Cedric’s features registered an eager welcome, and Portia could see by the expression on Nelson’s face when he came through the low doorway and saw her that he was as shocked by and unprepared for this meeting as she was.
Worst of all, in the cramped space there was nowhere for him to sit. He stood a few inches away, leaning on a cane. She could feel his warmth, smell his familiar scent, even catch a whiff of coffee on his breath.
“Hello, Portia.” She caught the strain in his voice, but he smiled at her before he turned to Cedric.
“I was glad Gordon called, because I’d just picked up the photos I took on my last training flight,” he said. He tipped them out of an envelope and held them up for Cedric, describing each one in vivid detail.
Portia barely listened. Instead, she was remembering how it felt to be in Nelson’s arms, to laugh with him, to lie beside him at night. How his skin smelled and tasted. How the furry pelt on his chest felt soft to her palm. How he snored when he lay on his back and how he reached for her the moment he awoke. And she couldn’t deny the gaping hole inside her chest where her heart should be.
How laughable that she’d thought, even for an instant, that she might be getting over him. She loved him as much as ever, and to know that it was over between them hurt worse than anything she’d ever experienced.
“Juliet’s in the hospital,” Portia said to fill in the silence when Nelson finished with the pictures. “She had to have an operation.”
“What happened?” Nelson’s eyes filled with concern, and she explained once again, her voice thick, about the ectopic pregnancy.
“Is Stuart aware? I’ll bet Juliet wants him with her.”
“She does.” Portia was touched at how well he’d come to understand her sister. “My mother’s here at St. Joe’s with Juliet. I’m driving to Seattle to see if Stuart will come back with me.”
“When are you leaving?”
“Right away.”
“Why not let me arrange for a flight, instead?” Nelson’s offer was immediate. “A friend from the flight school has a private jet. It would be lots faster. I’ll go with you.”
Portia began to shake her head, but Nelson persisted.
“Look, it’s nearly dark out and it’s raining hard,” he reminded her. “Driving will take hours. The jet would get us there in forty minutes, tops. I’ll have a car waiting, and I’m familiar with Seattle. We can pick up Stuart and be back here before Juliet’s fully awake.”
Portia longed to refuse. The last thing she wanted today was to spend time with Nelson. It would be just too emotionally draining. But what he said made sense. She didn’t know Seattle at all, and driving there and back was scary. She’d never been much good with maps.
Cedric had been paying close attention. He caught Portia’s eye and tried to nod. He was obviously encouraging her to accept.
In deference to Cedric, Portia dug the paper her mother had scribbled on out of her pocket and handed it to Nelson. In doing so, she knew she was accepting the help he was offering.
“I’ll line up the flight,” Nelson said. “I’ll be right outside.” With a promise to Cedric that he’d visit soon, Nelson left.
“Go.” Cedric’s faint voice had an urgency.
Portia smiled at him and caught a glimpse of his aura. A shiver ran down her spine. The aura was fading, disappearing.
“Cedric,” she blurted. “I can’t leave you, not like this, not now.”
He smiled at her. “Gordon’s…coming.”
She felt torn and raw, stretched paper thin by the conflicting demands of those she loved. She should stay with Cedric. She needed to go for Stuart. She didn’t want to be alone with Nelson. She’d promised Juliet.
“Go,” Cedric breathed again, and she realized she had no real choice, but still she hesitated. On impulse, she bent and kissed Cedric on the lips. “Good night, my dear friend. I’ll come and see you the moment I get back, no matter what time it is.”
He moved his head just a little in a nod, and the effort it took to speak brought sweat to his forehead. “‘Adieu, adieu, and yet again, adieu,’” he quoted, and tears glimmered in his beautiful eyes.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
NELSON WAS WAITING OUTSIDE, as he’d said.
“By the time we get to the airport, the plane will be fueled and ready for us.” Without touching her, he walked beside Portia toward Emergency, where she’d abandoned her car.
“You’re barely limping at all. You’re not even on crutches anymore.”
“The last of the casts came off two days ago.”
