by Gun Brooke
“You comfortable, Ms. Owen?” The night nurse sticks her head in. “I saw you clutching your arm earlier. Can I persuade you to let me have a look at it?”
I’m about to dismiss her, but as I’m about to undress and put on one of the hospital shirts, I change my mind. That, and she’s been an angel after all.
“Yes. Thank you.” I begin to unbutton my shirt, but my left hand trembles so badly, I can’t do it. “And please, call me Gail.”
“Thank you, Gail. I’m Lorna. You’ve been through a terrible ordeal today. No wonder you have some adrenaline surging.” Lorna deftly unbuttons my shirt and helps me get off the rest of my clothes. “Oh, dear. We have to do something about your knees, Gail.”
I blink in surprise and look down at my legs. I have felt a bit stiff since we arrived at the hospital but ignored it. Now I see how bruised and scraped the skin on my knees is. I look over at my slacks that Lorna hung over the back of a chair. They’re in pretty bad shape. No wonder.
Lorna cleans my wounds and puts bandages on them. “We’ll have the doctor just glance at them tomorrow, but for now, you need to sleep right next to your girlfriend. It’ll do both of you a world of good.”
Girlfriend. Yes. I like the sound of that.
Pushing the beds together, Lorna makes sure I have the alarm button within reach. “Just buzz us if you need help, all right?”
“Thank you. I will.” I climb into the bed alongside Romi’s, grateful that I have her to my left. I need to hold her hand, feel her getting warmer under her blankets, and be certain she’s here. Safe.
Before I settle in, my cell phone vibrates. I grimace and check the screen. Neill. I send Romi a glance but then answer. “Hi, you,” I say, still husky.
“I just got a call in the middle of the night from Vivian Harding,” Neill says, sounding rattled. “Are you all right? And Romi?”
“Now we are.” I sigh. “Is that Laurence in the background? He sounds frantic.”
“He is! So am I. What an ordeal you’ve been through. We can drive over right away if you need us, darling.” Neill clears his throat, and I realize he’s not dramatizing, which he’s been known to do on occasion. I start to weep, suddenly able to relax for the first time since this morning. “Would you? I’m staying at the hospital with Romi, but if you drive here tomorrow, you can come by and get the key and the alarm code.” I sob and put down the phone to wipe my nose with a tissue. I hear Neill finishing a sentence when I pick up the phone again. “Sorry, didn’t catch that?”
“We’ll start toward East Quay in the morning,” Neill says. “Just focus on your girl and your own health. I worry this has taken a toll on your progress.”
“It hasn’t. Not that way, truly. I worry more for her. She’s on strong antibiotics, and…it could have ended so much worse.”
“That’s what Vivian said. What a lovely woman she is.” Neill sounds torn between being concerned and starstruck. This makes me smile through the tears and feel partially normal for a moment.
“She is. All of them are, including the cop that was invaluable.”
“Good. We’ll come by the hospital early afternoon if traffic isn’t too bad.” Neill draws a trembling breath. “And don’t scare us like that again—either of you. I know, I’ve only met Romi very briefly, but I understand how you feel about her, so that makes her family.”
“You truly are a sweet man.” I kiss the phone, something I never do. “Give my love to Laurence. See you tomorrow.”
We disconnect the call, and I snuggle up as close as I can to Romi and hold her hand. She’s warmer now and is asleep rather than unconscious. I close my eyes as fatigue overwhelms me. Tomorrow will be a challenge. I don’t know how Romi will feel when she wakes up. Will we be back at square one, or will this ordeal have brought what truly matters to center stage?
As much as my brain insists on agonizing over it all, I drift off to sleep next to the woman I love.
Romi
Warm and toasty. I inhale through my nose, and yes, that’s definitely Gail’s scent. I shift, and to my relief, the thing in my side is gone. I have no clue what it was, only that it was extremely painful. Opening my eyes, I find myself looking at some IV bags to the left of me. Something holds my right hand in a firm grip, and when I turn my head and manage to ignore a quick bout of vertigo, I see Gail asleep in a hospital bed next to me.
