“I…uh…haven’t had time for those things in years.”
“Well, you will now. So rework this schedule.” He smiled winningly and lightly tapped his finger on her chart. Turning his smile on Liddy Bea, he said, “Come on, kitten. If we’re going to visit the U and be back in time for your noon exchange, we’d better rinse our plates and put them in the dishwasher.”
“I don’t make Liddy Bea clear her dishes, Connor. You go on. I’ll clean up.”
Connor, who’d risen from his chair, gazed obliquely at the child seated between them. “As long as she’s feeling okay, isn’t it time she start learning to help around the house?”
Mallory returned a scathing look.
“I wanna help.” Liddy Bea jumped from her chair and carefully picked up her plate.
“She’s only six,” Mallory hissed.
“You want some man to have to teach her how to cook and sort laundry after she’s grown, like I had to do with you?”
Liddy Bea stopped on her way to the sink and turned. “You taught Mommy to cook? Where was my daddy?”
Mallory kicked Connor’s shin.
“Ow.” He bent and rubbed the spot. “Sorry, two weeks,” he mumbled. “I didn’t know she had a mind like a steel trap,” he mouthed.
“Now you do.” Mallory stacked her own plate and silverware. “Liddy Bea. One of these days I’ll go to Grandpapa’s and dig out a box of old pictures I have stored in his attic. When Connor and I were young, we belonged to the same group of volunteers, who helped people affected by hurricanes. We worked out of tents. Back then, there were a lot of things I wasn’t good at. Grandpapa and Grandmother Beatrice employed a cook, a housekeeper and a gardener, in addition to Davis, who drove Uncle Mark and me to school and appointments. I was pretty helpless.”
“Oh. Was my daddy there? Do you have pictures of him, too?”
“Lydia Beatrice. Where has all this preoccupation with your father come from?”
The child went sullen. “Jordanna and Alexis have pictures of their daddies. Alexis said if I don’t have a daddy, maybe I was hatched.”
Connor guffawed. “Alexis was teasing you, kitten. Some kids are worse than others about that. By the time you start first grade, maybe your mom will have found a picture of your dad in those old photos she has stored in the attic.”
A sunny smile replaced Liddy’s pout. “Okay. Let’s go, Connor. Can I carry the box of doughnuts?”
“You may.” He checked his watch. “We’ll be back by twelve, Mallory. Use the time we’re gone for yourself. Unwind,” he said, stepping behind her to massage her tight shoulder muscles.
In short order, she all but purred. “Mmm, I’ve missed the back rubs you used to give.”
“Yeah? Me, too. Especially the ones in the tub,” he growled very near her ear.
Her eyes popped wide open. “Enough,” she said, briskly ducking out from under his clever fingers. “Have a good time,” she rushed on, dropping a quick kiss on her daughter’s upturned face. “Remember, Connor, she has to be buckled into the back seat.”
“I do read,” he said dryly. “That was number three on your rule list.”
MIDWAY THROUGH THE SECOND week, Connor thought things were going well in spite of Mallory’s growing list of rules. Every time something came up that threw them in close contact with each other, she adjusted the schedule or added a new rule.
He bided his time, figuring everything would change by the end of the week, when she promised to reveal his identity to Liddy Bea.
Meanwhile, he kept busy. His monitors had been delivered, set up and seemed to be functioning normally. His personal things had arrived. Mallory had actually dedicated part of her weekend to helping him find storage space for almost everything.
She’d run across a framed photo of herself in her college cap and gown in a box of items that had come out of his home desk. It did Connor’s heart good to see how disconcerted she was, although she insisted he couldn’t set the picture on his nightstand. “Two weeks is nearly up,” he warned, reminding her of her promise to tell Liddy Bea who he was the following weekend.
Bradford Forrest dropped by unexpectedly on Wednesday, before Mallory got home and before Connor left to work on his project.
“I’ve gotta admit, my boy. I had plenty of doubts about this arrangement of yours and Mallory’s. Can’t say I’ve ever seen Liddy Bea happier. She’s slimming down and has some color back in her cheeks.”
