“Yes.” I walk pass a mirror and see that my eyes and face are swollen and red. I have to try to repair the damage before heading out to the hospital.
There is another long silence. I hear Donna sigh, “So no worries, kiddo, the guys and I are going over there in a few minutes. We’ll be with you through thick and thin.”
I know she’s trying to sound cheerful—but we both know we have absolutely nothing at all to be cheerful about.
After hanging up, I walk outside to clear my head and stand on the porch, looking out over the Sound. Usually there are sailboats and a few motorboats, but today there are none. Earlier, the weather report said that there was a major storm coming up from the south. The water is a murky shade of ugly slate gray, and the waves are getting angrier by the minute. From experience, I know that within minutes they can rage into huge, dangerous, crashing walls.
The air is cold—it must have dropped almost twenty degrees since yesterday and I shiver. I enter the house and get one of Mom’s warm button-down white Irish fisherman’s sweaters. I put my arms in the sleeves and smell my mother’ perfume, Child, which has a faint scent of gardenias. I close my eyes and imagine that my mother is right here, next to me, hugging me.
I wrap the sweater around me, put on a pair of old boots, and walk back outside. The wind has picked up and is starting to really whip things around. The small piles of leaves that the gardener left at the side of the house are whirling around like miniature tornados. I stand there for a minute and watch their dance.
I have to secure the sailboat and pull the two large kayaks into the barn before I leave for the hospital. I walk down to the dock and tug the boat closer. The wind tosses me around like a rag doll. Over and over again, I fall down, until I get a better grip on the rope and use all my strength to pull.
After struggling with the wind and waves, I’m able to drag the boat in closer. I secure it to the dock using strong sailor’s knots, the kind Gramps patiently taught me years ago. I feel exhausted, but I still have to pull the kayaks up to the barn—a task that can be challenging even on a sunny day. With the storm kicking my ass, it’s nearly impossible. I grab hold of the rope tied to the end of the first kayak, and pull. The barn is uphill, and the weight of the kayak and the force of the wind keep knocking me over. I feel a few raindrops, and then it begins to pour. Big stinging bucketsful of rain pummel me.
After being pushed down for at least the tenth time, I drop the rope, stand facing the water, raise my clenched fists, and with my wet hair flying in every direction at once, I scream at the top of my lungs. FUUUUUUUUUCK YOU, FUUUUUUUUUCK YOU, FUUUUUUUUUCK YOU!!!!!!!!!!!!
The wind is so loud that my screams are quickly absorbed, so even I can’t hear them. A question comes to my mind: When the people who truly love you die, does the same thing happen? Do you get absorbed by life until no one really sees you or hears you, or even cares for you any longer? I grab the ropes and pull again.
It takes forty grueling minutes, but at last the kayaks are stowed safely inside the barn. I walk back into the house, exhausted and freezing, yet feeling somewhat triumphant. I take off my wet clothes, make some hot tea, and lie down on the couch. I am totally spent and need to close my eyes for a moment.
Within minutes I fall asleep. I dream I am on a small fishing boat in the middle of the ocean. The sun is shining, and there isn’t a cloud in the sky. Everything is calm. I am quietly sitting on the edge of the boat, soaking in the sun and relaxing. Gramps is standing next to me, his old khaki-colored fisherman’s cap pulled so far down over his face that I can’t see his eyes. He is fishing calmly. Every once in a while, he whistles an unrecognizable tune and tells me to sing along. I say, “Gramps, I don’t know the song—please teach it to me.” He shakes his head, pulls the line out of the water, and recasts.
Without warning, the sky becomes dark and there is a booming clap of thunder. A large bolt lights up the heavens. The waves are getting bigger by the second. They pound the boat ferociously. I hold onto the side and almost fall overboard. I find a rope that is tied to the inside of the boat and hold on for dear life.
I look at the waves and see a baby bobbing up and down in the violent swell. The baby disappears. Without a second thought, I jump in to rescue it. No matter how hard I try, I can’t swim against the fierce current. My arms are fatigued, but I keep struggling to make headway. A wave appears in front of me. It’s the size of a small building. I look up and know I am surely going to die. This is the way my life is going to end.
