Chance of a Lifetime

by Jodi Thomas

  “Stay down!” she yelled as she jumped off him and ran to the corner of the window.

  Rick wasn’t sure he could move. “What happened?” he said far more calmly than he felt.

  “Someone tried to hit you, but they’ve vanished, and with this wind, even the tracks will be gone by the time I can get down there.”

  She rushed to the bookshelf and dug through the scattered books.

  Rick moved to the edge of his chair as she stood and carried something toward him. She held two broken pieces of metal out for him to inspect.

  He took the offering and put the pieces together. “It’s one of Martha Q’s garden statues. If you hadn’t knocked me out of the way, I might have been killed by a garden elf.” He leaned back in the chair. “If I weren’t so mad, I’d think this was funny.”

  Mrs. Biggs ran into the room and screamed at the sight of the beautiful window shattered across the floor, then looked at both of them. “Are you all right? What happened?”

  Trace took charge. “Help me find something to block up this window and then we should call the sheriff and report this. Whoever threw that statue wasn’t some kid out playing in the snow. They must have seen you in the window and meant to do you harm.”

  Mrs. Biggs shook her head. “Maybe it was an accident, or the wind.”

  No one in the room believed her, but she was still rattling off possibilities when she left.

  Trace turned to Rick. “Are you all right?”

  He lied and nodded.

  “I think I should check that shoulder wound once we get the window blocked, and it might be a good idea to pull all drapes and blinds so no one can see in. Whoever did this might be out there waiting for another chance.”

  He agreed. “We won’t have to call the sheriff. An alarm is going off at the station now. I just hope someone is there to answer it.”

  Mrs. Biggs showed up with a card table and duct tape. Before they could get it secure, a deputy from the sheriff’s department was pounding on the door.

  Rick sat watching as Deputy Gentry and Trace boarded up the window. He could feel blood running down his back, but he didn’t say a word. In the fall, more stitches must have broken open, but if she hadn’t hit him hard enough to knock him down, he might be dead or blind from shattering glass, or…

  He didn’t want to think of any more ors. This strange woman who acted like she didn’t care about him at all had just saved his life and she’d done so with far more skills than any Girl Scout had.

  When Trace finished with the window, she draped a quilt over Rick and said to the deputy, “We need to get him to the hospital.”

  Deputy Gentry didn’t argue, but Rick looked directly at her. “You coming along?”

  She shrugged. “Might as well. Unless you want me to call your mother, Matheson?”

  “No, don’t call anyone. Let’s go.” He pulled the quilt around him knowing it would be soaked with blood by the time he got to the hospital. “I’d rather have you, Adams, if you’re willing, than all my relatives out on these roads.” She wasn’t exactly Florence Nightingale, but she’d do.

  To his surprise, she circled his waist and moved with him to the side entrance where Gentry had pulled the cruiser.

  He ignored the pain and tried to smile. “You worried about me?”

  “You’re looking a little pale,” she said as she climbed in the back next to him.

  He leaned his head back as all that had just happened began to register along with the pain of bruises mounting all along his back. “In case I pass out, I want to say thanks right now.”

  “You’re welcome,” she answered. “Now be still and try not to bleed all over the seat.”

  He reached for her hand as he closed his eyes.

  Chapter 17

  MONDAY

  ON MONDAY AFTERNOON, EMILY WAS SURPRISED HOW much she looked forward to her visit with Paulette Parker. She felt as if she were turning pages in an old diary, meeting her mother as a young woman.

  When she got to the nursing home, she was told at the front desk that Paulette had been taken to Amarillo.

  As Emily turned to leave, the girl who’d made them tea last week followed her to the door.

  “She had a bad fall,” the girl whispered. “I’m sorry Mrs. Parker will miss your visit. She was really excited about it.”

  “So was I,” Emily said, reading the girl’s name tag. “Thank you, Beth, for all you did last week. The tea made our visit special.”

