“I know, you were there,” it seemed normal to her, “I saw you, and I held your hand, and I came back with you.”
“Why?” He was searching his own memory, and he wanted to understand what had happened to them. He didn't think this was any ordinary thing. People talked of these experiences, but most people didn't share the same bright light in the same dream, the same rock, the same path, the same memory. He realized then that somewhere, in some deep, meaningful way, their souls had met and joined. In another life, they had met and become one.
“I came back because you told me to,” she said quietly. “But then I got lost again after that. I think I fell asleep next to the path.”
“You certainly did, and if you ever do that again, Isabelle, I'm going to be seriously angry at you. Don't you ever get lost on me again.”
“I won't,” she said, and kissed his fingers and hand. “Thank you for waiting for me, and for bringing me back.” She was getting sleepy then, and yawned several times, and before he could say anything more to her, she had fallen into a peaceful sleep holding his hand. And as he looked at her, he had a perfect memory of what she had described, their walking toward the bright light, with Isabelle just ahead of him on the path. It had taken all the strength he had to bring her back from that light, and tonight she had come back to him again. He wasn't sure what any of it meant, but he knew that something extraordinary had happened to them, and as he lay watching her sleep, he knew that in spite of everything that had occurred, he was a very lucky man.
Chapter 10
The doctor called Gordon Forrester at eight o'clock the next day to tell him the news, but the same voice told him he was out again. And he finally reached Gordon in his office at ten. He sounded startled to hear the news, and said he was very pleased. He asked if he could talk to her, but as yet she had no phone. The doctor said he would have one put in for her, and Gordon could call her in her room that afternoon.
“I'm sure the children will want to talk to her,” he said, looking distracted as he sat at his desk, thinking about her. He had already made his peace that she would never come out of the coma, and he was amazed to hear that she had. Although he was certainly relieved for her, it took a little readjustment on his part.
“How did it happen?” Gordon asked innocently, and there was a moment's pause at the doctor's end. He didn't want to tell him about Bill Robinson, he didn't think they'd want him to, and he was right.
“She did it on her own,” he said. It was all Gordon needed to know.
“Well done,” Gordon said as though talking about a golf tournament or a tennis match. In sharp contrast to Bill's tears of joy the night before, Gordon sounded dispassionate, as though he were talking about a distant friend. It was hard to believe she was his wife. But perhaps that explained her relationship with Bill. There were questions the doctor didn't want to ask, and after seeing them together the night before, he didn't need to now. He could see it all. He wondered how long it would be before Gordon came back to London to see her again. For Bill and Isabelle's sake, he hoped it wouldn't be too soon. He had fallen in love with them, it was impossible to resist a love like that, that had gone to the edge of death and beyond and back again. It was something the doctor knew few people ever shared, and it was infinitely precious when they did. “Tell her I'll call her this afternoon when I get home” was all Gordon said, and the doctor assured him he would.
The nurse passed the message on to Isabelle when they plugged in her phone. She was looking forward to talking to the children, but not to him.
“What are we going to do now?” she said to Bill that afternoon, as he sat in his bed in her room, and he kept her company while she ate her first lunch. They had brought her Jell-O and a bowl of very thin soup. It had been a long time since she'd seen food, and it had no appeal at all.
“What do you mean?” Bill asked. “You mean croquet or golf, or a stroll in the park?” He was teasing again, but this time she didn't smile.
“Gordon is going to want to take me back to Paris when I get well.” She wanted to see her children, of course, but she didn't want to leave Bill.
“I don't think that'll be for a while,” Bill said, trying to stay calm himself. “I don't think you can just hop out of bed and run out the door.” She still had a lot of healing to do internally, and they wanted to be careful about her head. The doctor had told her that morning that he expected her to be there for roughly another four weeks. It was about as long as they planned to keep Bill.
“And after that?” she asked him as the nurse fed her the soup. Her hands weren't strong enough to do it yet. She was amazingly weak, which surprised no one but Isabelle.