My thoughts stop so fast, I can feel my gray matter become even more wrinkled. Is Gail sick? Or has she reinjured her arm? What the hell’s going on? I search my fuzzy short-term memory, and images flood my mind way too fast.
I fell in the woods and got hurt. I have no idea how long I was lying there. Perhaps I even hallucinated—I’m pretty sure I did. Then there were voices, lots of flickering lights, and…dogs?
Another set of memories connects with my synapses. We argued, no, fought, in Gail’s basement. I told her everything, and she stared at me with such confusion…and maybe contempt? I’m not sure about the last part. Perhaps that emotion was more on my part, directed toward myself.
Gail told me she loved me. Twice. What did I say? How did I reciprocate? I moan when I realize I didn’t. I ran, left her to fend for herself emotionally after finally unburdening my guilt. Yet even when she was the most confused and struggled to understand, she maintained that she loves me.
“I love you too, Gail,” I murmur and roll onto my right, facing her. Her blond hair is spread like silk across the hospital pillow, and the dark circles under her eyes look like bruises. I keep doing it to her, don’t I?
“Mmm?” Gail says and opens her eyes. “Romi?”
“I’m awake.” I try to smile, but I must fail at that as well because my lips are trembling. “Are you all right?”
“I’m fine. Just a little sore.” Gail shifts toward me and our hands are still joined. “And you?” She sounds very cautious.
I don’t know how I can be so certain, but I know this is my moment. Whether Gail pretends she didn’t hear me before or not, I have to be strong and tell her the truth. So much depends on it, and I assume she’s uncertain of my feelings after the way I acted yesterday. “Gail,” I say softly. “I love you. So very much.” I pull her hand up to my face and kiss the back of it and then the inside of her wrist. “Please, forgive me for yesterday.”
Fat tears roll across Gail’s face and are soaked up by the pillow. “You don’t have to say you’re sorry. We’re so new together, so fresh, and have so much to learn. The thing is…do you want to invest the time? You know I love you. Is that enough for you to take the plunge and explore a future together? If not, then please—”
“Yes. It’s more than enough.” I cough, choking on the surge of emotions cruising my veins. “I love you. How can it be so easy to say today, when I felt entirely unworthy yesterday?”
Smiling wanly, Gail shakes her head. “God only knows. I suppose we mortals have a way of complicating things. Guilt is a very destructive emotion, and you’ve taken on more than your fair share. You’ve been through so much in your life, I find it amazing that you’ve managed to stay afloat as well as you do.” Kissing the back of my hand, Gail sighs. “And I adore you.” She stops talking, her mouth opening in apparent surprise. “I truly do. No matter what the future brings, for either of us, I don’t see my feelings changing.”
“Me either,” I say confidently, because if there’s something I know to be true, that’s it.
We rest for a while, hand in hand, and when the day nurse comes in, I still refuse to let go. Eventually I have to, but I don’t like it. The doctors visit and examine my stitches and Gail’s knees. I find out they’ve actually admitted her too, mainly because her blood pressure soared and to clean her knees.
“The boys are driving up,” Gail says when the room is free of health-care professionals.
“The boys? Oh. Neill and Larry. They must be worried about you.” I nod.
“Us. They’re worried about us.”
This reassurance warms me, and I let my fee
lings show by smiling for real. “Okay. That’s sweet of them.”
There’s a knock on the door, and then Detective Flynn and Manon poke their heads inside. Flynn is dressed in civilian clothes, and both she and Manon are all smiles. “Look at the two of you,” Manon says and grins broadly. “Two hundred percent improvement.” She kisses my cheek and then Gail’s. “We didn’t want to wait any longer.”
“Regarding what?” I ask, vaguely remembering Flynn as the cop Manon knew personally. She was going to check out my situation in New York. Immediately a new knot forms in my stomach.
