The Living Room (9 page)

“I received your message. Have you decided to list the place now?” She was amazed at the improved condition of the house. Her interest now grew with thought of her commission.

“Well, yes.” Daniel showed her to the other room, away from Claire who was noticeably saddened by the visit.

“Listen, Mrs. Lipton, I don’t want to waste your time. The house is for sale, but I am in no rush. Let me know what you can get, and we’ll discuss it then.”

Mrs. Lipton was somewhat confused with the proposal. “So it’s for sale depending on what offers I can find?”

“That’s right.”

“I’ll be in touch then.” She turned to leave, not sure how to proceed with her part of the agreement.

Daniel re-entered the kitchen and could feel the pain Claire tried to hide in her face. “She doesn’t think there’s much of a market right now, but she’s going to keep in touch.”

This only slightly comforted her. She was aware that eventually the house would be sold and Daniel would return to New York.

That evening, much louder coughing than before awakened them. Claire rushed upstairs with a juice mixture to sooth Matthew’s throat. Daniel was worried and wished he could help.

Claire returned to bed, noticeably shaken; she rolled away to herself and fell asleep, leaving Daniel to listen alone.

In the morning, the coughing remained constant. Brenda was at Matthew’s side and called his parents to spend the day. Throughout the house there was a feeling of helplessness and concern over what seemed a pending certainty.

Claire arrived home early again but with a visitor. Dr. Abrams accompanied her to the room. Daniel tried to listen from the kitchen, but curiosity about the conversation details compelled him to make the trek upstairs.

In a room filled with well-wishers, the doctor examined the boy. He touched him mechanically and didn’t crack a smile to comfort the child’s whimpers. “Just drink the juice with these drops, Matthew. It will help your throat.”

He motioned for the parents to join Brenda and him on the stairs for a private discussion. Claire sat on the bed to block the boy’s view. “Maybe tomorrow we can go for another ride in the car,” she suggested, hoping for a smile.

“Definitely,” Daniel agreed. “I have to go into town and could use some company.”

Just then the boy’s parents returned to the room with teary eyes. “Guess what, Matthew? Brenda said your dad and I can stay here with you tonight.”

The news was interesting to Matthew, but it felt like a punch in the stomach for Daniel and Claire. The door closed downstairs. Dr. Abrams had left without saying good-bye.

By late evening, the boy’s throat was hoarse and signs of swelling were evident around his neck. All of the guests remained in the room. Daniel stood near the doorway to the balcony in case he was unable to control his despair and needed to excuse himself.

He was amazed with the parents’ composure and listened to the father talking to his son, assuring him that everything was going to be okay.

Daniel wondered where the father’s strength came from and hoped to one day be half the man that this one was. Claire walked gently over to Daniel and whispered to him, “I’m going to bed now. I think we should give them some time alone.”

Daniel nodded in agreement and suggested that he’d meet her downstairs soon.

“We’ll be right downstairs if you need more juice or anything,” she said to the parents.

The mother acknowledged her with a smile but felt little comfort in the offer.

“I’ll be right down, dear,” Daniel mumbled. He went through the door to take a moment on the balcony and gather his strength. He wanted to say something kind to Matthew but didn’t want the boy to hear the weakness in his voice.

While outside, he simply stared into the sky, hoping to catch his breath and realize the best words to leave the boy with. Tears flowed, and he bowed his head in his arms.

When his face lifted again to the sky, he spoke softly. He quickly focused on the brightest star he could find. He hadn’t prayed since his parents’ death and struggled for the appropriate words. He prayed for strength and a miracle and expressed the guilt he had felt since Isabelle’s passing.

“Please, God, help this boy, and take from me as you wish. I’ve had too many blessings for myself, and I won’t tell anyone what you’ve done.”

Daniel’s head once again dropped to his hands as he wept. He continued to repeat the prayer until it became an unending, unspoken mantra from deep inside his body. He was caught up in the moment alone and, while wiping his cheeks, he failed to notice what seemed like a twinkle in the night sky.

Gathering his composure, he entered the room and walked to the bedside. “Hang in there, buddy. We’re going for a drive to town tomorrow.”

