I See You

“I’m fine. Find someone else to mother.”

Howard clenched his teeth while pondering his next move. He knew she was not fine.

The nausea she ignored as a bug lasted too long to be a ‘bug.’

“Can I get you some chicken soup, maybe some rice?”

Sarah glanced at him, flaring her nostrils as if she were a stallion waiting to bolt out of the gate of the Kentucky Derby.

“What do I have to say to you to get you to leave me alone?”

His eyes were glassy as he glanced at the bed full of tissues. Her clothes were on the floor, and the room was dank from stale air.

“Honey, until you shower, eat some food, and keep it down, I will never leave you alone. What part of ‘in sickness and health’ didn’t you understand?”

From a memory years ago, she recalled standing in front of him, trying to remember the words the preacher was saying to repeat them.

The days spent picking out the perfect dress and how the taffeta felt to the touch all came pouring back.

The man she was irritated with was the one she went to school with, grew up with, and planned a future together.

Her anger was misdirected.

“I don’t want to take all these tests.” She blurted as tears rained on her gown, dripping off her cheeks.

He went over to the curtains, pulling them back to let the sunshine blaze into the room. Shafts of light danced with shadows as the limbs waved as if greeting her.

Winter was past, and the trees were budding as he heard the mockingbird’s shrill tweet just outside the window.

She fussed about the light and was sure to quibble as he slid the window open, allowing a breeze to filter into the room.

“What are you doing?”

“I have allowed you to live like this for two weeks. I don’t know your fear of doctors, but living like this is unhealthy. Please go take a shower and let me freshen up this room. We can talk about the doctors and tests when you get back.”

Her curly blond hair cascaded around her shoulders. Wiping the strings of snot from her face, she stared at him. “God, you’re stubborn,” she said.

“Cookie Face, we’re both stubborn. I love you, now please go do this.”

“If you’re going to wash the sheets, wash this gown, too. It’s my favorite one,” she said, tossing it at him before leaving.

The gossamer gown was like the one she wore on their honeymoon.

Her aggressive behavior and actions were over the top and troubling. He watched her leave, noticing the obvious weight she carried. He made a mental note to get her to the doctor on Monday.

Sarah had a thing about sleeping alone when she wasn’t feeling well.

Stripping the bed, picking up clothes, and removing the used tissues caused dust to swirl around in the sunlight. Knocking sounds from the bathroom door caused by the breeze were normal in spring and fall. Those bumping sounds lifted his spirits, as he felt like a little ‘normal’ was what they needed.

Finding fresh bed linen, he made the bed when ‘normal’ came crashing down. The loud thump in the bathroom caused his heart to flutter.

“Sarah!”

Steam wafted in his face, fogging his glasses as the door opened.

His wife’s body lying in the shower caused his heart to race. A trickle of red made its way to the drain before he shut off the water.

Pulling her out of the shower, he carried her to the bed. The bedsprings reported her body with their usual squeaking sounds.

She had hit her head when she passed out.

Carrying her might not have been possible had Howard not been a weightlifter in college.

Emergency services burst through the door, causing the cat to run for cover.

Sarah was alive but unconscious. More tests would compound those tests she was afraid of.

The hustle and bustle of the ER included many chairs filled with people. A sale seemed in progress, and the town was abuzz with people eager to make the most of it.

“Mr. Grayson, we stapled the wound on her head. When I get the blood work back, I will know more.”

Sarah was not responding to the typical methods of reviving her. She didn’t faint, that much they were sure of.

Beeping monitors played the slow and steady beat of her heart. Hissing from oxygen and other machines was a constant reminder of the sterile environment.

“Mr. Grayson, it’s late; you can do nothing more. Go home,” a nurse said.

She saw his damp cheeks, which she had seen hundreds of times before on other loved ones.

“No, she is deathly afraid of places like this. I need to be here when she wakes up.”

Nurse Hilda tilted her eyebrows comprehendingly, supplying a warm blanket.

