Pictures of You (16 page)
Authors: Barbara Delinsky
Her medicine. If she had accidentally ingested even a small piece of fish, she would need her medicine. A tortured moan escaped from her lips as she realized that the medicine she always carried as a precaution, which she had even brought with her into the mountains, had been crushed and buried under the landslide and would be of no use to her now.
“Roberto! Roberto!” This time she screamed his name, again and again, with every last bit of strength her pain-racked body could gather. Where was he? He would know! That had to be it, she acknowledged hysterically. Fish! She must have eaten fish! She had to get to a doctor! Only too well did she remember the increasingly devastating stomach cramps, the raging fever, the eventual breathing difficulty that accompanied these attacks.
The fever brought with it a dizziness, which fought her as she attempted clumsily to rise from the bed. She had to get help. Someone had to be in the house. Roberto? Maria? Her intention was sidetracked by a suddenly rising nausea; she staggered to the basin on the low table just as the convulsions began, and her badly shaking arms and legs supported her as she lost the contents of her stomach. When the vomiting ceased and she could stand no more, her weakened knees gave way and she sank limply to the floor, grasping her stomach in a fit of renewed pain.
It was here that Maria found her, alerted by her earlier screams. Eva heard the excited babbling in Portuguese before she felt the arms, which gently lifted her to her feet and helped her to the bed. The fever was dulling her sense of purpose; she had to break through.
“Maria, fish ⦠was there any fish in the dinner?” she begged, grabbing Maria's arms and raising panicky eyes to hers. “Fish,” she repeated, “I'm allergic to fish! Please ⦠tell me ⦔ Her voice broke off as even
her fevered brain knew that Maria couldn't understand, and she sank down on the bed, drained by the frantic exertion.
her fevered brain knew that Maria couldn't understand, and she sank down on the bed, drained by the frantic exertion.
Maria's deft hands quickly stripped her sun dress from her and bathed her burning skin. Eva couldn't resist, her limbs were so weakened and her mind so hazy. She passed in and out of a shallow consciousness, at each moment of lucidity calling Roberto's name, pleading with Maria to get him.
Her stomach churned again, and this time Maria held her head as the involuntary convulsions shook her. Patiently, all the while crooning soothing Portuguese words to her, Maria cleaned her and changed her clothes again, this time putting her into one of Roberto's shirts, pulled from the tall dresser. The ashen color of her face, broken only by a few small spots of fever, was as white as the shirt, which swam about her shoulders and fell to her thighs.
Again and again she called his name, only to find that it was Maria's cooling hand on her forehead ⦠Maria, who couldn't understand that she needed something stronger than cold compresses.
Eva didn't hear the door open. She was in a moment of delirium, back in the mountains, in her own Eden. The next spasm of pain brought her around, though, and she opened her fever-glazed eyes to see Roberto standing by the bed. She completely missed the fear in his eyes as he gazed upon her pale and fevered features, so intent was she in conveying the message she was grasping to remember.
“Roberto ⦠help me ⦠Roberto ⦔ she shrieked in a high-pitched tone
Roberto interrupted her, as he sat down and took her hot hand in his. “Shhh ⦠just rest. You need to sleep.” She couldn't make out the look on his face through the blur of tears in her own eyes.
“No, Roberto ⦠fish ⦠I'm allergic to fish. Did we have any fish in the dinner? I only get sick like this when ⦔ she broke off, a new surge of cramping silencing her. She rolled in agony onto her side and tucked her knees up to ease the pain.
Roberto stroked her hair as he turned to say something in Portuguese to Maria. His tone was calm, though grim, when he spoke close to Eva's ear. “Yes, there was a small amount of fish in the stew. What are you supposed to do? You must have some medicine ⦠just tell me and I can get it.”
“I always carry it. It was in my knapsack ⦠buried,” she cried out hysterically. Nothing else needed to be said. Roberto instantly gathered Eva's slim body to him, lifted her from the bed and headed for the door as he called instructions over his shoulder to Maria.
Once in his arms, Eva relinquished the burden of the responsibility to him, knowing that she would trust him to make whatever decisions needed to be made. The wave of consciousness ebbed and flowed. Eva felt herself being put into Roberto's four-wheel drive. She felt him climb into the driver's seat and pull her against him, protectively secured by his right arm, as he started the car with his left.
