A tall, rangy man in green livery joined the ensemble. Several others fell back to give him access to Marlene. He assessed the scene quickly.
“Doesn’t seem like there’s that much left for us to do,” he said kindly, smiling at Marlene and her son. He tugged on the ends of the stethoscope that he wore carelessly thrown over the back of his neck. His eyes, so small behind the rimless glasses, shifted to Sullivan. “You the father?”
Sullivan shook his head. “No, I’m just the uncle.” He looked at Marlene. She smiled weakly in response. What had happened in the elevator had forever bonded them, whether they liked it or not, far more than the blood that flowed through the infant’s veins.
The doctor shrugged, taking the response in stride. “Are you able to give the admitting desk some information on her?”
Sullivan nodded. He had no idea what sort of insurance she had, though he assumed she could pay her way. If she couldn’t, he would cover the bill. That was his nephew she held in her arms. Derek’s son. The words throbbed in his temples.
“I can get them started.” He eased his hand from Marlene’s and saw the question in her eyes. “I’ll be back,” he promised.
Two orderlies continued down the hall with the cot, pushing it toward the elevator. Sullivan heard a tiny cry from the baby. He smiled to himself as he was led off by the receptionist to the admitting desk.
The session with the admission’s clerk went far smoother than he had anticipated. Within fifteen minutes Sullivan was free to find a pay phone and call his father. Osborne answered.
“How is he tonight, Osborne?”
Sullivan shifted, uncomfortable within his confinement. Five old-fashioned booths were lined up in a row, each with a door for added privacy. But they weren’t much for space. He felt cramped.
“He’s complaining that everything hurts. It’s to be expected with the rain.”
Even when he was being friendly, Osborne sounded formal, Sullivan thought. “Put him on. I’ve got something that might make him feel a lot better.”
“Very good, sir.” There was a pause as Osborne handed the telephone to the senior Travis.
“’Bout time you got back to me. What are you doing out on a night like this?” his father demanded as soon as he took the receiver.
Sullivan was accustomed to the rough greeting. Social amenities were for associates and business dealings, not him. He knew that beneath the tone, his father was worried about his safety. Now more than ever since Derek was gone.
“Delivering your grandson.”
There was no response on the other end. Then, in a subdued voice that was choked equally with disbelief and emotion, Oliver asked, “What did you say?”
“Your grandson arrived early.” Sullivan couldn’t help wondering if their scene in his office had brought her labor on early. He supposed he would never know. “In a stuck elevator in our building. She went into labor and I had to deliver the baby.” He still had trouble believing that it had all happened. Sullivan scrubbed a hand over his face and managed to hit his elbow against the folding door. “Now I know why I didn’t become a doctor the way mother wanted. I was never so terrified in my life—”
Oliver cut Sullivan’s narrative short. “But he’s all right, isn’t he? The boy, he’s all right?”
His father sounded anxious. “He’s fine, Dad. The paramedics arrived and got us out of the elevator. I’m calling from the hospital.” Shifting again, he opened the door to let some air in. The booth was getting stuffy. “Marlene’s fine, too.”
“Who?”
In typical fashion, his father disregarded what he felt didn’t concern him. “Your grandson’s mother. Marlene Bailey.”
“Oh.” That information was tossed away as soon as it registered. She wasn’t important in the scheme of things. Only the baby was. A boy. He had a grandson. Damn, but there were times life could still be sweet. “Make sure he has the best.”
Sullivan laughed. “They don’t have private rooms for infants, Dad. He’ll be in the nursery with all the other newborns.”
His father snorted. “Well, pay for it.”
Sullivan knew that it was pointless to argue. “Sure, Dad.”
Oliver felt younger than he had in years. Heaven had handed him another chance. “Stop by later, Sullivan. I’ll wait up. We’ll have some cognac and toast the new generation.”
