What You Wish For

by Fern Michaels

  “Yes, I believe she does. Animals are amazing. They bring comfort, they love unconditionally, and they are loyal. Man’s best friend. A woman’s, too,” the vet added hastily.

  “She got me through some bad times. I can’t tell you how much I love her.”

  “I think I have a pretty good idea. Now that we have you all patched up, I think it might be a good idea if I set up a cot here next to Lucie. I’m about ready to call it a night myself. Not as young as I used to be. I’ll be retiring very soon. If you need me, just go through the door from the examining room and call me. I’ll sleep with one eye and ear open.”

  “I don’t know how to thank you, Dr. Davis.”

  “All the thanks I need is seeing you and Lucie getting better. Is there anything I can get you before I retire?”

  “No. You don’t have to get a cot. I can sleep in the chair. I’m going to have to leave in the morning. Daniel is going to be looking for me. He knows he hurt Lucie and knows I would take her to a vet.”

  “From what you’ve told me, I don’t think he’s going to come looking for you for a few days. I imagine he might be in the hospital himself. I can check that out in the morning. Call me if Lucie wakes up. I don’t think she will, but she might.”

  Helen nodded as she waited for the vet to return with a folding cot, blankets, and pillow.

  The moment the door closed, Helen opened the oversize kennel door and climbed in next to Lucie. Tears rolled down her cheeks. “Twinkle, twinkle, little star, how I . . .”

  In his upstairs bedroom, Gerald Davis picked up the phone and punched in a set of numbers. “Izzie, Gerry. I need you to come over to the office first thing in the morning. I have someone I want you to meet. She needs you, Izzie, and her dog Lucie needs you. The morning will be time enough, I’m sure. I knew as soon as I mentioned Lucie you’d want to barrel right over here. Trust me. Five-thirty will be fine.” The vet sighed. “You aren’t going to sleep, are you? Fine, come now. Use the front door. Coffee? I was thinking more along the lines of a double shot of bourbon. I’ll have it ready. I knew I could count on you. I’ll see you in a bit.”

  She was one hundred pounds of pure energy as she sashayed into Gerald Davis’s living room. “I hope no one saw me coming here at this hour of the night. It could damage your reputation, Gerry. Where is she?”

  “For God’s sake, Izzie, sit down and have a drink. The young lady and her dog are sleeping. There’s nothing we can do till it gets light, and I’m not sure we can do anything then. I’m not even sure the little dog is going to make it. I think she will, but I’m not sure. I’ve never seen anything so sad in my life. Well, maybe once before. Okay, okay, let’s go. Not a peep, Izzie. We look in the door, and that’s it. Swear!”

  “I swear. What took you so long in calling me?” the little woman squawked. Gerry ignored her as he tiptoed to the operating room.

  “Lord have mercy,” Isabel Tyger whispered as she wiped at a tear in her eye. She handed her tissue to Gerry, who gave his own eyes a quick swipe.

  In the kitchen, Isabel, hands on hips, her voice shaking with rage, demanded to know who the woman was.

  “I don’t know. I didn’t ask her name. I figured I was ahead of the game when she told me the dog’s name. She said her husband beat her. This time she gave back as good as she got. All these years she never fought back. Never defended herself. Tonight the husband attacked her dog. That was her breaking point. Some good might come of this, Izzie. You’ll take her to your shelter when she’s well enough, won’t you?”

  “Yes. She won’t leave the dog, you know that, don’t you?”

  “She can stay as long as necessary. I just want to make sure she has a place to go to. My fear is the husband might show up. He’s likely to canvass all the vets in the area.”

  “If he shows up, you lie, Gerry. Where’s the bourbon you promised me?”

  “Make me a double, Izzie. It’s going to be a long night, and we need a plan.”

  Isabel Tyger, wealthy philanthropist and lover of animals, poured generously.

  “I called you because . . .”

  “I know why you called me,” the diminutive woman said. “Drink up!”

  “No, Izzie, I need to tell you. She kept talking to the little dog, saying, I promised to take care of you for the rest of your life. I made a promise to you. She said it over and over. It took me back, Izzie. I remember you saying those exact same words, and there was nothing we could do. This is our chance now, yours, mine, and Artie’s. Do you understand what I’m saying?”

