by Gun Brooke
“Beatrice, are you staying with Tierney until we get there?” Giselle asked while she stood and walked out to the small cabinet in the kitchen that held all the keys.
“You couldn’t drag us away. There’s a bit of a crowd here, but Mauritz is keeping them from getting too close. It’s mostly kids.” Something in Beatrice’s words gave Giselle the feeling that nobody messed with Mauritz, or Beatrice herself for that matter.
“Thanks. Call this cellphone again if something happens.” Please, God, don’t let anything make her injuries get worse. Hurrying into the garage, she jumped into the driver’s seat and found Stephanie already on the passenger side. As Giselle turned the ignition key, she froze. She was about to press the button on the sunscreen to open the garage door, when it dawned on her. How could she have spoken without thinking? She couldn’t possibly leave the house in daytime, let alone drive along the busy streets into East Quay.
“Giselle?” Stephanie asked, sounding confused. “What’s wrong?”
“I can’t. And you don’t have a driver’s license.” Giselle could taste iron in her mouth when she clenched her teeth so hard she hurt herself. “We have to think of another way.” But what way was there? Could she call Mike Stone? Or perhaps Manon? That would take too long.
“Why? Oh. One of your phobias?” Stephanie was pale in the fluorescent light in the garage. “But we have to get to her. Can’t you just drive us there, and I’ll go get her? Then you can take us to the doctor, and I’ll go inside with her. Would that help?” Stephanie gripped Giselle’s hand. “Please, Giselle?”
It wasn’t hard to picture Tierney with blood pouring down her face. She might have a concussion or, worse, a serious head trauma. If there was a time to work past her agoraphobia, it was now. Still, it was one thing to rationalize like that and an entirely different matter to carry out her intention.
Giselle pressed the button on the garage opener. Slowly, she backed the Jeep out onto the driveway. After closing the garage, she looked around. The sun was low behind the forest across the gravel road. She spotted Mister, who had his own little door to go in and out as he pleased, sitting on the steps leading up to the front door. Everything looked peaceful. Perhaps she would be able to make it.
Chapter Twenty-one
Feeling a bit nauseous, Tierney sat on the sidewalk. The lovely couple she’d hit full force had placed a fleece blanket with a pug motif around her shoulders. She really wasn’t cold, but she couldn’t stop shivering. Beatrice and Mauritz had taken her collision with them quite well, considering they had to be in their eighties. Beatrice looked very posh and well dressed, and Mauritz, with his plaid shirt and chinos, had that everybody-loves-granddad style.
“Here you go, ladies,” an unfamiliar voice said. A man in his sixties came walking up with two camping chairs. Behind him, another man, this one slightly younger, carried a tray with what looked like iced tea.
Tierney stared. Was this how things were done in East Quay? Normally, a crowd of staring people would have formed, and people would film with their phone cameras, and at least someone would call 911 no matter what she said.
“I thought you might be thirsty,” the younger man said, smiling reassuringly. “We live right up there and saw the whole thing from our deck. I’m glad you’re sitting up.” He directed the last part at Tierney.
“Paul? I remember you from school,” Beatrice said and lit up somewhat as she accepted one of the chairs. Mauritz had fetched a second blanket for his wife, and now she pulled it closer.
“Yes, Mrs. Nielsen,” the younger man, Paul, said. “I recognized you right away.”
The older man unfolded the other chair next to Tierney. “What do you say I help haul you off that curb, miss?” he asked. “Oh, my. You sure did a number on your scalp.”
“Yeah. Thanks.” Tierney clung to his arm as he guided her into the chair. “And call me Tierney.”
“I’m John.” John smiled. He introduced himself to Beatrice and Mauritz, but Tierney only heard them talk very vaguely. It had dawned on her Giselle wouldn’t possibly be able to drive in daylight, and in rush-hour traffic at that. It was that time of day. Perhaps she should call Giselle back. She looked around for her phone and spotted it in Beatrice’s hand.
“I need to call Giselle back.” Tierney reached for her phone.
“I’m sure she’ll be here any minute.” Beatrice calmly held on to the phone. “Just relax, girl. You’ll be fine.” She tilted her head. “Can you believe that young Paul there was my student in middle school? He was such a sweet boy. Very musical and very intelligent.”
