Jackson perked up. He tried to raise himself, but he didn’t have the energy.
“Hey, take it easy. She’ll be in soon. And I do have to call your mother. She will be a mess when she hears this.”
“Sorry to cause all this fuss. I thought it was just my allergies.”
“They think it was a strong strain of the flu virus. You’re working so hard that you probably compromised your immune system.”
“What health book have you been reading?” Jackson joked with his father, a little embarrassed by his father’s show of concern. Emotions were to be hid and displayed only when necessary and, more importantly, in private moments.
“I know Sara wants to see you. I’ll go get her.” His father placed a hand over his and then turned away.
Jackson rested his eyes, waiting for Sara to enter. His energy had waned with his father’s visit. He hoped that he would not drift off to sleep. But he was so tired.
Sara entered the room. Jackson was still. She wanted to cry. The steady beeps of the various heart and blood pressure machines gave her small comfort. Otherwise, his pale sunken features would unravel what small self-control she had.
She approached the bed and gently took his hand. Unfortunately he’d fallen asleep, but as long as the nurses didn’t mind, she wanted to be at his side. Simply watching him sleep comforted her.
Making herself as comfortable as a hospital chair allowed, she took her position next to him. She stroked his fingers, placing small kisses on those hands she knew so well. Her tears spilled on them and she brushed them off his skin.
“Sara,” he whispered.
At first, she thought that she’d imagined the sound of her name.
“Sara,” he said, slightly louder.
She raised her head to see his eyes flicker open. She smiled, then grinned. “Oh, baby, don’t say anything.” She kissed him softly on his lips.
“I’m so glad to see you.”
“Shh. I didn’t think you were so desperate to see me.” She winked at him.
His mouth trembled, forming a weak smile. “Thank you.”
Sara started to cry again. “No, thank you.” She kissed his forehead, as he slipped back into a peaceful slumber. “I’ll be back.”
Sara left the hospital, but she was in a quandary. There was no way that she was going back home to Chicago while Jackson was still touch-and-go. She had her small duffel bag and not much else and no place to stay.
Her cell phone rang. “Yes?”
“Sara, this is Cecil. I’m sending a car to the hospital for you. I want you to stay at the house.”
“Oh, sure.” Sara hung up the phone, more than a little shocked. She didn’t know how long Cecil’s generosity would last or whether it spread to his wife. But she wouldn’t pass up free accommodations, especially since she didn’t know how long Jackson would be in the hospital.
An hour later, she entered the house that she thought she’d never visit again. The maid led her into the house away from the familiar family room to Cecil’s office. His style and personality definitely marked this room.
“Have a seat.”
Sara complied, her nervousness returned. She didn’t expect to feel as if she were on an interview.
“I want to thank you for being so persistent. And while Jackson is in the hospital, I’m hoping that I will get to know you.”
So this was like a job interview. Who knew that she had to be judged worthy of being a friend? Was this where she’d gone wrong the first time? Sara kept her theory to herself.
“My wife and I will be going to the hospital this afternoon. You’re welcome to accompany us.” He stood.
Sara followed suit. She hoped Jackson’s recovery would be on the fast track. She didn’t take orders well. The whole male dominant attitude made her want to snort.
“Vernetta will show you to your room. Eleanor is resting and will see you later. I have a few calls to make and don’t want you to feel that you have to eat in the dining room. You may eat lunch in your room, if you wish.”
“Your thoughtfulness is appreciated.” Sara meant it. She’d rather be in the private, smaller confines of the room.
Sara followed the maid up to the room. They passed several closed doors. The room chosen for her was at the far corner toward the front of the house. She looked around, wondering which one was his parents’ and, more importantly, which one was Jackson’s when he stayed here.
She entered the bedroom. The room color reminded her of a creamy blueberry with white trimmings around the window. A small spattering of a shade of raspberry accented the décor. At the window, she noted that she had the front view.
Growing up in this large house with servants and chauffeurs must have seemed quite natural, unlike her memories of home life with her mother and stepfather, where the blending of families didn’t quite work like the Brady Bunch. She had counted the time when she could escape to college. Two worlds, miles apart, and she and Jackson were attracted to each other.
Sara touched the curtains, fingered the decorations and admired the picturesque landscape paintings on the walls. At least there was a TV to keep her occupied.
The maid returned with her lunch on a tray.
“Thanks. Do you know if Eleanor is up and around?” Sara wasn’t exactly dying to see Jackson’s mother, but considering that she’d been invited to the house, she should show her appreciation in person.
“Mrs. Thomas is in her room. If you’d like to visit her, I’ll let her know.”
“No, that’s okay.” No need to rush the process since they would see each other on the way to the hospital.
Sara ate her soup, sandwich and warm apple crisp. Only crumbs remained in a matter of minutes. With only tea on the plane, she hadn’t eaten anything else.
