Warren Butterfield Pt. 04

When Megan came into the room she immediately came over to me and kissed me on the forehead.

"You're still hot," she said.

"What does that mean?" I said.

"You still have a fever," she said.

The doctor had already left the room but the nurse was still there when Megan came in so I waited until she left before I confronted Megan.

"So why didn't you finish what you started last night?" I said.

"Finish what?

"You tried to kill me but for some reason you didn't finish the job. Why?"

"What are you talking about?" Megan said.

"Come on. We both know what you did. I just don't know how you got the hospital to help you cover up the fact that you shot me," I said.

I don't know what reaction I was expecting from Megan but the one I got was a surprise. She laughed. Not long or hard but she laughed. She tried to hide it by covering her mouth with her hand but I saw her laugh.

Megan quickly regained her composure and said, "I'm sorry. I know this isn't funny to you but why on earth would you think that I shot you?"

"I don't know. Maybe you're still mad at me for leaving you the way I did or maybe because I stood you up for our meeting Saturday afternoon. You were certainly angry when you came to Grandma Jean's last night. My memory of what happened isn't real clear but I do remember that when I opened the door you yelled at me and then you shot me," I said.

"What else do you remember?" Megan asked.

I took a moment to get what I remembered straight in my head and then I recounted the story to Megan.

"After you shot me I heard you in the kitchen. It sounded like you were talking to someone and looking for something to eat in the refrigerator. I remember feeling cold and wet from the pool of blood I was lying in and then seeing you trying to put something over my face to suffocate me. I figure you must have called some friends for help because two guys showed up and one of them tied me down while the other stuck a needle in my arm. That was the last thing I remembered before I woke up here."

"And you really think I shot you?" Megan said.

"Yes."

"And what you remember about last night fits with the idea that I shot you?"

"Yes... I think. I don't know. Things are still a little cloudy to me."

"Your fever is making your thinking a little fuzzy. Try thinking about this: if I shot you, where is the bullet wound?" Megan said.

"I don't know. They have my hands tied to the bed so I can't examine myself." I said.

"They strapped your arms and legs down to keep you from pulling out your IV," Megan said and then she removed my arm and leg restraints. "See if you can find your bullet wound now."

I lowered the sheet that was covering me and pulled my hospital gown up until I could see my chest. To my surprise I found no bandages or any other sign of a wound.

"Do you feel any pain?" Megan asked.

"Yes. I have a bad headache and a very sore throat," I said.

"That's right. One of the first things we learned in nursing school was that headache and sore throat are definite symptoms of a gunshot wound. I almost forgot," Megan said with a hint of sarcasm in her voice.

"I am glad that you think this is so funny," I said. "I am becoming more confused by the minute and nothing seems to make sense to me. So why don't you tell me what happened?"

"Do you really think I find it funny that only man I have ever loved almost died and now he thinks that I tried to kill him. I laughed only because I think I know why you think I shot you, not because I think it's funny that you think that. Do you understand?"

"What the hell did you just say?"

"When you didn't show up for our meeting yesterday afternoon I called to ask you why. Do you remember that?"

"Vaguely," I said.

"When I called I asked you why you didn't come to see me and all you said was, 'Oh, Shit' and then it sounded like you dropped the phone. I could still hear you but you didn't come back on the line. I was angry about being stood up and concerned about the way you dropped the phone and didn't pick it up again. I was worried about what might have happened so I got in the car and drove down to Lexington.

"When I finally got to your door I could see you lying on the sofa in the living room but you didn't respond to my knocking on the door right away. I almost gave up and left but then I saw the telephone lying on the floor near the sofa and that worried me, so I kept banging on the door.

"Try to imagine what I thought when I saw you get up and stagger to the door. Then when you opened the door you had to hang onto the doorcase with your right hand to stay on your feet and you were carrying a bottle of bourbon in your left hand. I was pissed. I thought you had decided to skip our meeting and get drunk instead. I had just started to tell you what I thought when the bottle dropped from your hand and smashed on the floor and you collapsed backwards and fell to the floor.

"I reached down to check your pulse and as soon as I touched your neck I could tell that you were burning up with a fever. I got a thermometer out of the medicine cabinet in the bathroom and took your temperature. It was over 105 degrees. A fever that high can be fatal. What you heard me doing in the kitchen was getting ice out of the freezer and calling 911 to get an ambulance.