The recliner eased back into a familiar position. Hundreds, if not thousands, of people, sat in that very place holding the hand of a loved one. Howard was just one more occupant of that chair. The stories would be abundant if the chair could talk.

Sleeping in the hospital, much less ICU, is next to impossible. Howard was familiar with the routine from his own injuries suffered in Afghanistan. Around midnight, the attending physician walked into the room.

“How long has your wife been a diabetic?”

The raised eyebrows and blank stare told the doctor what he needed to know. “Mr. Grayson, you must have known something wasn’t right. Just looking at her, she must be close to 350 lbs. The paramedics said you carried her to the bed. How did you manage?”

Howard glanced at the hospital bed holding his wife and then at the doctor. “It had to be done, and I did it. Does it matter how?”

He shook his head, making notes on the chart. “Her blood sugar is over 800. She’s in a coma.”

Tears formed in his eyes as he peered at the doctors’ notes. “She’s going to be ok, isn’t she?”

The doctor looked at Sarah and then Howard. “This is in God’s hands, my friend. We are doing everything we can. I would suggest you pray.”

The knot in his stomach formed more rapidly than most times when the two argued. Usually, the argument was about her diet.

After three days of living at the hospital, Howard went home to check on the cat, shower, shave, and eat something other than hospital food. Her bed sheet was on the floor. The paramedics used it to lift her onto the gurney.

A call to the hospital confirmed that there had been no change. “Come back in the morning, Mr. Grayson.”

Laying in their bed, he slept like he hadn’t slept in days. Even after Snickers, the cat, tromped all over him, Howard slept.

Vivid images of his times with her during school and after he returned from overseas flashed through his dreams.

His father asking him why he was messing with that fat girl hurt him more than he would admit. Yes, she was big, so what? He thought. Howard saw her for who she was, not what she looked like.

Sarah was smart, witty, and funny.

After returning from Afghanistan, his scars didn’t dissuade her from marrying him. Rescuing his comrade from the burning Humvee after the roadside bomb flipped it on its side was his last official action in the Marines.

Sarah saw firsthand the carnage of war. Burn victims endure tons of pain, and many don’t make it. She stayed with him until he was out of harm’s way. Now it was his time to return the love.

Visions of their youth played like an old movie. Chasing fireflies, sitting on the back porch making ice cream, or eating fried chicken, it all played out.

“I saw Marilyn making eyes at you,” Sarah said.

They were twelve, and Marilyn was a thin wisp of a girl they knew from church.

“I didn’t notice. Anyway, you and I are here making ice cream, not me and her.”

“Her daddy is rich, and she has nicer clothes than I do. Why aren’t you looking at her?”

“Sarah, I don’t see her. I only see you. Stop doing this.”

A cold, wet nose pressed to him, waking him from the memory. The meow was an invitation to give the cat food.

Snickers was her cat. When she named him after her favorite treat, Howard should have paid attention to her diet way back then.

Rain complicated the drive to the hospital. Accidents kept the ER busy as Howard skirted past the doctors to the ICU. His heart sank when her bed was empty. The shock from when his mother slapped his face for daring to defend his love for Sarah flashed through his mind.

Hilda saw the panic on his face.

“Howard, she woke up. She’s in room C47.”

The news caused a torrent of tears to run down his face. Hilda hugged him. “You’re one in a million, Howard Grayson. Go to her. She asked for you.”

Two nurses were working with her when Howard stepped into the room. Her face lit up as if they focused those beams of sunlight on her.

“I scared you, didn’t I?”

He nodded, unable to speak.

“I’m sorry. I was afraid of something like this. That’s why I didn’t want to have all those tests.”

“You knew, you knew you might be diabetic?”

She nodded, “Mom was. That’s what killed her.”

Howard felt lightheaded at the news.

“If you knew, why did you continue to eat like that?”

She shook her head as he moved the tubes and electronic things out of the way so he could kiss her. The tears from both intermingled with the love they shared.

