Façade

Chapter 2

Emily had always hated hospitals. For her, they signified death, and separation. The beep of the machines, the swish of the doors, the squeak of the wheels on the beds, and the gurneys, the howls of pain and sadness, the tears of the bereaved masses moistening the linoleum floors. The quick, anxious footsteps of doctors rushing from place to place with bad news to doll out, the low hum of the luminescent lights, far too bright, and flickering every minute or so, only confirming to the inhabitants how slowly time passes in this house of death. Being there only made her uncomfortable, and upset. This was the setting, where her father told her that her mother was gone. And now, now there was 'troubling news' it can't be good. She needed to stay strong. Daniel, her beloved, sweet, caring, thoughtful, Daniel, was falling apart, right before her very eyes.

'Yes, doctor? Your news?' said Emily, calmly. Daniel, at this point, was holding her hand in both of his, and had it held up to his lips. He was holding it so tightly, his knuckles were white, and Emily couldn't feel her fingers. Heavy breathing was all that could be heard above the deathly silence.

The room was unlike a normal hospital room. The room itself was bigger, so was the bed, and there was another on the other side of the room. The window took up most of the wall opposite the door. She had to admit, the view was beautiful. The silhouette of the Paris skyline was breathtaking. She supposed she hadn't been there more than a couple of hours, yet there were flowers on the light wood bedside table. The wallpaper was fashioned with pink pinstripes. It was intended to make the room look cheerier, to no avail. It all worried Emily. Were they trying to cushion some awful news? Did she have cancer? Was she dying? What was going on? Visions of her own funeral flashed before her mind. Visions of her lying on her deathbed. In a room not dissimilar to the one she was in now. In hindsight, nothing could possibly have adequately prepared her for the news she was about to hear.

The doctor continued 'Well, Mrs. Grayson. You're anaemic. That's why you fainted. But when we ran your bloodwork, we detected the hCG hormone.' Emily and Daniel looked at him, questioningly, so he continued. 'Mrs. Grayson, you're pregnant. Congratulations!' The doctor shot them a warm smile. It all made sense. She was in the maternity ward. Emily looked at Daniel, shocked. The doctor left. Daniel turned to Emily 'Are you happy?' she asked him. 'What do you think?' he replied, the biggest grin she'd ever seen him wear was building on his face. He took her in his arms. 'Correction: the day you said yes to my proposal was the third greatest day of my life. This. Right here. Right now. This is the first. Now I really am the happiest man on earth!' Emily began to tear up, and he said 'we're going to be a family!'

They cherished the peace and quiet of that hospital room. They knew that the next time they'd be in a setting like this - the pink pinstriped wallpaper, now she came to think about it, it was rather cheery. It's your mood that makes all the difference- they'd have their own little baby. This thought frightened her. She couldn't shake the mental image of herself, in the dream, with three children. She needed to get over it. It was just a dream. She needed to. For her sake. For Daniel's sake. For the baby's sake.

Indeed, Emily Grayson had always hated hospitals, ever since she was a little girl, it had been a place of sadness, separation, death. But now, there was new hope, and she realized that it was also a place of joy, togetherness, and new life. She had never ventured over to this ward on her numerous visits to the hospital, but if she had, it might have changed her opinion. But then again, it's only when you experience something for yourself, that you can fully understand it, and appreciate the situation of those that face it. This lesson, Emily Grayson was about to learn for herself.

© Sarah Egan 2013 - 2014 This story is subject to copyright and may not be copied or reproduced without the express permission of the author.