Chapter 55

I surveyed the food tray. No self-respecting Frenchman would eat this slop. Some bread, yes, butter and jam, yes. No anemic eggs for me. At least the coffee was black and strong.

She slipped through the curtains surrounding my bed.

“Chaton!” I said, so happy to see her.

“Hush, I’m not Chaton. It’s me, Cat.”

“No, no, no, Chaton,” he said with a vigorous shake of his head. “Always my Chaton. I tried to save you!”

She folded her arms and studied him.

“I remember! I was shot and killed trying to save you! I didn’t leave you to die! I had no choice!”

Cat pursed her mouth as if considering his words. “How…”

“My lieutenant shot me.” He grasped her hand. Her fingers felt warm wrapped around his. “I was trying to get you out of the hole when he found me!”

“You were trying to save me?”

“The Germans were coming! I rushed as fast as I could to the camp to free you, but my lieutenant followed me. I tried, believe me, I tried.” His eyes filled with tears.

“Hush,” she said softly. “I didn’t know.”

She paused and smoothed the wet hair on his brow.

“I’m worried about you. I hate to go at a time like this. Will you be okay until I get back?”

“You’ll be back?”

“Yes, this is temporary.”

“You’re leaving me this time?”

She smiled, revealing her perfect teeth. “Ha! You’re funny.”

Nick struggled into a more comfortable position. “Turnabout is fair play, don’t you think?”

She tilted her head to the side as if not understanding his meaning.

“Don’t you remember? You accused me of leaving you to die!”

“Oh, yes.” She gave him a small grimace, remembering their earlier interactions.

“So now you’re leaving me?”

“But not to die,” she said, nodding toward the IV tube and bag of clear liquid hanging over his hospital bed.

“Feels like it!”

“You’re going to be fine and live to fight another day.”

He frowned at her. “Fight?”

“On the football field. In the classroom.” She moved her arms as if she was conducting the orchestra. “To get better. Regain your strength.”

“I guess so. I wish you could stay.” He jerked his hand toward his face, but the IV tugged at his hand and he stopped. “I wish I were out of this damn bed!”

“You need to rest.” She leaned over the bed and kissed him.

“Cat!” Suddenly three people burst into the room. “So nice to see you!” The woman who called herself his mother said. The man he called Father gripped the wheelchair of the older woman called Grandma.

“I’m just leaving,” Cat said, flustered. “I’ve come to say goodbye. We’re moving back to Oregon. But we’ll be back, but I don’t know when.”

“We hope to see you soon,” his mother said, opening her arms and giving Cat a hug.

“You will.” After a smile and a nod, Cat slipped through the opening and was gone.

His parents pulled up chairs and positioned Grandma’s wheelchair by the bed.

“Nick? How are you feeling today?” his father asked.

“Confused,” he mumbled. “Sore.”

“The doctor said that is quite common after anesthesia and would eventually go away.”

He shook his head slightly. “I hope so.”

“You need to concentrate on getting well.”

Nick sank back into the pillow and closed his eyes. They popped open when there was a knock on the door.

“Hi!”

“Emily!” his father said. “So good to see you!”

Nick’s mother gave Emily a hug, and in turn, Emily hugged Grandma.

“I hope it’s okay that I came.” Emily hesitated before approaching Nick’s bed.

Nick managed a weak smile and moved his fingers. “I’m glad you’re here.” His voice was low and hoarse.

Emily touched the rail at the side of Nick’s bed. “I was so worried,” she said. “I’m glad you’re better.”

“Me too!” He stifled a yawn and closed his eyes. Nick slipped into the void of his dreams. Jean Claude seemed to have vanished for now.

The End.

A word about the author…

Sue writes 5-star Lit Pick novels that keep readers of all ages turning pages long into the night. When she’s not writing, she’s reading, attending author events, or walking her dogs. She has two children and four grandchildren. Snack wise, Sue is a salty-type gal, but wouldn’t say no to a chocolate kiss or two! She’s not sure she’s a reincarnated former novelist, but if she was, she’d want to be Jane Austen, Mary Shelley, or Emily Bronte. www.scduganauthor.wixsite.com/mysite