by Tamie Dearen
“Maybe.” She scrunched up her nose.
“So Mom, I’m going to an art class tomorrow night.”
“Really? That sounds fun. How did you hear about it?”
“I’m going with Grace. That’s Spencer’s oldest sister.”
“So, does this mean you’re getting closer to Spencer?”
“Lay off, Mom. He’s really nice and all, but he’s a player. You told me so yourself.”
“I said that? I think what I said was there are always girls hanging around him.” She cocked her head to the side. “So what do these sisters look like?”
“Well three of them are tall—taller than me. And Grace, the oldest one is short. She only comes up to here.” She held her hand up to her chin.
“You know, it’s possible some of the girls I saw hanging around were his sisters.”
“Oh... Well Grace made a comment about him having a lot of female friends. I guess she could have been teasing, but he didn’t deny it.” She paused, pursing her lips. “Maybe I’ll find out the real truth from Grace.”
“That’s a good idea—he’s been so sweet.”
“Yes, but we’re only friends, Mom. Don’t push.”
“I’m not,” Anne said innocently. “But I’m trying to find a match for him. Remember? One of my nurses was about the right age. Tall and thin. Pretty. Maybe she’d be a good match.”
She felt a small knot in her stomach. “I don’t think he’d like to date a nurse. They wouldn’t have anything in common.”
“She said she liked doing outdoors stuff. They might have that in common.”
“Oh.” Emily was irritated. And her irritation irritated her even more. “Well, I still think he’s not interested right now.”
“We’ll see… I’m sure Connie will be helpful. And we’ll be together eight hours a day. I don’t know why you’re doubting my abilities. I have a pretty good track record.”
Steven grinned. “Let’s see... How many different women did you consider as my possible mate?”
“Okay, I didn’t do so well with you. But that’s because you kept messing with my mind.”
“That’s because I wanted to mess with more than your mind.”
Emily spoke in a pleading voice. “Could you two please remember there are innocent ears in the room?”
“You mean you don’t want to hear how I fantasized about your mom—”
“Na-na-na-na. I’m not listening. Na-na-na-na.” Emily put her fingers in her ears.
Anne giggled. “Oh. I haven’t really felt good enough to laugh in a while. But it makes me dizzy.”
With a knock at the door, their food was delivered. Steven and Emily ate at the table to keep any strong food aroma away from Anne, who managed to swallow a few bites of pasta while sitting on the couch.
“I’m going to be so out of shape by the time this is over,” complained Anne. “The doctor said I shouldn’t stress my body with exercise. When I was pregnant with y’all, I was doing all my normal exercise the whole time. I hardly slowed down at all.”
“Well, I think I shouldn’t try to do an Iron Man competition this summer. I’m already getting behind on my training.”
“But, I hate for you to miss it. If we have a baby—”
“When we have the baby,” he said. “When we have the baby, I can still do a competition next year. I’m not planning to drop the training altogether. I don’t have to do it every year, as long as I don’t slack off too much.”
“Maybe next year, Spencer could do an Iron Man competition. Y’all could maybe train together,” said Emily. She noticed her mom’s smug smile. “And my suggestion doesn’t mean anything. He’s only a friend. And you have to promise you won’t talk about me to Connie.”
“Well, of course I’m going to talk about my children to Connie. And she’ll talk about hers as well. That’s what moms do.”
“You know what I mean.”
“Yes, I do.”
“So, you promise?”
“I promise.”
At her easy capitulation, she was suspicious. “What exactly are you promising?”
“I promise I know what you mean.” Her mom’s smile was way too devious.
*****
Tuesday morning, Grace called Spencer at work, and alarms went off in his head. They communicated every day, but usually with a text or two. And she’d never called him at work before. His mind was quickly filled with images of accidents and emergencies, as he hurried to answer.
“Grace? What’s wrong?”
“Why do you think something’s wrong? Can’t a girl call her brother unless there’s a problem?”
“Not you. What’s wrong?”
“It’s just... I didn’t know if I should even bother you. But I saw these pictures of Mr. and Mrs. Gherring in the paper.”
“Oh, yeah, I heard about that yesterday. But it’s a pretty blurry picture, right? I mean, you can’t really tell for sure who they are?”
“Well, yesterday’s was like that, but today’s picture is really clear. I don’t know what she looks like, but it’s definitely Steven Gherring.”
“Today’s picture?”
“Yes, today’s picture shows them walking together. And she looks really sick, and she’s hanging onto his arm.” She paused and cleared her throat. “It looks like they’re coming off a hiking trail.”
Spencer’s stomach was instantly in knots. “Did she have on a pink tank top? And was his shirt white?”
“Yep.”
“And what does the story say?”
“It’s something awful about her having some mystery ailment the doctors can’t cure. They talk about her body wasting away and so forth. It even says something about Gherring getting back on the Most Eligible Bachelors list.”
Before he could stop himself, a curse slipped from his mouth.
“Spencer! Watch your mouth. Anyway, it’s only a tabloid story.”
“You don’t understand how Mrs. Gherring is about this stuff. She gets mortified. Mr. Gherring’s going to be furious. Does it look like they’re walking toward the parking area?”