I spiral down, down, down. My eyes are open and I am ready to accept my fate. I let go and feel my life slip away, slowly. Suddenly, I am lifted from behind by a powerful force. I turn around and see my mother holding me up with one hand. It is a younger, more beautiful Daisy. Her skin is luminous and she seems completely at peace. She holds me up and together we rise above the water, continuing higher and higher until we are in the clouds.
I scream, “Get the baby, Mom; you have to save the baby.” She lays me down on a cloud and turns around. There, next to her, is the guy from the photo, her first love, Steve Santini. In his arms he is cradling the most beautiful baby I’ve ever seen. He hands her to me. I take the baby and begin to cry uncontrollably. “Mom, how can I take care of this baby if I’m floating on a cloud?”
“We’ll bring you back to the boat and we’ll help you take care of her. She is for all of us,” Mom says, smiling. She hugs and kisses me.
The house phone rings. I wake with a start and leap up, expecting my mother to be right there. My heart is pounding and I’m breathing fast. I look around. I am still alone. The dream was so incredibly real. I even heard her voice and actually smelled her perfume. I am spooked and on edge. I have a peculiar feeling someone is watching me. I find the phone—it had fallen to the floor while I was sleeping. The call’s from the hospital.
“Hello?” My voice sounds shaky even to me. There is silence on the other end, and then I hear a man’s voice, muffled and soft. “Is this Lily Lockwood?”
I strain to hear him. “Can you speak louder? Who is this?”
“This is David Rosen, your mother’s….”
“Oh, thanks for calling,” I say. “Do you remember I came to see you?”
“You did? No, to tell you the truth, I’ve been so drugged up the last few days, I didn’t know where the hell I was or who the hell I was,” he says apologetically.
“Oh, that’s all right, no worries. Trust me, I could use a little sedation myself right now.” We both laugh.
“She’s not doing too well, is she?” he asks. I hear him choke—is he crying? “I saw her—she was staring straight ahead…”
“Yeah, I know.” I feel sorry for this guy. Whoever he is, he obviously cares for my mother. “How do you know my mother?” I ask.
“Well, that’s a long story—we’re friends. Actually, we just met,” he stammers
Was my mother having a fling with this younger guy?
“I’m about to leave for the hospital. I have a meeting with my Mom’s doctors. Can I come by to see you?” I ask, and grab my coat.
“Well, I’ll be in dialysis later in the afternoon for a couple of hours. You could either go to the dialysis unit on the fourth floor or come by my room before I go for treatment,” he says.
“Why are you on dialysis?” I have only a vague idea what it is.
“I have kidney failure,” he says matter-of-factly.
I open the front door, remember the storm, and go back up the hallway to get an umbrella.
“Oh, wow. I’m so sorry.”
“Yeah, well what can you do, that’s life. I guess I’ll see you later,” he says.
I take a breath and get ready to go into the eye of the storm.
There are a few orderlies in the elevator, chatting away and laughing. When I walk in, they become quiet. I see that the fifth-floor button has already been pushed. I decide to stop in and see David Rosen before going up to the ICU.
The door opens and I get out.
The orderlies are whispering behind me. At this point, I couldn’t care less who sees me walk into his room. The bed next to the door is still empty. The room feels different, more alive. The lights are on, and David is fully awake. A man is seated next to the bed with his back toward the door. Both he and David are laughing.
“Hi, I’m Lily—I promised you I’d stop by… but if you have company…”
The visitor stands up and turns around.
I feel like the air has been knocked out of me. He is about 6’1”, dark-haired, and handsome. But it isn’t just that he is handsome. In my industry, I’m around handsome men all the time. While you never get completely immune to it, like everything else, you get used to it.
It is more than this stranger’s wavy dark hair, blue eyes, and dimples. He has an aura about him. I can’t put my finger on it. I feel an electric shock go through me when we look into each other’s eyes.
I have to make an effort to look away and focus on David. He looks genuinely happy to see me. He says, “Hi, Lily, thanks for coming. I’m glad I’m not drugged up like the last time. Sorry about that. Be honest—did I drool?”
