TITLE: Unbearable Brightness (pt. 5)
AUTHOR: Naomi Pardue
GENRE: SL (mostly)
RATING: PG (mostly)
TIMELINE: Mid-S11.
DISCLAIMERS: They own it, I don't.
Meanwhile ... on St. Barts ...
Sam squinted into the sunshine. Alex was walking along the edge of the
water, bending down every few steps to pick up a shell. He looked up at
her and waved, and she waved back. "Don't go in any deeper than
your knees!" she called. Alex nodded vigorously and returned to his
shell hunting, and Sam returned to her seat on the shady veranda.
She had lived a lot of different places in her 27 years, but she'd
never spent the holidays anywhere quite like this. She could get used
to this. She could definitely get used to this.
Footsteps behind her, and a light kiss to the top of her head. "So,
what shall we do today?" John asked.
"What did you have in mind?"
"Oh ... we could swim ... or walk on the beach ... or sit in the
shade and drink cute pink drinks with little umbrellas in them ... or
go down to the resort spa and get a massage ... or eat lobster ... or
take a long nap ... or take a long nap together."
"That sounds an awful lot like what we did yesterday. And the day
before." Sam laughed.
"Getting to strenuous for you? If it is, we could always omit the
walk on the beach."
"Nope. Sounds just about perfect." She took another slice of mango
from the platter. "I could definitely get used to this."
"Get used to what? The view? The climate? The lobsters?"
"All of the above. And the mangos. And being a lady of leisure. And,
of course, having you all to myself."
"Not quite all to yourself," John said. "There's a certain 10
year old boy in the equation."
"Ok, I'll share you with Alex. But not with a bunch of sick
people."
John shook his head. "Sorry, as much as I enjoy spoiling you, I
don't think I'm cut out for the life of the idle rich. I'm going
to be climbing the walls before the week is out. And so will you."
"There's a hospital here."
"How's your French?"
"Nonexistent. But you speak French. You could teach me."
It was John's turn to laugh. "You'd be surprised at how little
French I speak. I managed amazingly well with 'merci' and
'bonjour' ... and a few useful phrases like 'your daughter has
malaria,' and 'you must boil the drinking water ...' neither of
which are likely to be very useful here. There's no malaria on St.
Barts. Besides, treating tourists for sunburn and overindulgence in
lobster and cute pink drinks is not what I went to medical school
for."
John poured himself a glass of orange juice and carried it the edge of
the veranda. As she had been doing a few minutes earlier, he stared out
towards the water, but Sam knew he wasn't watching Alex. He just
swirled the juice absently in his glass and gazed out, just as
absently.
After a long minute of silence Sam finally asked, "You miss it,
don't you?"
"Work?"
"No, Africa."
A momentary smile. "Yeah, I do. I miss the work I was doing there ...
the chance to really make a difference in people's lives, the feeling
I had every day of really being needed. It's different there ... and
it's addictive." Another smile. "But, like most addictive things,
there was also a downside. I don't miss the complete lack of basic
comforts. And I don't miss the helplessness - knowing every day
that I could do so much more if I just had a few more supplies ... that
my patients were dying for lack of basic medicines ... knowing that the
smallest suburban Walgreen's was better stocked that the largest
hospital in Kisangani. Knowing that all. My knowledge and skills
weren't enough." Softly. "That was hard." He turned to face
her. "And don't worry, I'm not going back. I'm needed here now.
You need me, and Alex needs me, and that's enough for me. Besides,
it's gotten to be pretty dangerous over there."
"Gotten to be? You mean it wasn't dangerous before?"
"It's worse now. Hard to believe, isn't it?" John smiled again,
and his words were light, but the troubled look had returned to his
eyes. Sam had only a moment to see it before he turned away from her
again and went to perch on the railing.
"What's wrong?" Sam asked after a moment.
"Nothing."
"Are you thinking about Luka?"
"Let's go down to the beach," John said, setting his glass down.
"I promised Alex that I'd build sandcastles with him today." He
started for the French doors, but Sam moved to block his path. From
this point of view, she could see the strain of the faked smile.
"You didn't answer my question," she said quietly.
"Something's wrong. Tell me."
John sighed. "I'm just feeling a little bit guilty, I guess."
"About what?"
"This." John made a sweeping gesture that took in the shady
veranda, the sparkling Caribbean waters, the platter of fruit on the
table. Even her. Sam waited patiently and, after a minute, John went
on. "It doesn't seem right that I should have all this ... that I
should be so happy. Luka and Susan are my best friends. And now Luka is
dead and Susan is grieving ... and I'm here enjoying myself ... and
feeling happier than I have any right to be. I wasn't thinking about
Luka, but maybe I should have been. Maybe I should give Susan a call
.... see how she's doing."
"If Susan needs you, she has your number." Sam shook her head.
"You are allowed to be happy ... you need the chance to be happy.
John, you have done so much for them. You risked your life to save Luka
when you were in Africa together ... and you went on risking your life
to help your patients there. However dangerous it was then compared to
now ... it was dangerous enough. Seeing what happened to Luka is proof
enough of that.
"You know ... I don't for one minute begrudge you the time you've
spent with Luka and Susan. They're your friends ... they're my
friends too. I was glad we were able to help when they needed us. But
now, Alex and I need you. You just said so yourself. We need you to be
there for us, and we need for you to be happy. I know that Luka would
want that for you, and I know that Susan still does. You need to mourn,
and to feel bad about what happened to Luka, but you also need to think
about the three of us, about the fact that, in six months we'll be
married ... and about our future together. That's what's important
now. Ok?"
"Ok," John said, and this time his smile was genuine. Now let's
go build those sandcastles."
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