Miracle

by Kimberly Shursen

  The blare of an ambulance siren interrupted his thoughts. He hurried down the stairs taking two steps at a time and into the kitchen. When Clint noticed that Mira was at the table eating a bowl of cereal, he asked, “You okay?”

  “Uh-huh,” she told him, swirling milk and cereal around with a spoon.

  “Winston will be fine, sweetheart.”

  “I know,” she answered, and took another bite of cereal.

  Was she in shock? She acted as if nothing had happened.

  “He’s upstairs,” Clint told the paramedics when they hurried into the kitchen. He nodded toward the living room. “Through there.”

  “Who is this person to you?” one of the paramedics asked on the way to the second floor.

  “My wife’s cousin. Winston,” Clint called after them. “Winston Smith. He’s in the second bedroom on the left.”

  Clint was a mess. What if Winston died on the way to the hospital? Or maybe he’d already passed.

  He watched as Mira poured more cereal into her bowl, walked to her, and pressed his lips to the top of her head. If Winston had so much as touched her, Clint wouldn’t be responsible for what he did to him.

  “Honey, did Winston do or say anything to you?”

  “Like what?” she asked.

  Clint had no idea how to approach the subject. “I mean, did he say anything or—”

  “Nuh-uh. I just woke up and saw him lying there like he was dead.”

  She showed no emotion. No tears. Not even a hint of sadness in her voice.

  “That must have been really scary.”

  “It was at first.” She smiled. “But he’ll be okay.”

  A few minutes later Winston was brought downstairs on a stretcher. He was covered in a blanket, an oxygen mask over his face.

  “He’s going to be okay, right?” Clint asked.

  “Pulse is weak, but he’s still alive,” the medic answered as they carried Winston out the back door.

  “I’ll be in town later to check on him,” Clint called after them. “Please give the hospital my number.” Numb, he watched the ambulance leave before closing the back door.

  Clint’s emotions were at an all time high, going from empathy for Winston because he was obviously not well, to fuming, wondering what he was doing in Mira’s room.

  “I need to talk to your Mommy.”

  She looked up. “Why?”

  “She needs to know about her cousin. There’s no school today because of the storm, so I want you to go stay with your friend Chelsea while I check on Winston and then go talk to Mommy.”

  “I don’t want you to talk to Charlie!” she cried angrily.

  “Hey,”—his nerves were shot—“this is not an option, young lady,” Clint said sternly and then swung an arm toward the living room. “Now go upstairs and get dressed.”

  Hysterical, Mira jumped out of her chair and ran out of the room.

  “Mira.” Feeling guilty that he’d lost his patience, he started after her, but stopped when he reached the stairs. Hearing her loud sobs, Clint put his hand on the top of the banister, feeling ashamed. This was one of those times, however, that he needed to be Charlie and Mira was not going to get her way.

  He walked to the picture window, his mind reliving finding a stranger lying beside Mira’s bed, and then to his child who appeared seemingly untouched by the incident.

  As he made his way upstairs to take a shower, Clint felt heavy, as if each shoulder weighed a thousand pounds.

  “Why do you wanna talk to Charlie?” Faith asked on their way into town.

  “I miss Mommy, don’t you?” Clint glanced in his rearview mirror, seeing her head turn toward the window.

  “Mommy’s my best friend.” Clint watched for a reaction.

  Mira’s eyes narrowed. “Nuh-uh. I’m your best friend.”

  “Yes, you are, too.”

  When Clint called Chelsea’s mother and asked if he could bring Mira over, he was relieved when she said yes. He’d thought she might tell him no because of what had happened when Mira visited Chelsea the last time, plus the whole town was in an uproar with the allegations that Charlie had abused Mira.

  After he walked Mira to Chelsea’s door, Clint bent over and put his hands on his knees. “Honey, I’m sorry I got mad at you. It’s not you I’m angry with.”

  “Then who are you mad at?”

  Clint thought about how he could respond. “I’m upset with the situation.”

