Before the thought could sink in that there wasn’t enough thanks in the world, she grabbed her sweater from the stairway post opposite the front door. “I have to go. Don’t take this the wrong way, but I never want to see you in my emergency room again.”
“Megan—”
“Goodbye, Simon.”
She walked out and hurried down the sidewalk to her car. Her mission was half accomplished. Simon was opening up. She hadn’t thanked him personally. One out of two wasn’t bad. But she just couldn’t stay. For someone who was just beginning to flex his emotional muscles again, he’d sure nailed her. She was running. As fast as she could. And it had nothing to do with losing her job and everything to do with losing her heart. But she hadn’t reached the point of no return.
She’d gotten out just in time.
Chapter Eleven
Megan walked into the hospital cafeteria and helped herself to a diet soda and a piece of fruit. While she waited in line to pay, she looked around the nearly empty room. After terminating her assignment with Simon the day before, she’d managed to pick up a per diem shift. So far it was a slow day in the ER. But she spotted a familiar face at a table by the window.
After paying the cashier for her items, she wandered across the room to a circular table surrounded by four orange plastic chairs on silver metal frames. “Mind if I join you?”
Startled, Janet glanced up. Then she smiled warmly. “Megan. Of course. Sit down.”
“Thanks.” Outside the window, there was a courtyard filled with sculpted bushes, plants, trees and flowers. A stepping stone path led to wrought-iron tables, chairs and benches. Through the branches, sunlight and blue sky winked down. It was a tranquil and lovely view and she could understand why Janet had picked this spot.
After settling herself, Megan cut her apple into slivers and surgically removed the core and pits. “What are you doing here?”
“I got beeped.”
“Oh.”
Megan remembered her friend was a volunteer liaison between doctors and families in handling consent, procurement and distribution of lifesaving organs for a number of hospitals in the Los Angeles area. For one week a month, Janet made herself available twenty-four hours a day to support any family who had lost a loved one. She was there for comfort and to answer any questions.
“Did they call you in about the teenage girl in the car accident?” Megan asked.
Sadness and exhaustion made Janet look older. “Yes. Single car. Massive head injuries. Her EEG is flat. Machines are keeping her body alive while the family considers the options.”
Megan reached over and took her hand, squeezing it reassuringly. “They’re lucky to have you. You’re the best.”
The older woman sighed. “I know.”
“And humble, too.”
“You know me too well.” She smiled and a little of her spirit seemed to return. “What are you doing here?”
“The ER was shorthanded.”
“But I didn’t think your assignment with Simon was over yet. Is he fully recovered?”
Megan had a feeling his powers of recovery were pretty amazing—in more ways than one. But last night she’d left before she could find out for sure. And none of that was something she wanted to share.
She took a sip of her soda, then shifted uncomfortably in her chair. “He can take care of himself now.”
“You quit, didn’t you?”
“I’m not exactly sure how you came to that conclusion based on my comment.”
“As you said, I’m the best. I’m right, too, aren’t I?”
She hesitated, then met the other woman’s gaze. “Yes.”
“Why, Megan? I thought things were going well.”
“Depends on your definition of well. He did open up a bit.”
“That’s good.” Janet sat up straighter as she toyed with the teaspoon resting on the saucer beneath her coffee cup. “What did he tell you?”
“About the divorce. He said his business required him to put in a lot of hours and there was travel involved.”
The other woman nodded. “He was gone a lot. Donna often mentioned it. But she had a hard time making a life for herself. Did he say anything else?”
“I don’t think he intended to tell me, but he said they died together in the accident. He blames himself.”
“Still?” Janet shook her head.
Megan nodded. “He said it was his weekend to take Marcus and if he hadn’t put business first, his son would still be alive.”
“That’s good.” She leaned closer, her gaze piercing. “No?”
“Yes. If he’d volunteered the information freely.”
“How did you get him to open up?”
“I kept hammering away until he pushed back by asking about my relationship with Bayleigh’s father. But I think the fact that he brought her up at all is hopeful. Then I touched a nerve and he blew up.”
Janet nodded. “Did he talk about Donna and Marcus—donating their organs, I mean? Did he say anything about how he feels about it?”
Megan shook her head. A vision of Simon from last night filled her mind. His sorrow and grief etched in the lines of his face. He’d been dealing with the remembered pain of losing his son. And then they’d gotten sidetracked. She would never know if he’d have freely offered that part of his pain.
“He didn’t say anything about it. Period.” But Megan had nagging concerns in that regard. “And that’s what worries me, Jan. You and I have talked about this. For so many families the healing process starts with the decision to donate organs. It’s been two years. I don’t understand. If Simon gave consent for organ donation—”
Janet’s expression was bleak. “He didn’t make the decision. I did.”
“You never told me that,” Megan said, stunned.
