A Sundog Moment Page 3

  His nod was marginally polite. “Fine. I’ll be back.”

  As soon as he’d left, the two women turned eagerly toward each other. “How are you, Carol; how long has it been?”

  “Too long,” Carol assured her, “and that’s going to change, but first tell me why I’m visiting you here? What on earth is wrong? And tell me quick, before your guard comes back and chases me out.”

  Elizabeth chuckled. “Carol, behave! Michael’s not that bad. You’re just jealous.”

  Carol surprised her; her face dropped all pretenses and became serious. Her cousin was slowly nodding. “You’re right. I am.”

  Elizabeth was caught off guard. Uncertain, she looked hard into her cousin’s face and then Carol reached out and snapped her fingers right under her nose. “Gotcha!”

  It was like old times as they went off into gales of laughter. After things quieted down, Elizabeth wanted to know about Carol. “Is it over? Are you finally a free woman, or are you headed back to Tinseltown? Are you home for good? I’ve missed you, you weasel.”

  Carol’s smile was one of utter disdain, although her eyes were dancing. “Don’t call me weasel, you vermin,” she hissed and then became serious. “Yes, the divorce is final, and he is paying for it handsomely. But that’s enough about me, I insist. What about you? Mother made such a fuss that I had to come see you, and since I was informed only tonight that you would be going home tomorrow, I got to cut short a dismal dinner party Mother made me attend with her. For that I thank you, but I don’t think you planned to be here to get me out of a boring evening, so why, precisely, are you here?”

  Elizabeth had no qualms about uttering the unfamiliar words that described her illness to her cousin. They were family, and their closeness couldn’t be diminished by distance. What she was unprepared for was Carol’s reaction.

  The attractive face, the features highlighted with color, suddenly paled and started to crumple. Elizabeth sat back, shocked.

  “Carol,” she said sharply, “don’t! Oh, come on, you can’t be crying; don’t be like this. I’m fine.”

  Before answering, Carol took some deep breaths, but it did nothing to settle the sick feeling wrenching her stomach. During her ten-year sojourn in Hollywood, scripting stories and working with talent and egos, Carol had watched more than one friend succumb to disease, illness, even AIDS. Not to mention the self-inflicted destruction that abounded in Hollywood. That, along with the end of her marriage, had left scars she wouldn’t admit to; the mere mention of anything that held the hint of a promise of being bad for someone she loved chilled her. Carol licked numb lips, hating these feelings.

  “Elizabeth,” she started, and then stopped. “This is really, really serious stuff.” She looked hard at her cousin. “Isn’t it?”

  Elizabeth immediately shook her head, her smile firm. “Nope. It’s not, and don’t look like that. I don’t need that from you. And you know it.”

  “How? I can’t read your mind, and how can you say this isn’t serious? Do you know anything about it?” Carol couldn’t push away the bad feelings sweeping over her. She knew Elizabeth was going to be upset with her, but my God, how could she deny that this was devastating, horrible . . .

  Carol frowned and crossed her arms. “You know, I’m sitting here feeling devastated for you, but all of a sudden I realize you look absolutely wonderful. You look so awfully healthy while I feel so awful, it would make more sense for me to be in that bed! Are you sure the doctor’s right?”

  Elizabeth shrugged, a mischievous smile lighting up her face. “I don’t think so.”

  Carol’s frown deepened. “Who’s your doctor? Don’t tell me good old Michael didn’t get you the best specialist in town, because I won’t believe you. Who is it?”

  “Gordon Jones. But he’s been consulting with a Dr. William O’Day, who is the big-wheel specialist, so I guess they think they know what they’re doing.”

  “Gordon Jones?” Carol threw back her head and whooped. “That shrimpy nerd who was in junior high with us? You’ve got to be kidding! He became a doctor? I can’t believe it.” She shook her head, chuckling. “God, he was as wide as he was tall. Did he ever grow? Or is he still a short, fat geek?”

  A deep voice sounded directly behind her. “Not exactly.”

  Carol froze, her cheeks coloring furiously. “Elizabeth, please tell me that was your husband trying unsuccessfully to be funny.”