  “Yes, of course I do. I think you’re right. Thank God that motorist brought her to you and not that yuppie vet two blocks over. You look tired, Gerry. Go to bed. I’ll stay here with them. She’s going to be one very sore lady come morning. Aren’t you glad now I made you get that Jacuzzi? She’s going to need it. She looks familiar to me. I’ve seen her someplace before.”

  “If you figure it out, don’t wake me. Tell me in the morning. Thanks for coming over, Izzie.”

  “I guess it’s payback time for all the times I woke you and Artie at four in the morning to come out to the ranch.”

  “Go easy on that bottle. I’m just going to take a catnap. Wake me if things go awry.”

  “All right, Gerry. Sleep well.”

  In the blink of an eye, Isabel slid off the chair and trotted into the clinic, where she gently eased herself to the floor. She stared at the sleeping woman and dog, her thoughts taking her back in time to a place and a time she hated. She stretched out her hand to smooth the hair back from the young woman’s face, but her eyes were on the little dog. Tears rolled down her cheeks. She blinked them away.

  Sometimes memories were a terrible thing.

  2

  “The sun is about to come up, Gerry. Shouldn’t we be checking on your patients? Good Lord, I didn’t realize how long a night could be.”

  “We just checked on them thirty minutes ago, Izzie,” Gerald said, using the childhood nickname he’d favored for Isabel while they were growing up.

  “You haven’t called me Izzie for a while. Last night was the first time in a long time. The name always makes me smile for some reason. It makes me feel young again. But if I’m going to help this woman, you’d better call me something else in her presence. How about Billie?”

  “Okay, Izzie. Billie it is. And I know what you mean. I wish you would stop being such a recluse. You refuse to go out in public unless it’s something catastrophic like tonight. You don’t want to go to dinner or a movie when I do call or Artie calls. You’ll always be Izzie to me just the way Arthur is Artie. We’re old, Izzie, in case you haven’t noticed. I’ve made up my mind to retire next year. I’ll sell off the business, and we’ll go fishing every day.”

  “Did you just realize we’re getting old, Gerry? It’s okay, my friend. All three of us made a difference. We didn’t walk down the road taking up space or breathing other people’s air just to get to this point in time. We’ve all contributed.” Isabel’s voice turned as flat as the vet’s when she said, “They will remember us, won’t they, Gerry?”

  “Thousands of women will remember that you gave them a new lease on life with your shelters, Izzie. The high-tech world has named Artie ‘Business Leader of the Year’ five years running. I’m not sure about me.”

  “If there was ever a horse’s patoot, you’re it, Gerry! You’ve saved thousands and thousands of animals. You’ve made people happy, especially children. I remember the day you brought me forty animals and stood there with tears streaming down your cheeks. You marched right into the pound and stole those animals so they wouldn’t be put to sleep. God knows that, Gerry. You’re a savior.”

  “I couldn’t have done it without you and Artie. I didn’t have the money to feed them.”

  “You’re getting maudlin, Gerry, and I refuse to be a party to self-pity. Now pull up your damn socks and let’s check on your patients.”

  “You know who you remind me of, Izzie? That little woman, the doctor,
what’s her name? Dr. Ruth. You look just like her except you have red hair. You’re sassy like her, too.”

  “I’m going to take that as a compliment. You’re afraid, aren’t you, Gerald?”

  “Yes, Izzie, I am. Come along. Let’s see what we can do. If they’re still sleeping, we aren’t waking them. Agreed?”

  “All right, already. Let’s get to it.”

  “Shhh,” Gerald said, cracking the door to peer inside. “Listen.”

  “It’s going to be light soon, Lucie. We made it through the night. I know you hurt. I’m going to call Dr. Davis in a minute. You are such a sweet girl. You have to get better. I’m not leaving you. Just let him try to kick me out of here. I won’t let him. I’m going to stay with you until you can run like a rabbit. I’m going to get you a new ball. A bright red one. I might even have them put your name on it. They do that in those fancy dog boutiques. I don’t care what it costs. When we’re both better and I get a job, I’m going to get you the fanciest leash and collar I can find. You’re going to look like a princess. I promised to take care of you. Dr. Davis is helping me to help you. I won’t let you down. A promise is a promise. I need a sign, Lucie, just a little one. I hate him, Lucie. I hate him for what he did to you. ‘Twinkle, twinkle, little star ...’ Dr. Davisssss!”

