by Kara Peterson

It had been easier when there was something she could personally do to assist him. Fetching cold compresses, bringing him endless cups of tea that chilled before he ever tasted them, and taking his temperature again and again gave her a sense of purpose. Suddenly it occurred to her exactly how frightened she was. In his other form, illness had never been a consideration where Barnabas was concerned. But in the here and now, he was most certainly in the same danger any other man would encounter from so high a fever. Julia’s eyes flashed over the dim walls where a few candles had melted too far and ceased to burn. She could no longer deceive herself with the inane thought that Barnabas’ illness was not a threat to him. Pursing her lips, she searched through her bag once more. No miracle cures there. No new ideas. The fate of the man she loved now lay in the hands of modern medicine. The worst part for her had been the realization of his awkwardness as she sat at his bedside hour after endless hour. At first her words seemed to soothe him. Often he looked to the window of his room as though the fading sunlight might offer some cure. Then finally, achingly., Barnabas had turned to her, his pale lips speaking her name.

“Julia. Please go and allow yourself to rest.”

“No, Barnabas. You might need me. Someone must stay with you.”

He shook his head, jaw set firmly. “Julia. You can be of little use to anyone when you go without sleep for so long. Anyone would. Now go. And send Willie in, please.”

She nodded hastily, unable to mouth the words that she truly wanted to say. Her cheeks streamed with tears where her lashes were unable to contain them. Despite her pain, she understood. Even in his illness, Barnabas demanded his own dignity. Gathering her things, she pressed his hand one final time and closed the door behind her.

“He’d like to see you, Willie.”

Willie, seated just outside the door, was quick to his feet. His hands were jammed into his pockets nervously and his eyes were downcast.

“How’s he doin’, Julia? Is he better? Do you think he’s gonna pull through?”

“Of course he’s going to pull through.” The harshness tone of her words startled her. She smiled tremulously, pain evident in her eyes.

“I’m sorry. The past week has been very…trying for me.” Julia had passed him without a further word on the subject.

Now, as the last vestiges of light desperately clung to the walls and the utter loneliness of the night settled in, she felt an unbearable urge to weep. Is this what it all came down to? Barnabas’ curse finally lifted, his new mortality to be his final undoing? What was the use of the advanced age of medicine and science when she, as a doctor, could only sit in wait at the whim of Barnabas’ illness?

He had insisted on staying in the Old House in his reliable stubbornness. Hospitals were clearly not an option for a man who eschewed electricity and still lived in uncertainty of the true usefulness of technology. Julia reflected sadly that an entire medical staff would be of little use at this point. As Barnabas grew weaker by the minute, and seemed to withdraw further and further into himself, it was as though her strength went with him.

No, she decided. She would not allow herself to give up, not under any circumstances. Barnabas needed her. Steeling herself for the future, she sat down in the nearest chair and waited.

More than forty minutes had passed since she had left Willie to attend Barnabas. How much longer could she wait? Eventually she began to pace. Her pulse quickened as Willie’s familiar bouncing gait sounded on the stairs. The sight of him had never been more welcome.

“Well?” she said expectantly.

Willie ran a hand through his hair. “Barnabas has somethin’ to ask you, Julia. He wants to see you now.”

She had never been a superstitious woman, but Julia now focused all of her hopes and all of her positive thoughts in Barnabas’ direction as she approached the stairs. She hurried down the hall as quickly as safety would allow. Barnabas, dressed fully, stood weakly at the door. Clearly he was not well. His intense eyes were ringed with shadow, skin as pale as it had ever been. But before Julia could raise a word of argument, he lifted a finger to his lips.

Then he bent down carefully before her.

“Julia, I will do this properly or not at all. In the past few weeks some things have become incredibly clear to me- in fact, it might be said that I have been brought to my senses.”

She stared at him uncomprehendingly.

“I am asking you to marry me, Julia.” This he said on bended knee, despite the obvious weakness that caused him to tremble slightly as he took her hand. “Julia?”

Willie stood in the doorway with tears in his eyes. Fumbling through the many pockets of his vest, he retrieved a simple gold ring. He dropped it into Barnabas’ palm. Julia, unable to speak, covered her mouth with her hand. As the ring was placed on her finger, she finally allowed herself to breathe again.

“Barnabas, I… I don’t know what to say.”

“If your answer is yes, then there is nothing more to say.”

Julia nodded. Her arms found him, then, as she supported him on her arm and helped him to his feet. “Please don’t kneel. We are equals, you and I. We have always been equals. Yes, I’ll marry you. Yes.” This time her stammering came from a true disbelief. Willie, wiping at his eyes with the backs of his hand, hurried out of the room.

“You have to rest. Try to get some sleep,” she whispered.

But Barnabas would not be quieted. “I don’t want to sleep. This is important, Julia. Do you understand what I am saying to you? I am perfectly aware of what I am asking you. I am not delirious or speaking from my illness. Don’t you see? This was meant to happen.”

She could not share his views. As a doctor, she had seen so many patients trying desperately to find a purpose or a plan in all things. Sometimes it was the only way for a grieving mother or spouse to cope with an otherwise unbearable situation. Part of her knew she should order Barnabas into bed at once. Instead, she grasped his hand firmly, and met his eyes as he stood before her.

“Listen to me, Julia. This is your home. You belong here. The reason I asked Willie to come back to Collinsport was because he was meant to be a witness. Not to a death. To a wedding. Our wedding.”

There was no possible reply but a kiss.

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