“Now you’re making me blush, Mrs. Nielsen.” Paul came up and crouched next to them. “You’re a bit pale there, Tierney. You’re not feeling faint, I hope.”
“A bit nauseous,” Tierney confessed. “And I need to call Giselle again. She’s not, I mean, she shouldn’t drive. Can I get a cab, do you think?” She wasn’t sure she was making sense.
“Giselle? Giselle Bonnaire?” Paul looked astonished. “Talk about East Quay being smaller than you think at times. I know Giselle. We used to be neighbors. I’m older than she is, but we were both into music in a major way and found a certain kinship.”
Since Giselle’s property was isolated, that meant Giselle had to have lived somewhere else when she grew up. For some reason, Tierney had taken it for granted that Giselle had always lived in her remote house after she inherited it.
“I see. Well, perhaps you know why she can’t drive here.” Not wanting to betray Giselle’s confidence, Tierney didn’t elaborate.
“She was the nervous type even back when we were in our early teens. She was homeschooled for the most part, and her piano teacher came to her house to give her lessons. I think the only classes she attended away from home were our laboratory for chemistry and physics.” Paul looked wistfully at Beatrice. “It would have been great for Giselle to have a teacher like Beatrice Nielsen. I saw her coax many students out of their shell. In fact, I was one of them.”
Tierney leaned against the backrest. She was so tired, and the emotional outburst after the debacle with Leanne weighed on her. What if her police hubby found her sealed record? Yes, she’d been filled with bravado before the accident, but now she felt wary about the possibility. Cops here wouldn’t be able to unseal her records, and it wasn’t as if she’d committed a serious crime, yet the mere fact that she had such records could be used against her. Why had she been so scathing toward Leanne, a customer? Tierney needed the extra cash, and now she wouldn’t have a chance to walk any other dogs. Leanne most likely had a long reach. One word from her and others were bound to listen.
A car pulled up outside the Nielsens’ dented vehicle, and Tierney squinted at the agile figure jumping out from the passenger door. It was Steph. How was that even possible?
“Oh, Tierney.” Steph knelt next to her. “You sure look a mess.” She glanced around. “Thank you, everybody, for taking care of Tierney. I don’t mean to be rude, but we need to take her to the doctor right away. We have your phone numbers, Mr. and Mrs. Nielsen. We’ll be in touch, I promise.”
“Here. Let me help you.” Paul bent and lifted Tierney as if she weighed nothing. After carrying her to the Jeep, he waited until Stephanie had opened the door to the backseat. He helped Tierney inside and cast a glance at the driver. “Giselle. Nice to see you after all these years.”
Tierney stared at her. Giselle appeared tense, and perspiration beaded on her forehead and upper lip. She looked like she was ready to faint. And her grip on the steering wheel was white-knuckled enough for Tierney to fear Giselle’s pale skin might crack.
“Hey, you okay?” Paul asked, clearly having noticed the same.
“Nice to see you, Paul. I’m fine. We have to go.” Maybe Giselle’s grimace was meant to be a smile, but it looked more like a painful stretching of the lips.
“Why don’t you jump back here with Tierney, and I’ll drive you to the UCC?” Paul asked. “I think it’ll go faster, and you can
tend to your, um, friend.”
Giselle glowered at him via the mirror. “Still playing big brother?” she murmured.
“You bet.” Paul rounded the car, and Giselle climbed between the seats and sat down next to Tierney, who slumped sideways onto Giselle’s shoulder. She didn’t faint exactly; she could hear Giselle’s worried voice, smell the fragrance of her perfume, and if she opened her eyes, she’d be able to see Giselle’s beautiful face. But it was as if her resolve and strength had abandoned her now that Giselle was here. Giselle, who never in a million years would have ventured out, not to mention into the fray of things, at this hour.
“You’re going to be fine,” Giselle murmured. “They’ll fix you up, and then we’ll go home. All right?”