Matthew opened his eyes and smiled with all his strength for Daniel.

As Daniel took his arm, Matthew’s eyes appeared to roll back, although only for a moment, and his smile suddenly grew stronger.

Daniel left the room and arrived at his own bedside to find Claire asleep. He wiped the drying tears from her face and turned down the lights.

Chapter 10

Daniel and Claire were awakened and both surprised by discussions coming through the vent from upstairs. It was Matthew’s voice: “Do you want to come for a drive with us today, Dad?”

“Well, sure. That’s quite a car Mr. Clay has.”

“You can call him Daniel, Dad. Everyone else does.”

Daniel rushed up the stairs with Claire close behind.

“Good morning, everybody.” It was obvious that the parents hadn’t slept much. Matthew, however, was in much better spirits. His cheeks were flushed and the swelling around his neck from the night before was noticeably absent. He sat up smiling and showed no strain in his voice when he spoke.

“I’ll put on some tea,” offered Claire. She excused herself from the room and went downstairs. Once there, she picked up the phone to call Dr. Abrams.

Daniel assured Matthew they would be taking the drive this morning and extended the offer to both parents. The toy store might be a second stop on the journey today; the first would be the hospital for an examination.

Daniel came downstairs and whispered his intentions about the drive to Claire while she spoke on the phone.

“Yes, Doctor. We will bring him there. I think you should see him right away.”

Careful not to cause any alarm or show premature excitement over Matthew’s appearance, the couple swiftly got themselves ready for the trip. They asked the family to join them in the bright red, topless chariot.

At the hospital, the doctor began a simple examination but quickly reached for instruments he could use for a more detailed analysis. The adults waited in the lobby, refusing to speculate with false hope.

Dr. Abrams returned and addressed the eagerly waiting participants. “It’s obviously too soon to hypothesize anything. I don’t want
any
of you to get your hopes up, but I’m ordering some more tests. Actual signs of remission would take weeks or even months to show. It may just be the drops in his juice and the extra rest. I’ll share my opinion after the results, but for now, I’d like to keep him here for observation.”

Claire held hands with both parents and repeated the doctor’s explanation and remarks in more detail and in a language they could understand.

Daniel had understood him fine and stepped back from the conversation. He sat in the corner of the room and stared at the few pictures on the wall. He had been in this room a few times now but never had the time or interest to notice the wall ornaments before.

One picture was a child’s painting of the moon shining brightly over water. It reminded him of his own view at the house. He thought about his moment on the porch last night, praying alone.

Once Claire had finished reassuring the parents that their boy was in good hands with Dr. Abrams, and that her colleague Brenda would be sitting with Matthew throughout the day for company, they joined Daniel for a ride back to the house to get their own transportation.

They accepted the invitation for a brief visit and cup of tea inside around the kitchen table.

“He did seem good this morning, didn’t he?” Hope tinged the father’s voice, as he took his wife’s hand.

“Do you think it’s just the drops in his juice?”

“They’re meant to soothe his throat, so I’m not sure,” Claire replied. “I think it’s best to just wait for the doctor’s assessment after the tests are run.”

Claire wanted to be optimistic, but she’d been in the hospital for years now. She had seen all the good and bad days of her patients, commonly alternating without any identifiable cause.

“What do you think, Mr. Clay?” the father asked more out of conversation, assuming correctly that Daniel wasn’t in the medical profession.

“I really don’t know. But he did seem to be really good, didn’t he?”

They finished their tea and excused themselves from the table. Hope and concern rode with them now as they drove their own vehicle back to the hospital to wait for answers. They lived day by day, a compulsory method of survival with the cards they were dealt.

Claire took Daniel by the hand and led him back to the table for further discussion. She was focused on the parents and now wanted to make sure that his questions were addressed.

“Well, that was quite a morning. Is this how things go at the hospital some days? It’s nice to know there are some good days for you, too,” Daniel remarked.

Claire just smiled. There hadn’t been too many good days over the years. She had learned to take joy in caring for the children, not in the results. It was time to have a more personal conversation, about herself.

