What She Doesn't Know

by Tina Wainscott

  “No. I don’t know how to use one, and I don’t want to. I’m not asking you to make the same promise you made to Sherry.”

  With a ragged breath, he said, “Yes, you are,” and walked to the kitchen to call the locksmith.

  CHAPTER 16

  Rita woke the next morning and looked for Christopher, who was sleeping on the floor in front of the bedroom’s French doors. He’d taken off his shirt and kicked away the sheets during the night. His short dark hair was mussed. She knew he hadn’t slept much the night before; it was midnight before the locksmith had finished installing deadbolts on all the doors and locks on the windows. Even with that extra assurance, even with Christopher’s insistence that they sleep in the same room, and change rooms every night, he had still stayed up long after she had fallen exhausted into Brian’s bed.

  Her mind hadn’t let her fall right to sleep, either. She kept seeing the eerie masked face in the darkness, kept replaying Christopher’s words. He had opened himself up to her, yet he seemed further away than ever.

  Probably because he hated her for making him tell that awful story, more so since it hadn’t scared her away.

  She got out of bed and told herself she would not pause and look at him. He was lying on his back with one arm slung across his stomach. She looked at the scar in a whole new way, and knew that every time he saw it, he must be reminded of his failed promise.

  Well, that resolve lasted long.

  She couldn’t help it. He had a beautiful body, at least as much as she could see of it. Skin smooth and taut, stomach flat and hard, and nipples tight from the cool air in the room. She found herself wanting to pull up the white blanket to cover him but stopped herself. For one terrible moment, she envied Sherry for having shared a bed with him, and more than that.

  After a hot shower, she went downstairs. She smelled coffee and told herself that the jump of her heartbeat was only because of the spicy coffee and not the spicy gumbo that would be in the kitchen.

  He was wearing white sweats and looked just as sexy and disheveled as he had the previous morning, with a fair amount of stubble darkening his face. She’d always told herself that having a man around in the mornings would throw off her whole routine. As she took him in, leaning against the counter with a steaming mug in hand, she wondered if routine was such a good thing after all.

  “I could get used to this…coffee,” she added quickly. She accepted the mug he poured for her.

  “It’s addicting, isn’t it?”

  “Oh, yeah.” Addicting. “How’d you sleep?”

  “I feel hung-over.”

  “You don’t have to sleep on the floor.” As those words that had come so easily from her mouth sunk in, she realized what she was saying.

  “Oh, yes, I do.” He finished his mug and rinsed it out. “I’m going to take a shower, then we’ll go to the hospital.”

  She reached out and touched his arm, making him pause. “Christopher, I’m sorry.”

  She wasn’t sure exactly what she was sorry for, but it included making him tell her about Sherry. He nodded and then continued on. Apology accepted. Maybe. She glanced out the back window and sipped her coffee.

  When one of the trees that separated the two yards moved, she narrowed her eyes and stared at it. Maybe she’d imagined it. Why would Velda be watching her? She didn’t have the allure of a mystery. Except she had been a mystery once, when Christopher tracked her down at work. When she remembered the scene, she saw Marty’s protective stance and that sent a stab of guilt through her. She owed her friend a call.

  “What is going on with you?” Marty asked the second Rita identified herself. “You are worrying me out of my mind.”

  “I know, I’m a lousy friend. Everything is so…complicated. I don’t want to get into all the details, but I can’t leave yet.”

  “Why are you doing this?”

  “I don’t know if I’m staying for me, for Brian or for—”

  “You’re in love with him. I can hear it in your voice. You are, aren’t you?”

  “Of course I am. Not. Am not!”

  “Are, too! Don’t deny it. I’m a trained professional.”

  “Okay.” Rita’s heart thudded in her chest at the admission.

  It took Marty a moment to digest that. “Okay? Just like that?”

  “Well, you said—”

  “I know, but I figured I’d have to cajole you some more.” Another moment passed. “You’re in love with him.”

  “I think so. I’ve never felt this way before, but I have a bad feeling that’s what it is.”

