101 Mystery Stories

87 Doctor’s Orders John F. Suter

This pain, the pain is everywhere. No, not everywhere, but I throb in the places where there is no real pain. And now it is only an ache and an exhaustion, but it seems as if there is no time, no space, nothing but this. But I am a little stronger than I was. So little. But I am stronger. I have to get well. I intend to get well. I will get well.

“Mr. Shaw, I think she’ll come out of it all right. As you know, it was either your wife or the baby, for a while. But she’s improved, I assure you. Of course, there will always be that weakness which we can’t correct.”

“I understand. Just to have her well again is all I care about.”

I had better open my eyes. Jeff isn’t here. I can’t sense him. But I can stand the white room now. I no longer have a wish to die. Even though he didn’t live. I could grieve and grieve and grieve, and I wanted to when Jeff first told me. But there is no strength in that sort of grief. I will get well.

“You did tell her that the baby died?”

“Yes, doctor. It was hard for her to take at first. Very hard. Then I told her that it had been a boy. That pleased her, in spite of — of what happened.”

There. The world is back. So much sunshine in the room. So many flowers. I wonder if Jeff—

“Did you tell her that the child is already buried?”

“Not yet. If you’re sure that she’s stronger, I’ll tell her today.”

“You don’t think she’ll hold it against you for going ahead with the funeral, Mr. Shaw?”

“Jessie is very level-headed. Doctor. She’ll understand that we couldn’t wait. And — if you don’t think it’s out of style to say so — we love each other.”

I’m sure Jeff has done whatever is best. If only it — he — had lived until I could have seen him... How long have I been here? Where is Jeff? Is he being sensible, as I begged him to be? Is he at work, so that he won’t endanger his job, the job that’s so important to him? Oh, I do love him, and I do so want to give him fine children.

“Perhaps, then, Mr. Shaw, it would be better for you to tell her the rest of it than for me to do it. It might be easier for her to believe someone who loves her. Sometimes the patient thinks the doctor doesn’t know as much as she herself does.”

“That part won’t be easy.”

I hope the children will look like Jeff. I’m not ugly, but I’m so — plain. Jeff has the looks for both of us. That’s one of the reasons they all said he was only after my money. But he’s refused to let me help him. He’s independent. He keeps working hard managing the sporting-goods department, when neither of us would ever have to work again, if we didn’t want to. I must get well, for his sake. I will get well.

“Easy or hard, Mr. Shaw, it has to be done. Someone has to tell her. It will come best from you. She must never try to have a child again. Never. It will kill her. Make no mistake about it — having another child will kill her.”

“I’ll take the responsibility. Doctor. You needn’t say a thing to her. I think I can convince her. Perhaps I can even persuade her to move away for a while, so that old associations won’t keep haunting her.”

I’m glad that I made my will in Jeff’s favor before I came to the hospital. He doesn’t know about it, and it wasn’t necessary, as it turned out. But I’m glad. He’s been so good to me that now I’m sure of him...

The door swung inward, silently. She turned her head, slowly, and a tired smile crept across her white face. A tall young man with crinkled blond hair was in the doorway.

“Jeff.”

He was at her bedside, kissing her palm, “Jessie.”

When they both could speak, she gripped his fingers. “Jeff, I’ve been lying here thinking. Everybody has troubles of some kind or other. We can overcome this. I’m going to get strong, fast. Then we’re going to have another baby, just as quickly as we can. Aren’t we?”

He smiled proudly. The truth was exactly the right answer.

“We certainly are, sweetheart. We certainly are.”