Читать книгу Her Sister's Child - Cynthia Thomason, Cynthia Thomason - Страница 12

ONCE SHE’D LET the hospital staff coat her hands with antiseptic ointment and cover them with gauze, Julia was able to convince the emergency room nurse that she’d suffered no more ill effects from her trek into the ravine than minor cuts and bruises. The minute the doctor signed her release papers, Julia hurried to the admitting area, sounding as though she were walking on squeegees instead of shoes and leaving an embarrassing trail of mud flecks. She was going to make some maintenance people very unhappy tonight.

The receptionist at the admitting desk was the same middle-aged woman who’d assigned Julia to an examination room earlier. When she looked up from paperwork and saw her again, she wrinkled her nose. “Oh. They didn’t give you a hospital gown?”

“They tried, but I’ve got clean clothes coming…” she glanced at her wristwatch, which was still smeared with mud, and wiped the face “…any minute now.” She started to lean on the counter but thought better of leaving a residue for this woman to contend with. “Can you tell me where Cameron Birch is, please?”

The woman pointed to a set of double doors. “In there. Exam room eight if he’s not down for tests. I’ll have to buzz you in.” Julia squished her way along the row of curtained-off areas until she found Cameron’s and peeked around the drape.

He roused, slowly lifting his eyelids. “Hey. Come in.”

She moved to the side of his bed and stood looking down at him. Trying not to reveal her shock, she glossed over the dark purple bruise that had formed on his forehead and the scratches on his face and arms. Plus, he had a cumbersome half cast secured to his wrist. “So, when are they springing you?” she said.

“Not until tomorrow, maybe early afternoon.”

“And what have they poked and prodded tonight?”

“I’ve had an EKG, a chest X-ray, a CAT scan. All I’ve heard about is my wrist X-rays, and the paramedic was right. The orthopedic surgeon thinks about two hours of surgery in the morning ought to do the trick. And then I’ll have a network of miniature antennae sticking out of my arm for six weeks.”

“Well, look at the bright side. You might not have to invest in a satellite dish to keep up with Grey’s Anatomy.”

He smiled. “And there’s one more silver lining to this cloud. My handwriting’s never been any good, and now I have an excuse.”

His offhand comment took her back ten years. She remembered her surprise at discovering this minor flaw in the otherwise seemingly perfect professor. His comments on her assignments had been practically illegible, and when each paper was returned, she’d spend several minutes trying to decipher his scratch marks.

“…for the bandages on your hands?”

His voice returned her to the present. “Sorry. What did you say?”

“Your hands? Why are they bandaged?”

“A couple of giant-sized splinters mostly, from some inhospitable oak trees in the ravine.” When she saw the concern on his face, she added, “Nothing I haven’t experienced many times in the past.”

He released a long breath and shook his head. “Geez, Julia, when I think about what you did, what almost happened down there…”

She held up her hand. “Don’t go in that gully again, Cameron. It’s over, happy ending and all.”

“But there has to be a way I can thank you.”

She smiled. “You did. Ten years ago. You gave me an A.”

“You earned an A.” He pushed himself up with his good elbow, the movement obviously causing him pain. He tried to be cavalier about it with a forced grin. “I might have cracked ribs, too. But, anyway, about showing my appreciation, I may have to thank you twice since I have to ask one more favor.”

“Oh?”

“I’ll need a ride to my grandfather’s place when they let me go.”

His request dumbfounded her in light of his injuries. “You’re not thinking of staying alone on top of the mountain while you heal, are you?”

He shrugged his shoulder, then winced. “Sure. I’ll manage.” He must have sensed the doubt in her eyes, because he added, “I need some time on that mountain, Julia. I’ve planned it for months. I’ve taken a sabbatical from the university.” He drew his lips into a determined line, pulling in a deep breath. “I think Whisper Mountain will heal me, broken bones and all.”

She wondered what he meant by “and all,” and decided that maybe it was Cameron’s spirit that needed mending. She stood. “Okay, I’ll pick you up tomorrow afternoon.” She jotted a phone number on a pad by his bed. “Just call the store when you’re ready.”

