Come, Josephine

Chapter 51

1928
Nick
   The floor was hard and cold beneath me. I leant against the bed, my head resting on the blankets. The room was warm, but I wondered if Josephine needed the additional warmth. She continued to tremble under the covers, occasionally whimpering in her sleep and the doctor had been of little help. Thankfully, her temperature remained manageable.
   I sat up on the bed, and dared to touch her cheek. She was clammy, and a little pale. It was to be expected, I imagined.
   My chest felt heavy at the thought that Josephine was unwell because of my actions. It was undoubtedly my fault that she was so sick, so unwell.  I should have gone with her, or made sure that she went back to bed. It was my fault. I never should have let her out of my sight. As much as she would have hated me, I wished that I had locked the door and not let her out. That I had refused to let her walk out of my room before I could take it all back.
   I rubbed my thumb along her cheekbone. How many times had I done this in the past? How many times had I comforted her and been her strength and stay?
   As I leaned over Josie her eyelids fluttered open. It took a moment for her eyes to focus, but when she did, they filled with tears.
   My eyes burned too, "I'm so sorry. I'm so, so sorry," my voice cracked, "I didn't mean it, I didn't mean it, Josie. I never wanted you to leave."
   She shook her head, tears falling, her voice nothing but a whisper, "I'm sorry."
   I let my tears fall freely too, and took her hand when she placed it in my lap. I couldn't bring myself to look away from her, as distorted at the tears made her image.
Something lifted off my chest; she had forgiven me. Even though it had been all my fault, and even though I had hurt her.
   I shifted my weight a little on the edge of the bed and at once she startled.
Her hand found my cheek, "please, don't leave me."
   "I won't," I tried to smile, "I'm not going to leave."
   She met my eyes a little nervously, "I was horrible to you- why do you still care about me?"
   "You were panicking, and I wasn't exactly being helpful, Josie," I offered a weak laugh.
   "Still..."
    "And I couldn't stay mad at someone that I love so much- someone that I knew wasn't in a good place."
   "I messed up-"
"I know, I did too."
She settled further into the bed. The tension had left her face, and removed her hand from my cheek. She studied my face for a moment longer, her face filled with curiosity and awareness.
   "Lie with me?"
   I nodded nervously, aware that Jack might walk in at any moment. I sat back on the bed beside her, up against the headboard, and let her rest back on me.
   "Better?" I said. She nodded, "how are you feeling?"
   "Terrible."
   I rubbed my thumb over her arm and she leaned into my touch, "how?"
   "I'm hot and cold all over," she said, "and everything aches."
   I felt her forehead, "you were soaked through- no wonder you feel so sick."
   "You got wet as well."
   "I suppose I was lucky, then."
    She frowned, turning a little to see my face, "you sound like you have a chill."
   "Don't worry, I feel fine," I soothed her, "I'm just glad I got you back here."
   A shiver ran through her. I let us slip further into the bed and pulled the blankets over us. She curled into my warmth, her whole frame shaking. I held her close and didn't move until I was sure that she had fallen asleep.
   I got up carefully and sat on the edge of the bed instead; it was risky to lie down with her in the first place. Instead, I sat beside her, holding her hand. She was so clammy, so sick, but finally asleep.
   I watched her carefully and regretted everything that had lead to her lying in bed. If I could trade places with her, I would.
   The door swung open behind me, and I turned to face the intruder.
    "Where is my granddaughter?"
   Josie's grandmother, who I was yet to meet, stood in the doorway. She was bent over a cane, her hands shaking, but something deep down inside of me was afraid of her. She eyed me up, taking in every inch of me as if I was some sort of wild cat. As if I was a threat to her granddaughter.
   I sprung from the bed and had my hand outstretched in a second, "Mrs Dewitt Bukater, it's nice to meet you at last."
   She didn't take my hand, "You must be the farm boy, I presume?"
    "Of course- yes, ma'am," I said with my hand outstretched to the chair, "why don't you take a seat?"
  "I won't stay for too long," she tutted, "but at my age, I might as well..."
    She took to the chair gracefully and turned to face me, "what's your name?"
   "Nick, Nick Hutson. I'm a friend of Josephine's."
"I can see that," she eyed me disdainfully, "why is my granddaughter incapacitated?"
"She got caught in the rain," I admitted, "she has a fever."
"Silly girl..."
"It happens to the best of us," I forced a smile onto my face, "Josephine was just unfortunate."
"I can see that too-"
Behind me, Josie woke with a cry, "Nick?"
"Hey, I'm here," I was leaning over her in an instant, "you're okay."
"I had a bad dream," confusion filled her face, "and I feel really sick."
I felt her forehead, "alright, my love, just stay calm, you're okay, it was just a dream. You've just got a bit of a temperature."
"I feel awful."
I put my arm around her to offer any comfort that I could, "do you want some water?"
She shook her head. I continued to hold her closely as she rested her head on my chest. She was exhausted, I realised, and fighting to get better. Her trembling had worsened, as had her fever. Tears made her already-clammy skin more damp, and any reassurance was futile. She cried as if she mourning her health; they were tears of nothing but misery and sorrow.
"You act as if you love her," Ruth observed from her chair.
"I do," I admitted, "and I hate seeing her this way."
"It's a shame to see generations of high society come to this," her voice was cool, calculating, "first her mother, now Josephine-"
"I believe Jack makes Rose very happy- they adore each other," I said, looking down at Josie. She was already asleep, "and as for Josephine... I don't think either of us care for society, with all due respect ma'am."
"It's ridiculous."
"It's the truth- why should love be ridiculous?"
"Women shouldn't marry for love," there was a bitter note in her voice.
"Then I'm very sorry, ma'am, that you feel that way," I turned my attention to Josie, helping her into a more comfortable position, "I need to talk to Jack, I'll be back in a moment."
"I'll watch her," she said. As I turned to leave, I saw that she had pulled her chair closer to the bed, and had Josie's hand in her's.