Flying High

by Gwynne Forster

  “What is it, Aunt Lena? What’s the matter? Is Ricky all right?”

  “Hold on, the ambulance is here. I’ll call you when we get to George Washington University Hospital. Bye.” Lena hung up.

  “Aunt Lena!” The sound of the dial tone heightened her frustration. She didn’t know whether something had happened to Ricky, her aunt was ill, or what.

  She packed her briefcase and cleared and locked her desk. “I’ll be away for the remainder of the day,” she told her receptionist. “If you need me, call my cellular phone number.” After telephoning Nelson’s office and leaving a message with his secretary, she left her own office and hailed a taxi. She didn’t have hours to search for a parking place. At the hospital’s information desk, she learned that Ricky had been admitted and was being prepared for surgery.

  “What’s his problem? Why is he having surgery?”

  “Sorry, madam, we give particulars only to family members.”

  “I’m a physician,” she said, showing her credentials.

  “But you’re not a family member. Sorry.”

  She loved the child as much as if she had given birth to him, but because she wasn’t a member of his family she was denied information about his condition. She went outside and walked back and forth in front of the entrance, trying to think of a way to get to her Aunt Lena. She didn’t even know the floor on which Ricky was being treated.

  * * *

  In preparation for his return to Afghanistan, Nelson wrote a new will making Ricky his principal heir and naming Lena a secondary beneficiary and Ricky’s guardian in his absence. As he signed the affidavit, it depressed and saddened him that Audrey’s name did not appear on the document. Though he had searched his conscience and his heart, he couldn’t find a logical reason for including her.

  He rested his forearms on his desk and cushioned his head with the back of his hands. No matter how he looked at their relationship or how he rationalized having walked away from her with that note of finality, he couldn’t convince himself that she deserved it, that he hadn’t been too demanding. One thing was certain: he still loved her and he didn’t expect that to change for a long time.

  With a feeling of resignation, he went down to the Pentagon’s atrium to the law offices of R&R Blake to have the affidavit notarized and the will probated.

  As he returned to his office door, he heard Holden’s voice. “I see you’re up for a trip back to Kabul. Afghanistan sure isn’t a reward for good behavior. Whose left side did you land on?”

  He stared down at Holden, enjoying his three-inch advantage in height. “I don’t question the Commandant’s decisions. My job is to carry out orders to the best of my ability.”

  “You don’t say.”

  Nelson didn’t miss the sneer that accompanied those three words. And it didn’t escape him that Holden had forgotten the word sir and that his audaciousness seemed more flagrant each time they met. He went on to his office where he saw the light blinking on his answering machine.

  “Nelson, this is Audrey. Something’s happened either to Ricky or Aunt Lena, I don’t know which. Aunt Lena said the ambulance was taking them to George Washington Hospital. I’m on my way there now.”

  He buzzed his secretary, who told him that his housekeeper had telephoned and wanted him to call home, but didn’t leave a message.

  “I’m going to George Washington University Hospital. Something’s happened. I’ll be in touch as soon as I have some information.”

  Outside, oblivious to the late summer heat and humidity, he hailed a taxi. At such times, with parking space at a premium, one’s own car could be a liability. “GW Hospital, and step on it, please.”

  * * *

  “Audrey!”

  She heard Nelson’s voice, whirled around and ran to him, and as if he had never terminated their brief relationship, his arms opened to receive her. He clasped her to him, though only briefly.

  “It’s Ricky,” she said, “but I don’t know what happened. He’s in surgery.”

  His face ashened, the rapid movement of his Adam’s apple betraying the somber nature of his thoughts and emotions. “Come on.”

  Within minutes, he had passes for them, and she glanced at the woman who, minutes earlier, had denied her entrance.

  Lena ran to them when they walked into the waiting room. “Lord, Colonel, I just been out of my mind. That child’s knee is plumb near twisted backward. He fell off his bicycle and landed right into that old chinaberry tree in front of the house. Seems like he was trying to avoid hitting a squirrel. I tell you, Colonel, the poor little thing did scream. He hurt so bad.”

