The Rags-To-Riches Wife

by Metsy Hingle

  But she’d no sooner made the decision when the phone rang. Lily snatched it up. “Jack, where are you?”

  “I’m sorry, sweetheart. I got tied up at the office. The guy I’m meeting with is running late. I’d cancel, but he’s come from out of town just to meet with me.”

  “I understand,” she said and tried to keep the disappointment out of her voice. “I’ll just call and cancel the reservation.”

  “No. That’s not what I want—”

  “But you’re tied up. We’ll just go another time.”

  “Tonight’s our anniversary. I want to have dinner and go dancing with my wife tonight,” he told her and the tone of his voice sent longing through her.

  “I’d like that, too. But you said this poor man has traveled from out of town just to meet with you. You can hardly cancel on him.”

  “I don’t intend to. He should be here at any time now. If you wouldn’t mind driving yourself to the restaurant, I’ll meet you there. What do you say?”

  “I say it sounds like a plan.”

  “Great. I’ll see you there. Order us some mozzarella cheese sticks,” he said.

  “All right. And, Jack?”

  “Yes?”

  “I love you.”

  “You’d better. You’re married to me, lady,” he joked. “See you in a bit.”

  “Bye,” Lily said and hung up the phone. For a moment, she found herself disappointed. She’d deliberately told him she loved him when they weren’t in bed, hoping that with passion out of the mix, he might tell her. He hadn’t. Suddenly, she could feel the old doubt surfacing again.

  Stop it,Lily told herself, and snatching her car keys from the table in the foyer, she pulled open the front door.

  Thunder rumbled in the distance. A light rain had already begun to fall. Going back inside, she pulled open the coat closet to get her raincoat—then realized it was still at her apartment. Lily looked down at her beautiful, price-of-a-week’s-salary dress, and had visions of arriving at the restaurant looking like a drowned rat.

  Then she spied Jack’s raincoat. Removing it from the hanger, she slipped it on and grinned. It worked much better than her raincoat, she thought. It covered all of her. After belting it, she slid her hands into the pocket.

  Her fingers brushed a wad of paper. Pulling it out, she walked over to the table. She smoothed it out and her stomach dropped as she read:

  WHAT WOULD THE GOOD CITIZENS OF EASTWICK THINK IF THEY FOUND OUT THAT THEIR CANDIDATE FOR THE SENATE WAS ABOUT TO BECOME AN UNWED FATHER?

  UNLESS YOU WANT EVERYONE TO KNOW YOUR DIRTY LITTLE SECRET, YOU’LL PLACE $50,000 IN SMALL BILLS IN A SHOPPING BAG AND LEAVE IT IN EASTWICK PARK UNDER THE BENCH ACROSS FROM THE FOUNTAIN BY NOON TOMORROW. IF YOU FAIL TO DELIVER THE MONEY OR NOTIFY THE AUTHORITIES, YOU CAN FORGET THE SENATE NOMINATION.

  Lily dropped the note to the floor. Suddenly everything came rushing back. Delia’s comments at the club, Jack telling her he had opted out of the senate race to be with her. Jack never saying he loved her.

  Oh, God, she thought. Oh, God, she was going to be sick. She raced to the bathroom, threw up. When it was finally over, she took a wet towel, wiped her face. And when she looked at the face of the woman in the mirror, she recognized her, saw through all the pretenses, all the lies she’d told herself. She was still the same person she’d always been—Lily Miller. The baby her own mother hadn’t wanted, the girl no family ever wanted to adopt. The woman Jack Cartwright would never love.

  Crying, she raced up the stairs, fell, picked herself up and continued to the top. She went into the bedroom, threw some of her clothes in a suitcase, grabbed Bentley, and then she raced downstairs. Taking off Jack’s raincoat, she threw it to the floor and went out into the rain. She had to get away, go far away where she would never have to face Jack again.

  By the time she got into the car and onto the main road, the rain was coming down like a flood. So were her tears. She continued to speed down the road, not even bothering to slow down in the turn. All she could see was that note, Jack’s face, realize how wrong she had been.

  Between the driving rain and her non-stop tears, she could barely see through the windshield, Lily realized. Reaching over, she dug through her bag for a tissue to wipe the fog on the windshield inside the car.

  And when she looked up again, she saw the lights coming at her, heard the screech of tires, the sound of glass breaking, the crunch of metal. Lily grabbed her stomach. “My baby,” she cried out. Then everything went black.

  Ten

  Jack stood at the reception desk of Vincent’s, the Italian restaurant where Lily was supposed to meet him, and waited to be shown to his table. He was nearly half an hour late, but he hoped Lily would think the wait was worth it. He patted the pocket where he had a slip of paper with the name of a woman who claimed to have known Lily’s mother. It had taken weeks, but after providing a picture of Lily’s locket and what little information he had about Lily’s abandonment at the church, the detective he’d hired had finally been able to get a solid lead. Jack had wanted to do this for her because he hoped that if she had those answers to her past she might be able to let it go.