JULIA COULDN’T STOP thinking about Cameron. Restless and impatient, she strode to the automatic doors of the waiting room, stepped into the cool night air, came back, then sat in three different chairs while staring at CNN on the television. Mostly she wondered what could have gone wrong in Cameron’s life that made him admit to needing this time on the mountain.

She thought about her own life, as well, and the months before she’d finally seen a doctor. She’d never been able to identify one isolated problem that had eventually sent her to him for help. She’d only known that something hadn’t been right in her life, and she wasn’t successfully dealing with it. A major part of her downward slide had been the breakup of a five-year relationship. She’d believed that Kevin had been the one. She’d pinned her hopes on him. Her future, her friendships and her weekends. They’d been inseparable for at least three years, one rarely seen without the other, two like-minded souls content to imagine a lifetime together.

Until suddenly she was the only one imagining.

When she’d lightheartedly brought up the subject of making their relationship permanent and legal, he’d found nothing funny about it. Nor anything remotely serious.

Julia looked up at the clock in the waiting room. 10:15 p.m. Had her mother forgotten about her? It was too late now to bring Katie out. Julia walked to the wall of windows and stared at the near empty parking lot. And her thoughts returned once more to Cameron.

Had he been the one to initiate divorce proceedings with his wife? Had she disappointed him, or had it been the other way around? Had the breakup been amiable? Julia supposed some could be, between two rational people who decided that ending a relationship would result in improved lives for both.

She recalled the day she’d gotten the prescription for antidepressants. Kevin wasn’t the only reason she’d seen a doctor. There had been problems at work, frantic calls from her mother, no calls from her sister. And nearly everyone Julia knew in Manhattan was on some kind of antistress medication. Pills were the big city quick fix that many people relied on.

Headlights veered from the main road and traveled up the drive to the hospital entrance, saving Julia from a potential bout with her conscience. She watched the approaching car closely, hoping to identify it as her mother’s dependable old Ford. “Thank goodness,” she said, when Cora pulled up to the drop-off area, and she went outside to meet her.

Cora got out, handed over a bundle of clothes, stared at Julia’s hands and gasped. “Oh, my heavens, Julia.”

“It’s nothing, Mama. The hospital staff overreacted. I can remove these bandages in the morning.” Too tired to control her impatience, she asked, “Where have you been?” She looked down at her soiled garments. “I feel like I’ve been wearing this stuff for weeks.”

Cora frowned and Julia felt bad. She didn’t mean to take her foul mood out on her mother. She considered going inside to a restroom to change clothes but decided she wouldn’t bother now. “Did you lose power at the cabin?”

“No, but I had to make arrangements for Katie,” Cora explained. “The time just got away from me, and I didn’t want to make her come along this late.”

Julia put the clothes in the backseat and did the best she could to dust dried particles of mud from her jeans. “I’ll just wear these home now.” Once in the car, Julia asked her mother “So what did you do with Katie?”

“I put her to bed and called Rosalie. She was happy to watch her while I came for you.”

Julia made a mental note to thank the neighbor who also helped out at the store during the busy season.

“Unfortunately, Rosie had to pick up her supper dishes first,” Cora said. “She was running late because the TV kept showing bits about the accident.”

Julia settled into the seat and closed her eyes. All at once her bones felt as if they were melting into little puddles around her. She rested her head back and said, “Oh.”

“You were on television. That lady reporter talked about what happened and they showed you.” Cora pulled out of the hospital parking lot. “I wish they’d let you go in and comb your hair first.”

“Yeah, that would have been nice,” Julia said absently, knowing a comb wouldn’t have helped much.

“So how is Cameron?” Cora asked.

Julia looked over at her mother. “Pretty banged up. He’s having surgery on his wrist tomorrow morning. Tonight, he mostly had tests.”

Cora nodded with understanding. “They do that these days. Make sure the ticker’s working right, your blood pressure’s normal, all that stuff, before you go under the knife. I suppose it’s good they take such care.”

Through Julia’s haze of exhaustion, Cora’s voice seemed to drone on in another dimension. “I suppose,” she said.

“I guess he’s going back to Raleigh now that he’s had the accident.”

“Actually, no. He’s asked me to pick him up tomorrow and take him to his grandfather’s place.”

Cora looked at Julia and quickly returned her attention to the road. “He’s staying up there?”