“Yes, definitely. You can even see the hood of a car. Why?”
“The four of us were the only ones in the parking area when we were waiting for the Gherrings to come off the trail. It had to be one of the girls.”
“Your friends you brought along from the hiking club? One of them took the picture?” asked Grace. “Oh, shoot!”
“I know.”
Spencer stared at the picture on the front page of NYC Word. It was clearly the Gherrings, and Mrs. Gherring looked as sick as his sister had described her. The story was worse than he’d imagined—supposed reports of eyewitnesses who’d seen her pass out, a quote from a doctor who proposed likely diagnoses. He berated himself for agreeing to take Becca and Candace on the hike. Now, he was responsible for this fiasco. He could lose his job. But more importantly, he could lose Emily. He was hoping to someday be more than friends, but now he might even lose her friendship.
He had to find out who’d taken the picture. It must have been Candace. She’d seemed all too interested in Mrs. Gherring’s health, and she’d told him about the other picture and story in the NYC Word. Sigh. He’d call Becca first.
“Hi Spencer. What’s up? Are you going on the overnight hike this weekend?”
“No, I can’t. But that’s not why I called.”
“Why did you call?”
“There was a picture in a tabloid today. A picture of the Gherring’s coming off the hiking trail. Does that sound familiar?”
“No. What are you saying?”
“I’m saying either you or Candace took that picture and gave it to the tabloid.”
“I didn’t do it!” Her voice was indignant. “I would never do something like that. I don’t think Candace would either. How do you know someone else didn’t take the picture?”
“There was no one else in the parking lot, and the picture was taken from right behind where I was standing
. I’m pretty sure it was Candace, but I thought I’d call you first. This is really bad. It was an awful thing to do to them, and I could lose my job over it.”
“Oh... I just can’t believe Candace would do something like that. I thought I knew her pretty well. I’m really sorry, Spencer. I hope it won’t affect things between us. If I find out she really did it, I won’t be her friend any more.”
He cringed. Did she really think there was something between them? “It’s okay, Becca. The damage has been done now.”
“S-sorry. D-do you want me to talk to her?” Great—now she was crying. He was going to swear off women altogether.
“No. I’m calling her right now.”
“You have her phone number? I didn’t know you were friends.”
“She called me yesterday, so I have it. We’re not friends, especially not now. Becca, I need to go.”
“Okay. Bye Spencer. Will I see you this weekend?”
“I really don’t know, Becca.” He disconnected the call. Was this his fault, too? Had he done something to make her believe they had a real relationship beyond friendship?
He called Candace’s number. No answer. He tried again, and left a message.
“Candace, this is Spencer. We need to talk. Please call me.” Then he sent her a text asking her to call him ASAP.
He checked the time. He’d used up his entire lunch break. Not that he was hungry anyway—his stomach was lurching. He knew what he had to do. He had to be the bearer of bad news to Steven Gherring. He folded the newspaper to hide the picture and walked back to the office building. To the elevator. To Gherring’s office. Blood was pounding in his head, and his vision was blurry. He felt very much as though he were walking the plank. He raised his fist and knocked on the imposing carved wooden door.
Chapter Six
Spencer thought he heard a voice inviting him to enter, but his blood was pounding inside his ears so loudly, he couldn’t be certain. Tentatively, he opened the door and peered inside. Steven Gherring was sitting at his desk, simultaneously eating his lunch and reading something on his computer. He glanced up as Spencer entered.
“Hi, Spencer. What brings you here? By the way, thanks again for helping us get set up at home with your mother. Anne would’ve gone crazy if she’d had to stay in the hospital another day. What am I saying? I would’ve gone crazy.”
He fought the sudden desire to retreat back out the door. How was he going to break the news? What would Gherring say? What would he do? Would he realize Spencer had no prior knowledge of the picture? Surely he wouldn’t think Spencer was implicit. It didn’t matter. It was still his fault. He was the one who’d brought Candace on the hike. Ultimately, it was his responsibility.
“Spencer? Is something wrong?”
“I... Yes...” He moved stiffly to Gherring’s desk and placed the offensive paper in front of him. “I’m so sorry... I promise I had no idea.”
Gherring stared at the tabloid picture, his jaw flexing. His hands clenched into fists. He grabbed the paper and read the article, cursing under his breath. He wadded up the paper and threw it across the room and let his face fall into his hands, supporting his head with his elbows on the desk.
“It’s my fault. I should never have let them come with us. I take total responsibility—”
“Who was it? Becca or Candace?” He spoke between his fingers.
“Candace. I’m almost positive. I tried to call her, but—”
“Does Emily know?” Gherring looked up.
“I don’t think so.”
“It’ll make the six o’clock local news.”
“Surely not. It’s only a tabloid.” Spencer’s words were raspy, his throat dry.
“A television reporter called me and asked for a statement. I refused, because I thought it was based on the first picture. But now...”
“What can you do? Can you sue them?”
“I’m a public figure. I can’t sue them. Medical professionals are bound by HIPA. But I can’t sue somebody for taking a picture of me in public, even though I was generous enough to drive her to and from the hike in my vehicle. And even if I could sue Candace, what would I get from that? And the tabloids know what they can say and get away with it.”