  “You’re welcome. You really made her happy. This morning all she could talk about was that you’d be back this afternoon. She insisted on walking around her room,” the aide whispered. “The doctor left orders not to allow it, but we didn’t see the need to restrain her.” A tear drifted down Beth’s face. “I feel like it was my fault she fell.”

  “Accidents happen. It wasn’t your fault. Paulette is a woman who lives life by her own rules.”

  “We found her just after breakfast. Her head hit the corner of the sink. It knocked her out, but most of the damage seemed be to her hip and leg. The doctor thinks the hip is broken.”

  “Does Tannon know?”

  The aide nodded. “We called him. He said he’d meet the ambulance at the hospital. Mrs. Parker was so mad he wasn’t here to go with her that the doctor had to give her something to calm her down for the ride. If she’d had ten kids, I don’t think they could do all she wants her one son to do.”

  “I brought flowers for her.” Emily held up the roses. It had taken the florist a half hour to weave brightly colored ribbons through the stems of the pale pink roses cut short to fit in a confetti-colored bowl. The effect was a Mardi Gras of color Emily thought Mrs. Parker would like. “I think I remember my mother saying Paulette had pink roses on her wedding dress.”

  “I could put them in her room, but she won’t be back tonight. Maybe not for days.”

  “No, thanks, I’ll take them home with me. I’d like her to see them fresh.”

  Emily drove home, trying to decide what to do. She didn’t know what hospital. Even if she did get to Amarillo to see Paulette, it would probably only be for a few minutes.

  Taking a day off to go see her mother’s best friend in the hospital didn’t seem so bad, she told herself, knowing that she wouldn’t do it.

  As the afternoon aged, Emily couldn’t stop thinking of the lonely old woman. Every time she passed the flowers on her bar, she wished she had some way to get them to Paulette. She needed to let her know that she was thinking of her.

  Finally, at quarter to five, she got an idea. Tannon had said he was always working. He’d probably come back to his office tonight, even if it was just to pick up paperwork and clothes. If she took the flowers to his office, maybe he could take them to Amarillo.

  Rushing, she made it to his office before the doors were locked. Though she’d seen the building before, she’d never thought about it being so big inside. The first floor was a bay of offices without walls except for the long glass one that obviously separated Tannon’s office from a dozen employees. Inside everything seemed to be made of glass or steel. Even the desks and low shelves separating the work areas were made of metal. The only color in the room came from a massive brick fireplace that dominated one wall. The brickwork was beautiful and gas flames danced over rock logs designed to look like a campfire.

  A long, polished desk stood guard at the entrance just off a simple lobby. The woman behind it looked more like a model than a receptionist. She stood as Emily walked in and smiled a perfect cold smile. “May I help you?”

  Emily moved the flowers to one arm. “Is Tannon Parker in?”

  “May I have your name, please?” Miss Perfect said.

  “Emily Tomlinson. I’m delivering these. Just tell Tannon that they are for his mother. I promised I’d visit her today.”

  The girl wrote down Emily’s words and studied her for a moment before deciding she was worth talking to. “He’s not here, but he’ll be back. He called, giving us a list of
all the files he wants packed and ready. He may be staying up at the hospital for a few days with her, but he’ll be working. Mr. Parker never stops working.”

  “How did he say his mother was?”

  The girl looked blank. “I forgot to ask.”

  While the secretary wrote, Emily saw the room in a different light. Efficient, polished, very businesslike, but cold, sterile. There were no pictures of kids on desks, no coffee mugs with sayings on them, no personal touches.

  “Will there be anything else?” The model looked like she needed to get back to work.

  Emily set the flowers and her huge purse on the polished desk. “No, I’ll leave him a note.” She pulled out a notepad, borrowed a pen, and hastily scribbled: Flowers for your mother. Hope she’s doing better. I’m here if you need me, Emily.

  It crossed her mind that the last thing might be a little too personal, but she had a feeling no one cared about Paulette, or Tannon. He was just the boss.

