Next the dispatcher wanted to know if there was aspirin available. “Chewable, if possible.”
Lucy had none. She bit back a groan. At that moment, she almost wished she’d had valve-replacement surgery rather than repair. With an artificial valve, she just might have been on an aspirin regimen and could have whipped a bottle right out of her purse. Then again, she probably would have been on warfarin or...
Dear Lord, what did it matter? The point was she had no aspirin to give Viviana.
She asked Viv, “Do you have any aspirin?”
Viv gestured weakly toward the open door to her apartment. “Master bathroom cabinet...”
Her phone to her ear, Lucy raced inside and down the hall. In the gorgeous retro pink-and-black-tiled bathroom, she found what she needed. “Got them,” she told the dispatcher. She grabbed the bottle off the shelf and read the label. “They’re the regular kind, not chewable, 325 milligrams.”
“Are they timed release, the coated ones?”
“No, the chalky white ones.”
“That’s better than coated.”
“Wonderful. Perfect.” Lucy ran back down the hall and out the door to Viv’s side again.
The dispatcher gave her more instructions.
Lucy put the phone on speaker, knelt by Viv to set it down on the floor and then shook out one aspirin. She put her arm around Viv. “You need to chew this for thirty seconds before you swallow it. Can you do that for me, Viv?”
Panting, softly moaning, alternately clutching her chest and rubbing her shoulder, Viv managed a nod. Lucy gave her the pill and counted out the seconds as Viv chewed. It seemed the longest half minute of her life. “All right. Swallow.”
Once Viv had the aspirin down, Lucy picked up the phone again. The dispatcher stayed on the line with her, asking questions that Lucy answered as best she could, all the while holding Viv’s hand—the one that wasn’t tightly clutched to her chest.
After what seemed like forever but was probably no more than the five or six minutes the dispatcher had said it would be, they heard a siren coming on fast, stopping at full volume downstairs in front of the building. Lucy spoke gently, reassuringly, to Viv, who reluctantly let go of her hand so she could step inside the open door to the apartment again and buzz in the paramedics. Endless moments later the elevator doors slid open and two EMTs wheeled their EMS stretcher straight to Viv.
They were just assessing her airway, breathing and circulation and hooking her up to oxygen when Dami came flying down the stairs wearing nothing but a pair of black jeans, with Quentin right behind him.
Dami’s face was dead white. “Luce. My God. I heard the siren and I thought...”
She dropped her phone into her purse again, eased around the busy med techs and went to him. “It’s not me. Oh, Dami, it’s Viv....” He grabbed her against his broad bare chest and she thought how very glad she was to have his arms around her at a time like this.
“What happened?” he asked against her hair.
“She had a heart attack, I think.” Lucy looked up at him, drew strength from the simple act of gazing at his dear worried face. “The signs are all there—and I doubt they’ll let me ride along in the ambulance with her, but I need to go with her, be with her. Her family’s not in New York.”
“I’ll call for a car.”
“Miss.” One of the EMTs signaled Lucy. “She’s asking for you....”
Dami released her and she went to Viv, who panted out a series of instructions about looking after her place, about getting her little red address book from the drawer beneath the phone and calling her daughters. “And my purse... Insurance card...”
Lucy ran back into the apartment and snatched the large brown shoulder bag from the end of the kitchen counter. One of the EMTs took it from her. She bent close to Viv again and tried to reassure her. “I’m here. I’ll take care of all of it, and I’ll be following you straight to the hospital....”
“Sweet girl, God bless you....” Viv clutched for her hand again, but the EMTs were already wheeling her toward the open elevator doors.
Lucy called after them, “What hospital?”
One of them told her. They got on the elevator. The doors slid shut. Lucy stared at those doors, suddenly immobilized, images of all the times she’d been the one on the stretcher pounding in strobe-like flashes through her mind.
And then Dami was there, wrapping his big arms around her.
She clung to him. “We have to get going,” she said, and then she just stood there, holding him tight, safe in the circle of his embrace.
He pressed his lips to the top of her head. “The car will be here in a few minutes.”
“Oh, Dami...” The tears were pushing, trying to get out to turn into a flood that would surely drown her. She bit the inside of her cheek, drawing blood. That did it. The sharp pain brought her back to herself.
He kissed her temple. “Get your coat. Lock up both apartments. I’ll run up and put the rest of my clothes on and be right down for you.”
* * *
Once they were in the limousine and on the way, Lucy called Viv’s daughters to break the frightening news.
Marleah burst into tears. Shoshona was calm and thoughtful and then at the end said, “Oh, my sweet Lord. Just let her make it through....”
Lucy told both daughters that Viv had been conscious and still able to talk when they took her away. She promised she would be there until they had her stabilized, all the while sending silent prayers to heaven to match Shoshona’s spoken one: Please, God, let her make it. Let her pull through. She gave them her number and promised to call them the minute she knew anything more. They both said they would call the hospital right away and be there as soon as they could make arrangements.
When she hung up, Dami reached for her. She unhooked her seat belt, slid across the wide plush seat and settled next to him.
“We’re almost there,” he promised.