Stephanie had climbed into the backseat on the other side of Tierney, who was beginning to feel a bit ridiculous. Perhaps that was a sign that she really was all right? She smiled. Paul was already driving fast along a road lined with maples. The leaves were green now, Tierney thought, but they would be spectacularly on fire come fall. Rolling with the motions as Paul made several turns, she felt Giselle’s arms come around her. It was strange, but the better Tierney began to feel, the more agitated Giselle seemed. Her chest was heaving, and her heartbeat, which Tierney heard loud and clear since her head had slid down to just above Giselle’s breast, was rapid. Giselle was shivering, much like how Tierney had been only moments ago.
“Giselle?” Stephanie murmured. “You’re doing fine. We came this far, and you can make it until we’re home. Just breathe slower.”
Paul turned in behind a hedge and stopped outside a low building. A sign showed this was the urgent-care clinic and they were outside the ambulance bay. Stephanie jumped out, and Paul poked his head in, looking worriedly at Tierney and Giselle. “Yikes. Which one of you needs the doctor most?”
“V-very funny, Paul. Move so I can help Tierney out.”
Soon, they were in a corridor where two nurses met them with a gurney. They assisted Tierney as she climbed up and gratefully lay down. She did her best to keep her eyes locked on Giselle, who was now leaning against the wall. Her face was ashen, and Tierney was afraid she might faint or have a panic attack. She reached out for Giselle, who didn’t seem to notice her hand at first but eventually took two steps toward her and gripped it. Her grasp bordered on painful, but Tierney figured that Giselle needed anchoring more than anything else. She squeezed the elegant, strong hand in hers and gazed up at her.
“Thank you,” Tierney murmured. “You came. You didn’t have to, but you did.”
“Of course I had to. So did Stephanie.” Giselle spoke through clenched teeth. Perhaps she feared they’d clatter if she relaxed her jaw. She walked next to the gurney when they wheeled Tierney into an exam room.
After the nurse cleaned the minor scrapes on Tierney’s palms and knees, the doctor, a middle-aged brunette, who gave Tierney grief for not wearing a helmet, quickly stitched up the small gash at her hairline. The nurse bandaged it, and after making sure Tierney had never lost consciousness, something Stephanie verified by calling Beatrice and Mauritz, the doctor recommended Tylenol and some rest for the upcoming couple of days.
Paul was still there when they exited the exam room, and so was his partner, John. The kind interest was heartwarming, and Tierney could hardly believe her luck, in more ways than one. Luck that she had survived the collision and for literally running into such caring, nice people. “Thank you,” she said, and hugged both men. “I’m so grateful for your help.”
“How are you going to get home?” Paul asked, sending a hesitant look Giselle’s way.
“I’ll drive,” Tierney said, but stopped talking when a firm hand gripped her elbow.
“No, you won’t. If I’ve made it this far, I can drive home as well.” Giselle spoke curtly, but Tierney knew she was trying to prevent the anxiety from gaining on her.
“You sure?” Paul asked. “I’d be happy to help.”
“I’m sure. But thank you. I’m honestly glad to have met you again after all these years.” Giselle extended her hand to Paul. “And, when Tierney’s feeling herself again, you and—John, was it?—must come visit.”
“We’d love to.” Paul raised her hand to his lips. “Take care, and drive carefully.”
Stephanie nodded. “I’ll make sure she does.”
Tierney snorted, not bothered by the mock glare Giselle gave her. Then she thought of something. “Hey, Paul? You can do me a huge favor, actually.”
“Name it,” Paul said.
“The bike. Can you take care of it? I think it’s beyond repair, but I want to make sure. It’s not even mine. It’s Giselle’s.” She sighed and lowered her head. “You’ll have to take that expense from my salary for the foreseeable future.” Realizing what she’d just said, Tierney touched one of her own hot cheeks. Trust her to imply she’d be in Giselle’s employ for months on end. Another part of her wondered how much such a bike went for. Probably more than five hundred dollars.
“I don’t care about the bike. I’m just glad you’re all right.” Giselle put her arm around Tierney’s shoulders.
“I’ll take care of it and bring it out to you,” Paul said reassuringly.
“Thank you, Paul,” Giselle said and held Tierney closer. “Now, Tierney, let’s go before you fall over. Again.”
“Gee, thanks.” Smiling wryly, Tierney was grateful that the car was still right outside. She sank into the passenger seat and buckled up. Stephanie did the same in the backseat, and Giselle started the Jeep. “I really do mean to pay for the bike, Giselle. It was my fault.”
