“He ought to apologize,” Becky said as she walked into the kitchen. “I’m making tea, would you like some?”
“Tea would be good. Thanks.” She followed Becky into the kitchen. “I don’t get the guy. He acts like a jerk every time I see him, but he wants to fly all of the way to New York to apologize. It’s as if he thinks we are good buddies or something, and he doesn’t want me to be angry with him.”
“Going to have dinner with him?”
“I said I would. It’ll just be two or three hours.” She sighed. “I can put up with him for that long, I suppose.”
Becky handed her a cup of tea.
“Thanks. I hope he’s not flying up here just to see me. That would be really weird.”
***
Late the next morning Bill found himself at LaGuardia. He was grumpy and his stomach was queasy from the flight. Katherine had not seemed pleased when he had called the night before, but his apology had been sincere. He had said a few things he should not have said. Although he had meant every word, he was sorry that he had embarrassed the Jacksons. He would apologize again, but he thought that once she understood his feelings for her, it would explain his behavior.
As he exited the airplane, another passenger pushed past him, running toward the terminal. Bill tripped, bumped into someone else, and grabbed a nearby rail to keep from falling. He hated big cities.
I’ll be at the hospital until three.
Bill didn’t get it. What was so difficult about finding a substitute? After all, he was just in town for the day. He’d had hearings postponed for less.
He glared at two women who stood in his path, talking. “Inconsiderate cows,” he mumbled as he pushed between them. One of them shouted at him, but he barely heard her, his mind on Katherine.
He walked past a restaurant. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw that the bar was already open. So early! Cities do have their redeeming features, he decided. He glanced back at the two women who still stood in the middle of the terminal. Then he smiled and he turned into the bar. Just a quick one.
He plopped onto a stool and ordered bourbon. The bartender set it on a napkin in front of Bill and he picked it up, swirling the amber liquid before taking a drink.
I shouldn’t be here today. Shouldn’t have to be here. If Katherine had been paying attention all of these years, why, we’d already be married. Already have those four children she says she wants. I mean, medical school? What a waste.
He finished his drink, paid, and left the bar.
She said she would be at the hospital until three. Those patients of hers, the trash who frequented an ER, they could be served—yes, served—by someone else.
He took a deep breath. He could probably get to her hospital by one o’clock.
“I’ll drag her away,” he said to himself. “Remind her of how other people live.”
***
A fire had packed the ER and staff from the second shift had already reported for work.
“Dr. Jackson, there is a man in reception asking for you.” The nurse glanced around at the patients packed into the examination rooms, lying on beds in the halls. She laughed. “Says he’s here to take you home.”
Katherine looked at the clock and sighed. It was one-thirty. She had told Bill she could leave at three, and looking around, she wasn’t sure that she would be going then, either. She would not leave until things were under control.
“I’ll talk to him. Tell him I’m coming. Let me finish these sutures.”
It took another fifteen minutes to complete her work. Bill was standing in the middle of the waiting room, hands clasped behind his back, staring straight ahead. A little boy ran past him on his way to the water fountain, and Bill quickly stepped to the side, pulling his overcoat out of the child’s way.
Katherine shook her head. He certainly looked out of place, dressed as he would for court, an expression of discomfort on his face.
“Bill. You made it—and you’re early.”
“Are you ready to go? Get your coat. It’s cold.”
“Bill, I told you that I get off at three. There was a fire in an apartment house and we’re full. I may be a little late leaving, in fact.”
“What am I supposed to do? I can’t sit here.” He looked around the room, wrinkling his nose.
“Come on. I’ll take you to the staff break room. You can wait there.”
Katherine guided him through the ER. Bill’s eyes grew wide as they passed a woman, on a bed in the hall, with burns on both legs.
“That woman needs treatment. Get her out of the hall,” Bill whispered.
“Her burns are not as severe as some of the others. We have no other place for her right now. At least we could get her out of the waiting room.”
“She looks awful!”
“Trust me. We treat the most serious conditions first.” She peered into the staff lounge. “Here, no one is in here. You can sit over there.” She pointed to a sofa across the room. “Magazines are on the table.”
Bill didn’t move.
“It’s all right, Bill, this is the staff’s room. Patients don’t often get back here.”
He chose a chair and sat stiffly.
“I’ll check on you when I can,” Katherine said as she left.
“Katherine, this place is terrible!” Bill jumped up as she started to leave. “Worse than I even imagined. Katherine, you cannot work here.”
“We’ll talk later, Bill. I need to get back.”
Why couldn’t he have given her more notice that he was coming? Perhaps she could have traded shifts with more notice. She stopped as she reached the ER. Why was he here anyway? What was so important that he couldn’t have called ahead? Why could he not have just talked with her on the phone?
“Dr. Jackson,” Amelia, one of the nurses, interrupted her thoughts. “They need you in Exam Three.”
Half an hour later, Bill appeared at the treatment-room door.
“Katherine, we need to go.”
“Bill, go back to the lounge. You can’t be in here.”
“We need to go. I need to go.” He sounded desperate.
