Consequences

such activities. This was her freshman dorm room.
    “Claire, I want to marry you.”
    “Yeah right.” She didn’t believe him. Her plans didn’t include marriage. Young Simon, however, meant every word he said. Now as Claire watched she wondered: what if?
    “No, really. We can wait until we are through school or we can run away today. I’m not busy, how about you?” He pretended to be playful, but his tone had more than a hint of sincerity.
    “Give me a rain check, okay?” Claire nibbled his ear. “I think my dad might be upset if I decide to throw away a year of school to get married during spring semester.”
    “I want to marry you, not stop your dreams . . . we can still finish school and you can be a famous meteorologist.” Simon didn’t get upset, he smiled tenderly and continued. “A famous meteorologist named Johnson.” He playfully nibbled on her ear and let her take a turn on his. They lay in that little twin bunk bed and talked for hours. Claire watched them and memories flooded her consciousness. They shared so much of themselves, their dreams, ambitions, troubles, failures, hopes, and accomplishments. Nothing could stop the mutual admiration and affection of their first love.
    They got out of bed and dressed wearing sweatpants and Valparaiso University sweatshirts. Claire put her hair in a ponytail. Looking at her now, she chastised herself. She needed a shower, some makeup, and definitely a brush. Simon didn’t notice. Compliments came between hugs and kisses. He thought she looked beautiful and doted on each word. They were both completely in love. They discussed the finer dining establishments near campus, Taco Bell, McDonald’s, Pizza Hut, or Wendy’s. With a warm loving kiss they mutually decided it would be Taco Bell. No pretense, no rules, only warmth and an undying need to be together.
    As they left the dorm room, Claire looked at the mess: clothes on the floor, bed unmade, a pizza box next to the trash can, and she saw the comforts of home. The scene vanished, fading to black, the feeling of love remained. After watching, all she could think was : please don’t fade . I want to keep this going . But it did. It faded.
    Slowly, it evaporated, slipped away into cool darkness. Claire felt so cold. She wanted a blanket, something, anything with heat . . . please. She would beg if necessary. The cold was so . . . cold!
    “Claire, the doctor said you may be able to hear us when we talk. Catherine and I have been talking to you for days for over a week. He says that you will wake up when your pain decreases and you are ready. Please be ready soon. This liquid crap they are putting in your arm may have nutrients, but you are wasting away. Catherine has had the cook prepare all the foods you like every day just in case you wake and want something.” Tony’s voice sounded close. She could sense his distress and concern. She had to wonder, if I open my eyes will he be right there. Did he say over a week? I have been asleep for over a week? How did that happen? Why was a doctor here? Claire couldn’t remember the whys or how, all she could remember were her parents, her grandparents, her sister, and Simon. Those memories filled her with hope and promise, and yet Tony sounded like he needed her. She knew she needed to go to Tony. She didn’t want to make him wait. But she felt so tired and weak. Maybe a little more rest before she opened her eyes. Someone must have put blankets on her because she felt warmer.
    Along with the warmth Claire could feel the stiffness of her dress, it was sea foam green. She was looking at herself in the mirror as Emily watched. They were in a big dressing room.
    “I love it!” Emily observed Claire from all sides. “It is perfect for my wedding.”
    “Seriously, Em, you want me to wear green?” Claire’s tone sounded joking, but she meant it. She remembered not liking the dress, but of course she would wear it if that is what Emily wanted.
    “Yes. With your eyes, it’s stunning.” Claire watched the two sisters and again became self-critical, the self she saw looked too heavy and her hair was too thick and bushy. Emily was seeing someone different as she played with Claire’s hair, twisting it and talking, “With your hair up and some dangly earrings. I know you can wear Grandma’s necklace. It has a pearl. And I will wear Mom’s strand of pearls. They will look great, and that will be my something old . You will almost be as pretty