  “I’m here. What’s wrong?”

  “It’s Lucie. She licked my hand. That means she’s going to be okay. That’s what it means, doesn’t it, Dr. Davis?”

  “Absolutely, that’s what it means,” Isabel said happily. “It is, isn’t it, Gerry?”

  “Let’s take a look. Do you think you could move over a little, young lady, so I can check my patient? I’m not asking you to get out. I’m just asking you to move. Ah, this is good, she’s awake. Iz ... Billie, get me some ice chips. We need to fix a new IV drip. We’re looking good here, young lady. I’m referring to Lucie, not you,” the vet said, addressing Helen.

  “Is she going to be all right? I want you to tell me the truth, Dr. Davis. I am not moving. I’m staying right here.”

  “I told you last night you could stay as long as you like. I never say anything I don’t mean. There’s a world of difference since last night. Lucie isn’t out of the woods yet, but I’d say her prognosis is getting better and better. I’m giving her a shot so she’ll sleep, which is the best thing for her right now. When you feel it safe to leave for a few minutes, you might want to shower and brush your teeth. There’s a Jacuzzi upstairs you might want to soak in for a while. I’d like to change your dressings and clean them up. Take your time. I’ll be in the kitchen. By the way, I’d like you to meet a very good friend of mine. Billie, this is Jane Doe, and this is her dog Lucie.

  “When you’re ready to leave, Billie will take you to a shelter. For now, though, she’s going to make us some breakfast. She makes wonderful waffles. Her coffee is just as good. Are you in pain?”

  Helen looked into the vet’s eyes and saw concern and compassion. Had she ever seen those two emotions? If so, when? She simply couldn’t remember. “Yes. My name is Helen. Helen Ward.”

  “I like Jane Doe better,” Izzie said. “Perhaps someday we can tell each other dog stories.”

  “I’d like that,” Helen said.

  “There’s a small lavatory over there in the corner. When you’re ready, we’ll be in the kitchen. I don’t start my office hours till eleven. If it will make you feel better, Billie will stay and help, and I’ll give the girls the day off.” Helen nodded gratefully.

  In the kitchen, with the door closed, the vet turned to his old friend, and said, “Why do they stay, Izzie? Why do they let some s.o.b. do this to them?”

  Isabel opened cabinets and banged doors. “Do you want the long version or the short version?”

  “I don’t want either one. I know why. I just said that to have something to say. She has bruises on top of old bruises. Scars, too. When she came in here last night, she said she’d been worse off. I had trouble with that statement. You saw her. What could be worse than how she looks now?”

  “I know the name, Gerry. I think I’ve seen her someplace or at least her picture. She’s a beautiful young woman. You’re right. We are getting old. I can’t remember things the way I used to.”

  “Let me ask you a question, Izzie. What do you think the chances are that this man will call the police or start to look for her? She said he would know she took the dog to a vet. Do abusers do that?”

  “Of course they do. They want their punching bag back. They need someone safe who’s afraid of them to take their anger out on. They’re gutless scum, and, in my opinion, no amount of counseling helps. I’ve seen it too often. If she’s willing, I’ll take care of her.”

  “Only if the dog goes along. It’s a package deal.”

  “I know that. I wouldn’t have it any other way. Damnation, I know that name. I just hate it when I can’t remember things.”

  “You have to shift into neutral, and when you least expect it, the answer pops up,” the vet said.

  “Smart-ass.”

  “Among other things. Are you going to Artie’s Christmas party on Sunday? It will be his first solo party since Marie passed away. We have to go, Izzie. I think his company party was last night. Maybe it’s tonight. See, I can’t remember either.”

  “I hate those damn things. You sit around drinking too much wine, you eat too much, you gossip too much and end up talking about everyone. You take some tacky present out of a grab bag and go home. I’d rather stay home and watch reruns of M*A*S*H. I don’t know why you even asked me that, since I never go. Are you going?”

