The room was in complete silence, except for the hissing and bleating of the machines attached to Ian’s finger, and they still didn’t know she was in the room. She instantly felt uncomfortable, like she was invading a moment never meant for human eyes to see. She stood there, holding her breath and trembled. Forced to watch and afraid to be seen.
He was white; white the color of almost transparent blue. His hair was matted in sweat, and he looked as though he’d lost twenty or thirty pounds since the last time she laid eyes on him. He looked so uncomfortable in his body, but his heart was in his eyes, in his smile and they were so happy to be alive.
She just sat there. She perched gently on the edge of the bed, only half her face could be seen. Claire could see her finger slowly inch until it was touching one of his. Her face simply smiled. That smile and slight touch soothed him in the moment it took to breathe.
Finally she reached across the bed and wiped her hand across his forehead. She pushed the soppy hair back in place and he relaxed. His entire body just sighed into place.
She spoke, so softly it was almost silent. “There now.”
He brushed his cheek against her hand before she could take it all away. “I was so ashamed. I couldn’t say anything.”
Her blond curls shifted minutely as she tilted her head. “Ashamed?”
“I thought I was going through withdrawal, all the pain killers I’d been on. I thought the symptoms were…now I feel even more foolish.”
“Sshhh!” She put her finger to his lips as he closed his eyes. “Now we know and it’s being taken care of. No more mood swings, no more pain…just you. That’s all we need again.”
His lips began to tremble. He sat forward and she took him in her arms. Claire, still afraid and shamed to take a breath, watched his body begin to tremble. At first she feared he was crossing over into some kind of diabetic tremor.
Then she heard the sobs, quiet sobs from his shaking body.
She clutched him tighter, closing her eyes and held him as his body wracked against hers, her chest muffling the cries of desperation. She almost couldn’t see her rocking him back and forth, his arms clutching her tight, his heart breaking and his red, heaving face buried in her chest.
He became still. She continued to hold him and he couldn’t let go. She wouldn’t dare let go. Claire knew he’d fall if she did. She leaned against the wall to keep from slipping into floor. She shouldn’t be here. It was too intimate a moment, but if she moved, if a hair fell out of place it would break. It couldn’t break. For once in her life, she knew it couldn’t break.
Ian tried to speak. Saxon couldn’t understand him.
She took her hands and gently pulled his head up to look in his eyes. “What?”
“Make it stop.” He said. “Please. Make it stop.” From her hiding place in plain sight she could see the pain in his eyes, red and puffy, barely hanging on dripping wet white, white cheeks.
“I wish I could.”
Ian sighed, the sigh when a child catches his own breath not sure if more tears are coming or if his little heart isn’t through breaking yet. Saxon looked in his eyes.
Claire watched Saxon look in Ian’s eyes, still holding his head up, and him still holding on to her for dear life. “You can do this. You can.”
He nodded his head slightly. Her voice, in a quiet strength that fed him life, spoke. “In a few short days you are going to be physically strong again. You’ll be able to put one foot in front of the other and not have to worry about what’s going on inside your body, inside your head. You can do this.”
He closed his eyes and swallowed hard. She closed her eyes and put her forehead on his, still gently cradling his head, and his arms still holding her oh so tight. “I will.”
With her eyes closed, she smiled. He began to breathe, not just take a breath, but breathe. The world stood still another moment.
They were hesitant at first but they finally let go of each other. The world didn’t crash as Claire almost believed it would.
Ian relaxed against the bed. Saxon tilted herself back, as though there had never been a need to hold the pieces together. Claire reached behind her for the doorknob, quietly twisting and opening. As soon as she saw Superman, she pulled the door shut again.
“Knock knock.” She said almost timidly. “Do you mind if I pop in long enough to say hello?”
“Claire.” Ian smiled genuinely and reached out his arms to her.
She tried not to cry as Saxon slipped off the bed and stepped back to let her fall into his waiting arms. She closed her eyes to shield the tears, forcing them to fall behind her eyes. She felt the clamminess of his body, but the strength of Ian Justyn’s arms gripped her.
And she gave up.
Claire gave up the dream that she was what Ian needed. It hurt like hell, but she knew that she could never have participated in what she just witnessed and have had the same outcome. She then had the push herself away from him or someone would have to hold the pieces that were left of her together.
“Ronnie will be right in.”
“Is he alright?” Ian asked as he leaned back on his bed, but held on to her hand.
“He’s fine. A little excited.”
Saxon tapped on the bed. “I’ll slip on out and let him come in.”
Claire gently grabbed her forearm. “No. You stay. I just slipped in for a moment, just long enough to see for my own eyes that Superman was alive and well and taking up bed space in Metropolis.” Ian tugged her hand to his lips and kissed her fingers. “You look…awful.”
Ian laughed. She loved it when she made him laugh. “I’m sorry I scared you.”
“Don’t apologize to me.” Claire said. “Apologize to poor Rodie. I thought that fur ball was going to have some kind of seizure, racing around the house every little hair standing on end, spitting and clawing. Tippy had to call a vet and get something to calm the damn thing down.”