She asked no questions. Roberto spoke softly, calmly, every now and then, as they drove through the wee-hour darkness, explaining that there was an excellent hospital in Belo Horizonte, where they were headed, assuring her that everything would be all right.
At one point the pain became too great and she cried out. He pulled her even closer to him, as though to absorb the pain himself and thus ease hers. “It's all right, honey. You'll be all right. It won't be very long now. Hang in there for me!”
How fast he drove she neither knew nor cared. Her breathing grew increasingly labored during the long
drive, and she was struggling for air by the time the bright lights of the emergency exit came into view. Roberto pulled to an abrupt stop, jumped out of the vehicle, gently pulling Eva around the steering wheel and into his arms, as he bolted into the hospital.
drive, and she was struggling for air by the time the bright lights of the emergency exit came into view. Roberto pulled to an abrupt stop, jumped out of the vehicle, gently pulling Eva around the steering wheel and into his arms, as he bolted into the hospital.
If the events of the last few hours were a dim haze, even more so were those of the next few hours. Eva's consciousness glimpsed the flurry of activity from afar, coming and going through the swirling mists of fever. Low voices conversed about her, probing hands examined her, able fingers secured an oxygen mask over her nose and mouth. Faces came and went, orders flowed. Eva felt herself being turned and the lifesaving injection being given, and almost instantly the cramping eased. When she mustered enough strength to open her eyes, she saw only Roberto, keeping a silent vigil at her side, his eyes never leaving hers, his hand never releasing nearness imprinted on her ephemeral consciousness.
Her body quieted as she slept, the violent spasms receding, her breathing steady once again. As the light of dawn filtered through the window, she awoke with a start, one last tremor twisting at her stomach before passing from her. Roberto was there. “Shhh. Sleep, baby. I'm here.”
He had to lean closer to hear her faint whisper. “Don't leave me, Roberto.” She turned pleading eyes to him briefly, before sinking again to the depths of unconscious sleep.
He never left her. He was there when one nurse removed the oxygen. He was there when another bathed her spent body. He was there when the doctor re-examined her and administered a second injection. He dozed occasionally in his chair, having slept not at all that night, but he never let go of her hand.
By the late morning she was out of danger, as she had known she would be with proper medication, and had fallen into a deep and restful sleep. It was several hours later when she fully gained consciousness, opened her eyes to find Roberto's, dark and clear, gazing at her.
He smiled, so warmly that her heart turned over. “How do you feel?” he asked in a velvety voice, his smile offsetting the fatigue etched into the rest of his face.
She was weak, though entirely lucid now. “Much better.” She paused, her eyes never straying from him, before continuing in a shaky voice. “Thank you for staying with me. I was terrified when I realized I didn't have my medicineâI'm usually so careful.”
Roberto's finger went to her lips to silence them, remaining a moment too long in its feathery touch, before he quickly withdrew it. “Shhh. It's all over now. You'll be fine.”
“When can I leave the hospital?”
“The doctor says that you'll need several more shots. And he'd like to keep you overnight just to make sure that you can keep food down. You gave us all quite a scare.” Again the warm, affectionate smile that Eva adored.
She looked away from him then, her mind returning to the night before. In a timid voice she began, “Roberto? I'm sorry ⦔ She looked at him as she finished, wanting him to know her sincerity. “I'm sorry ⦠about last night. I didn't mean to back out ⦔
The sadness in his eyes matched hers, as he smiled gently at her and said nothing. She knew that her one chance was gone. Her body had betrayed itself. She dozed off again, as much in escape from her heartrending thoughts as in cure of her fever-scourged being.
When she awoke it was supper time, and Roberto
was just finishing some food he'd been brought. He looked better having eaten, though he was still exhausted. Eva felt well enough herself to worry about him.
was just finishing some food he'd been brought. He looked better having eaten, though he was still exhausted. Eva felt well enough herself to worry about him.
“You should get some rest,” she urged. “Where can you get some sleep?”
“There's a hotel down the street. I'll take a room later. How do you feel?” he asked, his eyes scrutinizing her.
“I really feel fine ⦠just weak. That's the way it always is,” she added with resignation.
