Soldier's Homecoming (9781460341308)

by Glaz, Linda S.

  So what? She’d have to live with her folks a little longer.

  The room closed in. The white drapes, white blanket, white metal bed all mocked her. Purity, freshness, no blemishes. Not like her. Only one thing stood out. She stared at the wheelchair the orderly had left in the corner of her room.

  This time, she choked back tears. If a wheelchair was the result of all this, she’d be living with her parents the rest of her life, or what there was of it. Lord, please grant me some peace. I’m so afraid. If only…if only I knew what was going to happen. I’ve never felt this way before, Lord. Afraid, and I don’t want to be a burden to anyone. Please let this Dr. Gross be the one to do Your good work. But if that good work is incomplete in any way, give me the strength to accept the outcome. She eyed the chair again across the room.

  Even if it means my worst fear.

  *

  Joe heaved a sigh. Art was worried. So was he. With a glance at the itemized statement Admissions had given him, his gut clenched. Not the kind of news he wanted to tell Art about. Not after what Art had divulged this morning. Once they had a handle on what Dr. Gross might do, he’d have another quote for the poor man. Couldn’t be good, but financial arrangements would have to be made no doubt. That Mapes woman meant business. He understood it was her job. But did she have to be so good at it?

  He folded the statement and put it in his coat pocket. Hopefully he’d be welcome when he arrived at room 214. They had told him earlier at Admissions that she would be going through some lengthy tests, so he needn’t go up until after lunch.

  After grabbing a coffee and a sad excuse for a sandwich, Joe headed up the stairs. The smells of the hospital soured his stomach. Antiseptic. Body odors. Chemicals of what nature he couldn’t guess. The stairs even had a faint odor that let him know someone hadn’t stopped in the restroom first. Bile rose and he swallowed hard to force it down along with the worst of his memories. The smells reminded him of the war, and memories of the deaths of his best friends, twins Jimmy and John Drake, grabbed him around the throat.

  Joe’s hand sought the stairway wall. He waited while his lunch settled and he forced the memories from him. He’d thought those recollections had been firmly shoved away where he didn’t have to dwell on them anymore. Apparently not.

  Now he remembered why he hated hospitals.

  Chapter 11

  After a full day and night of tests and now this disgusting lunch of tuna melt and warm milk, Victoria spent a few minutes placing a call to her parents to check on her mother. Anything to keep her mind away from what she would be facing shortly. The nurse had told her that Dr. Gross was coming in from Children’s Hospital after his lunch hour, so she didn’t have much time.

  “Well, thank you for taking the call, Mrs. Evans. I just wanted to be sure Mom is all right.”

  “Fine, dear, fine. Dr. Cleewell has prescribed pain medication, so your mother is mostly sleeping. I’ll let her know you called. And you take care of yourself.”

  Take care of herself? How was she supposed to do that?

  She took her time returning to her room. At least the staff didn’t rush to her side to force her into that stinking wheelchair. They had used it to transport her all over the hospital the day before when she’d endured one test after another. Now not having to sit in it helped her to feel a bit more in charge.

  Yesterday had been hopeless. Prodding and pushing from an array of doctors and nurses all morning with no sign of Joe. Then when he did arrive, she’d been so tired and cross that not even his smile had broken through her unwelcome veneer. He’d left almost immediately with the excuse he probably had paperwork to fill out at his hotel. Paperwork? Sad excuse for I’ve got to get out of here and fast. As cross as she’d been, how could she blame him?

  Now, looking out the window across from the nurses’ station, she drew in a breath as a cardinal flew by. He stopped for a minute on the edge. He looked in, cocked his head and flew off in search of who knew what. Probably some female cardinal. That brought a tilt to her lips and sunshine to her day.

  “That’s quite the smile. I haven’t seen you smile in days.”

  Drawn toward the familiar voice, and for no apparent reason, she didn’t feel her usual irksome self. “That bird. Came right up to the window and peeked in at me. He was beautiful.” So was Joe if she had to be honest. Beautiful, handsome, gorgeous, whatever she should a call a guy with searching eyes and lips that she longed to feel against hers. There had been two times when she imagined he wanted to kiss her. Why did she fight that temptation?