  “Rita, this is nuts. The man is in a coma.”

  “I’m not talking about Brian! I’m in love with…the other one.” She let the words drift off, then turned to make sure he wasn’t standing there listening. That was all she needed, like the scene in Jerry Maguire.

  “That’s almost as nuts! The guy gave you a nosebleed without even touching you.”

  “But he kissed me last night, and I didn’t get a nosebleed.” Course, he’d taken her by surprise.

  “Kissed you! That guy is bad news.”

  “Marty, I can’t explain this, not even to myself. I’m probably going to end up with my heart in pieces on the floor, but I cannot leave.”

  “Well, babe, you know I’ll be here to pick up the pieces. I’ll even bring the Scotch tape.”

  “You’re a good friend.”

  “Yes, I am and don’t you forget it. Call if you need me. And speaking of that, your mom called me a few days ago. She really wants to make things right with you. She asked me for advice. I told her, ‘Heck, Rita doesn’t even open up to me.’ I think it would be good for both of you if you forgave her.”

  “I know.”

  “But?”

  She couldn’t seem to let go of her anger.

  Marty let out an exasperated sigh. “You could at least call her. She’s worried about you, about this trip. I haven’t told her anything, but that only worries her more.”

  “I’ll think about it. How’s Pauline doing with the mirror OCD?”

  They discussed the patient that Marty had taken over and her obsessive compulsion to look at every reflection she passed by. Rita was satisfied that Marty was doing a good job with her continued therapy. “Thanks for taking some of my patients. I’m going to stick with my three until I’m back in the swing again. I’d better get going. I’ve got a few more calls to make.”

  After she hung up, she took a slip of paper out of her purse and dialed the phone.

  “Angela?” Rita said when a woman’s voice answered.

  “Rita? Is that you, girl?” Baby-girl, the voice echoed from long ago.

  She twirled the phone cord around her fingers. “Yes, it’s me. I just…I just wanted to say hello.”

  “Hello? Hello? What is going on with you? I’ve been worried to death!”

  Rita turned to the courtyard. “I didn’t mean to worry you.”

  “Rita, you are my daughter.” She enunciated those words, as though Rita could forget. “Oh, hell.” Silence for a few seconds. Angela’s voice sounded thicker when she spoke again. “Let me worry some, will you? I’ve got a lot of worrying over you to catch up on. Why are you down in New Orleans?”

  “Just taking a vacation, that’s all. I needed to get away for a while.” No need to tell her more than that.

  “Then why is your friend worried about you?”

  “Marty said she was worried?”

  “She didn’t have to. I could hear it in her voice. You going to tell me what’s going on or are you going to keep punishing me for being a lousy mother?”

  Rita couldn’t swallow. “I’m not punishing you. Maybe I’m not ready to be your daughter yet. It’s not a role I’m familiar with, okay?”

  “Oh, hell.” Rita heard more pain in those words than she cared to. “Just tell me you’re all right. Just tell me that.”

  “I’m all right. Mama.” The word choked in her throat, painful and bittersweet. Rita heard s
omething on the other end of the line, something close to a sob. “I have to go now.”

  “Rita…you call me if you need me, okay?”

  Her hand clenched on the phone. She couldn’t imagine needing her mom again. “Bye.” For a few minutes, she held onto the phone, even after hearing the click on the other end.

  “Get assaulted by the phone gremlin?” Christopher asked, looking way too good in white pants and a plum-and-white striped sweater.

  After giving him a questioning look, she followed his gaze to the curly phone cord wrapped around her. “Oops. I’m not used to corded phones. I really need to find a charger.” She untangled herself. “You look less hung over.”

  “Amazing what a tub full of cold water will do. Ready?”

  “Tub? As in bathtub?”

  He nodded slowly. “Yes. Those concave porcelain structures designed for holding water.”

  “I know what they are. I just can’t see you taking a bath, that’s all.” Then she could, legs propped up on the edge, chest slick with suds. And then she really wished she couldn’t as heat engulfed her face.

