THE CURE
A MICHIGAN SWEET ROMANCE
By: Parker J. Cole
COPYRIGHT INFORMATION
Copyright © 2017 Parker J. Cole
Cover Art by Cover Design by James, GoOnWrite.com
All rights reserved.
First Edition: January 2017
This is a work of fiction. Any resemblance of characters to actual persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental. The author holds exclusive rights to this work. Unauthorized duplication is prohibited.
This book is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each reader. Thank you for respecting the hard work of the authors.
DEDICATION
To Raylee Hofacer. Without her help, this book would not have been written.
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
I think it’s amazing that people talk to each other. Even more so that people talk to me. And listen to me. And answer my questions without running for the hills.
Thank you to Dr. Anthony Munaco and Dr. Kristina Tansavatdi whose medical knowledge in pediatric surgical care and plastic surgery respectively helped to give depth to my characters. Any and all mistakes are mine alone.
To Shannon and Giles for growing up in the beautiful town of Tawas, Michigan and sharing their experiences with me.
Table of Contents
COPYRIGHT INFORMATION
Dedication
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
CHAPTER ONE
CHAPTER TWO
CHAPTER THREE
CHAPTER FOUR
CHAPTER FIVE
CHAPTER SIX
CHAPTER SEVEN
CHAPTER EIGHT
CHAPTER NINE
CHAPTER TEN
CHAPTER ELEVEN
CHAPTER TWELVE
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
EPILOGUE
WORKS BY PARKER J COLE
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
MORE WHERE THAT CAME FROM
CHAPTER ONE
Tension raked the inside of her stomach with the prongs of a pitchfork. She gritted her teeth, wheezing and hissing through the small spaces in order to keep her screams from escaping. A quick glance at the clock in the waiting room showed the time. Sixp.m. on the dot.
Eight hours since it happened.
Savannah’s back pressed ramrod straight along the back of the slippery plastic bench in the waiting room. The force of her will kept her erect. That, and the knowledge that if she moved one iota, one micron from her position, she’d unleash the storm brewing in her mind.
The click-clack of heels on the marble floor grated on her ears. She shifted her gaze upward to see a woman adorned in a floor-length luxurious black mink coat walking past. The clicking noise came from a pair of white and black polka dot heels with a white bow on the toe. Brightly colored ribbons trailed near the woman’s feet and Savannah saw a number of balloons in her hands. Metallic, gaudy things that seemed garish and out of place on a hospital floor.
“Savvy?”
Savannah jerked at the sound of her nickname. With difficulty, she turned. At the sight of her friends Tisha Gates and Connie Lakeland, a wave of relief washed over her so strong, she almost melted to the ground in a puddle.
“Oh, thank God you’re here!” she cried out and stood. Her body had been held in such a hold of rigidity, her muscles protested at the movement. Nevertheless, she ran clumsily to her friends’ outstretched arms.
“We’re here for you. Whatever you need,” Connie told her. The yellow pencil she wore habitually in her dark red hair was a wonderful, blessed sight. She smoothed Savannah’s hair away from her face.
“Thank you,” Savannah managed to choke out of a throat constricted by gratitude.
“Have you heard from your parents yet?” Tisha’s hazel eyes darkened with concern and worry.
Savannah nodded. “They’re about another hour away. The snowstorm’s making the road difficult.”
“You poor thing.” Connie hugged her again. “Dealing with all of this by yourself.”
“I prayed the entire way here,” Tisha said as she massaged Savannah’s back.
The words acted on Savannah’s frayed emotions like a soothing balm. Slowly her stomach eased of its painful clenching.
“I really appreciate it,” she croaked.
Like a child, Tisha and Connie led her back to the uncomfortable bench and sat on either side of her.
“Do you want to talk about it?” Tisha rubbed her arm in sympathy.
Savannah grabbed each of their hands and squeezed them in one of her own. She knew they referred to what happened eight hours ago. However,in her thinking, she’d have to start earlier than that. Not eight hours ago, but eighteen months ago when her world hurtled itself into a ballooning ball of catastrophe.
Just as she’d become accustomed to being a successful image consultant, her sister and brother-in-law were killed in a car accident involving a drunk driver. Thinking about the sister she wouldn’t see again this side of Heaven made her breath catch. Fiona’s quiet ivory beauty matched with Bart’s robust mahogany masculinity. Their love for each other had been the stuff of legends, surpassed only by the love for their daughter.
Liliana. Savannah’s eyes drifted shut. A precocious child, they’d celebrated her third birthday last week. Snuffy had lovely caramel skin, a thick wealth of reddish brown hair, and exotic, heavily fringed eyes the color of honey. Her youthful innocence did not negate the effect of losing her parents. It had taken many months for her niece to adjust to a new way of life. With lots of support, Savannah and Liliana eked out a new existence.
As guardian and sole provider of her niece, she’d made the difficult decision of relocating her business from the bustling city of Detroit to the quiet town of Tawas. She’d taken over Bart and Fiona’s home in order to give her niece the continuity of a normal life.