“No, of course not… well, just a little,” I tell him.
They both crack up, and David makes the introduction. “Lily, this is my baby brother Robbie. Robbie, this is Daisy’s daughter, Lily.”
He extends his hand and I shake it. Zap! Another electric shock. This time it starts at my fingertips and travels through my whole body. He doesn’t seem to notice.
He looks into my eyes and says, “It’s so nice to finally meet you. I know your Mom’s going through a bad time. I’m truly sorry.”
“Thank you, I appreciate it. Listen, I can come back another time.”
“Robbie’s just leaving. He doesn’t have time for more than a drive-through visit. He’s a big-time doctor at New York Hospital and he’s getting ready to head back to Africa with Doctors Without Borders. I came up from Dallas and was in New York for a couple of days. Since he couldn’t fit me into his busy schedule, I figured I’d have to pull something mighty drastic to get him to honor me with his presence.” He gestures to all his bandages.
Robbie turns pink and chuckles. “I’m only a resident, the low man on the totem pole at the hospital. I work round the clock.”
“Lily, don’t let the leather jacket, boyish good looks, and Southern ‘shucks, ma’am’ charm fool you. He’s a rising star. He’s always been a superstar back home in Dallas, in high school, on the football field, but now in NYC, he’s a rising star in the medical world.”
I’m not sure if David is bragging or being sarcastic—there’s a smile on his face, but there seems to be an edge to what he’s saying. Robbie seems uncomfortable.
“Have you heard of Dr. Preston Wells?” David asks. I nod my head. Everyone knows about Wells. He is the top cardiology surgeon in the nation—maybe in the world. He’s made the news because of a hot new cardiac something or another he invented that has since saved many, many lives.
David continues, “Of course, after meeting my baby brother, he’s taken this wunderkind under his wing. He’s grooming him for a big future once he’s back from Africa.”
Robbie looks more than a little uncomfortable.
“Wow, impressive,” I say. Still recovering from the last electric zap, I try to avoid looking into Robbie’s eyes. I now understand why people say things like “there’s a spark between them.”
Robbie moves away from the chair. “Why don’t you sit down, Daisy? I’m leaving, anyway.”
“See that, the man’s always on the run,” David says.
“I have to get going, really. It was a pleasure meeting you,” he says to me. He turns back to his brother and said, “Feel good, bro. I’ll ring you up tomorrow. And don’t forget to call Ma back—she called when you were in dialysis. She’s flying out and wants to let you know when.”
“Okay, did anyone ever tell you that you’re a nag?” David says, and smiles.
After Robbie leaves the room, I focus my attention on David and am glad to see that a lot of the wires and monitors from the other day are gone. He still has plenty of bandages on his face, and his arms are still in casts. I wonder what else has happened to him. He told me on the phone that he goes to dialysis. I didn’t have a chance to look it up on the internet to find out what it entails.
After his brother leaves the room, he seems to relax. He has a nice face, open and friendly, with very sincere blue eyes. He just seems… I guess likeable is the word that comes to mind. He looks vaguely familiar, like I’ve seen him before. Is he an actor, or someone I may know from the industry?
“Have we met before?” I ask, still searching my memory banks to try to put the face and the place together.
“No, why do you ask?”
“Oh, nothing,” I say. “You seem familiar, that’s all. Are you an actor?”
He breaks out in a belly laugh and says, “That’s a big no! The last time I was on stage was in Mr. Morelli’s second-grade class. I was a tree in a play about ecology.”
We both laugh. He’s easy to be around. Is Mom having a hot, steamy love affair with this guy? David seems just a few years older than me. But he really is pretty cute and fun. I hope they are having a thing. I hope she is having a wonderful, wild, sexy time with him. I remember the last conversation I had with her. Before I became obnoxious and vile, she told me she had something important to share with me. Maybe she was going to tell me about her sexy younger man. Mom, a cougar? Wow! I guess it’s possible.
David continues, “I’m gonna leave the acting to you.”
