Capture the Wind for Me

by Brandilyn Collins

  We soon fell back into our banter. But before I left, Derek turned serious. “Jackie.” He paused. I knew he fought with himself over something he wanted to say. A sigh escaped him. “I’m kinda tired.” He closed his eyes for a moment. “Will you come back tomorrow afternoon by yourself? We can talk. I’ll tell Mama; she needs to rest anyway.”

  I nodded. “Okay, Derek, I’ll find a way.”

  His fingers pressed against mine ever so slightly. “Don’t ditch on me, now.”

  That night I lay on my bed, looking at Greg’s picture, sliding his ring back and forth across its chain. Remembering the concert, his kisses, his promise that he wouldn’t leave me. My promise that I wouldn’t leave him. Then I thought of Derek—his long road back to recovery, his obvious pleasure each time he saw me, his fingers in mine. I thought of the boundary we’d crossed that day, and that I’d taken the first step. Why had I done that? What’s more, I’d promised to visit him at home, seeing him day after day. While Greg traveled far away from me, performing and surrounded by fans.

  Watch what you do with Derek.

  My parents want anything that makes Derek happy right now. And that happens to be you.

  As the voices of Alison and Katherine swirled in my head, I wondered what on earth I’d gotten myself into and what I would do.

  chapter 45

  The following day I wore yet another blouse. I had to.

  “I want to see Derek!” Clarissa complained just before Grandma The Delham arrived to take over baby-sitting. “Take me with you, Jackie.”

  “You can’t go, Clarissa.”

  “Why?”

  “Because.”

  “Because why?”

  “Just because, that’s all!”

  My sister stomped off. Robert watched her go, his face placid. He seemed to be the only one in our family that week who remained on even keel. Sometimes I wished I could be like Robert.

  “Tell Derek I miss him,” my brother said. “Tell him I have a new computer game, and I can’t wait to show it to him.”

  I tousled his hair. “Okay.”

  He regarded me silently, eyes falling to my blouse and the ring that he knew lay beneath it. Then he mushed his lips and focused out the window at nothing. Robert didn’t miss much. I knew what he was thinking. I opened my mouth to try to explain. But I didn’t know the explanation.

  I sought shelter from my brother’s eyes in my bedroom. I stood staring at Greg’s picture, remembering the concert and being with him.

  Alison, Millicent, Nicole, and other friends had phoned during the week, wanting to hear all about the concert. But I’d lost half my enthusiasm for describing it. Somehow it didn’t seem right, talking about all the fun I’d had during the very same evening that one of Bradleyville’s own had been so bruised and broken. Looking at Greg’s face, I felt cheated that I couldn’t enjoy those anticipated conversations with my friends. Then I thought of Derek and felt guilty for my selfishness.

  In my daily e-mails to Greg I’d been giving him updates about Derek—no trying to hide the fact that I was visiting every day. Greg also called whenever he could. He understood about my seeing Derek. At least he claimed he did. It was good of me to be willing to spend so much time in a hospital, he’d said just the day before. Then came the call that Friday afternoon while I was in my bedroom, staring at his picture. Bad timing. I felt awkward—admitting to Greg that I was waiting for Grandma to come so I could go see Derek. I chided myself that I had nothing to hide. So why did I feel like I did?

  “His parents are there too?” Greg asked casually—almost too casually. Had he heard a tone in my voice?

  I hesitated. “Usually. But I don’t think so this afternoon.”

  “It is just you and Derek?”

  “Uh-huh.” Lightness in my response, as if to say, So what?

  A pause. “Yesterday they are there?”

  A chill stole over me. How I wished I could hang up at that moment. “No, they couldn’t be. But they’ll be there tomorrow.”

  “Ah.”

  He said no more. He didn’t have to. I could practically hear his worries tumbling through the phone line.

  “I love you, Greg,” I said. “Your ring’s around my neck.”

  “I love you, Jackie. Don’t forget.”

  Grandma Delham arrived. I told Greg I had to go, hoping he would hear the reluctance in my voice.

  She eyed me as my hand lingered on the phone. “You all right?”

  “Fine. I’m just . . . it’s been a hard week.”

