by Dianne Drake
Paul drew in a quick breath and continued. “It wasn’t what I wanted, and definitely not what I expected at this place in my life. But now it’s all I can think about. The two of us, working it out together, whatever that turns out to be.”
Solange shut her eyes and concentrated on the rain falling down on her. This is what she had feared most, and now it had happened. And it couldn’t be undone. “I can’t, Paul. You’ve known that all along, that I won’t be involved. Not with you, not with anybody. It was a wonderful day, but it’s over.”
Her tears mixed with the rain now. The bitter with the sweet. “I’m sorry, but I can’t.” Now it was over between them. All of it.
CHAPTER TEN
“I HEARD there’s a storm coming in this evening or tomorrow. I want to be back at the infirmary before it hits,” Solange told Ayida. Frère Léon was off to one of the villages and somebody had to go into Abbeville to pick up the lab results for Hennrick Vareaux. Solange suspected an underactive thyroid, and she needed the final confirmation before she put him on a course of drugs. For the past three weeks Frère Léon had run the errands to Abbeville, and more specifically to Paul’s hospital, but today that wasn’t going to be the case. No one was in the infirmary and she had no appointments out in the villages until the day after tomorrow, so the rest of the afternoon was to be spent going to a place she’d tried not thinking about for the past twenty-one days.
A quick trip down, a quick trip back. If Paul did happen to be there, she would be cordial. How are you, Doctor? How is your fundraising going? That would be sufficient, especially as he had made no move to return to The Mission since that night she’d rejected him. Of course, she didn’t blame him for that. How could she when he’d given her his heart and she’d thrown it right back at him?
“And you’re going to take some time for that handsome man of yours?” Ayida asked.
“He’s not my man,” Solange snapped.
“Then why do you get so grumpy when we mention him? And sometimes I see you staring off at the mountain, and from the moony look on your face you’re certainly not thinking about medicine.”
“I get grumpy because you bring up the subject of Dr Killian at least ten times a day, and I’m tired of it. That’s why!”
“If you’d get over yourself and go after him to tell him you’re sorry for sending him away like you did, I wouldn’t have to keep talking about him.” She chuckled good-naturedly in spite of Solange’s sour mood. “It makes no good sense to me, putting him off like you do when it’s as plain as Frère Léon’s bald head that you’re in love with the man. And in these parts we all know that only the fool turns his, or her, back on love. I wouldn’t have got myself six kiddies of my own if I had.”
Solange cast her an angry look. “Well, we all know I won’t be having six kiddies, don’t we?”
“If the womanly thing is such a bother, fix it.”
“Why didn’t I think of that? I’ll just call my doctor and ask him to put my ovaries back in.”
Ayida sat down on the bench next to Solange and put her arms around Solange’s shoulders. On the other side of the compound, Keskeya was instructing a few children in the fine art of the hacky sack. Even when Paul wasn’t here, his presence was, in so many ways. Louise Babin was having amazing results with her arthritis treatment and weaving baskets galore now. The news on Tsombé Patchou was encouraging, too. In another few weeks he would return here to the infirmary for observation, then a few weeks after that he’d go home.
Yes, Paul was everywhere, and every time she saw his influence, the wound opened even more. “I’m sorry,” she said to Ayida. “It’s not easy.”
Ayida sniffed impatiently. “It’s not easy because you’re keeping your womanly thing from that man!” She gave her head a sharp, exasperated shake. “That’s what you’re doing, isn’t it? Hiding it from him?”
“Because my womanly thing is none of that man’s business.” She couldn’t do this, not now, so Solange patted Ayida on the arm, then squirmed out of her hold. “I’ll be back by dark. Tell Frère Léon, when he returns, that I’ll be starting clinic a little earlier than usual tomorrow, and if he doesn’t have other plans I’d like for him to hike to the villages with me for the next couple of days.”
“I know you don’t want my opinion, but I’ll give it to you anyway because I’m old enough I can do that and get away with it.” She twisted to look Solange directly in the eye. “This is no good, what you’re doing. You’re wasting time that you’ll never get back. When I think of all the time I wasted with my man Souie…” She paused to brush away a tear starting to slide down her cheek. “They’re gone from you all too soon, and after that is when you’ll be regretting even more that you didn’t have all the time with them that you could have had. I had thirty good years with Souie and if I had the chance for one more minute, I wouldn’t be sitting here all grumpy over something that can’t be helped, like you’re doing.” The tone of her voice went soft, and a yearning smile crossed her face. “I’ve got no more chances with my man, but you’ve still got a chance with yours.”
“That chance passed me by,” Solange said, bending forward to kiss Ayida’s cheek.
Paul stepped outside onto the porch for no other reason than he felt trapped inside the hospital today. In fact, for the past three weeks, every time he returned here, that feeling of claustrophobia set in. It wasn’t the walls that confined him, though. It was his thoughts. And Solange’s rejection. The more he thought about it the angrier he got, and being away from Kijé helped during the hours when he had enough to do to occupy his mind. But in those lean minutes when he allowed his thoughts to wander, that’s when it hit him again—that verbal slam to the gut that nearly doubled him over.
