Been In Love Before: A Novel

by Bryan Mooney

  “I don’t know.”

  “Alexi, come on now.”

  “Well, I believe the phrase was ‘He who tires of London, tires of life,’ by Samuel Johnson. But they were both right.” They laughed.

  “So you have everything you need for our adventure?”

  “Yes, and I’m really looking forward to it and spending quiet time, alone with you—in Paris, no less. What could be better?” As if on cue, his cell phone rang. He ignored it.

  “Perhaps you better answer it? It could be important,” she said.

  “No, I am off work starting today, and the family can get by without me for an hour. What are they going to do when I’m thousands of miles away in France?” The ringing stopped. Then it began again.

  “I think you should answer it, please.”

  “All right,” he said as he reached for his phone. From the caller ID he could tell it was Robert. “Hey, what’s up, bro? I’m at lunch. Can I call you back later . . . ?” He listened intently. The color drained from his face. “I’ll be right there.”

  He turned to look at her. “I’m sorry. I must leave. It’s Patti—she was rushed to the hospital.”

  “Go, call me later,” she told him.

  “I’m sorry, Alexi,” he said as he kissed her cheek. “I’ll make it up to you.”

  “Go. We’ll have plenty of time for lunches, in Paris.”

  She saw it in his eyes; it was subtle, but something had changed. She watched him walk away, and a strange chill engulfed her. What do I do? I’m falling in love with him.

  Chapter Forty-Seven

  Mary Kate made it to the famed resort in record time, and as she pulled up to the security guard at the drive-up entrance, he approached her with a smile. “Good morning, ma’am, welcome to the Breakers. May I help you?” Mickey always told her, “If you look like you belong, you can gain entrance anywhere.”

  “Yes, you may. I’m meeting my fiancé for lunch with his parents. They are guests here; their last name is Campbell.”

  He looked up and down his clipboard. “Ah yes, you must be Ms. Macgregor. They are expecting you in the Seafood Bar overlooking the ocean. Just drive straight ahead and stop under the portico, and the valet will take care of your car for you and direct you to the restaurant.”

  “Thank you.”

  “You’re quite welcome, ma’am. Have a nice day,” said the young security guard with a smile.

  The Breakers was located on the “island” of Palm Beach, one of the most exclusive and expensive locales in the country. The Breakers Hotel Complex, destroyed by fire in 1925, was rebuilt by Henry Flagler in 1926 as a place for wealthy Northerners to get away to a luxurious home away from home and escape the horrible winters up north. They liked what they saw and stayed, building huge, expensive estates.

  The “island” of Palm Beach was divided between millionaires, with their luxurious mansions on the Intracoastal Waterway, and the billionaires who built their extravagant estates as second homes facing the ocean.

  Mary Kate noticed the main entranceway was lined with pots of richly colored flowers hanging over the sides, and as she drove up the brick driveway, she saw the two large cupolas on the top of the grand hotel with flags flying high above. She noticed children playing croquet on the lawn off to her right, while their parents sat in the coolness of the shade on the patio in oversize wicker chairs, enjoying their mint juleps.

  The beige-and-off-white ten-story building stood at attention to welcome her as she drove her car underneath the covered portico. Beautiful multicolored flowers were everywhere. Graceful ivy draped the walls below.

  As her sports car rolled to a stop and before she could even reach for the door handle, one of the very attentive valets opened it and reached out to help her from the car.

  “Welcome to the Breakers, ma’am. Will you be staying with us?”

  “No. I’m joining some friends for lunch.”

  “Very fine, madam. Which restaurant would that be?” asked the young-looking attendant. “We have eight. Or I would be happy to check with the concierge if you like.”

  “Thank you, but that won’t be necessary. It’s the Seafood Bar. I’ve been here many times before, and I know my way, thank you.”

  He handed her a parking stub and said with a smile, “Have a nice meal, and enjoy the view.”

  “Thank you,” she said, discreetly handing him a tip for his service.

