“I’m not leaving until you tell me. Was Sean here? In this house?”
He waved her off again.
“Dad!” she tossed the iPad to the floor and reached down, grabbing her father by the shoulders and shaking him. “Tell me if he was here! You have to tell me!”
“Abigail.” Jerome’s voice alerted her to the absurdity of the situation. She was shaking her own half-paralyzed father as he lay in bed, just because she’d seen an untouched glass of scotch sitting on a table in his office? She backed up in horror and shook her head.
“Oh my gosh. I’m so sorry, Dad. It’s just… I had such a tough day. There was this accident… and then I came home and saw the glass, and I…” she dropped to the floor and felt the weight of the world fall on to her shoulders once again.
Jerome walked over, helped Dad back into a comfortable position on the bed, and sat on the floor next to her. “It’s okay. I’ve wanted to shake him at least five times today. He’s a stubborn old bastard.”
Abby lifted her head and laughed. “I don’t know what’s gotten into me. Tired, I guess.”
“Your girl, Veena, stopped by today. Dropped off something bright and shiny. Maybe it’ll cheer you up.”
It must have been the sari that Abby would be wearing for the wedding. The event was still months away, but Veena wasn’t wasting any time in her preparations. “Yes. Maybe it will.”
She let Jerome help her up and glanced at Dad before walking out of the room. Dad wore the smug expression he always had when he had one over on her. Even in sleep, he managed the look.
“Was anyone else here,” Abby asked Jerome as they walked out of the room. “Besides Veena?”
“Why do you ask?”
It didn’t go unnoticed that Jerome didn’t answer Abby’s question.
“When I was in Dad’s office, I saw that there were two glasses. One was still full.”
“I see,” Jerome said. “I hope you won’t be telling the hiring company that I was sharing drinks with your father. After all, I didn’t have one sip.”
“Oh no, Jerome. I wouldn’t mention a thing to them. You are Dad’s best friend. We certainly wouldn’t want anything to taint that friendship,” Abby said. She felt her face flush in embarrassment. Of course it had been Jerome. She was silly to have thought that Sean had been in Dad’s office.
After oohing and aahing over the fabric of the sari with Jerome, and sending him home with a thank you, she couldn’t help but step back into the office to look at the untouched scotch glass. If Sean had been there, he would have sat on the chair on the right. She smoothed her hand over the soft leather of the chair, imagining his presence. If she pretended hard enough, she could almost feel him there.
Abby sank into the warm leather and curled up into a ball, allowing the tragedy and triumphs of the day to envelope her in emotion. She fell asleep on the chair to thoughts of Sean’s body next to hers. Holding her, surrounding her, loving her.
CHAPTER EIGHTY-TWO
ABBY’S next rotation working in internal medicine was much more forgiving, but highly monotonous. She found herself watching the clock as she assisted in diagnosing common colds, complications from diabetes, and urinary tract infections. The days were moving slowly, and she’d made a definite decision to focus on trauma surgery or ER rather than the tedious practice in which she was currently immersed.
By week three, Abby was pretty sure that she would die of boredom if she didn’t die first from the ridiculous amount of clicking she had to on the computer for each patient they saw. Her dreams at night of Sean had been replaced by regurgitated nightmares of a computer mouse in her hand answering boring questions about blood pressure, hereditary disease, and oxygen levels.
On several occasions, Abby had come home to see evidence of Dad’s time in his office. Her eyes would often flit to the table, where once she had found two distinctive rings, both the size of Dad’s scotch glasses. Another day, two coasters had been placed haphazardly in the rack on the bookshelf in his office.
Dad was receiving visitors more often. Sometimes political visits, sometimes social visits. Mom had also had a few friends over, so the evidence of two glasses in Dad’s office wasn’t a far-fetched mystery. But Abby couldn’t help but let it get to her.
She communicated with James McCarrin at least once a week, and always he told her the same thing. “I’m sure Sean’s fine, Abigail. He’s just not ready yet.”