“Congratulations.” There was something else she had to say to him, and it was difficult. “I’m very grateful for your help, Nelson. But—”
“But it doesn’t change anything between us,” he interrupted. “I’m aware of that.” His voice was steady, reassuring. They’d reached the car and he held out a hand and gave her a lopsided smile. “We’re just friends, Portia, I know that.”
Her insides felt as if they were collapsing, but she mustered a smile in return and took his hand. “Friends,” she agreed through the thickness in her throat. “Thanks, Nelson.”
Friends, bullshit. Just the touch of her hand was enough to set him off, and he had to remind himself that nothing had changed. There were still twenty-three days to live through before he’d know whether he even had a future to look forward to. but it took every ounce of willpower to restrain the urge to drag her into his arms and kiss her senseless.
He held the car door and she climbed in behind the wheel. As he got in beside her, his cell phone was ringing, and for the rest of the ride to the airport he was busy trying to track down someone who knew where Stuart Mays was living. He was grateful to be busy. It kept his hands from wandering to Portia.
By the time they were airborne, he had an address for Stuart. During the short flight they talked about Cedric and Juliet and his mother, and in the silences he tried not to look at Portia.
It seemed only moments from the time they took off until they were coming in for a landing. It was raining in Seattle, although not as hard as it had been in Vancouver.
The car he’d ordered was waiting, and after he’d spoken with the pilot about their return trip, Nelson slid behind the wheel.
“You’re okay driving?” She couldn’t disguise the relief in her voice.
He grinned at her. “I’m not exactly in racing form, but I can manage city streets fine.”
It took more than half an hour to drive from the airport into town and then locate the downtown address Nelson’s friend had supplied him with. He parked in front of a run-down apartment hotel and he and Portia went inside.
The place smelled of tobacco and urine. A bearded man with a belly sat in a rocking chair in the lobby. He pointed at the stairs when they asked for Stuart. “Kid’s on the fifth floor, 508, Edgar’s place. Elevator’s broken. Young folks got better legs than us geezers, so they get the rooms with the view.” He cackled and went back to watching a hockey game on the minuscule television mounted high on the wall.
They climbed one steep flight of stairs after another. Nelson could hear Portia’s breath coming fast after the first few flights, and he was forced to slow down and rely more and more on the cane as the ache in his hip and feet grew fierce.
They were both panting by the time they reached the fifth floor.
Nelson knocked on 508, and they waited. He knocked again, harder, and after another interval, a key turned and the door opened.
Portia stepped forward. “Hi, Stuart.”
“Dr. Portia?” The young man rubbed his eyes with his knuckles as if he thought he was dreaming. He’d obviously been asleep; his hair was sticking up on one side and there was a mark from a ribbed blanket down one cheek. His deep voice was thick and slow.
“How come you’re here, Dr. Portia?” His voice took on an excited tone. “Did you bring Juliet with you?” He stepped into the hallway and looked both ways several times. His shoulders slumped when he realiz
ed she wasn’t there.
“Sorry,” Portia said gently. “Juliet isn’t here. This is my friend Nelson. It’s good to see you again, Stuart.” Portia smiled and reached out a hand, and Stuart shook it formally, for a long while. He then took Nelson’s hand and did the same.
Nelson hadn’t met him before, and he was impressed with the young man’s physical condition and the strength of his grip. Stuart wasn’t tall, but he was strong. He was wearing an undershirt and a pair of sweat pants, and the muscles on his arms and across his chest were well defined.
“I live here now with my friend Edgar,” Stuart said proudly. “My friend Edgar helped me move from Bernice’s house. Edgar says I’m an adult. I can live where I want.” Stuart rocked from one foot to the other and his brow furrowed. “Bernice and I had a fight. She’s real, real mad at me. She’s gonna tell my mother on me.”
“Edgar’s absolutely right. You can live where you want,” Portia soothed him. “Good for you for making the decision. Do you think we could come in and talk for a few minutes, Stuart?”
