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89: Desperate Straits
“Stop! Stop! Stop!” Evelyn begged, gasping the words and struggling weakly against his chest. “A—Andrew, you’re hurting me!”
Cursing, he tipped her gently to her feet. “We can’t stay here, darling. You need help. Immediately.”
She clutched at her abdomen, panting at the vague but no longer unbearable pain near her navel that throbbed towards her hips and pelvis and around her back. As he set her on her feet, the pain dulled to a low roar, but she felt so faint and weak, she knew she couldn’t straighten from her doubled over position, let alone walk. Both her arms and legs felt tingly and uncoordinated, like they weren’t fully under her control, and every time the pain surged, she was certain she was going to lose her breakfast.
Andrew caught her as she started to slump to one side, kneeling so he could look into her face. “Do you think you can sit down so I can call an ambulance?”
“I—don’t—know.” Wavering against him, she closed her eyes and fought a
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World of Tomorrow 90: Upturn
Evelyn squinted her eyes against the harsh blinding lights overhead. Her throat felt so dry, scratchy and painful, so much so that when at first she tried to speak, she couldn’t make the sounds come out. She felt so weak, there was no way to lift her head, which throbbed like it had after the one gala when Mr. Valenzuela had plied her with too much champagne. That next morning she’d woken with a miserable headache, much like this one. Or like the ones she’d had when she’d overslept after trying to catch up on previously missed sleep. What didn’t hurt was her body, her abdomen in particular. The knifing pain, both laterally and from front to back through her navel to her spine, that had split through her belly was gone. Mercifully. “Evie?” Lily. Evelyn sighed in contentment, despite the discomfort of being able to hear her best friend, but not lift or turn her head to see her. Her voice came from somewhere near her feet, but still beyond the reach of her visio
World of Tomorrow 91: The Next Monday
Evelyn woke to the soft rap of the nurse on the door, then the woman entered to take her vital signs. Smiling, she dragged herself slowly to a sitting position to make things easier for her caregiver, and whispered a polite, “Hello.” “Good morning.” She shook the mercury down in the thermometer and provided the tired instruction, “Under your tongue. Don’t bite the glass.” Holding her wrist still, Evelyn let her head shift towards the hard chair where Andrew was still sleeping, slumped over uncomfortably to one side, his shoulder hunched to keep his head on the chairback. Keeping her voice low so not to wake him, Evelyn asked the nurse, “What time is it, please?” since there was no clock in her room. Not having one had added exponentially to the sensation that she’d lost time and critical parts of her life. It didn’t help in the least that under morphine, her sleep schedule was erratic, leaving further gaps in her memory since she’d arrived at the hospital. “Just after seven. I’m so
World of Tomorrow 92: More Monday Mayhem
Please God, do not let the moisture seeping into my sleeve be blood. Please, don’t let her be bleeding, Andrew prayed, still trying to rein in his own pain and keep Evelyn off the floor. “Mr. James?” “Tank!” Andrew exclaimed. “Thank God. I need your assistance. Will you help me get Evelyn off the floor, please?” A few seconds after, he felt the driver’s large arms slip gently between him and Evelyn, then her weight was lifted off. “What happened? Who was that woman? Mary!” Rolling to his knees, Andrew staggered to his feet, then glanced at his arm. Blood. He whirled, stumbling towards Evelyn where Tank had laid her on the sofa and crashing to his knees. A heavy stain, bright red against the shimmery white of her nightgown, stretched across her abdomen. “Tank, do you have a pocketknife?” “I have scissors.” Mary hurried forward, pulling a pair of scissors from the front pocket of her dress. Lifting the sticky fabric, Andrew snipped it open, then cut a wide hole in the abdomen of
World of Tomorrow 93: Arrangements