Eating made her feel much better. She pulled out her laptop and set up a small work area at the desk in the corner of the room. Before long, she was fully engrossed in Alethea’s story as the words continued to flow.
The maid returned and instead of bothering her, she brought a fresh pot of hot water and an assortment of tea bags. Sara paused long enough to thank her profusely. If she stayed in this environment for too long, she’d be spoiled rotten.
Two hours later, she’d run out of anything further to write. She needed to think about the direction that her essay took. Taking a break at this time didn’t upset her. The time away from the work provided her with time to rejuvenate.
“Miss Sara, the Thomases are waiting for you,” the maid said through the door.
Sara hurriedly fixed her hair, straightened her clothing and grabbed her pocketbook. She went down the grand staircase, wishing that she’d heard them so that she could have been ready. As she entered the foyer, the maid said, “They are in the car.”
She hoped they hadn’t been waiting too long. Hurrying, she ran toward the car, almost stopping short at the sight of Eleanor. She certainly didn’t look herself.
She looked quiet and withdrawn.
Cecil sat in the front with the driver. He was visibly subdued. She and Eleanor were directed to the back. Sara stepped aside to allow Eleanor to enter first. She offered a weak, tired smile before sliding into the seat. Sara took her seat, wondering what she should say to Eleanor. They had separated under unpleasant circumstances. But Jackson’s illness looked like it had sucked the energy out of his mother. Sara couldn’t hold onto the anger when Eleanor appeared so weak.
Jackson’s father chatted with the driver. Sara could only see his profile occasionally when he turned to address him. Cecil didn’t seem to be able to relax. From where she sat, he appeared to be stiff and deliberate in how he thought and what he said.
Muffled sounds of sobbing startled her. Eleanor was crying into a handkerchief, trying to mute her misery. Sara acted on instinct and moved closer to the older woman. Eleanor looked up with redrimmed eyes, her fingers working at the lace trimmed handkerchief. Sara couldn’t offer supportive words, but she had a shoulder for lots of hurting folk
s. She wrapped her arm around Eleanor’s small frame and eased her head against her shoulder.
“Jackson is a fighter. He’ll be fine.” Sara believed every word she said.
By the time they reached the hospital, Eleanor had regained her composure. She didn’t look much better, but her emotions were being held in check. When they exited the car, Cecil was not the wiser of his wife’s meltdown.
On the way to his room, Sara remained respectfully behind the Thomases. Cecil and Eleanor walked together. Sara was glad to see that Cecil had his arm around his wife. Maybe his aloof personality didn’t run deep.
They navigated the long hallways, elevators and additional hallways. Sara trailed the couple to Jackson’s room. When they entered, she retreated and headed for the waiting room.
The waiting room was empty. A TV situated overhead showed network news. Sara had no interest in current news and events. Trying to be patient was proving difficult. She decided to call Denise, then each line sister, to update them about Jackson’s condition. Their comforting words made her feel good, and their loving support moved her to tears.
“Sara, would you join us?”
Sara hung up, not sure whether she told Naomi that she had to go. Jackson’s father stood in the doorway. He motioned with his head for her to follow.
She caught up with him, thinking that he would enlighten her with regard to Jackson’s current condition. He didn’t say anything. But when she stole a glance, she felt better that he didn’t look angry, just slightly worn at the edges.
“Cecil, thank you for everything and for sharing this time with me.”
Cecil nodded. “Go to him.”
Sara entered the room. “Jackson?” Sara couldn’t believe what she saw. Jackson looked so much better and sat up in the bed. His face was still gaunt, but the fluids and antibiotics had done a marvelous job on his condition.
“It’s me.” He raised his hands for her, but then they dropped at his side from the effort.
“Don’t tax your system.” She kissed his mouth with small pecks until his father cleared his throat. She blushed, remembering that Cecil and Eleanor were still in the room.
“The bad news is that you missed meeting my brother, Thadeus, and my sister, Becky, and their families. On the other hand, the good news is that the doctor says because I’m in such healthy condition, I should make a good and quick recovery.”
“It doesn’t matter, I’ll get to meet them eventually. I’ll be here until you get out of the hospital.”
Jackson eased back against the pillow with a small smile.
Sara wondered if he was feeling pain. She touched the side of his face, hoping that she could ease the tension.
“I think it’s time for me to say what has been on my mind and in my heart. Jackson lying here ill was my wake up call.” Eleanor stepped forward and took her place on the other side of the bed. She took Jackson’s hand and brought it up to her cheek before placing it back on his chest.
Out of respect, Sara moved from her position next to Jackson. She didn’t want to intrude on a private moment. Plus she was satisfied to see Jackson looking much better.
“No, child, this is not the time for you to retreat. You saved my son’s life.”
Sara’s face flushed—she was a little flustered with the emotional statement.
“You saved my life, too.” Eleanor looked at her. Sara didn’t know how to respond. “I don’t know what I’d do without him.” She looked at Jackson and her eyes swelled with tears.
