She told herself it hadn’t meant anything, that it wouldn’t mean anything. They could both go on as they had before. Nothing had changed.
When she unlocked her door, she glanced over her shoulder. Patrick stood watching, as he did every night when she walked home. He wanted to make sure she was safe.
She waved, then ducked inside.
Once she was alone, she sank down on the floor and tried to make sense of it all. She and Patrick were friends, and friends were different from lovers. Everyone knew that. Not that she had a whole lot of experience. She’d never had a lover.
A shiver rippled through her, this one leftover sensation from their time in each other’s arms. The intimacy should have frightened her. For years she hadn’t been able to imagine doing that with a stranger. She still couldn’t. Yet with Patrick, everything had felt right. Maybe because she trusted him.
She didn’t trust many people. Not since she’d watched her parents fight over everything when they were divorcing. Their raw anger had terrified her. Surely they had been in love once. What had gone wrong?
She didn’t want that for herself. That was why the dream was so much safer than reality. But Patrick was real, and he didn’t scare her.
She pressed her hands to her face and sighed. Was there an answer? Should she bother looking for one? Or should she just wait? When she got to Paris, life would be so much simpler.
Everything would be perfect—just as she’d always planned.
Chapter Six
Mrs. Carter, the director of the rehabilitation facility, smiled. “We don’t usually allow dogs on the premises, but in this case, we’ll make an exception.”
Rhonda sat on Kayla’s lap. At the woman’s words, her tail wagged, as if she were pleased at being allowed inside. Patrick knew dogs didn’t understand what was being said, but sometimes he believed they had more powers of interpretation than they were given credit for.
Kay la stroked the dog’s head. “I hope we can help, Mrs. Carter. I’ve taken the dogs to a retirement home for a couple of years, and they have really made a difference. Sometimes I think it’s easier to relate to animals than to people, especially when the person involved is sick or injured. Dogs don’t demand witty conversation and are grateful for a quick pat or cuddle.”
“We have to do something.” The director drew her eyebrows together. She was in her early thirties, well dressed, in a red suit. Dark eyes spoke of her concern and compassion. “Allison has been here nearly a week, and she hasn’t said a word to anyone. Apparently it was the same at the hospital. It’s not that she can’t talk, she simply chooses not to. She’s smart and verbal…at least she was until the accident. Her family is concerned, as is her doctor. At this point, we’re considering psychiatric intervention.”
Patrick leaned forward. He hadn’t met the child, but already he felt his heart go out to her. “She was injured in a car accident?”
“She was on a bike,” Mrs. Carter said. “A car hit her. There were almost no head injuries, so in that respect, she was lucky. We’re hoping for a full recovery, but one can never be sure. She’s in a body cast. She’s only nine. This is difficult for her.”
“Let’s see what we can do,” Kayla said. She picked up Rhonda, then rose to her feet.
“Would you like me to come with you?” Mrs. Carter asked.
Kayla shook her head. “Just tell us where the room is. I think we’ll do better if we slip inside casually. It will look less like a setup. Not that she isn’t going to figure out why we’re here.”
Mrs. Carter gave them the room number and directions. They said their goodbyes and promised to stop on their way out. Once they were in the hall, Kayla released the breath she’d been holding.
“Poor kid,” she said quietly.
“Yeah. I can’t imagine what it must be like.”
Kayla glanced at him. “I can, and it’s pretty tough.” She hugged Rhonda. “You’re going to work magic, aren’t you?” The dog swiped at her nose with her pink tongue. Kayla giggled.
Patrick followed her down the cool, silent corridors. If Rhonda didn’t work magic, then Kayla would. He remembered her talking about her own accident. He didn’t know the details; Kayla didn’t talk about them. Over the years, he’d put together enough of the story to know that she’d been badly injured and spent a year in recovery. For a while, the doctors had thought she wouldn’t be able to walk, but she’d proved them wrong. Looking at her today, it was difficult to believe she’d ever been that seriously injured. The only lingering physical evidence was the faint network of scars on her thighs and torso.
