And then she’d really have nothing.
Determinedly putting that depressing thought out of her mind, she sorted through the mail, delaying the moment when she would have to check her telephone messages. There were the usual assortment of bills and junk mail and the promised contract from the Blythe Gallery. Continuing to postpone the inevitable, Rachel looked through the contract, then carried it into her bedroom. She wanted to read it carefully before she signed it. Finally she could delay no longer.
She pressed the message button on her recorder.
The first couple of calls were hang-ups or sales types. The third call was from Phillip Blythe’s assistant, Vivian, saying she’d put Rachel’s contract in the mail. “If you have any questions, just give me a call,” she concluded brightly.
On the fourth call, Roxanne’s voice said, “Rach? Are you there? It’s me, Roxanne. Pick up if you’re there. Darn. I was hoping you’d be home. Um, it’s Wednesday morning, about ten o’clock. Call me as soon as you get back, okay?” She went on to give Rachel the number where she could be reached, then said, “Oh, God, Rach, I’m dying here. I have to know what happened. How Daddy took things. Is he really furious with me? I’m afraid to call him until I talk to you.”
Daddy, Rachel thought. Not David. Daddy.
“I, um, wanted to know what David said, too,” Roxanne’s voice continued. “I hope he’s okay. I—I feel bad that I stuck you with telling him. Okay, well, I’m gonna hang up now. Talk to you later. Love you. Bye.”
The phone beeped, then another message began to play. This, too, was from Roxanne. “Rach? Rach, where the devil are you? I’ve been hanging around here at Carlos’s parents’ house all day waiting for you to call me back. Listen, Carlos and I are getting married tomorrow morning, and then we’re going to Mexico City for a short honeymoon. I’ll call you when we get there, okay? I have to talk to you.”
The next two messages were in the same vein, with Roxanne sounding more and more frustrated by her inability to raise Rachel.
The last message on the tape had been recorded the day before. “Rachel, I’m really getting worried here,” Roxanne said. “Please, please call me. I’m beginning to think you don’t want to talk to me. I guess if I don’t hear from you by tomorrow night I’d better just bite the bullet and call Daddy anyway.”
Rachel’s heart lurched painfully. Dear heaven! If Roxanne called their father before Rachel had had a chance to talk to David, it would be horrible. Unthinkable. Her fingers shook as she punched in the number Roxanne had left. Please, please be there.
After five rings, a female answered, saying, “Hola, hola.”
Thank goodness Rachel had had four years of Spanish. Even so, she was rusty and had to grope for the right words. “Hola. iMe permite hablar con Roxanne Terraza?”
“I am sorry,” the woman said, switching to perfect English. “Roxanne has gone shopping.”
“Oh,” said Rachel. She bit her lip. What should she do?
“Who is calling, please?”
“I, um, I’m her sister. Could I leave a message for her, please?”
“Yes, of course. What is the message?”
“Tell her that Rachel called and that I’ll call her back later. Tell her that under no circumstances is she to call Daddy or David. That’s very important. She must not talk to Daddy or David. Not until she talks to me.”
The woman repeated the message. “I will see that your sister receives this message as soon as she returns,” she said kindly.
“Thank you,” Rachel said.
“You are very welcome.”
After they’d hung up, Rachel stood there, telling herself to calm down. Catastrophe had been averted. But oh, God, what if she hadn’t been in time? What if Roxanne had called their father? Wouldn’t that have been awful?
It didn’t happen. You’re safe.
But not for long, she thought miserably. Not for long.
“Hey, David, good to see you back!”
“We missed you, old man.”
“Hey, man. You’re lookin’ good. Bein’ married must agree with you, huh?”
David smiled and returned all the greetings before joining the department managers for a special meeting where they would discuss the final phase of the merger of Hanson Drilling and Carlton Oil—the physical move of Hanson to the Carlton Oil building, which was scheduled to begin the following day.
