"Is she going to be okay?" My voice wobbled a little, betraying the tears I tried so hard to keep in.
The doctor standing on the opposite side of Mrs. N's bed was an older gentleman, handsome in a distinguished way, if not a little tired-looking. His smile was bland yet sympathetic.
"We really have no way of knowing until Mrs. Nichol wakes up, but her brain function appears to be normal, so we're hopeful she can make a full recovery."
Joe's hand on my back was a silent, steadying presence. If it wasn't for him I think I would have curled up on the floor and sobbed. Staring down at Mrs. N lying so still in her hospital bed was the hardest thing I'd ever had to do. She looked so small and frail that it broke my heart.
"Then I guess we just have to wait," I said as I tried to muster up a little confidence. Joe patted my back in silent support.
The doctor smiled again. "Time will tell Ms. Barnes, but from what I understand Mrs. Nichol is a feisty lady, so if anyone can pull through a stroke, mild or otherwise, it'll be her."
"Thank you," I whispered past the lump in my throat. The doctor nodded and excused himself, leaving Joe and I alone with Mrs. N. Her granddaughters were sitting out in the waiting room. They'd had a long night at the hospital and Joe had agreed to take them home when he and I were done with our visit.
My composure balanced on a razor-thin edge. I took a few deep, shaky breaths. Joe moved to put his arm around me. He rested his cheek against the top of my head.
"It's okay to cry," he said in a gentle, low voice.
I bit my lip hard. The pain helped to keep me from losing it.
"Rhiannon Barnes does
not
cry," I reminded him and myself. "Besides, Mrs. N would hate it and I'm sure the granddaughters have been blubbering over her for hours."
Joe chuckled softly and kissed the top of my head. "I'm sure they have. And I've seen you cry before, darlin', so you're not foolin' anyone. Don't worry, I won't tell."
I elbowed him in the ribs but he didn't even flinch. "You're not helping," I muttered.
He hugged me hard. "Do you wanna stay here while I take the girls home? I can come back for you later."
I hesitated for a moment. I hated hospitals and the urge to run away danced in the back of my mind, but strong was the fear of leaving Mrs. N alone. I nodded.
Joe pulled a nearby chair closer to the bed then kissed me softly.
"I'll be back," he promised.
I sank gratefully into the chair and watched his broad, strong back as he retreated towards the door. He shot a reassuring smile over his shoulder and closed the door quietly behind him.
It took me a minute to get up the nerve to look at Mrs. N again. She was so pale and still it was eerie. Only the constant beeping rhythm of the heart-rate monitor and the barely visible rise and fall of her chest as she took slow, shallow breaths gave any indication that she was still alive.
I took her hand, and careful of the IV, held it in my own. Her skin was cool and dry, paper-thin and soft. They were hands I'd seen busy at work a million times, whether dancing over the calculator or feeding yards of fabric through the sewing machine. I don't think I'd ever seen them sit still even for a moment.
"Hey," I said shakily. My voice seemed over-loud and alien in the quiet of the room.
"You're giving us quite a scare here," I chided. "It's tourist season, you can't be taking a break now. Who's going to sell over-priced designer handbags to rich Torontonians who don't know any better?"
There was nothing I wanted more than for Mrs. N to open her eyes, turn her head, and laugh, but she didn't.
"I really need your advice," I continued. "Joe and I are in a bit of a pickle, as you'd say." I told her all about the events of the previous day, about Joe's fight with his parents, about the Tanner siblings siding with me, about my own anger and helplessness. I talked on and on, hardly pausing, otherwise the room would get too quiet for my comfort. More than an hour passed before I'd said everything I wanted to say.
"I hate shit like this," I reminded her. "I hate not being able to do anything! If I stay, Joe will lose the farm. If I leave..." I swallowed the new lump in my throat. It was hard to even get the words out. "If I leave, I know I'll break Joe's heart and I just can't do that to him. Besides, I
need
him... I think I..." I paused for a moment, stunned by the revelation which crashed into me like a physical blow. My insides turned over and fluttered, as if the life inside them agreed with me. I leaned back in the chair and closed my eyes, wrapping my free arm around my abdomen.
"Oh God. I think I love him."
There was a dry, almost inaudible wheeze, and I opened my eyes in surprise to see Mrs. N's baby blue gaze locked on to my own.
"Well of course you do, you ass," she murmured.
"Jesus!" I practically jumped out of the chair in surprise.
Mrs. N gave a soft chuckle.
"Do...do you want me to get the doctor?"
She shook her head a little. "Not yet," she said on an outward breath. "Just you is enough."
My heart skipped a beat. "You're not about to die, are you?"
Mrs. N sent me a disparaging look. "Hell no. Who'd keep you in line?" She spoke each word slower than usual and even as I laughed I noticed how much effort speaking took for her.
I squeezed her fingers gently. "You just take it easy and I'll stay and keep you company."
"Tourist season," she reminded me.
My peal of laughter rang off the walls of the small, sparse hospital room.
"Yes, I know, and the store will survive for one day if you're not there. It's been around for thirty years, it'll last for thirty more."
Mrs. N tried a weak smile. "It's yours now."
"What? The store?" My head whirled.
She gave a faint nod.
"W-what about the girls?" I asked, thinking of her granddaughters. Stephanie, Kelly, and Jessica had always been more dedicated to their jobs than I ever was.
"They know. Have for a while," Mrs. N said. "They agree. I may have opened the store, but you made it great."
"No, no." I shook my head in disbelief. "No, it's your place Mrs. NβI just work there when I feel like it."
She got that stubborn look on her face that I'd seen a million times before and I knew I couldn't continue to argue with her.
"Joe will help you."
"Joe?" I snorted with mock derision. "That man doesn't know shit about fashion."
Mrs. N sighed. "
Support
you," she stressed. "Joe will support you no matter what."
"I know." I realized the truth of the words even as I spoke them.