They paused in front of the last door at the end of the hall. Windows at the end of the corridor showed a beautiful rose garden. He figured the rooms on either side would have the same view. So far, the rehab center had been impressive. Little Allison was in good hands.
”Do you want me to wait out here, or do you want me to come inside?” he asked.
Kayla touched his arm. “I think I might need the moral support.”
“That’s why I’m here.”
They went inside together.
The room was large and bright, with white walls and colorful posters on the walls and ceiling. The latter was explained by the position of the occupant on the hospital bed in the center of the floor. A sheet covered her from her feet to her chest, but the thin layer of cotton didn’t disguise the large cast over her body. The thick material covered her from her ankles to her neck and trapped her arms to just above the elbow.
Music drifted through the room, its source a stereo system in the comer. There was a television mounted up high, the screen dark. On various tables and chairs scattered around were dolls, stuffed animals and books. Yet the child lay in solitary stillness.
Around her, on the floor, were a few more stuffed animals. From their awkward positions, he assumed they’d been placed on the bed and she’d thrown them off. A chair, tall enough to allow the visitor to be at equal level with the girl, sat next to the nightstand.
Kayla moved to the bed. “Hi, Allison. My name is Kayla. My friend Patrick and I thought you might like a visitor today.” She set the small dog on the bed and smiled. “Her name is Rhonda. She’s very friendly and very sweet. Do you like dogs?”
Silence.
Patrick stepped closer and looked at Allison. Shiny raven hair framed a pale face. Large blue eyes stared blankly at the ceiling. She had the innocent beauty of an angel, but the dark shadows under her lower lids and the tight set of her mouth told him that she’d spent more time in hell than in heaven.
It was all he could do not to hold the girl tight and promise to make it all right. He held back. No doubt her father had already tried that, and it hadn’t helped. He could only hope Rhonda would succeed where the rest of them had failed.
“Rhonda’s a special dog,” Kayla said, stepping around to the far side of the bed. She sat in the chair and looked at the child. “She was left in our care so she could visit people and make them feel better. Dogs are wonderful friends. They love you no matter what. They want to be with you, even when you don’t feel good. They don’t even mind if you don’t want to talk.”
Rhonda sniffed at the sheets, then at the girl’s hand. Her tail swept back and forth as she licked the slender, pale fingers.
Nothing. Not a flicker of response.
Kayla looked at him, and he shrugged. He felt helpless in the presence of this child’s pain. What did he know about healing her?
“When Rhonda first came to us, she didn’t have a name,” Kayla said. “She was skinny and dirty, but when we fed her and cleaned her up, she turned out to be a very pretty dog, with a sweet, loving nature. It’s amazing what you can find when you take the time to look on the inside. That’s what’s happened with you, isn’t it? You’ve got a different outside. I’m sure you hate the cast, but when it’s gone, there will be a whole new you on the inside.”
This time, the silence wasn’t as unexpected. Allison blinked every few seconds, but asi
de from that, there was no sign of life. The cast prevented him seeing the rise and fall of her chest.
Kayla glanced around the room. The sunlight caught her gold-blond hair and made it glow. She was in her usual attire of jeans and a T-shirt. No makeup, no jewelry save an inexpensive watch. Yet, to Patrick, she was as beautiful as she’d ever been.
She picked up a photograph on the nightstand. “This is your family. You guys look great together. Your mom’s real pretty. You look a lot like her, I see you have a younger brother. I never had a brother. Just two sisters. It was fun. We shared clothes and played together.”
Rhonda nudged at Allison’s fingers, but they didn’t move. The dog snorted in frustration, sank onto the mattress and tried to squeeze her head under the girl’s hand. When that proved unsuccessful, she rested her muzzle on Allison’s wrist and closed her eyes.
“I don’t see a dog in the picture. Do you have any pets at home?”
There wasn’t an answer.
