Her Deadly Reunion

by Beth Ziarnik

  Longing spread through his chest like fire. He cherished every moment with her. Beautiful but spunky when the need arose, Jill also understood him and his dream. He wasn’t surprised when she urged him to take this trip.

  “Yes, ma’am, he is.” Manny’s voice pulled Clay back to his surroundings.

  The phone near Clay’s service table rang. As he answered it, he sank back in his seat, still staring at Jill’s picture.

  “You made it aboard.” The melodious lilt in Francesca’s voice betrayed her pleasure. “Are you enjoying your flight and making yourself at home?” She went on, mentioning the bar on board and other amenities to help pass the time.

  He wasn’t a drinking man, and without Jill to share the other offerings, they failed to interest him, though he kept that to himself. He responded in polite monosyllables.

  “Well then, we’ll see you soon. My car will await you at the airport. When you arrive at the house, we will enjoy a late supper and perhaps discuss the contract details.”

  Tonight? His heart leapt at the last suggestion. “Soon then,” he said, relieved when his temperamental client ended her call.

  He ran his hands over the soft leather arms of his chair. Amazing how a woman living in a poverty-stricken nation could afford a personal jet. Had she made her fortune during her years living in the States? Or was it old, family money?

  All that mattered was wrapping up this contract and getting back to Jill.

  As Jill stood, Alice slipped into the room. “Dora, this is Jill Shepherd.”

  “We’ve met.” The words dripped with disdain from the elder woman’s mouth. She ignored the nurse and advanced on Jill, livid, but controlling the level of her voice to a harsh whisper. “How did you get in here?”

  Jill met the woman’s hostile stare, intent on answering any questions honestly but with as few words as possible. “Through the back door.”

  “You had the audacity to sneak into my house?”

  What could she say without implicating Alice? She glanced at her father’s nurse who drew alongside the elder woman.

  “I brought her here, Dora. John wanted to see his daughter.”

  The woman glared at Alice. “Well, she is leaving this minute. I’m sure she is bright enough to see that John is just as Hannah said—too ill to receive visitors.”

  A rustling in the bed drew Jill’s attention. Her father had lifted himself on one elbow. “She’ll do no such thing. She will stay. As long as I say. As long as she is willing.”

  “Stay?” Dora’s eyes widened before narrowing into slits.

  Alice interjected herself once more. “John invited her for the holidays.”

  “I … you … why wasn’t I told?” the woman sputtered.

  “Because we knew you would act just as you are.” Her father sank back upon the bed. “I want to get to know my daughter.”

  Dora stepped back as if slapped. “I won’t have it. Not in my house.”

  “She will stay!” Her father issued the injunction with his last ounce of strength.

  Jill’s lips parted in dismay. Was this what her mother tried to warn her about? The fight that would ensue over her? How foolish she had been to disregard her gentle mother’s wisdom.

  Her father’s graying face indicated how the brief exchange had drained him. She put up both palms to stem any further flow of angry words. “Please. Stop. Both of you. I will go.”

  “No, daughter. Don’t leave.” He was begging, and his words wrenched her heart. She hesitated, her resolve weakening.

  “Dora, be reasonable.” Alice went to a window beside the bed and drew the curtain aside. Snow hissed against the panes. “How can she leave? The storm has shut down everything. She must stay, if only for the night. I’ve already put her things in the guest room.”

  The elder woman sniffed. “You can be dismissed.”

  “Oh, Grandmother, you know that’s not true,” a young woman who appeared to be in her late twenties chided from the doorway. “Alice belongs here as much as we do. Let’s go and leave them alone.”

  Jill regarded the soft-spoken young woman. She resembled the younger of the two daughters in the family photo in her father’s office. Could she be one of her half-sisters? A longing sprang up in her heart. Growing up an only child, she had always wanted sisters. If only she could get to know this one. But that wasn’t likely to happen. Not if Dora Gates had her way.

  The venom in the elder woman’s eyes poured over Jill. Shuddering, Jill turned away.

