26. Ben
ben
. . .
T he last thing I remember is playing with a puppy and telling the store clerk I wanted to buy him. Now, though, as I look around, I know I’m not in the pet store anymore, or at home, but in the hospital and I don’t have a clue as to how I ended up here. What I do know is that Elle’s by my side, right where she said she would be. I reach for her hand, and she gives it to me freely, but not before kissing the back of mine.
“I was so scared,” she says with tears streaming down her face. I want to brush them away, but my body is stiff. I ache and my brain is fuzzy, except for images of her and I sitting side by side in white rocking chairs and looking off into the sunset. It’s nothing we’ve ever done, even sitting at her parents or on our balcony, and the dog I remember holding isn’t in the picture. But I hear voices. They sound young, and there’s a lot of laughter.
“Where am I?” I ask as I move my head from side to side, trying to see my surroundings. Behind me, there’s a large window, but there isn’t any sunlight coming through. Is it raining? Evening? I hate the fog in my brain right now. I feel lost and hopeless.
“Beaumont General,” Elle says. She brushes her hand across the blanket covering me. “You collapsed at the pet store and an ambulance brought you here.”
“Really?”
She nods. “You had a fever, Ben. A bad fever and you’re very sick.”
“Yeah, the chemo does that.”
Elle’s lips morph into a fine line and she shakes her head. She inhales deeply and I know she’s about to deliver the worst news of my life. “You had a cut on your leg, and it became infected. After tracing our days last week, I figured it happened at the lake when you thought you were bitten by a fish. Quinn went out there and found some rusty nails sticking out of the wood and into the water. We never saw you bleeding because your leg was in the water. You developed sepsis. The doctor believes you’re going to make a full recovery, but it’s going to take some time, especially with your compromised immune system.”
“I’m going to die, aren’t I?”
Elle doesn’t answer me right off. I look at the ceiling, unable to look into her eyes. “We just have to be more aware of what we’re doing. I should’ve never suggested we go to the lake with everyone or gone back to work. Had we been home, I would’ve seen the signs. I would’ve known you had a fever.”
I turn my head sharply toward her, which is a mistake. Pain radiates down my side and my stomach rolls. I close my eyes again and practice my breathing exercises until the nausea subsides.
“I don’t want you to live like a hermit or give up what you want to do because I might get sick. This is why I didn’t tell you, Elle. You shouldn’t have to put your life on hold because I have cancer and now this whatever the hell it’s called.” I let go of her hand and cross my arms over my chest. I’m close to telling her to leave, but I know she won’t. She’s defiant sometimes. Well, most of the time. She’s undoubtedly the most stubborn woman I know.
“Ben, it’s not your fault you got another infection or even the first infection. When we were at the lake, neither of us gave it a second thought when you said you got bit by a fish. Let’s be honest, what fish is actually going to bite someone?”
“A shark,” I say, sarcastically.
“In a lake?” she retorts. “It’s not like we were hanging out on the Hudson River and a shark decided to take a stroll up the river.”
I shrug.
“Stop being petulant,” she tells me. “Shit happens. We deal with it and move on but having a crap attitude or telling me you’re going to do this alone isn’t going to help. I’m not going anywhere, Ben. And if I want to feel guilty about things, I’m going to.”
“But I don’t want you to,” I say quietly. “I don’t want you to feel guilty for staying with me when I’m a walking talking time bomb.”
Elle stands abruptly and leans toward me with her finger poised in the air. “Benjamin Miller, I will not tolerate the negativity. You’re going to beat this. All of this. The cancer, the sepsis, and whatever else pops the hell up. We’re going to fight. Together.”
I shake my head and will the tears forming in my eyes to go away. “I’ve been at this fight for weeks, Elle, and hospitalized twice. It’s hard to remain positive.”
“We knew the risks,” she says, sitting back down. “We knew infections could happen, and this last one could’ve been avoided. We just have to be diligent. But I need you to get it through your head, I’m not going anywhere.”
Finally, I let the tears flow. “I don’t know what I’d do without you.” My voice is barely above a whisper, but she hears me. Elle rests her head on my shoulder and her tears soak through my gown, the cotton excuse for pajamas the hospital dresses you in. I put my hand over the top of hers and before I know it, she’s crawling into bed, next to me.
