Chapter 32
Something had happened to her. She didn’t know what.
But everyone looked very concerned. Her mother kept appearing in her field of vision—if you could call it that.
She used to have such crystal-clear vision, but now it felt as if she was looking through a dense layer of white fog that made everything soft and blurry.
All she could hear was a low hum. Words didn’t penetrate through it.
She knew that people were saying things, but she had no idea what they were.
The effort of figuring it out was too enormous even to contemplate, so she didn’t bother.
She just…existed. What a strange thing, this existence.
Neither alive nor dead. Neither happy nor sad.
Neither fearful nor hopeful. Just…there.
At some point—had time passed? She had no idea—the fog thinned enough for her to know she was in a hospital hooked up to an IV. Her parents were working on a crossword puzzle together. She smiled at the sight. They loved doing crosswords. And they loved doing things together.
Her gaze drifted to the other side of the room, where her brother Jamie was reading a book.
His mouth was moving, and she realized he was reading it out loud to someone else.
She turned her head and saw another man, blond and lanky, stretched in a chair, arms linked behind his head, listening to Jamie read.
A feeling arose inside her, the first one she’d experienced in some time. Disappointment. Something about that man disappointed her, but she couldn’t put her finger on what it was. She kept looking around the room but no one else was there. Was someone else supposed to be there?
All of that thought drained her and her eyelids drifted shut. She needed more sleep. She needed lots of sleep. Endless sleep. Maybe the day would come when she didn’t need any more sleep. But in this moment, she couldn’t imagine it.
The next time the fog cleared, the room was empty except for Jamie and the other man, who were playing a game of chess on a travel set.
She watched them for a while, wondering what they were talking about so intimately.
No sound came her way, but that might be because they were keeping their voices low.
Their two heads were so close, nearly touching.
They were so caught up in their game and their conversation that they didn’t notice her eyes were open.
Eventually she drifted back to sleep. When she woke again, Jamie and Duncan--yes, that was his name!—were laughing as they divided up a plate of Chinese noodle. Her parents were slow-dancing in a corner of the hospital room. That made her smile. And go back to sleep.
Then one day, she could hear. Sounds flowed into her consciousness, fascinating and incomprehensible. Rhythms, melodies, intonations…and then something clicked and she could understand words.
“Her brain activity has been picking up,” a grave male voice was saying. “But she’s not in the clear yet.”
“Please just tell us she’s going to be normal again.” That voice was familiar. It belonged to her mother.
“Normal might be a bit different for her. We won’t know how different until she regains consciousness.”
“But she will do that, right? She’ll be herself again?”
“I advise you all to be patient. She’s working hard to heal.” That voice disappeared, and so did the others, as she drifted back to sleep.
Sometime later, another male voice pulled her out of her cocoon of slumber. This voice sounded different, an accent, yes, that’s what it had. She knew the voice, but not well.
“I want you to know that this setback makes no difference to me. I’m still fully committed to you.
But if you can hear me, you should know that we’re running out of time.
The bequest is going to expire in three days.
That pesky hundred-year deadline. Please wake up before then.
Please, my darling Mathilda. Philip Phelps thinks that performing our vows while you’re in this state might be legally questionable.
But we may be forced to do that as a fallback, even if it gets invalidated at a future point.
The last thing I want to do is marry someone in a coma.
Please, Mathilda, if you’re in there, now is the time to speak. ”
A thought moved sluggishly through her brain. It wasn’t much of a thought. Just a “no.”
But it gathered some momentum, like a snowball rolling down a slope. No. This was wrong. She didn’t want this. She didn’t want him. She didn’t know him. It wasn’t right. No no no.
Over the next unknown stretch of existence, she tried to fill in the details of that feeling. He was talking about marriage. To her? Why to her, when she didn’t even know him? Not only that, but…there was something else. Someone else. Yes, that was it!
Someone else who made her heart soar. Someone with dark eyes that smiled at her as if she was magic.
I have to get out of this fog. That thought became more clear and more forceful, and she used it to pull herself along. There’s something out there I have to attend to before it’s too late. And not just for me. For my family. For the world.