  “Yes. I know.” She patted me on the shoulder, making me wonder just how much she perceived things. “Give Derek our love,” she said. “Tell that boy the whole town is prayin’ for him, so he best get better in a hurry.”

  “I will.”

  I drove to the hospital, forcing thoughts of Greg and Derek from my head. I had to admit I had another worry—Daddy and Katherine. Daddy had driven to the hospital in the evening for the past two nights to sit with Katherine and her parents, but they’d had no time alone. Which they badly needed, as far as I was concerned. In the back of my mind I couldn’t help remembering what a good time Katherine had spent in Lexington, before and after the concert, and how she’d chattered like a jaybird about it on our way back to the hotel. I’d sensed tension between her and Daddy for the past few days. I wanted to believe it was due merely to Katherine’s concern over Derek, but something told me it was more than that. Seemed to me she needed to get herself regrounded with Daddy and Bradleyville in general, and facing such tragedy in her family was hardly helpful. No time to work on any problems with Daddy in the midst of that.

  No way around it—Derek had to get better soon. For the sake of a lot of people.

  Miss Connie had already gone by the time I reached the hospital. I wandered into the waiting room with a few minutes’ time before my first visit with Derek. An older man sat forward on the couch, head down and elbows on his knees, hands pressing the sides of his head. A woman—perhaps his daughter—sat next to him, arm around his shoulder. She and I nodded to one another. The sight of them unnerved me. They represented some recent tragedy, a new patient in the ICU. The three beds had all been occupied before. Where had the last one gone? To recovery—or not?

  Thank you, Jesus, I prayed, for saving Derek’s life. Thank you for healing him.

  Even in his weakness, Derek greeted me with a smile so warm, so happy with my presence, that it gripped my heart. “Hey,” he said. Right off the bat, he raised his hand to link with mine. I could not deny him so little. I slipped my fingers into his.

  “Hi. How are you doin’ today?”

  His face flinched suddenly. He closed his eyes, air seeping from his mouth.

  “Derek, what is it?”

  “Don’t know, just pain from the surgery. I didn’t take the pill they offered me. I wanted to be wide awake for you.”

  “That’s no good, Derek, you’d better take it. Want me to get the nurse?”

  “No. I can always call her.” He squeezed my fingers gently. “Tell me what’s up in your house.”

  “Not much.” I gave him Grandma’s message, which made him smile.

  “Tell me about you,” he said. “How are you feelin’ about the wedding now?”

  Something about the questions—how easily they came. Derek seemed to have lost his reluctance to discuss hard topics. “They need each other,” I told him. “Very much. Daddy would die if he lost her now. So would Robert and Clarissa. And she’s been so good to me, Derek.” I stopped short, realizing I shouldn’t have said that. “Good to me” meant helping me with Greg. “Plus, she needs us,” I rushed on. “I see that now. Maybe she needs us even more than we need her.”

  He considered my words, his expression twinged with pain. “Yeah. Think you’re right.”

  We felt silent. The machines blipped, multicolored graphs filling the monitors with his vital statistics. I heard low voices on the other side of the curtain. Probably the man and his daughter, visitin
g someone. His wife?

  “Could you get me a drink?” Derek asked. With my free hand I picked up the cup from the bedside table, positioning the straw into his lips. “Thanks.”

  Shoes squeaked across the floor. The nurse greeted the patient in the first compartment, behind me.

  “Jackie.” Derek moved our fingers slightly. “I gotta tell you some-thin’. Been practicin’ all mornin’. Better come out with it now before I lose my nerve.”

  A stillness crept over me. I knew what was coming and wished for some way, any way, to stop it. “Okay.”

  He licked his lips. “Here goes. I’m makin’ you and myself two promises right now. One, I’m goin’ to get out of this hospital and be totally better. Two . . .” He hesitated. “Two, I’m goin’ to win your heart.”

  I froze. In the next compartment, the nurse asked her patient in a loud voice how he was feeling. I heard a feeble answer. Metal clinked, something rattled. I gazed at Derek’s battered face and held his hand, and could not find a single word to say.

