The Moments Beyond

©2008 by: KC

CHAPTER FOUR

Almost a week went by with little change.

She and Johnny took turns, keeping vigil, watching for any change, any improvement.  He slept, nearly most of the time, only waking when he needed to go the loo.  Sometimes he took a little water or tea, most of the time as soon as they had settled him back in bed, he would drift off again.

After a few days, between the children and the chores and caring for him, Betsy was beginning to not know whether she was awake or asleep.  She spent the nights in the bed, not really sleeping but dozing and checking on him every few minutes.  Finally one night, fatigue overcame her and she fell into a deep slumber.

It was still dark when she woke with a start to see Lachlan, wide awake and looking at her.

"Well, hello.  How long have you been up?"

"Dunno.  Just been--lyin' here, looking at you."

Betsy sat up.  "Listen to you.  You've been sleeping for almost a week and the first thing you do is start flirting."

"I try on occasion--" He coughed.

"Are you okay?  Can I get you something?"

"--dry as a nun's nasty," he admitted.

At the blank look on her face, he pointed to his throat.

"Oh!  Right!"

She rose quickly, went around the bed and reached for the big glass ewer on the table,  poured water into a glass and held it to his lips.  Sure enough, where before he could only manage a sip or two, this time he nearly downed half the glass.

"My goodness, you are thirsty.  Want some more?"

He shook his head and settled back against the pillows.

"I can make some tea--"

"--don't think I can stay awake."

"I'll make it anyway.  I like to gamble."

In the kitchen, Betsy hastily put together a pot of tea, retrieved a loaf of bread from the cupboard, sliced two thick pieces and hastily spread them with butter.  When she took the tray back into the bedroom, she was happy to see that not only was he awake, he was sitting up, waiting for her.

"This smells good," he admitted.

"Eat up," she commanded.  "You need some food in your stomach.  I guarantee you'll feel better."

Lachlan needed no more encouragement.  With a little help, he held the cup of tea and took a gulp, then went for the bread and finished one slice in two bites.  He took another sip of tea, then settled back against the pillows, relishing the warmth that was settling in his stomach.

"Aren't you going to finish?"

"Can't--sorry--" His eyes started to close, then, he said, "Shit.  I  have to use the loo."

"Okay," she said, "sit up, take my arm--"

"No--I'm fine, you go to bed now."

"Don't be silly, you can't walk by yourself yet."

"Gotta start sometime."  He began to stand, and gave her a look that made her abandon any protests.  Instead, she stayed behind in the bedroom, watching him limp down the hall, hoping and praying that he wouldn't fall flat on his face, right in front of the baby's room.  What an introduction that would be!

He was gone for several minutes.  Just when she was getting very nervous, he emerged, and slowly made his way back.

"You made it," she said, with forced cheerfulness.

"Yeah.  Big accomplishment, eh?"

"Ssh."  She let him slide back down again and pulled the covers over him.

He said little, but she could tell he was in pain.

"What is it, is it your knee?"

He grimaced and nodded.  Before he could see the irritation in her face, she turned toward the door and said, "Just lie still.  I'll be right back."

Thank God, the water for the tea was still hot.  She grabbed a towel from the basket of laundry still sitting on the counter and poured hot water on it, wrung it out and took it back into the bedroom.  Without a word, she pulled the covers off of his leg, rolled his pants leg up, and wrapped his knee in the steaming cloth.

"There.  That should help.  I think I have some aspirin around, let me look--"

"I was an idiot," he muttered.

"Yes, you were," she replied, matter-of-factly.  "Will you listen to me, next time?"

He sighed, in surrender.  She let it go.

Finally, after one more treatment with the compress,  she could see that he was almost asleep.  She went around to the other side of the bed and crawled in, completely exhausted.  Then she heard him murmur, "-- why?"

"Why, what?" she whispered back.

"Why-- you doing all this?"  When she didn't reply, she heard him mutter, "--gonna sort it out."

She didn't answer but as she fell asleep, her last thought was, Do that… Please?

~*~

Betsy woke up just as the sun was rising, as she usually did.  She glanced over at Lachlan who was still out like a rock.  She wished she had that luxury.

Then she remembered and groaned softly.  Johnny wasn't going to be coming over today.  Something about he and Kate taking Kate's father to the doctor.  He would try to make it over, later, but for the most part, Betsy would have to manage on her own.  At least she had an hour or so more to sleep. She took it.