One bright spot in Abby’s day to day schedule was that Dad had gained more strength in his ability to talk. He referred to her as “Beh,” which was his take on the name, Abigail, and Mom was “Sah”, most likely short for ‘Sweetheart’. He still used the communication iPad and would often complain about their reduced use of security, but both she and Mom had found their new freedom comforting and didn’t bother to follow Dad’s instructions. The media had even eased off enough to allow Abby to take her own car to and from work. The hospital staff had quickly gotten used to her celebrity and refused to let it faze them once they saw how capable she was. Of course, the popularity of the ER during her time in trauma surgery had raised a few eyebrows, but once they’d shoved her into the back rooms, away from the intrusive curiosity of the public, the crowds had quickly diminished.
Even with her newfound freedom, Abby still requested an escort when walking to her car in the parking lot, especially if she was working into the evening. But this wasn’t an uncommon practice for the women that worked within the rugged inner-city walls of Memorial Hospital, and the security guards were happy to oblige. As she finished an especially late turn at the office, she looked for the night guard that usually hung out around the entrance.
“Have you seen Gary?” she asked the desk clerk, who was diligently painting her fingernails a sparkly turquoise.
“Nope. I think that new girl at the snack bar got his attention.”
“Didn’t the snack bar close an hour ago?”
“That’s how she’s got his attention.”
Abby nodded with a laugh and made her way to the parking lot. Dusk had settled, and the crisp air of fall was introducing itself to the atmosphere. When she rounded the corner of the building, Abby immediately saw that her left front tire had sunk into a deflated pile. She dug for her rarely used cell phone and hoped it had power.
She began walking back towards the building when running feet alerted her to a presence on her left. Dropping the phone, Abby sent the purse flying in the direction of the person behind her, but it didn’t stop him. Her mind calculated facts as she rotated through Veena’s defense moves and compartmentalized a description for police officers. Male. About six-four. Black, curly hair. Pale skin. Blue eyes. She ducked out of his grasp, kicked, and maneuvered, but his strength was too much for her.
“Take the purse, I don’t need it,” she yelled, but her voice was only a gruff whisper.
“I don’t care about the fucking purse, Abigail Ellwood.” He grabbed her around the neck and pulled her back into the scrabbly bushes beside the building where it would be too dark for security to see her struggling. She knew that there was a camera somewhere near and tried desperately to find out where it was located. If she could lure him to somewhere that Gary or the front desk attendant would be able to see her on camera, maybe she’d get some help.
“I sent you letters. I called you. I came to your house. But you ignored me. Now they won’t let me into the hospital anymore. This is all your fault. Can’t you see that I love you? All I want to do is love you.”
It was the rambling of a mentally disturbed stalker. She’d seen it before, but security had always been there to take them down. This time she was alone. It was her own fault. She’d disregarded Dad’s warnings. She should have taken the time to look for Gary or one of the other security guards before leaving. She felt her airways begin to collapse and her eyes close in acceptance of her fate.
But then, the arm that held her neck in a chokehold dropped, and the distinct sound of fist against jaw forced Abby’
s eyes open in surprise. The attacker was on the ground and a man was hovering over him. Abby could barely grasp the situation as lights blinked around her eyes. The man looked familiar, yet not familiar. He had the thick, brown hair and the distinct dimple of someone she’d once loved, but it wasn’t him. This man had two hands.
CHAPTER EIGHTY-THREE
“ABIGAIL? Can you wake up for me?”
It was the voice of one of the night nurses. Gilda? Glenda?
But no, Abby didn’t want to wake up. She wanted to continue the dream.
The dream of Sean.
“Miss Ellwood. Squeeze my hand.” Doctor Bing’s voice as well.
How dare they interrupt her dream. Abby squeezed his hand, but that’s all she would do. Opening her eyes would welcome the nightmare of the real world back into her life. And she didn’t want that right now. She only wanted…
Sean.
She felt her eyelid being pulled open and watched a light force its way into her brain. It was over. The joy had ceased.