“It didn’t seem necessary. He refused to see you when you wanted to meet with him.” She sighed and shook her head, remembering. “He was on a plane on his way overseas when the accident happened. I couldn’t get in touch with him right away. After the divorce, Donna gave me power of attorney, just in case. But I never thought I’d have to use it. You know as well as I do there’s only a small window of time when the organs are viable enough to do any good. I watch people struggle with the decision for so many reasons. I didn’t. It was so clear to me. It was a way to somehow make sense of senseless loss.”
Megan nodded. “I know.”
“But Simon didn’t have a chance to take those steps with me. By the time he was able to get home, it was done and he didn’t understand.”
“He didn’t approve of what you did?” Megan held her breath. If she didn’t draw in air, maybe she wouldn’t feel the fear, pain and desolation she knew were scratching to be let in.
Janet shook her head. “That’s putting it mildly. He was so angry. Suffice it to say the last thing he wanted was to meet people who were living and asking to thank him for something he didn’t support. A part of him died when he lost Marcus. I blame myself for—”
“No. Don’t go there, Jan. With all my heart I believe someday he will understand why you did what you did.”
“I hoped when he reached out to you that he was finally getting there. That soon he would be able to put the past to rest and move on. It sounds as if you were making progress. What happened, Megan? What did he do to make you quit?”
It wasn’t him, she wanted to say. It was herself. “That doesn’t matter. What’s important is that I believe he’s started the process of coming back.”
“How do you know? What makes you think so?”
“There were—signs.” Physical signs that were pretty hard to ignore. And she hadn’t.
“You need to go back to him.”
As she stared into her soda, Megan felt the other woman’s hand on her arm. She looked up. “Why me?”
“I don’t have an answer for that. But I do know for two years he’s withdrawn from life. And I think his dangerous hobbies are taking him further and further away. I’m w
orried about him. For some reason you got through and he reached out. I believe you’re the only one who can pull him back from the edge.”
Megan recalled what he’d said that night in the ER. Living on the edge was the only safe place to feel anything. His revelations last night had given her a small window of understanding about what he’d meant.
Megan shook her head. “I can’t be the one. You’ve got to trust me on this. There’s a good explanation for why I can’t go back.”
“Did you sleep with him?”
Stunned, Megan could only stare at the other woman.
“I’ll take that as a yes,” Janet said wryly.
“How do you do that?”
“It’s a gift. I have a feeling it’s one of the signs you were talking about. And I agree it’s hopeful. To the best of my knowledge, there hasn’t been anyone for him since the accident. I’ve kept in close contact with him.”
“There must have been someone. He had—” Megan felt heat climb into her cheeks.
“Protection?” Janet smiled as she leaned back in her chair.
“Yes.” Megan focused on the other woman’s face as images of heat and need and instinct tumbled through her mind. The closeness. How good she’d felt in his arms. “Are they good after so long? Is there a condom shelf life?”
Janet laughed. “That’s out of my sphere of expertise. Did it break?”
Megan’s cheeks, just beginning to cool, flamed again. “I don’t know. I left as fast as I could.”
“And you don’t want to go back.” The older woman sighed. “Because obviously you’re attracted to him. You’re not the sort to hop into the sack with just any warm body.”
“Thank you, I think.” She met Janet’s gaze. “He said I’m the rainbows and moonlights type.”
“You are. A romantic. Looking for love. This is better than I could have hoped.”
Megan thought Janet couldn’t be more wrong. It was the worst thing that could happen.
Her friend’s expression turned serious. “He finally reached out, Megan. Without you I’m not sure he’ll have a reason to finish the process you’ve started.”
“But don’t you see? I don’t want to be his reason. I have to think about Bayleigh—first, last, always.”
“Isn’t there a chance that you and Simon can—”
Megan shook her head. “Not a chance. And you know why better than anyone. I want to give my daughter a family. Usually that consists of a father, mother and a child. Even if he could get past the fact that my child can see because his child is gone, why would he want to care about anyone that much ever again?”
“Did he tell you that?”
“No. But—”
“So you’re assuming. You’re assigning him feelings he hasn’t actually expressed. There’s only one reason you would do that, Megan.”
“And what would that be?”
Janet leaned her forearms on the table. “You’re afraid to care about anyone, too.”
“Have you been taking those classes again?” she accused.
“That’s what Simon always says when I nail him.”
“You didn’t nail me.” She didn’t want to think about the fact that she and Simon had anything in common.
Janet looked at her watch, then stood abruptly. “I’d love to debate this with you, but I have to get back to ICU.”
“Okay.” Megan felt like a slug. In her own distress and confusion, she’d forgotten why the other woman was there in the first place.
“Megan? Don’t abandon him. There’s still the matter of telling him how Bayleigh’s sight was saved.”
Megan watched the older woman dispose of her trash then leave the cafeteria. She didn’t have to tell Simon anything. He didn’t want to know. He didn’t approve. She was glad she hadn’t said a word about it.
Because the fact that she missed him so much was her own sign. A sign that she was starting to care. And the best possible reason for her to be relieved that she’d quit. Last night she’d thought she’d gotten out in the nick of time. She still believed that with all her heart.
Simon stood outside the door to Megan’s apartment. It had been easy to find her. He already knew she was in the phone book, and there weren’t a lot of Brightwells.