“Do you believe in miracles, Daniel?”

“You mean like remission? I’ve heard of it before, but I can’t say I understand it medically, or have had anyone close to me experience it.”

“Well, it can’t always be explained, and it’s usually expected that the condition will return at some point in the future. One just never knows.” This wasn’t the subject she had attempted to initiate, but it would be easier to discuss without questions.

“There is something I want to tell you, Daniel, about me, and it’s one of the reasons I chose pediatrics for a career.” She stood and walked to the counter for the kettle and poured them both another cup, before returning to her seat to continue.

“When I was younger, before I was even old enough to think about marriage and family, I was diagnosed with a condition called endometriosis. It’s not all that rare in women, really, and I remember thinking at first that it was just menstrual pains, and they would just be a once-in-a-while type of thing. I had a minor surgery to remove a growth, which helped relieve some of the more intense pains.”

Daniel listened and understood her words but could mostly only hear his own heart beating through his eardrum. He anticipated worse news to follow.

After sipping her tea, she continued, “Anyway, I became interested in medicine after the whole ordeal. At first, it was because the physical pains made me want to find a cure for myself.”

She cracked a smile, thinking of her innocence and idealism in those days. The smile left quickly. “But I decided on caring for children, after the doctor told me my condition would most likely keep me from having any of my own.”

Daniel watched as she tapped her finger on the cup, as if waiting for his rejection. For Claire, her condition was something that stuck out like a sharp tack in her mind when she thought about potential life partners. It made her feel less desirable to men. Who would want her, knowing up front that a family wasn’t in their future?

Daniel’s main concern was her health. His impulse now was to comfort her, as her sorrow was painfully apparent in her face.

“I believe in miracles, Daniel. I’ve had to since the moment the doctor gave me that news. It may be my only hope for a family one day.”

Daniel slid his chair around the table, right next to her, facing her. He didn’t care about the disclosure in the way she had feared. He was thinking about her, this moment in time only, and didn’t have to say much to demonstrate that to her. He put his palms on either side of her face and stared straight into her eyes for an extended pause so that she could understand his feelings: “I believe in miracles too.”

He pressed his lips to hers even more passionately than he had done when they had kissed for the first time.

The next day, Claire brought and heated broth soup. Sitting in the kitchen, the couple discussed unimportant details about the yard and ideas for possible landscaping that they could manage together. The ringing of the phone interrupted them.

Daniel sprang from his chair. “Yes, hello?”

“She’s right here.” He handed Claire the phone and stood by closely, having recognized the man’s voice.

“This is Claire. Yes, Doctor. I see. Thank you for the call, Doctor. I’ll see you tomorrow.” She hung up the phone.

“He’s going home tomorrow. Dr. Abrams said he can’t explain it yet, but all the tests came back showing healthy cells.”

Daniel embraced her then gazed over her shoulder at the staircase leading upward and the light that shone down the hallway. It was bright but peaceful. His mind wandered for a moment—to the room, the child, and the prayer.

The loud commotion outside during dinner the next evening sounded like a backfire. Daniel knew who it was. Matthew and his parents had come for his things and to thank Claire and Daniel for the care.

Matthew had improved a lot. The lump on his neck had totally disappeared.

“We won’t keep you,” the father said. “We just wanted to thank you in person for all your care given to our son.”

Daniel took the boy for another visit to his Mustang, while Claire escorted the parents upstairs to pick up his things from the room.

“I’m putting my model on my bedroom windowsill, so I can pretend I’m driving in the wind when it’s open,” Matthew said proudly.

For amusement, Daniel offered the driver seat to him and reached into the glove box for some paperwork.

“I’ll be right back. I’m going to give your parents a hand.”

He met the father coming down the stairs. “Can I talk to you for a second? I just need you to sign here.” He pointed to the documents in his hand.

Mistaking the paperwork for an invoice, Matthew’s father was puzzled, then embarrassed. “I’m sorry Mr. Clay; I understood that the hospital was paying all of the charges.”

Daniel quickly realized the misunderstanding. “No, no, I mean, yes, there is no cost to you. I just need a signature here.”