She opened her eyes and saw that she was in one of the lounge chairs in the front lobby of the hospital.
“Abigail? Can you talk?”
Abby turned towards the nurse’s voice and looked at her tag. The name was Gina. But Abby didn’t bother replying. The tightness in her throat was evidence enough that she wouldn’t be able to get one word out. Even breathing was difficult. She tried to concentrate.
Breathe in, breathe out, breathe in, breathe out.
“I’m going to have them take you to one of the rooms, Miss Ellwood. We need to do a scan on your…”
Abby waved him off and opened her mouth. The words that she emitted were more like the scratchy growl that her Dad tended to spout when arguing about having to eat pureed vegetables, but she managed to get it out. “I’m fine. I’ll be fine.”
She nudged up to her elbows on the lounge chair and tried to stop the world from spinning. To her left, she could see Gary embroiled in a heated conversation with the head of night security. Apparently, his tryst with the wily snack bar attendant had been discovered. She watched red and blue lights sparkle over the walls of the lobby by the front doors.
“Did they catch him?” she squeaked out.
“What’s left of him,” Doctor Bing muttered. “They’re admitting him now.”
Abby looked up in confusion. Admitting him? The man needed to be in the back of a squad car, not languishing at the hands of Memorial Hospital’s finest.
“He was beat to a pulp by that guy in the parking lot.”
Vague images of the Sean-like rescuer came to mind. She wondered if he was still at the hospital. She would have to thank him. “Is he still here?”
Gina smiled and winked. “I don’t think he’ll be leaving anytime soon.”
Abby would have rolled her eyes if the comment hadn’t been so ridiculous. If Gina was going to hit on people on hospital premises, she at least needed to do it on her own time.
Dr. Bing didn’t seem as enthusiastic about the man as Gina. “He’s making a statement. Probably won’t hang around after that. I can let him know that you’d like to speak with him if you’d like.”
Abby shook her head. “No. That’s okay.” She didn’t want to take up any more of the man’s time than she already had. Whether he’d been on his way home or heading to the hospital to see a loved one, it wasn’t her business, but she didn’t want to keep him from it.
Dr. Bing nodded his head and patted her on the shoulder. “Let me know if you need anything. I’ll see you tomorrow. Feel free to come in a little late if you want. But I need you here by ten for that pharma meeting.”
Abby gave him a thumbs up, wondering how she’d be able to get through another boring pharmaceutical meeting tomorrow. She began to get up, then remembered her cell phone and her flat tire. “I need to contact my mom,” she called to Gina, but her voice was raw and quiet, only the fern next to her able to decipher the whispering breaths. She watched Gina’s gaze as it drifted towards the front desk, towards a man standing casually talking to the clerk, his arms resting on the counter. The clerk tipped her head and aimed her freshly painted fingernails at Abby.
It was the man that had rescued her. The man that looked like Sean. The man that…
was Sean.
CHAPTER EIGHTY-FOUR
SHE felt her breath stop again.
In, out, in, out.
It can’t be Sean. He’s not here. He’s gone. He disappeared. He can’t be here.
In, out, in, out.
Her chest was following her directions, but her throat was not. It began to close up, restricting her breathing and providing the little dancing lights that she hated so much.
In, out, in, out.
Please don’t pass out. Please don’t pass out.
Abby closed her eyes. Maybe she wasn’t awake yet. Maybe she was still dreaming about Sean. Maybe she was actually in a hospital bed with Gina checking her vitals and Dr. Bing frustrated that Abby may not be able to attend the boring meeting the next day.
“Jamie. Open your eyes.”
The voice soaked into her veins like liquid into desert sands. She allowed it to fill her and surround her in rich sound.
The touch of a hand to her cheek was a healing balm to everything in her.
She wouldn’t open her eyes. She couldn’t. Because then she would see that it wasn’t really him. And her heart would break once again into thousands and thousands of pieces, littering the hospital lobby with what had once been her soul.
She heard the gasp of a low purr and realized it was her own voice as the fingertips of the hand that had touched her cheek was now smoothing her hair back around her ear. Just like Sean used to do.
