Lucy Gordon - For His Little Girl

"I guess she will."

Josie slipped out of the room, and Luke sat beside Pippa, taking her hand. Her eyes were closed. "You're going to be my wife," he said, "as you should have been all these years. When you're better we'll do it again with all the trimmings. You'll have the best wedding dress you can find, but you'll never look more beautiful to me than you do this minute."

She opened her eyes and smiled sleepily, but he couldn't tell how much she'd heard.

One by one they came in, the friends from the guest house. Harry's vicar uncle slipped in timidly as though hoping not to be noticed. Frank and Elly were there, too, but standing apart, looking unhappy.

"Where's Josie?" Elly asked.

"She vanished," Luke said, looking around in dismay.

But Josie returned at that moment, bearing two small bouquets. "There's a flower shop downstairs," she explained. "Here, Mommy." She put the larger bouquet in her mother's hands as they lay weakly on the sheet.

"Thank you, darling."

"Are we all ready?" the vicar asked. "If it's all right with you, I prefer to use the old-fashioned service."

"Fine," Luke said. Then a horrible thought occurred to him. The old-fashioned service, which meant…

"Sir," he said in a loud whisper to the vicar, "about this service-she won't obey."

"I beg your pardon?"

"Cut out obey ," Luke muttered urgently. "She won't do it."

"No, she flaming won't," Pippa murmured.

"Sorry about that," Luke said.

"No, no, I quite understand," the vicar said. "They none of them do these days."

The sigh that accompanied these words told volumes about the little vicar's domestic life. Luke's eyes met Pippa's and, incredibly, a spark of amusement flashed between them. She was close to death, but even now she couldn't resist sharing a joke with him. Luke closed his eyes for a moment, and a shudder went through him. She was so alive, it simply wasn't possible for her to die. It wasn't possible because he couldn't bear it.

Then he felt the weak movement against his hand and, looking down, saw that Pippa had reached out to him. He twined his fingers in hers and felt the comfort she was offering.

The vicar cleared his throat. "Dearly beloved, we are gathered together here…"

Luke didn't hear the next bit. He was watching Pippa's face, seeing her eyes fixed on him with a look of joyful wonder that smote him to the heart. In spite of everything, she loved him so much that this moment could make her happy.

The vicar inquired, "Who gives this woman to be married to this man?"

There was an awkward silence, because nobody had thought of it. Some of them looked at Harry, and some at Jake, but before either could speak, a voice from the back said, "I do."

Every head turned to see Frank come forward, pale but determined. "I do," he said again, taking Pippa's hand and offering it to Luke.

Pippa's eyes shone. "Thank you, Frank, dear."

Luke inclined his head to Frank in gratitude, knowing what the gesture would mean to Pippa. Then he realized that the vicar was asking if he would have this woman to be his wedded wife. He felt as if he was in another world as he made the response and listened as Pippa made hers.

Then came the moment Luke had dreaded, because he wasn't sure he could get through it without breaking down.

"I, Luke, take thee, Philippa, to be my wedded wife, to have and to hold…to love and to cherish, till death do us part…" His voice shook on the words, but her hand in his kept him safe.

Now it was Pippa's turn.

"I, Philippa, take thee, Luke, to be my wedded husband, to have and to hold…to love and to cherish, till death do us part."

When the vicar asked if he had the ring, Luke looked blank. In the agitation, he'd forgotten this part. But Elly was there, offering him her own ring. Then he was slipping it onto Pippa's ringer. "With this ring, I thee wed…"

And she was his wife.

He looked down, hoping to meet her eyes, but Pippa had slipped into unconsciousness again.

"I want to stay with her all the time now," Luke told the doctor. "I won't disturb her, but I want to be with her.''

"All right. Perhaps it'll do her some good, especially if you talk to her."

"Will she hear?"

"It's hard to tell, but we know that hearing is the last sense to go. There are cases of people in a deep coma who awoke and described everything they'd heard. It's not good that she's slipped back like this, and if you talk, it may make all the difference.''

More waiting. Just himself and Josie now, one each side of the bed as the night passed. They took it in turns, one to talk, one to doze, trusting each other for what would happen if Pippa stirred. But the night wore wearily on, and still she didn't come back to them.

In the early hours he leaned over and kissed her while Josie did the same from the other side, but Pippa didn't react. That was the hardest thing, to make no impression on her at all, she who had been as swiftly responsive as quicksilver. It made him want to howl and bang his head against something to cover the fear and despair that were rising in him. But Josie was there, needing him to be strong, so he just smiled and squeezed his daughter's hand.

"Dad, it's like she doesn't know we're here."

"Of course she knows, honey. Remember what the doctor said. She can hear things, even when she's unconscious. Can't you, darling?" He gently brushed Pippa's face. "You know we're here, and you know what we're saying, especially when we say that we love you."

"But how does she know, Daddy?''

"I don't know. It's a mystery, just like love is a mystery. She knows how much we love her, and she can feel that love, wherever she is. And it's making her strong, so that she'll be able to find her way back to us."

"But where is she now?" Josie's eyes were on him, confident that he, too, was strong and wise and could take care of her.

"I'm not sure exactly where she is," he said carefully, "but it's a place where she needs to be until she's well enough to awaken."

"Like a sort of hospital inside?"

"Yes, just like that. She'll wake up when she's ready, and she'll be better. Then we can look after her-you and I, you'll see-" His voice broke.

"Yes, Daddy," Josie said softly, taking his hand.

More hours passed, but nobody was counting them now. Still Pippa lay motionless. Josie's head was on the bed. She wasn't crying openly, but her cheeks were wet, and Luke made a desperate decision.

"Josie," he said urgently, "she moved."

Her head came up. "What?"

"Your mother moved. I felt her squeeze my hand."

"Daddy-she's coming round?"

"Maybe not quite that," he said cautiously. "But she's closer."

"She's not squeezing my hand," Josie said anxiously.

"Be patient. She's there, darling. She's coming back to us."

They took a break to allow the others in. Luke went to stretch his legs and drink some coffee. When he returned, Josie slipped out and he had a precious moment alone with Pippa. Settling himself as close to her as he could get, so that his face was near hers, he murmured, "Darling, I told a terrible lie. I told Josie you squeezed my hand. She was thrilled. But it wasn't true. I didn't feel anything. I don't know if I did the right thing-maybe not-now she's longing for you to squeeze her hand, too, and what will she do if you don't? Please, darling, try. Try hard."

He hunted around for something new to say, but his mind was tired and it fixed on the coffee.

"I've just been drinking some really horrible stuff, from a machine. Why don't the English learn to make coffee? When you're well, we'll teach them together. Then we'll leave for home. You're going to love living in Los Angeles. Josie, too. And think how the restaurants will flourish when the Greatest Cook in the World becomes my partner!