She rested her head on his shoulder and kept on praying that Viv would pull through.
* * *
Six hours later they were still sitting in the waiting area outside Cardiac Intensive Care, with Quentin standing guard a few feet away.
A doctor came out to talk to them.
They had Viv stabilized, he said, and the prognosis was good. They’d put her through the usual endless battery of tests and performed an angioplasty with stent placement. The angioplasty opened the nearly blocked artery that had caused Viv’s heart attack, and the stent, a small mesh tube inserted at the same time, would keep the artery open.
Even though she wasn’t family, Lucy talked the doctor into letting her go in and visit Viv briefly. As expected, Viv was exhausted and barely conscious. They’d given her a mild sedative to get her through the angioplasty without too much pain. She moved her hand restlessly against the sheet until Lucy settled her own over it, slipping her thumb into the smooth, dry heart of the older woman’s palm.
Viv closed her eyes tight. Still, a pair of tears leaked out at the corners and trailed down her temples into her short tightly curled hair.
Lucy bent close and whispered, “You are going to make it. And your daughters are on the way.”
Viv let out a tired little sigh at that and managed to give Lucy’s hand a weak squeeze. Lucy stayed with her just holding her hand, gently stroking her forehead, until the nurse came in and signaled it was time to go.
A woman came rushing into the waiting area about ten minutes later. She was tall, slim on top and generous through the hips, with honey-colored skin and blond-streaked dark hair. She carried a large shoulder bag and a small suitcase. Lucy liked her style. She wore knee-high black boots, dark tights, a short wool dress and a fabulous heavy coat that reached to midcalf. And especially around the mouth and eyes, she looked a lot like Viv.
Lucy stood up. She had Viv’s purse, which they’d given her at the front desk.
The woman spotted her and came right for her. “You have to be Lucy. I’m Shoshona.” She dropped the suitcase and they grabbed each other and held on tight.
Lucy tried not to cry, but a tear or two got away from her anyhow. “Your mom’s resting now. I know she can’t wait to see you....”
Shoshona sniffled a little, too. Then she took Lucy by the shoulders, looked in her eyes for a minute and gave her shoulders a squeeze. “I do believe you saved my mama’s life.”
“No. I just happened to be there.”
“That’s what I’m talking about. You were there and you did what needed doing and I am so glad. Thank you.” She swiped the tears off her cheeks with the back of her hand, which was as slim and beautifully manicured as Viv’s.
“I’m just so happy she’s pulling through.” Lucy held out the purse. “This is your mom’s. Her keys are in here, her wallet and cell phone, too— Oh, and there’s a small brown bag with her rings.”
A nurse appeared. “Mrs. Caudell?”
Shoshona nodded, then asked Lucy, “My suitcase...?”
“We’ll look after it,” Lucy promised.
“And the purse, too, for now?”
“Of course.”
The nurse led Viv’s daughter to the long hallway that led into the business end of the CICU.
Lucy took the suitcase and purse back to her chair. She slid them both under the corner table topped with a small artificial Christmas tree. With a long sigh, she sank down beside Dami. He took her hand and folded her fingers over a fresh tissue.
“So much for spending the day in bed, huh?” She sagged against him and he gathered her in, cradling her in the shelter of his arm, guiding her head down to rest on his shoulder. Again she felt thankful to have him beside her. The awful day would have been ten times worse without the constant comfort of his presence, of his strong arms to hold her when her energy flagged.
“There will be other days,” he reminded her softly.
His words warmed her—for a minute. And then she couldn’t help thinking that the other days they had together weren’t nearly enough.
Tomorrow and the next day, he had meetings. Maybe on Wednesday, which was their last day, they could laze around in bed.
One day for lazing. Uh-uh. No way was it enough.
Yes, Viv was going to make it and she was so grateful.
But why did their Christmas love affair have to fly by so fast?
* * *
Two hours later Marleah arrived. Though she was smaller and slimmer than her older sister, anybody could tell the two were related.
Lucy and Dami stayed in their chairs as the sisters shared a private moment. And then Marleah dried her eyes and went in to be with their mom for a while.
When she came back out, Shoshona introduced her to Lucy and Dami.
Marleah recognized him. “Mama’s had a heart attack and the Prince of Montedoro is hanging around the waiting room to make sure she’s going to be all right.”
They all laughed at that, tired laughter. It had been a hard day and it wasn’t over yet.
Then Shoshona said to Lucy, “You two go on now. You’ve been here all day. It’s way more than enough.”
Dami called for the car and then Lucy asked if maybe one of the two sisters wanted to go back to Viv’s place with them. The sisters agreed that Marleah would go. She could take their suitcases, rest for a while and then return to give Shoshona a break.
The drive was a quiet one overall. Marleah seemed deep in thought.
But then, as they approached the apartment building, Marleah shook her head. “This is it,” she said with certainty. “Mama can’t be living on her own anymore. Denver or Chicago. The day has come when she will have to decide.”
Lucy reached over and took Marleah’s hand. Marleah didn’t object—in fact, she held on tight. “Don’t worry about it now,” Lucy said softly.
