“This is neat,” Connor said as he held the fragile ornament up to the light to see it better.
“Merry Christmas, Connor.”
“Merry Christmas, Abby.”
He pulled her into his arms and kissed her until the world rocked beneath her feet. When he released her, they could only stare at each other. Breathless with what she was feeling, Abby managed to gasp, “Would you mind doing that again, please?”
“Not on your life,” Connor said hoarsely. “Once wouldn’t be enough, at least not for me, and I like you too much to let things get out of hand.” He gently pushed her away. “Give me ten minutes to get back to the frat house and call me with your phone number in Charleston. If you give it to me now, I won’t remember it. Hell, I’m not sure what my name is right now. Have a safe flight,” he called over his shoulder as he raced off in the crunchy snow.
Abby stared after him, her eyes wide, her body trembling, until his long, lanky form was out of sight. Then she raced into the dorm and ran up the flight of stairs to the room she shared with Bunny. She barreled through the door, her eyes on her watch. Ten minutes. Ten minutes until she heard his voice again. Taking off her hat and coat, she eyed the phone her parents had insisted upon because they hated the constant busy signals from the hallway pay phones. On the eighth minute, pure panic set in when she realized she didn’t know the name of Connor’s fraternity house, let alone the phone number. “Oh, God,” she whispered, panic rising in her voice. She snapped up her coat, hat, and muffler and ran out of her room.
Abby took the steps two at a time and then broke the cardinal rule of going out late at night without a partner. She ran, wings on her snow boots, as she raced around corners over crunchy snow, her breathing ragged gasps. When she finally reached the frat house, she had a stitch in her side and her head was so light she thought she would pass out. She jabbed at the doorbell. “Could you please call Connor Bradford,” she said between breaths to the student who opened the door.
Connor must have been close by because she barely got the words out of her mouth and he was there at the door. “Abby! What the hell! Are you all right? What are you doing here?”
“I—I didn’t know the phone number of the frat house, and I couldn’t remember the name to ask information. And since Bunny wasn’t back yet … There was—I couldn’t … think.”
A smile lit his face. “Yeah, I know what you mean. That was some kiss, wasn’t it?” He didn’t wait for an answer. “Stay right there while I get my coat, then I’ll walk you back to the dorm.” He put his hand on her shoulder. “Relax. Take deep breaths.”
Abby nodded, then closed her eyes and concentrated on catching her breath.
Connor returned momentarily. “I would have called you if you didn’t call me, you know.” He took her arm and guided her through the snow to the sidewalk.
“No, I didn’t know.” As soon as she glanced up, she felt her feet begin to slide. “Help!” she cried.
Connor caught her and steadied her. “Just in case you’ve got any ideas, I’m not kissing you again tonight,” he said firmly.
She felt her face flame. Surely he didn’t think she’d purposely lost her footing to trick him into kissing her again. He did. She could tell by the way he was smirking at her. “Okay,” she said, remembering what Bunny had said about being careful not to come off like she was easy.
“Okay?” he asked, sounding hurt.
“Un-huh, okay,” she repeated, waving a hand. “Thanks for walking me back.”
“Yeah, sure. No problem. I’ll just wait here till you get inside.” She took a step forward, then glanced back at him over her shoulder. “Go on now,” he urged, “before I change my mind.”
“Connor?”
“Yeah?”
She turned around. “Close your eyes.”
The moment he closed them, Abby leaned closer and kissed him. “That’s so you don’t forget me,” she said, pulling away and holding him at arm’s length.
“Jesus, Abby,” Connor said, then turned and staggered down the walkway.
Minutes later, Abby was sitting on the second-floor landing, still wearing her coat and hat, when Bunny bounded up the steps. “Whoa. What have we here?”
“What we have here, Bunny Webster, is a young woman who has just been kissed and who is in love. My toenails caught on fire, I grew hair in my ears, and my eyeballs stood at attention. What do you think of that?”
“Wow!”
“He said he’s going to call me at home. Do you think he will, Bunny?”
“If he said he will, then he will. One kiss, and you’re in love?”