“I love you so much, Ben.”
“I love you,” I tell her and then let out a little laugh. “I had a dream while I was sleeping.”
“You were in a coma.”
I try to shrug, but my shoulders don’t move much. “I think it was before I woke up fully. It was right before I opened my eyes.”
“What did you dream about?” she asks. I like that she didn’t discount me a second time and believes me when I tell her I had a dream.
“Us, although it was weird. We were there, and I talked about our wedding. You wanted me to tell you about it or something, and then we sat on a porch together. I think we were watching our kids play, which is silly because I can’t have kids.”
“You froze your sperm, remember.”
I grimace at the thought. “It won’t be the same.”
Elle hugs me tighter. “It will be the same. Whoever you marry will carry your child normally. Inception can still happen like it normally would, it’s just different because the doctor has to insert the sperm during ovulation.”
“So clinical.”
“Eh, just look at it as having all the birth control free sex you want. Most women will be grateful, and you’ll definitely save on condoms. Your wife will thank you someday.”
“Will she?” I ask.
Elle nods. “If not, then she doesn’t grasp what a gift you are to her.”
I clear my throat and say her name quietly.
“Huh?” she responds.
“Look at me.”
She lifts her head, and our eyes meet. “Will you marry me?”
“What?” her voice cracks.
“Will you allow me to take back everything I said in December and marry me? Forget all the stupid shit I said and did, and consider being my wife? I can’t, for the life of me, see myself traversing this path I’m on without you. Not now and not in five, ten or fifteen years. Hell, not ever. When I close my eyes, it’s you I see next to me, whether we’re at home, in the office or on the road. I realize now, you don’t have to give up your career to be my wife or for us to have a family because I can go with you. Your mom took you, Peyton, and Quinn on the road, and we can do the same thing. I know the road isn’t the best place to raise a family, but when they’re little, who cares, right?”
I adjust and try to sit up a bit, but the strain on my port hurts. I wince and Elle’s there to soothe me. Once the pain subsides, I continue, “I was wrong not to see past the importance of having your dad walk you down the aisle. I didn’t get it until he shared his thoughts with me, and I was wrong for the things I said to you. I’m sorry, Elle. I’m sorry for making you think I don’t care about your job because I do. I see the good you do for young artists and they’re lucky to have you. And I’m sorry for not accepting your feelings on planning our wedding. I was angry and being an ass. Instead of fighting for us, I gave up, but you didn’t. If I were you, I would’ve run far and fast, but you didn’t because you believe in us.”
“I do,” she says, nodding.
My hands cup her cheeks and I wipe away her tears. “I’m so damn sorry, Elle, for all the hurt I’ve caused you. I want to be your husband and the father to your children. I don’t even care if we have to wait or you want to do it right now, in this room, just please tell me you’ll marry me.”
Elle lets out a sob and covers her mouth. She nods frantically while saying, “Yes,” through her cries. “Absolutely, yes.”
I pull her in for a kiss only for a knock on the door to interrupt us. “Are you freaking kidding me?”
Elle pulls away and laughs. “I’m not supposed to be on your bed,” she says quietly and slips back into the chair. I refuse to let go of her hand and keep our fingers locked together tightly.
“Come in.”
A doctor and nurse come in, and Elle tells me they’ve been looking after me since I was brought in. She tells me she’s going to be right back and leaves the room. The doctor goes through my illness, and how he wants me to stay in the hospital for my next round of chemo and my off week. He wants to monitor my organs for a bit longer and feels that staying in the hospital is the best solution. For obvious reasons, I don’t like the idea, but since I almost killed myself with an imaginary fish bite, I give in. Unfortunately, he also wants me to stay in the ICU to prevent any cross contamination on the other floors and says my risk of future infections is lower while in here. This means, visitation is limited to visiting hours only.
The nurse steps back from the doctor, cracks a smile and winks. I’m assuming something’s up. I have a feeling Elle’s pitched a fit about visiting hours, and if she hasn’t, I bet she might now. When the doctor is done speaking, the nurse asks if I’m up to trying some solid foods and I agree. Honestly, I’m sort of hungry, and was hoping to get out of ICU so Elle could bring me some food. I’m going to have to ask her if she can at least sneak me a cinnamon roll from Whimsicality or something.
