A Wolff at Heart

by Janice Maynard

  “I can’t wait to meet her,” Nikki said, trying to imagine such a thing. “She must be an incredible woman.”

  “She definitely is. I imagine the two of you will have a lot in common.”

  * * *

  It wasn’t long until the outskirts of Richmond came into view. Pierce’s agitation was almost palpable, his hands white-knuckled on the steering wheel. The nursing home where his aunt lived was located in a pleasant community with mature trees, flower gardens and lots of middle-class houses. He parked in the visitor lot and sat stone-faced for long seconds.

  Nikki touched his shoulder. “Let’s go in. Sitting here won’t make you feel any better.”

  With a muttered curse, he got out of the car and followed her to the front door. “She’s bound to know something is up,” he said. “Over the years I’ve spent time with her on holidays at her daughter’s house, but never here. It’s been a long time since I’ve seen her.”

  “Doesn’t matter. I know she’ll be happy to have a visit from her great-nephew.”

  Inside, the atmosphere was calm and reasonably cheerful. An institution was still an institution, and the usual smells of cafeteria food and cleaning supplies mingled with a less pervasive liniment aroma. When Pierce identified himself at the front desk and asked for directions, the staff was friendly and professional.

  Fortunately, Gertrude’s room was not far away. Down one hall and around the corner. Nikki stood back as Pierce knocked quietly.

  “Come in.” The quavering voice was weak.

  Nikki made Pierce go first, despite his gentlemanly inclination to hold the door for her. She followed him in and lingered by the exit, her stomach in a knot as she watched the encounter.

  Gertrude was sitting in a wheelchair near the window, fully dressed in a pale-blue polyester pantsuit that hung on her bony frame. Snow-white hair framed a face that was more suited to a man than a woman, because of its blunt features. A large nose and snapping black eyes added up to a visage that once upon a time must have commanded respect and attention.

  Even seated, it was clear Gertrude was a tall woman. Her shoulders were bent and her gnarled hands lay loosely clasped in her lap, but her attitude was completely alert. She didn’t smile when she saw Pierce. If anything, she paled somewhat.

  “Hello, Aunt Gertrude.” Pierce bent awkwardly and gave her a hug. He waved a hand in Nikki’s direction. “This is my friend Nicola Parrish. I hope you don’t mind that I brought her along.”

  “Of course not. Hello, young woman. Are you two an item?”

  Nikki sputtered, waiting for Pierce to save her. When he did not, she shot him a dirty look. “No, ma’am. We’re just friends.”

  “With benefits, you mean? I stay up with modern jargon. Can’t keep the brain healthy if all you do is watch Jeopardy and the Wheel. I read three newspapers every day, and when I’m able, I go down to the computer lab and look up something on Google that I need to learn about.”

  Nikki decided the friends-with-benefits question was rhetorical, so she kept silent and let Pierce take over.

  He pulled up a stool and sat beside his aunt. “How are you feeling, Aunt Trudie?”

  She patted his hand, her weathered features alight with mischief. “Good days and bad. When you get to be ninety-two, just pooping is a victory.”

  Pierce’s face was priceless. Nikki worked so hard to hold back a laugh that her eyes watered.

  He tried to recover, but it was clear he was rattled. “Do you have friends here?”

  “A couple. They keep dying on me. It’s not a picnic when you outlive all your generation. Don’t know why the good Lord is still keeping me here, but as long as he is, I may as well do what I can. Had to teach a seminar last week to these old coots about STDs and HIV. You’d be shocked to know what goes on here when the lights are out.”

  Pierce, with a small grin on his face, got to his feet and looked out the window where a rose garden was hanging on to a few last blooms. “I’m glad you’re keeping busy,” he said.

  For a long moment, Nikki thought he was going to chicken out. But she should have known better. Pierce might not want to be here, but he was a strong man, a courageous one. And he had made a promise to his mother to follow this through.