"I put the ice behind your neck and in your armpits. That cold and wet feeling you had was the ice melting around you, not a pool of blood. When you thought I was trying to suffocate you I was trying to put a cold compress on your head. The two men you saw were the paramedics that responded to my call. They had to strap you to the gurney so that they could start an IV because you kept fighting them."

"Is that true?" I said. I was getting more confused by the minute.

"Of course. If you were thinking clearer you would know that it was," Megan said.

"If I wasn't shot then what is wrong with me?"

"You have a very severe case of the flu," Megan said. "When I found you, you had a dangerously high fever, you were delirious and you were extremely dehydrated. They have been pushing fluids into you since last night and your hydration is getting back to normal but your fever is still higher than we want but you are going to recover."

I was still having a problem making sense out of things but what Megan told me did seem to fit the facts and made more sense than what I had originally believed happened.

I looked up into Megan's big blue eyes and I couldn't think of anything to say to her. I tried but no words would come to me so I started to cry. My tears felt hot as they ran down my cheeks. I could see the tears starting to form in Megan's eyes just before she turned away from me to pick up a cold compress, which she then placed on my forehead.

"Why don't you get some sleep now, Butter?" Megan said. "I'll be here if you need anything."

Then Megan kissed me on the cheek and said, "Do you have any idea how much I love you?"

I tried to blink back my tears but they didn't cooperate. I tried to speak but the lump in my throat wouldn't allow it so I just smiled at her.

***** Chapter 38 - The Darkness, Then the Dawn

I must have slept for a few hours because when I woke up I could see that it was dark outside. Megan was sitting in a chair by the window reading a magazine and didn't notice that I was looking at her. She looked so beautiful sitting there that it made my heart ache.

When Megan finally looked over at me and saw that I was awake she jumped out of her chair and came over to the bed.

"How are you feeling?"

"Pretty much like a pile of crap," I said.

"Well, that should be an improvement over the way you felt yesterday," Megan said and then she held a cup of cold water so that I could get the straw into my mouth and I took a long swallow.

The rest of that night I spent in a restless sleep. Every time I woke up I found Megan sitting in the same chair by the window. The first couple of times she was reading, the last time she was asleep. Watching her was both a pleasure and a pain. My thinking was getting clearer and I was beginning to realize how crazy it was for me to think that Megan had shot me. Then I began thinking about how great things had been between us before Trish came to live with us. Even while Trish was trying to destroy our marriage I felt that Megan loved me. That is until I had become suspicious that she was having an affair. But Megan didn't have an affair, so why was I living by myself in Grandma Jean's house instead of being with Megan?

As much as I loved Megan I still hadn't been able to forgive her for not seeing what her mother was up to. If Megan and I were ever going to be together I was going to have to be able to get past that. Such were my thoughts as I tried to sleep that night.

When morning finally arrived I awoke to find Megan wiping my face with a cool cloth.

"Do you feel up to eating some breakfast?" Megan asked.

"I am hungry but I am afraid that I won't be able to keep it down," I said.

"You should be all right now. Your fever broke last night."

My breakfast arrived about twenty minutes later. It consisted of something white, something brown and a glass of something that was either apple juice or a urine specimen. I found out later that the white stuff was an egg and the brown stuff was a sausage patty although I never would have known that by tasting them.

After eating, I asked Megan when I would be released from the hospital.

"I think that since your fever broke the doctor will probably let you go home today," Megan said. "If he does, I would like to come stay with you at least until you feel well enough to go back to work."

I looked into those big blue eyes and responded the only way I could. "That would be nice."

The doctor came in at ten o'clock and checked me over and told me I could go home. Of course it was another hour and a half before I was finally on my way home in Megan's eight-year old Toyota.

We didn't talk much on the ride home. When we walked into the house the first thing I noticed was the strong smell of bourbon and then I saw the broken bottle on the floor.

"I need to clean up that mess," I said.

"You are going straight to bed. I'll clean that up while you get some sleep," Megan said.

"All I have done for the last twenty-four hours is sleep."

"It's what your body needs right now," Megan said. "Tomorrow, if you are feeling up to it, we'll talk."

***** Chapter 38 - The Talk

Tuesday morning I was feeling much better. I still felt a bit weak but my head didn't hurt and my throat wasn't sore and my appetite had returned. After I ate a large breakfast and drank two cups of coffee, Megan joined me in the living room to talk. I still felt that I was the wronged party so I waited for Megan to begin the conversation. I could tell she was nervous by the way she kept pacing around the room before she started to speak.

