This is another post in a series, about a woman named Amara. Every Friday I will post another segment in this story.
As Joy stood back up from kissing her sleeping mother on the forehead, she felt a hand on her back.
“I left as soon as I got your text,” came Joe’s voice before Joy had managed to turn around. He awkwardly pulled her into his arms and held her tightly, as she tried to piece together this rare expression of affection, her own arms dangling at her sides.
“Well this is odd. What is up?” Joy’s thoughts became audible words before she had a chance to edit them. Joe’s body stiffened in response.
Oh Joy, I so wanted to come home and be wanted, be needed by you.
“How is your mother doing? What happened? The last I heard was from your email saying that you and the girls were going to spend the night at her house” Joe tried to hide his hurt.
“Well, that was the plan. But when we got there …” Joy’s voice trailed off, as she glanced at her mother, sleeping peacefully in the hospital bed, as if to remind herself that the nightmare of her being missing was truly over. “… when we got there, she was gone. We looked everywhere imaginable, I called the police. Then I remembered the clearing and they found her there. She was rushed to the hospital, and has been here ever since.” Just saying the words, for the first time since it all had occurred, made the weight of all she had been through lay firmly on Joy’s shoulders. Suddenly, she was overcome with fatigue.
“Joy? Joy?” Joy could hear Joe’s voice, but it was drifting so far away. The next thing she remembered, she was lying on the small sofa bed in her mother’s room, with the face of a nurse too close to her own face. “Mrs. Jackson? You are in the hospital. Your husband is right here.”
“What … what happened?” Joy was coming to, but not sure what had occurred.
“It looks like you fainted, Mrs. Jackson. Have you had anything to eat or drink today?”
Joy struggled to remember what day it was, let alone what she had eaten. “I really do not remember,” she answered honestly.
“Mr. Jackson, could you please get a glass of water for your wife?”
Joe nodded, and moved towards the plastic jug of water on Amara’s bed table, filling the plastic glass, and returning it to the nurse.
Just then the door swung opened, and in walked a physician. “So what have we here?”
An hour later, Joy was already curled up, in bed. A cup of tea on her bed table, and Joe beside her.
“I can’t do this alone, Joe. I need your help,” Joy said, looking straight ahead.
Joe had never heard such vulnerability in Joy’s voice. She was the original Miss. Independent. Joy needed no one, ever, least of all him. Maybe her fainting in the hospital had something to do with it. He felt such fear and concern as she lay on that sofa bed in her mother’s hospital room. All of a sudden what was most important to Joe was more clear than at any other time in his life. He loved Joy, and he wanted nothing more than to be loved back by her. Joe was determined to do whatever it took to earn her love back.
Joe stared into Joy’s eyes, “Joy, I am here. You have me at your side, and I am not leaving … ever. I am so sorry for not being here for you in the past, I promise to do better.”
Tears fell from Joy’s eyes, and fell into Joe’s arms.
itsawonderfilledlife 