David had just settled into his seat at the head of the conference table when Carole Attley, his secretary, opened the door and poked her head inside. She looked at David. “I’m sorry, but I have to talk to you. It’s important.”
Her tone gave David a sense of foreboding.
“Virginia called. It’s your grandmother,” she said once he was outside the conference room. “She’s had a heart attack.” Carole put her hand on his shoulder in a gesture of comfort.
“What? When? Where is she?” He could hardly grasp what she’d said.
“She just suddenly collapsed. Virginia immediately called 911. They’ve taken her to St. Matthew’s.”
“How…” He swallowed, told himself to calm down. “How is she?”
Carole shook her head. “Virginia didn’t know anything, except that she’s alive.”
David’s heart pounded. His grandmother had always seemed so strong. So invincible. Somehow, even though he’d known better, he’d always expected her to be around. But she would be eighty on her next birthday. If she made it through this, he amended. “I’m going down there,” he said. He inclined his head toward the conference room. “Tell the guys, okay? And listen, Carole, call Roxanne and tell her what’s happened. Ask her if she can meet me at the hospital.”
“Don’t worry.” Carole’s eyes were sympathetic. “I’ll take care of everything.”
Rachel could hear the phone ringing as she unlocked the back door. Dumping the grocery bags on the kitchen table, she raced toward the cordless phone sitting on the counter. “Hello?” she said breathlessly.
“Roxanne?”
She almost said no, this is Rachel, but she caught herself in time. “Y-yes?”
“Roxanne, this is Carole.”
“Carole?”
“David’s secretary.”
“Oh, Carole! I’m sorry. I must be in a fog or something. How are you?”
“I’m fine. I’m calling because David asked me to.” Rachel listened with growing horror as Carole related what had happened.
“Oh, poor David,” she said when Carole had finished. “Yes, of course, I’ll go to the hospital immediately. And Carole, thanks for calling.”
It took Rachel only ten minutes to get to St. Matthew’s, which was part of the medical center complex just south of West U, where David’s house was located. Parking took another five minutes. Five minutes after that found her walking out of the elevator and into the wing housing coronary care.
She saw David immediately. He and Virginia Olesky, his grandmother’s longtime companion and housekeeper, were sitting together on a leather couch in the CCU waiting area. He came rushing forward to meet her.
“Oh, David, how is she?” Rachel cried, hurting for him when she saw the lines of strain.
He put his arms around her and held her close. “We don’t know anything yet. God, I’m glad you’re here.”
She put her arms around him and closed her eyes, savoring the closeness for a few moments before he released her.
“Do you know what happened?” she asked as, arm around her, he led her over to the seating area. She smiled at the housekeeper. “Hi, Virginia.”
“Hello, Roxanne,”
As always, being called Roxanne gave Rachel a jolt.
“There’s not much to know,” David said. “She’d just finished her lunch, and she got up, walked a couple of steps and clutched her chest. Virginia was there.”
Rachel looked at Virginia, whose normally cheerful countenance was creased with worry lines.
“Thank God,” Virginia said. “I just keep thinking, what if
I’d gone to the post office or the supermarket or something, and she’d collapsed like that, and no one had been home?”
“Well, it didn’t happen, so don’t think like that,” Rachel said. “You were there.”
“Yes,” David said. “And you didn’t panic. That’s what’s important.” He gave Virginia a reassuring smile. Turning back to Rachel, he said, “We’re waiting on Dr. Burnside now.”
Rachel nodded. Elliott Burnside was the most renowned heart specialist in the city. If he was overseeing her treatment, Georgina Hanson was in good hands.
“Sit down, sweetheart,” David said. “Do you want something to drink? Coffee or a Coke?”
“No, not now.” Rachel sat next to Virginia and took the older woman’s hand, giving it a comforting squeeze. If Georgina Hanson didn’t make it, Virginia would suffer as much as David, for it was obvious to all that she cared deeply for her employer.
Virginia gave Rachel a grateful smile.
