The Water Baby

by Roz Denny Fox

  “Why would I? Daisy, I thought you…I thought we… Hell, I hate being stuck in this hospital. Listen, it’s late, but I’ll track them down and tell her to get back to your place. Dammit, Daisy, I had a lot I wanted to discuss with you now that I’m back among the living. Do you mind if I call back later to talk?”

  “Were you planning to tell me that you’d hired Daniel?”

  The phone line crackled with static. “So, he saw you? I didn’t know—he hasn’t come back here. Are you upset that he’s leaving?”

  “Yes. No. I mean, Daniel’s his own boss. Actually I hope it works out for both of you. He sold his boat, you know.”

  “You are angry.”

  “I’m not. It strikes me as odd, that’s all. There’s no love lost between you two, and I can’t help wondering why you’d hire someone you disliked.”

  “Hmm,” he said noncommittally. “Are you all battened down? I don’t much care for what they’re saying on TV. Will this storm be bad?”

  “Hmm.” She answered him the same way. “When you locate your mother, tell them to stay put for the night. Miss Ella could turn out to be a record-breaker.”

  “What? Who’s Miss Ella?”

  “Our hurricane—the one you’re calling a storm. Goodbye, Temple.” She hung up and stroked Pipsqueak’s ears. Maybe she had been a little miffed. But miffed or not, she worried about Temple and Rebecca. Outside, the wind had begun to pick up.

  Daisy mulled over what he’d said—that he hadn’t meant his mother to take Rebecca at all. So lost was Daisy in her thoughts that she didn’t pay any attention to the fact that Pipsqueak and Troublemaker had hopped down and slunk under the couch.

  The lights flickered once, and that was what eventually pulled her from her reverie. But her new electrical system held. Something else to tell Temple when he called back. Daisy found she actually looked forward to their next chat. She’d make sure she was more clearheaded, though.

  The windows rattled viciously. Daisy got up and hobbled over to turn off the television. While she was up, she took her medicine—her foot had begun to throb. She moved to the couch and plumped one pillow for her foot, then settled another at the opposite end for her head. She brought the phone close, waiting for his call, but even so, it wasn’t long before her eyes drifted shut.

  Surely by now Temple’s found his mother, she mused, fighting sleep. There weren’t so many hotels in town that he couldn’t have called them all by now. She was disappointed, but he must have decided to skip calling her back.

  The wind lulled her to sleep.

  Suddenly the phone rang at Daisy’s side and jerked her awake. Heart pounding like a jackhammer, she failed in her first attempt to find the instrument. It rang twice more. When she finally hauled it to her ear with a shaky hand, Temple was already midsentence.

  “I know it’s late and I probably shouldn’t disturb you. But I found my mother. Or, rather, she found me. She’s beside herself. Apparently Rebecca’s having a nightmare. God, Daisy, I heard her screaming, and I don’t have any idea what to do.”

  “Where is she?” Daisy’s voice sounded groggy from sleep. “I’ll go right now.”

  “Honey, you can’t. Have you looked outside? Rain’s pounding hell out of us from every angle, and there’re eighty-mile-an-hour winds. It’s only advice I want, sweetheart.”

  “What time is it?” Daisy rubbed the sleep from her eyes.

  “A little after two. Why?”

  “I’ll call the weather bureau and find out when the eye of the storm is due to pass over the city. I’ll have ten or twelve minutes to get to the hotel during the calm. Are they at the Galvestonian?”

  “No. The Galvez. But you can’t go. It’s too dangerous. Daisy, I can’t tell you how much it means to me that you’d even offer.”

  “Temple—think. The hotel sits close to the surf. The pounding waves may trigger Rebecca’s memory of the accident. What if she remembers everything and goes to pieces?”

  “Then I’ll go. They can check me out of here now. You said the doctor told you to stay off that foot.”

  “You don’t know hurricanes like I do, Temple,” she argued. “Besides, I know which streets are safe. There’ll be limbs down and streets flooded.”

  “You think that makes me feel better about your going out in it? Daisy, don’t even think it. If something happened to you, I couldn’t stand it.”