  “How long has he been in there?”

  Lena looked at her watch. “I’d say about forty minutes.”

  “I see. We may be here for a while.” He let his gaze sweep the room. “Why don’t we sit over there by that window?”

  Audrey felt as if she’d taken a blow to the head. What if that knee didn’t respond to surgery?

  An hour later, a doctor still wearing his green scrubs walked into the waiting room. “Ms. Alexander?” The three adults rushed to the man.

  “I’m Nelson Wainwright, Ricky’s uncle and legal guardian. How is he?”

  A smile skittered across the man’s mouth. “Ricky’s fine. There’s no reason why he shouldn’t recover completely, with the proper therapy, of— Say, aren’t you Dr. Audrey Powers?”

  “Yes, but—”

  “He’s in good hands, sir. The very best. We want to keep him overnight because he’s still under anesthesia, but he can go home after eleven tomorrow morning.” He turned his attention to Audrey. “I’ll send you some pictures of his knee as we found it, what we did, and my proposals for therapy, although I’m sure you don’t need the latter. It’s routine.”

  She opened her mouth to tell the doctor that Ricky wouldn’t be in her care, but Nelson cut her off. “Thank you, Doctor. Therapy shouldn’t be a problem, as Ricky is very fond of Dr. Powers.”

  They walked out of the hospital into the late afternoon sunshine, and Lena grasped Nelson’s hand. “It don’t feel right going home without Ricky. Suppose he wakes up scared and don’t know where he is.”

  “They’ll see that he sleeps through the night, Aunt Lena. I wonder if he’ll need a wheelchair for a few days. Maybe...” She looked at Nelson, fearing she had ventured where she didn’t belong.

  “Maybe what?” he asked her.

  “Do you think we...I mean you ought to stop by the hospital supply pharmacy and rent one for him?”

  “If you think we should, yes. Will you come with us?”

  They chose one for a child Ricky’s age to be delivered to the hospital the following morning, and she prepared to leave Nelson and her aunt. But the weight of the day bore heavily upon her, and she dreaded leaving Nelson.

  When he asked if she drove, she shook her head, not trusting her voice. “Neither did I,” he said. “Come on home with Lena and me.”

  She should decline what could merely be a courteous gesture from a considerate man, but instead she grasped the offer. “I’d like that, Nelson. Somehow I don’t much feel like going home.”

  His brown eyes darkened as he focused on her, his gaze, indeed his entire demeanor, telegraphing to her what she longed to know, but didn’t dare believe. Taking her hand, he said, “You belong with us. Come on.”

  Chapter 11

  After a dinner that Nelson had ordered from his favorite take-out restaurant, Audrey sat with him on the deck overlooking his garden while Lena cleared the dining room and kitchen. “Am I right that you’re preoccupied?” Nelson asked her.

  She didn’t want to share with him her dilemma about Gerald Latham Junior, because that would be tantamount to opening a can of worms, introducing a topic she couldn’t bear to face right then.

 
; “Sorry, I have some decisions to make about a young patient, and I seem unable to get that out of my head.”

  “Maybe Ricky’s accident, his being in the hospital and needing therapy, have something to do with it. That would certainly be understandable.”

  “Maybe.”

  “How did you happen to call me about this?”

  “Aunt Lena was so excited when she called me. The ambulance arrived immediately after she began talking, and she hung up without telling me what was wrong or with whom. Just said she was going to GW Hospital. I didn’t know whether, in her state, she had the presence of mind to alert you.”

  “I’m deeply grateful to you, not just for calling me but for rushing here to help, to be with us. I can’t tell you what it means to me.”

  She struggled against giving in to the lump that formed in her throat. “Don’t you know that I couldn’t have done otherwise?”