  That’s right…the fairness issue.

  “He must not be afraid of people.” He drew closer. “Are you afraid of people, Victoria?”

  “Of course not.”

  “Of me?”

  Without warning, he was getting too close to the truth. “Whatever do you mean? I’m not afraid of you.”

  “No?” He took another step toward her and she backed up, smacked into the window frame. “Then why do you keep pulling away from me? Every time I get close, those eyes of yours sprout hands and they push me far away. Why?”

  Was that a smirk on his face? How dare he? She could back away all she wanted and what was it to him? With nowhere left to go, she dropped her gaze, nibbled her lip and forced the betraying thoughts from her head. “You have quite an imagination, I’m sure. No one’s pushing you anywhere, Joseph.”

  “Joseph now, is it, Miss Banks?”

  “Oh, stop the foolishness, Joe. I need to go back to my room.” But he continued to press in toward her, not even considering the nurse standing a few feet away.

  As he inched closer, Victoria’s heart took on the noise of a symphony, the drums rattling in her chest. He searched her face. “Are you all right? You’re pale all of a sudden.”

  And you’re teasing me. Stop it. I can’t take this anymore. Had she said that out loud? Go away…go… Her legs wobbled and then the black spots again.

  *

  “We need help!” While Joe shouted over his shoulder, he didn’t wait for anyone else. He snatched Victoria into his arms, searched the numbers on the wall and dove for her room, just steps away. He placed her on the first bed as he entered.

  Some kind of bell rattled near the nurses’ station and after stuffing a pillow under Victoria’s head, he stepped to the doorway. “In here. She fainted.”

  A nurse dashed to his side, her white hat nearly fluttering from her head. She grabbed it and said, “Sir, you’ll have to step out.” She pushed at him and drew a heavy curtain around the bed. As he backed out of the room, two other nurses and what looked like a doctor sprinted in, all of them talking at once:

  “What happened?”

  “Nothing really.”

  “No, one minute she was looking out the window, then talking to that gentleman in the hallway—”

  “Then she collapsed.”

  “Was she upset? Did he say anything to bother her? Did she raise her voice?”

  “Nothing, Dr. Benson. Nothing at all.”

  “She made a call to her home but was fine after that. Not upset at all.”

  “I called Gross. He’s on his way.”

  Joe waited in the doorway until one of the nurses pushed past him. “You’ll have to go to the waiting room at the end of the hall. Or downstairs. But stay out of the way.”

  She was back almost in an instant with a glass bottle and thin rubber hoses. “Let’s move along, now.”

  He took one last look into the room. All he saw were feet below the curtain like stick people standing next to her bed. She needed more than stick people to save her.

  Joe headed for the waiting room, where the silence nearly killed him. He had to know what was going on in room 214.

  Hands clasped, he bowed his head. This nightmare has to end, Lord. Give her a chance to live. A chance to fight. She’s always been a fighter. Let her remember that.

  A man in a smart suit, dark hair, late thirties to early forties marched past the waiting room. I
n his hand, the usual black bag that Joe had grown to dislike because it meant illness. Still, the man walked with purpose and Joe followed his steps the whole way down the hall to Victoria’s room. Then he realized it was the famous Dr. Gross. He’d seen him briefly the day before.

  Joe followed along and stood outside the door despite what the nurse had told him.

  “There we are, now. You gave us a scare, young woman. Remember me? Dr. Gross? Would you mind if I examine you again?” Then a “hmm” and an “aha” followed by “I’d like to see the test results.”

  A very weak voice murmured something that Joe didn’t understand.

  “How long have you felt weak and tired like this? You didn’t mention this yesterday.

  “No other warning signs?

  “Just recently, then.”

  And the examination continued as the doctor verified one more time all that Victoria had told the other doctors back home. Joe stepped away when a nurse exited, but she was in such a hurry she didn’t seem to notice him standing there this time.