  The young attendants watched her stroll by, and one held the entrance door open for her as she passed. She was wearing dark sunglasses, white linen slacks, a sheer silk blouse, a gold-and-pearl necklace, and her latest designer handbag. She and her parents had been there many times in the past when her mom was still alive, and she felt as if she belonged there.

  She loved this place, she thought as she walked inside, making a right, past the sofas in the grand lobby filled with hundred-year-old tapestries hanging from the wall, and with solid wood floors. The smell was one she never tired of; it gave you a warm, comfortable feeling; it had the subtle suggestion of old money. It was a nice place to visit, but she liked where she was living—Delray Beach was home to her.

  Mary Kate looked briefly at the shops as she passed by. They sported designer jewelry and clothes, along with beach and sundry items. She turned left and saw the champagne bar in the enclosed outdoor plaza, with sounds of soft Latin jazz music coming from a nearby guitar player.

  She stopped by a mirror to check her makeup and, after seeing the reminder sign posted in the lobby, turned off her cell phone. She took in a deep breath; she was as ready as she would ever be, ready to face the lions. Her hands shook slightly, but as soon as she entered the room and saw Mickey, her fears faded. He had that way about him.

  He kissed her on the cheek and turned to introduce her with a huge smile as he continued to hold her hand. “Mom and Dad, I’d like you to meet Mary Kate Macgregor.”

  “Mr. and Mrs. Campbell, I am so happy to meet you at last, and I am so glad that you were able to make it here for the wedding.”

  His mother beamed with delight, came to her side, and said, “Oh, please, child, nobody calls me Mrs. Campbell. Please call me Claret.” She shook Mary Kate’s hand and then hugged her. “And maybe at some point, you’ll feel kind enough about me to call me Mom.”

  She turned to her son. “Mickey, dear boy, you never told me what a sweetheart you have here.”

  Angus stood by awkwardly until Claret, with her arm around Mary Kate’s shoulders, turned her to face him while whispering loudly for all to hear, “And this old grump here, who looks like he eats nails for breakfast, is my loving husband, Angus. Don’t let him scare you.”

  He shoved his hand forward. “Pleased to meet you, Miss Macgregor.”

  Claret’s piercing evil eye and arched eyebrow penetrated his heart, and he got the message. He stumbled awkwardly toward her, then dropped his hand and went to hug her. “Welcome to the family.” He was a big man and nearly smothered her as he hugged her.

  “Nice to meet you too, sir.”

  “Sit, sit,” he said. “I ordered champagne to celebrate. Dom Pérignon.” She looked at him and then at her; they were going to get along just fine. After the celebratory toast, they ordered lunch.

  Claret reached out to clutch her hand and smiled. “Now tell me all about yourself. My dutiful son has neglected to tell me anything at all about his future wife. So tell me everything.”

  She liked Claret, a lot. As they talked, Mickey and his father discussed business. Then she heard them both laugh and knew everything would be fine. She felt very comfortable with Claret and was warming to Angus. He had a hearty laugh.

  As the waiter brought coffee, Claret said, “Now I understand that tonight we have the rehearsal at the church, then a dinner with the rest of the family?”

  “Yes, the church is down the block from here. It’s called the Chapel-by-the-Sea, and the dinner is at Testa’s on Royal Poinciana Way,” said Mary Kate. “It was one of my mom’s favorites.” She p
aused for a minute. “And tomorrow is the wedding, with the reception back here at the hotel at the Breakers.”

  “I hope there’s a good band; I love to dance.”

  “Yes, ma’am. So do I. It’s a very good band. You’ll have a great time, I promise you.”

  Claret leaned in and whispered, “And your wedding dress? Tell me about it.” Mary Kate smiled; she saw that she was just a little girl at heart.

  “It’s white with rows of beads and pearls down the side. It’s beautiful. The rear bodice is laced with white ribbon. I can’t dress myself, so Patti, my cousin, is coming over to my dad’s house tomorrow before the wedding to help me dress. The front is filled with French lace.”

  Claret whispered, “The front . . . is it . . . cut . . .”

  “Cut low? Heavens no, Miss Claret. It’s very conservative. Would you like to see some pictures? I had some taken on my cell phone during one of the fittings.”

