know Marlena’s still alive? I thought she died years ago.”
“Bee.”
“Yeah. Right. Anyway. I’ve been thinking a lot. And you probably know this, but I love you more than anybody else.” She was looking at him, into him, the way only she—and Nora—ever could. “It’s not like I sit here and keep score of which relatives I care about more, but if I did, you’d be number one. And you know why? I just figured it out.”