“I’m so sorry.”
Gherring shook his head. “We were the ones who decided to go on a hike. I never really thought it was a good idea, but Anne can talk me into almost anything. I just wish we’d never gone. Don’t torture yourself. It wasn’t your fault. But I swear if I ever see Candace again, I might break her neck.”
He shivered at the fierce expression on Gherring’s face. “What are you going to do?”
“I’ve got to talk to Anne, and then I’ve got to do some damage control.”
When he left Gherring alone in his office, he heard loud cursing and banging through the heavy wooden doors. He was lucky not to be on the receiving end of Gherring’s anger.
*****
Anne was feeling pretty chipper for someone attached to an IV pole. She’d only thrown up once, and she’d managed to keep down an entire piece of toast. She was due to go back to the doctor tomorrow, and she hoped her lab report would be good. At least with the IV, she was well hydrated and her dizziness had eased.
She’d asked Connie all about her family, and was entertained all morning with tales of raising five children in a small New York City apartment. Connie’s husband, Joe, was a high school math teacher. They’d met in junior high and fallen in love. But their teen relationship had been stormy, with lots of breakups and fighting and jealousy. They’d broken up for good by their senior year. Then shortly after Connie had been licensed as an LVN and started work at a hospital, Joe broke his leg. He spotted Connie in the hospital hallway and chased her down in a wheelchair to ask her out. They got married a year later and had just celebrated their twenty-eighth anniversary.
“We enjoyed meeting Emily at dinner Sunday night. She must be very bright to already have her CPA license at such a young age.
“She’s smart, but she’s not great with relationships.”
“Because she’s shy?”
“Yes, she’s shy and cautious… afraid to lose control. I think it all goes back to losing her dad when she was eight. She was the big sister, you know. She tried to be strong for Charlotte. It broke my heart to see that little girl trying to be so grown up.”
“She told us she lost her grandparents, too.”
“Interesting. She doesn’t usually talk about it. She must feel really comfortable with your family.”
“She does seem a little timid.”
“Yes, we had a really rough few years after that. But Emily changed. She’d always been a good kid. But after the accident, she was—I don’t know—driven. Driven to be perfect. She studied. She obeyed. She danced ballet. She made good grades. She excelled. But she never played or relaxed.”
“She didn’t do anything for fun?”
“Well, I think her only escape was reading. Even ballet was something to be conquered with discipline. But she loved reading. That and painting. But she always painted for herself, not for competition or to show anyone.” Anne pursed her lips. “That’s why I was really surprised she agreed to go to an art class with Grace.”
Connie chuckled. “Grace is a force to be reckoned with. She could probably talk an ostrich into flying. Everyone seems to do exactly what she wants.”
“Well in that case, I’m glad they met. Emily’s the type who’d work and read and never get out and do anything. I think this class could be really good for her.”
Her cell phone rang, and Connie left the room to give her privacy.
“Hi, Sweetie. I’m feeling better. I bet I’ve gained a pound.”
“Really? What have you eaten? I mean, what stayed eaten?”
“A piece of toast.”
“Well if you gained a pound from that, it must have been some really heavy bread.”
“Okay, maybe I haven’t gained a pound yet, but I feel like I’ll
be able to.”
“I’m glad you’re better.” His voice became serious. “I need to talk to you about something. Okay?”
Her heart began to beat rapidly. She could tell from his tone something was wrong. “What is it? Is Emily okay? Did something happen? Is it work?”
“Calm down—Emily’s fine. There’s no emergency. But there’s been a development, a kink in our plans to hide the pregnancy. I think we may have to go public sooner than we thought. I don’t think we can wait until you’re showing.”
“Why? Did someone slip and say something?”
“No… I’m so sorry, Anne. You know you’re more important to me than anything. Right? I’d give up all my money, Gherring Inc., everything for you. In a heartbeat.”
“What are you saying?”
“I’m so angry I couldn’t protect you—that my money and my position put you in the public eye. And I’m so frustrated I don’t have the power to shield you.”
“Shield me from what?”
“From people. From the press.” He groaned. “Someone took a picture of us, and it’s obvious you aren’t well in the photo. And the story is speculative and nasty.”
“It’s... It’s in the paper?” She couldn’t help the tears that came to her eyes.
“Yes, only a tabloid. But... But someone called me about it, asking questions. A television reporter.”
She tried to respond, but she couldn’t think of anything to say. She let the tears roll down her face.
“Anne? Are you there?”
“Y-yes. I’m h-here.”
“Sweetheart, I’m so sorry. If you want, we’ll fly to South America and hide out until the baby comes.”
She didn’t say anything. They both knew that scenario couldn’t happen.
“Y-you tell them th-the truth. T-tell them the whole st-story. You make something g-good come out of th-this.”
“What do you mean? What good can possibly come out of this?”
“My problem. M-my condition is r-rare. But I’m not the only one. And th-the other women. People don’t underst-stand it. Th-they think it’s only morning sickness. A-and those other women don’t have the m-money for a private nurse.”