She woke hearing Ray moving around the dark room, gathering his clothes, dressing. He was leaving her, leaving for good. She loved him-always had but she understood what had to be. She’d needed to grow up and stop believing in fairy tales. People could love but want different things. They could love but not be meant to be together. Ray was the first person to ever make her feel cared for and valued. In the emotional desert of her life on the farm with her work, weary mother, Ray had been there for her sensing the woman beneath the child. She had to embrace her past to move forward. She debated pretending to sleep, but decided that was cowardly so she opened a bleary eye and sighed.
“You okay,” he whispered softly, his face level with hers.
“Fine,” she said, her heart twisting inside out. This felt so final.
“Han, I’m sorry. I wish things were different.” He took her hand in his, squeezed it.
She wished love could be enough too. But, it wasn’t that simple. Nothing ever was. “Don’t you dare apologize, because it was good, right and it was healing.” She blinked back the tears burning behind her eyes as she realized it had been. She wasn’t afraid anymore. It hadn’t hurt and she’d actually enjoyed most of it.
“That wasn’t what I was apologizing for.” He said he would never forget this, or her. That he loved her. That he always would. That if she ever needed anything she should call or come home. That he hoped he was doing right by her now, agreeing to let her live her own life. He offered her money. She declined and promised to write sometime.
“If I were a better man, I’d leave Em and the farm behind. I’m selfish—”
“Shhh, it’s not selfish to want the things your soul demands,” she said, putting her fingers to his lips, trying to swallow back the emotions welling up inside of her. “Working the land means as much to you as singing does to me. You’d be lost without it.”
“Yeah, but you are my soul too. Maybe I should tell Em and come back—try.”
She considered then rejected. “No, you’d be a fish outta water here, miserable and I’d be miserable knowing I was responsible. You belong there and I belong here now.”
“I reckon you’re right.” He hugged her tight to his chest, held her long enough that by the time they moved apart, both of their gazes were steadier. “I will never forget you—this.”
“Same here,” she said taking a deep breath. She was sad for what couldn’t be, but somehow better. “I’m not seeing you out the door. Okay?” She touched his face, memorized it with her fingers.
He caught her off guard with a gentle kiss that had everything to do with feelings, with love and nothing to do with sex.
She smiled, stretched and hugged him ferociously. “I’m glad we had this time.”
He stood. “Me too, but I reckon I’d better git while I still feel so damn noble and all.”
She agreed, laughing. “I reckon you’d better.”
They stared at one another for a long minute—three and without preamble he left. She listened as he made his way to the door, a knot in her chest. They had different paths to follow and their parting was inevitable and no one would ever understand that Ray wasn’t just her rapist; he was someone she loved, the man who had helped make her who she was, good or bad. She heard the door open, close and with it he took a piece of her heart. Swallowing hard, she turned her face into her pillow and let go of the tears she’d been holding back for so long.
11 CHAPTER ELEVEN
“Miss Hannah,” said the doorman at Meg’s apartment. “I suspect you didn’t hear but Miss Meg done got rushed to the hospital yesterday.”
“What, why?” she asked motionless.
“Mail was pilin’ up the last two days. She didn’t answer the door to get the flowers she gets every Monday. Missy Sims, that’s the neighbor lady saw Miss Meg come home feelin’ poorly so we done knocked and knocked. The manager gave us pardon ta use da pass key ta open the door. Poor missy was lyin’ in her bed, weak as a kitten and pale as a ghostie, bleedin’ somethin’ fierce.”
“Bleeding? Was she attacked. Robbed?” This couldn’t be happening.
“Not attacked, but injured,” said Pete shaking his head, clearing his throat as he nervously met her eyes. “Done lost a chile I’m guessin’.”
Hannah blinked hard, dumbfounded. What child? Meg hadn’t been with child. If she had been, wouldn’t she have mentioned it? Hannah recalled Meg’s recent health woes and their last conversation. She’d assumed Meg was just getting over the flu and missing Alec. But, maybe she would have said something to her IF she hadn’t been so wrapped up in her own problems?