  It might be selfish of him, but he wanted all of Lily. She’d told him she loved him and he didn’t doubt she did. But there was that piece of her heart that she held back, held back, he was sure, because she was afraid to trust him. He understood it, didn’t blame her. She’d been let down too many times in the past.

  He didn’t intend to let her down. But he needed her to believe in him, to believe in them. And to do that, she would have to find those answers to her past that had plagued her all of her life.

  “Mr. Cartwright, it is good to see you again,” Antonio, the maître d’ told him. “We have your table ready for you. Would you like to be seated now or do you want to wait for Mrs. Cartwright?”

  Jack frowned. “Isn’t my wife here?”

  Antonio looked at the hostess. “Has Mrs. Cartwright arrived?”

  “No, sir.”

  “I am sorry, she is not here yet,” Antonio said. “Perhaps she got caught in traffic. You know how the rain slows things down.”

  “Could you check to see if she called and left a message? She was supposed to meet me here at eight,” Jack explained.

  “Of course, I’ll see if anyone took a call from her. One moment.”

  While Antonio went to check to see if Lily had called, Jack pulled out his cell phone. He hit number one, where he had programmed in Lily’s cell number. On the fourth ring, she answered, “Hello. This is Lily—”

  “Lily,” Jack began only to realize he’d reached her voice mail. “Lily, I’m at Vincent’s. Where are you? Call me.” After ending the call, he tried the house, telling himself that maybe she’d got tied up at home. But once again, he got the answering machine.

  “I’m sorry, Mr. Cartwright. But none of the staff have heard from Mrs. Cartwright. Would you like to have a drink in the bar while you wait for her?”

  “Thanks, Antonio. But I’ll just wait here. I’m sure she’ll be along any minute now.”

  But twenty minutes and a string of phone messages later, Lily still hadn’t arrived. And Jack began to worry. It wasn’t like Lily to be late and it certainly wasn’t like her not to respond to phone calls. Because of her pregnancy, she was especially diligent about never being incommunicado. Something was wrong.

  After tipping Antonio and apologizing for canceling the dinner reservation, Jack left the restaurant and started for home. During the drive, he continued to try Lily’s cell number and even tried her office. Growing more worried by the mile, he tried Abby Talbot. He knew that Lily had become close to the other woman.

  “Hello,” she answered on the second ring.

  “Abby, it’s Jack Cartwright.”

  “Jack,” she said and judging by the disappointment in her voice, she had been expecting someone else’s call. “What can I do for you?”

  “I’m sorry to bother you this late. But I was won
dering if Lily was with you.”

  “Lily?” she repeated. “No. I haven’t seen her since earlier today. I went shopping with her. She said you and she had a special evening planned and she wanted a new dress for the occasion. I thought she was with you.”

  “No, she isn’t,” he said and turned onto the interstate and headed toward home. “I was running late and she was supposed to meet me at the restaurant. But she never showed.”

  “I guess you tried her cell.”

  “Yes. I keep getting her voice mail. And she’s not answering at home or her office.”

  “You know how pregnant women are, they fall asleep at the drop of a hat. She might just be taking a nap and turned off the phone,” Abby offered.

  Which they both knew wasn’t the case, Jack thought, but appreciated that the other woman was trying to reassure him. “I’m on my way home now. Would you mind calling the rest of the Debs Club and see if any of them have heard from her?”

  “Sure. I’ll do it right away.”

  “Thanks.”

  “No problem. And, Jack, try not to worry. Lily’s one of the strongest and bravest women I know. I’m sure wherever she is, she’s fine. Nothing short of wild horses would have kept her away from meeting you for that dinner tonight.”

  “I’m sure you’re right,” Jack said. But as he hung up the phone he was worried that something a lot more serious than wild horses had stopped her from meeting him.

  A call to his parents and both his sisters rendered the same results. No one had seen or heard from Lily. And by the time he exited the interstate, he had a sick feeling in his gut. All sorts of images were racing through his head. What if Lily had fallen? What if she had slipped in the bathtub? Suppose she had gone into labor early? He’d read about it, knew that it was more common than people realized. She was nearly six months pregnant. He never should have left her alone.

  Realizing he was sending himself into a panic, Jack forced himself to calm down. He tried to recall their last conversation and whether there had been anything out of the ordinary. He hadn’t detected anything wrong. On the contrary, she had sounded happy. And she had told him that she loved him. Hardly the actions of a woman who was upset with him. So where was she?

  Jack steered his Mercedes into the sharp turn, then hit the gas for the long stretch of road that led to his home. When he pulled up to the house, the first thing he noticed was that her car was gone. Which meant Lily wasn’t there. Maybe she’d left him a note, Jack thought, even though he knew the probabilities were slim. Why would she leave him a note instead of calling?

  Still when he opened the door and entered the foyer, he was struck by the silence. “Lily?” he called out. But there was no answer. Tossing his keys on the table near the door, he headed into the house. He turned the corner into the living room and saw his raincoat lying on the floor. Walking over, he picked up the coat and as he did so, he saw the slip of paper on the ground.

