is no dearer, sweeter person in the whole, wide world, than you, dear Emily. I love you so much I want to say all the right words, words poets write and talk about, but I don’t know them. Please, know in your heart that I love you more than life itself. I never dreamed anyone could love me the way you do. Know that love is returned in the same way.
You are my life, my reason for being. Without you I would not be where I am today and where we will both be tomorrow and all the tomorrows yet to come. I am going to dedicate my life to healing the sick and to making you happy. The day will come when I can give you everything your heart desires for the rest of my days.
These last years have been hard, especially on you, Emily. We’re going to see daylight soon. I promise to spend the rest of my life making it up to you for all your sacrifices.
I had to write this letter on this last night before we become one in every sense of the word. Thank you, Emily, for being you, for loving me. I will love you forever and ever. My heart is yours, dear Emily.
“That’s beautiful,” Aggie said.
“I’m going to read this every day of my life even though I know the words by heart. When I’m old and gray and sitting in a rocking chair with my grandchildren at my feet, I’m going to show them this and tell them that true love is worth waiting for, worth all the sacrifices that need to be made.”
Ian and Emily settled into their new life with gusto. Atlanta, Georgia, was far enough away from New Jersey that neither Emily nor Ian worried about family visits. Ian settled into the Emory School of Medicine while Emily got a job working at a tacky lounge called Sassy Sallie’s.
Ian studied. Emily worked. The only thing breaking the monotony was Ian’s days off, which were few and far between. Emily found herself working double shifts just so she wouldn’t have to be alone in the tiny apartment they called home. They were making it, though, unlike some of Ian’s married friends who couldn’t tolerate the long separations, the constant workload, and lack of companionship. Three couples had separated, the wives filing for divorce. At each new announcement by Ian, Emily hunkered down and worked more because of the worry in Ian’s eyes. “It won’t happen to us, Ian, I swear it won’t.” Constantly she reassured her husband that they were different and they both understood what was involved when they got married. “I want you to succeed, to fulfill your dream, and then I’ll get my turn.” Ian always smiled when she said that. The smile, the warmth in his eyes, was what kept her going. Until the day she started to feel ill.
“Listen, Emily, you look dead on your feet,” Carrie, the night hostess, said gently. “I’ve been watching you since yesterday. Go home and get in bed. You’re the only one who hasn’t come down with the flu, so it’s your turn. Sallie isn’t going to say anything. You’re the best waitress she’s ever had and she doesn’t want to lose you. You look flushed to me. Bet you have a fever. Get your stuff together and go home. We aren’t that busy. Look, the most you could make by staying till the end of your shift is maybe another ten bucks. Those guys drinking at the table in the corner are not big spenders. Go on, I don’t want to hear another word. Call in tomorrow and let me know how it’s going. If you can’t make it, don’t worry about it. Sallie has some reserves for the breakfast trade.”
Emily sighed. “I guess you’re right. Explain to Sallie, okay.”
By the time Emily arrived at the small apartment, chills racked her body. She made tea but could barely drink it, so she swallowed four more aspirin and crawled into bed, but not before she slipped into a warm flannel nightgown and piled all four blankets on the bed. It wasn’t until she was dozing off that she remembered that Carrie had slipped a bottle of brandy from the bar into her purse. She should have taken a few swigs.
Exhausted, she slipped into sleep.
The alarm shrieked at four-forty. Emily struggled to reach the button to turn it off so Ian could have an extra hour’s sleep. She always woke him when she was ready to go out the door. Not only did she wake him, she handed him his first cup of coffee for the day.
She knew when her arm refused to move that she was sick—really sick. Whatever it was she had, she’d felt it coming on the past two days. Her ears ached, her throat hurt, and her eyes were watering so badly she could barely see the numerals on the clock. She tried to move, but she was so cold her teeth chattered. The flu? Who got the flu in May? Nobody but her.
“Ian, wake up. I’m sick.” Ian mumbled something and then moved away from her. Without his body warmth she felt colder. Her teeth continued to chatter. “Ian, wake up. You have to call and tell my boss I won’t be in.” Ian bolted upright in the bed.
“What time is it? My God, it’s quarter to five. You’re going to be late, Emily.”
“I’m sick, Ian,” Emily croaked. “God, I can’t get warm and I have a fever. Will you get me some aspirin?”
“Jeez, Emily, you’re burning up.”
“I felt it coming on. I’ve been taking aspirin for the past two days.”
“That’s just like you, Emily, trying to doctor yourself. This damn flu is going to lay you up for two weeks. We’re going to lose ten days’ pay. That was dumb of you, Emily.”
Emily buried her face in the pillow. Was it her fault she was sick? Probably. Everything was her fault. Ian was right, it was stupid of her to try and medicate herself just to save ten dollars. “I’m sorry,” she said. “It was stupid. Don’t be cross with me, Ian.”
“I’m not cross with you. Look, put this heavy sweatshirt on and these wool socks. I’ll ask the super if he can give us a portable heater. They turned the heat off last week. The A/C is on now. We don’t have any more blankets, do we?” Emily shook her head. “I’ll fix you a toddy. Maybe you can sweat it out. What else can I do?”
“Call Sallie’s.”
“Right. I’m going to call in too. I’m staying here with you,” he said, his face a mask of worry. “You never get sick, Emily. In all the years I’ve known you only had one cold.” He took her temperature then looked at her, startled. “God, Emily, it’s a hundred and three. I’m going to call a doctor.”
“No. You’re almost a doctor. Just take care of me. There’s nothing they can do for the flu and you know it. Fluids, rest, and aspirin for the fever. Trust me, Ian. Don’t call a doctor.” All she could think of was the ten days’ pay they were going to lose.
“For now, but if your fever doesn’t come down, I’m calling a doctor,” Ian fretted. “Soup, do we have canned soup? I’ll get some when I go out. I was going to make you a hot toddy. We have brandy, don’t we? Coffee for me, maybe some toast. Do you want some?”
“Ian, go to class. Call me during the day.”
“Absolutely not. I’m staying right here with you.”
By midmorning Emily’s fever was down a degree. Ian had used the last of the alcohol to rub her down three different times. She was on her second toddy when he announced that he had to go to the drugstore for more alcohol and aspirin.
Emily could barely keep her eyes open. “Swear to me you won’t call a doctor. I’m feeling better, really I am. By this evening my fever will be down. I mean it, Ian.”
“What the hell kind of doctor am I going to make if I listen to you, Emily? You need a qualified physician. This is home care at its worst.”