“That’s what he said.”

“Pure foolishness.”

“I kind of thought so.”

“What time will you get him?”

“In the afternoon. He’s going to call the store when they release him.”

“I’m glad it’s not the morning,” Cora said. “I told Katie you were taking her to the elementary school to see about getting her enrolled.”

Suddenly alert, Julia sat up straight. “You did?”

“Yes. She needs normalcy in her life, a schedule.”

Julia couldn’t argue. “How did she react?”

“She said she didn’t need to go to school. I hope you can find a way to change her mind, Julia. Your idea with the bubble bath seemed to work well the other day.”

Julia sighed. “I’ll think of something, Mama.”

AT NINE O ’CLOCK Thursday morning, while she waited for Katie to get dressed, Julia called the Vickers County Medical Center to get an update on Cameron’s condition. The operator switched her to the second floor station where a nurse reported that Cameron was currently in surgery. She suggested that Julia call back in an hour or so.

Julia tried to put her concern for Cameron out of her mind as she and Katie drove down Whisper Mountain and headed for Glen Springs Elementary. Katie hadn’t spoken a word, so Julia attempted to break the ice. “I’m excited to see the school,” she said. “I was very happy there as a student.”

Katie stared out the window.

“Did you enjoy school in Tennessee?” she asked.

“It was okay.”

“Were your teachers nice?”

“I guess.”

Julia drummed her fingers on the steering wheel. “You know, one thing about living behind the store is that you don’t get the opportunity to meet other kids. We’re kind of isolated on the mountain. I suppose that’s why I always looked forward to school.”

Katie knotted her hands together.

“I’ll bet you miss your friends in Tennessee.”

Katie turned her head, stared out the side window. “I have you and Grandma.”

Julia gripped the wheel tighter. Oh, baby. But I’m not always going to be here.

The principal of Glen Springs Elementary was a staid though seemingly competent individual who said he’d spoken to Cora and he understood the circumstances that made Katie’s enrollment unique. While Katie waited in the outer office, he assured Julia that the staff would do everything in their power to make her niece’s assimilation stress-free. Then he instructed his secretary to send Katie into his office.

Her eyes downcast and her hands fisted at her sides, Katie walked stiffly to the wooden chair on the other side of the principal’s desk.

Mr. Dickson interlaced his fingers on top of his desk, smiled and said, “So, you’re Katie.”

She didn’t respond. Julia wasn’t surprised. It was a rhetorical question.

“We’re very happy to welcome you as a Glen Springs Chipmunk,” he said.

Katie stared at her hands. Her feet, a clear six inches above the floor, began to swing.

“You can start tomorrow.” The principal waited for a reaction, predictably received none, and prompted, “How does that sound, young lady?”

Katie turned to Julia. “I don’t need to go to school,” she insisted.

“I was hoping that perhaps you’d want to, honey,” Julia said.

“I don’t. I want to stay with you and Grandma.”

Julia smiled. “We’re okay for a lot of things, but we can’t help you learn everything you need to know. You have to have a real teacher for that.”

Mr. Dickson added his sensible argument. “And the government requires that you attend school. You wouldn’t want your aunt and grandmother to get in trouble for keeping you out, would you?”

Katie stared up at him, her eyes crinkling in determination. “I can homeschool. Lots of kids do.”

Julia couldn’t help admiring Katie’s quick wits. Unfortunately homeschooling wasn’t possible for her niece. Once Julia returned to Manhattan, Cora wouldn’t have time to oversee lessons with her responsibilities at the store. “There are always options, Katie,” she said. “But I think we should try this one first.”

When Katie started to protest, she said, “And tomorrow will be just right. It’s Friday. You can attend one day and have the whole weekend to tell us about your class and the kids you met. What do you think of that idea?”

Katie didn’t appear to think much of it at all, so Julia tossed in one more selling point. “And after school, we can stay late, visit the library and take out some books.”

Baby steps, Julia. One inch at a time and eventually a foot is gained.

“We could do that, I guess,” Katie said.

Julia stood, extending her hand to Mr. Dickson. “We’ll be back tomorrow. In the meantime, if you would consult the school’s guidance counselor about Katie as we discussed, I’d be grateful.”