  Jack froze. Reaching down, he picked up the buff-colored note—the blackmail note that he had shoved into his coat pocket and forgotten about because he had dismissed it. He read the ugly words again and tried to imagine what Lily had thought when she’d read them.

  She would have thought that he had lied to her, that he had opted out of the senate race because he was ashamed of her.

  “Son of a—” Jack crushed the note in his fist. He had to find Lily. He had to explain. He was racing toward the door when his cell phone rang. He didn’t even bother to look at the caller ID. He simply said, “Lily?”

  “No, Jack. It’s Scott.”

  “Listen, Scott. I don’t have time right now. Lily’s missing and I’m on my way to look for her,” he explained and jumped behind the wheel of the car.

  “Jack, it’s Lily I’m calling about.”

  Something in his old friend’s voice made Jack’s heart stop. Panic ripped through his blood. “What the hell is it, Scott? Where’s my wife?”

  “She’s at Eastwick Memorial Hospital. There was an accident.”

  “Oh, God.” Jack could feel a thundering in his head. Or was it his soul? He wasn’t sure. All he knew was that he couldn’t imagine a life without Lily. “How bad is she?”

  “She’s in a coma. You need to get here as soon as you can.”

  Jack wasn’t sure how many speeding violations or driving infractions he committed. All he knew was that he made it to the hospital in record time and ignored the security guard telling him he couldn’t leave his car parked at the entrance as he raced to the front desk. “Lily Cartwright? Which room is she in?”

  “She’s in room 302. But I’m afraid visiting hours are over, sir—”

  Jack ran to the elevator bank, punched the button. Then went to the stairwell. He raced up the three flights and when he barreled through the stairwell exit door, he nearly mowed down a nurse’s aide. “Sorry,” he said as he continued running to the nurses’ station. “Room 302. Lily Cartwright? Which way is it?”

  “It’s down the end of that hall and to the right,” the uniformed nurse told him. “But you’ll need—”

  Jack didn’t hear the rest. He zipped down the hall, hung a right and started toward the room at the far end.

  “Jack! Jack,” Scott called after him as he sped past the family waiting room.

  Jack stopped long enough to say, “I’ve got to see her, Scott. I’ve got to explain.”

  “Hang on, buddy. You’ll have plenty of time to explain when she wakes up.”

  “I need to see her.”

  “Come on, I’ll go with you,” Scott said and walked with him to Lily’s room.

  When he opened the door and saw Lily, Jack could feel tears stinging his eyes. He walked over to the bed, held her hand. It was cold. She was deathly pale. There was a bruise on her forehead, scratches on her face and arms, a bandage above her left eyebrow. There were monitors attached to her and an IV in her arm. In that moment, Jack would have given everything he owned, his very life, just to see her open those ghost-blue eyes and look at him.

  Scott clamped a hand on his shoulder. “You all right?”

  Jack nodded. “What happened?”

  “I’m not sure. From what I was able to get from the driver of the truck that hit her, the rain was coming down so hard you could hardly see the hand in front of your face and she came tearing around a curve in the road, veered out of her lane and came straight at the truck.”

  It was his fault. It was his fault. She’d found the blackmail note and run out. “Where’s the doctor? What does he say? What about the baby? Did she…is the baby okay?”

  “The doctor’s running some tests. He should be back in a few minutes. You need to stay calm, buddy. Lily’s going to need you when she comes out of this.”

  Scott was right. Jack knew he was. “Why did they contact you?” he asked, only now realizing that it was Scott that was here with Lily when it should have been him.

  “It was one of Falcon Trucking’s semis that hit her,” he explained. “When I was notified one of my drivers was hurt, I came down. That’s when I found out the other victim was Lily. So I called you.”

  Jack nodded. “How bad was the accident?”

  “Bad enough. It’s a miracle Lily wasn’t killed. My driver has a broken arm and a broken collarbone.”

  It was a miracle she wasn’t dead. And if she had died, it would be because of him, Jack chided himself.

  “Come on. Let’s go get a cup of coffee while we wait for the doctor.”

  Four cups of coffee later, the doctor came into the waiting room. “Mr. Cartwright?”

  Jack stood. “I’m Jack Cartwright.”

  “I’m Dr. Freeman.” Tall, broad-shouldered with a head of salt-and-pepper hair, the doctor had a solid handshake. “Why don’t we step outside so we can talk.”

  Jack followed the doctor and Scott came with him. When they reached a separate waiting area, Jack asked, “Is my wife going to be okay?”

  “Her vitals are good. Nothing’s broken. She has a
concussion and a nasty cut over her left eyebrow and some bruises and scrapes. But none of those are life-threatening. Our biggest concern is the coma. The longer she remains comatose, the more concerned we have to be.”

  “What about the baby?” Jack asked.

  “The baby looks fine. We’ve hooked up a fetal monitor to watch the baby and I’ve called your wife’s obstetrician, Dr. Robinson.”

  “Is there anything we can do in the meantime?” Jack asked.

  “You might try talking to her. Sometimes a patient will respond to the voice of a loved one. And it never hurts to pray.”