It took time to adjust to small town living, but the residents’ kindness made that easy. She’d made good friends and neighbors in the year that she had lived there. Everything hadn’t been perfect but in the last year, she’d adapted to being a mother for Liliana.
Until eight hours ago.
“The police are still not sure what happened, but a fire broke out at the daycare.” Savannah released their fingers and dragged a hand through her long, unkempt hair. “Somehow, in all the confusion, Liliana and her friend Markita got separated from the rest of the group. One of them fell or something. The other tried to help and the fire caught up to them.”
“Oh no!” Tisha gasped. Connie covered her mouth in shock.
“They both suffered second and third degree burns.”
“Savvy!” Connie clutched her tightly.
Savannah pressed her lips together to contain the wails. She needed to stay focused, if not calm. “I was at one of the high schools in Detroit, doing a presentation. I usually put my cell phone on vibrate so I can at least hear it ring but I made a mistake and turned the ringer off. I didn’t get the messages until an hour later.”
That nightmarish three-hour drive played in her mind. Fear had taunted her but she fought it back by praying every single mile that passed on the expressway.
“What did the doctor say?” Tisha leaned forward. Her dreadlocks, decorated with a multitude of minute brown beads, made a dull rattle. Savannah couldn’t suppress the thought they sounded like a rattlesnake’s warning hiss. Was it an omen?
“Savvy?” Tisha’s brow furrowed.
Savannah gave herself a mental shake to rid her mind of the morbid fancy.
Savannah’s lips trembled and she stopped talking. A scream searched for an exit. She didn’t want to give it voice.
“Ms. Woods?”
The professional, neutral tone of the doctor caught her attention. She stood and raced over to the woman, Tisha and Connie trailing behind her.
“Yes, Dr. Yamaguchi? How is she? Is she going to be all right?”
The doctor’s kind brown eyes landed on her. “So far, her condition is stable. She’s still sleeping right now. But we’re not out of the woods yet.” She extended a hand to a nearby waiting room seat. “I don’t want to unnecessarily upset you but you need to know exactly what we’re dealing with. Do you want to sit down?”
“No, please just tell me what’s going on. Can I see her?”
Dr. Yamaguchi nodded. “You can see her, but only for a few minutes. We’ll be observing her for the next thirty-six hours.”
Savannah’s legs threatened to buckle. “What do you mean?”
As the doctor detailed the extent of the damage done to Liliana’s body from the fire, she thought she might collapse. It was almost too much to bear.
God, give me strength.
When the doctor finished, Savannah asked quietly, “Can I see her now?”
“Of course.” The doctor grabbed her limp hand. “Don’t let what you see in there discourage you. Liliana’s a fighter. And you need to fight with her, too.” The woman squeezed her hand as if trying to infuse her with strength.
Leaving her friends behind, Savannah walked the path alone to Liliana’s room, trepidation tap dancing along her spine. The pristine white floors and colorful walls made the journey there seem like a psychedelic trip. Uniformed hospital staff passed her by, the figures fuzzy and nondescript to her unseeing eyes.
When she arrived at the room, the sight of her niece made Savannah almost fall to her knees. This couldn’t be her beautiful, fun-loving Snuffy. It couldn’t be.
Machines hummed next to the tiny frail body lying in the hospital bed. Snake-like plastic tubes were taped to her nose and mouth. Bandages covered a good portion of her body from her shoulder to legs. The little girl’s chest moved shallowly.
“Snuffy,” Savannah moaned, her legs so weak she barely made it to the side of the bed before crumpling in the chair the nearby nurse had pushed toward her. She wanted to reach out and touch the girl, but the doctor had warned against any contact for the next few days. She could only stare.
“Oh, dear God,” she cried out. This time, nothing held back her tears. A dam had cracked inside of her and she submitted to its torrential power. The nurse thrust a box of tissues into her hand. She spent the next while crying and sniffling, wishing this was all a dream she could wake up from.
When the outburst had run itself dry, Savannah wiped her eyes and nose for the last time and stuffed the used tissues in the garbage can by the bed.
At least she wasn’t alone. Everyone who loved Liliana would work together to help her niece get through this.
Except for one person.
Savannah jolted. Why now? Why would she suddenly start thinking about him?
Fiona and Bart would want him to know.
A strange calm came over her. Savannah couldn’t deny the truth of those words. She’d avoided a name she hadn’t uttered in voice or thought for three years. If she could have, she would have gone for the rest of her life without having to speak his name ever again.
But circumstances had gone beyond her pride. It had come to this. Just as he had predicted.
Micah Reddington.
A bevy of memories tried to break through the mental brick wall she had placed around them. She closed her eyes to suppress those tattered recollections of days gone by. Yet, snatches of them still made their way through, glowing like spots of light through the cracks. His long blonde hair often turned to gold when the sunlight cascaded over it. She recalled the flash of his smile, his teeth white and even above the cleft in his chin. Those freckles splattered across the bridge of his nose gave him a boyish look that always disarmed her in the past.