  He was probably wondering what she was thinking about then. Could he tell she’d fallen for him? She hoped not; the guy would push her so far away they’d be in different states.

  They both stiffened when the phone rang.

  “It’s only rung a few times since I’ve been here,” he said as he went to answer it. A faint voice asked for Brian. “Brian’s in the hospital, but I can help you. I’m his brother, Christopher.” She gave up trying to hear what the man on the other end was saying and let her gaze roam down his white jeans as he continued to talk. “Okay, I’ll be in to make it right.” He hung up. “That’s odd. Brian rents a warehouse over in one of the run-down areas of the city. I recognize the address; it’s where the krewe used to store their parade floats. For some reason he’s been renting it from this real estate office for the last two years. He always pays cash, one lump sum a year, and he’s late. I told the guy I’d settle up, but I want a key so I can check it out. Maybe we can find out more about Brian’s secret life.”

  Before she gathered her purse and coat, Christopher’s cell phone rang. After talking with someone, he said, “That was Dr. Schaeffer. He wants to see us.”

  Brian’s doctor met Christopher and Rita at the nurse’s station. He had a hopeful light in his gray eyes that quelled the anxiety his call had produced. “I’d like to show you something.”

  The guard left the room to give them privacy as the doctor led them into Brian’s room. He directed their attention to his hand. “Brian, if you can hear me, move your hand.”

  Rita held her breath as they waited. Slowly, Brian’s hand contracted.

  “Brian!” She rushed forward and took his hand in hers. “You’re coming back to us!” She turned to Christopher. “I can feel him move.”

  “Some patients move involuntarily, but he’s responded several times to a question. It looks like he may be coming out.” The doctor nodded for them to join him at the far corner of the room and spoke softly. “As I told Christopher before, once he starts to come out, we don’t know how long the process is going to take. It’s not like in the movies where the patient suddenly wakes and is his old self. Especially a patient who’s been in a coma state for as long as Brian has. It might take months or even years. I want you to be prepared. You’ll need to work with the rehabilitative nurses so they can train you for when Brian goes home. I’ve already contacted a physiatrist to oversee Brian’s rehab program.”

  Christopher looked at Brian. “Sounds hopeful.”

  Dr. Schaeffer’s voice went low again. “Yes, but hope is relative where brain injuries are concerned. He’ll likely have to relearn the most basic skills, like walking and talking. He may never fully recover, but he can make a lot of progress.”

  “He’s still in there,” Rita said. “He just has to learn to communicate with us again.”

  Christopher asked, “Will he remember what happened the night he fell? Or his life at all?”

  “Most patients have no memory of the event that put them in the coma. The medical staff on this floor will be instructed to give Brian around-the-clock stimulation. I encourage you to stop in as much as possible and talk to him.”

  “Absolutely,” she answered for both of them, relieved that people would be in and out of his room.

  Dr. Schaeffer took in Rita’s enthusiasm. “The man you knew will be different from the man who comes out of this coma. Don’t be surprised if your feelings change. And don’t feel guilty. Just be a friend and see what the future brings.”

  “I will.” She’d already grappled with those issues. He was different from the man she’d met online. Her feelings had changed. She’d definitely felt guilt, but no matter what, she would be a friend.

  After Dr. Schaeffer left, Rita knew Christopher was thinking about all those months ahead, and his role in the process, as he stared at the man on the bed. “Are you going to stay?” she asked softly.

  “He’s my brother.”

  He looked like a man who had no choice in the matter. No matter what he said, no matter what anyone had ever told him he was, he was a man of honor. He just didn’t like it.

  She reached out and took Brian’s hand. “Brian, Christopher and I are here. Can you hear me?” The movement was almost imperceptible. “He can.” Their eyes met, but Christopher dropped his gaze to the hand she’d linked with Brian’s. “We’re going to figure this all out. We know about your alter ego, Alta. We even understand why. You know, the whole king thing. But we still don’t know what Xanadu is yet. We’re going to the warehouse after we leave here. I hope it will help us solve this puzzle you’ve given us.” She glanced up at Christopher, who stood there looking a little lost. “Do you want to say anything to him? I can leave if you’d like.”