Her mind raced. She’d go to the hospital, to Meg. An image of Meg lying pale and bleeding chilled her. She’d call Tony’s and cancel. It was the second time she’d ever cancelled a performance, but nothing else mattered now but Meg. She hailed a cab.
Blinking back tears in the cab, Hannah willed herself not to fall apart. That wouldn’t help anyone, least of all Meg who always offered her unconditional comfort and strength.
She hadn’t been able to reach Meg on the phone for three days and was glad she’d had the sense to go there. How? Why? Sensible Meg calculated the odds and always had a plan. She would have loathed the idea of having a child.
Rosie, Mike and Alec were away. She was the only one here and frightened. Meg wouldn’t die. She wouldn’t, couldn’t. Could she?
When the cab screeched to a stop, she threw money at the cabbie and got out. She ran up the path and through the doors of the six story brick New City Hospital.
She hated hospitals. She tried to ignore the unpleasant smells of death, illness and disinfectant. Her two inch heels loudly clicked staccato on the hardwood floors. She hurried past the solarium, past tight lipped visitors seated with robed patients and bronze wall tablets of stodgy, but important benefactors. She was immured in need and panic. She needed to see and touch Meg. To know her best friend in the whole world would be alright, that they’d talk and laugh again but fear…that dark, icy invader lay in the shadows filling unguarded moments. It forced her to think that nothing she hoped or did might change what would be. That something terrible was about to happen and she wouldn’t be able to stop it no matter how hard she tried. Were her prayers, wishes and desires powerless to stop what had already begun?
Twenty minutes later, the good news was Meg was still holding on. The bad news, barely. The doctor had been sympathetic, but blunt. Meg was weak and fighting a dangerous infection. She had lost a lot of blood. She’d indeed had an illegal abortion and her condition was critical. Everything that could be done was being done, but her life was in the Lord’s hands now.
Meg could die. Might die. Panic bubbled inside Hannah. She couldn’t lose Meg. “Can I sit with her…please?”
“It could be hours before she wakes up…Miss…if…” The rest remained unspoken, but Hannah stood her ground. She was the closest thing to a relative Meg had here. And no matter how painful or difficult, she wouldn’t fail Meg now, hospital policy be damned. She clutched her purse with claw-like fingers. “I’ve got to be with her.”
The two nurses exchanged a look, but one nodded. “I imagine it wouldn’t hurt, but don’t say or do anything that might upset her. Sometimes people can hear what you are saying even if it seems they can’t.”
Hannah nodded, determined not to give Meg up without a fight. She’d remind her of all the things she had yet to live for, all the things she loved and all who loved her. Picturing Alec, she wondered briefly if she should wire him, but decided against it. After all, he was in Europe and too far away to get back soon enough. Meg might be fully recovered by the time he got back anyway. She prayed that would be so.
But, fear took a front seat when she saw Meg. She was so pale and still, sleeping in an adult crib with large white metal slats on four sides. Though her stomach lurched, she nodded at the nurse. Swallowing hard, she grabbed for the nearest chair.
She stilled her own trembling to gently grasp Meg’s hand. If she gave into
the fear as chilling as Meg’s elegantly manicured fingers were cold, they’d lose for sure. She held onto Meg’s hand as if it were a lifeline. She wouldn’t give in. Meg wouldn’t either. But, she lay so still.
Hannah sat, hating being so powerless, willing Meg to live, to open her eyes, to smile. She looked so tiny, lost in starched blankets and stacked pillows. A cold shiny metal table nearby was loaded with towels, cotton balls, vials and bottles.
Hannah shivered; scared of death who she fancifully imagined was lurking nearby, watching her with a smirk. She quietly clung to Meg’s hand. She alternately closed her eyes to pray, gently patting Meg’s hand. She whispered aloud to her about old times, good times, bad and hopefully better times to come.
“It was you gave me courage to compete with Emily, to catch up at school and not to let any obstacles get in my way. You who inspired me to be a singer, to leave home. I had no idea you were considerin’…that you needed help…I’m so sorry.” She apologized, sobbing quietly.