He was tired and wanted to beg off, but decided that perhaps his father needed this little ritual. They didn’t share much these days. Since the stroke, his father rarely got out. If he needed company, he summoned it to him.
“Sure, soon as I can. I’ve got to go, Dad. There are other people waiting to use the phone,” he lied. Sullivan broke the connection.
By all accounts, it had been a long night. Sullivan knew he should be leaving. He’d done everything he’d been called on to do. And more.
But as he picked up the telephone receiver again to call for a taxi, Sullivan changed his mind. He decided to hang around just a little while longer. Just until Marlene was settled into her room. Maybe he would even stop by to see his nephew after he was cleaned up, processed, bundled in a sleeper and placed into a glass bassinet.
The storm was beginning to subside somewhat as he passed the window by the fifth floor waiting area. Automatic doors slid open, admitting him to the section of the floor reserved for the nursery.
He stopped before the nursery window. There was a sea of tiny bodies before him. It seemed like an incredible amount of humanity to be crammed in such a small space. Sullivan surveyed the long rows filled with newborn infants, their identities neatly entered on pink or blue cards and mounted at the foot of their tiny cubicles.
Sullivan leaned his shoulder against the wall next to the window, watching as nurses milled about, tending to the occupants. As he watched, a large-bosomed, maternal-looking nurse lifted a squawking baby and held him against her, rocking and cooing something that the glass wouldn’t allow to be heard.
A nurse who looked as if she were barely out of high school brought in Marlene’s son and gently placed him into his bassinet.
Sullivan studied the infant now that he was all washed and dried off. He cleaned up well, Sullivan mused. With his startling shock of black hair, Robert Travis Bailey looked more like him, Sullivan mused, than his blond mother.
His mouth curved, but the smile was a sad one. See what you could have had, Derek? If you’d only stuck around, you idiot, you could have been standing here instead of me.
Sullivan sincerely doubted that he would ever have children of his own. The world was too rocky and uncertain a place to willingly thrust a child into it. But if he were to have one, he would imagine that the baby would look exactly like the one he’d held in his arms.
The one who now lay sleeping, butt end up, in the bassinet.
He stood and looked at him for a long time.
Sullivan straightened. It was really getting late. He would just look in on Marlene and then leave. He still had his father to see, and he needed to get some sleep before he dropped where he stood.
The corridor was quiet as he made his way down to room 526, where the woman at the admission’s desk told him Marlene had been assigned. It was positioned directly opposite the nurse’s station. Always a good thing, he mused. Maybe she would get faster service.
He cracked the door open as silently as he could, afraid of waking Marlene if she was asleep. She was. Her eyes were closed. Very carefully, he began to back out.
“Come in.” Her voice sounded groggy as it floated to him.
Sullivan slipped back into the room, letting the door close behind him. “I thought you were asleep.”
She smiled at him, or thought she did. It was hard to tell what was real and what was simply in her mind right now. The doctor had given her something for pain, and she was floating in and out.
“Almost. After all the excitement, I’ll probably sleep for a week.” She took a breath, pushing back the exhaustion for just a little longer. “Bu
t I was hoping you’d come by.” She would have lifted her hand to his if she’d had the strength. “I wanted to thank you for helping.”
He shrugged. She looked as if she were only eighteen, lying there with her hair pulled back from her face. She’d probably been a sweet kid, he mused. Someone he might have wanted to get to know, before life had become so complicated.
“It seemed only fair, seeing as how I probably made you go into early labor. Besides, I didn’t do that much. It was more of a spectator event for me. You did all the work.”
It had felt that way at the time, but now she knew differently. “Maybe, but you helped calm me down.”
The smile deepened on his lips and filtered into his eyes. “You were calm?”
He was teasing her. It felt nice, she thought, as sleep hovered an inch away. Teasing was nice. “Considering what was happening, I was very calm.”
He brushed back the single strand of hair that had fallen on her forehead. His fingertips gently skimmed her skin.