“Uh-huh. What about you and Kyle?”
“He’s a great kisser, but I’m not in love. The word sex hasn’t come up yet. How about you?”
“No. Connor wouldn’t even kiss me a second time. So, I kissed him,” she said with a giggle. “I’m pretty sure I left him wanting more. Isn’t that the way it’s supposed to go?”
Bunny laughed as she helped Abby to her feet. “Shift into neutral, girl. It’s too early in the game to fall in love. Let’s see if we can’t tempt Steve Logan to part with a few of his beers. I saw him sneaking some in earlier today. Who’s hall monitor this week?”
“Steve is.” Abby laughed. “Let’s go.”
Bunny Webster sat down in the hospital waiting area with Carol Mitchell and shuffled the medical research papers Abby’s uncle had given her. “From what it says here,” she said, looking down at the most recent article, “I have to wonder if Abby has made the right decision. This whole thing is pretty scary if you ask me. Nevus Flammeus or as Abby calls it, portwine stains, are small marks,” she said, reading from the article. “Abby’s covers the whole side of her face. Surely, they aren’t going to laser the whole thing today, are they?”
Carol Mitchell puffed furiously on a cigarette she neither wanted nor needed. It was something to do with her hands. “They’re going to do as much of it as they can, which is just another way of saying as much as Abby can take. It’s going to be very painful. They’ll be burning her face. God, I want to cry. I feel so bad for that girl. Donovan, Mr. Mitchell, is up on all of this. He wouldn’t … he wouldn’t let Abby do this unless he thought it was the best thing for her. He loves her, as I do, just as though she were our daughter. The doctor doing the surgery is the best of the best in his field,” Carol said as she sat down on the bench with a thump. She lit a new cigarette from the stub of the old one and continued to puff.
“How bad will the scarring be if it doesn’t work?” Bunny asked in a tremulous voice.
Carol shrugged. “Young children react better and have a lower percentage of scarring. Most port-wine stains are not as large or deep as Abby’s. Donovan was against doing anything when she was little. Everything was still so experimental, and he didn’t want Abby treated like a guinea pig. One of the doctors in there is simply an observer. He’s going to be writing some kind of paper on Abby. It’s all for the advancement of medical science, so Abby okayed it. From what I read, there are a lot of different kinds of lasers, but Abby’s doctor thinks the argon laser is the best.”
Bunny consulted her papers again. “It says here that in 1980, these two doctors reported on a decade of work using that particular laser on three hundred twenty patients. Fifty percent were good, twelve percent were poor, and seven percent had scarring.”
“I read that, too,” Carol said. “The follow-up period is only four months, but I don’t think that’s long enough. I tried to explain to Abby and Donovan that more data is needed. They didn’t listen. Abby just wants to be normal, and Donovan wants whatever Abby wants. I … I went to the library and did some research on my own. I found a test group that was followed for a year after the treatment. Mild to moderate scarring occurred. Depending on the density of the stain it was still visible plus the scarring. Knowing that, would you opt for this, Bunny?”
Bunny squirmed in her seat. “I don’t know. None of us has walked in Abby’s shoes. I’m sure it
hasn’t been easy for her. She really doesn’t talk about it.”
“She never complains but I know when she was younger, she used to cry herself to sleep after I tucked her in.” Carol sighed deeply. “I guess I’m just a worrywart. There’s nothing I wouldn’t do for that girl. Nothing.”
“Is Mr. Mitchell going to stay with Abby through the procedure?”
“No. He just wants to make sure everything is okay, that Abby is wearing the protective goggles.” Carol put out her cigarette. “This can’t be much of a holiday for you, Bunny. Since there’s nothing either of us can do, why don’t we talk about something else? Tell me about college life, and if it isn’t a secret, who is Connor Bradford? He called after Donovan left with Abby for the hospital.”
“He’s a friend of Abby’s. A real nice guy. He … he doesn’t care about the mark. Once he caught Abby trying to turn away because she was embarrassed over something and it got darker. He made her turn around and gave her a little pep talk. She was okay with it after that. You and Mr. Mitchell would like him a lot.”