  “Surprised you, huh.” Derek adjusted his shoulders slightly against the pillow and winced. “Here’s the thing. Almost dyin’ does somethin’ to you, Jackie. Don’t know, I may have gone on forever and not told you how I feel, but now I think, well, life’s too short. Never know what’s gonna happen.” He smiled wearily. “Besides, I figure my lyin’ in this bed all messed up and you feelin’ sorry for me—I might as well milk it for all it’s worth.”

  I couldn’t help but smile. “Shame on you, Derek, takin’ advantage like that.”

  The nurse’s shoes squeaked away from compartment one. On the other side of us, the voices continued in low conversation. Someone backed into the curtain between the beds, and my eyes drifted to its settling folds, seeking diversion. I did not know how I could look at Derek for one moment longer.

  “Jackie.”

  Reluctantly, I tugged my eyes back to his.

  “I love you.”

  The words pierced right through me. I could not listen to them. Feeling Derek’s fingers in mine, I thought of Greg, and the way he held me; I heard his voice say the very same words. Then I thought of Derek’s vulnerability, and the trust he had in me, in himself, to say what he did. Of how much he needed me right now.

  “I love you, too, Derek,” I said lightly, as if I misread him, thinking he spoke only as a friend. Instantly, I regretted my tone. Derek didn’t deserve that from me, not at all. Not after he’d bared his soul like that.

  He moved his head. “No, don’t. Don’t say it till you mean it like I do.”

  “I’m—”

  “Don’t say anything, Jackie. Just . . . listen. Please.”

  My throat fluttered. I pressed my teeth together.

  Derek gave a long sigh. Swallowed. “I need another drink.”

  I fetched the cup for him. He drank slowly and long, as if sucking in courage. When he spoke again, it was almost as though he’d read my mind.

  “Jackie, no matter what you feel right now for somebody else, I’m the one you should be with.” I noticed he could not speak Greg’s name. “You don’t need someone who’s travelin’ all the time, someone whose life is a world apart from yours.” He squeezed my hand with what little strength he possessed. “You need somebody more like you, who understands your life, and who can be with you. That someone is me.”

  His words ran out. He sighed again, relieved and, I think, proud of himself. Then he turned down the corners of his mouth, twitched his head as if to say, So there.

  His face blurred.

  “Aw, I didn’t mean to make you cry. Uh, tell you what.” He tried to tease. “I’ll let you pick out my socks.”

  “Oh, Derek.” I shook my head. “If I picked out your socks, they’d be like one orange and one green. That was definitely your most interesting pair.”

  “Huh?” His brow creased in surprise, whether feigned or real, I couldn’t tell. “You mean I’ve been wearing the same colors for nothin’?”

  “Guess so.”

  “Why?”

  “Because . . . because mismatched socks were you, Derek.”

  He studied my face. “I thought you didn’t like that me.”

  “Well, I . . .”

  “See. You didn’t.”

  “Okay, maybe not. But now I do.”

  He blinked his eyes in a good grief expression. “Girls. They make no sense at all.”

  Wasn’t that the truth.

  “How ’bout this,” I ventured, trying to draw out the teasing. Thinking surely it was time to go. “Could we just talk about the sock thing later? I mean, with your cast and all, it’s gonna be a while.”

  Our curtain pulled aside, metal loops slinking against metal. The nurse stuck her head in. “Time’s up.” She disappeared, leaving the curtain partly open. I tried to hide my relief.

  “Come back next hour,” Derek said, anxiety tingeing his voice, as if he was sure he’d frightened me away for good.

  I wiped my eyes, my heart twisting for him. “I’ll be here, Derek. Don’t worry.”

  I couldn’t bear to sit in the waiting room for the next forty-five minutes. Emotions rattled inside me, forcing me out the door of the hospital into the sun-baked parking lot. I trudged to Grandma’s stifling hot car and drove the short distance to a park. There, I wandered aimlessly under the maple tree shade, watching kids play on the swings and trying to clear my head.

  I wished I could go home. I wished I’d never promised Derek to see him all afternoon. I wished I could see Greg. How could I put a stop to this? Derek needed me.

  Fortunately, the second time I visited Derek we talked about anything else and nothing at all. Looking back, I think both of us had said enough for a while. At 3:00, on my third visit, Derek was woozy from a pain pill, his words slow, long breaths in between. I stroked his forehead, avoiding his stitches, saying maybe he should just sleep.