  He kept his gaze on Brian. “I don’t know what to say.”

  She reached over and took Christopher’s hand, linking all three of them together. “You’re here. That says a lot.” She turned to Brian. “When you come back, you and Christopher need to have a long talk. I think it’s time you got to know each other.” She smiled at Christopher. “He squeezed my hand! He agrees.”

  Movement near the open doorway caught her eye, and she disengaged her hand to check it out. She was hoping to catch Aris out there, but all she did was startle both the security guard and a janitor. The man resumed his mopping.

  “Something wrong?” the guard asked.

  “What’s up?” Christopher said from behind her.

  “Just checking.”

  When she returned to Brian’s side, she didn’t get any response. “He’s gone back to the gray place.” She tried coaxing him back with no luck.

  Christopher kept his gaze on Brian, or more specifically, on all the tubes keeping him alive. “Did you have someone trying to bring you back from the gray place?”

  “Marty, the one who came to my rescue in the lobby. She’s a good friend. And my mother surprised me and came up from Jersey. She’s trying to be my mom after all these years.”

  “The one you’re not ready to be a daughter to yet.”

  She blinked. “You heard my conversation?”

  He merely lifted one shoulder. Of course, she could hardly reprimand him for eavesdropping.

  “It’s a start. Calling her, I mean. I have to get used to the idea of having a mother. It’s strange.”

  “At least you have the chance to make it right.”

  “Yeah, I do, don’t I?” She wanted to tell him he had the chance, too, but decided not to lecture him. “If you knew my life, you’d understand why I went into counseling. I wish I could make all parents take a course and get a license. Can’t leave the hospital without one, and it has to be renewed every three years. Then there wouldn’t be people like us dealing with the crap our parents dumped on us. I even did my thesis on it.” She ducked her head. “Sorry, I get on my soapbox sometimes. It’s a personal issue for me.”

  He r
egarded her with a speculative smile. “I can see that.”

  “Don’t you get angry when these women on the Internet come to you because no one else will help them?”

  “Sure. But I don’t get personally involved.”

  She thought of Sherry. “No, I don’t suppose you can.”

  He met her gaze, and she felt a fission of understanding pass between them. It didn’t surprise her that he was the first to turn away. He turned to Brian, staring at the man beneath the tubes. She wanted to touch Christopher, to lend her unspoken support, but she pressed her hand against her thigh and turned around. He stood there for a few minutes, and each one of them felt like an eternity.

  Finally he turned around. “Let’s go check out the warehouse.”

  He watched Christopher and Rita head down the hall to the elevators as he pushed the mop across the floor for what was probably the hundredth time. He’d better move on before someone noticed he’d been outside Brian’s room too long. Then they might notice that his identification badge didn’t even apply to this hospital or that his overalls didn’t fit.

  They’d hired a security guard to protect their precious Brian. The skinny guard was probably keeping an eye out for a green-eyed nurse named Aris. She’d never return again, but someone else would. Brian couldn’t come back from his coma. He had betrayed Sira, rejected her, and had tried to cheat her out of her rightful place. He was a traitor and would be treated as such.

  He felt an ache in his chest and bent over the mop handle. Now he would take care of things.

  “You all right there, buddy?” the guard asked as he walked back into Brian’s room.

  He only nodded and pushed onward. He couldn’t let himself think of those pages Brian had written or especially the way they’d brought tears to Sira’s eyes. It was all before Rita had stolen him away, he reminded himself. Too late for regrets.

  Rita and Christopher already knew too much. He couldn’t hear everything they said, but he’d heard Xanadu and Alta. They’d even found the warehouse, damn them. It was too late to change the location for the Gathering. No, it had to go on as scheduled. That meant he had to get rid of them before Fat Tuesday.