“But—she was just—I don’t understand. How?” Stunned, Evelyn stumbled over her words, completely at a loss for what to say. Charlotte had been an unpleasant woman, but everything about her life seemed pitiful and tragic, even her sudden end. As if her words were the heaviest thing to bear, Andrew closed his eyes. “An automobile accident. Apparently, she had driven herself here. She lost control of the car on the Taconic. Collided with a truck head-on.” “The Taconic State Parkway? But I thought she was in St. Louis?” Confused, her brows drew together. There hadn’t been much time for her to catch up on what had happened during the week she’d spent in the hospital, but she was certain he had told her the private investigators had found Charlotte there and were able to serve the divorce petition. Opening his eyes, he nodded. “She was.” He rose, releasing her hand to come around to his side of the bed. Sitting on the side, he slipped off his shoes and stretched out
World of Tomorrow 94: Hearing
Evelyn watched from the bed as Andrew selected a neatly hung suit from the closet, matching it carefully to a crisply pressed shirt, then selected a suitable tie. As he emerged from the closet, he glanced up at her, freshly washed after showering with his help and propped against the pillows on their bed, combing out her wet hair. He stopped in place, surprised to find her watching him so intently. With an appreciative smile, she let her eyes flick down the naked length of him, then return slowly to his face. Her smile broadened as, detecting the movement of her eyes, he glanced down at his own nakedness. Looking up again, he arched a brow, then flashed her a lazy grin. “I see you must be feeling better.” Still smiling, she replied, “Quite tired still, but not so exhausted that I don’t recognize a pleasant sight when I see one.” Andrew couldn’t recall the last time she’d been so flirtatious, but he wouldn’t complain either. He grinned wickedly. Laying the suit, dress shirt and tie
World of Tomorrow 95: Preparations
“Mr. James!” “Andrew James!” A flurry of jackets and fluttering paper greeted him as he and Alexander descended the courthouse steps. Andrew flinched at a bright camera flash, frowning as white spots blinded parts of his vision. The press. Just what he needed. Alexander clapped an arm around his shoulders. “I warned you,” he said softly. “Just get me out of it.” “Mr. James, is it true your wife was killed after meeting with you?” a reporter demanded, shoving in close with a large cluster of others. “Were you arguing about the divorce?” “Ladies and gentlemen,” Alexander cut in, steering Andrew toward the street and a line of awaiting cabs, “these questions are of no consequence. Mrs. James died tragically yesterday afternoon. Mr. James has just dropped his divorce petition to take care of his wife’s remains and final estate matters.” “Your court documents state Mrs. James has been residing in St. Louis since sometime ove
World of Tomorrow 96: Winding Down
Evelyn recognized the perfunctory knock as Andrew’s before the door opened and he slipped into their bedroom. He hadn’t made it home in time to have lunch with her as he’d hoped. Instead, after taking care of his other errands— which, for some bizarre reason she had yet to hear, included Justin—they’d barely had time to get to the children’s school at the dismissal hour to pick them up. Between Sarah’s mathematics homework—Andrew’s parenting responsibility—and Peter’s reading assignment—Evelyn’s childcare duty—and the myriad of hysterics and tantrums that seemed to go hand in hand with both children’s learning process, then whining over the dinner options, then arguments about baths, then bedtime rituals, there hadn’t been much time for her and Andrew to talk. Whispered in passing, he had mentioned he thought to talk to the children tonight about Charlotte’s death, but she began to wonder if he wasn’t having second thoughts after how exhausting the evening had been.
World of Tomorrow 97: Fitting
As it had the previous morning and early Monday afternoon when Andrew had brought her home, the shower Wednesday morning took longer than Evelyn ever recalled either of them spending in it previously. In fact, she felt confident in saying it took longer than it did when she ran a bath, then washed, then rinsed with clean water. She was pleased to have done without the chair entirely, happy to find herself able to stand for the duration despite the drawn out washing process. And the excessive drying process which inevitably took longer than it needed too. When at last Andrew hung their towels over the rack in the warm and humid bathroom, a lazy smile still curling his lips and his half-lidded mutable blue eyes glittering with green, he wiped the steamed-up crystal face of his wristwatch and commented, “See? We’re finished with time to spare before the children get up to get ready for school.” Evelyn took a step back, her index finger raised between them, as he
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