“Then I’d hate to see you excited.” Or maybe I would, he added silently. “I’d better let you get some sleep.” He began to retreat.
It was an effort to push the words from her mouth. “I came to give you hell, you know.”
Sullivan stopped and slowly turned around. Whatever they’d given her had made her forget that she had done just that.
She could barely see him. Her eyes kept insisting on shutting. “But under the circumstances, I think maybe I’ll give you another chance.”
He bent over her. Her voice was fading away like a vapor. Maybe, being half asleep, truer answers would emerge. “Why?”
She forced her eyes open. He was so close, she thought. So very close. And he smelled so good. She realized that her mind was drifting. “I don’t know. I guess I feel sorry for small puppies and fools.”
“I take it I don’t fit into the small puppies category.” Because it seemed right, Sullivan kissed her on the forehead. “Get some sleep.”
But she already was.
The very first thing Marlene saw when she opened her eyes late the next afternoon were the yellow roses. The next thing she saw was Sullivan, looking vaguely uncomfortable, as if flowers weren’t something that he was accustomed to holding.
She didn’t even remember dozing off after the nurse had taken the baby back to the nursery, but she must have. Breast feeding had been a disaster, and Marlene had felt hopelessly incompetent. She didn’t think, after her father’s death, that she would ever experience the sensation to such a degree again, but she had. Depression had claimed her as much as sleep.
A faint noise had roused her, like a door opening and closing. A noise and the warm, sensual fragrance of roses had seeped into her senses.
Marlene dug her fists into the mattress, raising herself into a sitting position. She looked questioningly from the bouquet to Sullivan. Last night seemed like a dream now.
“Roses?”
Sullivan curved his fingers around the white vase. There was a festive bright yellow bow just above them. He wasn’t in the habit of bringing roses to anyone.
But bringing her flowers had somehow seemed appropriate. Now, he wasn’t so sure. He felt vaguely guilty because bringing her flowers inadvertently was in keeping with his father’s plans. “Win her over any way you can,” he had said over the snifter of cognac. Ordered, really, though the words had been softly spoken. But Sullivan wasn’t doing it to win her over, that would be later. He was here, bearing flowers, because he wanted to be.
“I thought that since this was my first delivery, the occasion dictated something special.”
He looked around the room. Obviously, others had thought the same thing. There were baskets and vases of flowers sitting on every available surface in the room. Word had spread quickly.
“Maybe not so special,” he amended casually. “Seems everyone else beat me to the punch. It looks like you’ve single-handedly sent the florist trade up fifteen points on the stock exchange.” There was absolutely no place to set the vase down. Feeling a little foolish, he nodded at the vase. “Maybe I’ll just take these over to the nurses’ station. They’ll find someone who might—”
Marlene shook her head. “No, not my flowers.”
She flushed, knowing how possessive that must have sounded to him. Or how spoiled. But she wanted these flowers. Much more than she wanted the others.
“There.” She pointed toward a spot on the small bookcase against the wall that was closest to her. “You can put them over there.”
It was already occupied by a basket filled with a profusion of birds of paradise and some flower Sullivan couldn’t even begin to recognize. He’d never seen anything so gaudy looking in his life.
“That spot’s taken.”
“Those flowers are from the head of Montgomery Shoes. They’ve never had much taste.” Wanda had gotten the word out this morning, right after Marlene had called her and Sally from the hospital. Flowers had begun arriving an hour later.
Marlene indicated the space near the sink. “You can move them to the floor. I want to be able to see the roses when I open my eyes.” She realized how that must have sounded to him and hurried to add, “Yellow’s my favorite color.”
He knew that. The detective he had hired had been very thorough. He knew almost everything about her. And yet, somehow, as he looked at her, it didn’t seem like enough. It didn’t seem as if he knew anything at all about her.
Picking up the grotesque arrangement from the shelf, Sullivan laid the basket on the floor and then placed the vase he’d brought in its spot.