  Gross exited next. He stepped behind the nurses’ station and seemed to be examining…tests? Joe couldn’t be sure.

  Then the doctor headed back to 214.

  “Nothing to eat or drink after midnight. Let’s have a look at this in the morning. Miss Banks, I’ve looked over all your tests and I think we can fix you up just fine. Do you want an explanation of what I plan to do?” Then he laughed at something she must have said. “All right, then. We’ll keep you calmly and comfortably in the dark until I get back later. I’ll do a few more tests, and then tomorrow morning we should be ready to make you feel like a new woman. Nurse Malcome will go over the procedure with you later, as much or as little as you care to know. But there are a few things you need to be aware of so they don’t surprise you after the operation.”

  The nurse returned with a syringe. Joe stopped her on her way back out of the room. “Will I be able to see her after Dr. Gross leaves?”

  “I gave her something to relax her, help her sleep. I doubt she’ll even know you’re there.”

  “Then could I sit with her?”

  The woman smiled and winked. “I suppose that would be all right.”

  Twenty minutes that felt like an hour passed, and the doctor left along with the nurses. The one he’d spoken to earlier stopped and patted his arm. “You can go in now, for a while. Try not to waken her. She needs the sleep.”

  Things were moving so fast. Joe thought the tests would take days. Was Victoria’s condition that obvious? Why hadn’t any of them seen a problem before? He had known her for years, and not in his worst imagination did he think she had a heart problem. Why now?

  He stepped into the room and sat in the chair next to her bed. Her eyes fluttered for a second and then she appeared to be in deep sleep. “Victoria?”

  Nothing. He reached for one of her hands. Soft, but so thin now. And with a needle in the back of her other hand, he traced the line to the glass bottle over her head, wondering what they were giving her.

  “Honey, can you hear me?”

  Her lips trembled for a second. Trying to talk? Her lips moved, but no words came out and she continued to sleep.

  Joe stroked the back of her hand. “Victoria, I don’t know if you can hear me or not, but I want you to know one thing. I love you. From the day I stepped on your foot for the first time until the shiner. Then when I picked you up for the dance, I couldn’t believe my eyes. You were the most beautiful girl I’d ever seen. I thought I’d lost you after that and tried my best to drive you out of my heart. Other relationships, situations. But I don’t think I did a very good job of it.” His fingers curled around her hand, and instead of warmth, her hand was cool to the touch. He didn’t like that one bit. He wrapped her hand completely in both of this, allowing his own body warmth to take the chill from her skin. He leaned in and kissed her fingers.

  “Then when I saw you in Lansing, it all came flooding back. Your beauty, inside and out, the way you stand your ground, your spunk. And I wanted you in my life again. Still, I thought you lived in Lansing and figured I wouldn’t ever see you.”

  Joe brushed the hair from her forehead. “And six months later, I watched you whirling around on your toes, dancing across the stage, and my heart melted. I guess that doesn’t sound very manly or romantic, but it did. I haven’t been the same since. My dearest Victoria, I’ll love you until the day I die. I want you to be part of my life. I want us to grow very old together. You and me. Together forever.”

  He laid his head on the edge of the bed. If only she would wake up and let him pour his feelings out the way he wanted, but instead a throat cleared behind him. Startled, he whirled around. Mrs. Mapes and her patent frown.

  *

  This time, the oak desk in front of the matronly woman mocked him. Twice in two days. It felt like when he’d been sent to the principal’s office again. Once for the tiny frog in Sissy Faith’s soup, and the next time for glue on Mrs. Glasser’s seat. How was he to know that glue would set up so quickly? And his father had to buy the poor woman a new dress. He sighed, remembering how hurt his father had been. That injured look had bothered Joe more than the two trips to the woodshed. Being paddled the second time had been eye-opening. He made sure that had been his last experience with a switch.