  With a huff, the woman left, and Alice shut the door behind her. “That went better than I hoped. You all right?”

  Jill nodded. She had survived, and for at least tonight, she would live in the same house as her father.

  “Good.” Alice hustled to the bedside. “You can rest now, John. Jill is not going anywhere. She’ll only be a whisper away.”

  Alice held a glass of water so he could take a few sips through a straw, then she tucked the bedcovers around him. Her father closed his eyes, tension still visible on his face.

  Alice motioned for Jill to follow her to the door, where she lowered her voice. “Will you stay with John until I return? I’m sure he will rest more comfortably with you at his side.”

  “Of course, but first, please tell me why he’s so sick. What’s the matter with him?”

  Alice regarded her with sad eyes. “I wish we knew. About three weeks ago, he came down with a flu that wouldn’t let go. That’s when Dora asked me to take another leave of absence from my job to look after him.”

  “Another?”

  “He gets sick like this about once a year, but he always gets well.” She nodded reassuringly. “I’d better go smooth things out with Dora. When I return, I’ll take you to your room.”

  Alice started to leave but then turned back. “In the meantime, don’t let her scare you. She acts as if she has the power in this house, but without your father, she would be out in a minute. He pays the bills. I’ll be back as soon as possible.”

  After Alice left, Jill returned to her father and peered into his weary face. Thank God—literally—for the rise and fall of his chest beneath the thin coverlet. She reached out a hand to stroke his hair but pulled it back. A desire to slip her hand back into his overwhelmed her, but she refrained. His need for rest was greater than her need to touch him. She sat at his bedside and focused intently on every twitch of his lips and closed eyelids. Before long, he was sleeping, but he wasn’t resting. Whenever he moaned, her heart tightened in her chest.

  Whatever else Dora might be, she was correct about her son-in-law’s condition. John Ashley Taylor was very ill. A tear slipped down her face. Surely, Lord, I haven’t finally met my father only to lose him.

  She watched him sleep for the next half hour, praying and thanking God for her father’s love and this chance to spend time with him. She also thanked God for Alice, who had helped to make this time possible.

  A sudden stillness gripped the room. Jill jumped up and studied her father intently. Had he stopped breathing? She raced toward the door to summon help.

  Please, Lord, don’t take him now.

  Chapter Three

  Yanking the door open, Jill nearly collided with Alice. Seizing the nurse’s nearest wrist, she pulled her toward the cavernous bed. “Dad’s not breathing!”

  Her own breath caught in her throat as Alice rushed ahead to the bed. She placed a hand on his chest, then pulled back one of his eyelids. “What happened while I was gone?”

  “He seemed to be sleeping, a little restless, but then he stopped breathing.”

  Alice unbuttoned the pajama top and grabbed her stethoscope from around her neck. Moving it to different locations on his chest, she stopped, no doubt to listen. “John is breathing, but much too shallow. Open the drawer to this bedside table, and give me the box inside it.”

  While Alice pulled a handheld device from her nurse’s case and clipped one end to her patient’s forefinger, Jill followed her instructions, snatching the lo
cked case and setting it on the nightstand.

  Her face a mask of tension, Alice watched the meter.

  “What’s that for?” Jill whispered.

  “It’s a pulse oximeter. It gives a more accurate measure of John’s heart rate and oxygen level, and it’s just as I suspected.” She removed the device and lifted a chain from around her neck. Taking hold of the key at the chain’s end, Alice fit it into the lock of the box she had asked for. She tossed the lid back and removed a vial and a needle assembly. After quickly preparing an injection, she pushed the plunger until some solution escaped.

  Her heart pounding, Jill stared unblinking as Alice cleaned the injection site, inserted the needle, and steadily dispensed the solution. “This should help,” she said as she withdrew the needle. She taped a sterile pad over the site of the needle prick.

  Jill’s insides quivered. “Will he make it?” Oh, please, Lord.

