Audrey Hepburn's Pearls: Part I

Chapter 77.2: 1968, Georgina

Chapter 77.2: 1968, Georgina

The early morning was a rude awakening, having the need to go to the bathroom but not really being able to do anything about it. I laid in bed, extremely uncomfortable. But I realized after a while that nobody was going to come. This sent a troubling feeling down my body, memories coming back with every second passing by.

Every part of me wished that Frankie was here with me, to bring me up out of bed and help me this morning. To tell me it would be okay, the pain would be over soon. But he wasn't here. I had to face that and it was extremely hard going.

For a while, I laid propped up on my elbows just preparing myself for the inevitable. But then I realized how impossible it would be for me to do this all by myself. So many things to do, to prepare.

For one, how was I supposed to get up on the lifesaver myself? How was I going to stand up...the walker was at the foot of the bed. Feeling defeated and not wanting to admit how helpless I was, I stared at the walker, so close yet too far away. This was as far as I could go. 

I began to think about Paulie, but could tell he wasn't in the apartment. Where he was, I didn't know and right now it didn't really matter.

But then a saving grace. A sneeze from the kitchen. A loud one, unabashed. It made me jump, but not scared. I knew this sneeze too well. How many times had he been sick with me in the cold? 

"Bless you!" I called out, hoping this would be enough to get his attention. He was in the kitchen afterall, just a doorway away. But what was he doing here? 

"You awake, rebenok dushka?" Sasha called. I heard shuffling paper. Was he reading the newspaper? What time was it? Oh god I really had to pee. No time for thinking about these things.

"I gotta pee!" I cried out, unashamed just like him. There wasn't any reason to be bashful. We knew each other too intimately. But intimate. A rolling blush came over my face anyway, making me too hot under the wool covers. I was fully awake now, and I didn't like it. Realizing these things. 

Sasha didn't know about the surgeries I'd had. Or did he know...the things I didn't know were eating away at me. Had he been told? What did he know? He was here now...had somebody told him what had happened to me...? 

Suddenly I didn't want him to help me. I wanted to go over to the bathroom myself, wrapped in the blankets so he couldn't see me at all. But he was already at the doorway. And what a sight. My eyes bugged. I hadn't seen him this way in so long.

His natural, long, dark auburn hair was unkempt, a lot longer than I remembered it. It had to be a little past his shoulders, but it was hard to tell with the natural waves. His large, walnut shaped deep blue eyes like Bette Davis' were staring at me with gentleness, and he sniffled with his perfectly sloped nose. He didn't have a spot of make-up on or product in his hair. He looked like he had slept here, maybe. 

"Good morning, sunshine," he said sweetly in the doorway, his Russian accent thicker than ever. I realized by staring at him just how long it had been since I'd seen him last. We were always not seeing each other for so long. Why was that? But oh, I knew why this time and it sent great shame through me. It made me fold up painfully in on myself. All the memories coming back, seeing him the last time in one of his Madame Salem outfits, entertaining Cha Cha. I'd scolded him last time. 

"Good morning," I repeated after him, completely embarrassed as he encountered the bed. 

None of these memories looked like they were on his face, though. What was he thinking? And what was he doing? I watched him roll the wheelchair up to the bed. I gripped the blankets, knowing what was coming next. Too much embarrassing pain.