  Though he might not want to admit it, somewhere deep in his gut, he was doing this for himself as well.

  He rested a hand on the glass, sighed deeply and turned around, leaning back against the windowsill. “I need to talk to you, Aunt Trudie. About something important.”

  Her smile faded, and every ounce of animation in her demeanor evaporated. “About what?” Leathery fingers clenched the armrests of her chair.

  “The night I was born.”

  Without warning, her eyes rolled back in her head and she slumped to one side in a dead faint.

  Pierce reached for her, steadying her so she didn’t tumble out of the chair. Nikki searched frantically for a call button, found it and paged a nurse. “Room seven thirteen. Come quickly. The patient has passed out.”

  The next half hour was chaotic. Medics were on the scene in minutes. After stabilizing Gertrude, they lifted her as carefully as if she was their own kin, strapped her to a gurney, wheeled her down the hall and loaded her into the waiting ambulance.

  Pierce and Nikki ran for the car and followed behind.

  At the hospital, the hours passed with agonizing slowness. Once it was determined that Gertrude would be admitted to intensive care, Pierce was tied up on the phone with the nursing home for half an hour dealing with formalities. He also had to call his mother, who was frantic because she couldn’t leave his father. Gertrude’s daughter had passed away three years earlier from complications after a hysterectomy, so Pierce’s mom was her next of kin.

  By the time he slumped into a chair in the waiting room, Nikki was worried about him. Stress had carved deep grooves between his eyebrows and at the corners of his mouth. She sat down beside him and handed him a cup of coffee. “Drink this. And tell me what you want to eat.” Breakfast had been hours ago, and they had skipped lunch entirely.

  “I’m not hungry.”

  She let that slide for the moment. Pierce hadn’t fully met her stubborn side yet. “What’s your mother going to do?”

  “Nothing now. I’m supposed to keep her updated.”

  Nikki glanced at her watch. “ICU has visitation in about five minutes and then not again until eight tonight. Do you want to sign in and see her?”

  He leaned back his head and closed his eyes, his cup resting on his chest. “What if seeing me upsets her? They said she had some kind of mini stroke.”

  “It’s not your fault. She’s ninety-two.”

  He shot to his feet, threw the cup in the trash with enough force to rock the small metal can and beat a fist on the wall. “She knows,” he said, his voice hoarse. “She knows what happened. I could see it on her face. And if she dies, I’ll never have the truth.” He clenched both fists, the cords in his neck standing out, his eyes filled with anguish. “I should be worried about my aunt, and I am, but all I can think about is that if we lose her now, I’m screwed.”

  Nikki already liked Pierce Avery. A lot. But seeing him like this tapped into something she knew a lot about. The fear. The anger. The feeling of betrayal and loss. A great wave of empathy and compassion flooded her with a need to comfort him any way she could.

  “Let’s go check in to the hotel,” she said quietly. “The hospital has your number. It doesn’t make sense to stay here right now.”

  As they walked out to the car, she stopped him. “I think I should drive. You’re in no shape to be behind the wheel.”

  He started to argue. She could see it in his eyes. But after long, taut seconds, he handed over the keys and got in opposite her. She had to pull the seat up a long way, but when she was comfortable, she lo
oked at him. “Do you know where the hotel is, or do you want me to use the GPS?”

  “I’ll direct you. It’s not far.”

  In less than fifteen minutes, they pulled into the semicircular driveway of an upscale downtown hotel. “I would have been fine with a motel near the interstate,” she said, realizing that he would insist on paying for both rooms.

  “This will be more pleasant.”

  Nikki didn’t have to lift a finger as a bellman loaded their luggage from the trunk onto a cart. Pierce tipped the man generously and took Nikki’s elbow. “Let’s go check in.”

  It was the middle of the week and several conventions were in town, but the desk clerk handed them two keys with a smile. “We tucked you both away from the crowd. If anyone disturbs you, please let us know.”