  Her face beamed with a smile. “I would love to see them.”

  Mary Kate reached over and pulled out her bag and found the pictures on her phone. Mickey looked up from his conversation with his father. “What are you two girls talking about over there?”

  Claret hid the phone from him so he could not see the pictures of Mary Kate in her wedding gown. “Just you never mind,” she scolded him. “You just keep having your silly conversations with your father. It’s bad luck for the groom to see his bride in her wedding dress before they’re married. You just go on now,” and she shushed him away with the back of her hand. “Go on.”

  Claret smiled at Mary Kate as if the two of them had their own little secret. They were both having a good time talking together; Mary Kate was what she had always wanted, someone dear and close to talk to.

  Mary Kate excused herself to find the ladies’ room, and when she was returning to her table she heard a familiar voice on a newscast coming from the bar adjacent to the restaurant.

  It was Max being interviewed by a TV news reporter. She stopped to listen to him.

  “We were making our rounds and drove through a parking lot and saw some suspicious activity inside a local liquor store. Then we received a silent alarm and noticed it was a male perpetrator robbing the store at gunpoint.” She moved in closer to be able to hear everything he said.

  “We parked our patrol car, and when he exited the store, we ordered him to drop his weapon. He refused, and then pointed his gun at my partner, firing at him twice. I then discharged my service revolver, striking him with one fatal bullet. He was pronounced dead at the scene. We just happened to be in the neighborhood and were glad we were able to assist before anyone else got hurt.”

  Max’s picture faded from view, and the announcer said, “That was police detective Max Haines of the Delray Beach Police Department responding to a serious situation. The dead suspect was later identified as Phillip Terrell of Delray Shores. In a related story, earlier today police were called to Mr. Terrell’s residence and were attacked by a pit bull at his home. The animal was killed by the responding police officer. Now back to your local news after a word from our sponsors.”

  She stood watching, engrossed by what she saw. She didn’t know whether to be happy or sad, but now she knew that Calley was no longer in danger.

  After she returned to the table and they said their good-byes, Claret tucked her arm inside Mary Kate’s as they walked with her to retrieve her car. Claret kissed her on the cheek and said, “This was wonderful. Thanks for coming on such short notice. I guess I’ll see you in a little while at the rehearsal.” Then, leaning in closer, she said, “I think we’re going to be really good friends. Good-bye, Mary Katherine. See you soon.”

  “Good-bye, Claret. I had a wonderful lunch, and it was so good to meet you.”

  As she drove away, she stopped at a stoplight and retrieved her phone from her purse to check her messages. She was surprised to see six missed calls and three texts: one from her father, one from Robert, and one from Bobby. She read her father’s text first. Her hands began to shake and tremble as she read it:

  Graw—

  URGENT—

  Patti was rushed to Saint John’s hospital with a high fever.

  Not good. Hurry. See you there.

  Pray.

  Dad

  Mary Kate sat there staring in disbelief at her phone until a waiting car behind her honked its horn and brought her back to her reality. She sped away, heading to Saint John’s Hospital as fast as she could drive. God, I hope she’s all right. Please God, please keep her well. Please.

  The reception desk at the hospital gave her the floor number, and she took the elevator to the fifth floor. The family was all there, waiting. Robert, Dad, Bobby, and the others, all desperately waiting for news.

  She saw them first, pacing in the waiting room. “What happened?” she asked her father frantically. “Is she okay? What about the baby? Oh my God . . . what about the baby?”

  He took her in his arms and said, “We don’t know yet. We’re waiting for the doctor to come out and tell us what’s going on.”

  Bobby stood next to them. “She was really lethargic as she got out of bed this morning. Then when we were having breakfast she said she was feeling tired and went back to sleep. I did the dishes and took a shower. When I came in to kiss her good-bye before I left for work, she was hotter than a coal fire. I couldn’t wake her, and then she moaned about something, half-asleep. I brought her here since it’s the nearest hospital to our house. A doctor examined her, and her obstetrician was consulted; now we’re just waiting.”