“I’ve been in touch, under the radar, so to speak, with an old police-academy friend in New York, and she dug around for information, also somewhat on the down-low.” Flynn looks at me kindly. “As for the B&E on the Upper East Side, they’ve made two arrests and recovered at least two-thirds of the stolen items. I read part of that list and have never known anyone to have sixteen Rolexes and six Breitlings. Clearly part of the one percent who should be more careful to keep their stuff in safes.” Flynn snickers. “What’s more important is that your name is not mentioned anywhere in the police investigation. There’re not even suspicions against a Jane Doe. You have no record in New York or in Rhode Island, Romi. If I’m not misinformed, you’ve only been to these two states.”
I can’t breathe. Only when Gail yelps do I realize how firmly I’m squeezing her hand. “But I ran. I had cuffs on my wrist hidden under my jacket, and I left the police station without permission.” Surely there was some punishment for such things?
“No mention of that anywhere.” Flynn pats my foot where she stands by the end of the bed. “Just enjoy being free to pursue life. And get a copy of your birth certificate, apply for a new photo ID, and take your test for a driver’s license.”
Manon chuckles. “All in good time. Now that we’ve shared the good news, I want you to remain on medical leave until you’re up for resuming your duties with the choir. Mike will stand in for you until you get back.”
I turn to Gail, who’s smiling with such genuine joy, I’m starting to think I’m dreaming. Things are falling into place far too easily right now, and that never happens to me. Perhaps it’s time for me to believe what everyone in East Quay who treats me like a friend says. I deserve happiness and a future, and I’m a worthwhile person. I manage to thank Manon and Flynn warmly before they leave.
“I want to go home,” I say to Gail, half rolling over onto her bed.
“And by home, you mean…?” Gail tilts her head, but instead of the guarded disbelief that has been prevalent for so long, I see confidence and happiness spread over her face.
“The farmhouse. It never used to be home, until you moved in.” I inhale Gail’s scent, so familiar yet so enticing. I’ll never grow tired of it.
“It wasn’t home for me until you began coming around,” Gail says. “Must be love, I think.”
I laugh but regret it when my side smarts. “Ow. But I agree. It’s definitely love.”
“As soon as you’re cleared to go home, that’s what we’ll do.” Gail caresses my back with her good arm. “And it seems you’re going to be very busy working for the foundation. I better come up with something to occupy my time as well.”
“Something to do with music?” I ask carefully.
Gail presses her lips to the top of my head. “Perhaps. I’m not ruling it out.”
Next to loving me, that last sentence is the biggest, most amazing part of our new life.
I kiss Gail’s neck. “I love you.”
“God, Romi. I love you too.”
I snuggle closer, so content right now, I don’t even care that we’re in a hospital. We love each other, and that’s all that really matters.
Epilogue
Clara Delaney
Journal Entry
October 3, 2013
That girl. No matter how I tried, I couldn’t reach her. She clearly didn’t care to respect me. If she only had done as she was told, her life would have been an easy one. The farm means hard work, that is certain, but since I couldn’t turn her into a citizen that can be the same pillar in the community as my dear departed husband and myself are, I have failed. From an early age, she claimed she remembered her mother, which showed that she can easily stretch the truth into a full-blown lie. Now she has been missing for more than sixteen months. The police have no trace of her, and the private investigator I employed has come up empty.
I’m attaching an envelope with her birth certificate and the death certificates of her parents to this journal page. Perhaps someone may put them to good use at one point. I have done my part and consider myself relieved of the commitment I made when I took the child in.
C.D.
Gail
I can’t take my eyes off the woman standing with her back to the audience. Dressed all in black, what else, she raises her arms, and all the young people have their eyes trained on her. Romi still has her own way of conducting, homemade gestures that work for her and the kids. No doubt my former friends and colleagues would sneer at her attempts, but I would chop them off at the ankles if they dared to. Thankfully, Romi is safe from such elitist eyes as she prepares the choir to perform at the regionals.