  Pierce proffered his credit card, and the deed was done. Riding up the elevator, he was silent. Aloof. Totally turned inward. Nikki ached for him. His whole world had been turned on its ear in a matter of days. It was amazing that he was still capable of functioning. She knew what stress could do to a person.

  When they got off on their floor, a different bellman was waiting for them. He took Nikki’s things into one room, and Pierce’s into the adjoining one. Another tip and then suddenly Nikki found herself standing in the hall, awkwardly wondering what her role should be in all this drama. Perhaps the most she could do for Pierce was establish normalcy for a little bit.

  She had to say his name twice to get his attention. When he looked at her, she smiled gently. “Why don’t you order room service for both of us? I’m not picky. I’ll grab a quick shower and change into jeans. Then I’ll come over in about thirty minutes, eat with you and tell you the story of my life.”

  That last bit actually seemed to snap him out of his fog. “You will?”

  She nodded. “I think it’s time.”

  * * *

  After her shower, she stood beside the bed, suitcase open wide, and surveyed her choices. She had packed one set of nice lingerie, knowing that as persuasive as Pierce was and with the powerful attraction that just wouldn’t seem to go away, there was a better-than-average chance she might choose to be intimate with him.

  Even now, she wasn’t sure. But just in case, she slipped into the pale-blue camisole and matching bikini panties. She hadn’t needed to wash her hair, so she combed it, brushed her teeth and spritzed a tiny bit of her favorite scent at her throat and wrists. The jeans she had packed were old, soft and faded. She topped them with a button-up shirt of crisp white cotton and rolled up the sleeves.

  Her toe was still a little sore. Since the hotel was plenty warm, she left her feet bare. Standing in front of the connecting door that linked the two rooms, she gnawed her bottom lip. Lots of hotels had access like this, but normally the doors stayed locked on both sides unless rooms were booked by family groups.

  Had Pierce requested this setup, or was it a happy accident?

  She unlocked her side as quietly as possible. After several minutes of dithering, she decided she didn’t have the courage to knock. Such an action indicated a level of intimacy that didn’t feel entirely comfortable to her. Her only choice was to grab her key card, go out into the hall and rap her knuckles on the outer door.

  Pierce answered immediately. “You’re right on time. The food just got here.” He was barefoot as well and had changed out of his dress slacks and shirt into comfy clothes similar to her own.

  “Something smells good.” The room had a small sitting area with a foldout sofa and a coffee table. Pierce had arranged their meal there.

  He waited for her to sit and then took the opposite end. “I thought hamburgers were a safe choice. The menu said they were Angus, so I hope they’re good.”

  An odd awkwardness had bloomed between them in the hours since breakfast. She suspected it was because he didn’t like anyone seeing him vulnerable, so he had pulled back emotionally.

  “I’m sure they’re fine.” And they were. Delicious, in fact. What wasn’t fine was the weight of all they weren’t saying. She took a swallow of water and wiped her lips. “Has the hospital called?”

  He kept eating, his attention on his food. “I called them. She’s stable.”

  “That’s good.”

  “Yeah.”

  She scooted closer and put her arm around his back. “Talk to me, Pierce. If you keep it bottled up inside you, you’ll explode.”

  He paused, burger in hand, and glared at her. “So now you’re a lawyer and a shrink?”

  The question had a definite bite. But she wouldn’t let him bait her. “I’m just a listening ear. Be mad at me if it helps, but for the moment, I’m the only backup you’ve got.”

  Eight

  Pierce abandoned his food, feeling a lick of shame. Deliberately standing up so she couldn’t touch him, he paced. He owed her an apology. Nikki had stood by him all during this long, lousy day. She’d been a rock, in fact. Calm and cool as a summer lake with no wind.

  As a sportsman, he preferred white-water rapids and the challenge of a dangerous passage. But at the moment, a becalmed sea sounded mighty appealing. He shoved his hands in his pockets and sat on the edge of the king-sized bed. “I’m sorry I snapped at you,” he said gruffly. “I have no excuse other than the fact that I don’t like feeling out of control, and this situation is kicking my ass.”