Connor poured the senator a brandy, even though it wasn’t yet five o’clock. He opened a bottled water for himself. “It’s amazing what cutting down on steroids and monitoring food intake will do for a kidney patient. The first few days, holding her to her diet was murder. Nothing against Marta, but I think she gave in to Liddy Bea’s cajoling.”
“As did I. Say, off that subject and onto another near your heart. How are the ocean probes operating? I ran into Don Jarvis yesterday at Rotary. He said the young fellow you’ve taken on as an aide mentioned underwater volcanic activity.”
“That’s right. There’ve been shake-ups off the Venezuela coast this month.”
“Jarvis seems to think your equipment’s faulty. He said his South American contacts don’t indicate any storm warnings.”
“They wouldn’t. That’s the beauty of my system. My deep-water probes signal oceanic disruption long before overhead satellites detect anything building.”
“Huh. Jarvis is the local weather guru you’ve gotta convince if your probes turn up any warnings. With his attitude, I don’t envy you. Well, thanks for the update and the brandy. I’ve got late committee meetings tonight, tomorrow and probably into the weekend if those dunderheads can’t decide on appropriations to widen our main evacuation routes. We go through this exercise in futility every year. I’m afraid they’ll see the error in their tightfisted ways too late. Liddy Bea? Come kiss Grandpapa goodbye.”
She skipped out of her room, her arms full of Barbie clothes. “Bye, Grandpapa. We’ll see you at church on Sunday.”
Connor followed Brad to the door. “I don’t want to cry wolf, Senator. But I’m concerned by the steady increase of deep-wave activity in the same location. Florida could face a hurricane of the magnitude of Andrew. Your committee may want to set money aside for disaster relief if they aren’t willing to facilitate evacuation.”
“You wouldn’t be pulling my leg, would you, son?”
“Senator, I never joke about hurricanes. I don’t like the data I’ve seen coming in. And this started before I left Miami. Another meteorologist and I physically checked the monitor I have in the straits. It’s operating fine.”
“Huh.” Bradford tugged at his lower lip. “I’ll pass that on.”
THE FRIDAY MORNING AFTER Bradford’s visit, Liddy woke up cross. Nothing Connor did could please her. She refused to eat. “My tummy hurts, Connor.”
He didn’t see anything amiss when they did her morning and noon exchanges. By two, however, she was so cranky, he left a message on Mallory’s voice mail, asking her to phone home.
Three o’clock came, and he hadn’t heard a word. Liddy Bea’s crankiness turned to tears. Unable to calm her, Connor called the hospital and asked for Mallory’s secretary.
“Ms. Forrest is out of the office. She’s speaking to the women’s garden club about doing a children’s fair with the hospital. If it’s an emergency, I can page her.”
Connor cocked an ear. Liddy Bea had quieted down. He didn’t want Mallory to think he couldn’t handle a child who’d merely gotten up on the wrong side of the bed. “Don’t interrupt her,” he said. “When she checks in, have her phone home, please.”
He gave Liddy Bea a Popsicle and later rocked her while they read her favorite story. She fell asleep halfway through, and he transferred her to her bed. He noticed the juice had stained her face and fingers and also her shirt. But he wasn’t about to wake her to wash up.
Connor was somewhat concerned when she hadn’t awakened by four. It was a rare day that she slowed dow
n to under ninety miles an hour. Tiptoeing to her bed, he placed a hand on her cheek. She felt warm. On the other hand, she lay in the middle of enough stuffed animals to make anyone sweat. He decided to let her sleep. Maybe she had a touch of the flu. Or maybe this was typical of kids.
Liddy woke up shortly before five, in a better frame of mind. Connor bathed her face and hands with cool water and found her a clean shirt.
“Are you hungry now? You skipped breakfast and lunch.”
She shook her head. “I want more juice. When’s Mommy coming home? My tummy still hurts.”
“It does?” Connor checked his watch. “Mom’s late. I figure she’ll be here any minute. Do you know where the thermometer is? I should take your temperature.”
Again the little girl shook her head.
Connor was rummaging in the medicine cabinet when the doorbell chimed.