Kayla set the photo back on the nightstand. Patrick wondered if she would give up. She didn’t. She stared at Allison for a long time, then reached over and brushed the girl’s dark bangs off her forehead.
“I know,” she said quietly. “Everyone is telling you how sorry they are and pretending they know exactly how you feel. They don’t, though. They don’t know what it’s like to be trapped in a room day after day. They don’t know how scared you are. They don’t know that you lie awake at night, that you don’t want to go to sleep, because when you do, you dream about the accident. They don’t know that you’re afraid you’re going to spend the rest of your life in a cast, that sometimes you just want to scream so loud the world splits in two. They don’t know how much you hate everyone who can walk and play and run and jump. They don’t know that you hate your family most of all—your brother because he can do all the things you can’t, and your parents because if they really loved you, they would be able to fix it.”
Patrick sank into a chair by the door. He tore his gaze away from Kayla long enough to glance at Allison. So far, there was no reaction, but she seemed to be blinking a little faster.
“I know,” Kayla said. “I know everything. You see, it happened to me, too. I was twelve. You were riding your bike when you were hit by a car. I was in a car when another car hit us. The man driving me was killed, and I almost died. I was in a hospital for weeks. They told me I wouldn’t walk, that I would live in a wheelchair for the rest of my life.””
She touched Allison’s cheek with her fingers and smiled slightly. “I didn’t believe them. I thought it was a dream. I kept trying to wake up, but I couldn’t. My arms were in casts and I was in traction. I couldn’t even pinch myself so I could wake up. I kept thinking if I could just pinch myself, everything would be okay.”
While continuing to stroke the girl’s cheek, she used her free hand to wipe her own face. Her tears made Patrick ache. But he didn’t go to her. Instead, he remained in his seat, sensing that the telling of this story was as important for Kayla as it was for Allison.
“It’s been over twelve years, and I still cry when I think about that time,” she continued. “I was in hospitals and places like this for almost a whole year. My sisters, the ones I told you about, came to see me. They really cared and tried to make it better, but they only made it worse. You see, my sisters look just like me. We’re identical triplets. So every time I looked at them, it was like looking at myself, only I couldn’t do all the things I used to do. I felt as if I were looking in a mirror, the kind they have at carnivals. Instead of seeing myself, I saw an ugly joke. Someone else walking and playing. Someone who used to be me, but wasn’t anymore.”
Sometime while she was talking, the music had stopped. Patrick glanced at the stereo and saw that the CD had ended. Kayla hadn’t noticed. She sucked in a deep breath, as if the rest of the story would require even more emotional energy.
“I hated being in bed, and I hated being in pain,” she said. Her voice was thick from tears. They fell freely now. One touched Allison’s cheek. The child turned her head toward Kayla, who, with her head slightly bowed, didn’t notice.
“After a while I started wishing I’d died in that accident,” she whispered. “I prayed every night that God would let me die. Then one day I really did start to get better. It was slow at first, and it took a long time. There was a lot of work and a lot of frustration. But I made it.
And then I was glad I hadn’t died.” She looked up and smiled at Allison. “I even got to be a regular girl again, and you’re going to get that chance, too. I promise.”
Tears trickled out of the corners of Allison’s eyes. Kayla gently wiped them away. “It’s good to cry,” she said. “It helps wash away the sadness.”
Patrick concentrated on staying in his chair. Every instinct screamed at him to go to Kayla and hold her tight, yet he knew there was nothing he could give her, no comfort he could offer. He’d heard her talk about her accident many times before. She often joked about it, made fun of her scars, or dismissed that year out of her life as unimportant. He realized now that there were scars he’d never known about—scars crisscrossing on the inside, scars that touched her heart.
She had a depth, a sense of self, he’d never fully understood. The circumstances of her past explained her interest and compassion with the elderly and the animals. She always looked out for those in need. She was a hell of a woman.