He turned to look at Marlene. She had a great deal more color in her face than she’d had last night. But there was something in her eyes he couldn’t quite decipher.
He leaned a hip against the foot of the bed and crossed his arms before him, studying her. There was obviously something on her mind. His father’s mandate rang in his ears. Perhaps he could get her to talk to him again.
“So, how are you feeling this morning?”
She always gave a stock answer to that question, believing that people really didn’t want to know when they asked. Feeling that way, she had no idea how the truth rose to her lips.
“Incompetent.”
That was an odd answer. He’d expected her to say “fine” or “tired” or something that fell in between. His mouth quirked as he reminded himself that the lady was all business.
“Why? The hospital doesn’t want you to handle their ad campaign?”
She shook her head, already regretting the slip of tongue. “It’s personal.”
Yes, he could see that it was. Something was wrong. His voice softened as he sat down on the edge of her bed. “I think that last night you and I became as personal as a man and woman can ever get. Now, what’s the matter, Marlene? Maybe I can help.”
The offer temporarily melted the dissatisfied feeling she was harboring. She laughed at the image it evoked. “I doubt it. Unless you’ve ever nursed a baby.”
“Oh.” Sullivan paused. He was way out of his element here. “I think you’d better talk to your doctor.”
She laughed again as she nodded. “Good idea.”
Years seemed to melt away from her when she laughed. She looked eighteen again, just as she had last night. For a moment, he was tempted to lay his hand over hers, but then refrained. He’d already overstepped the boundaries he had set for himself. Getting emotionally involved was never part of the deal.
“About the only thing I can tell you is that everything new takes time. If something isn’t working out,” he said nebulously, “give it a chance. It just might.”
He was right, of course. That still didn’t erase the inadequate feeling she had, but he was right. Maybe she was just being too anxious.
Marlene ran a hand over her hair, wishing she’d had a few minutes to fix herself up before Sullivan had arrived. It wasn’t him so much, she told herself, as her just wanting to appear at her professional best. Appearances were very im
portant to her. People always judged what was on the outside first before they bothered to take stock of what was within.
If they bothered doing that at all.
She would have killed for some lipstick. Nicole had promised to bring her overnight bag and a few dozen necessities of life when she came to see her today. But as of yet, she hadn’t arrived.
“Thanks, I’ll keep that in mind,” she murmured.
There was a quick rap on the door a second before it opened. Sullivan turned a moment before the petite, dark-haired woman entered. She looked even more pregnant than Marlene had last night. Maybe they traveled in pairs, he mused. Sullivan stepped aside. Carefully, he edged toward the window.
Marlene had a good view of the harbor from her room, he thought. The choppy sea beyond was empty. They were between storms, but the darkened sky dictated that all the boats be moored at the dock for the day.
Marlene brightened as she saw her sister. “Sullivan, this is my sister, Nicole Logan. Nic, this is Sullivan Travis.”
Nicole’s eyes opened wide as she shook his hand. So this was Sullivan. Marlene had given her all the details of the harrowing experience. “Thanks for taking care of my big sister.”
He nodded. “There wasn’t much else I could do under the circumstances.”
Well, at least he wasn’t conceited, Nicole thought, then turned her attention to Marlene. “My God, for a woman who’s been through hell, you look terrific.”
She took Marlene’s hand in hers as she searched her face for telltale signs, something that could unlock the mystery of what still lay ahead for her. Something no textbook or video could really prepare her for.
“So, how was it?” The question, despite her efforts, came out breathlessly as Nicole braced herself for the answer.
How was it? Excruciating, terrifying, like falling into a well without a bottom. Like being a giant wishbone caught in a celestial tug-of-war. Marlene’s mind sorted through the pain, the panic and the fear as she looked at her sister’s tense face. She debated what to say. At the very least, odds were that Nicole wasn’t going to be having her experience in an elevator that was stuck between floors.
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