“Certainly. We’ll see you ladies in the morning.”

When they left the school five minutes later, Katie took Julia’s hand. “What are we going to do now?” she asked.

Julia paused, considering the answer. “Excellent question. I’m thinking we should go to the mall, have a snack at the food court and buy you some new clothes, maybe some especially sparkly things.” She smiled down at Katie. “Just in case Friday goes well, we have to be prepared for Monday.”

And then I’ll pick up Cameron at the hospital and see if he’s come up with a better option for his situation, she thought. Before starting her car, Julia called the hospital on her cell phone. The second floor nurse assured her that Cameron had come through the surgery just fine and was resting in the recovery room.

WITH SEVERAL shopping bags in the backseat of her rented Toyota and ice cream still sticky on their fingers, Julia and Katie headed up Whisper Mountain. Julia pulled into the gravel lot of Cora’s General Store and parked next to the cube van belonging to Sunny Vale Bakery. “Have you ever met Oscar?” she asked Katie.

“No.”

“Then you’re in for a treat, maybe literally, although you’ll have to save it for after dinner now.”

The store was crowded for a weekday afternoon. Cora had a line at the cash register, and Rosalie was helping customers pick out native-made jewelry from the glass showcase. A couple sat at one of the booths in the snack bar chowing down on Cora’s famous hot dogs, “the best on Whisper Mountain,” according to the sign on the store’s front porch. Of course, nowhere could the customers read that Cora’s hot dogs were the only ones offered, since the store was the only stop between the town of Glen Springs and the top of the mountain.

A middle-aged man with thick salt-and-pepper hair looked up from a display shelf where he was stocking prepackaged goodies labeled with the Sunny Vale trademark, a bright sun rising over a meadow. “Hey, Julia,” he called. “Good to see you.”

“Same here, Oscar.” She walked over, gave him a quick hug and stepped back so he could see Katie. “I’d like you to meet my niece.”

The man smiled at Katie. “I heard there was another golden-haired Sommerville lady here,” he said, his old-country accent as charming as always. Oscar Sobriato was proud of his Italian heritage. He rubbed his thumb over his chin and gave serious consideration to the items he’d arranged so far. “I wonder what this little one would like, hmm? Do you suppose she wants a MoonPie?”

Julia laughed. Oscar had been on this route for only five years, but legends were passed down forever on Whisper Mountain. “I know her to be a cookie fanatic,” she said.

“Pick out what you like,” Oscar said, waving Katie closer to the goodies. While Katie studied her choices, Oscar took Julia’s arm and led her down the aisle. Placing his thick, soft hands on the sides of her face, he said, “I’m so sorry, Julia. I remember when you were here for your papa’s funeral. Such a short time ago, and now Cora can’t even bury her daughter in the family tradition.”

“Thanks, Oscar. Folks have stopped by all week. That has helped.”

He folded his arms. “How are they doing—your mama and the little one?”

“Okay, I guess. Katie is so quiet. That really worries me. And Mama…” She tried to give the impression that she wasn’t overly concerned about Cora. “Well, Mama is Mama. She’s sad but trying to cope.”

Oscar glanced over at the cash register. “She’s got a strong constitution, that one.”

Julia’s eyes widened. My mama?

Oscar thumped his chest. “And a heart as big as this mountain. She loves with it and grieves with it, and always takes care of those around her.”

Julia followed his gaze, tried to see her mother as Oscar did. She supposed she could agree with the heart part of his description, but the rest of it was up for debate. When she looked back at Oscar, she realized his attention hadn’t wavered from Cora.

“But she looks tired,” he said. “And too thin.” He patted his own round belly. “She needs to eat more. Pasta, some hearty Italian sausage. And a few napoleons wouldn’t hurt, either.” He shook a finger at Julia. “You see to it, okay?”

“Okay.” As she walked back to Katie, Julia watched her mother with the customers. She smiled as she always had, but the gesture was void of any real feeling. She engaged in small talk, but her voice sounded flat, toneless. All the Sommerville women had blond hair, but Cora’s lacked any sign of a healthy luster. Her blunt cut hung straight to her shoulders and was streaked with coarse gray strands that made her pale face appear washed-out, older than her fifty-eight years. An idea occurred to Julia. There had been an aisle at Pope’s Drugstore for Katie. And there was one for Cora, too.