Carrying Liddy Bea, he went to the door, peeped out and saw Davis. “Hi,” Connor said, after shifting Liddy Bea so he could unchain the door. “To what do we owe this unexpected visit? The senator’s not here. Haven’t seen him since Wednesday.”
“I know. Miss Mallory phoned. She’s running late. Rather than detain you, she asked Marta to watch Liddy Bea for a couple of hours.”
Connor glanced at the flushed child. “I tried to phone Mallory earlier and we didn’t connect. Liddy Bea’s complained of a stomachache off and on all day. In fact, I was just hunting for a thermometer.”
“Oh? Not feeling well, little lady?” Responding to her droopy shake of the head, Davis looked at Connor. “Bundle her up and I’ll scoot right home. Marta has four grandchildren she watches when they’re sick. I’m sure she has a thermometer.”
“All right, if you think that’s what Mallory would want.”
“Does Grandpapa have my fav’rite juice in the limo?” Liddy asked, showing a spark of interest.
“You bet.” Davis grinned. “After juice she’ll probably feel right as rain.”
ALL EVENING CONNOR KEPT expecting a call from Mallory. He tried phoning home a few times, but always got her voice mail. Not wanting to appear the nervous dad, he refrained from calling Forrest House. Besides, the reports spitting out of his computer had him and his aide, Jim Kirkpatrick, hopping. A circle of volcanic activity deep in the ocean off Venezuela had increased. Even forecasters had begun to report a tropical depression moving toward the West Indies. Connor and Jim elected to continue monitoring the storm.
Things didn’t grow calm until after one in the morning. He couldn’t call now and scare Mallory out of ten years’ growth. He’d just leave his office in time for his turn in the shower.
By 5:00 a.m., the tremors had totally subsided. Connor stretched. “Go on home, Jim. Thanks for staying. This is the type of early warning we’re running this experiment for. I’ve gotta go take care of Liddy Bea, but she and I will drop back midafternoon to check the readings. Can you pop in later this morning? Call if you need me.”
“Sure. No problem. I’ve got nothing scheduled all day.”
Connor barely kept his eyes open long enough to drive home. As he parked his vehicle, the fact that Mallory’s car wasn’t in her normal spot succeeded in jarring him awake. He tore upstairs. The apartment was dark and quiet. Connor didn’t make a habit of bursting into Mallory’s bedroom, but that was exactly what he did when he found Liddy Bea’s bed empty.
Mallory’s hadn’t been disturbed, either. There was no note on the kitchen bulletin board and no phone message for him.
Before daylight or not, he punched in the number to Forrest House with a hand that shook.
Marta answered in a sleepy voice.
“This is Connor. I’m sorry to bother you at this hour, but I just got home from work. Well, to the apartment, I mean. Mallory and Liddy Bea aren’t here. Did Mallory decide to sleep over at Forrest House?”
He listened to Marta’s groggy voice.
“What? The hospital? Liddy Bea’s cannula is infected? How? When? Why didn’t Mallory notify me?”
Marta couldn’t answer his questions.
Bypassing his much-needed shower and oblivious to how badly he needed a shave, Connor raced out of the apartment like a wild man. He bolted down the stairs and just managed to stay under the speed limit en route to Forrest Memorial. Fear had his heart knocking against his ribs.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
CONNOR REACHED THE HOSPITAL’S front doors, running. He didn’t slow as he galloped up the stairs to the pediatric ward. A nurse grabbed his arm as he started past the central station. “May I help you?” she asked pleasantly. However, her hand tightened perceptibly as she spoke.
“I’m looking for Mallory Forrest. I just learned Liddy Bea’s been admitted again.”
“Are you a relative? It’s too early for visiting. The doctors are making their rounds now.”
His breath heaved in and out. Connor was tempted to say he didn’t give a damn about their rules and yes, he was related. Her father. Instead, he forced a calm he didn’t feel. “Would you please tell Ms. Forrest that Connor O’Rourke is here?”
The nurse studied his unkempt appearance before slowly releasing him. “Wait right here. I’ll give her the message.”