More nurses came in with a doctor, interrupting their reunion.

“You are one lucky young lady.” The doctor said.

“Because I lived?”

He shook his head. “This man wouldn’t leave your side until we made him leave to take care of himself. You owe it to him to take care of yourself. Your health is your doing.”

They were both wide-eyed at his proclamation.

“But mom was…”

He interrupted her. “Mom was a terrible example, is what she was.

Don’t blame your heredity for your health, not this health.”

“We were all big people Dr…”

“You were big because of your diet, the change in how people live, and the processed food you eat. You shouldn’t eat it if it doesn’t grow from the garden.”

He handed them the cards of doctors, one being a dietician.

“Mr. Grayson, I want you both to see the dietician and do it together. I would wager money that your blood work wouldn’t come back normal either.”

“Yes, sir, and I will check with my doctor.”

“Good. People with high blood sugar like yours rarely live to tell the tale. We are keeping you until your levels are under control.”

He turned to leave as his white coat flared at the bottom with his military style of turning.

The two sat in silence as Howard looked over the menu. “Dr. Hill told them to take care of us. He knew me from the hospital once I returned to the States.”

“He was a doctor in the military?”

Howard nodded. “He was the one that passed on my story about rescuing my friend from the burning Humvee.”

She sat silently, staring at him as he read the menu.

“I don’t get it.”

He glanced at her. “Don’t get what?”

“You’re handsome, brave, smart, and you even had Marilyn, the cheerleader, after you, and you chose me. A fat farmer’s daughter who mistreats you. Why?”

Howard thought for a moment. “Why do you yell at me?”

A tv show from down the hall blasted as she sat silently gazing at him. Her lip quivered before more tears dampened her cheeks.

“You’re like a fairy tale. I don’t deserve you. There are mornings I’m afraid to wake up as you might be gone. I suppose it's my way of making sure you are that blind to not see what I am.”

“If that bed was a little bigger, I would ravage your silly butt.” He smiled as she chuckled.

“Really, even with these tubes and things?”

“Cookie Face, I love you. I never saw Marilynn or any of the other girls. Yes, I knew they figured I would fall for them, but you were the one that captured my heart. Do you remember the silly things we did as kids?”

“Are you talking about the fireflies, the hayloft, or the pond?”

Howard smiled. “All. I never minded the fact that you were a cuddly plus-size. I’m not going anywhere.”

Sarah raised an eyebrow. “Howie, fuss back at me when I mistreat you. I don’t mean to. Where I grew up, that was normal. It was when we didn’t talk or yell you knew someone was mad.”

Holding her hand a little firmer, he stared into her face. “Do you remember those orange panties you had me remove?”

Sarah glanced at him and blushed. “That was a long time ago. What about them?

He smirked, and she knew that smirk. “You still have them, don’t you?”

Howard nodded. “That was the first thing you ever gave me.”

“As I remember, I gave you something else right after that.”

“And then we ate cookies instead of the picnic lunch.”

“I am sorry I ever doubted your love. Maybe if we did more things outside, I could fit back in them one day.”

Howard thought back to when they met. Someone came in to take blood as he sat there silently. Her father liked him and was happy they were a couple, unlike his folks.

Drake, her father, wanted to retire but didn’t want to sell a farm that had been in the family for generations.

“Ok, why don’t we move back to the farm?”

“Move or visit?”

Sarah thought about the fields, long days caring for critters, etc. Then she remembered the lighting bugs in the orchard. Those moments when they filled a jar with blinking bugs were magical.

“Move. A little hard work would do us both good.”

Lying on a blanket by the pond, soaking wet in the cool night air, made those old memories come to life. The cacophony of crickets, frogs, and other nighttime creatures made for a surreal experience, with the moon and lighting bugs as their only witness.

“We can’t do Ripple any longer, but we can still visit the pond if you want me?”

His vision of her blurred with tears. “Of course I want you. I will only ever see you.”