“Please say you’re okay,” the voice said. “Don’t make me die again in thinking I’ve failed you for a third time.”
The slight crack in his voice opened her eyes. She looked into the gaze of the man that was leaning over her, his eyes peering into her own, wondering if she was still there, wondering if he had finally done what he’d always wanted, what he’d been trying to do from the very beginning. Protect her.
“Sean,” she said in a guttural whisper. “You saved me.”
She watched the dark, piercing eyes drop from view and bury themselves in the crook of her neck. “Oh, dear God. Thank you. Thank you for making her okay.”
The words of prayer echoed in her own mind as she said the same about him. Thank you, God. He was okay.
“Um, excuse me?” Gina’s voice startled Abby into reality. She almost expected the image of Sean to vanish, only to be replaced by a look-alike. Some stranger that had rescued her from a crazed stalker in the hospital parking lot.
But as Gina held out her notepad to him, Abby saw the mirage settle itself. He was real.
“I know this isn’t the time and the place,” Gina said, glancing over her shoulder; on the lookout for Dr. Bing’s disapproving glance. “But I was wondering if I could get your autograph. I mean… both of you. I already know Abigail, but if both of you could sign it… that would be really cool.”
Abby watched as Sean stood and smiled politely at Gina. She wanted to scream and yell at the nurse’s inappropriate timing but knew that she would only be able to get out a few whispered swear words.
Sean lifted his hands and took the pad of paper from Gina, then the pen. He scrawled out a signature, then handed them to Abby. She didn’t smile as she added A. Ellwood to the paper.
“Thanks, Abigail. I really appreciate it. And Sean Court… I can’t believe it. Thanks!” She rushed off to call a few friends and surely set off a frenzy of media attention that Abby wouldn’t be able to avoid.
Abby’s eyes looked up at the man in front of her. Thoughts came crashing into her head. No, this couldn’t be real. Abby looked at his hand. His right hand. It was there. He’d just signed his signature to a piece of paper. She’d seen it clear as day.
Sean Court.
He’d signed it with his right hand.
> She closed her eyes and focused on breathing again. It was just a dream. This was all just a dream.
“If you keep nodding off like this, I might have to call back nurse Gina to run a few tests. And goodness knows, I don’t want her cougar eyes all over me while she does.”
“I’m so scared that you’re not real,” Abby whispered. She wasn’t sure he could hear her, until his lips brushed her earlobe.
“Same.”
Abby opened her eyes and rested them on his dimple.
“Let’s get you home,” he said. “Your dad has worried himself into a tizzy.”
He reached under Abby’s arms and lifted her as if she only weighed twenty pounds. “My dad? You…”
Before she could finish, Sean ensured that she was able to stand securely on her own, then placed a quieting finger on her lips, and with a gentle move of his wrist, brushed her hair back. “No questions, okay. Let’s save that part for later. Right now, I just want to be in your presence, to soak you up.” He pressed his lips into her forehead and pulled her close. “Did you read the Valentine verse?”
Abby shook her head. Valentine verse? She remembered that he’d mentioned a Valentine concert in the letter he’d sent her, but she didn’t recall reference to a verse.
“Song of Songs. Second chapter, fourteenth verse,” he whispered into her ear as he ran one hand through her hair and held her tight against him with the other. “My dove in the clefts of the rock, in the hiding places on the mountainside, show me your face, let me hear your voice; for your voice is sweet, and your face is lovely.”
Abby breathed him in, her arms encircling his waist and her head pressed up against his chest. It was real. He was back.
“Miss Ellwood, Mr. Court,” a male voice interrupted them. Abby turned her head and saw a police officer standing awkwardly to the side. “We have a bit of a media problem and we’re going to have to escort you out the side door. I can have your vehicle pulled around if you’d like.”
Sean pressed his forehead against hers and sighed. “So, what do you think Jamie Poser? Should we sneak out like scared mice, or face them head on?”
Given New Worlds Page 28