  He focused his soft brown eyes on her, and she gave thanks for the oak tree that shaded her face from the moonlight. “I...uh...think I’d better be going,” she said, taking her cellular phone from her purse. “What’s the number of the cab company you use?”

  “I’ll call the taxi,” he said, “and I’ll take you home.”

  They spoke very little during the ride to her house, and she was glad, because she didn’t want superficial words, useless banalities, with him. Given a choice between silence and superficiality, she’d take silence any day.

  The taxi neared her house, and the pain of their last parting invaded her thoughts, her mind and finally her heart, the experience becoming once more fresh and biting. He opened her door with the key she handed him and stood there staring down into her eyes. Tension knotted her insides and her heart pounded with such force that she feared he would hear it.

  Minutes passed, and still he gazed into her eyes, neither speaking nor touching her. Unable to tolerate longer the sensation of being suspended in midair, she bit the bullet.

  “Did you miss me?” she asked him. “And have you forgiven whatever I did or didn’t do?”

  “Oh, I missed you all right. Missed you like hell,” he said in guttural tones. “As for the rest, my conscience has been telling me I demanded too much of you, but...well, I don’t know. Are you willing to...for us to talk about it?”

  “I think we should.”

  “All right. You asked if I miss you. What about you? Did you want to see me?”

  She nodded. “Love doesn’t end so abruptly. Thanks for coming home with me.”

  “Don’t thank me for it. I...I wanted to. I’ll call you tomorrow afternoon. Good night.”

  She said good-night, but he didn’t move. His eyes telegraphed the message that his lips wouldn’t express: he wanted her. Frissons of heat raced through her as the man in him connected with her femininity, galvanizing her with his sexual aura. Pressing her luck, she reached up, kissed him on the mouth and pushed the door open to go inside. But arms like steel locked around her, gripping her to him, and she looked up into eyes that blazed with the fire of desire.

  “Baby, I need to taste you, to love you. I’m on fire for you.”

  Why was he asking permission? She locked her hands behind his head, brought his lips down to her open mouth and he plunged into her. Shivers plowed through her as he flicked and dueled his tongue with hers, darting here and there, tasting every crevice of her mouth and then plunging in and out with a growing urgency that robbed her of breath. Heat seared her feminine center and she wanted to open to him, to know again the power of his loins, to feel him driving within her. But she needed more than the physical relief she knew he would give her, and this time, it was she who halted it.

  “Honey,” she whispered as she fought for breath, “I don’t think we should do this. As you said last week, we have other things to settle first. It isn’t that I don’t want you. Lord knows I do, but I realize now that I need more from you.”

  The smile around his lips failed to brighten his eyes. “And I from you. But this morning I thought I’d never have you like this again, and just now, I let go. You’re right. We’ll talk tomorrow.”

  * * *

  She slept fitfully. Images of Gerald Latham Junior in a wheelchair with his right knee bandaged merged with Ricky on crutches trying to maneuver with a mangled foot. By the time she was fully awake, a pounding in her head forced her out of bed.

  All right. All right. I’ll give Gerald Junior the treatment he needs, but not before I expose that philandering father of his. Socialite Jemma Latham is going to know what kind of man she married.

  As soon as she got to work that morning, she told her receptionist to give Jemma Latham an appointment for the next day. Ten minutes later, she answered the phone to hear Jemma Latham’s voice, nearly unrecognizable through tears.

  “I prayed so hard, Dr. Powers. I never prayed before in my life. But God has answered my prayers, and I know he will bless you. I won’t try to thank you, because I don’t have words to express how I feel right now. Dr. Horn said that if you treat Gerald, he will walk like any other boy. I...I just want to tell you what this means to me. I’ll be there with Gerald tomorrow morning at ten.”

  She stared at the receiver she held in her right hand. Stared and stared long after saying goodbye to Jemma Latham, who had asked God to bless her. How could she blast that woman’s world by telling her that her husband had deceived her, that he had lied about his marital status and cheated on her with another woman?