Carol resented Bunny’s assumption, but she kept a conversational tone. “Abby likes him, too, I take it?”
“A lot,” Bunny said with emphasis.
Carol’s eyes darkened. “What’s his major?”
“Journalism, just like Abby. After he graduates, he wants to go to work for one of the big newspapers in New York City.”
“New York City! Good grief. I don’t know why anyone would want to live and work in New York City.”
“Just in case you’re worried, let me assure you, he’s not a jock in any sense of the word. He’s a real regular kind of guy.”
“Worried?” Carol looked up in surprise. She didn’t think it showed. “I’m not worried,” she lied. “I just like to keep abreast of things, especially things that concern Abby.” She jammed her half-smoked cigarette into the ashtray.
Feeling a little uncomfortable talking about Abby and her love life, Bunny changed the subject. “I just love your Christmas tree, Mrs. Mitchell.”
“Around here, we always make a big deal out of Christmas. It was so much fun when Abby was little. Donovan used to make Santa tracks from the fireplace to the tree by pouring salt around his shoes. We told Abby it was snow. Then the year came when she asked why the snow didn’t melt. Bobby stopped believing in Santa several years back. He’s growing up, too. He’s been making presents like crazy all week. He’s kind of like Donovan and waits till the last minute. Did Abby say anything to you about what she might want for Christmas?”
“Not a word, but knowing her, if all you gave her was a card, she’d be happy. She isn’t a material person as I’m sure you know.”
“She never was. Now, her sister—Unbelievably so. And as for Bobby—He always liked the box better than the gift. The bigger the box, the better he liked it. We bought him a tenspeed bike. Donovan put it together last night. If I tell you what we got Abby, will you keep it a secret?”
“Absolutely,” Bunny said solemnly.
“A car. Well, it isn’t a car, it’s a four-by-four. One of those all-terrain vehicles. Donovan had such a good time picking it out. He’s even hired someone to drive it to Wisconsin so it will be there when Abby gets back.”
“Oh, she’s going to love it. It’s such a pain hitching rides.”
“I know. I’m not so old that I’ve forgotten. Oh, here comes Donovan.”
Donovan looked hopeful as he walked toward them. “Let’s get ourselves a soft drink and go outside, ladies. It’s stifling in here, and there’s nothing we can do.” He checked his watch. “We’re looking at three hours for the procedure and another hour until Abby is ready to leave. We could go into town and have lunch. What do you think?”
Carol looked at Bunny and Bunny looked at Donovan. “Whatever you two want to do is okay with me. You could drop me off at the house, and I can stay with Bobby.”
“Bobby doesn’t get out of school until three, and then he’s going home with a friend who is having a sleepover. This has all been planned for months. Yes, Donovan, lunch in town will do nicely. Abby was okay?”
“Abby’s fine. Perhaps fine isn’t exactly the right word. Jittery.”
“Is she scared, Donovan?”
“I don’t think so. If she asked once, she asked ten times how long before she healed. She didn’t like the doctor’s answer of ‘depends on the individual.’ She’s in a hell of a hurry to get back to school, that’s for sure. You’d think there was some guy waiting for her.”
Carol reached into her purse for her cigarettes. “There is, Donovan. He called this morning after you left.”
“You mean Abby has a boyfriend? I’ll be damned! That’s great. We need to check him out, Carol.”
“Mr. Mitchell,” Bunny said, “Connor Bradford is sterling. They don’t come any better than him. He likes Abby and isn’t put off by her birthmark. He’s a dedicated student and takes life seriously. He’s the kind of guy you and Mrs. Mitchell would pick for Abby.”
Carol bristled. There it was again—the assumption.
“Okay,” Donovan said, “we’ll go with your testimonial. Abby with a boyfriend. Are we happy with this, Carol?”
Carol proffered a big smile. “Of course we’re happy. Why wouldn’t we be?” Before he could answer, she said, “How about picking me up in front? I want to use the pay phone and check my messages at home.”
“Okay, meet you at the car. Come on, Bunny. All this worry is giving me a huge appetite.”