When they finally leave, the quiet gives me a moment to reflect and to close my eyes. I’m tired, but I don’t want Elle to think I don’t want her in here. I do. I need to feel her presence. I don’t know where the courage to spill my guts to Elle came from but I’m glad that whatever dream or vision I had made me realize how much of a fool I’ve been. There’s no reason why we can’t be happy as a couple, married and with children, while she has a career. I can be the guy that follows his wife on tour, the stay-at-home dad, the cub or girl scout leader. I can do whatever I expected her to do. I should’ve never expected her to give up her career. It’s what she’s wanted to do for as long as I’ve known her. My job is only because of her. I had to find something I thought would keep us together, when I just needed to focus on how we feel about each other.
There’s a soft knock on the door and then it opens. Elle enters with Quinn right behind her. Now, I know this is against the rules. One visitor at a time—I remember that much from when Peyton was in ICU.
“Hey, man, it’s good to see you.” Quinn and I bump fists. “I’m a little confused though. Are we breaking rules now?”
“Elle’s broken all the rules since you were admitted,” Quinn says. He then looks at his sister and I know they’re up to something.
Elle gives me a kiss and then holds my hand. “Do you want to get married today?”
“What?” I look from her to Quinn. “I’m not out of here for a couple of weeks, at least.” Which doesn’t really answer her question about today.
“I know,” she says. “But you said something earlier, and it got me thinking. Life is unpredictable. The curve balls that have been thrown our way, we’re doing a good job dodging them now, but . . .” She pauses and shakes her head. “I want to dodge them with you, Ben. I don’t want to have to wait for someone to look at your chart to prove I’m your person, if that makes sense. If you hadn’t signed the directive in Los Angeles, I wouldn’t have been able to authorize care for you or be able to see you. I don’t like knowing I can’t take care of you or that I would’ve had to depend on your mom to make your medical decisions.”
“I wouldn’t have liked that either,” I interrupt her.
“That makes a whole family of us,” Quinn says. “By the way, she’s out in the waiting room and is eager to see you, and none too happy that I’m in here before her.”
“I can imagine.” I’m surprised she’s here, to be honest. She wasn’t too happy with me when I kicked her out of our house in Malibu.
“Guys, stop interrupting me,” Elle demands. I focus on her with my undivided attention. “I love you, Ben, and I think we should get married, today.”
“What about your dad walking you down the aisle?”
“We’ll have a ceremony later, once you’re in the clear and feeling up to it. Right now, I don’t want to wait any longer to be your wife.”
“But—”
“No buts.” She places her finger over my lips. “I want this. I want to be your wife. I don’t want to wait.”
Deep down, I know she doesn’t want to wait because of the cancer. I should tell her no and give her the wedding she wants, the one she deserves, but selfishly I want to be her husband, whether I live past tonight or not.
“Yes, a but,” I tell her. “You and your dad have made a compelling case for a wedding because you both want to walk down the aisle. I get it. It makes sense to me now. I don’t want you to do something you don’t want to do.”
Elle cups my cheek. “I want to marry you, Ben. Right here. Right now. My parents will understand, and when you have the all clear, we’ll have that massive wedding, in the vineyard, and my dad will walk me down the aisle. We’ll party until sunrise and then jet off to the honeymoon of our dreams. I want this for us, but if you want to wait, I understand.”
A smile spreads across my face. “Okay. We should see if I can get out of here for a bit. Maybe go to the chapel. There’s a chapel here, right?”
Elle nods. “There is, but the chaplain won’t marry us.”
“Oh, right. No license.”
“Right, but there’s this website and we fill out the form online, submit our driver’s licenses, and they do the rest of the work. There isn’t a waiting period.”
“But with no one to marry us?—”
“That’s where I come in,” Quinn interrupts. “This website also ordains people and you’re looking at the newly minted Quinn James . . .” he pauses and looks at Elle. “Do I have a title?”
She shakes her head slowly. “I don’t think so.”
“Damn, a title would’ve been cool. Nonetheless, I can marry you. I mean?—”
“We know what you mean, Quinn,” Elle says.
She looks at me and smiles. “Or we can wait.”
I bring her hand up to my lips and kiss the ring I put on there a while ago. “I don’t want to wait.”
“Me neither,” she says before leaning forward and kissing me.