  Elizabeth’s smile widened, and then she started laughing. “Sorry, no can do. Gordon, come in and meet my cousin Carol Stephens. I’m sure you remember her from the old days?”

  Reluctantly, Carol slowly turned around and looked up. And then up some more into an amused face that looked vaguely familiar.

  “Uh, you didn’t hear what, uh, my cousin and I . . .” Carol’s voice trailed off as she watched the smile deepen. An obviously trim and very tall man in a white lab coat held out his hand.

  “Every word.” Gordon nodded cheerfully. “How are you, Carol?”

  She cleared her throat, aware of Elizabeth laughing disgustingly hard in the background. She took his hand and gave him a correct social smile. “Fine, Gordon, and you?”

  “Couldn’t be better. Sorry about the divorce; I know it must have been hard.” No smile now, just a look of concern.

  “Ah, thank you, but how did you know?” Her frown was small. “No press releases have gone out.”

  “My mother plays bridge with yours and Elizabeth’s. They like to tell each other every little thing about their children. You know gossip travels fast in those circles, and it’s usually quite accurate.”

  “Oh.” Carol couldn’t think of anything to say, and it was Gordon who finally released her hand, nodded, and turned to Elizabeth. “Everything is looking very good, Elizabeth. I’ll be back tomorrow morning and we’ll let you go home by early afternoon.”

  “Thank God! That will be great, Gordon, thank you.” Elizabeth watched as Gordon paused by the door, turned, and suggested to Carol they get together and catch up over lunch soon.

  “Sure. Give me a call.” She nodded as she spoke, looking vague and disinterested. She had no intention of going out with any man, for a very long time. Maybe not ever.

  He closed the door and Carol turned back to her cousin. “That was Gordon Jones?”

  “Yep.” Her cousin couldn’t resist teasing her. “You should have seen your face!” Elizabeth laughed so hard even Carol smiled. When Elizabeth was finally over her giggling fit, Carol suggested they get together very soon; Elizabeth had a better idea.

  “Why don’t we put together a foursome? Michael, you and Gordon, and me. Now, wouldn’t that be nice?” she asked, her face bright with expectation.

  “No, it wouldn’t.” Carol frowned. “I don’t intend to be part of a foursome, or anything remotely imitating a couple, for a long, long time. Even longer than that. Don’t even contemplate that thought.”

  Startled, Elizabeth sat back. “Why?” She knew that Carol must have misunderstood. “Just because we go out to dinner doesn’t mean—”

  She was cut off as Carol held up a firm hand. “No. You and I can go out to raise some hell, but no men.”

  Elizabeth’s face was as concerned as Carol’s was empty.

  “Carol, what happened in California? Ray adored you, and you, well, you both seemed to be so deeply in love, so happy. I know the times we visited you out there, and when you came here, it seemed everything was wonderful. You were so perfect.” She faltered as her cousin again held up a hand.

  “There’s nothing left to say. So . . .” Carol took a deep long breath, let the air out slowly, and changed the subject. “So let’s talk about . . . Kellan. Am I going to see my godchild soon, or is she having too great a time at Mr. Jefferson’s university?”

  There was a moment of awkward silence before Elizabeth smiled wanly, accepting the change of subject for now.

  “She’s supposed to come home tomorrow night, but I’m not sure how long she’s going to be around.
She’s finished with semester midterms, and I think she had something planned with friends for the small break. I’ll tell her that her fairy godmother is here asking about her.”

  “You do that, and tell her I want a date for dinner and shopping, my treat.”

  Elizabeth shook her head. “You’ll spoil that child.”

  “Some child, she’s taller than me,” Carol scoffed. “Besides, it’s what godmothers get to do,” Carol said with a cocky smile.

  Elizabeth touched Carol’s arm. “And you and I have a date for dinner soon, my treat.”

  Carol shrugged. “Well, when you get out of here, you and I are going to raise some serious mischief in this town. That’ll make both of us feel better. I’ll rent a limo and we’ll go barhopping, or someplace dangerous. Okay?”

