Monkey Wrench

by Nancy Martin

  His smile was wicked and he coaxed her body with gentle, rhythmical fingertips. “Have you truly wanted me?”

  She smiled through lazy-lidded eyes as he increased the tension by running his left hand over her skin and following the caresses with his lips. “Yes.” She could hardly breathe, let alone speak, but she forced the words out. “I couldn’t admit it, though—not even to myself—until just a few days ago. I thought I was past all this nonsense.”

  “Nonsense?” He nipped her earlobe.

  “I did. But now I...oh, Joe, please don’t stop doing that.” She shuddered with pleasure, closing her eyes at the tide of sensations that washed up from within. Instinctively, she wrapped her legs around Joe’s lean hips, and he settled against her with a hungry growl. “Oh, Joe.”

  There was little talking after that—just a cry or a moan that communicated everything they had to know. Susannah felt as if the fire had leaped up and consumed them. The flickering light bathed Joe’s body in an unearthly glow, and her own flesh felt as if it might burst into flame at any moment. She gave herself up to the delights Joe introduced, wantonly begging for more when he teasingly withheld his favors and brazenly prolonged his wait when he growled his readiness to take her completely.

  At last they became one flesh and, absurdly, Susannah found herself weeping and laughing with the wonder of their union. Joe whispered sweet nothings in her ear, tenderly rocking until her mind was deliciously full of nothing but exquisite pleasures. When her climax came, it shook Susannah to her very core.

  “Oh, Joe, I love you!”

  The words drove him over the edge of sanity. A mad moment later, Joe exploded in a tremendous shudder of joy. Exhausted yet rejuvenated in spirit, they clung to each other, sharing a heartbeat and a long, liquid kiss.

  A lifetime later, they were properly tucked into the bedclothes together and sharing a glass of wine. As the cool liquid eased down her throat, Susannah wondered if she’d ever felt so content. So satisfied. So loved.

  “I adore you,” she murmured to him, nestling her head on his chest and trailing her hand down his belly. “I may never get enough of you, Joe Santori.”

  “We have a long time to find out,” he replied, toying with her hair and drinking deeply from the wineglass. Then he set the glass on the nightstand and pulled Susannah under the covers again for another bout of erotic caresses. Afterward, they lay talking for hours. Joe spoke about Marie again, and Susannah listened carefully. He had grieved, she realized, but she felt he was right—Joe was ready to start again. The fire burned low and the bottle on the nightstand slowly emptied, and Susannah felt as if she’d never been so close to another human being before in her life.

  At last, Susannah peered at the alarm clock beside the bed. “It’s after one o’clock. I should go home.”

  “Spend the night,” Joe urged.

  “We may not get another chance like this for a long time,” she murmured, drawing whorls in the crisp hair on his chest. “But I shouldn’t stay.”

  “Your grandmother will be shocked.”

  “You might be surprised where she’s concerned,” Susannah said with a smile. “She’s very fond of you. But just the same, I think I’ll go.”

  Joe agreed and kissed her once more, then climbed out of bed and pulled Susannah to her feet.

  They were dressing when the doorbell rang downstairs.

  Joe straightened abruptly from pulling on his boots. “Who in the world?”

  Gina, Susannah thought. Something’s happened to Gina.

  She didn’t say that, but she could see the same thought on Joe’s face. He left the room without a word, still shirtless, and clattered down the steps to answer the door.

  Hastily, Susannah finished dressing, then tiptoed to the top of the stairs. She was astonished to hear Roger Selby’s voice in the downstairs hall.

  “She’s here, isn’t she?” Roger asked, his voice strained and awkward sounding.

  “Hold on, Selby. What’s the problem?”

  “I need to see Susannah,” Roger stated brusquely. “There’s been an accident.”

  At the word accident Susannah started down the stairs immediately. It was suddenly not important that Joe was half-dressed and she herself was on the second floor. Any fool could see what was going on.

  “Roger, what’s wrong?” She clutched the handrail for dear life. Her imagination was already boiling with possibilities and she said, “Has something happened to Granny Rose?”

  “She’s had a heart attack,” Roger said curtly.