  “Mm, feels good,” he mumbled. “Don’t stop.”

  He slept through my fourth visit. I stood by his bed anyway, one hand resting lightly on his arm, staring at his face. Praying that God would heal him completely. Then maybe by some miracle, a new girl would come to Bradleyville, turn his head, steal his heart. I told myself that’s what I wanted for him. But the oddest thing happened. At the mere thought, jealousy slunk through me like some predator in the night. Of course I denied the feeling. Why on earth would I be jealous?

  Five o’clock. Our last visit of the day. Derek was surprisingly alert, the pain momentarily masked by the pill. “Oh, no,” he said, “did I miss one?”

  “Don’t worry.” I took his hand. “I was here.”

  “What did you do?”

  I gave a little shrug. “Watch you.”

  “Oh.” He winced. “Did I snore?”

  “No,” I laughed. “That would be funny.”

  “Yeah, real funny. How’d you like to be asleep and tied to this bed, and me watchin’ you snore?”

  “No, thanks.”

  “Well, then.”

  I shook my head at him. “Derek. Sometimes I don’t know what to do with you.”

  He inhaled deeply. “Yeah, know what you mean.”

  For a moment, we simply looked at each other. He wiggled my hand. “Jackie.”

  “Hm?”

  “Kiss me.”

  My smile wavered. Talk about surprising me. Fleetingly, I wondered just how bold this new Derek would be once he was well. What would I ever do then? I couldn’t even handle him in a hospital bed. “Um. Right here? Right now?”

  “Like I’m goin’ anywhere.”

  “I know, Derek, but I mean it’s just so . . . sudden.”

  “About as sudden as a snowmelt in Siberia.”

  I had no comeback for that.

  He tugged my hand. “Come on.”

  I could feel Greg’s ring hanging against my chest.

  “If you don’t, you’re going to leave me lookin’ like a total idiot for askin’. Would you want that?”

  “I . . .’cou
rse not.”

  “Then come on.”

  Do it, some foreign voice in my head urged. It won’t matter.

  “Okay, how’s this,” he said. “I’ll close my eyes and wait.” His eyes shut. “See, I’m a sittin’ duck.”

  It won’t matter, Jackie. Just make him happy.

  Thinking nothing more, nothing at all, I leaned over the railing and down, feeling Greg’s ring swing out from my chest to lie against my blouse. Slowly, I lowered my face to Derek’s. His mouth twitched as he felt my nearness. I touched my lips to his, thinking to break away quickly. Instead, inexplicably, I hung there, not breathing. Then I pressed against his lips. He responded, his mouth warm and soft, unshaved hairs tickling my skin. Derek’s fingers tightened in mine as we kissed, his chin rising a fraction from the pillow as if he didn’t want to let me go.

  When I eased away, his eyes remained closed for a moment. Then a lazy smile spread across his face. He sighed with contentment. “That just made everything worth it. I swear I’d wreck my car all over again for that.”

  “Oh, please, Derek.” I chuckled shakily. “One accident’s enough.”

  He regarded me, eyes half closed, lips still curved in that silly smile. He gazed at me for so long I grew self-conscious. “I know,” he said finally, tease in his voice.

  “What do you know, Mr. Smart Aleck?”

  “You liked it.”

  “Well . . . sure. I liked it just fine, Derek.”

  “No. You really liked it. Me lyin’ here in this bed, all messed up, lookin’ like a train wreck. And you liked it.” For a moment, he basked in supreme satisfaction. Then he raised our linked fingers, pulling mine across his chest. “Do it again.”

  “Derek, come on.”

  “Don’t make me come outta this bed. You know you want to.”

  I can’t deny it—I did want to. Not just for Derek’s sake, but for mine. Before I knew it, I was leaning down to kiss him again. Somehow it lasted longer than the first time. As I pulled away, I couldn’t believe what was happening. What was I doing to Greg? How terrible I’d feel if he ever did this to me!

  I can’t remember what Derek and I said to each other after that. All I remember is that when I had to leave, he demanded a third kiss. God, help, I thought, wanting it and not wanting it. I have to get out of here. I simply did not know what to do. I kissed him again, briefly, my stomach feeling jumbled and quivery. I just wanted to run to the car and bawl.,