No, she didn’t want to go there. Yet, she had no choice.
Savannah pulled her phone from her pocket. She’d erased his name from her contact list but his number was embedded in her head right next to the alphabet. She typed it in, added her message, and sent it. A life-altering event, and it took less than ten seconds to execute.
She leaned her head back along the rim of the chair and accepted the inevitable. She needed the man who hated her most in the world.
***
I need you.
Micah’s chest swelled in unholy but righteous satisfaction. The latest superhero movie receded into the background. His whole world centered on his phone.
It didn’t matter there wasn’t a name associated with the number the message had come from. Those three words were distinctive as a superhero’s calling card blazoned across the sky. He knew the identity of the sender just as she’d known he would.
I need you.
He mouthed the words unnecessarily in the darkness of the theater. The taste of them reminded him of cotton candy. The moment he took a bite of the sugary sweet, it seemingly disappeared…until the granules hardened on his tongue, enriching the experience.
The screen blacked out and he hurriedly tapped the surface of it so he could feast his eyes on the message. He’d always known it would come to this – where she’d be the one crawling back to him. How he wanted that – wanted her begging and pleading for his help. Hadn’t he told her that when they parted three years ago? Micah was rarely wrong – not when it came to Savannah. He knew her so well.
On the tail end of that thought came another, and he grimaced at the irony. She knew him, too. She knew he’d come to her. In the past, all she had to do was crook her finger and he’d be there, no questions asked. He’d been a slave to her every desire. His lip curled in disgust at his overblown infatuation. What a sorry sap he’d been then.
Micah toyed with the idea of delaying a response to her but decided against it. After all, she must be desperate in order to reach out to him like this.
He pressed the reply button and texted back. Where are you?
Did she still strut down the runway in the season’s latest trends? He’d avoided perusing any of the fashion magazines or TV shows for the past three years. He didn’t need to see her going on with her life.
Saginaw.
The word stopped him. What was she doing back in Michigan? He sifted through the reasons, trying to figure it out, but no plausible scenarios came to mind. Thoroughly mystified, he nonetheless replied back.
Address?
A split second later, an address came over from her. He punched in the search for the map and saw that it was a hospital. Micah’s eyebrow arched. What was she doing in a hospital? Had she been injured? Sick?
Fledgling concern wiggled its way through the resentment and antagonism choking his thoughts. He fought to keep it tampered down, but he knew once it reared its head, there was no going back.
No matter how much he hated her, he sincerely wouldn’t wish anything awful to happen to her. He wanted her alive and well…if only to gloat over the fact that she was coming to him for his help.
I’ll be there.
Micah got up and walked out of the theater. Smells of popcorn, salted pretzels, and butter flavored oil ambushed his nose. People milled about talking, laughing, and eating. They could have been statues for all the notice he took of them. He focused on how to rearrange his schedule to be in Saginaw within the next two days.
He punched a number in his phone and greeted the wary hello on the other end. “Hello, Tabitha.”
“Dr. Reddington?” Her voice held a note of astonishment in it. “What are you doing calling me on your day off?”
“Sorry to bother you, but I need you to work your magic.”
&nbs
p; “Excuse me?”
“This is extremely short notice but is there any way you can get my schedule rearranged? I need to take a week off. I’ll call Dr. Bolton and see about him taking over for me for about a week.”
“A week? Dr. Reddington, what’s wrong?”
“An emergency’s come up I need to attend to.” He hoped a week would be long enough to…to…
He didn’t know how to finish the thought.
Tabitha had near-photographic memory and she utilized it to remind him he had several procedures and operations planned for the week ahead.
“Look, I’ll talk to Greg and ask him to take over. See about switching my consultations to a week after that. Greg can handle any follow-ups.”
“Okay, Dr. Reddington,” Tabitha sighed and he felt a prick of conscience poke him. “Sorry about this. I’ll make it up to you.”
“Oh, you will indeed, Dr. Reddington. I already have the restaurant in mind.”
Well, he could hardly argue with that now, could he?
Twelve hours later, Micah walked through the doors of the new hospital, redolent of waxed linoleum, fresh paint, and clean, sterile air. The facility’s bright cheery colors made a mockery of his dark emotions. Most of his night had been a battle to fight back the memories that threatened to swarm him like a horde of bees. It made the inevitable meeting all the tenser.
He waited along with others at the elevator and got in when it dinged. Meandering to the back, he leaned against the polished surface.
Although he hated Savannah, he couldn’t suppress the anticipation of seeing her again. The admission tightened his jaw. Was he still this gullible, still this susceptible to her?
The elevator stopped three floors before his destination and people boarded. No, he told himself. He wasn’t the man who followed her every whim and lived for her tender smile. That smile had distracted him from seeing Savannah for what she really was.
The elevator stopped again and passengers went in and out. The doors began to shut when a slender white hand blocked them. A hand with a tiny flat mole right under the nail of the ring finger.
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