  “Can’t. I have to cover for the Sanders’s clinic since I had to attend that do-or-die Thanksgiving dinner of yours. He won’t miss us. Artie will rag on us for a few days, and then he’ll forget about it. He’s done so well. Your shelters couldn’t function without that program he designed.” His voice turned sly. “We could stop in when the party is almost over. Just for a nightcap. I can use that confounded beeper if anyone needs me.”

  “God Almighty, that’s it, Gerry. That’s where I heard the name. Artie’s top man is Daniel Ward. That’s Daniel Ward’s wife in there,” Isabel said, jerking her head in the direction of the clinic door. “I’ve seen her pictures in ComStar’s newsletters.”

  Gerald Davis sat down on the kitchen chair with a thump, his mouth hanging open. “Artie hires people like that?”

  “Trust me when I tell you, Artie doesn’t have a clue. Men like Daniel Ward are pros when it comes to covering up. Dear God, I was going to put her name in the system today. We can’t do that now.”

  “Hold on, Izzie, you don’t know for sure . . .”

  “I do know for sure, Gerry. Artie has such high regard for Daniel Ward’s capabilities he was considering having him take over when he retires. I’m telling you, he doesn’t know, probably doesn’t even suspect. If he did, his secretary Michelle would have told me. She works at the shelter three days a week. She’s up on all this stuff.”

  “What are you going to do?”

  “Make some discreet telephone calls,” Isabel said.

  “I think I’ll take that pill now, Dr. Davis,” Helen said, limping into the kitchen.

  “Sit down, honey. I’m going to fix you some nice hot rum tea and some oatmeal. What in the world were you thinking of, Gerry, when you asked me to make waffles? Helen can’t chew. You have some straws, don’t you? Get her the pill, Gerry!”

  Helen sat down gingerly. “Thank you.” She felt tears welling in her good eye. When was the last time someone spoke so kindly, so compassionately to her? Never, that’s when. She held out her hand for the two blue pills in Gerald Davis’s hand.

  “Gerry, you make breakfast. I’m going to take Helen upstairs and help her into the shower. Where can I find some clothes? Dry blood smells terrible. I think we can wash her hair, don’t you?”

  Gerald nodded. “I’ll dress the wounds when you come down. Don’t worry if the bandages get wet. Just let the water sluice over he
r. I’ll sit with Lucie. I don’t think any of us are in the mood for anything but coffee anyway.”

  Helen allowed herself to be led away, each step agony as she followed the little woman’s spry steps.

  She refused to meet Isabel’s gaze as she stripped away her clothing. “No man will ever strike you again, my dear. You have my promise. I see your shame. You have to let that go. This is the first day of your new life. View it as such. In a day or so the Jacuzzi will work wonders for you. For now, step into the shower and let the water heal your body while I rummage for some clothing for you. Gerry’s sister comes to stay for weeks at a time. She might have left some clothing behind.”

  Helen stepped under the soothing warm spray. How good it felt. She felt warm and safe. There was no one lurking outside the shower door to assault her. There was no one waiting downstairs to strike her senseless. The good Samaritan who had brought her and Lucie here last night had done her the biggest favor of her life. “Thank you, God,” Helen said over and over.

  Outside the door, Isabel wiped at her eyes. “I thank you, too.

  “I found some clothes, Helen. Sweats. They’re probably going to be a little big, but, personally, I like roomy clothes. We’ll get you some new ones later today. I’ll pat you dry, honey. We don’t want to open any of your old cuts and bruises, not to mention your new ones. Stand still, and I’ll slip this over your head. Can you pull on the underwear and pants? Good girl. Socks will do nicely. We aren’t going to worry about shoes right now. Do you feel any better? Did the pills kick in?”

  Helen nodded. “You’re very kind. I am so grateful to Dr. Davis. What . . . what if . . . my husband . . . I think I hurt him pretty badly. There was ... there was blood all over the place. He won’t let that stop him. I know him. I know what he is capable of doing.”

  “Was capable. Those are the operative words. He can’t hurt you anymore. You’re safe now. Lucie is safe, too. Hold on to the railing and put both feet on each step. We have all day. Take your time.”