  She couldn’t take time now to revel in the meaning behind those words. “It won’t. I promise. Call your mother back and tell her to hang on. Tell her just to rock Rebecca and sing. Oh, what room are they in? I’ll call her.”

  “Room 215, but-”

  “Second floor? Great. I’ll give you a jingle when I get there. And Temple, trust me. I love Rebecca, too, you know?”

  For a minute there was more static on the line. Then in a voice ragged with feeling, he said, “I love you, Daisy Sloan. You sit tight, because I intend to tell you again and again. Rebecca’s my daughter. I’m going, and that’s final.”

  “No, Temple. Listen to me.” Daisy’s hands shook so hard she dropped the phone. She dared not think about what he’d just said. When she picked up the receiver again, she discovered the line had gone dead.

  She rattled the plunger several times. Blast and damn! No dial tone, either. That meant she couldn’t call him back. Nor could she call the weather bureau. She’d have to go on instinct.

  Hopping on one foot, she made her way to the front door, opening it just a crack to listen. The wind howled across the porch and almost ripped the door from her grasp. Rain came down in sheets and soon soaked the arm and leg she’d braced against the casing to help her keep hold of the door. This might be trickier than she’d thought. But she loved Rebecca Wyatt and her father. All her life Daisy had dreamed of being part of just such a family. This was what family members did for one another. Amid laughter and love, they took risks. Right now, that meant braving Hurricane Ella to rescue her water baby again.

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  HURRICANES CAME with a howl peculiar to the beast. Daisy clung to the doorknob, using both hands to keep it from being wrenched away. She listened with a practiced ear for the slightest nuance that would indicate the approaching eye of the storm. The humidity was oppressive. Tendrils of hair clung to her forehead and neck. The instant she sensed a lessening of the wind’s velocity or a decrease in the driving rain, she knew she’d have to move fast.

  What was Temple doing now? she wondered. His threat to go out in this storm terrified her. Surely he wouldn’t be so foolish. She had lived with hurricanes all her life. While he might have encountered a few at his tropical resorts, she doubted he’d learned the intricacies of navigating in one. The biggest problem Daisy saw was the need to hurry. Her ability to move fast was greatly curtailed by her injured foot.

  There—a subtle drop in humidity, a slight decrease in the wind. Daisy whispered a quick prayer. Not for herself but Rebecca’s. The moment she heard the rain slacken, Daisy opened the door and slipped out. The night was black, and the circle of illumination from her flashlight didn’t reach far—but far enough to show ankle-deep water in areas that were normally dry. The tricky part when driving was not to let the car bottom out in a puddle and short the spark plugs. Ugh, her bandage had gotten soaked already, and she hadn’t even reached her car. In fact, she didn’t think there was a dry inch on her entire body.

  Fat raindrops followed her into the vehicle. Water ran in rivulets down her face, neck and arms. But unless she missed her guess, there was less rain pounding on the windows now. She jammed the key into the ignition and thanked her guardian angel when the engine roared to life. Her hands shook. Based on experience and the rate this storm was moving, she figured she had ten minutes max to reach the hotel before getting caught in the eyewall, which was when the most severe winds whirled at gale force. More than once she’d seen drivers misjudge and their cars tossed about like toothpicks.

  The streets were ugly. Poles were down. Streetlights ou
t, and uh-oh—a tree uprooted from old Mr. Perry’s yard had fallen across the road.

  Daisy cursed softly, made a U-turn and backtracked. This cost her precious minutes. At the next street she discovered broken electrical wires dancing against the sky like Fourth of July sparklers, and she prayed again that Temple had listened to her about the dangers that awaited on the streets.

  HE HADN’T.

  Temple stood in a phone booth in the hospital lobby, trying to get through to the police dispatcher. The night nurse refused to sign him out without a doctor’s order. She even took his wallet and car keys. Thank goodness she had to answer an urgent phone call before she thought of hiding his clothes. At any rate, he figured the police would be out in full force. Maybe one of the guys he’d come to know through Rebecca’s ordeal would drive him to the hotel.

  He had tried calling Daisy back after the line went dead. All he got was a computer message that said his call could not be completed. What did it mean? Was there trouble on the main line or had something happened at her house? He drummed his fingers on the phone housing and tried to picture the trees in her yard. They were big and old. Sturdy—he hoped.