  Susannah felt her heart freeze, and she sat down abruptly on the steps, too dizzy to stand.

  Joe clutched Roger’s coat as if ready to punish him for being so cruel. “Blast you, Selby, cut the dramatics and tell us everything before I wring your neck.”

  “There’s no need for threats, Santori. While you two have been cozying up here doing God knows what, your grandmother, Susannah, has had a heart attack. One of the neighbors found her in a snowbank and called an ambulance. She’s at the hospital.”

  “She—she’s alive?” Susannah could barely whisper.

  “For the moment,” Roger said. “Come on, Susannah. I’ll take you to the hospital.”

  She felt as if she were swimming in Joe’s dark eyes, but it didn’t help the pang of guilt. Nor did the pressure of his hand on hers or the quick kiss he gave her temple to tell her that he understood. There was no need for words. Joe grabbed her coat from the closet and helped her into it. Roger opened the front door and waited, letting a blast of cold air into the house.

  Susannah rushed into the night.

  She endured an interminable ride to the hospital with Roger, who summarized the situation as best he could.

  “You’ll have to speak to the doctor for the whole story,” he said. “They wouldn’t tell me much. I’ve been scouring the whole town trying to find you tonight.”

  Susannah flushed. If only she’d known Granny Rose was so sick!

  Roger dropped her off at the front door, and Susannah rushed into the hospital alone while he parked the car. The intensive-care unit in Tyler’s hospital had only three beds, and Granny Rose was the sole patient. The nurses were sympathetic and kind.

  “She’s resting now,” the head nurse explained to Susannah outside the room. “The doctor’s been checking on her every hour, and we watch her monitors like hawks.”

  “Thank you. May I go in?”

  “We can bend the rules, I think.” The nurse smiled reassuringly. “Don’t wake her.”

  “Is she...” Susannah was almost afraid to ask. “How bad was it?”

  “The doctor who admitted her should give you that information. But at your grandmother’s age...well, it didn’t help that she spent so much time in the snow. The results of hypothermia in a patient her age—”

  “What was she doing outside?” Susannah cried. “I left her in the house. I can’t imagine... Oh, I should have stayed at home tonight. I should have...oh, dear.”

  The nurse patted Susannah’s arm. “Don’t let the guilt eat you up. You couldn’t have prevented anything. And we’re taking good care of her now.”

  Susannah nodded and tried to pull herself together. Then she went into the hospital room to sit with her grandmother.

  In the big bed, Granny Rose looked appallingly small and her face papery. An obscenely fat plastic tube had been fastened to her nose, and a bottle of some medication was dripping from an IV stand into her thin arm. Susannah choked back a sob at the sight.

  But she didn’t waken her grandmother. She tiptoed to the edge of the bed and sat down in a stiff plastic chair. Then she began a long vigil—of watching Granny Rose breathe and trying not to cry.

  Please don’t let her die, Susannah prayed. She’s such a vibrant woman. She’s still so young—young at heart. Don’t take her yet. I’m just learning the lessons she tried to teach me.

  The night crawled along, and Susannah’s only company was the equipment that monitored her grandmother’s
life. The beeps sounded terribly weak. The thin liquids that seeped into Granny Rose’s arm seemed inadequate. Susannah’s fear grew as the hours stretched into a dim winter morning.

  The doctor arrived at 6:00 a.m., and it was Jeff Baron, Liza’s brother. He knew Rose well indeed. He spoke with Susannah in hushed tones.

  “I won’t kid you,” he said softly. “Your grandmother has had a severe heart attack. Has she been under unusual strain lately?”

  Susannah nodded miserably. “We’ve had a busy week.”

  “Getting ready for Christmas, I suppose?”

  “Yes, but she saw Dr. Phelps. He was going to give her more tests.”

  “She’s had some severe arrhythmia problems, I understand. Well, that sort of thing can escalate into a heart attack if left untreated.”

  “Why didn’t he treat her, then?”

  “I’m betting Rose refused the drugs so she could be on her toes for Christmas. She’s a remarkable woman for her age, but this kind of condition should have been treated right away. Now, well, things aren’t good.”

  “What are you saying, Jeff?”