  Mira looked up at him, her innocent eyes melting Clint. “Everything’s gonna be okay, Daddy. We Abbotts are tough, right?”

  He stood up straight, warding off tears. “That we are.” Clint, however, was losing his toughness and turning into a ball of emotional mush.

  “You gonna see Mister, right?”

  “Yes. I’m going to check on him.” When Mira didn’t respond, he asked, “Anything you want me to tell him?”

  She shook her head. “No.”

  “Mira will be fine.” Chelsea’s mother told Clint when she answered the door. “With school closed, Chelsea is excited to have a play date.”

  “Thanks.” Clint headed for his truck. “I’ll be back as soon as I can.”

  All the way to the hospital Clint tried to understand why Winston had gone into Mira’s bedroom. As much as he wanted to believe that Charlie’s cousin had no ulterior motives, why else would a grown man go into a child’s bedroom in the middle of the night? Winston seemed like a nice guy, but then appearances can be deceiving.

  After he parked his truck at the hospital, his anger rose with each step he took toward the entrance. By the time he reached the reception desk, Clint was furious. He was no longer giving Charlie’s cousin the benefit of the doubt. Something wasn’t right. “Could you tell me what room Winston Smith is in?”

  “Let me check for you, Clint. Did you say his last name is Smith?”

  Clint stared at the older woman for a few seconds. “Oh, man,” Clint said, embarrassed he hadn’t recognized the lady who was the mother of one of his best friends in high school. “How are you Mrs. Gillespie? Sorry, my brain is working overtime.”

  “No problem,” she told Clint going down the roster of patients, “I don’t see that a Winston Smith has been admitted.”

  “Maybe check with ER.” Clint hoped he hadn’t died because he wanted to confront the SOB.

  She picked up the in house phone and dialed. “Yes, I have Clint Abbott here and he’s asking if there’s a Winston Smith in the ER?” She listened and nodded at Clint. “Okay, I’ll give him the message?”

  “Message?” Clint asked.

  “Mr. Smith is still in the ER, but his vitals are good and he’s awake. However, one of the nurses asked you to wait here as someone wants to speak with you.” She glanced at the chairs in the lobby. “Just take a seat and she’ll be right here.”

  “Okay, thanks.” Clint thought the nurse probably wanted to know if Winston had any relatives they should contact. He knew nothing about the man, only that he’d been raised in New York City. Now that he thought about it, no one in Charlie’s family had ever mentioned any relatives who lived in New York.

  Clint couldn’t get the incident with Winston off his mind. The more he thought about what happened, the more he became suspicious that Charlie was somehow involved in yet another cover up. She’d deceived Clint once when she’d taken Mira to Omaha and maybe there was more she’d not told Clint. Maybe Winston was the child psychiatrist who was recommended by the person Charlie had taken Mira to see. And Charlie had asked Winston not to tell Clint who he was.

  “Mr. Abbott?” Clint heard and looked up.

  “Yes,” he stood.

  “Please, don’t get up,” a brown eyed nurse with a dimple in her left cheek said. When she sat down, Clint took the chair next to her.

  “How’s Winston?” Clint asked.

  “I was in the emergency room when Mr. Smith came in, but I’m not his nurse. I wanted to talk to you about someone else who was admitted last night. Sha
nnon,” the nurse told him before Clint asked. “Shannon Patterson.”

  “Why is she here?” Just hearing her name irritated him.

  “You hear about the fire last night?”

  “Caught it on the radio coming into town.” He paused. “Was that Shannon’s house?”

  “It was a terrible fire, and she almost didn’t make it out. Smoke inhalation and her feet and ankles have third degree burns.”

  “So they transported her to Sheffield?” Clint felt bad that he hadn’t much empathy for Shannon when the nurse first mentioned her name.

  The nurse nodded. “Closest hospital to Jamestown.”

  “But, why’d you want to talk to me about Shannon?”

  “Look, I’m from around here and I know you are married to Charlie,” —she changed positions—“and felt I should speak to you about what Ms. Patterson is telling everyone.”