He looked around the outside of the well-manicured complex. It was a security building, but he’d been going in as someone was coming out and they’d held the gate for him. Good thing he wasn’t a serial killer. Bad that he felt twinges of an unwelcome protective streak for Megan.
He knocked and instantly heard running feet. Through the door he heard a little girl’s voice.
“Who’s there?”
“Simon,” he answered.
“Mommy’s patient? The one with the hurt leg?”
He looked down at his jeans. Without the brace he could finally wear them and do without crutches. Although he expected to catch hell from his nurse about it. “Yes. I’m your mommy’s patient with the hurt leg. We talked on the phone. When you had a pj day. Remember?”
The door opened and Megan’s little angel-in-training stood there. “I remember.”
A sharp pain stabbed him as he looked at this beautiful, living, breathing child. Her golden hair was cut in a bob around her small face. She was wearing navy stretch pants with flowers and a solid navy sweatshirt with a turtleneck underneath. Curious, solemn blue eyes regarded him from behind wire-rimmed glasses.
“Hi, Bayleigh,” he said.
“Hi. You know my name.”
“Your mom told me. Is she home?”
She nodded and her hair shimmered in the sunlight. “She’s got music on because she hates cleaning her room. She says it helps her go faster.”
He heard the music and the vacuum, which explained why she hadn’t answered his knock. Something told him she wouldn’t be too happy about him standing here talking to her daughter.
“Does your mom let you answer the door to strangers?”
“No. But I asked who was there, and you’re not a stranger. We talked on the phone.”
He couldn’t fault her logic. “Can I come in?”
“How do you ask?”
He felt another slice in his heart. It was a question he’d always ask Marcus, when he’d taught his son the magic words “please” and “thank you.” He pushed the thought away. “Please?”
She shook her head so hard strands of hair covered her face, and she brushed them away. “Don’t you remember the game?”
“Ah,” he said, nodding. He smiled. “Simon says may I come in?”
“Yes, you may.” She gave him a radiant smile and stepped aside, opening the door wide.
“Thank you.” He passed her, and she shut the door behind him.
“You’re welcome.”
The first-floor apartment was warm, homey and so very Megan-like. There were pictures everywhere, which was why she had probably noticed he didn’t have any. Collages of them lined the wall, as well as photos of Bayleigh at various ages. On the end tables flanking the beige floral sofa, pictures in all kinds of frames littered the tops. Stuffed animals rested on either end of the sofa back. There was an entertainment center on the wall opposite the couch with kids’ movies displayed. Straight ahead, he saw a dinette in the alcove off the kitchen. And a hall he figured led to her bedroom.
The room with her bed. Just the thought of it sent the blood surging hot through his veins heading due south. This was just one of the numerous downsides of coming back to life, he thought ruefully as the heaviness settled in his groin.
“You have a nice place here,” he said.
She glanced around. “Mommy says it’s perfect for the two of us. She says it’s her and me against the world.”
Simon looked at her small face, the glasses that gave her the mature air to go with the grown-up sentiment. “I like your glasses.”
“Thank you. Mommy said my eyes were broken, but the doctor fixed them and now I have to wear glasses to see better.”
The announcemen
t stunned him. He knew she was in kindergarten, which made her about five—two years younger than Marcus would be if he’d lived. She talked about it as if she had no memory of the event. “Do you remember when the doctor fixed them?”
She shrugged. “Not much. I was little then. But Mommy says I look smart.”
“I think you look pretty.”
“I think you’re pretty smart,” she said, giggling.
He laughed along with her and felt something inside him crack and fall away. The ice around his heart? He shook his head. Way too poetic for him. He saw a movement in his peripheral vision.
“Bayleigh, it’s time for you— Oh!”
Simon could almost hear the screeching halt as Megan entered the living room and came to a sudden full and complete stop. “Hi.”
“What are you doing here?” She came closer and nestled her daughter close to her side. Protectively close. “Bay, you know better than to open the door to a stranger.”
“It’s Simon, Mom.”
“Yes, I know. But—”
“We played Simon says, and he said it right so I had to let him in.”
“No—” She huffed out a breath as she slid a nervous glance in his direction. “We’ll talk about it later.”
Bayleigh pushed her glasses up on her nose as she looked at her mother. He remembered what Megan had said about her daughter seeing the eye doctor to get a checkup and her strong negative reaction when he’d suggested rescheduling. He wondered how serious the child’s eye problems were. Serious enough to make her father leave when she and Megan had needed him most? He recalled what she’d said the other night about just getting her career off the ground. Had the child’s problem been so severe, Megan had put everything on hold?
“Mommy, I think you’re the best nurse in the whole wide world.”
With her arm around the child’s shoulders, Megan grinned down at her. “Besides the fact that you’re in deep doo-doo, why do you think that?”
Bayleigh pointed at him. “He’s all better.”
“And you know this—how?” her mother asked, glancing at him.
Midnight, Moonlight & Miracles Page 14