“Does this sort of thing happen often?” he asked skeptically, one eyebrow raising humorously.
“No. Not since I was a child. When I got angry at my parents I'd eat fish.” She blushed in embarrassment. “It would punish them but good! Unfortunately, it punished me as well,” she laughed.
“Now there's some color in your cheeks. You look better!” His dark eyes twinkled at her, and with his head cocked at an appealing angle and his thick hair falling casually across his forehead, she could have hugged him. Instead, she quickly looked away so as not to foist on him her unsolicited affection.
At that moment a familiar face peered around the edge of the partially opened door. “So this is where you two have been hiding!” burst out the genial voice, and Paul strode into the room, a broad grin on his face.
Eva flinched imperceptibly at the subtle implication of his words, but she couldn't restrain a smile at the sight of his friendly expression. Oblivious to her discomfort, Paul went on.
“We were pretty surprised to arrive for breakfast this morning and find that you had taken off for the night.” Now he must have caught the darkening in Roberto's face, which Eva clearly saw at a glance, for he deftly smoothed the rough edges by turning his attention
solely to her. “How are you feeling, Eva? I understand you were quite sick!”
solely to her. “How are you feeling, Eva? I understand you were quite sick!”
Eva needed some lightening up after the look at Roberto's expression moments earlier. “Now how would you know that? How do you talk with Maria? Tell me your secret,” she teased with genuine curiosity.
It worked. Both Paul and Roberto laughed at her question, exchanging mischievous winks at the same time. How alike they were, Eva thought once again.
“So you've had trouble, eh? I know exactly what you've gone through. As for me, on the day that I received raw steak with my eggs, I decided to pick up a little Portuguese. Just a few words. They've served me well, at least as far as Maria is concerned. You should try it!” He laughed again.
“I would,” she replied sincerely, “but since I'll be leaving soon, that problem will solve itself.” Now she had done it herself! Oh, yes, that particular problem may be solved upon her departure, but another will only be beginning! A cold shudder passed through her, and Roberto immediately became alert.
“Are you all right?” he asked formally.
“Yes ⦠yes ⦠just a leftover spasm, I guess,” she excused herself quickly. A brief look at Roberto was enough to see the impatience in his eyes.
Paul saved her. “What happened, Eva? Maria babbled something about fish, but my Portuguese isn't
that
good. When did you take sick?”
that
good. When did you take sick?”
Poor Paul, moaned Eva to herself. If he only knew what he was asking! She didn't dare look at Roberto as she answered. “Last night, maybe an hour or so after you all left, it hit. I've been allergic to fish since childhood, and unfortunately, I didn't know there was any in the stew. To complicate matters, the medicine I always carry was buried in the landslideâit had been in my knapsackâand by the time I realized what was
wrong, I was pretty far gone. However, I'm fine now, as you can see. Modern medicine does wonders!” She smiled her strongest smile to convince him, and herself. “What brings you down here?” she continued.
wrong, I was pretty far gone. However, I'm fine now, as you can see. Modern medicine does wonders!” She smiled her strongest smile to convince him, and herself. “What brings you down here?” she continued.
“I saw Tom off about an hour ago. Pierre and Jacques flew out earlier. They were sorry to have missed you. They send their best.” Again the descent of an ominous cloud into the atmosphere. Eva felt her insides churn, partly in disappointment at not being able to say good-bye to the three, partly in anticipation of her own departure. Despite her own discomfort she realized that Roberto had been unusually silent during the conversation. Looking over at him, she caught him glowering at her with an intensity that tore into her. She had to think quickly.
“Roberto, now that Paul is here, you don't really have to stay. Maybe you want to get some rest ⦔ It was the last thing she wanted to say. But having sensed his growing tension, it was the lesser of the evils. It hurt her more to feel his distaste for her than to ask him to leave. Up until Paul had arrived, they had existed in a kind of limbo, with no reminders of past enmity. His arrival had, however, brought back the stark reality of the situation. As kind as Roberto had been to her since she had been sick, she knew that it was only sympathy for her predicament, and a lingering sense of responsibility for her as a member of the team, which had kept him so close. The luxury of having him near her had to end somewhere. Paul might be able to cheer her, if that was at all possible.
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