  Confused, Clint asked, “What do you mean?”

  The nurse looked around as if she was about to tell him a secret. She leaned toward Clint. “Shannon inferred that you and she are a couple.”

  He jolted backward in his chair. “A what?”

  “She asked me to get in touch with you and told me that you’d want to be with her at the hospital.”

  His blood boiling, Clint told himself not to overreact. “I have no idea what she’s talking about.”

  “I figured that. She’s been inconsolable for a couple of hours now, wanting to know where you are. When I heard that someone was being transported from your farm to the hospital, I didn’t want to call and disturb you. I thought it best to talk to you when you arrived.”

  “Where in the hell would that woman get the idea that she and I are a couple?” Clint asked, thinking out loud.

  “To tell you the truth, my brother Cory had a problem with Shannon a while back.”

  Clint listened.

  “Cory befriended her because he felt sorry for her, but after a month or so the rumors started flying that Shannon was telling everyone they were getting married.”

  “But they weren’t,” Clint added.

  “Not even close. He wasn’t the least bit interested in her as a girlfriend or a wife. And when Cory wouldn’t take her calls, she wouldn’t leave him alone.” She lowered her voice. “Shannon has no idea who I am because our family never met her and I’m married, so my last name isn’t the same as Cory’s. That’s why I felt it best to talk to you in person. My feeling is that she’s not quite…” she stopped.

  “Right in the head?” Clint asked. “I’m starting to be a believer, too.”

  “That wasn’t very professional of me. I’m not a psychiatrist, but—”

  “Neither am I, but it doesn’t take an education to see when someone’s off their rocker.”

  The nurse covered her mouth and giggled. “Sorry, but you’re right.”

  “Please give Ms. Patterson my condolences and tell her that I will not be stopping by to see her.” He stood. “Thank you for sharing this information with me. It explains a lot.”

  “Will do. And I apologize.”

  Clint waved a hand in the air as he walked to the front desk. “It’s not you who should apologize.”

  Clint was fed up with everyone and everything. He wanted to strangle Shannon Patterson and, as for Winston Smith, he was almost positive that Charlie had lied about him. But why?

  “Mind if I use your phone?” Clint asked Mrs. Gillespie.

  She turned the phone around toward him. “Just dial nine for an outside line.”

  When he heard Charlie voice, Clint lost it. He didn’t give a rip if anyone overheard him.

  “Charlie,” he said enraged, “just who the hell is Winston Smith?”

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

  “DON’T YOU DARE LIE TO ME,” Clint said sternly. “I want to know who this Winston guy is.”

  Charlie knew it was only a matter of time before he found out who Winston was. “I’ll tell you, but first I—”

  “I want to know now!”

  His anger startled her. Clint rarely got upset. “I need to tell you in person.”

  “I’m at the hospital to see your so-called cousin,” Clint said.

  “The hospital? Why?”

  “I can’t talk about it right now.”

  “Is he okay?” What had happened? There was no way she could tell her Clint the truth. Not now. He was too angry.

  “How is he? What’s going on?” Charlie asked, and then added, “Never mind, I’ll come see him myself.”

  “Stop avoiding my question,” Clint said.

  “Clint, I’ll tell you, but not over the phone. Where’s Mira?” she asked changing the subject.

  “At a friend’s. Oh, and, by the way, our friend Shannon Patterson is in the hospital, too.”

  Charlie was confused. “Visiting Winston?”

  “Nope. She was brought by ambulance last night.”

  “Good God, what happened to her?” Charlie put her hand on the back of her neck, feeling a headache coming on again.

  “Guess her house caught on fire.”

  “Was that hers?” Charlie remembered seeing a house in Jamestown that had burned to the ground, but didn’t hear whose home it was.

  “Yes.”

  “Is she all right?” Although there was no love lost over Shannon Patterson, Charlie didn’t wish her any harm.

  “Said something about third-degree burns, but yes, she’s going to be fine.”

  “I’m glad to hear that.”