Gradually the missing pieces filled in. Reality in all its chaos and turbulence rushed back into her vision. It was too much at first, and she had to step back to orient herself. The cottage. The crystal. Her family. The bequest. The stakes.
“Hi,” she said softly one day. Or was it night? The curtains in the hospital room were drawn so she didn’t know. She did know that she was not on the Big Island anymore. She was on Oahu. She’d figured that out when she’d heard the nurses complaining about the Honolulu traffic.
“Darling!” Charlotte shot to her feet. “You’re awake. Are you awake? Can you hear me? Can you see me?”
“You’re wearing a muumuu.”
“Yes! I am, isn’t it divine? I did some research for my fashion friends and they were originally adapted by the lovely Hawaiian ladies from the long gowns the missionaries used to wear.
Isn’t that fascinating? I find them quite enchanting, and perfect for this climate.
” She stopped to take a breath. “Why am I rattling on like this? How do you feel, darling? Like yourself again?”
“Not…quite.” Mathilda tried to sit up, but didn’t get far before her father rushed to her side.
“Let me help, my dear.” He supported her from behind while she dragged herself into a sitting position, then propped pillows behind her back.
Being upright made her head swim. She took a few deep breaths until everything steadied.
She looked around the hospital room and spotted books, journals, laptops, takeout containers… but no one else.
“Where’s Jamie?” she asked her father.
“He went for a jog. It’s about sunset now, and that’s his favorite time, once it’s cooled a bit.”
“And…” It took a moment to summon the name. “Duncan?”
“Also jogging. They went together. They should be back shortly.”
“And the lawyer? Ph…Ph…Philip Phelps?” All the “f” sounds made her giggle. “Is he still hanging around?”
“As a matter of fact, he is. Do you want to talk to him?”
“I do. What day is it? Did I wake up in time? Am I…am I married?”
Her parents both looked at her in horror. “Heavens, no. We never would have permitted that,” said her mother. “You were in a coma!”
“Really? Even if it meant the end of the Aberdeen Bequest?” Mathilda was actually quite touched, although of course she knew in her heart that her parents wouldn’t force her into anything. It was a good thing they’d stuck around, because she couldn’t say the same for Philip Phelps.
Her parents shared a glance. “You know our feelings on the matter,” her father said gently. “We want the best for you, one way or another. The good news is that you still have time. At least…” He checked his watch. “Fourteen hours.”
“Plenty of time.” She made to get out of the hospital bed, then moaned. “Ow. My muscles. I think they’re out of practice.”
“Be gentle, darling. Take your time.” Charlotte fluttered over her like a mother hen. A muumuu-wearing mother hen.
“What’s this now?” A doctor strode into the room. She recognized that voice, and now she saw that he was an authoritative man with perfect posture, like someone out of those vintage photos of early Japanese community leaders. “Stay where you are while I check your vitals.”
There was no arguing with that command, so she obeyed, which also gave her a chance to catch her breath. He ran her through a series of questions, and her answers seemed to satisfy him.
“What do you remember?” he asked.
“Hardly anything. Everything went dark, and then Rory and Lincoln came and I was so confused, and then…where are they?”
“Oh dear, who knows?” said Charlotte. “Duncan threw them out of our cottage, then you passed out and we rushed you to the hospital. We haven’t seen or heard from them since.”
Her stomach cratered. Rory must have moved on from whatever undefined thing they had between them. Did that make a difference for what she was about to do?
No. This was her call. Hers and Duncan’s. And actually, she was going to have to make it by herself because Duncan clearly had a very strong sense of duty and tradition.
As the doctor was wrapping up his examination, Jamie strolled into the room, his face pink from his jog. A moment later came Duncan in rugby shorts and a loose t-shirt.
“She’s awake! You’re awake!” Jamie rushed toward her and gave her a slightly sweaty hug. Over his shoulder she met Duncan’s eyes. He grinned broadly, but she couldn’t read anything else in his gaze, neither excitement nor doubt about getting married in the next twelve hours.
This decision was definitely going to be up to her.
Philip Phelps hurried into the room. “I got your text. Marvelous. There’s still time to execute the contract. And look at this. We’re all here. Bride, groom, lawyer, witnesses.” He pulled a bouquet of flowers from behind his back. “I even had time to stop at the hotel gift shop.”