  “I appreciate the apology, but I do understand. What are you going to do?”

  He shrugged, wishing he knew. “If she gets to go home, I’ll just wait and try again. Who knows how long they’ll keep her.”

  “I hate to add to your plate, but what if she refuses to tell you anything, or says she doesn’t know?”

  Nikki’s unspoken sympathy smoothed some of the raw edges of his mood. “I don’t think she can look me in the eye and lie to me. You saw her face. That woman knows why I’m not an Avery. I don’t wish her ill, but if she is at all stable and cognizant, I am going to ask again.”

  “I don’t blame you. I would do the same.”

  In her eyes he saw something more than sympathy—he saw genuine empathy. As if she had walked this road. But that was impossible. No two families could have faced the same unbelievable revelation. A son who wasn’t a son. Even Pierce’s mother was baffled.

  He leaned back on his elbows. “You promised me a story,” he said, trying to shake off his dismal mood. Nikki looked as beautiful as ever. He couldn’t imagine what he would have done without her to help him wade through this mess.

  She crossed her legs, her bare toes with the pale-pink polish making him remember suddenly that there was more at stake than his parentage. He’d made his intentions pretty clear when it came to his needs and desires. Would Nikki reciprocate, or was he doomed to want her endlessly?

  His dinner guest eyed him sternly. “Are you okay, Pierce?”

  “Just peachy.” She didn’t like his sarcasm, he could tell.

  “There’s no sin in talking about it.”

  “No offense, Nikki, but I can handle it. Hashing it out would make things worse. Tell me your tale. I’m ready to listen.”

  She pulled her knees to her chest in a move he had come to recognize. “I grew up in a church-run children’s home.” For a brief moment, the confident woman disappeared and he caught a glimpse of bone-deep grief. But it was gone so quickly he told himself he was imagining angst where there was none.

  He sat up, hands on his knees. “I didn’t know. I’m sorry. How did your parents die?”

  “I have no idea. Actually, I’m pretty sure one or both of them was alive until I was about thirteen. Because every time I asked why I couldn’t be adopted, I was told that it wasn’t possible. When I finally became eligible, it was too late. No one wants to adopt a sullen, adolescent girl.”

  He felt as if someone had ripped up a script and told him to imp
rovise. He gazed at her, stunned. “But you went to Harvard.” It was all he could think of to say, but she didn’t call him out on his dumb statement.

  “Turns out I was freakishly smart. There was a social worker who took an interest in me and helped with scholarships and stuff.”

  “What about high school?”

  “It was a nightmare,” she said. “I was the girl with the ten-year-old hand-me-down clothes…and everyone knew who the kids were from the children’s home. It was a small town with very few secrets. I was never invited to a party, never attended a sleepover. No dances. No prom dresses. But I survived.”

  She hadn’t dressed it up, but the recitation touched him deeply. How could a woman as strong and smart and capable as Nicola Parrish have come from such modest beginnings?

  He stood and joined her on the small sofa, wanting to be near her. “Do you know anything at all about your parents?”

  “Not one damn thing.” She stopped. “Sorry. I usually can talk about this without getting angry. I guess what happened today brought a lot of it back.” Her eyes shone with tears, but not one fell. “I think the reason I became a lawyer was to have the credentials to track down my roots. But in the state of my birth, and in many other states, sealed records are sealed forever. Even if the person who requested that arrangement is deceased. Though I was never adopted, whoever placed me in the children’s home in the beginning insisted I not know the identity of my parents. I had a friend with medical issues who desperately needed info about her biological father. She actually had a name and knew the man was dead, but the state would not give her access to his medical records.”

  He stared at her, saw the beauty, the confidence, the quiet efficiency. This woman was the whole package. Yet somewhere, somehow, someone had given up the right to call her their own. “I don’t know what to say,” he said. “Are you still investigating?”