"Warren, I am sorry for what happened," Megan started, "but keep in mind that what my mother did, she did to both of us, not just you. You have to know that if I had any clue as to what Trish was up to I would have thrown her out of the house myself. What she did hurt me terribly but what you did was even worse."

"What I did? How does that compare to what Trish did?" I said.

"You found out what Trish was up to and never said a word to me until you decided to drop your little bomb on us," Megan said. "How do you think it made me feel to find out that my own mother hated me so much that she was trying to ruin my life? I needed you more then than I had ever needed you and you just walked away from me. You blamed me for everything and left me with nobody I could turn to for support."

This was not what I expect Megan to say to me. I expected her to be contrite and apologetic. I never expected that she would attack me.

"What did you expect me to do?" I said. "Trish and Brandon invaded our home and turned my life upside down. It seemed to me that Trish made it very obvious that she didn't think I was good enough for you and I didn't see you defending me. Trish made decisions about how we should furnish our house, where we should live, what clubs we should join, and what car you should drive. In the end she even tried to pick the man you should have an affair with and you never doubted her but you sure seemed to doubt me. Any time I tried to tell you about her you didn't want to hear it."

"I just thought that you and Trish were having problems getting along. I felt like I was stuck in the middle, trying to keep the peace. I would never in my life have thought that my mother would want to hurt me. I believed that she loved me and just wanted what was best for me. I just thought that her problems with you were trust issues caused by my father walking out on her. I'm sorry. I am truly sorry. By believing her lies I let both of us down but you have to know that I never stopped loving you. I never did anything that I thought would hurt you or our marriage. I guess I was wrong about a few things but so were you. You actually believed that I was having an affair. The thought of cheating on you never entered my mind but you didn't trust me enough to talk to me about your suspicions. I was always trying to find a way to make things better for you."

As I listened to her I started to see her side of things. Maybe I should have confronted her when I thought she was having an affair and maybe I should have told her what I found out about Trish and stood beside her while she dealt with it. I let my anger blind me to Megan's needs. I began to realize that while I was trying to find a way to forgive Megan, she was also going to have to find a way to forgive me too.

"It may interest you to know," Megan said, "that Trish moved out of the house that night. I think she moved into the house that Brandon's father owns over on the west side of town. When she left I told her that she owed me for the time she and Brandon spent living with us and, if she didn't pay up, I would sue her. I was so angry that I called Mrs. Preston Matthews and told her about her husband's affair with my mother and that Brandon was his son. She didn't say much on the phone and I have no idea what happened after that. Trish sent me a check for 250 thousand dollars and a note that only said, 'I'm sorry.' I haven't heard from her since and I have no intention of trying to contact her. As far as I am concerned she is dead to me."

'The last time we talked on the phone you asked me if I thought that I could ever forgive you," I said. "After what you have said I wonder if you will ever forgive me."

"I've already forgiven you. I was hurt and angry when you left me but I love you too much to stay angry at you," Megan said. "I just think that it is important for you to understand that this wasn't easy for me either. I know you were hurting when you left me. You felt that I had betrayed you by not standing beside you. It was painful to you because you thought that you had lost me. You may not believe this but for me it was worse. I lost you and my mother the same day. I am not trying to blame you for anything that happened. I just want you to understand that I am hurting too."

Suddenly I didn't want to argue with Megan. The anger and hurt I had felt didn't seem important anymore. The only thing that mattered to me was Megan.

"Where do we go from here?" I said. "Have you thought about that?"

"That is all I have thought about for the last five months," Megan said.

"So, what do you see happening here?

"I see us getting back together," Megan said. "I've found a job at an outpatient surgery center here in Lexington. I was already planning on moving down here next week. That was one of the things that I had wanted to talk about with you on Saturday. Now it's up to you whether I move in here with you or if I have to find somewhere else to live."

"I guess I have no choice," I said. "I almost died without you, literally and figuratively. I need you and I want you to be with me for the rest of my life."

Megan came and sat with me on the sofa and we held each other without speaking for a long time.

"I love you, Warren Butterfield," Megan whispered and then she kissed me on the mouth.

"Be careful," I said. "I have the flu."

"You're forgetting that I'm a nurse," Megan said, "I have had my flu shot." Then she kissed me again and this time I kissed her back.

The End