  The young doctor sighed. “I won’t make promises, Susannah. Let’s see how she manages this morning. We’ll be able to make more accurate predictions after she’s had some time to stabilize.”

  But Susannah could see Jeff wasn’t hopeful. Left alone again with Granny Rose, Susannah sank into the bedside chair and began to cry. She couldn’t help herself, and the tears flowed so forcefully that she began to hiccup, too.

  That was enough to wake Granny Rose.

  Susannah saw her grandmother’s eyes stir and open, and for a long moment, Rose stared at the ceiling of the hospital room. Then she forced her gaze to travel slowly to Susannah, who leaned forward.

  “Good morning,” Susannah whispered through her tears.

  Rose swallowed with difficulty and tried to speak. But she was very weak, and her voice wavered. “What happened?”

  “You’ve had a heart attack,” Susannah explained, then found she couldn’t say more. She grasped Rose’s hand and held it.

  Rose closed her eyes. “Damn,” she muttered.

  Susannah laughed and hiccuped again, but her face was covered with tears. “Oh, Granny Rose!”

  Rose lay quietly for a moment, as if marshaling her strength. Then she opened her eyes again and whispered, “It was stupid. I was running.”

  “Running! Whatever for?”

  “Gina,” Rose said. “Gina’s purse. Forgot it.”

  Susannah patted her hand. “Don’t talk about it now. Save your strength. Just rest. We want you to get better.”

  “Joe,” Rose whispered.

  “He—he’s not here. Roger brought me.”

  Rose’s brow twitched weakly. “Roger...”

  “Roger Selby. He’s been very kind, Granny Rose. He brought me here last night, and I think he’s still waiting outside. He’s worried about you.”

  Too weak to stay awake any longer, Rose closed her eyes. Softly, she said, “Hogwash.”

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  THE MORNING CRAWLED as only mornings in an intensive-care unit can. Susannah spoke with the day-shift nurses who came in often to check Rose. But mostly she watched her grandmother and silently prayed. Rose slept fitfully and woke once, but her mind had begun to wander and her few words made little sense.

  Exhaustion was seeping into Susannah’s bones, and her own brain was starting to function poorly. She dozed in her chair and found herself swimming in memories of the happy times she’d spent with her grandmother. It was Rose who had taught the young Susannah how to bake wholesome breads and make clear, tart jellies. She had coached Susannah at her sewing machine and taught her how to drive a car. They had gone berry picking every summer together and sneaked up to the lake to skinny-dip on hot August nights.

  Rose Atkins had been more than a mother, more than a friend to Susannah. She’d been both—and more. A confidante, a soul mate, a cheerleader. She’d been Susannah’s toughest critic. And her biggest fan. Over the years, she had called Susannah with great ideas for her television program. She’d given her advice on her love life and her career—but only if asked. She had loved Susannah unconditionally. And Susannah loved Rose back just as fiercely.

  What will I do if I lose you? Susannah asked silently, allowing herself some time to think selfishly at last. How can I be me if I don’t have you behind me, Granny Rose?

  Susannah sat forward and tried to talk to her grandmother. “Granny Rose? Please don’t leave me. You’re a fighter. You can get well if you try, I know you can. Don’t you want to take our sleigh ride this Christmas? And what about New Year’s Eve? We’ve got to drink ginger ale and play cards, just like always.”

  But Rose didn’t waken. Her heart seemed to grow weaker, in fact. The unsteady beat on the monitor became slower and more erratic as the hours plodded along.

  In the late afternoon, Jeff Baron came in again, as he had several times during the day. He stood beside the bed and read the nurses’ notes, then examined Rose gently. Then he called to her. “Rose? Rose, can you hear me?”

  With an effort, Rose attempted to rouse herself. She saw Jeff’s face above her and she waved weakly with two fingers of her right hand.

  Jeff tried to coax the elderly woman into answering his questions, but her watery gaze traveled to Susannah. In a feeble voice, she croaked, “Joe?”

  “He’s not here right now, Granny Rose.”

  “Yes, he is,” Jeff said, straightening from the bed. “You mean Joe Santori? He’s been waiting outside since last night. Would you like to see him, Rose?”

