Status: just messing around with ideas
Blame It All on My Roots
Chapter 13
"Magnolia, are you ready?" Dr. Woodburn asked standing by the closed hospital room door. I pulled myself up to sit upright and crossed legged in the bed, "Now or never I guess." "Harry, come on in." She said after opening the door. "Harry, you sit in front of Magnolia, on the bed. What I say may sound strange but its all a part of the exercise," Harry sat directly in front of me, his blue eyes locked on mine. They look so familiar, yet I couldn't quite place them in my mind. "Now, hold hands. Really concentrate, on each other and just talk, Harry you start." Harry's fingers fumbled around the heart rate monitor clamp on my finger, interlocking his with mine. "Mag, love-" "Dr. Woodburn could you give us a private moment?" "Um sure." She said getting up from her seat and going into the hall. "I jus-" "Just kiss me okay?" "Bu-ut you don't even remember me." "Yea, but if there's one thing I learned watching cheesy rom coms on Saturday night its that kisses usually fix stuff and if we're in love then why aren't we doing it?" "Oh you and your movies, love." "Well are ya gonna?" I said pulling off my nasal cannula, "Do it quick cause I don't know what not wearing this will do." He laughed and put his hands on either side of my face and leaned in and gave me a sweet peck on the lips. I felt the corners of my lips spread into a wide smile, as if out of habit. The smile on his face matched mine, something drew me back to him and his lips in another, deeper kiss. "Why'd you kiss me again? Do you remember?" I looked down, "No." "Then why?" "Because it feels right, Harry." "Mag-" "Harry, we'll work on my memory but right now just kiss me again, please." "Mag I love you, and you don't have to say it back, but I've just wanted to say it since the moment you woke up." Everything began to return in my mind. I remembered our first date on the moor, weekends in the country, Scotland, his deployment, everything was there, it was just a bit blurred. "Wales," I squeezed his hand, "I love you." My breathing became shallow and I slipped back on the cannula and after a few deep breaths I fell into his arms.
"Ms. Sterling we've been monitoring your vitals and your strength and we are going to discharge you!" Dr. Woodburn exclaimed as I sat up eating a lack luster breakfast of cold scrambled eggs and jello. I had been cooped up in Saint Mary's Hospital for almost a whole month recovering from the aneurysm and its after effects. Whit had gone back to South Carolina, but Landry and my mom stayed in my apartment, spending the night at the hospital whenever Harry couldn't. Lorraine and the girls visited me multiple times every week and I couldn't wait to go back to work, I had a whole collection of Selfridges custom Victorian gowns and day dresses waiting on me. My phone was flooded with voicemails from all the London tabloids wanting dirt on my relationship and my life. Before leaving I threw on some jeans, wellies for the rain, a slouchy tee, and my trusty Barbour jacket, I felt and looked like myself again. Landry and my mom were waiting in the hall with Dr. Woodburn and we all walked down to the lobby together. I'd be seeing her on a weekly basis to work on rebuilding my memory skills. On the tabloid stand in the lobby I saw my heinous hospital get up and my face practically glued onto Harry's on the front cover of the Sun, the shot had been taken from the open door to my room. The headline read "Mag Clings to Life and Clings Even More to Harry". The last thing I wanted to be was perceived as helpless.
I wanted everything to go back to normal, I changed from flats into heels in my car in the parking garage, like I always had done. I grabbed my purse and attempted to trudge through the flashing cameras to the Institute. There was so much pushing, both physical and mental, constant questions were hurled at me as I walked the block from the garage to the building. "How is sex with Harry?" "Is there going to be a wedding?" "Are you pregnant?" "Who are you Magnolia Sterling?" "Where did you come from?"
Suddenly I remembered why my health had spiraled like it did. I couldn't walk to work without being swarmed and photographed, I felt my face flush and my head began pounding. As soon as I got into the building I retreated to my third floor office hidden amongst the Institute's archives. I laid with my head face down on the desk and tried to stay calm,
"Darling is everything alright?" Lorraine asked leaning on the doorway with Carolina. I shook my head no without looking up. "Mag, it's gonna be alright soon enough some hussie will hop on some one direction kid and the Sun will chase her instead." Carolina tried, but failed to comfort, Lorraine quuickly shooed her out. "You'd think after 5 months they'd lay off. I just want to do my job and go home like everyone else." I whined. "Mag for the three years I've known you, you've never been like everybody else. You're a lot like me, back in the 50s and 60s I couldn't shake the paps in Paris." "Paris?" "Oh darling, Oscar De La Renta was more than a dear friend, he was a brief lover back when we were young." I wrinkled my nose at the thought. She laughed, "Just stick to your roots and be yourself, and stay fabulously dressed, of course."
"Ms. Sterling we've been monitoring your vitals and your strength and we are going to discharge you!" Dr. Woodburn exclaimed as I sat up eating a lack luster breakfast of cold scrambled eggs and jello. I had been cooped up in Saint Mary's Hospital for almost a whole month recovering from the aneurysm and its after effects. Whit had gone back to South Carolina, but Landry and my mom stayed in my apartment, spending the night at the hospital whenever Harry couldn't. Lorraine and the girls visited me multiple times every week and I couldn't wait to go back to work, I had a whole collection of Selfridges custom Victorian gowns and day dresses waiting on me. My phone was flooded with voicemails from all the London tabloids wanting dirt on my relationship and my life. Before leaving I threw on some jeans, wellies for the rain, a slouchy tee, and my trusty Barbour jacket, I felt and looked like myself again. Landry and my mom were waiting in the hall with Dr. Woodburn and we all walked down to the lobby together. I'd be seeing her on a weekly basis to work on rebuilding my memory skills. On the tabloid stand in the lobby I saw my heinous hospital get up and my face practically glued onto Harry's on the front cover of the Sun, the shot had been taken from the open door to my room. The headline read "Mag Clings to Life and Clings Even More to Harry". The last thing I wanted to be was perceived as helpless.
I wanted everything to go back to normal, I changed from flats into heels in my car in the parking garage, like I always had done. I grabbed my purse and attempted to trudge through the flashing cameras to the Institute. There was so much pushing, both physical and mental, constant questions were hurled at me as I walked the block from the garage to the building. "How is sex with Harry?" "Is there going to be a wedding?" "Are you pregnant?" "Who are you Magnolia Sterling?" "Where did you come from?"
Suddenly I remembered why my health had spiraled like it did. I couldn't walk to work without being swarmed and photographed, I felt my face flush and my head began pounding. As soon as I got into the building I retreated to my third floor office hidden amongst the Institute's archives. I laid with my head face down on the desk and tried to stay calm,
"Darling is everything alright?" Lorraine asked leaning on the doorway with Carolina. I shook my head no without looking up. "Mag, it's gonna be alright soon enough some hussie will hop on some one direction kid and the Sun will chase her instead." Carolina tried, but failed to comfort, Lorraine quuickly shooed her out. "You'd think after 5 months they'd lay off. I just want to do my job and go home like everyone else." I whined. "Mag for the three years I've known you, you've never been like everybody else. You're a lot like me, back in the 50s and 60s I couldn't shake the paps in Paris." "Paris?" "Oh darling, Oscar De La Renta was more than a dear friend, he was a brief lover back when we were young." I wrinkled my nose at the thought. She laughed, "Just stick to your roots and be yourself, and stay fabulously dressed, of course."