“It’s my life. That’s what Edgar says. You can come in, sure. Edgar’s not home yet. He’ll be here at ten-fifteen. He gets off work at ten and then he walks here. He’s a janitor. Why didn’t Juliet come with you, Portia? I’d really like to see Juliet.”
The apartment was small, dingy and sparsely furnished. It had a combination kitchen-living room, and through an archway Nelson could see into the bedroom, with its narrow twin beds.
Nelson sat on the sagging sofa and Portia chose a battered armchair. There were two posters of sleek, modern cars on the walls and a large picture of Elvis.
Portia plunged right in. “Did Juliet tell you she was going to have a baby, Stuart?”
His face lit up. “Our baby. Yup, she told me. That’s why I moved from Bernice’s house, see, because of our baby. Bernice says no way I could be a father, but I could. I know I could. Bernice took all my money, and I need money for the baby. Edgar helped me bring my stuff here, and I got this good job that I really, really like and I’m saving money. Look.”
He went into the bedroom and returned with a dog-eared bankbook. He handed it proudly to Portia. “Edgar helped me. He knows all about banks and stuff. I already have eighty-nine bucks. When I have five hundred bucks I’m going to take a bus and get Juliet and bring her here. We can get married and I’ll get our own place and a bed for the baby and some clothes and diapers. Juliet already has some clothes for the baby, but they need lots of clothes and diapers, Juliet says. Babies need.”
Nelson had to swallow hard because of the lump in his throat.
“Stuart, there isn’t going to be a baby.” As gently as possible, Portia explained what had happened to Juliet. She went over it twice before Stuart understood, and when he did, he covered his face with his hands and started to weep.
Portia put her arms around him and let him cry it out. “Juliet’s asking for you, and we thought maybe you’d want to be with her. Do you want to come back to Vancouver with us now, Stuart, and see Juliet?”
He nodded and sniffled and then blew his nose hard on the tissue Portia handed him. “I want to be with Juliet. I really, really do. But I have to go to work tomorrow. I set the alarm. I can’t be late.” His brow furrowed anew. “And Edgar won’t know where I am.”
“I spoke to your boss earlier this evening,” Nelson said. “How would it be if I called him now and you told him there’s been an emergency and you have to go back to Vancouver?”
Stuart thought that over. “Okay. I’ll tell him about our baby and tell him I really really need to see Juliet,” he finally decided. “Juliet needs me.”
“If Edgar gets off work at ten, he should be here soon. And you can explain to him what’s happening,” Portia added.
Stuart’s boss was understanding, and at exactly ten-fifteen, the door opened and Edgar entered. He was perhaps forty…tall and thin, with a self-confident air. He eyed Nelson and Portia suspiciously.
“What’s goin’ on here, buddy? These relatives of yours or somethin’?”
Stuart introduced everyone, and once again Portia related why she and Nelson were there. Clearly Edgar, too, had some form of cognitive impairment, because she had to go over the story several times.
When he finally understood, Edgar gave Stuart an affectionate tap on the shoulder with his fist. “Hey, buddy, sounds like you need to be with your lady. C’mon, I’ll help you pack your gear.”
They shoved clothes and toiletries into a backpack. When it came time to leave, the two men hugged awkwardly.
“Stu, you remember what I told ya, now,” Edgar instructed. “You gotta live your life your own way. Ya gotta do what ya gotta do.”
As a philosophy, Nelson figured it pretty well covered all the bases. Again, he had to swallow hard against the lump in his throat.
The trip back to Vancouver was swift and uneventful. Portia had been concerned about Stuart’s reaction to flying, but she should have trusted his fascination with all things mechanical. He asked Nelson one question after another about the small, sleek aircraft, and he was thrilled when Nelson and the pilot showed him the instrument panel and how it worked.
But once they’d landed, it was Juliet he talked about, almost nonstop during the long drive to St. Joe’s. There was no doubt about the depth of his feelings for her.
Nelson thought about the enormous courage it had taken for Stuart to move out of his sister’s house and assume control of his own life for the first time ever. It had also taken guts to come to Vancouver tonight, and he felt humbled by Stuart’s bravery.