  “Where?”

  “Where what?” Charlie asked.

  “Where do you want to meet?”

  Charlie couldn’t think. “I don’t want to meet in public.”

  “I’ll come to your parents?”

  “No. They’ve had enough. I’m trying to protect them.”

  “Then, where, Charlie? I have to get off the phone.”

  “Winston’s hotel room. He won’t mind if we meet there. I’ll go see him and then meet you in the parking lot at say”—she looked at her watch and saw it was 9:30—“11:30. Would that work?”

  “I’ll be there,” Clint told her and then hung up without saying goodbye.

  “Winston,” Charlie said when she came into his room. The hospital bed was cranked up and he was sitting up. “What’s going on?” He looked haggard; his gray hair hung to his shoulders, the dark circles under his eyes prominent.

  “Close the door,” he told her.

  Winston grinned as Charlie walked toward him. “Now you know what I look like without makeup.”

  Charlie laughed. Even though she’d just met him a couple of days ago Charlie felt a bond. “Well, your hair could use a little conditioner.” She put a hand down on the side of his bed. “Are you all right?”

  “Yes, considering.” He reached over, picked up a glass of water on his bedside table and took a sip.

  “Considering?”

  “You need to know what happened last night.”

  After he explained that he’d channeled her and what had happened when he found Mira, he hesitated before continuing. “It’s Faith, not Mira who’s causing the problems.”

  Feeling light-headed, she said, “You’re sure.”

  “Yes.”

  “But how—”

  “I have no idea how this happened.” When Winston changed positions, he let out a sigh.

  “You sure you’re okay?” Charlie placed a gentle hand over his. “Want me to call a nurse?”

  “No, I want to talk to you with a clear head. Mira’s in trouble.” He stared into Charlie’s eyes. “Faith says it’s her turn to be with Daddy.”

  Charlie was concerned about Winston. His voice was weary and Charlie wondered if he was physically up to what she’d got him into.

  “I’m surprised Faith let me come back.”

  “What do you mean, let you come back?”

  “Faith holds all the power. Once you’re in her world, she’s in control.”

  Charlie was trying to put all of this togeth
er. “Why does Faith hate me?”

  “She said something about how you don’t love her as much as you do Mira,” Winston answered.

  “Of course, I love her.” Charlie’s eyes welled with tears. She couldn’t help but feel envious that Winston had been with both Mira and Faith. Charlie had only been able to day dream about what it would be like to be with both of her girls at the same time.

  “Where is she? Mira?” Charlie held her breath.

  “It’s the damnedest thing.” Winston shook his head. “Somehow Faith created a world from things Mira likes. There’s an ocean, a forest with a cottage that looks like the house in Hansel and Gretel, and balloons floating in the sky.”

  Charlie tried to envision Faith’s world. “If anyone else was telling me this,” Charlie said, “I would say they were completely off their rocker. Can I go there? And be with Mira?”

  “Not unless you have the gift of reading minds. There’s no other way to reach Mira.”

  Charlie couldn’t begin to understand what Winston was telling her. “How could it be imaginary if you were there?”

  “The human mind is amazing.” Winston tapped a finger on the side of his head. “The brain is what controls someone’s reality. And Faith took me into her reality.”

  “In my heart I knew she wasn’t Mira.” She wiped a tear off her cheek. “How do we get her back?”

  He spread his hands apart. “I have a plan, but…”

  “You don’t know if it will work.”

  He nodded.

  “How is Mira?”

  “I’m not going to lie to you, Charlie.” He met her gaze. “She’s not good.”

  “You mean emotionally?”

  Winston hesitated. “That and she’s weak.”

  When he looked away, Charlie realized what Winston was trying to tell her. “We could lose her forever, couldn’t we, Winston?”

  “Mira’s lost hope that she’ll ever come home again.”

  All Charlie ever wanted to do is to protect Mira. And now her child was out there somewhere trying to survive. “Oh god, Winston. Do you think it would help if I talk to Faith?” Charlie asked.