Matthew’s father had never read a contract before and, still feeling caught off guard, signed without a glance.

“And there you go, sir.” Daniel handed him the key chain.

“What’s this about?”

“You’re going to need those. To drive home your convertible.”

Claire and Judy entered the room at that moment and everyone but Daniel appeared confused.

“Oh, Mr. Clay, I can’t—”

Daniel interrupted, “Yes, you can. I’ve seen you drive already,” he joked, patting the father on the shoulder. “I can’t take it back to the States, and I would really like Matthew to have it one day.”

Judy recognized that her husband was in pleasant shock. She hugged Daniel, then her shaking husband.

“We can’t thank either of you enough.”

Claire and Daniel watched as the three drove off, with Matthew in the middle holding his windmill. She couldn’t think of any words to express to him what she saw in such a generous gesture. But she would show him later when the opportunity would surely present itself.

They retired inside and Claire prepared another meal, while Daniel headed upstairs for a final cleaning of the room. He sat on the bed to stare out the glass into the sky. He replayed the prayer and the wishes he had made. He smiled at himself in the faint reflection off the glass and headed down to join Claire for a wonderful night alone.

The next day when Claire was at work, he sat on a stool outside, doing some touch-up painting to the trim around the windows. It was a little colder this morning, but he dressed as though it were another scorcher. His sense of temperature was quickly lost in the overwhelming fumes of the paint, which were so thick he could almost taste them.

He came inside for a nap on the couch. His dreams of the children made him wonder if he could have done something to help the others, or if the recent event was just his imagination covering for a true miracle of the human body and medicine.

When Claire arrived home and put on some music, she took him from the couch to the center of the room. They danced slowly. It was playful but also romantic. They discussed the colder weather, her workday, and his labor on the house.

The next song was a little faster and they sped up their steps in comical fashion. Daniel was never much of a dancer. Claire’s experience in ballet didn’t show much in her attempts to keep up with his high-kicking antics. They laughed and teased each other about their coordination, until Daniel sneezed and struggled to catch his breath, wishing now that he had worn heavier clothing while outside. Lucky for him, there was a nurse in the house.

“Sounds like the beginning of a cold, my dear. Why don’t you lie down in bed, and I’ll make you some tea.”

“No, I’m fine. I just need to sweat it out,” he said with a wink and swept her up in his arms, carrying her to the bedroom.

By morning, a fever had struck. Claire offered to spend the day at home with him.

“Don’t worry, I’m just working inside today,” he assured her.

The phone rang and Claire offered to get it, allowing him to stay in bed.

“Hello, Mr. Clay’s residence.” She spoke as a formal and aged butler would, while smiling toward him in bed.

“Oh, good morning, Brenda. I was just heading in. I see. Well Daniel’s a little sick. Yes, I understand, let me…” She wondered how to ask.

“I’m fine. Tell them to come on out.”

“Yes, that’s fine then, Brenda. Come on over, and I’ll see you tonight. Oh and could you bring some syrup for me? Little Danny’s got a cold.”

She hung up and walked over to his side, sitting as close as she could. Taking his once damaged hand and kissing his tiny scar, she was overcome with her love for him.

“I’m so glad you’re bad with a hammer.” She left him with a kiss and headed out the door to work.

Alone and free to succumb to his fever, Daniel felt his forehead. It wasn’t as hot to the touch as he had expected, but his whole body was sweltering from within. He ran a cool bath and hoped it would offset his discomfort.

He sat in the bath and dreamed about his good fortune in meeting Claire. He laughed inside about her hammering comment and wishing it hadn’t taken such an embarrassing and painful incident to bring about their chance encounter. Nonetheless, he was grateful and allowed himself to fantasize about their introduction while he let the cool water soothe him.

The door opened and he heard voices as someone entered the house.

“Hello?” he cried out from the tub.

“Yes, Daniel. It’s Brenda, and I’ve got a friend with me.”

He knew without question this was more than a friend. He would have company upstairs for the night.

Once dressed, he headed for the kitchen to make some breakfast.