When they finally reached the hospital it was almost midnight. A tall, strikingly attractive dark-haired woman met them in the hallway outside Juliet’s private room. Nelson could see Portia’s patrician features mirrored in this older face, although Lydia’s eyes were a clear and piercing emerald instead of smoky gray.
Portia introduced both Stuart and Nelson to her mother, adding a quick explanation about Nelson and the jet.
Stuart held out his hand to Lydia, and when she took it, he pumped it up and down and said, “How do you do, Juliet’s mother? I hope you like me, but if you don’t, that’s okay because I gotta live my life my own way. Is Juliet in that room? ’Cause I need to see her now. I need to see Juliet.”
He went in alone and closed the door decisively behind him.
“Well, that’s one of the most direct and unusual introductions I’ve ever had,” Lydia remarked after a startled moment. “Let’s go sit in that waiting room down the hall. The coffee is abominable, but at least no one’s there. I guess everyone’s gone to bed except us and the nursing staff.”
Her eyes went over Nelson like lasers, and he wondered if her psychic ability included brain scans. “You and I need to get acquainted, Nelson.”
He’d intended to leave, but instead he found himself following Lydia down the hall, wondering if this was how a lamb felt being led to the slaughter.
LYDIA’S WORDS SET OFF alarm bells in Portia.
Exactly what was her mother going to say to Nelson? She wasn’t noted for her tact. Now Portia wished heartily that she’d never confided in Lydia about her love life. She also wished Nelson would do the polite thing and go on home, where he belonged at this hour. But Portia couldn’t exactly accept his help one moment and order him to disappear the next, could she?
Lydia, however, was the soul of discretion. She chatted about racing cars—one of her husbands had owned one—and asked about Nelson’s accident. She thanked him for being so helpful tonight, and he mentioned an acquaintance, a retired racing driver, who lived in St. George’s and owned a nightclub. It turned out Lydia had been there. They talked about other clubs they’d visited, until Portia’s head started to ache.
She debated the dangers of leaving them alone together and decided to chance them. “I think I’ll go see how Stuart and Juliet are doing.”
The door was still closed. Portia opened it an inch and peeked inside. Stuart was sitti
ng on the bed, holding Juliet’s hands between both of his. She was propped up on pillows; her face and his were wet with tears.
“Hey, guys, can I come in?”
Portia went over and hugged her sister. It was Stuart who spoke first.
“We’re gonna get married,” he said in a no-nonsense tone. “We’re gonna get married today.”
“Tomorrow, Stuart,” Juliet corrected him. “Remember the doctor said I can go home tomorrow, in the morning, so we can get married in the afternoon. Right, Portia?”
“You can’t stop us, either,” Stuart added, giving Portia a belligerent look. “Nobody can.”
Portia smiled at him. “Oh, Stuart, I wouldn’t want to stop you. I think it’s wonderful. Congratulations.”
“I told you Portia would be happy for us. I told you so,” Juliet said, giving her sister a wide, watery grin that faded as another thought struck her.
“Where’s our mother? Did she go back to the hotel?”
“Of course not. She’s just down the hall, and she’ll be thrilled to hear about your plans. She loves weddings. Look at how many she’s had herself,” Portia pointed out, adding with just the barest touch of malice, “I’ll bet she’ll arrange everything for you, just the way you want it.” That would keep Lydia busy for the rest of her short stay.
And their mother could also sort out just exactly where Stuart and Juliet were planning to live, Portia decided. If it was Seattle, it would involve a major amount of reorganizing. These two certainly couldn’t live with Edgar. They were going to need a lot of counseling.
“Portia, I can’t have any more ba—bies,” Juliet’s face crumpled. “The doctor came and told me.” Her woebegone expression was heartbreaking.
“I know, honey,” Portia said. “I’m so sorry.” She held her sister close and let her grieve. But there was no point in dwelling on the sadness. “Look, I’ll go get Mother and you can tell her what kind of wedding you want.”
Lydia and Nelson were deep in conversation when Portia came through the door. Lydia broke off in midsentence.
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