She wondered why Meg hadn’t confided in anyone. But was she any better? She hadn’t told Meg about Ray or why she’d been so distracted. Meg knew Ray had raped her and wouldn’t have understood why she’d willingly slept with him. But she did tell her about Johnny Gallo. That he made her all mixed up; excited, scared and lustful. And that he was a bootlegger. Ray was her past, Johnny she hoped, her future.
Tears spilled from Hannah’s eyes, smiling at what Meg might say. Wanting to hear what Meg would say.
“You were always so sure of yourself, so fearless, standing up to the kids at school in your ratty dress, befriending me, defending, helping me pull all the pieces of myself back together when I first came to Kansas City. Because of you, I got the job at The Jefferson, the best damned job I’ve ever had so far and might yet.”
Periodically the nurse, her face sympathetic, came in to check Meg’s vital signs and to take her temperature. Hannah was afraid to ask, afraid that the news might be bad, that Meg’s condition might be worsening. What did they know anyway? The doctor or the nurses didn’t know Meg, her spirit, her gumption. Meg would fight. She’d beat this. That was why she was sleeping, fighting to get back her strength. She was young and strong, she’d show them.
Each time the nurse left, Hannah began a renewed round of prayer and conversation. “And, you’ve got to get better for Alec, your darling Alec who loves you so. I’ll bet he’ll shower you with gifts when he gets back.” Alec might be married, but Meg was obviously the light of his life and he the light of hers. Despite her lonely vigils apart from him, Meg adored him. “He needs you. We all need you. Just wait until Rosie gets back and hears about how you scared me.” I am so scared.
“Please wake up already. Say something, anything.”
But the room was quiet, Meg’s breathing even and calm.
At least she isn’t in pain. Hannah sighed with relief. She couldn’t have borne that.
“Remember how we smoked cigarettes at Robert Anderson’s party? How we’d read all those stories in magazines. You were the only one who understood wanting the way I do. I envied you being so smart. I looked—look up to you.” You inspired me to push myself, to learn all I could. “I remember you tellin’ me all about the things you were going to see, to do and we’ve seen a lot already, haven’t we?” I admire you. I love you so. “There’s more left for us to do. You’ve got to fight, Meggie. I can’t go on without you. I can’t.”
Hannah placed Meg’s hand back on the blanket to flounder inside her purse for a handkerchief. Blotting her wet face, she blew her nose, powdered it and reapplied her lipstick and rouge. Shame on you being so selfish. Meg would give up the ghost for sure if she opened her eyes and saw you looking so frightful, frightened.
The clock on the wall above the bed kept ticking, but Hannah had no idea of the time. She sat grasping Meg’s hand, willing her to live.
From time to time, Meg stirred, moving slightly. Each time she did, Hannah licked her own dry lips, trying to still the frenzied clatter of her heart. Meg, open your eyes, set the world to rights again. It was amazing how fast things could change and go bottoms up in a single moment. Moments that made up a life’s store of memories.
“You always had a plan. Remember you said you’d have running water comin’ right out of your tap. Now we both take that luxury for granted. Getting sick or dying isn’t part of any plan of either of ours, you hear.” Hannah sniffed, delighted when she saw Meg stir and her eyes flutter open.
Her voice was as faint as butterfly wings. “Han…didn’t want…to be like my Ma.”
“Welcome back,” said Hannah. She was trying not to cry, but tears fell anyway. “And, don’t worry; you’re nothing like your Ma.”
Meg smiled.
Hannah smiled back, torn between staying or calling for the nurse.
Meg seemed to read her mind, gripping her hand tighter. “Don’t go…no time…want to tell you…want to—”
“Save your strength. We can talk later.”
Meg’s brown eyes opened wide, bright, too bright. Her voice was weak. “I screwed up.”
Hannah shook her head. She assured Meg it was fine, that she’d be fine. “I wish you would have told me. I should have been a better friend, I should have—”
“Best friend ever…not your fault.” Meg whispered faintly, squeezing her hand. She held it almost as fiercely as Hannah had held hers earlier. “Didn’t want kid…to burden Alec…complicate things, my choice. I knew the risks...it…is…fate.”
More tears stung Hannah’s eyes. Even now, Meg was being courageous.
Meg’s eyes closed and reopened again. A quick stab of panic darted through Hannah. “Meg, let me get the nurse.”