  “This is an emergency,” he shouted at the dispatcher who’d come back on the line. “Can you patch me through to Phillips or Denton—whichever man is closest to the hospital right now? Yes, I’m aware there’s a storm.”

  Dammit! She cut him off. For a moment he stared at the receiver. Then he slammed it onto the switch hook and headed down the hall.

  He’d simply have to walk. Apparently Daisy had been right about the eye of the hurricane giving relief as it passed over the city. “Oh, no.” The lobby doors were locked and boarded over. Temple recalled seeing a fire door in the basement, off the lab. A couple of the techs had sneaked out that way for a smoke. If the door wasn’t bolted, he’d sneak out, too.

  It wasn’t, and as luck would have it, no one stopped him. Outside, it was almost eerie. Temple hitched his sling into a more comfortable position and angled across the parking lot at a fast jog. It was the absence of traffic noise that made it feel as if he were on another planet, he decided. No cars and no people out walking. His footsteps echoed, except when he landed in puddles, which he seemed to do with regularity. Before long, his shoes and socks were soaked, and his jeans to the knees.

  He refused to think about his discomfort, or about how out of shape he was. Damn, but he was pushing thirty-five. Not exactly rocking-chair time, but too old for this jumping-over-tall-buildings-in-a-single-bound crap, he thought as he was forced to slow his pace and catch his breath.

  Laughter and loud music blared from a row of apartments. Daisy had been right about the parties, it seemed. Daisy. A vision of her, smiling and tousled, flitted through his mind. Where was she this minute? What was she doing? Even after the way they’d left things between them in that hotel room, she’d said she loved him. The shocker was that he loved her back. And it gave him a new lease on life.

  Uh-oh. Ahead where the streets intersected—a flood. He’d have to cross, go up a block and hope the next street over wasn’t the same. How long since they’d started into the eye? How much time did he have left? The humidity sapped his strength, and Temple knew he was beginning to tire. His breath burned in his lungs.

  DAISY COUNTED the minutes under her breath, the way she had when taking her father’s pulse. One one-thousand, two one-thousand and so forth for fifteen seconds. But it served no purpose except to make her more anxious. She’d had to backtrack to Nineteenth Street because so many streets were flooded. If it was, too, she didn’t know what she’d do. Already she’d doused her headlights to avoid a police car. They wouldn’t give a hoot about Rebecca’s nightmare; their job would be to send her back.

  “Look at that,” she muttered aloud. “Some crazy jogger crossing Nineteenth.” Lord, but joggers were a breed unto themselves. At the corner, Daisy saw the man stumble on the high curb. She had a clear view, thanks to her headlights. He threw his head back and rubbed at his chest as if he were strapped for air. Did he need help? Was he having a heart attack or something?

  Daisy knew that pulling over to ask wasn’t the smartest move she’d ever made. He could be a looter trying for a fast getaway. On the other hand, if he truly needed help and she didn’t respond, she’d never forgive herself. Cruising slowly up behind him, she hit the button that rolled down the passenger window and beeped her hom.

  Surprised, the man whirled toward the sound. He threw his right arm up to shield his eyes from the light. Daisy saw that his left was in a sling. “Temple! Oh, my God, Temple!” she screamed, and slammed on the brakes so hard the car slid on the wet street and jumped the curb. The back of her car swung toward him.

  For a second there, Temple thought some idiot was trying to run him down. A drunk? Who but a drunk would be out in a hurricane? Swearing, he dove into a doorway. Then, somehow, over his galloping heart, he heard a woman call his name.

  Daisy. “Lord,” he whispered. “She came out in this after I told her not to.” By the time Temple’s heart slowed—enough so he could make a dash for her car— she’d bounced the right wheel off the curb. In spite of having no traction on the wet pavement, she attempted to back up. Then she stopped and rolled down her window.

  Temple stuck his head in. “Daisy, all you’re doing is burning rubber. God, do you look good, though. Except that I’m not sure whether to kiss you or strangle you.”