And now, being back home, it was all spinning around him one more time. Deep down, he knew Solange had feelings for him. He wasn’t so blinded by his own feelings for her that he’d lost all objectivity. She did care for him, and she was the kind of woman who didn’t step lightly into a relationship. That was something Paul trusted with all his heart. But, damn it, he certainly hadn’t expected a total rejection from her. Maybe a put-off, or a promise for something later, or even a casual commitment to meet whenever they could. Any of those would have been fine, even though at the time, stupidly enough, he’d been thinking something more permanent. Like marriage.
Yes, that was stupid. But her reaction…
He wasn’t over it. Didn’t know how he could be. Not when there were so many reminders of her…the tap-taps, the fragrances, the whole damned island!
Paul glanced at his watch. Frère Léon would be there shortly to pick up the lab results. He’d been very good keeping Paul informed about Solange. Not that it mattered. But, still, he had to know. Just because she’d flatly rejected him, that didn’t mean that he’d flatly fallen out of love. And he looked forward to the little tidbits of information Frère Léon always brought him. It was probably just a pathetic effort that, in the end, would get him nowhere. But right now it still connected him to her, and he needed that connection very badly. Right now, though, right at this very moment he was as angry as hell at himself for being angry as hell at Solange. So maybe this distance was good. Because he needed to be away from her and have a good, rational think about the whole exasperating situation. If he was lucky, he would put it into its proper perspective, if that was at all possible now, given his feelings for her. Then in another week, when he returned from his next business trip to Boston, maybe he wouldn’t be in such a state. And the week after that…
“We need to talk,” Solange said, stepping into Paul’s office. She hadn’t wanted to see him, but what Ayida had said…Paul deserved an explanation. He was making plans for a future with a woman who couldn’t give him what he wanted. As much as that was a private matter, she’d thought about it for the entire drive into Abbeville and had decided that he had to know. It was only fair. Then he could get over it and find another way.
But now, seeing the deep
scowl set into his brow, and the fact that there was no longer a twinkle in his eyes… “You look tired,” she said softly.
“Would you care?” he snapped, not bothering to get up from his chair.
“Of course I care, Paul. But that’s not the point.”
“But it is. That’s always been the point, Solange. What you care about. And I was a fool because you made that pretty clear right from the start, and like an idiot I went and fell in love with you anyway because I thought…” He drew in a sharp breath, expelled it in a huff, and shook his head. “It doesn’t matter what I thought. You did what you told me you would do, and I should have listened to you in the first place when you said that you wouldn’t get involved.”
“But I didn’t tell you everything,” Solange cried.
“You told me enough,” he said, spinning his chair to face the window. “You warned me away from you, then your father warned me away from you, and, like an idiot, I didn’t take the hint. Not from either of you.”
“My father?”
“None other…He said that I’m not settled enough, and that you need someone who’s settled. But he’s wrong, isn’t he? You’re afraid of being settled. You’re afraid that I will settle you.”
“Paul, I didn’t know he’d said something to you!”
“That’s who he is and what he does, Solange, and I can deal with it. But it really doesn’t matter now, does it? Apparently it takes a hurricane to hit me over the head, because I really did believe that we’d work it out in spite of our fears, our jobs, our pasts, your father…But we won’t, Solange. You won’t let us.”
She didn’t blame him for being angry. Perhaps it was for the best, at least as far as Paul was concerned. Now he wouldn’t be saddled with guilt over walking away from a wasteland of a woman because he wouldn’t have to know. Or saddled with staying for the same reason. “I didn’t mean for it to end like this between us, Paul.”
“Yes, you did. You’ve told me all along that I was only a colleague to you, and that you only wanted my professional services. You have those now, Solange. And that’s all there is.”
“Paul, please—”
“I’ve got to go,” he said, standing and heading to the door. “Bijou has the test results for you.” Then he was gone, leaving Solange alone in his office, trying to hold back the tears until she could get back to the privacy of her truck.
She deserved this, and she wasn’t angry with Paul for being so angry with her. But it did hurt much more than she could have possibly known it would.
“Get inside!” Solange yelled to Ayida. “And tell Frère Léon to see that the storm shutters are all in place. I’m going over to the infirmary to secure it, then I’m going to make sure the donkeys are safe in the shed. Don’t worry if I don’t make it back to the chapel until the worst of it is over. I’ll ride it out in the infirmary. Just be sure the three of you stay safe.” The wind was picking up fiercely now, and the rain was coming down, but not so hard it was a worry yet.
She’d made it back to The Mission just before nightfall and had spent most of the night fretting. Paul’s anger, her father’s interference…Nothing there had induced sleep. Then this morning, as she’d been about to drag herself out to her first stop, the storm had started rolling in. It was difficult to gauge these things. This one had been predicted to be a tropical depression at first, then a storm. Eventually there had been talk of a hurricane, but closer to Haiti. “I know I wanted something to take my mind off my personal problems,” she grumbled, securing the doors to the medicine cabinet, “but not this.”