“You’re right.” Marleah swallowed hard. “But the time has come, oh, yes, it has.”
* * *
They helped Marleah carry the suitcases up to Viv’s place. Quentin put them inside for her.
Lucy hugged her at the door. “I’ll be back at the hospital in the morning. Call me if there’s anything I can do before then.”
“I will,” Marleah promised. “You get some rest. Tomorrow, then.” She and Dami shared a nod and she went in. Lucy heard her engage the locks.
When she turned back to Dami, he said, “Tired?”
“A little.” She went to him, wrapped her arms around his waist and rested her head against his chest. “Life’s too scary sometimes.”
He stroked her hair. “Your friend will be all right.”
She looked up into his waiting eyes. “Yes. I believe that. I know she will.”
He kissed her, a light, sweet kiss. “Pack whatever you need for the night. And we’re taking the cat up to my place.”
“Good idea.” She intended to spend every second she could with him, and the time was flying by way too fast. She didn’t want to keep running downstairs to fill Boris’s food bowl and give him a hug. The cat could use the company, anyway.
So they collected Boris and all the necessary cat-care equipment and Lucy packed an overnight bag.
They stayed in that night. Dami cooked chicken cacciatore and Lucy had a large glass of wine. He took her to bed early and they made slow, tender love. She woke in the morning to the sound of Boris purring softly from down at the foot of the bed.
Dami came out of the bathroom looking sigh worthy, wearing nothing but a big white Turkish towel. “I’ve got a breakfast meeting at nine. I’m hoping to be finished by noon, but it could go later. I’ll call and let you know.”
She wanted to whine at him, to remind him that they had so little time left and he should get those meetings over with and get back to her fast.
But she caught herself. She had him with her only because of those meetings and whining never did anyone any good. She threw back the covers and went to kiss him good-morning.
He and Quentin were gone by a little after eight. She went down to her place to shower and change, stopping to knock on Viv’s door on the way out. No answer. The sisters were probably both at the hospital.
She ran into Marie, the super’s wife, on the elevator.
“I’m so sorry to hear about Viviana Nichols,” Marie said. “I talked to one of her daughters yesterday evening. They say she should pull through all right. I wonder if she’ll be moving to be closer to her family. It seems likely, doesn’t it, at her age? That’s such a nice apartment....”
“I have no idea what Viv’s plans are.” Lucy gave her a bland smile.
“How’s the prince? I didn’t realize you two were so...close.” The elevator reached the first floor. Lucy got off, Marie right behind.
“Fine,” Lucy said. “His Highness is doing fine. And yes, we are close. He’s a friend of the family.”
“But is that all?” Marie wanted to know.
“He’s been very kind to me.” Lucy headed for the door and couldn’t resist adding sweetly under her breath, “Last night, he took off all my clothes and was kind to every inch of me.”
“What was that, dear?” called Marie.
Lucy gave her a wave and called back, “Merry Christmas, Marie,” as she went out the door.
* * *
At the hospital, she sat with Marleah and Shoshona. The sisters reported that Viv was holding her own and would be in CICU for another few days at least. After that, if all went well, she would be out of intensive care and into a regular hospital room. If she continued to improve, they hoped that by the weekend she could go home.
The nurses let Lucy go in and visit with Viv briefly.
<
br /> Viv was awake but still very weak. She whispered in a ragged little voice, “Hello, sweet girl.”
Lucy’s heart lifted at the words. She pulled up a chair and sat by the bed until the nurse came in and said she had to go.
Dami called her at a little after eleven. His meetings were going late. “It will be after four, I’m afraid, before I can get out of here.”
Lucy, in a cab on the way back to the apartment building, tamped down her disappointment and told him that Viv was doing well. “So, um, call me when you’re finished?”
“You know I will.” And he was gone.
Lucy wanted to cry. Like some big spoiled baby, she wanted to burst into tears because they only had until Thursday and now most of today would be gone before she saw him again. Really, how silly and selfish was that?
She stared out the window at the people rushing by on the street, at the Christmas decorations and window displays, at the Salvation Army bell ringer on the corner and the strange raggedy bearded fellow wearing a dirty fringed rawhide jacket and a coonskin cap. He stopped to throw bills into the bell ringer’s bucket.
It was the happiest time of the year. All the Christmas songs said so.
What was there to cry about?
Nothing, she told herself. Not one single thing. Viv was getting better and she would be with Dami that night.
She had the cabbie let her off in front of the Paradise Diner, where she had a bowl of clam chowder and told Tabby about Viv.
Tabby pulled her up out of her seat, hugged her and asked her why she seemed so down. “I mean, she’s going to make it, right?”
“Oh, yeah. I’m sure she will. And I’m not down.”
Tabby gave her two bags of oyster crackers. “Where’s the prince?”
“Working,” Lucy grumbled.
“Uh-oh. You’ve got it bad.”
“Oh, I do not. It’s not like that.”
Tabby frowned. “Like what, exactly?”
“I mean, we’re just, you know, having fun....”
“How long’s he here for?” Tabby asked way too gently.
HOLIDAY ROYALE Page 16