“So what do you do?” I ask.
“I’m a carpenter. Both my dad and Robbie are doctors, so I figured someone needs to represent the blue collar workers of the world. I actually graduated law school, but flunked the bar three times. I figure I’ll hammer a couple of two by fours until I take it again.”
Oh, fantastic, a soon-to-be lawyer. I wonder if there’s a huge lawsuit barreling toward me.
“Wow, a doctor and lawyer in the same family—your mother must be very proud,” I say. Maybe I can charm him into not suing the pants off us.
“Yeah, she’s pretty proud of both of us, I guess.”
“That’s wonderful—my Mom’s like that, too,” I say. My eyes start tearing up again, and I change the subject. “I would never take you and Robbie for brothers, that’s for sure. I mean—you look nothing alike.”
“I was adopted. Good news for Robbie though—two years after they adopted me, Mom was finally able to get pregnant. I tell him he owes me big time.” He smiles and continues. Seriously, he’s really a great guy, everyone loves him. I’m more the rebel of the family—the black sheep. But we have one of those all-American families. Even though Dad’s a cardiologist like Robbie, he always found time to play sports with us and go to our games. Our house was the one all the kids hung out in. Mom always had something cooking or baking.”
He leans back. He has a strange look on his face.
I say, “My mother is a great Mom, but baking and cooking—not so much. More like ordering in or eating out.” He laughs again.
“So tell me what happened—in the accident, I mean.” I brace myself.
He sighs, “Well, it all happened pretty fast. We were on the Long Island Expressway—is that what it’s called?” I nod my head, and he continues. “It was dark and raining pretty hard. Your mother was going—not too fast, around sixty or so. There were no other cars around, just a stretch of the expressway and our car. The rain was pouring down hard, and we could hardly see. Suddenly, a deer leaped out of the woods and ran across the expressway. Your Mom tried to avoid hitting it, which she did, but we swerved, the car went out of control, and it flipped and crashed. They say I went through the windshield, but I don’t remember. A damn deer, can you believe it?” he says, almost to himself.
“I am so sorry.”
“It wasn’t Daisy’s fault—she couldn’t think of hurting something living, could she?” He lo
oks at me. I shake my head, knowing he’s right. Mom doesn’t even like to kill bugs. She scoops them up in a napkin and sets them free in the backyard, saying, “You’re free, you’re free—now make something good with the second chance you’ve been given.”
David continues, “I was brought to the hospital, unconscious, with a broken pelvis, a slashed spleen, a cracked tailbone, broken arms, and a damaged left kidney. They operated on me almost immediately. I’m a friggin mess!” He laughs, trying to make light of his injuries.
“That’s why you’re on dialysis?” I ask, and he nods.
“I had an accident in high school. I wasn’t the star quarterback in the family—I spent most games on the bench. But this one game, I got a chance to play. I got blindsided by the linebacker and totally messed up my right kidney. My left kidney was good… until the accident.”
“So is this temporary?” I ask.
David turns his head and looks out the window and says, “Well, that’s what they were hoping for, but it turns out that this kidney’s pretty messed up too. They say it won’t get any better.” He smiles at me. “Dialysis does the same thing your own kidney does. Anyway, they put me on a donor list, and maybe within a couple a years, I’ll get a kidney and be good as new.”
I feel so bad for him. (Take the money, take the houses—have it all.)
He smiles and says, “Hey, cheer up; I always land on my feet, no worries, except this one time when I was catapulted out the windshield.”
Tears come to my eyes. He sees them and says, “Hey, that was a joke. Shit, I meant to make you laugh. Come on, Lily, smile, you’re gonna make me feel like crap. And you’ll never want to visit me again!”
I put on a fake smile. He tells me to try again, and I do.
“I have to tell you, finding Daisy was the best thing that ever happened to me, even with all this,” he says, and points to the bandages.
It is time for me to tell him about my mother. I take deep breath. “David, I’m waiting to hear the results of the tests. So far, it’s not good news.”
The Seeds Of A Daisy: The Lily Lockwood Series: Book One (Women's Fiction) Page 18