  Before Elizabeth could say anything more, Michael was back, announcing the end of visiting hours. He promptly took Carol’s arm and escorted her to the door, even as she yelled, “Elizabeth, I’ll call you, and don’t forget what I said.” Michael shut the door behind her.

  “And don’t forget I’ll be back here in the morning,” he promised, his kiss long and gentle before he finally left.

  Sitting just inside the small hospital room she jokingly called her jail cell, Elizabeth waited impatiently for Gordon and Michael. The hospital had confined her world long enough.

  She looked like a fashion model. Dressed in a cropped autumn jacket in herringbone tweed with matching pants, she was just strapping on beige high-heeled shoes when her doctor walked in. As soon as he saw her feet he frowned.

  “Elizabeth.” Gordon Jones was very much the doctor; his face and voice stern. “Until you see Dr. O’Day, I want you to be very careful about those kinds of shoes. Low heels would be much better. Tennis shoes with a good arch support are excellent.” He picked up her charts off the back of the door, not expecting her reaction.

  “Gordon, you’ve got to be kidding!” Her voice was incredulous and she looked at him like he had lost his mind. “I don’t think I own a pair of flats, thank you very much, but I do have a closet full of these kinds of shoes that I will continue to wear. And don’t worry, I’m just fine.” But her lofty sureness was ruined when she stood and took a step forward, only to feel the floor rushing toward her. This happened just as Michael walked in and, with a muttered curse, caught her.

  “What the—are you all right?” His face was white as he helped her back to the chair.

  Her face was red and angry, but she summarily waved away his concern. “I’m fine. I just slipped on something. Actually”—and she leveled a look of disapproval at Gordon—“it felt like a nail snagged my shoe.” Elizabeth leaned forward to stare accusingly at the floor, certain something was there that ought not to be. Didn’t they ever sweep these floors?

  It was only after Michael actually got down on his hands and knees to scrutinize the area and found nothing that she stopped fussing.

  “Well, what on earth could it have been?” she said, irritation wrinkling her brow.

  “I told you those shoes aren’t a good idea, Elizabeth,” Gordon said mildly, thinking the sooner she saw the neurologist the better he would feel.

  Michael’s frown deepened. “Then why are you wearing them, Elizabeth?” Concern clipped his voice with anger.

  Her sidelong glance was stubborn. “Because I want to.”

  “Gordon just said that’s not a good idea. And you nearly fell.” He studied her rebellious face and took control. “We’ll stop by a shoe store on the way home. We can get you whatever you need then.” To make sure she understood the point, he bent down, took the shoes off her feet, and threw them in the trash can.

  “Michael!” She was outraged.

  He ignored her and spoke to the doctor. “Can we go now?” Gordon nodded and Michael put a strong hand on Elizabeth’s arm and helped her up.

  “She can use a wheelchair to get to the lobby,” Gordon said. As if on cue, a nurse arrived at the door to help seat a fussing Elizabeth. “I didn’t even use a wheelchair when I had Kellan,” she said. “And Michael, go back and get me my shoes. Now. I’m not leaving them here.”

  After a brief staring contest, he guided her into the wheelchair and only then did as she asked, dumping the shoes in her lap.

  Neither spoke until they were in the car driving away. Michael stared at the road as he asked, “Where do you want to stop?”

  Elizabeth closed her eyes and leaned against the cushion. “I don’t want to stop anywhere. I want to go home, Michael. I’m tired.”

  He nodded, wanting the same thing but not wanting her to think the matter of the shoes was forgotten. “All right, fine, but no more heels. You can wear tennis shoes to go out and get some other shoes. We can do that tomorrow.” That would be soon enough.

  She kept her eyes shut, quietly searching for the happy anticipation about going home, because it was now nowhere to be found. Silence hummed as they drove home; her eyes opened only when she felt the car turning into the front circular drive, instead of going straight to the back of the house as they usually did. “Wait here.”

  “Why, Michael? Why are you stopping here?” She frowned as she watched him move around the car to her door. She grabbed the shoes out of the backseat and started to put them on. He didn’t give her time.

  In one fluid motion, Michael reached in and picked her up. “Can’t have you walking in bare feet, can we?” He smiled down at her before walking up the steps to the front door. He heard her wonderful laugh and then her arms were embracing his neck.