At six o'clock, sharp, she was up again, this time hearing the cow starting to bellow in the barn, wanting to be milked.  She glanced at Lachlan, seemingly asleep.  Pulling on her heavy robe, she trundled out of the bedroom and made her way outside.

She didn't see him standing at the window, watching her.

~*~

"Cereal," Charlie complained.  "Again?"

"Well, if you'd get up in time to fetch the eggs, maybe you wouldn't have to complain," his mother scolded.  "Your sister's doing her part, you should, too!"

Marion beamed at her.  Charlie played with his food.

"All right, Charlie, if you're not hungry go finish getting ready for school, now, hurry.  And when you get home, I want that basket of eggs.  And you can clean that bedroom of yours, it's a pigsty!"

Charlie burst into tears and ran out of the kitchen.  Betsy turned to Marion.

"Listen--Johnny's not going to be here today, so I'm really going to have my hands full.  I know you've been so good, helping out with your little brother--can I ask another favor?"

"What?" said Marion, suspiciously.

"I was up most of the night with Mr. Curry.  And he's going to need even more attention, now that he's more awake."

The little girl continued to eat, seemingly indifferent.

"...and, I'm going to need to get some rest when the two of you get home from school, so I need you to watch your brothers."

"But, Mom, I have a spelling test tomorrow--I have to study!"

"I'll help you with your homework after dinner--I promise--but I'm going to be looking after the baby and Mr. Curry all day--"

"--why do you have to?" Marion cried, "why can't he go and stay with Johnny, Johnny's his friend--"

"Because," said Betsy, summoning what particles of patience she still had that morning, "I told you.  He's little Lachlan's father.  Don't you want him to have a  Daddy?"

"I don't care.  I never did!"  And with that, Marion took her sack lunch,  grabbed her things and dashed outside to wait for the bus.

Betsy wanted to bury her head on the table and cry, but the sounds from the nursery forced her to keep going.

~*~

Normally, she loved this time: the older children were in school and it was just her and the baby;  he was just now starting to eat cereal, and she would take her time, feeding him, talking and laughing at him as his little face lit up each time the spoon slid into his mouth.  She had forgotten the incredible pleasure babies took with each new experience.  When he was done, she would wipe off most of the excess food from face, hands… everywhere, and would plop him into the playpen in the living room.  Then, she would take a short break and just watch him crawl around and play with his toys.

But, not for the last week or so.  And certainly not this morning.  These days, she would usually try and clean up the kitchen while he was ensconced in the play pen and today she couldn't even do that.  Instead of concentrating on him, all she could see were the pain-filled faces of her older children that she had sent off to school.

Again, she steeled herself.  Betsy put him in the playpen and hurried off.

Lachlan was lying on his back and she thought he was still asleep but his eyes opened when he saw her at the door.

"G' day," he said, quietly.

"Hi," she answered back.  She entered the room and placed a steaming cup of tea beside the bed.  "How did you sleep?  How's that knee?"

"Fine," he said shortly. Before he could protest, she pulled back the covers and studied the very swollen joint unhappily.

If anything, it looked even more red and swollen than it had hours ago.

"Damnit," she muttered, "I wish we had ice.  Ice would take the swelling down--Johnny could bring some from town--but that's not until tomorrow--"

"Johnny?  Has he been here?"

"Only every day.  I don't know what I would have done without him--but he and Kate had to take care of her father, today, so I'm on my own."

"Well, all the more reason to take a break.  C'mon now."  He patted the bed.  "The little darlings are off to school now, aren't they?"

He saw the sudden, small smile on her face. "What?  What'd I say?"

"The 'little darlings.'   That's what you always called them."

His forehead furrowed.  "Did I?"

"Yes," she said, softly.  "You remembered."

After a pause, he said, "Well.  Maybe I did.  Anyway--" he patted the bed.  "Come on, you look fucked."

She gave him an odd look.  "I can guarantee you, I'm not."

"I meant--rooted.  Tired.  Take a lie-down."

She shook her head.  "Can't."

"Why not?"

Betsy finally snapped.  "I can't, all right, I have responsibilities--" She stopped short at the aggrieved look on his face.  His eyes left her and stared straight ahead.

"Just tryin' to help," he muttered.  "I don't like being a burden.."

"Look, you are not a burden!  I am taking care of you because I want to--and--if it makes you feel any better--this is not just about you--"

As if on cue, she heard a sharp little cry from the baby.  Without another word, she disappeared and was back again at the threshold of the door, holding him in her arms.  Unbeknownst to either of them, father and son looked at each other for the first time.

Chapter Five