Only in Dreams(73)

“Have you tried to find something that isn’t so hard for him to eat?”

“I’ve tried everything.”

“Soups?” she presses.

“Everything,” I confirm.

“What’s Doctor Abbott say to do?”

The recent conversation between Doctor Abbott and myself flashes through my mind; it had been quite chilling. “He wants me to work with a hospice company, to assist me as he gets worse.”

“Wait, wasn’t he fine two weeks ago? Isn’t that a little aggressive?” Emmie cautions.

“I don’t know. He has me flipping out. He told me it can happen very quickly now, and I need to be prepared.”

“For what?”

“For it to get much worse.”

“Maybe you should hire someone, Paige,” Emmie suggests.

“No, not you, too.”

“This is hard enough on you as his wife. Do you really want to become his nurse too?” she questions softly.

“If that’s what he needs me to be,” I answer honestly.

“Paige?” I hear Henry’s voice moan from the bedroom.

“Shit!” I exclaim. “He’s awake, gotta go, we’ll talk later.”

“Okay, I’ll call and check on you tomorrow.”

“Bye,” I say before hanging up the phone, not waiting for her response. I hop to my feet and rush down the hall, sliding in my socks to a sudden stop at our bedroom door.

“Henry? Are you all right?” I ask, pushing open the door and making my way across the dark room.

“It’s my head,” he begins. By the time I reach his side I see that he’s gripping his skull with both hands.

The rancid smell of vomit drifts up, gripping my nose, but before it completely registers, I feel my feet slip out from under me. Placing a hand down on the floor at my side, I realize I’m now sitting in a warm, soupy puddle of puke.

“Oh my God,” I gasp.

“I can’t see,” Henry moans, not realizing I had just slipped on his vomit. Panic floods over him, as I push myself up onto my knees, ignoring the mess.

“Baby, it’s okay,” I say. “Doctor Abbott said there was a good chance you’d start having some trouble with your vision. Just stay calm, it will pass.”

“Jesus, it feels like the room is spinning,” he cries. “ I think I’m going to be sick again.”

I immediately snap into action, standing and pulling him up to his feet. With his vision troubles he is hesitant, but eventually trusts me. “Come on, sweetie, let’s get you in a nice cool bath. Those always help with the headaches.”

I hear him whimper as we move toward the master bath.

“Are you okay?” I ask, trying to look at his face, slightly swollen from the increased dosage of steroids he is now on.

“I’m so sorry,” he groans, his voice cracking.

“Henry, there’s nothing to apologize for.”

“I love you so much,” he insists, as I set him on the edge of the tub, making sure he is secure before turning and switching on the water.

“I know you do, and I love you, too,” I say with a smile. “Now let’s get you out of these dirty clothes.”

He grips my arm, looking up at me. It’s obvious he can’t focus. “I shouldn’t have done this to you, and I’m sorry. You have to forgive me.”

With all of my clothes on, I step into the deep tub. Henry never let’s go of me, but silently tilts his head from side to side, trying to figure out what I am doing. After I immerse myself, I tug on one of his legs and then the other, guiding him and helping to lower him between my legs, his shirt now drenched and clinging to his body.

“What are you doing?” he mutters.

“Shh, shh, shh,” I hush him. “Lay back.”

He does as I instruct. I wrap one arm around his neck, resting it on his chest, and with the other I cup the water and gently comb it through his hair.

I sink lower into the water until my lips are touching the tip of his ear. In a breathy soft voice I begin to sing, “I’ve got a daisy on my toe, it’s not real, it does not grow. It’s just a tattoo of a flower, so I’ll look cuter in the shower. It’s on the second toe, of my left foot. A flowering stem that has no root.”

I feel his body tremble slightly as he snickers. “You’re so weird,” he grumbles before laughing some more.

I ignore him, finishing my silly song; “I’ve got a daisy on my toe, my right foot loves, my left foot so.”

I sit, holding Henry in my arms, the water now rising to his elbows. I think about the water washing away this nightmare, bringing my Henry back to me. I know this won’t happen, but I still think about it. Hope for it. Shifting in the tub, I lift a foot and use my toes to turn off the water. I feel Henry laugh again.