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Authors: Becky Lyn Rickman

BOOK: Grimm's Last Fairy Tale
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“Well, aren’t you going to ask?”
“No.”

“Oh, Jacob, sometimes you do infuriate me. You won’t even give me the satisfaction of inquiring about my flash of spontaneity. You do vex me with your typical male ways. I thought you might be different.”

“Oh, dear, I am beginning to take offense, not only for myself, but for the rest of my gender.”
Chilled silence.
He thought that this might be the time to oblige her.
“Tell me, Margaret, what are you up to?”
“I’m glad you asked. We’re going on a picnic.”
“A picnic, is it?”
“Yes, it is a lovely day and since no one even knows I’m coming, it is my prerogative to stop and smell the roses.”
“It certainly is.”

She pulled slowly into the nearest community park and pulled the bags out. She found a nice spot of grass and unloaded the contents and set a lovely impromptu table.

Passers-by whispered when they saw the lovely place settings for two and only one middle-aged lady to share it. They must have thought she had been stood up or pining the loss of a loved one. They had no way of knowing that she was spending time with a man whose stories they had also grown-up with.

“What a lovely idea, Margaret—really lovely. I am more delighted than I could ever express at your new outlook. The fact that you could dream this up on your own, but then carry it out as well and not suppress the idea, is truly a monument to your spirit.”

“Thank you, Jacob. That is about the nicest thing I’ve heard in about an hour.”

Jacob grimaced and Maggie beamed. She felt so much better than she had in such a very long time. More and more she was coming to understand the funk in which she had been existing and what a gloomy, gray-skied, sad sack of a worn-out woman she had become. Things would be different from now on. She wondered what her children would think of the vast changes in her. Surely they would appreciate it, but just as surely they would be confused at the timing—the threat of a premature death and the ensuing battle with a disease known to ravage and deplete a person until they were willing to surrender to that death.

They enjoyed their repast and spent a brief time lying on their backs staring at the white fluffies, trying to assign names to their impressionistic shapes.

As the afternoon threatened to turn to evening, Maggie determined it was time to load up and commence the journey.

Then got on the highway and that’s when the unexpected bump in the road detoured them.

Chapter 16,

in which life takes a turn,

Jacob feels helpless, and a

new man enters Maggie's life

Maggie signaled left to merge into traffic and when she applied the break to ease her way in, a man about her same age in a business suit with a little too much happy hour in him was unable to stop and slammed into her car, buckling the trunk and throwing her into the steering wheel with such force it rendered her unconscious and with difficulty breathing.

Jacob, a man of the utmost bearing, panicked at his inability to do anything to help her. He sat in a surreal stupor watching fellow travelers come to her rescue and to check on the man who had caused this disaster.

He wanted to tell them of her condition and how they must handle her carefully. He wanted to take her in his arms and make the last five minutes go away.

Cell phones were buzzing and sirens blaring. Paramedics took her away and he watched through the ambulance window as good citizens pushed her car to the side of the road awaiting a tow.

What could he do? He was numb, watching the medical professionals do their job with all the equipment he couldn’t begin to grasp. Lights, monitors, rhythmic beeps and alarms, tubes and needles. It was all so overwhelming. He closed his eyes and bargained with God for her immediate safety. This was not on the agenda that he was given.

Hours turned into days and after eight of them, she opened her eyes and his name was the first thing that escaped her lips.
He stood over her and saw tears trickling down her bruised cheeks.
“I’m here, love.”
“Oh, Jacob, what happened?”

Then, before he could answer, several nurses rushed into the room and began to coo at her as if she were an infant and not the strong woman she had become.

“Look who’s up? How are you feeling, lovey? What is your pain score? We’ve called the doctor. He should be here in a few moments. Just hang in there.”

A tapestry of caring phrases and platitudes hung over her bed and clouded her view of her sweetheart.
The doctor entered the room and shushed the nurses away.
“Margaret? I’m Dr. Franklin. How are you doing?”
“I don’t know. I don’t really feel any pain. What happened? How long have I been here? Where am I?”
“You were in a very serious accident. Someone rear-ended you.”
“Yes, I was taking a trip with Jacob?”
“Jacob? I’m sorry, I don’t know who you’re referring to.”
“Jacob. He was with me. We were going to see one of my daughters. All of my children, actually. To tell them.”
“Margaret, there was no one with you. You were alone in the car. What is it that you were you going to tell your children?”
“About the cancer. I have lung cancer.”
“Yes, I can see that from the tests. I wasn’t sure you knew. Do you know who the president is?”
“Yes, it is Barack Obama, why?”
“I’m concerned about the concussion you received. You mentioned a man.”

“Oh, yes, I can see how that might give you concern. It was just a mix-up in my memories. Jacob was an old friend. That was another trip. I’m really fine, I can assure you.”

“All the same, I think we’ll run a scan and just make sure everything’s on par.”

“That really isn’t necessary. I should be getting back on the road soon. How long have I been here? And you never told me where I am.”

“You’re in Springfield, Ohio. Springfield General, to be specific. You’ve been here for eight days.”

“Eight days? How is that possible?”

“You were in a coma. There will still be some tests to run. I’m afraid your traveling days are over for a little while. We need to first make sure you are well and then we need to fortify you. You are physically compromised with your illness. It would be irresponsible for us to turn you loose.”