  She couldn’t do that. Neither the woman nor her son should have to pay for Gerald’s infidelity. She got the telephone director and found the man’s office address and phone number. Imagine! Eleven short blocks from her office, and she hadn’t seen him in over five years.

  “Dr. Latham is busy,” an officious voice informed her when she called.

  “Tell him Dr. Audrey Powers is on the line.” She marveled that the prospect of speaking with him didn’t stir in her a single emotion or feeling other than distaste.

  “Audrey, my dear, what a treat! It’s great to hear from you. I understand you may be treating my boy. He couldn’t be in better hands.”

  Same old air-bag. “This isn’t a social call, Dr. Latham,” she said, swallowing the bile that rose from her throat. “I thought of getting revenge for your treachery by refusing to give your son the care he needs, but he shouldn’t suffer for your sins. Then I thought I’d give him the care, but not before I let your wife know what you did to me.”

  His gasp reached her through the wires. “Please, I... I... Please.”

  “What’s the matter, Gerald? You think you should take a woman’s virginity, and a minute after you’ve sated yourself, tell her it’s her problem if you made her pregnant, because you’re already married? After you’d represented yourself as a single medical student when you were, in fact, both married and a practicing physician? You think a heel like you should escape retribution?”

  “Please. I...I’m begging you. I’ll make it up to you if you’ll just tell me how. I’m up for office in the medical society, and if this gets out, it will ruin me. That was a long time ago, and you’re at the top of your profession now. You’re further up than I am. I’m still making it. Can’t you...just let bygones be bygones?”

  “Go ahead and sweat. You won’t know when I decide to drop the hatchet, but you can be sure it will drop because I’ve waited a long time for this. What I didn’t expect is that you would cower like an obsequious, feckless wimp.” She hung up without waiting for his response. Let him worry about it, worry until he got on his knees and confessed to his wife. And he would, she had no doubt of it, because she’d scared him almost senseless.

  How sweet it was! In his servility, he destroyed both her pain and her anger. She dismissed him from her thoughts along with all that he stood for. Relieved of a yoke that had burdened her for years, she prepared for her
first patient. Humming and darting around the office with lithe steps, she was about to question her high mood when it occurred to her that she no longer hated Gerald Latham, that she pitied him and no longer felt a need to hurt him. Stunned by the realization, she flopped into her desk chair.

  Well, I’ll be damned.

  The morning brightened as it lengthened and by midday she could say with honesty that she hadn’t known greater pleasure in her work, that she had enjoyed it, as had her patients. She got a hamburger and a bottle of lemonade from the cafeteria, returned to her office and began her plans for Gerald Junior. It wouldn’t be easy, and he wouldn’t mend quickly, but when she’d finished treating him, he would walk normally.

  “Dr. Powers, Colonel Wainwright on two.”

  “Hello, Nelson. How’s Ricky?” She laughed at herself when she added, “And you, too, of course?”

  “Thanks. I don’t mind taking second place to Ricky today, but see that you don’t make a habit of it. We’re home with him. He has a little pain, hates being in a wheelchair and wants to know whether you’re coming to see him.”

  “Tell him I’ll stop by after work.”

  “I had hoped you would. Audrey, I want you to give Ricky his therapy. I’m aware that you will balk at payment, but he’s insured at high premiums, and the insurance ought to pay. You may send your bill directly to the company.”

  “Of course I’ll do it. I wouldn’t want anyone else to take care of him. We’ll discuss that money business some other time. How do you feel? I mean, how is your neck?

  “Same old, same old. I’ve learned to tolerate it better.”

  “Hmm. I see.”

  “Will you have supper with us tonight?”

  She didn’t want to settle into a comfortable routine with him. He had opened her eyes to the shortcomings of their relationship and to what she needed deep down in a man. She wanted that, and wanted it with him.

  “I’d planned on seeing my baby sister tonight, but I’d love to another time soon.”