His gaze was fixed on his mother’s face. “Mom, don’t cry.”
Jackson’s father stepped forward and placed his hands on his wife’s shoulders. She brushed her cheek against his hand. “No, Cecil. I’ve got to have my say. Let’s not waste any more precious time.”
“Okay,” he said, his voice tight. “I’ll be outside. I have to check on a couple things. Eleanor, let me know when you’re ready.”
“Thanks for coming, Dad.”
His father left the room.
What was going on? Sara didn’t like surprises, especially when they were family-related. Suddenly she grew nervous, dreading Eleanor’s announcement.
“Son, sometimes it takes almost losing someone to hit you over the head with what is important in life. Sarafina, give me your hand.”
Sara complied, still a little off balance by Eleanor’s change of attitude.
Even Jackson looked surprised by his mother’s actions.
“Eleanor, you don’t have to say anything.” Sara didn’t want to rely on her charity that would disappear in a matter of days when Jackson returned home.
“The first thing I have to say is sorry to both of you. Jackson, I wanted your life to be perfect as a child and even into adulthood. You were my baby. Nothing could be too good for you. Plus you made your father so proud. He saw himself in you. He went about teaching you the way he’d learned. Showing emotions was a sign of weakness. A man had the sole responsibility to take care of his family.” Eleanor opened her hand for Sara’s. “Don’t be angry with him. I told him what I wanted to say today. Of course, he didn’t agree. But I’m not going to be talked out of what I needed to say. I dismissed your feelings because I had learned to dismiss matters of my heart.”
Sara didn’t know what to say, how to respond. As much as she wanted to she didn’t know the appropriate comments.
“And thank goodness, despite my intervention, you found your way back to each other. Each time I’ve witnessed how Jackson’s face lights up when you’re around. He doesn’t have to tell me that he loves you because it radiates off his body.” She squeezed Sara’s hand. “When you walked in that day, looking so mature, I had no doubt that you loved Jackson. Son, you have stepped out beyond your father’s footsteps. Go after your dreams.” Eleanor wiped the corners of her eyes.
“Mom, don’t worry about me. I’m happy.”
“Be quiet, Jackson. You’re not happy because I said so.”
There was momentary silence before they burst into laughter. Jackson pushed his bed down a bit, already looking fatigued.
Cecil reentered the room. “Look, Jackson, I know you want to leave the company. And although your mom tries to make me understand, I still don’t want you to leave.” He exhaled and stuck his hands in his pockets, a move that was so unlike him. “And I know that you love this young lady sitting beside you. You have my blessing. I won’t stand in the way.” He shifted from foot to foot. “That’s all I had to say.” Jackson’s father left the room as abruptly as he’d entered.
“That took a lot of him,” Jackson remarked.
“Yeah, we’re quite a pair, I must admit.” Eleanor stood. “As much as we pretend, we’re not perfect. My marriage to your father was arranged by our parents right after high school. Don’t get me wrong, it wasn’t as if I didn’t have any feelings for him. But our parents manipulated every part of our relationship, from courtship to engagement to wedding. After all this time, I’ve learned to love your father.”
“Too much information, Mom.”
“No, it’s not. I want to hear,” Sara said, now understanding the impact of his mother’s message.
“I want to save what I see as a pure love between two people,” Eleanor declared.
“Well, thank you, Mom, but I don’t plan to let Sara go again.”
“Looks like both of you have my life planned for me.” Sara surveyed the two family members. “I’m not to be manipulated.”
“I wouldn’t manipulate you with words. I’m too weak to do what I’d really like to do with the right action.” Jackson grinned.
His mother gasped, putting a hand to her cheek.
Sara grinned back at her man. “Until you get better, you’d better learn to tell me.”
Jackson motioned her closer. “The only thing that I have for you is that I love you, woman.”
“You finally said it!” Sara exclaimed.
“I’ve learned a thing or two, also. I may have grown up where we keep our emotions out
of view. But I’ve listened to what my mother said. I’ve watched how difficult my father has been. I’ve seen how much I’ve hurt you.” He took a deep breath. “I look into your eyes and can shout to the rooftops that I love you.”
“And I can look into your eyes and block out the world to say I love you.” She kissed him, softly, enjoying his lips against hers. The machines beeped with increasing annoyance.
Jackson’s mother waved away the nurse, as they both eased out of the room.
Sara laid her head on Jackson’s chest, loving the sound of his heart. She couldn’t bear to lose him.
“I hope you’ll let me share your bed…in Chicago,” Jackson said.
Sara looked up into his dark, sexy eyes.
“Just try and stop me.”
“But only as my wife.”
Sara grinned. “That’s a deal I can live with.”
ISBN: 978-1-4268-1524-9
NO ONE BUT YOU
Copyright © 2008 by Michelle Monkou
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