“Poor varmint.” Ian said. “Tell her I’ll give her a big wave from the other side of the room when I get home.” Concern finally came over his face. “Your mother…Miss Glo…you were on the phone…”
“Stop! Stop…” Claire said. “Mama is fine. She’s pissed at you for trying to drop dead on us…again. We’ll pick her up on Friday night and she’ll be working on some hand gestures for your homecoming this weekend.”
“She’s good then?”
“She’s wonderful.” Claire smiled. “Thank you.” She felt the now familiar uncomfortable, giddy rumble. Involuntarily her hand went to the spot on her belly. “Oh ma God.”
“Claire?” Saxon’s hands went to Claire’s shoulder and when she focused her eyes she saw the concern on Ian’s face.
“Oh not to worry. It just always comes when you least expect it.” Claire took Ian’s hand and put it on her tummy. “Some one just decided they wanted you to know they’re happy you’re fine.”
“Is that…?” Ian’s face filled with wonder as Claire nodded. “Oh my…” Ian’s eyes darted up to meet Claire’s. “It feels like there’s a whole chorus line going on in there.”
“You should feel it from my end.” Claire said. She smiled and looked at Saxon, and felt the bit of unease. Claire reached out, taking Saxon’s hand and placed it next to Ian’s. “Can you feel him?”
Saxon let out a verbal breath.
“Him?” Ian looked at her. “It’s a boy?”
“I…uh…I don’t know.”
“With a kick like that,” Saxon took her hand away. “It’s got to be a boy, or a girl already wearing high heels.”
“That would definitely be Ian’s son and my daughter.” Claire remembered. “Oh…” she reached for her purse. “Look what I have.”
Ian looked at the brightly wrapped package she pulled from her purse. “A gift for me?”
“Yeah.” Claire teased. “You need another silver rattle, moron.” She gently tapped his cheek. “The first real gift for our baby…from their Auntie Kleenex Girl.”
“Stop.” Saxon gave Claire a playful shove.
“Saxon, that is so sweet. Thank you.” Ian grinned.
“Help me open it?” Claire said.
“Uh…” Saxon hesitated. “Look, maybe you should wait. Remember we’re not supposed to get him too excited.”
“Nonsense.” Ian reached for the box and started to rip the paper.
“Ian…” Saxon bit her lip and tried to keep him from opening it. “Ian, Claire…I’m thinking maybe I chose the wrong thing…would you mind…”
“Yes…” Ian looked at her sternly. “Yes, we would mind. As long as there’s not another cat in here unless it’s dead and stuffed, it’s the perfect…” Ian stopped as the lid came off and he folded back the paper.
Claire’s hand went to her chest. “Oh Saxon…” She looked at Saxon as tears slipped down her cheeks. “Oh Saxon, it’s so…prefect.”
Ian tenderly held the hand knitted sweater and cap to his cheek. “How did you…?”
She couldn’t help but wipe the tear from her own cheek. “I wish I could say I made them myself. She did give me her patterns and taught me as best she could.”
“It is hers?” Claire managed to say.
Saxon nodded her head. “I used to send her thingies of yarn…”
“Thingies of yarn?” Ian laughed through his sniffs, treasures still clutched preciously. “You must be a really good knitting student.”
“Stop.” Saxon scolded him. “I’d send her yarn and a check and she’d whip up a masterpiece and send it back. I’ve stock piled them. It’s a gift I always give to all my dearest that are expecting babies.”
Claire took Saxon in her arms. “Thank you, Saxon. I never dreamed I’d have something from Miss Hilary’s hands for the baby. It was something I was going to miss dearly. Thank you.”
“Hey!” Ian horned in as best he could. “My turn!”
“Ooh! Booties, too!” Claire said and grabbed them as an excuse to get out of the way. When the hug got too long and irritating, she playfully slapped at them with the knitwear. “Okay, break it up. The hoards have got to be getting restless.”
“She’s right.” Saxon pushed Ian away and gathered up the papers and box as Claire tucked Ian back comfortably in the bed.
Claire kissed Ian on the forehead, “Now try and not be a bastard for a few days so we can get you home and keep that stupid cat from driving us all crazy pacing the house meowling for you.”
“Thanks for coming.”
“Yeah. Yeah.” Claire took the gift, back neatly in the package and rolled her eyes as Saxon kissed Ian on the puffy nose.
“See you soon.” She said.
“Thank you for the gift.”
Saxon put up her hand. “You’ll make me cry.”
“Oh gag.” Claire tugged on the woman’s shoulder. “Come on. Let’s let him pretend to be weak and at death’s door for someone else.”
They waved to him as they crossed the room. Saxon was the first out and Claire stopped half way, turning back to him. “You have until Saturday,” she pointed at him “Or I’m coming back and kicking your ass…and know I will do it, too.”
“Back tomorrow?” He laughed.
“Whatever.”
She almost lost her balance as Ronnie whizzed past yanking a barely balanced Tippy past her. Claire went directly to Saxon and whispered in her ear. “Can I speak with you alone a moment? I’ve done something and I need your help.”
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