3. Isabel
When I entered Henry’s room, the curtains were already open, the fairy lights on the bedposts were blinking and everything just seemed less bleak than it had before.
I gently touched Henry’s hand and kissed him on the cheek. “Morning Henry, it’s Isabel.”
This time the heart machine’s beat remained steady. I was beginning to think I might have imagined the whole thing yesterday morning. Not that I didn’t think he was in there. He was just going to take his time and wake up when he was good and ready.
There was the question of what music we were going to listen to and after perusing the choices, I settled on The Beatles. Who didn’t love them.
I sat down in my chair and moved the small table with the Monopoly board so it was between Henry and me. “So, I guess we have a game to continue here. And it’s my turn to throw the dice. Here’s to me not hitting one of your properties. Park Lane and Mayfair are just sharpening their claws.”
I threw the two dice and came up with eight. It was the very number that landed me on Park Lane. One of the two most expensive properties on the Monopoly board. Henry had a hotel there. I was screwed.
“Oh for God’s sake. I can’t pay you, Henry. I’m ruined. This is damn near the saddest thing that I’m losing this game to a guy who’s asleep. How pathetic is that, I ask you.”
Suddenly an unmistakable sound emerged from the bed, like a muffled chuckle. My heart stilled. My mouth fell open. I jumped up and pushed the board away, things flying all over the place, and moved halfway across the bed.
“Henry, was that you?” I took his hand. “Okay, tell you what. If you can hear me, or if you know I’m here, squeeze my hand, okay?” I gave him a minute but there was no squeeze.
Then I leaned closer to his ear. “You know what, you don’t squeeze my hand now, I’m putting Bach back on and reading you Steinbeck, let’s see how you like that.”
For the longest time it was very quiet except for the machines. My heart had come back to life and was now fluttering like a bird’s wings in my chest.
I felt desperation immersing me. “Henry, I know you’re in there. All you have to do is let me know. I’m not asking for a whole lot.”
I waited, never letting go of Henry’s hand. And then it happened, the faintest but definite movement in Henry’s hand. Tears burned my eyes. “Okay, I felt that. Thank you.”
I slipped off the bed, and it suddenly became extremely important for me to focus and not lose track of why I was here in the first place. Keeping distractions at a minimum was key. That meant no more wallowing in my untamed need for Henry’s son. My common sense was getting lost in the flood of desire that never seemed to fade. But if ever there was a time to get hold of myself it was right the hell now.
I was wrestling with whether I should tell anyone what just happened with Henry. But I came to the conclusion that giving Emily hope, false or otherwise, wasn’t a burden I was willing to take on right now. Better yet, I needed to give Henry better incentives to wake up.
For starters, new games. If I remembered correctly there was a Scrabble board in the library. And I definitely had to up my chess game.
I could read Lady Chatterly’s Lover to Henry until afternoon, when I would quietly sneak to the library to find a book on chess, and hope I didn’t cross paths with Roman. Which would be completely insane and I put the chances of that happening at minus zero.
I picked up all the Monopoly pieces scattered everywhere and packed them away. I sat down on my reading chair and battled to eliminate all thoughts of Roman.
“Lady Chatterly’s Lover by D. H. Lawrence.” I said and started reading page one. “Ours is essentially a tragic age, so we refuse to take it tragically. The cataclysm has happened, we are among the ruins, we start to build up new little habitats to have new little hopes.”I shot Henry a withering glance. “It gets more exciting I promise. For now let’s just ignore the gloomy start.”