  “I feel like a bride,” she murmured into his ear.

  He put her down at the front door and gave her a long, welcoming kiss. “Keep that thought for tonight,” he said, even as the door opened and her mother held out welcoming arms.

  “Elizabeth! Come in, come in; my goodness, where are your shoes? I packed them for her, didn’t I, Michael?” Flustered, Virginia Mae didn’t wait for an answer. She drew Elizabeth inside even as Michael went back out to park the car and bring in the suitcase.

  Elizabeth smiled, smelling the fresh cut flowers that graced the sideboard in the foyer. Her mother knew how much she loved the house to be filled with flowers. Seeing Elizabeth’s pleased face, Virginia Mae wrapped her in a loving embrace and held on too tightly and for too long. And fussed about the flowers. “You would not believe how long it took me to find these flowers. Everywhere I looked, no one had fresh. Oh, they said they were fresh, but by the time I saw them, they were drooping, within moments of dropping all their petals. And the fragrance! Nothing, unless you like the smell of a dying rose.”

  “Mother.” Finally, Elizabeth disengaged herself. “Thank you. The flowers are a lovely touch, and I appreciate all your effort. It’s good to be home. Let’s go into the living room. I am a tad bit tired.”

  Michael, who had returned, brought slippers for her feet. “Maybe you should go rest, Elizabeth.”

  Perversely, she didn’t want to do it simply because he suggested it. “No, I’m fine. I’d like to sit and chat with Mother for a little while. Is Kellan going to be here soon?”

  He glanced at the mantel clock as he guided her to the couch. “She said she’d be here after her last class. About five o’clock. Before dinner.”

  “Good. I’ve missed her. You talked to her just last night?”

  He nodded and abruptly leaned down to give her a kiss. “I’ve got to get back to work. I’ll be back here before Virginia Mae leaves. And don’t fix dinner. We’ll call for takeout.”

  After he left, her mother went to make them some tea.

  Elizabeth looked with approval around the spacious room, which she had redecorated just last year. The ceiling and trim were crisp white, walls deep hunter green. Huge paintings decorated the walls; a few of her own creations were also hung there.

  She savored the quiet, the peacefulness emanating from this room, from this house. What a welcome change. It was wonderful to be here and yet . . . It was odd, but she felt she didn’t belong. It
was a strange thought, unbalancing. She leaned against the soft cushions of the sofa and closed her eyes in defense, but still there was a slight off-center feeling to the world and she couldn’t figure out why.

  She awoke with a jolt an hour later and listened to her mother’s plaintive voice. “Well, finally. I’m afraid the tea, what’s left of it, is cold.”

  The disapproving thread in that familiar voice was so normal, so usual, it was a relief to hear it. It was so good to be home. Things were becoming normal. “Sorry. I must have been more tired than I thought.”

  Her mother’s lips compressed into a familiar thin line. “You should have listened to Michael and gone right to bed.” Her mother always thought she should do precisely what Michael told her to do, and Elizabeth found even that reassuring.

  By the time Michael got home, she had changed into jeans and a comfortable shirt. Elizabeth was still wearing the slippers. Virginia Mae readied to leave as Michael came into the kitchen and gave his wife a hug and a kiss. “Are you feeling better?” This had become standard over the last three weeks, his face anxious. “Any more falls?”

  “None,” she assured him, even as her mother echoed, “Falls? Elizabeth, did you fall and no one told me?” Disapproval moved a notch higher.

  “No, Mother, I didn’t really fall. I just . . . stumbled. There is not the slightest need to be upset,” she assured her, knowing it was best not to go into details with Virginia Mae. She ignored the mild irritation that Michael had to mention it in front of her mother. “I’m sorry you can’t stay to see Kellan.”

  Virginia Mae sighed, her lips thinned with regret. “So am I, but tonight is dinner with Gladys Nelson, and we’ve planned this for so long, I can’t cancel. But tell my granddaughter I will see her for breakfast tomorrow. Bright and early.” Virginia Mae kissed her daughter and left in a cloud of perfume and purpose.