“I never ride it. Frances sometimes did, but who knows if she’s ever coming back.” Giselle shrugged as she turned the car out into the road. Rush hour was over, and Tierney thought she could see Giselle relax marginally.
“We’ll examine it when Paul brings it over.” Tierney knew it was sort of childish, but she wanted Giselle to know they hadn’t closed the subject.
“How did it happen, Tierney?” Stephanie asked from the backseat. Her voice sounded close to shrill, and Tierney suspected the girl was tense about her and Giselle not agreeing regarding the bike.
“I was really upset after returning Timo to Leanne. I wanted out of there and forgot the helmet that I had strapped on the back of the bike.” Tierney sighed. “I’m an idiot.” She rubbed her temple, but that motion aggravated her sore forehead.
“Wait. Back up. What happened at Leanne Walters’s?” Giselle gave Tierney a quick glance.
“I was twelve minutes late. Twelve. Leanne was throwing a fit right there on the sidewalk and made me feel like she thought I’d kidnapped her baby. I know I’d said an hour, but I ran into Mike, and we talked some while the dogs had fun. And yes, according to Leanne, I put her cocker spaniel in harm’s way since the dogs in question could have had rabies and whatnot. She wouldn’t listen to me. She said her husband the cop was going to run a search on me.” Remembering her bravado when facing off with Leanne, Tierney now only felt her abdominal muscles tremble and her headache worsen. “Then the brakes didn’t work, or maybe I maneuvered them wrong. I don’t know. I saw the car and tried to turn, but I slammed into the driver’s door. Oh, God.” She covered her face with her hands. “I’m going to have to pay for the damages to the car, aren’t I?” Where the hell would she get her hands on that kind of money? Perhaps she could sell her body to science?
“Stop.” Giselle held up her hand. “I’m the first to recognize you’re talking yourself into a panic attack. Everything will work out. I don’t know them well, Beatrice and Mauritz, but I’m certain they’re reasonable people. Don’t worry about the money. Promise me that.”
Tierney groaned. How was she supposed to promise such an impossible thing? “All right,” she said anyway. “I’ll try.”
The drive home went well. Seeing the house in the distance made tears rise in Tierney’s eyes. Never in her life had she felt as if she had a home like she did now. This was a recipe for disaste
r since she was very much a temporary guest in Giselle’s house—and her life. That fact hurt, but she was still glad to be there. While walking from the garage toward her room, she glanced at the large clock in the hallway. Already nine p.m.? No wonder she was exhausted.
“I’m heading for bed,” Tierney said, yawning.
“Wait. You shouldn’t be alone. Why don’t you change into your sleepwear and come to my bedroom,” Giselle said, a faint blush coloring her cheekbones.
Tierney was sure she must have heard Giselle wrong. “What?”
“You need someone to check on you a few times during the night. The doctor asked me when you were busy suffering through the stitching up of your hairline. She wanted me to wake you at least once. If you sleep on the other side of my king-size bed, I can easily set the alarm and do so.”
This was insane. Were all the deities in the universe out to torment her today? Tierney wanted to thud her head against the closest wall, but that would have ruptured her stitches, naturally. “Sure. Thank you,” she heard herself say.
“Okay. I’ll go feed the animals while you get ready. Stephanie? Can you take Charley out for her evening walk?”
“Sure thing.” Stephanie winked at Tierney. “And if you’ll show me how much food they get, I can do that from now on.”
“That’s sweet of you. Come on then.” Giselle began walking toward the kitchen. Turning her head over her shoulder, she said, “Go get ready before we have to carry you. You’re pale.”
Tierney merely nodded and headed for the guest room she occupied. After she used the bathroom and brushed her teeth, she discarded her torn clothes and put on a tank top and sleep boxers. She was still shivering, so she wrapped a soft throw around her shoulders and tiptoed to Giselle’s bedroom. She stopped at the threshold, as it felt wrong to enter before Giselle returned. Looking at the bed, she tried to picture herself sharing it with Giselle, but it was impossible. Only earlier that day she’d wondered about Giselle’s sexual orientation and if she’d imagined the currents between them. Now she was here and—