Connor watched the woman hurry to a room beyond the one where Liddy had been before. He used the time she was away to tuck his shirt into his pants and to drag a hand though his hair in a futile attempt to look more presentable.
It seemed like forever but was really only moments before she came out again, followed by Mallory.
Connor rushed forward, unprepared for the angry words Mallory threw at him. “What were you thinking? Letting Liddy Bea go sick all day? You should have phoned me.”
“I did! I asked your secretary to have you call. What is it? What’s wrong with her? I would’ve called last evening but I had a crisis at the lab. Jim and I worked all night. When I got home, you weren’t there, and no messages anywhere. You scared me to death.”
“I spoke with Mandy before she left the office. She didn’t tell me you called. I’m sorry I yelled at you. But I thought I’d explained how fast infections can flare up. Oh, Connor, Dr. Dahl had to remove Liddy’s shunt and put her back on hemodialysis.” Close to tears, Mallory blinked rapidly.
“Aren’t there antibiotics to combat infection?”
“She’s had so many, her system’s resistant to the better antibiotics. Her albumin has soared. He’s afraid there was a leak in the shunt. Worse than any of this, though—he got a call last night from the national kidney locators. A really close match came in. And…and…we can’t risk a transplant.” This time Mallory did dissolve into tears.
Connor pulled her tight against his chest. “God, I’m sorry, Mallory.” He found himself blinking, too. “Liddy complained of a stomachache off and on. You’d told me to look for redness or swelling around her cannula. I didn’t see anything wrong at her exchange.”
“But a fever, Connor! Marta said Liddy’s temperature was a hundred and four.”
“I couldn’t find a thermometer. And she didn’t feel warm to me till late afternoon—right before Davis showed up. Uh…can we go somewhere more private to talk?” Connor realized they were drawing the attention of nurses and staff.
Wiping her eyes, Mallory took his hand and led him to an empty lounge.
As they sat, Connor kept one arm looped around her shoulders. Unresisting, she accepted his support.
“About this kidney match. Will the organ keep until Dahl gets her infection under control?”
Tiredly, Mallory shook her head. “Fredric says they’re researching a method to extend the life of donor organs. It’s still experimental. So…no. This chance is lost.” Her voice broke. She patted her pockets looking for a tissue.
Connor spotted a box of them on one of the chairs. He yanked out several and gave them to her, feeling to blame for her tears. “I thought she might have a touch of the flu. I swear, if I’d had any idea—any idea at all— I’d have been pounding at Dahl’s door.”
/> Mallory gripped his hand. “I noticed she was whiny when I went in to wake her yesterday morning. I let her sleep in, anyway. My mind was on my meeting with the garden club. Speaking of which, what was your crisis at work?”
“False alarm,” he said. “Something that bears keeping an eye on, though. How does hemodialysis differ from what we’ve been doing?”
“Instead of half an hour three times a day, it takes four hours three times a week, here at the hospital. Hemo is a complete transfer of blood through a machine called a dialyzer. It filters out waste. The clean blood is returned to the body. She now has a fistula in her arm. Did you notice the scars from previous veinal cut downs? She’s had so many.”
“I just figured all kids have scars from playground mishaps. Can I see her? How’s she holding up?”
“She’s a trouper. I’m the one who falls apart.”
Connor stroked the side of his forefinger along her jaw and suddenly, without warning, dropped a kiss on her trembling lips. “You’re entitled, Mal. I wish you’d rousted me. The reason I’m hanging around is so you don’t have to shoulder these burdens alone anymore.”
She touched her lips where he’d kissed her, her eyes remaining skeptical. “Right. You’re as tied up with your work as Dad is with his. He had an early meeting to chair and couldn’t be here, either.”
Connor picked up both of her hands and held them loosely. “Why can’t you accept that I’m in Liddy Bea’s life to stay? And yours, too,” he said gruffly.
Mallory tugged her hands away. “I wish I could believe you, Connor. Yesterday Alec pointed out that if you had to choose between Liddy Bea or chasing a hurricane, the storm would take precedence.”
The Seven Year Secret Page 21