Bolting down the storm shutters, essentially throwing everything in the small building into total darkness as the electricity had flickered out with the wind a while ago, Solange decided to go back to the chapel. Alone in the dark with her thoughts wasn’t the way she cared to pass her time. There were too many thoughts of Paul rattling around in her head for the hours in the dark, humid solitude she was about to endure, so she ran to the door, threw it open and stepped outside.
The rain was coming down in torrential gusts and two steps out the door it pounded her backwards, into the front wall of the infirmary. She still wanted to fight her way across to the chapel, but good sense was taking hold. It was too far away, with so much open area between here and there. Too dangerous out in the open like that. “Guess it’s the infirmary after all.”
She was almost back inside when Gertie let out a bray that cut right through the wailing wind. The donkeys! They hadn’t been secured in the shed as she’d thought. Right now they were standing in the middle of an open pasture, still grazing and oblivious to the weather. And much too vulnerable to survive the storm.
She had to bring them to safety, or they might die!
Bracing herself against the wind, Solange pulled herself along the front of the infirmary, clutching at the boards of the wall, then on around to the side, one agonizingly slow step followed by another. She paused briefly, pushing herself flat against the boards when a small uprooted tree went flying by as easily as flower petals drifting on a gentle summer breeze.
“You’ll be fine,” she said to herself. She’d been through these storms before. Just never outside. And this was beginning to make her nervous. “I don’t know, maman,” she cried, ducking her face from the wind to grab a breath. As she turned her head, Solange noticed that the donkeys were fast disappearing into the dense gray sheets of rain. This was getting to be a dire situation, because if the storm didn’t kill them, they could die of fright for sure.
She was putting herself at risk, though. The same risk as the donkeys. And the chapel? It was a sound structure that had survived a century of this. At least her friends inside were safe. And smart, for not being out here in the gale.
“Just get Gertie,” she said, trying to bolster her courage. “Get Gertie and the others will follow.” Such a simple thing, really. Walk right out there, grab her and bring her back. Except that rain was stinging Solange’s skin like shards of glass, and the intensity of the storm was increasing so quickly, and with so much fury, she could barely draw a breath. It was probably the same for the donkeys, she thought. Perhaps worse, since they weren’t sheltered by the infirmary on one side.
“One try,” she gasped. That’s all she would have to get the donkeys. Only one try, and after that she had to think of her own life. “Gertie,” she yelled, as she stepped away from the building, hoping that the donkey might come to her voice. “Come here, sweetie. Come on…” The wind slapped the rest of her words right back in her face, and she had to duck her head away from the force again to catch a breath.
Solange attempted her second steps out from the wall, but once again the wind caught her, knocking her right back into the wooden frame, so hard this time it punched the breath right out of her.
In the struggle to breathe again, her head started to go light, then she could feel a tingle spreading through her limbs as the result of lack of oxygen. At that moment, if she’d had enough breath to scream Paul’s name, to beg him to come and help her, she would have. But he was long gone, and safe. Right now he was sitting in his office, looking out the window at the storm…In was a nice picture of him in her mind for that instant, and she closed her eyes to keep it from leaving her. “Paul…I do love you,” she whispered, as the tears overtook her; tears of sadness more than fright.
Then suddenly, as if Paul had come to fight for her, she was able to take in a breath. Then another and another. Finally, when she was sufficiently sure she could breathe normally enough to have one more go at rescuing the donkeys, she turned to the pasture, only to find that they had wandered over to her and were waiting there, as if they were ready to be led away.
Minutes later, once Solange was safely inside the infirmary, along with the donkeys, she headed straight to one of the beds and cried herself to sleep.
“It’s stopped,” Solange commented to Gertie. She’d had a good long sleep through it all, which she’d so badly needed, and now it was time to go outs
ide, see what kind of damage had been done, if any, and start the clean-up. That’s the way it always worked after a storm. Get rid of what was destroyed, fix what could be fixed, and call Étoué and some of the others to come and help, if there was a need. Which there usually was. “Looks like you three are going back to the pasture, pronto.” And none too soon, judging from the mess on the floor.
As she stepped outside, what struck her first was that it was so still. Nothing stirred. There were no sounds.
Immediately, Solange bolted to the side of the infirmary to assess the entire area and— “No!” she choked, frozen in a moment existing in that abyss somewhere between total reality and surreal terror. The chapel! It had collapsed in on itself. It was a pile of rubble, and her friends…“Mon Dieu!” she screamed, breaking loose from the abyss and taking off at a dead run to the pile of debris.
Three of the exterior walls were still standing, but the roof had collapsed almost completely around them. “Ayida,” she screamed. “Keskeya! Frère Léon?”
“Ayida and Keskeya are safe,” Paul called, stepping out from behind a pile of rubble. “I haven’t found Frère Léon yet.”