Unspoken

Chapter 13

October 9, 1992

Isabella had gotten sick, vomiting broth all over herself, and the bed. John was out of the house with Brady. He'd taken him out for a walk, because the child had been cooped up inside for days, with only trips out onto the veranda for fresh air. John had worried about leaving Isabella, but Marlena insisted. The cancer was hard on everyone. John needed time with his son without Isabella's death looming over them like a shadow.

Kneeling beside the bathtub, Marlena washed Isabella's body carefully. She'd lost so much weight, her joints were angular, and her eyes looked sunken. Her normally thick brown curls hung limp as her hair fell out more and more every day. Her body was shutting down.

Looking up in confusion, Isabella whispered, "Marlena? Where are we?"

She'd had multiple episodes of confusion that day, and every time it happened Marlena wanted to cry. She washed Isabella's hands saying gently, "We're in Italy. Don't you love Venice?"

"Venice?" Her face took on a wistful look, as she said, "Venice in the springtime is so beautiful. Is it spring?"

"It's fall," Marlena replied. "The air has turned cool, and the leaves are changing colors. Perhaps this evening we can bundle up, and go out on the veranda? I think John arranged for a serenade tour tonight. Would you like that?"

She sighed, and closed her eyes. When she opened them, it was as if the conversation had never taken place. She stared at Marlena with wide eyes. It broke Marlena's heart when Isabella said, "I forgot your name."

"Marlena." She washed Isabella's frail arms, and then gently leaned her forward to slide the cloth over her spine. Marlena's hand shook with emotion when Isabella laid her head on her shoulder, too tired to hold it up.

"That's a pretty name. Marlena," she sighed. "Is Marina coming to see me? She always visits me when I'm sick."

She laid Isabella back gently, lying easily, "She came earlier, but you were asleep. She said she would come back tomorrow."

"Tomorrow," Isabella whispered. "I hope she doesn't argue with father. I hate it when they argue."

Brenda knocked softly on the bathroom door, and then opened it. "I've started the laundry. Are we ready to get out?"

"I've just finished." Marlena's chest was tight, and she knew as soon as Brenda had helped her get Isabella comfortably in bed, she would go to her room and cry. Speaking softly to Isabella, she said, "Isabella? Brenda and I are going to help you out of the bath, and get you dry. Are you ready?" A vacant look came over her, and Marlena nodded towards Brenda. "She's having more episodes of confusion. I understand what's happening, but it's so painful to watch."

They lifted Isabella with care, and Marlena dried her body with soft towels while Branda supported her weight. She told Malena, "This will probably be her last time in the tub. We can do sponge baths from this point. I can feel the weakness in her muscles. They're trembling with exertion."

Sitting Isabella on the side of the bed, Marlena dressed her in a soft flannel nightgown the way a mother dresses her child. Once Isabella was tucked into bed, Marlena whispered, "I need a few moments, Brenda."

"I understand," Brenda said gently. She laid her hand on Marlena's arm. "Take a break. A few hours at least."

Marlena left the room, and quietly went down the hallway towards her own room. The tears were streaming down her face before she even closed the door behind her. She'd agreed to come to Italy to help John, and she knew her being there was a great comfort to him, but perhaps it was too much for her? She was starting to think that without her own support system she might fall apart.