Lisa and Stephanie have solos, and I can tell from where I stand in the wings that they’re nervous. Happy-nervous, as Romi would say. I wonder how nervous Romi is. It’s been six months since she took over after Carrie.
“Here we go,” Manon murmurs where she stands next to me together with Eryn. “They’ve worked so hard for this.”
“They’ll do great,” Eryn says, putting her arm around Manon’s shoulders.
Romi gives a sharp flick with her left wrist. The kids begin to sing, yet again a song once unknown to me. Now I’m as familiar with it as the classical pieces that lived in my fingers, arms, and heart.
“Oh, wow.” Eryn tosses her braid back over her shoulder. “Choreography!”
This is new to me as well. Whenever I sat in on rehearsals, the kids giggled about some surprise, but I had no idea that they planned to add movements to the singing. All dressed in cobalt blue, they move like one.
Lisa’s and Stephanie’s solos get the audience going. People jump to their feet and clap to the beat, which seems to ignite the kids as well as Romi. Toward the crescendo, their voices soar, and when they’re done, the applause is thunderous.
As the kids leave the stage, all I see is Romi. Tears glisten in her eyes, and she’s heading straight for me. She throws her arms around me. We no longer have to stick to one-armed hugs, as my pain is at an entirely manageable level now. I kiss the top of her head where her black hair now is longer, wavy, and silken. Romi tips her head back, and I kiss her lips lightly.
“They were awesome,” she says, her voice husky with emotion.
“You all were.” I’ll congratulate the kids individually, but right now, I just want to be with Romi, hold her, and show her how proud I am of her—and how much I love her. Her aunt gave up on her when she was still a minor, but I never will. Romi is the love of my life, and I vow to show her how I feel every day.
Romi
Of course, pizza. I promised the kids they could choose where we would go for dinner in Providence after regionals, and they picked pizza. What they didn’t know was that Chicory Ariose would sponsor a minibus limousine. I learned about it only two days before the competition and knew this would blow the kids’ minds.
When they saw the limousine, I think we all suffered some damage to our ears from so much squealing. Then again, we were already half-deaf from the sounds they made when it turned out they won and will go on to nationals.
Now we sit at a long table, the twenty kids from the choir, the women from Chicory Ariose, and some of the parents, which include Giselle and Tierney. Gail sits next to me, and it’s as if I can’t let go of her hand. I suppose, when the food arrives, I’m going to have to, or she won’t be able to eat. Her arm is doing so much better, but her fingers still cause her pain.
“You’ve never looked more beautiful,” Gail says in my ear. “And sexy.”
I nearly fall off my chair, and I’m grateful that everyone is busy talking and laughing. “You’re being very forward.” I let go of Gail’s hand and place mine on her thigh. The tablecloth, because this is clearly a fancy pizza place, covers our legs, but it also makes it possible for me to slide my hand up along her thigh. Gail is wearing slacks, so I’m not being completely naughty. Just a little.
I can imagine that Gail is grateful for the many happy voices drowning out her gasp. She glares at me, but her eyes take on that deep-water hue that only happens when she looks at me.
“Just you wait,” Gail says, her tone matter-of-fact, which is also damn sexy.
“Forever, if that’s what it takes.” And I mean it. Ever since we found the paperwork that proved my identity once and for all, my confidence has grown exponentially. Gail’s love has been the one constant I’ve relied on, and to know she loves me, and I love her, is really all I need.
Gail smiles. “We already have forever together, don’t you agree?”
I laugh. I do. Cupping her cheek, I kiss Gail, surrounded by the kids and all our friends in the fancy pizza place. For so many years, I wished I’d one day belong somewhere, and now…
When I’m with Gail, I’m home.
About the Author
Gun Brooke, author of more than twenty novels, resides in Sweden, surrounded by a loving family and two affectionate dogs. When she isn’t writing her novels for Bold Strokes Books, she works on her art and crafts whenever possible, certain that practice pays off. Gun loves creating cover art for her own books and others using digital art software.