  Without looking at Jill, Alice nodded. “I believe so. We’ll soon know.” She held out the empty syringe. “Please put this in the sharps container in the bathroom while I keep an eye on your father.”

  Jill’s hands shook as she grabbed a tissue before receiving the instrument. Rushing to do as she was told, she found the container, disposed of the used needle assembly, and thoroughly washed her hands. She hurried back and found Alice bent over her father. The nurse looked up with a reassuring smile. “John is resting comfortably now.”

  Jill saw nothing to smile about. Though her father’s chest rose and fell with a little more vigor, his color had not fully returned. She stood near Alice for several minutes, waiting and watching as her father’s color slowly improved.

  “He’ll be fine, so let’s get you settled.” Alice moved to leave the room.

  Jill tore herself from her father’s side to follow his nurse. In the hall, she stopped her. “Shouldn’t Dad be in a hospital? Isn’t that the logical place for someone as sick as he is?”

  “We can’t force him to go against his will, and John insists on staying home.” Alice resumed her brisk walk across the hall, and Jill hurried to catch up with her.

  “But why? Isn’t it risky for him to stay here?”

  Alice stopped and took one of Jill’s hands between her own soft ones. “Medically speaking, John is safe right now. Though he refuses to see a doctor, I consult regularly with my head nurse at the hospital. Not only does she have an excellent reputation, we’re good friends. If John needs to be moved to the hospital, we will see to it. Now, let’s hurry. I don’t want to leave him for long.”

  You shouldn’t leave him at all. Jill bit back the urgent words as Alice opened the door near the head of the stairs.

  “Here we are.”

  Jill entered the spacious room that would be hers for this one night, a vision of polished walnut woodwork. Walls upholstered in shimmering green silk rose to a ceiling displaying four shades of green with touches of gold. Even the draperies matched. A room fit for a princess.

  But she was no princess. She was the daughter born of the other woman, and this home wasn’t hers. Could she feel more acutely out of place? Somewhat like her worn suitcase resting on the beautifully upholstered bench at the foot of a polished sleigh bed. The finely carved walnut fireplace caused a lump to form in her throat. As if in a dream, Jill stood in her father’s house. Shouldn’t she be deliriously happy? But such happiness eluded her.

  “I hope you like it,” Alice said, her eyes questioning.

  She might as well just admit it. “It’s lovely. Absolutely beautiful, but—”

  “Don’t worry. John has made his wishes clear, and Dora will not fight him about your Christmas visit. I promise. You will have all the time you and your father need.” Her soft brown eyes held a kindly anxiety. “You will stay, won’t you?”

  Jill’s pent-up breath released from her throat. “I don’t belong here.”

  “Of course, you do.” The nurse nodded firmly. “You’re John’s daughter, and he wants you here. That’s all that matters.” She moved toward the door.

  If only that were true. Jill had expected a measure of coolness from her father’s family but not Dora’s outright hatred and rejection.

  The wind chose that moment to howl around the corner of the house. Jill rubbed her upper arms against a sudden chill in spite of the room’s warmth.

  “Dora’s afraid of you.”

  Jill jerked and turned around. “Afraid of me? Whatever for? I would never hurt her.”

  Alice regarded her with sad eyes. “You already have.”

  The words plummeted to the bottom of Jill’s heart. Having known enough pain in her own lifetime, the last thing she would want to do was hurt anyone—even a stranger. She searched Alice’s eyes. “What are you talking about?”

  “You’re an in-the-flesh reminder of John’s infidelity.” Alice squeezed Jill’s arm in a comforting way, but the words still stung. “Try to remember that it’s not your fault. It’s Dora’s problem, and she will have to come to terms with it herself.”

  Jill stared at the luxurious carpet. As long as she stayed in her father’s home, she would bring pain to his mother-in-law.

  Alice checked her watch. “You settle in, and we’ll talk later. I have to get back to John.”

  “Of course. And thank you.”

  “For what?”

  “Without you, I would never have come to know how much my father loves me.”

  “Glad I could help,” Alice said as she left.