  Against her pillow, Rose’s head made the barest movement of assent. The doctor went out into the hall and called, “Joe? Would you come in for a moment, please? Rose would like to see you.”

  Joe ventured cautiously into the sickroom, still wearing the clothes he’d hustled into last night and looking unshaved. With a start, Susannah realized he must have arrived at the hospital shortly after she had and remained outside the room all through the night and day. A rush of love for him swept through her.

  The sight of Rose in the bed must have shocked him, Susannah could see. He couldn’t hide his surprise at how ill the elderly woman looked. Susannah realized she had gotten accustomed to Rose’s pinched white face, but Joe was seeing it for the first time. He looked quickly at Susannah, communicating a question, but she lifted her hands helplessly.

  Taking a deep breath, Joe slid into the chair beside the bed and grabbed both of Rose’s hands in his large ones. He bent close, mustering a grin. “How are you doing, Mrs. A.?”

  Rose blinked. “Not so good,” she whispered. “I’m dying.”

  Susannah gasped, and Jeff Baron reached for her arm and squeezed it, silencing her.

  To his credit, Joe didn’t argue. Bluntly, he said, “I’ll look after Suzie for you. You know that.”

  Rose managed a small smile. “Love?”

  “I love her very much. She’s stubborn on the outside, but she’s the sweetest woman I’ve ever known. I want to marry her and keep her here in Tyler, where she belongs.”

  That answer seemed to please Rose very much. Her gaze held his for a long time, shining.

  Then Rose sighed and closed her eyes. “Suzie?”

  Susannah rounded the bed so she could lean close. She kissed Rose’s cheek to let her know she was there. “Yes, Granny Rose?”

  “Roger.”

  “What about Roger?”

  Quite clearly, Rose said, “Don’t let him talk you into anything you don’t want to do.”

  Joe laughed. “You tell her, Mrs. A.!”

  Rose smiled, but she looked very tired. She seemed to grow smaller, and her chest barely moved as she breathed. Softly, she said, “I love you both.”

  Susannah put her head down on the bedclothes and wept, unable to hide her grief. For the first time she forced herself to face the truth. She stood on the edge of life without her grandmother. The woman who had
been proud and fiery all her life was ready to let herself be carried into the next world. And there was nothing Susannah could do to stop it.

  A long time passed—perhaps an hour or several—and neither Joe nor Susannah moved from the bedside. The doctor and nurses moved quietly in and out of the room, but there was nothing more they could do. Rose did not wake again.

  In the evening, Rose Atkins died peacefully.

  Susannah was strangely happy to be with her at the moment her spirit passed from her body. And she knew it clearly—that Rose was no longer with them, even though her body remained behind.

  For Joe, the moment Rose passed away brought an odd relief. He was glad to see her go so quietly. He had not been at the hospital when Marie died. That long-ago morning, he’d taken an hour to go home to check on Gina, and when he returned to the hospital, Marie was gone. He had been haunted by the guilt of letting her die alone. How many times had he wished he could live that hour over again? He had wanted to comfort her. But watching Rose, he realized the dying didn’t need the kind of comfort he’d assumed they did. Perhaps Marie had waited until he was gone before she let go of life. Perhaps she’d wanted to be alone.

  But Rose seemed at peace when she gave up. Joe hoped Marie had been just as relieved to die.

  At last, he got up from the bed and drew the sheet over Rose’s face. The nurses had come in, but it was up to Joe to help Susannah to her feet and hold her while she cried. She clung to him weakly, and he realized she was too tired to function.

  “Let me take you home,” he said, wiping the tears from her cheek with his finger.

  Susannah nodded, but she seemed unwilling to leave yet. Joe put his arm around her and guided her into the hallway.

  Gina was there, still waiting in the chair she had taken when she arrived at the hospital earlier that day. She stood up awkwardly. “Dad?”

  Susannah hesitated.

  Gina stepped forward, her face blurred with tears. To Susannah, she said, “I’m sorry. The doctor just told me that she died. She was...I really thought she was neat.”

  Susannah smiled weakly. “Me, too. Thanks, Gina.”