  “Hurry and get in. We’ve got about five minutes till all hell breaks loose. I can’t believe you’re out here on foot, you idiot. Have you ever seen a tropical storm after the eye moves past?”

  He hurried around to the passenger side. He had difficulty getting the door open and then climbing in, mostly because his left arm was useless and his lungs felt like they were seared.

  Daisy didn’t wait for his answer. She tore off down the hill before he had the door shut. “What are you doing on Nineteenth? Why didn’t you drop down to Seawall?”

  “Flooding,” he said, trying to catch his breath. “Cars si-whickered, and poles down everywhere. I was going to angle across Church to Twenty-first.”

  “No good. Twenty-first is a mess. Nineteenth is our only hope.”

  “Then Nineteenth it is. Hit the juice when you get to the bottom and let her hydroplane through that standing water at the Y. Daisy, I—”

  “Save it,” she muttered. “Thank me. Kiss me. Kill me. Just wait till we get to the hotel to do it.”

  His laughter sounded like wind rustling through fallen leaves. “Never give a man three choices unless you’re a genie who can grant them. Man, being a logical animal, will invariably go straight for the last option.”

  “Look.” She pointed as her car barrelled through the deep water. “It’s the hotel parking lot.” She let the momentum carry them up into the lot. “I figure we’ve got about two minutes to get from here to the building—or forget choices.” In the distance, they could hear the waves crashing against the seawall.

  “Then let’s hustle.”

  Daisy unbuckled her seat belt and pocketed the keys. “You go ahead,” she said as he threw open his door and hopped out. “I can’t walk as fast as you.”

  He rushed around behind the car to assist her. It was the first time he’d seen her bandaged foot. “Jeez, lady. Sal said you’d stepped on a piece of glass. This looks more like you cut off your foot.”

  “It looks worse than it is.” She tried to hop, landed in a pool and almost fell.

  Temple grabbed her arm. Noting that the wind had picked up, he gave a frustrated growl, knelt and hoisted her over his good shoulder. He ignored her vociferous protests and ran toward the hotel entrance.

  “Put me down.” She pounded on his rear end with her fists. “I will not go into one of the best hotels in town slung over your shoulder like a sack of pecans.”

  “Quiet.” Temple struggled to keep from dropping her on her head. “Pecans are lumpier and they don’t talk back. So hush,” he said.

  Da
isy’s sore foot bumped his rock-hard thigh. A stabbing pain shot through her, bringing tears to her eyes. “Please put me down. Temple, you’re hurting me.”

  But because he didn’t think she could make it on her own, he only ran faster.

  The hotel had a double entrance, as did many buildings in Galveston. Vapor locks, they were called—to kee the heat or air-conditioning in and the weather out He grappled with the first door and kicked it closed just seconds before the high winds in the eyewall struck and shook the city with the fury of an angry Norse god

  As if absorbing the electrical energy that swirled around them, Temple set Daisy down, then slid the palm of his good hand into her damp hair and yanked her into a kiss. His lips softened the instant they touched hers, and they spoke of love.

  Daisy leaned into him. She ran her hands up his chest and over his shoulders, then her arms fully encircled his neck. Their sudden embrace blocked out the noise of the storm outside—and created one between them

  A doorman, a tall gangly fellow, peeked through the upper doors and cleared his throat. It was obvious that he intended to lecture the vagrants—until Temple set Daisy down on her one sneakered foot.

  “Daisy? Daisy Sloan?” The doorman sounded relieved to see someone he knew. His face brightened. “Ah—and this is your boarder. The guy from California?” he said hopefully. “His mother’s in room 215. Boy, are we glad to see you. She’s convinced we’re all gonna die.”

  “That sounds like my mother.” Temple shook his head.

  “As you can see, Mickey, I’m here, but I’m not firing on all cylinders.” Daisy indicated her bandaged foot. “Are either of your elevators working?”

  “Nope. Too dangerous in case our emergency generator goes out.”

  She sighed. “Well, I don’t relish being stuck between floors, anyway. Guess I’ll hop. It’s only two flights. Temple, you go on ahead.”

  “If it wasn’t for the fact that we don’t know what’s wrong with Rebecca, I wouldn’t mind getting stuck between floors with you,” Temple whispered.