“We'll figure it out.” He hadn't told her yet that his legs were permanently compromised, and he wasn't sure he would ever walk again. He wanted to think about it. He wasn't sure she needed to know. Unless things had changed radically while she was comatose, he knew that she would go back to Gordon, to take care of her sick child. He could of course still call her, and see her from time to time, but he didn't want her pity, if he was in a wheelchair. All he wanted was her love. He was thinking now that if he could truly never walk again, perhaps he wouldn't see her after they left the hospital, and they would continue their relationship on the phone. He wasn't sure yet what he would do, or how often he could see her after she left. For the moment, she thought his situation was temporary, and he was inclined to keep it that way. She wouldn't worry about him, she couldn't pity him, and he also hadn't told her about his divorce. He didn't want her to think he was putting pressure on her. He fully understood that she had to go home to her family eventually. All he wanted was to enjoy the time they had.
She was in her room that afternoon, and so was Bill, when Gordon called. He told her that he was very relieved to know that she was getting well. He made it sound as though she were recovering from a sprained ankle, or a bad fall. In fact, he felt as though she had returned from the dead. By the time she woke up, he hadn't expected her to live, or to come out of the coma. He had begun to think of himself as a widower, and he had to mentally turn the clock back again, to resume his marriage to her. He sounded very strange, and she correctly guessed that he was angry about Bill, and punishing her for it. He sounded awkward to her, but there was no awkwardness when she talked to Teddy and Sophie. Sophie cried when she heard her mother's voice, and all Teddy could do was gasp for air and sob. Isabelle thought he sounded terrible, and she asked Gordon about it when her children got off the phone. She was still crying from the overwhelming emotion of hearing them. She had been so worried about both of them.
“Teddy will be much better now,” Gordon said casually. Sophie had said she wanted to come to see her, but Gordon said her mother would be home soon enough. “How soon will they let you leave?” he asked matter-of-factly. There was no point in his going to see her, he said, if she was coming home.
“They said in about four weeks, depending on my liver, my head, and my heart.” They were hardly small things to contemplate, but Gordon didn't seem impressed. Now that she was out of the coma, he was dismissive of the rest.
“Four weeks sounds a bit long, doesn't it? I'm sure they'll let you go sooner if you ask.” He sounded faintly suspicious of her, and wondered if she was dragging her feet, because Bill was still there. Gordon was not going to tolerate that. “I'll talk to the doctor myself. You can get all the medical attention you need here.” She felt panicked when she got off the phone, and she told her doctor that Gordon was going to call to press him into sending her home.
“Is that what you want, Isabelle? We could probably transfer you to a hospital in Paris in a week or so. You're not ready to be at home yet.”
“I want to stay here,” she said, looking worried. They both knew why.
“I'll take care of it,” he said reassuringly. He was willing to do that for her and Bill, he liked them both. They'd been to hell and back, and her children could wait. But later, she admitted to Bill how worried she was about Teddy. He hadn't sounded well on the phone, and it was the one thing that made her feel she should try to go home sooner than planned. It drove her crazy knowing how badly he needed her and how long she'd been gone, although she knew he was in good hands. Bill was sympathetic, as always, when they spoke of it later on.
“I'm sure this has been terribly traumatic for him. God knows what Gordon said to him about the condition you were in. But now that he's heard your voice, and knows you'll be home in a few weeks, I'm sure he'll improve every day.” She felt reassured by what Bill said.
“I hope so,” she said fervently. “Thank God Sophie is there. She wanted to come to see me, but I don't think she should. Teddy needs her there, more than I do here.” And she had Bill. She wanted this time with him before they left each other and she went back, but not at her children's expense. “What about Cindy? Do you think she'll come back to see you here?”
“No,” he said simply, without explaining why. And the girls would be busy all summer. “I told them I'd see them when I get back.” He had also told the doctor not to tell Isabelle how extensive the damage was to his spine, and that he wouldn't be able to walk. It was the one thing, other than the divorce, that he didn't want her to know. He wanted time to see how much better he could get. She thought it would take him a long time to heal, like six months or a year, so she wasn't surprised that he couldn't walk.
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