  They turned around as a white-coated doctor entered the waiting room. “Mr. Macgregor?” he said, searching the room for a response.

  “Yes, Doctor,” said Bobby.

  “I’m Dr. Sanders. Your wife is safe for the present, but we were unable to bring her temperature down, and in her current condition, it’s not a good thing. The longer her fever remains high, the worse it is for her and the baby. She’s comfortable now. We’re running more tests and will let you know more as soon as we get the results. But please wait here and be patient.”

  “Is she awake, Doctor?”

  “She is in and out of consciousness. I’m sorry I don’t have better news for you.”

  “Is there anything we can do?”

  The doctor looked at all their faces and responded, “Pray. It may be a long night.”

  “Thank you, Doctor.”

  “Hang in there,” he said as he returned to his duties.

  They huddled in a corner . . . and waited. Half an hour later, Mary Kate’s phone rang. It was Mickey.

  “Hey, girl. Great lunch. My parents loved you.” He was almost bubbly in his conversation, which was unlike him. “Let’s get together after the rehearsal dinner, and I’ll fill you in on all the changes at work, but you did real good. I am so proud of—”

  “Mickey,” she interrupted and said, “I’m at Saint John’s Hospital with the whole family. Patti has a very high fever, and it doesn’t look good. I gotta go. I’ll call you later.”

  Forty-five minutes later she saw him walk into the room, followed by his parents.

  Mickey was the first to speak. “You said the whole family was here. Once I told them what had happened, they insisted on coming.”

  His father greeted Mary Kate and said, “Well, girl, you’re now family, we’re all family here, and we stick together. We came here to support you, come hell or high water.”

  Robert and the rest of the family approached Angus. “I’m Angus Campbell, Michael’s father, and this is my wife, Claret.”

  Robert stuck out his hand and said, “I’m Robert James Macgregor. We welcome you to join us. Thanks for coming. It means a lot.” The two men locked hands, and each understood, family came first.

  They all sat and waited. The minutes turned to hours, and still no word.

  Robert stood and stretched his legs. “I’ll be back,” he said. He walked toward the elevator, and once downstairs went inside the chapel, only to
find Mary Kate and Claret there engrossed in their own prayers.

  He knelt and prayed to his higher authority, the only one who could now help Patti. Lord, protect her. She’s the soul of the family and the light of my eye. Keep her safe, but if you must take her, so be it, but if you could let us have her for just a little while longer, I would much appreciate it. Please, Lord. Tears streamed down his face. He felt someone next to him, it was Coleen. She squeezed his hands and knelt down quietly beside him. They both knew there was nothing more they could do. Bobby sat in the seat in front of Robert.

  At six p.m. the doctor returned. His face was troubled.

  “Mr. Macgregor?” he said. The two of them talked as the brothers stood by, ready to be tested by the news. The rest of those in the waiting room slowly roused to hear the report from the doctor.

  “We have the results of the ultrasound tests. It shows her fever is being caused by an abnormal ovarian cyst; however, we do not know yet at this point what kind of a cyst it is.”

  “Uncle Ryan, can you join us, please? My uncle is a physician—Dr. Ryan Macgregor—and I would like him to listen to the prognosis.”

  “I understand completely.” Ryan nodded as the doctor continued. “A cyst that contains a simple sac of fluid on ultrasound is more likely to be a benign neoplasm than a cyst with solid tissue in it.”

  Ryan asked him, “Can you tell if the cyst is solid or filled with fluid?”

  “No, not yet. We’re going to do some further tests. The ultrasound appearance also plays a role in determining the level of suspicion regarding an ovarian tumor.”

  “Tumor? Cancer?” Bobby asked, hearing the words of dread, nearly losing his balance.

  “I’m sorry; it’s just too early to tell. Ovarian cancer is rare in women under the age of forty. But after age forty, an ovarian cyst has a higher chance of being cancerous than before age forty, although most ovarian cysts are benign even after age forty. Blood testing with RUT-3, using CA-125, can be used as a marker of ovarian cancer, but it does not always represent cancer, even when it is abnormal, and it may be normal in the presence of malignancy.”