After that, the three of them did not talk much. David spent most of his time standing in front of the window at the end of the corridor, obviously too worried to sit. Rachel leafed desultorily through a dogeared copy of Newsweek, and Virginia knitted. “I always carry my knitting in my purse,” she explained. “It helps pass the time.”
Rachel smiled. Virginia’s “purse” was actually a huge canvas tote bag, and she’d never seen the older woman without it. “I don’t suppose you’ve got any aspirin in that bag, do you?”
“As a matter of fact,” Virginia said, “I do.” She fished inside and produced a bottle.
“Thanks,” Rachel said gratefully.
For the next hour, every time the double doors leading into the inner sanctum of the coronary care unit opened, all three of them would look up hopefully. But Dr. Burnside didn’t emerge.
“What’s going on in there?” David said after a while, giving the closed doors a thunderous look. “God, you’d think they’d come out and tell you something.”
“They will,” Rachel said soothingly, thinking how typically male David’s anger was. Women agonized and made bargains with God. Men got angry and railed.
Suddenly Rachel remembered her father. He would want to know about Georgina. He would be upset if she didn’t call him. In fact, she should have called him first thing this morning. It was what Roxanne would have done.
“You know what? I just remembered,” she said to David. “I should call my father.”
“Of course,” David said. “I forgot about him.”
Rachel walked down the hall to the nurses’ station, where a tiny redheaded aide directed her to the nearest pay phone. Rachel dropped in her quarter and pressed the numbers for her father’s office.
“Mr. Carlton’s office.”
“Hi, Pilar.” She took a deep breath. “Th-this is Roxanne. Is Daddy there?”
“Well, hi, sugar,” his secretary of twenty-two years said. “So you’re back, eh? How was it? Wonderful?”
“Yes,” Rachel said. “Wonderful.”
“Your daddy’s on another line, but it’s just one of his old poker cronies. So let me go in and do my sign language thing,” Pilar said. “He’ll be wantin’ to talk to you, I know.”
“Thanks.”
“Angel!” her father’s voice boomed a few minutes later. “I wondered if you were home. Was plannin’ on stoppin’ by later, in fact.”
“Hi, Daddy,” Rachel said. As always, her emotions were mixed. “I’m sorry I didn’t call you earlier, but something’s happened.” She quickly explained.
“I’ll be right there,” he said when she’d finished.
“There’s no reason for you to come,” she said hurriedly. God, that’s all she needed.
“No reason? Georgina Hanson is like family to me. Hell, she is family now. Of course I’m comin’.” Then his voice softened. “Besides, my little girl needs me, and I’m not about to let her down.”
Rachel stood by the phone for long minutes after she’d hung up. She needed to gather her strength, get herself under steely control and marshal every bit of acting talent she possessed. Because now, when David needed all the support he could get, would be a disastrous time for the truth about her to be exposed.
Five minutes later, silently telling herself she could carry out her charade for just a little while longer, she rejoined David and Virginia and settled down to wait for her father’s arrival.
Chapter Nine
The combination of love and pain she always felt when she saw her father flooded Rachel as, forty-five minutes later, he walked off the elevator and headed down the hall toward her.
As always, he was nattily dressed in a tailored chocolate brown suit, pale yellow shirt and geometric print silk tie. Although Wylie Carlton was every inch a man’s man—and proud of it—he took an unusual interest in clothing, a part of his personality Rachel had always considered an anomaly.
“Angel,” he said, reaching her side and enveloping her in a bear hug. He kissed her cheek, smiling down at her as he released her. “I sure am glad you’re home. I missed my girl.”
Rachel smiled weakly.
Next, her father pumped David’s hand, then threw his arm around him, saying, “I’m real sorry about your grandmother, son. Do you know anything yet?”
David shook his head. “Not yet. Dr. Burnside’s in there with her now, and we’ve been waiting for him to come out and talk to us.”
Wylie frowned. “How long has it been?”