“No.” Meg’s tone was urgent. “I love you…your spirit…proud of your success…promise me you’ll tell Alec I love him…help him understand.”
“Of course.”
“If I don’t make it...”
“Don’t say that.” Hannah felt torn between wanting to comfort Meg and wanting to run screaming for help. “You are going to be fine. You can tell Alec everything yourself. Did you hear all the things I was saying earlier?”
Meg nodded weakly, smiling again. “Han…promise me if I die—”
“I promise I’ll tell Alec, okay, but you’ve got to rest now. You’ve got to fight, because you can’t die. I won’t let you.”
“You’re so strong…stubborn…beautiful.”
“So are you,” said Hannah, love welling up inside her for her friend, fear threatening to overwhelm her with all this talk of death. She tried to ignore the clock, the hospital smells; the odor of warm oatmeal and suffocating ripe peaches, the noise; clanging carts and muffled voices. She wanted to be strong for Meg. But, Meg looked so damned pale. Her hands were so cold.
“Johnny sounds…swell.”
It seemed a struggle for Meg to talk, each breath coming dear.
“You need someone…strong.”
“I’ve got you. Right now I need you more, Meg.” Hannah swiped at her eyes. She would not give credence to any possibility of Meg not recovering. “You’re my best friend.”
“Forever…no matter what,” rasped Meg. She closed her eyes so long Hannah felt like slapping her face. Was she still breathing? “Meg?”
Blinking, Meg opened her eyes again. This time they were clear, warm and as brown as an autumn day. Hannah sighed with relief. “Phew, you scared me drifting off like that, but it’s good. Rest, I’ll be right here.”
“I got what I wanted…love…don’t be afraid to go after what you want. Promise me.”
“Okay, stop being so morbid, you’re scaring me,” ordered Hannah.
Meg squeezed her hand with a strength that gave her renewed hope. With a hint of her old sauce, she said, “Remember…wild women don’t get the blues.”
Hannah smiled through the blur of new tears.
Meg stared back at her, a peaceful smile on her face. The light in her eyes steadily grew dimmer…her hand suddenly went lax ins
ide of Hannah’s.
Hannah thought Meg must be sleeping even though a heavy foreboding flooded her.
“She’s gone now miss, gone.” The nurse’s voice permeated her stupor. Her sad nod confirmed what Hannah’s overwrought senses denied. Meg wasn’t breathing. The urge to shout and flee from where Meg lay still and lifeless was overpowering. She couldn’t think or breathe.
The nurse was patting her, talking. “…might want to make arrangements...”
“Noo,” she screamed without sight, thought or direction and dropping Meg’s hand gently, she left the room, desperate to get away. She ran smack dab into someone large, masculine and quite substantial. He reached out to grab her as she bent to reach for her purse which had fallen to the floor. Barely glancing up, she stammered. “Sorry.”
“Hannah, it’s me, Johnny. Tony told me you were here. That you called in.”
She blinked back her confusion. Johnny. Granted the light wasn’t good and his face looked stark in the shadows cast by the poorly lit corridor but how could she have not seen him? His expression was concerned, gentle as he looked down at her face. “You okay?”
Hannah stared at him, mute. All she could do was shake her head while her tears fell unheeded. She backed into the wall and caved, sobbing. “No. Meg, she’s gone Johnny, gone, dead. She was my best friend.”
His dark eyes brimmed with sympathy. He lifted his hand to rub her cheek. “I’m so sorry, Hannah.”
She wiped her eyes, and holding his gaze told him what had transpired as he helped her stand. “I have to wire Alec, her family, make arrangements.” She sniffed, totally overwhelmed.
“I can help you do that.” He held out his arms, offering her his strength and warmth. It was everything she craved; safety and comfort. It dawned on her that he was always there to rescue her when she needed rescue. “I’m sorry. I’m always such troub—”
“Shut up, Blondie, I like the kind of trouble you bring.” He enveloped her in his strong embrace. “You look about to drop and I ain’t gonna let that happen to my girl. How about I get ya home?”
The Songbird with Sapphire Eyes Page 15