  As she drove back to her apartment, she thought of how different the man Tannon was from the boy she’d known. They’d been friends in the kind of way people are who grow up around each other. They’d both been shy, so sometimes in school or at parties, they found themselves together, talking in spots away from the crowd. Once they were in high school, they’d share rides to events and talk about homework over the phone.

  She’d always thought of him as her best boy friend. At least she had until “the accident,” as her mother called it. Tannon had promised to be waiting out front of the school that night. He hadn’t been there. She’d walked all the way to the back lot only to find his car locked.

  Emily closed her eyes not wanting to remember what happened next. She’d been too frightened to even scream and so hurt she felt like her insides never healed even after all the bruises and cuts did. Being quiet and an A student didn’t matter that night, for in five horrible minutes she became nothing more than a victim.

  She’d told herself for fifteen years that it wasn’t Tannon’s fault. He wasn’t the one who had assaulted her, but he hadn’t been there to help either. He hadn’t kept his promise and he’d never said he was sorry.

  On nights when the memories came back, like tonight, Emily always took a long shower until the water turned cold, then zipped into her fuzzy robe. Pulling her moments journal from the drawer, she began to read. Favorite moments. Happy moments. Tender moments. They all calmed her mind.

  When she folded the journal away, she knew she wouldn’t sleep, so she popped popcorn and curled up on the couch to watch movies.

  Halfway through the second movie, her doorbell rang.

  Emily couldn’t imagine who it could be. No one ever stopped by her place and the neighbors in the building just knocked. The widow lady across the hall even had a key to let herself in if she needed something.

  Crawling out from the clutter, she tiptoed to the speaker against the bell and pushed. “Yes?” she said.

  “Emily!” a man’s voice shouted. “Can I come up? It’s Tannon and it’s freezing out here.”

  “Oh. Of course.” She pushed the button to release the lock. By the time she’d carried her popcorn to the bar, he was knocking on her door.

  When she opened it, he walked in without being asked. “I don’t mean to bother you, but I need a favor and I’ve no one else to ask.” She didn’t miss his exhaustion in the slope of his shoulders or the nervousness in his voice.

  “All right.” She moved around him as he stood in the middle of her living room. “How can I help?” She knew that it had taken a lot for him to turn to her for help.

  For a moment he didn’t say anything. He just stared at her. “Did I wake you? I’m sorry. I saw your lights all on and thought you were up.” He dug his fingers through his dark hair and sighed as if he’d made his hundredth mistake of the day.

  “You didn’t wake me. I was watching a movie.” She added, “Would you like some popcorn?”

  He shook his head. “You got any of those ribs left over? I don’t think I’ve eaten today.”

  “No,” she answered. “But I have stew. I’ll warm some up while you tell me how your mother is and what I can do to help. I’ve been thinking about her all evening.”

  He stood on the other side of the bar and told her in detail what they’d gone through since this morning. His mother fought the doctors and nurses all the way, but they did their job. She had a break in her hip and hairline fractures just below the knee.

  Emily warmed him up two slices of corn bread and a bowl of stew while he filled in details. As he ate, she poured another serving into the pan to warm and pulled out the last of the corn bread. He pulled off his coat, sat at her tiny table, and ate what she’d planned for four days’ lunches.

  “Thanks,” he finally said when all the food was gone. “You’re a good cook.”

  “Will you take the flowers to your mom?”

  “I will, only I don’t know if they’ll let her have them. I don’t know how long it will be until she’s out of ICU. Maybe tomorrow.” He looked down at his hands. “She wanted me to stay, but the doc said I’d only get to see her for fifteen minutes every two hours and she’d just be asleep. He told me to come on home.”

  Tannon stood. “I was wondering if you’d go over to my mother’s house and pick out a few things she could use at the hospital. Maybe something she could wear once she’s allowed something other than the hospital gowns and whatever things women pack in overnight bags.” He pulled out a set of keys and handed them to her. “I don’t know what to get and whatever I bring will be the wrong thing. She likes you. She’ll like what you pick out.”