As soon as Donovan and Bunny were out of sight, Carol let out a long sigh. She’d known the day would come when Abby would get herself a boyfriend. She’d known it and dreaded it because of the changes that would inevitably follow.
All these years, Abby had come to her with her problems, and she had solved them, or at least made them better. In the beginning, the biggest problem had been Mallory. How many times, Carol wondered, had she punished Mallory on Abby’s behalf? Then there were the problems Abby encountered at school. Name-calling. Finger-pointing. Abby was never included in the children’s games or activities. There had been only so much Carol could do, but she’d done everything within her power to make it easier on Abby. Because she loved her— loved her as she would have loved her own child if she’d had one.
Now Abby would start turning to her boyfriend for help in solving the small problems and to be comforted. Eventually, if things got serious, she would turn to him for everything, leaving Carol out altogether, making her no longer needed.
There was no doubt about it, her days of having Abby all to herself were numbered unless … the procedure made things even worse … and … the boyfriend couldn’t take it and … She squeezed her eyes shut, not even wanting to think such a thing. She wanted the procedure to turn out well. She wanted Abby to look like the beautiful person she was inside. She wanted all that for her and more. Much more.
Her stomach clenched tight as she dialed the code to her home phone. She listened, making mental notes until she heard the last message. “Hi, Carol, this is Mallory. I’ll be in town over Christmas. I was wondering if I might invite myself for Christmas dinner. I promise to arrive late and leave early. I have presents for all of you. If you think a visit will make you uncomfortable and you’d rather I didn’t come, I’ll understand. You can leave a message for me at the school at any time. Happy holidays.”
“Happy holidays, my ass!” she shouted into the receiver. “I’ll leave you a message all right. I’ll leave you one you won’t forget!” She slammed the phone back into its cradle. “I will not allow you to spoil our Christmas, not this year. Not ever,” she muttered, then turned around.
The startled look on the face of the woman across from her reminded Carol where she was. With a calm she didn’t feel, she smiled at the woman and walked away.
CHAPTER SIX
Bunny looked up from the magazine she’d been thumbing through when she heard Donovan’s voice. She jumped up and ran to the trio walking down the hallway toward her
. She flinched as a lump formed in her throat at the sight of Abby’s face. “Oh, Abby, are you okay?” Abby looked at her through pain-filled eyes but didn’t speak.
“She’s in a lot of pain, right now, Bunny,” Donovan explained. “She’ll feel better when we get her home.”
Fifteen minutes later, Donovan pushed the automatic door opener and pulled into the garage.
Bunny popped out of the backseat before Carol or Donovan could get their seat belts undone and opened the right-front passenger door for Abby. “Give me your hand and I’ll help you out,” she said, ducking down and reaching in toward Abby. She couldn’t even imagine the kind of pain Abby must be suffering. Her face looked like raw meat.
“Relax, Bunny. I’m okay,” Abby said between her teeth, her lips barely moving. “I’m just a little shaky right now.” She held out her shaking hand to Bunny.
In spite of Abby’s brave words, Bunny knew her friend was anything but okay, but there was nothing anybody could do now except wait it out and hope for the best. Putting an arm around Abby’s waist, they walked through the garage to the kitchen door, her grip on Abby’s shaking body firm and tight.
Donovan bolted around to the front of the car and held Carol back until the girls were out of earshot. “It doesn’t look good, does it?”
“No, it doesn’t,” Carol said, glaring at him angrily.
Donovan hated it when Carol’s anger erupted. “This is one time I wish you disagreed with me,” he mumbled.
“Me too,” she said. She turned to follow Abby and Bunny into the house, shaking Donovan’s hand off her arm.
More often than not, Carol was an open book where her thoughts and feelings were concerned. Right then, she was madder than hell. Mad at him for encouraging Abby to go ahead with the procedure. But there were the other times—the times when she was a closed book, never giving him a hint of what she was thinking or feeling. Those were the times that made him think he didn’t know her quite as well as he thought he did. Thankfully, those times were few and far between.
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