Julia settled Katie at a booth with a coloring book and crayons. When the last customer paid his bill, she went to the register. “Has Cameron called, Mama?”

“No, not yet. But someone was here from the towing company. He said they were going to try to bring Cameron’s car up from the ravine later on today. But he figured it was a total loss.”

Julia sighed. “I thought it would be.” She looked at her watch. “It’s almost one o’clock. I think I’ll just drive over to the hospital and see if he’s ready to go.”

“Okay.”

Julia waved at Katie and smiled at Oscar, who was taking his sweet time stacking muffins and cupcakes on the shelves. Had he always given Cora’s General Store such special attention? Julia was suddenly quite certain that Oscar found more to like at Cora’s than just the invigorating ride up the mountain.

HAVING FOUND OUT Cameron’s location from the receptionist, Julia took the elevator to the second floor and headed toward his room. Her pulse increased with each step down the quiet hallway. Though she hadn’t fantasized about Cameron for years, just hearing his voice in the store last night had awakened familiar emotions. And imagining him at the bottom of the ravine had propelled her to risk her own well-being in an effort to save him.

She stopped outside Cameron’s door when she heard a voice with a clear take-charge attitude. “You simply can’t handle your immediate medical needs by yourself, Mr. Birch,” a woman said. “Those fixator insertion points must be cleaned and dressed daily until your doctor says otherwise.”

“That’s nonsense,” Cameron argued. “I’ve had a wrist operation, not open-heart surgery.”

“But it’s your right wrist, and you’re right-handed. You can’t manage your care with your left hand.” The woman sighed. “And need I remind you that you also have a concussion and two cracked ribs. Even simple movements in the next few days will cause you pain.”

Cameron groaned. “Isn’t there a form I can sign that allows me to accept responsibility for myself? I promise you, Miss Winston, I won’t hold the hospital liable for anything that happens to me once I walk out this door.” His declaration was followed by a whistled intake of breath. Julia’s own breath hitched in sympathy with his obvious stab of pain.

“Your doctor won’t release you until we’ve established home care, which, unfortunately is proving quite difficult considering your remote locale. None of our regular attendants will commit to traveling that mountain road. It’s known to be quite dangerous in iffy weather conditions.” She paused. “I guess I don’t have to remind you of that.”

Julia stepped into the room just as Cameron tossed his head back on the pillow and stared at the ceiling. “This stalemate is ridiculous,” he said. “I can take care of myself. I don’t need anyone to make that drive every day just to…”

He turned his head, spotted Julia and pushed himself upright. Just as they had so many years ago, his greengold eyes seemed to penetrate her to the core. Breaking eye contact, she caught her first glimpse of Cam’s “antennae,” the system of fixators sticking out of his wrist, as well as the thick gauze and sling supporting a contraption that looked more like a throwback to medieval times than an example of modern medicine. When Cameron fell back against the mattress, Julia realized he wasn’t going to pull off any sort of macho display.

“Thank goodness, Julia,” he said. “Will you tell this well-meaning hospital administrator that you are taking me home, and that you will see that I am appropriately tucked in and medicated?”

Miss Winston seemed relieved. “Are you a health-care professional?” she asked Julia.

Cameron darted a quick warning glance at Julia and followed it with a blatant lie. “Of course she is…”

“No, I’m not,” Julia admitted before he could say anything more. “But I did agree to take Mr. Birch home today. I’m staying on Whisper Mountain myself for a while, so it’s no problem. I’m not concerned about making the drive.”

Cameron arched his brows. “There, you see? I’m all set. No worries.”

“I’m sorry, but you still need medical care. I’m waiting for one more home-care person to report back to me. If she doesn’t agree to make the trip daily, then you’ll have to come into the hospital every day or make arrangements for more accessible accommodations.”

Cameron shook his head. “I can’t do that.”

Miss Winston picked up a cell phone, which had been sitting on her clipboard. “Then we wait.”

He blew out a long, frustrated breath. “There has to be something we can do.”

Julia inched to the doorway. “I’ll come back later when all the details have been worked out.”

He nodded. “You might as well.”