“No, it’s completely safe.”
Claire watched as Terri injected something into her IV. She closed her eyes and allowed the medicine to take effect as Terri walked to the hall and addressed Claire’s entourage.
Blissfully, sleep took her away.
A woman must not depend on the protection of man,
but must be taught to protect herself.
- Susan B. Anthony
Chapter 53
Claire woke to a piercing pain in her head and a throbbing ache in her side. She tried to keep herself still and evaluate the nausea building within. She remembered eating with Tony on Sunday afternoon; had she eaten since? There couldn’t be anything in her empty stomach to revolt, yet it was. She hit the nurse call button and peered out the window, attempting to divert her attentions. Her window looked over the roofs of the sprawling hospital and beyond to Stanford’s Medical Campus. Past the campus in the distance, she saw the mountains. The lightening sky and lingering fog told her morning had finally arrived. It was Wednesday and her family and friends had been waiting all night, for multiple nights.
She needed to talk to them. She knew Harry deserved a private discussion; hopefully, the others would agree to a group session. Claire didn’t relish the idea of repeating her story over and over. She turned to the sound of the opening door.
“Hello, Ms. Nichols, I’m Abbey your day nurse.”
“Please, call me Claire.”
“Claire, what can I do for you?”
Claire asked about getting up and out of the bed. After Abbey checked the chart, she assisted Claire to the bathroom. On the way, Claire worried about her reflection. She hadn’t seen herself yet. She knew from Tony’s reaction she looked as bruised as she felt. Steeling herself for the worse, she bravely faced the woman in the mirror.
Walking to and from the bathroom required help. By the time they were done, her tubes were disconnected, she was sponged clean, her teeth brushed, and thankfully, her bladder emptied. Claire would have loved to wash her hair and add makeup to cover the various shades of bruises on her checks and temples, and the deep purple under her left eye. Nevertheless, she felt better.
This was in many ways easier than her accident. Although she tried not to make comparisons, they were staring her in the face: injury to head and ribs. Ironically the injuries ensued by a crazy greedy monster were less than those obtained by the man who claimed to love her. Claire continued to remind herself, Harry stopped Patrick. What would have happened if he hadn’t -- if Tony hadn’t called Harry -- if Phil and security hadn’t come? With her accident, no one stopped Tony. He stopped himself -- eventually. The most monumental difference was internally. Following her accident, Claire lost all desire to continue forward. She remembered a black hole of apathy. She didn’t feel that way now. Despite her battered appearance, Claire’s desire to live was stronger than it had ever been. She saw hope for better tomorrows with every new day.
As Abbey helped Claire back to bed, she handed Claire a folded note. “This is for you. I was supposed to deliver it once you woke.”
Claire took the paper and opened it:
I hope you and our baby are feeling better.
Perhaps you’ll feel up to arguing your destination
following your release.
(I am definitely ready) Claire couldn’t help but smile.
I want to see you.
However, I realize you need to speak to the others and
I don’t want you to overdo. I’m staying nearby.
Call me at the number below when you’re ready
for my visit. I’ll be there in minutes.
Fighting tears, she closed the note. At one time, Tony would never have given her the time and space she needed to deal with her family and friends. Although she wanted to feel his reassuring embrace, at this moment, his absence meant more and filled her heart with reassurance.
“Is there anything else I can get you?” Abbey asked.
“I would love some food. Can I eat?”
“Yes, I’ll get you an order card. You have many people who’ve been patiently waiting. Are you ready for visitors?”
“If Mr. Baldwin is here, would you please ask him to come in?”
Claire’s pulse increased and her stomach twisted. As Harry entered, she saw his clean shirt and freshly shaven face. “You went home?”
He held her hand; the spark she’d seen in his eyes yesterday was gone, the resulting dullness infiltrated his voice, “According to the nurse you didn’t want visitors. She said you were going to sleep. I knew you and the baby were healthy, so I went home.”
“Good, I’m glad you got a good night’s sleep.”
“I went home. I didn’t say I got a good night’s sleep.”
Claire raised her eyebrows.
“Tell me, Claire, what you wanted to tell me Sunday night. It wasn’t that we are having a baby, was it?”
She squeezed his hand. “No. It wasn’t.”