“I understand. I just need to visit my children and let them know what’s going on with me and then get home and start treatment.”

“I understand as well. Please be patient and let us do what we need to. We won’t keep you any longer than we have to. Do you trust me?”

Trust was something new to Maggie. It was still a little uncomfortable.
“Yes, I trust you.”
“Fine. Now you get some rest. Do you need anything for pain?”
“No, right now I am sore, but nothing I can’t put up with.”

“Well, I’ve prescribed some medication. Don’t let it get out of control before you ask. It’s more difficult to get on top of the pain if you wait until it really hurts.”

“Understood.”
“I’ll check in on you later.”
“Thank you, Dr. Franklin.”
“My pleasure.”
When he had cleared the room, Maggie called out for Jacob again.

“Margaret, I’m right here, but they are watching you on a monitor at the nurse’s station. I don’t think it is wise for you to talk to someone who is not here. It will just prolong the stay and cause more concern.”

Margaret simply nodded so slightly that no one would be the wiser and the tears now flowed without restraint. She was here, alone, and couldn’t even talk to the one person with whom she could talk about anything.

She tried to convince herself that becoming depressed over the circumstance would only impede her recovery and her ability to once again talk freely to Jacob, but the more she thought about it, the more unfair she saw things. Was it not enough that she had cancer? Now she had to be laid up with a terrible and unnecessary accident? What on earth had she ever done to warrant such an insane set of circumstances?

Her thoughts were interrupted by another strange voice.
“Ms. Austen?”
“Who are you?”

“I’m the man who hit you. My name is David Clark. I came to apologize. I hope you can find it in your heart to someday forgive me. I had been drinking with some associates. I shouldn’t have been driving. I am so sorry.”

“Is that what happened?”

“Yes, I’m afraid so. I have never done that before. That is the honest truth. I thought I was in control. I’ve come to ask what I can do to make amends.”

“Look at me, Mr. Clark. What you don’t know is that I have lung cancer. I was on my way to see my children and break the news to them. Now I have to be laid up in the hospital wasting precious days because you chose to drive drunk. Were you even hurt?”

“No, ma’am. That is one of the great injustices of life. I was limber from the effects of the alcohol where as you stiffened up, fully aware of what was happening. I will do whatever I can to help you. I will pay for your treatments. I’m so sorry about the cancer and the delay in your journey. There must be something I can do for you.”

“I’m going to hold off until my mind is clearer before I make any judgments. Why don’t you tell me about yourself and your family before I decide anything?”

“My life is complicated. I’m not sure what it has to do with your decisions, but I’ll indulge you as I owe you that much. My wife left me for her massage therapist. I have three grown children who I see on holidays and not much else. I am an attorney. I live with my mother and help care for her. My nephew, Ronald, also lives with us and my cat, Captain Wentworth. I actually lead a dull . . . “

“I’m sorry, did you say Captain Wentworth? Why on earth would you name a cat that?”

“It’s from Jane Austen.
Persuasion
, actually. Have you heard of it?”

Maggie laughed until she cried from the pain.
“Should I get a doctor?”
“No, no, it will be alright.”
“What did I say?”
“It’s the name of your cat. I have three—Mr. Bingley, Mr. Darcy and Colonel Brandon.”
Her visitor stared at her wide-eyed and without utterance.

Jacob, surveying the whole interaction, was not so amused. He felt something deep inside that was twisting and writhing and causing him a great deal of discomfort.

Maggie caught his eye and winked. Somehow this did not bring relief, but at least she acknowledged his presence.
“Ms. Austen. I never associated the name. Are you related?”
“I can only hope so.”
“This is unreal.”
“You’re not off the hook, Mr. Clark. This is just what we call comic relief.”
“I understand. I am still in debt to you and am at your beck and call.”

“Oh, make no mistake about it. You’re going to pay somehow. It may not be monetary. It may not involve jail time. But you will pay.”

There was less seriousness to her tone, but he understood nonetheless that he must atone for his folly.
“Is there anything right now that I can do?”
“No, just come back and see me tomorrow. Will you do that? By then I will have thought of something.”
“Yes, ma’am. I will be here at 1:00 tomorrow afternoon.”
“You may leave now, please. I need to rest.”
“Yes, of course. Rest well.”
He left, but Jacob knew this was only the beginning of David's presence in their lives.

Maggie awoke from her nap and had to re-orient herself to her location and circumstance. When she remembered, she longed to be able to talk to Jacob.

She scanned the room and saw those eyes she loved. She communicated the best she could and he responded in kind.

Before she knew it, the darkness crept in through the windows and beckoned her to sleep again, which she did willingly, as much as it is possible to sleep with the constant barrage of vital checks and inquiries about her pain level.

She thought of the irony of it all. Hospitals were a place where you were supposed to rest and where you have the absolute least chance of doing so.

Chapter 17,

in which Maggie flirtatiously takes advantage of a situation and finds herself torn between what is true and what might not be, and Jacob is filled to the brim with frustration

The fitful night led to a cranky morning. Maggie was starved despite the fluids she had been given intravenously so far during her confinement. This morning, they brought a tray and she ate the creamy wheat cereal and drank the apple juice with all the relish of a six-course, four-star meal.

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