  The look on Mapes’s face, however, caused his hand to reach behind. He nearly rubbed his backside when she leveled a stare over her reading glasses and said, “There will be a matter of another payment, I’m afraid. Mr. Huntington, I realize you are here at the behest of Miss Banks’s father and mother. But this matter must be handled within the next few hours. I apologize. I had assumed we would have more time to work out the details, but Dr. Gross feels the need to do surgery right away. I’ll need this amount before he will be allowed to start in the morning.” She pressed another paper into his hands. “Your bill with him is his business, but we have to be sure the hospital will be paid in a timely manner. Within forty-eight hours is what we prefer.”

  “I—uh, I don’t have that kind of money with me. Let me call Mr. Banks and—”

  “I think that’s wise. We will need half of this to proceed in the morning and the rest when we release Miss Banks.” She fiddled with the papers. “Unless, of course, Mr. Banks makes other arrangements.”

  Joe’s forehead, now drenched in sweat, furrowed. He did his best to appear agreeable, but this was outrageous. How was he supposed to come up with this amount of money by morning?

  He had no choice but to call Art. “May I use your phone? In private?”

  “Of course.” She stepped around the desk and headed toward the door. “You will be reversing the charges, of course?”

  “Naturally.”

  A minute later his call was going through. “Thank you, operator. I’m waiting. Art? It’s Joe. I’m glad I caught you in.”

  “No reason for me to be out anymore. I talked with Flannigan about the loan. He’s the one who stopped the owner from going forward with the roof.”

  “You couldn’t fix the problem?”

  “No, son. Flannigan seemed downright unfriendly. I didn’t notice that in the past. Why, we’ve enjoyed a great professional relationship through the years. Not thick as thieves or anything but good business partners. I don’t get it. I really don’t. At any rate, finances will be a bit tight until I can convince him to go ahead with the loan.”

  “Sorry to hear that.”

  “I suppose when the time comes, I’ll have to speak with the finance department at the hospital. Arrange some sort of payments to cover Victoria’s bill.”

  Joe’s mind wandered. Was all of the tension because Joe had quit at Wysse’s and decided to work with Art? Surely Flannigan wouldn’t want to stop them from a partnership. Joe thought Flannigan would be happy that Joe was proving himself more by working with a businessman who’d been strong in the community for years.

  Then as plain as day, he remembered the photo over Flannigan’s desk. Flannigan an
d Wysse, arms around each other’s shoulder. Surely that didn’t have to do with business. “Art, are Flannigan and Mr. Wysse very close?”

  “Certainly. Wallace Wysse Sr. and Flannigan are in-laws. Why do you ask?”

  Chapter 12

  Joe slumped against the desk. Flannigan. He wasn’t going to help Art no matter what. Pure out-and-out conflict. And Joe was the cause. He knew Art had put all of his savings into the company during the war to keep it afloat, and now when he needed it…there wouldn’t be any left. Why hadn’t he taken Joe’s money when they decided to work together? Now he’d have no choice. He’d have to call information for the bank’s number.

  “No reason, sir. Let’s get down to business. We need to talk about Victoria. Gross is doing the surgery in the morning. I have his number here. He said to call if you had questions and I figured you would.” He replaced the receiver in the cradle.

  Mapes would be back soon, and she would want answers. How could he fix the problem in time? Moisture speckled his forehead in spite of how cool they kept the hospital. He had to call his bank if Victoria was to have her operation in the morning.

  Flannigan couldn’t hold Joe’s savings hostage, even if he had disrupted the restaurant’s plans. When Flannigan balked about wiring the money to Joe, Joe threatened all kinds of action, things he knew nothing about but hoped he sounded knowledgeable.

  “And, Mr. Flannigan, I’ve started to put two and two together.”

  “What are you talking about?”

  “You, sir, and the restaurant deal that Mr. Banks was working on.”

  “I don’t see that it’s any concern of yours, Mr. Huntington. The owner didn’t have the proper permits and paperwork to go forward.”

  “He did, Mr. Flannigan, and you know it. I don’t understand why you would want to punish Arthur Banks, a good man, for my quitting at Wysse and Sons. Mr. Wysse and I parted on good terms. And Mr. Banks has been in business in town for twenty years. He’s never done a thing to bring this on himself.”