Rhonda stood up and stepped cautiously around Allison’s shoulder encased in the cast. She bent over and began to lick away the child’s tears. Allison sniffed, and then a smile tugged at her lips.
“She’s very pretty,” Allison said, speaking for the first time.
“I think so, too.” Kayla stood up and walked around the bed. When she was by Rhonda, she moved the dog back so that Allison could pet her. “She has a soft coat. Would you like to touch her?”
Allison nodded and stroked Rhonda’s head. The small dog’s body shook with pleasure, and she gave a little yip of excitement. Allison laughed.
“Hi, Rhonda. You’re a nice doggie, aren’t you?”
Rhonda snuggled close in agreement. ,
“What do you feed her?” Allison asked.
As Kayla started to explain the intricacies of pet care, the door next to Patrick’s chair opened. A nurse stepped into the room.
“I just came to check on—” The young woman paused in midsentence. She stared at the smiling child, then looked at Patrick. “What happened? Was it the dog that finally got through to her?”
“Rhonda helped, but mostly it was Kayla. She’s been through a similar situation, and I think Allison is pleased to finally find someone who understands what’s happening to her.”
“I’ve got to tell Mrs. Carter,” the nurse said. “I’ll be right back.” She closed the door, and Patrick heard her soft footsteps hurrying away.
A few minutes later, Mrs. Carter stepped into the room. “Amazing,” she breathed.
Patrick rose to his feet. “I think so, too.”
“Her parents are going to be thrilled. The doctor, too. Do you think Kayla will be willing to come back and bring the dog with her?”
Patrick stared at the woman he’d thought he knew so
well. After seven years, he was just beginning to see the
real Kayla Bedford.!
“I know she’ll come back,” he said. “That’s the kind of person she is.”
Mrs. Carter excused herself and went to call Allison’s parents. Patrick waited patiently while Kayla and Allison talked about Rhonda and what Allison missed most. He heard Kayla promise to sneak in some french fries the next time she visited.
The ache in his chest intensified. Every fiber of his being longed for her. Not just sexually, although he desperately needed her in his bed, but also in other ways. He wanted her in his life.
He’d spent the past four days trying to forget what had happened between them last Saturday. Nothing he did or thought had been able to erase those memories. They had
embedded themselves in his person, much as the scars from her accident had left her physically changed.
For now, his scars didn’t cause any pain, because she was still with him. But in time, he was going to have to let her go. No matter what he thought about her, no matter what he felt, he had no right to keep her beside him. She’d lived through too much, waited too long. She deserved to have every one of her dreams come true. Even if those dreams didn’t include him.
***
Kayla squinted at the magazine, but that didn’t help her understand the words. She laughed. “I keep feeling that if I stare at this long enough, it will make sense. But it’s not working.”
Sarah glanced up, looking over the half glasses resting on her nose. “I thought you were listening to your French tapes and doing the lessons in the workbook.”
Kayla cleared her throat. “Yes, well, I’ve been trying, but with the dogs and all my additional responsibilities, I don’t really have time.”
“You need to make time, dear. This is important.”
“I know.”
She felt guilty, but that didn’t give her any more hours in her day. The past four weeks had just flown by. Between her duties at the clinic, visiting Sarah and her friends and spending three afternoons a week with Allison, there wasn’t a spare minute.
“If I’m not at work, I’m here, or at the rehab center. In the evenings I’ve been helping Patrick replace his wallpaper. I barely know what day it is.”
“I didn’t know that you were seeing Patrick.” Sarah raised pale eyebrows.
“Oh, don’t start on me, Sarah. There’s absolutely nothing going on. I swear.”
But as she spoke the words, she felt a faint heat climb up her cheeks.
There was no reason to blush, she told herself. She hadn’t lied. There was nothing going on. Since that night…since he’d kissed her in a way she’d never been kissed before…he had done as he promised. He’d forgotten the incident. Not by a look or a word had he hinted they’d ever spent passionate moments in each other’s arms.
The Girl of His Dreams Page 7