  As the door closed, Jill slipped to her knees beside the bed. Covering her face with her hands, she tried to steady herself. “Lord, what do you want me to do?”

  Her father was so sick, so weak. Would anything help? “Lord, will he recover?”

  She cringed as she struggled to voice her next question. “Or have you brought me here to witness his last days, his last hours?”

  Tears choked her throat. She swallowed hard. If her father were to die soon, she had to know the one thing that would ensure she would not be separated from him forever. “Lord, does he know You? If he leaves this earth, will he be in heaven with You and Mom? Please, Lord, don’t let him leave this earth without You.”

  Subduing her sobs, Jill wept as quietly as the pain crushing her heart would allow. How could it be that all her years of longing had brought her to this place where she would have a few hours, at most a few days, with her father before they would be separated again?

  “Please, Lord, give us more time. Please.”

  How she longed for Clay’s comforting arms. She palmed the tears from her face but more followed. She pulled her phone from her purse and flicked to his number, then changed her mind. Her call would only worry him. Somehow, God would deliver the answers she needed. Among them, why He had blocked her from leaving and the state of her father’s relationship with the Lord.

  Wandering to the gold-green draperies, she pulled aside a lace panel and peered into the darkness beyond. Snow raced by, driven horizontally by the wind and hissing against the panes. The street had all but disappeared in the waning visibility, the glow from the street lamps almost obliterated. Much like her dream of a marvelous first Christmas with Clay and her father.

  Back home in Chicago, she and Nona would be trimming the tree, planning Christmas dinner for the usual houseful of friends, and stuffing wonderful surprises into gift bags topped with pretty holiday tissue.

  She dropped the curtain back into place and flicked her fingers over her phone to text her friend. Did she have time to chat?

  Within a minute, Nona called. “Merry Christmas. I’m assuming you and Clay met your father by now. How did it go? Did Clay catch his flight in time?”

  Jill sighed and started filling her in.

  When Nona heard the outcome of their last-minute change of plans, her voice eroded from cheerful to subdued. “I’m so sorry. How are you doing alone in that house? Are you holding up?”

  Jill told of her first encounters with Dora and Alice.

  “Whew. That must have
been a huge surprise, but how good of the Lord to provide Alice to get you to your father.”

  Yes, that was true, wasn’t it? Nona always knew the right thing to say. Jill relaxed her tense shoulders as she considered her friend’s comforting perspective.

  “So, how did your first meeting with your father go?”

  Jill shared every detail, and in the telling of it, she was once again overwhelmed by her father’s love for her. She inhaled deeply as if drawing it into the depths of her soul. “But he’s very ill. How will he ever get well if no one knows the cause?”

  “Medical professionals don’t know everything, Jill, but God does. Let’s pray that the Lord not only reveals the cause but provides healing.”

  Nona’s trust in the Lord wrapped around Jill as if her dear friend were holding her. Yes, prayer was the answer.

  But what about her other dilemma?

  Chapter Four

  Almost breathless, Jill waited for her friend’s answer. Should she leave, or should she stay?

  With a voice quiet and steady, Nona delivered her advice. “You already know what to do, and I’ll pray that you’ll come to realize it. The Lord will not fail you.”

  Jill slumped. Of course, Nona would leave the decision up to her. Whenever anyone sought guidance, her friend helped the person unearth the pros and cons. Then she would pray and let God lead that person to the right answer.

  Nona was right. She needed God’s answer, and God would not fail to make it clear. Knowing her friend would be praying as she attempted to make the decision helped because Nona knew how to storm heaven for answers.

  “Thank you, my friend.”

  “Keep in touch.” Nona’s voice expressed her caring concern. “And Merry Christmas.”

  “I will, and Merry Christmas to you too.”

  Jill ended the call and retreated to sit on the edge of the bed. A bed in her father’s home at Christmastime. She skimmed one hand lovingly over the bedspread’s soft, silken surface. Then, closing her eyes, she lay back. How often had Nona reminded her that everything had a reason, and God’s plans were always for good.