Chapter 32: Heartfelt Conclusion — Part 1
Crossed Paths, Part 1
Close to a month is lost before the patient is recovered enough to talk, or perhaps it takes that long for Kia to build up the courage to talk to her. She has put Jenna in charge of cleaning the woman’s wounds, and tending her basic needs. Today, the stitches need to come out, and though Jenna is perfectly competent for such a task, Kia takes on the responsibility herself. There are a hundred and forty stitches total, at least on the surface. Under the skin, there were four times as many. The woman hasn’t spoken much since the incident, and the quiet nature isn’t something that sits well with Kia. Kia is gruff when she speaks, and having been told by Jon that she has the bedside manner of an angry bulldog, Kia is trying to be nice.
“That kid, he’s doing good, going to be up and about in another week. Not really your son, right?” Kia asks, not sounding gentle.
“He’s mine, got him unexpectedly, though.” The woman says.
“My girl’s got a thing for him. He’s not strung to somebody, is he?”
“No. He’s a good boy.” The woman’s voice is hoarse, and Kia is suddenly worried.
“What every mother would say. He’s a flirt, like every other man.” Kia pulls a tongue depressor out. “Open your trap.”
The woman complies, and Kia looks deep into the back of her throat. “You’re throat doesn’t have an infection. Are you thirsty?”
“No.” She squeaks a little, like a frog. “The Storm. It bit me.”
“You going to tell me your name?” Kia asked.
“I was coming back to you.” The woman says first.
“Your name?” Kia repeats, sounding like she might just bite off the other woman’s nose.
“Regina Caspaire.”
“I know that.” Kia says suddenly, losing her professional demeanor. “You hurt me.”
“I missed you.” Regina’s ears are starting to ring, she’s scared, suddenly.
“Then what the fuck took you so long?” Kia asks, unable to think of anything else to ask.
“I was being hunted. I had to lure the hunters away from the one I loved.” Gina says. “It worked, but they were always watching you, I could never get close. Then I got old, and ugly, and then the Storm came and burned my voice. Then I found out you lived, and I had to come see you.” Regina is crying now. “I knew you would hate me. I was such a fool to come here. As soon as the boy is healed . . . As soon . . . I won’t stay if . . . it hurts you . . . ” Gina starts to squeak, she can’t talk anymore, her voice is gone, so she starts to curl in and sob, holding herself and rocking.
Kia is trying not to cry, failing at it. “I said you hurt me. I didn’t say you’re hurting me now, stupid woman.”
She never thought she could turn around and forgive Regina just like that, but it is exactly what she is doing. The circuits of thought leading to it are both painful and irrational, and the end result is inevitable. Seeing Gina in tears, her voice shattered, her body wracked with pain and desperation, Kia knows she can do only one thing. She sits down quietly, the bed sinking a little under her weight, and warps her arms around the older woman, holding her. She is quiet as Gina cries on her shoulder, and all Gina can say is, “I’m sorry” over and over again. It takes about three or four apologies before Kia can actually understand what she’s saying, and the horrible sound of her shattered voice starts to degrade from there.
Gina cries herself into silence, in the course of about an hour, and in that time, Kia has made a decision. The woman in her hands looks frail, but under the skin is muscle, tightened by a life in the woods, a life of hiding and shuffling in the shadows, one filled with months without the sight of another human face, one constantly at the door of death. Kia makes a decision, as quickly as she makes any decision in her life. This woman made sacrifices, terrible sacrifices, and Kia can feel the results of those sacrifices with every ounce of her being, from the powerful muscles of a hunter, to the wracking sobs of her lost love. Kia will not cry, but she knows the need to, and she gives Gina a chance to stop her tears before acting on her decision.
“Jenna!” She shouts, startling every living person but Gina, who is clinging to her as if Kia is the last standing tree in a hurricane.
Jenna hurries to the bed, through the standing curtains holding out the site of the world. “Yessam?” Jenna asks timidly.
“This is your namesake, a Miss Regina Caspaire. She is ready to leave now. She will be staying with us, at the cabin. Treat her like she is an old friend, please. Put her to rest in my bed.”
“Yessam.” Jenna says, leaving to get Gina some clothes.
