Knight In Black Leather by Gail Dayton (people reading books .txt) 📗

it's just a little more--" he held up his fingers a tiny space apart to show how little, "--than a month since my birthday."

"Ah." Marilyn's smile flickered and vanished.

Something was definitely wrong, and Eli didn't have a clue what it might be. "Marilyn?" he began.

"So, are we going to visit Fitz or what?" she said brightly, so obvious about changing the subject that Eli didn't dare persist.

Sixteen

***

They had Fitz in a special heart section, but not isolated in the ICU, so Eli was allowed to go in. Pete had to wait outside the floor and Marilyn stayed with him.

Fitz looked as big as ever, stretched out in the hospital bed, but somehow frail at the same time. Like his bones were swallowing up the rest of him. He had tubes in his nose for breathing and wires going every which direction, a vat creature who needed to go back in the vat to finish curing.

"Hey, Fitz." Eli made a fist and touched it to the curled fingers of his old friend. "What happened to you?"

"What happened to you,comin' in here all bunged up?" His cigarette rasp was a wisp of its old self, words slurred as if his mouth had trouble forming them.

Eli laughed. "I told you already. What do the doctors say?"

"Doctors." Fitz tried to spit but his lips didn't seem to want to work right. "What do they know?"

"Plenty, I guess, since you're still causing trouble," Eli retorted.

Fitz's laugh was a wheeze of sound fading into a cough. "I guess you're right. Though why they'd bother savin' a useless old man like me--"

"Not useless." Eli gripped his friend's hand. "Never useless. So, what happened?"

"Had a damn stroke, is what. Not a bad one, according to the doc."

"So how bad is it, your stroke?"

"Can't talk right. Right leg won't hold me. Scared the kid half to death when I fell down. He okay?"

"Yeah, he's fine." Eli paused. "I told him."

"How'd he take it?"

"Okay. Not great at first but--" He made a face. "Honestly, I don't have a clue. We're taking him back to Pittsburgh."

"Like that, is it?" Fitz waggled one eyebrow. He'd never been able to move just one before, but the right one now lay slack.

Eli frowned. "I guess."

"Listen, boy, if you find a good woman, you grab on with both hands and don't ever let go. My Sunshine and me, we had a lot of good years. I always hoped you'd find the same thing."

Eli shook his head. That wasn't in his future. A few good weeks, maybe even months--he'd have to be satisfied with that much. "Listen, Fitz, do we need to stick around? You don't need to be alone here."

"Won't be. My daughter's coming." Fitz grinned at Eli's surprise. "Didn't know I had any kids, did you?" The old man's breath turned to a quick pant and his color paled, machines whooshing and burbling around them.

It made Eli nervous. "Take it easy, old man. Don't get yourself all excited."

Fitz nodded, concentrating on breathing for a while. "Brain's fucked. Heart's not so hot either," he whispered. His eyes drifted shut, drugs and machines taking over.

"You're wrong there, old man," Eli whispered back. "You got the best heart ever was."

He gripped Fitz's hand tight, watching him sleep. "I'd be dead now if not for you," Eli said, softer than a whisper. "Thanks." He gave the hand in his a squeeze and was startled when Fitz squeezed back.

"Welcome," the old man said without opening his eyes.

Eli got to stand there a few moments longer, before the nurse came in to shoo him out.

In the waiting room, Pete was chattering away. Marilyn's eyes had glazed over, listening to him. Eli paused in the entrance to look more closely. Was that look because of Pete's noise, or was it due to something else? Something was wrong here. But what?

Hospitals maybe? Her husband had died in a hospital. But she'd spent all those hours with him in the ER and hadn't blinked an eye. He couldn't figure it out.

"Eli, hey, Eli--" Pete called out when he spotted him, then paused. "I mean, hey, Dad, how's Fitz?"

"He had a stroke, but he's going to be okay." Eli rubbed at the burning feeling in his chest, the one that started up when Pete made his correction.

Marilyn stood up, smiled. "I'm glad."

She was like some computer animation, following a program but nobody home inside. Eli kissed her cheek, but didn't expect that to change things. He was no Prince Charming and his kisses were just kisses, not magic.

"You okay to drive?" he asked, when they reached the car.

Marilyn blinked at him. She was doing that a lot. "Of course. Why wouldn't I be?"

"I--You seem--" He couldn't explain it, not with her looking at him like he was the one who'd lost his mind. "No reason. Never mind."

He directed her to Fitz's place and used his old key to go in and gather Pete's things. Pete helped, with more enthusiasm than actual assistance. Marilyn...mostly watched.

Like she didn't want to touch anything. Now and again, she'd pick something up--a T-shirt that had missed the suitcase when tossed, or a battered ice skate--but she put them down again almost as soon as she picked them up. As if it hurt her to touch them, like they burned or something.

Eventually they got all Pete's stuff cleared out. Eli locked up and crutched his way out to the car. "Ready?"

Pete fell asleep before they hit the outskirts of Erie, sprawled out in the back seat like he didn't have a care in the world. Maybe, for once, he didn't.

Marilyn didn't talk. Not one single word for the whole two and a half hours it took them to drive from Erie back to Pittsburgh. It wasn't like her. Eli had been on a couple of road trips with her now, and though she often fell silent for long stretches of time, she was never, ever this quiet.

He tried several times to start a conversation, talking, asking questions, making jokes, whatever