“Since he arrived, you mean?”
“Yes.”
“About an hour and a. half.”
“You mean to say he hasn’t come out at all?” Wylie bellowed. “There’s no excuse for that!”
David started to reply, but Wylie barreled right over him. “Does he know you’re out here waiting?” he demanded, his voice getting louder.
“Yes, but—”
“You’re just too damned nice, David,” “Wylie said, cutting David off again. “Now me, I’m not, so I’m gonna go down to that nurses’ station and raise a little ruckus.”
Before David could protest—and Lord knows Rachel knew better than to try to stop her father—Wylie stormed down the hall and began berating the luckless nurse who happened to be manning the station at that moment.
“Go in there and tell Dr. Burnside that we want some answers out here,” he ordered in his I’m-the boss-and-won’t-accept-any-excuses voice.
“I’m very sorry, sir,” the nurse said, “but I have no authority to go inside and tell Dr. Burnside anything. Why don’t you have a seat with Mrs. Hanson’s relatives? I’m sure Dr. Burnside will be out when he has something to report. In the meantime, if you’ll just be pa—”
“Now, you listen here, young lady. I guess you don’t know who I am, but I happen to be one of the biggest supporters of this hospital. In fact, the pediatric wing is named after me, and I’m tellin’ you, I want some answers and I want ‘em now!”
He thumped his fist on the counter for emphasis, and several people who were standing talking at the other end of the corridor turned around to look.
Rachel cringed. She hated it when her father threw his weight around, yet she knew Roxanne would prob ably have been cheering him on, so she tried to hide her embarrassment and pretend this behavior was perfectly acceptable.
“Please don’t shout at me,” the nurse said. “I am not hard-of-hearing.”
“Maybe not,” Wylie said, his face getting red, “but you do seem to have a problem following orders.”
“Mr. Carlton.” The nurse glared at him. “Number one, I do know who you are. Number two, I don’t care how many wings you’ve endowed, I do not take orders from you. Number three, I am not going to tell you again. Either you stop shouting at me and go sit down quietly, or I will call security and have you forcibly evicted.”
Rachel felt a tug of admiration for the nurse. Not many people had enough nerve to stand up to her father, and especially not in public.
Because Wylie’s pride wouldn’t let
him back down without at least a show of resistance, he sputtered for a few more minutes, then angrily charged back down the hall, where he proceeded to lambaste the nurse, the hospital, Dr. Burnside and everyone else he could think of before finally settling down on a leather chair across from Rachel. For the next ten minutes he continued to grumble and throw venomous looks in the direction of the nurse, who completely ignored him.
Thankfully, about fifteen minutes later—just as Rachel began to worry her father might cause another scene—the double doors opened, and this time Dr. Burnside strode through. Rachel’s heart beat faster. She said a silent prayer that the news would be good, and reached for Virginia’s hand.
David got up and walked over to meet him. Close on his heels was Rachel’s father, who gave the doctor a curt greeting.
“How is she, Doctor?” David asked.
“I’m not going to soft-soap this, David,” Dr. Burnside said gravely. “Your grandmother had a serious attack, and for a while there, I was afraid we were going to lose her. However, she seems to have stabilized, and I’m feeling more optimistic about her chances.”
“Thank God,” Virginia said.
Rachel silently echoed Virginia’s sentiments.
“But don’t ask me to make any predictions right now,” the doctor continued. “We’ll monitor her closely for the next twenty-four to forty-eight hours and see how she does. Then, depending on how much improvement there is, we’ll be better able to tell what her prognosis is.”
He went on to explain in explicit medical terms exactly what had happened to Georgina Hanson and how much damage had been done to her heart.
It was, indeed, serious, Rachel thought, studying David’s face as he listened, seeing how hard all this had hit him and the fear he was trying to hide. She understood. Despite what he’d said about Rachel being his family now, his grandmother was his sole remaining link to his parents and to his past. It would be very hard on him if he were to lose her.
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