  “But you know where—”

  “If I know Mom, everything will be in order. You’ll know what to pick out. She loved the scarf you gave her. She wore it every day last week.” His smile looked sad. “I’ve got to work at the office a few hours in the morning, but I could drop by the library after and pick up whatever you choose.”

  “Sure, I’ll help,” Emily said without further protest. “You look like you could use some rest.”

  “I guess I could. The doc told me not to come see her until tomorrow afternoon. She’ll be having tests run and sleeping.” Tannon laughed. “He said I wasn’t a calming element for her. That’s an understatement.”

  After a moment, Emily asked gently, “Want to watch the end of the movie with me? It’s a comedy about two people who trade houses.”

  “Okay. It would be nice to relax. I feel like I’ve been in a dead run since five this morning.” He waited until she sat, then took the other side of the couch.

  She floated the blanket over them both and hit the play button. When she passed him the popcorn, he finished off the bowl.

  “Want a root beer?”

  “No, water is fine.” He shoved the covers her way and stood. “I’ll get it.”

  He went into her kitchen and brought back a bottle of water and a root beer as if he’d done so a hundred times. He opened hers before handing it to her, then crawled back beneath the quilt. “What’d I miss?” he asked as if he cared.

  Emily laughed. “Nothing.”

  He leaned back and stretched his legs. Within ten minutes he was sound asleep.

  She watched the rest of the movie, pretending she had company enjoying it with her. Afterward, she hated to wake him, so she covered him with the blanket and left him there.

  The next morning, she dressed and was ready to leave for work before she set foot outside her bedroom. The blanket they’d shared last night was folded on the couch. Tannon was gone.

  She drove over to the Parker home.

  Everything belonging to Mrs. Parker was in perfect order. She picked out a few comfortable robes and a sweater with pants the same color, then pulled some makeup and hand lotion from the bathroom counter. As she walked out of the room, she noticed a small framed picture of Tannon at about ten years old and decided to take it also.

  She left the suitcase in her car, thinking she’d walk out with Tannon
when he came to pick it up. But the morning passed without him dropping by. She’d almost thought he’d forgotten when he showed up with a grocery bag in his hand.

  “I brought lunch,” he said. “Have you got a place where we could eat?”

  Emily didn’t want to take him to the small break table that was crammed into the storage room, and she wasn’t sure there was enough room in her office for him to move around. No one was in the library except a homeless man pretending to read in the corner, Pamela Sue at her usual perch by the front desk, and Sam sleeping his lunch hour away in the back.

  “How about we eat in the alcove?” Emily whispered.

  “Sounds great.”

  As he followed her up the stairs, he whispered, “I called and checked on Mom. She’s resting and doing much better today. They should have more to tell me by the time I go in this afternoon.”

  Emily walked into the sunny room where the writers’ group had met a few days ago. “I’m glad she’s better.” She pulled what had been the cookie table closer to the windows while Tannon set up two chairs.

  “Perfect,” he said as he waited for her to sit. He pulled out sandwiches and added, “I didn’t know what you liked, so I told my secretary to get one of every kind the deli at the grocery store made. Ham and cheese, turkey, chicken salad—”

  “Chicken salad,” she decided as she reached for the sandwich in his hand.

  “Darn, that was the one I wanted.”

  “Oh, in that case—”

  He laughed and she realized he was teasing her.

  “In that case, Mr. Parker, you are out of luck.”

  He shrugged as if accepting defeat. “All right, but I get first choice on the chips and cookies.”

  “We’ll negotiate.” She laughed.

  He pulled out a root beer and a bottle of water as he set the bag aside. They shared the chips and cookies as they finished off their sandwiches. The window offered a great view of the old downtown still covered in snow, and the sun warmed them while they talked.

  When they finished, she put the trash in the bag and he pushed the chairs back in place. “I enjoyed this,” he said with his back to her.