“Excuse me,” Katherine said to her patient. “I’ll be right back. She guided Bill into the hallway, closing the door behind her.
“You can wait in either the lounge or the waiting room. If you hang around the exam rooms, someone will call security.”
“I cannot stay in this place.”
“Then leave, Bill. Where are you staying? I’ll come for you when I’ve finished.”
Bill sighed. “I have a reservation at the Royal Hotel, a couple of blocks from your apartment. I’ll either be in my room or in the bar.”
***
Bill plopped onto a stool and ordered a drink. The subway had been crowded. “Like a sardine can,” he grumbled to himself. No one, no decent person, should live that way. He had taken the wrong train, discovering his mistake when he saw the stop for Grand Central. He felt stupid, and he blamed Katherine for not being with him. The maps were incomprehensible. The routes looked like strands of tangled spaghetti.
He sighed. At least his room was ready when he’d reached the hotel.
Bill stared into his glass. The amber color of the liquid reflected his mood. He swirled it around the glass and heard the familiar clink of ice cubes. He took a drink and felt the sweet warmth of the bourbon spread through his mouth and down his throat.
This is not how life was supposed to work. He should not be waiting for Katherine. No, she should have been waiting for him. He tapped his fist on the bar.
She should jump when he said jump. What was it his father had always said? “When I say jump, you ask how high on the way up.”
That was right. That’s how it should be. She should have dropped everything when he walked into that hospital. Bill shuddered as he remembered the waiting room. No, she should have met his flight. But she was too good for that.
He finished his drink and held the glass out for another. His body began to rel
ax as he took a sip, the tension draining from his shoulders. He glanced up at the mirror and saw his reflection. He saw the bar and the people clustered around tables behind him. He smiled. Even surrounded by these damnable Yankees, he could feel at home.
You don’t bathe and I’m not sure you can read.
His feeling of contentment vanished as quickly as it had come. It still galled him how Katherine had acted at the picnic—too good to be nice to him, to treat him with a little respect. Now, she was too good to meet his flight, too good to leave the trash in the ER.
She thinks more of them than she does of me.
He took another drink, savoring the taste as he held the liquor in his mouth, before letting it slide slowly down his throat. The image of Steven Richardson floated though his mind. She would drop it all for him. Meet his flight. Skip work. Do anything the man asked.
Steven Richardson. He has a calling to preserve beauty. What bull.
And that bitch thinks more of him than she does of me. I ought to smack her, make her behave.
He swirled the bourbon around the glass again, while he imagined what he might do. Staring into his drink, he felt the muscles in his right arm tense as if he were pulling it across his body to strike with the back of his hand. He envisioned Katherine cowering on the floor, against the bar, her arm raised protectively above her head, tears streaming down her face, dripping over a purple bruise on her right cheek. He imagined her pleas for forgiveness, her promise to do anything he wanted. He saw himself standing over her, his lip curled. He was sure he could find some way for her make it up to him.
He looked at his watch. “Two-thirty,” he said aloud. “Will she at least have the decency to leave that rat-hole hospital when she said she would?”
The bartender paused as he wiped the bar. “Did you say something?”
“What? Oh, just talking to myself.” He finished his drink and looked up. “Hit me again.” He pushed his glass across the bar. “Tell me, you ever been in love?”
“Me? Certainly. Been married for over twenty years. Love of my life.”
“Kids?”
“Three daughters.”
“Lucky guy.” He shook his head. “I’m in love. Have been for years.” He sighed. “She won’t give me the time of day.”
“Terrible.”
“I flew up here to see her. Should be with her right now, but will she give me a couple of hours? Not on your life. Not a couple of minutes. Thinks she’s too good for me. Won’t take time off from her job, tells me she may even work late. Is that a way to treat a guy?”
“Not in my book. Maybe it’s time to move on.”
“Maybe so.”
A man sitting down the bar looked up.
“Ought to teach her a lesson,” he said.
Bill turned. “A lesson?”
“That’s right, a lesson. Woman like that. Show her that she can’t treat you like dirt.”
The man moved next to Bill.
“I’m Jimmy Rutland. You must be from out of town.”
“Yeah, I am. Richmond. Bill Wilson.” He shook Jimmy’s hand. “Good to meet you.”
“I tell you, Bill, the woman treats you like scum. You shouldn’t let her get away with it.”
“I know, but what am I supposed to do?”
“I have an idea.” He looked over at the bartender. “Willy, Bill and I are moving to our table.” He turned back to Bill. “A group of us guys meet up here in the afternoon. I’ll introduce you. We’ll help you figure something out.”
Bill gulped the last half of his drink, ordered another, and followed Jimmy to a large, round table at the other end of the room.
By five o’clock, the bar at the Royal was crowded, every seat taken, men standing at the bar. Bill sat at the large, round table, surrounded by six men, all of them locals. He had told his story, and, to a man, they were incensed. Each one, it seemed, could call up a story of rejection, of a woman who had spurned his attentions. Each could tell the means he had used to get even, to teach her a lesson.
The methods varied. Arthur had slept with her best friend. Bill Number Two—there were two other Bills at the table—had spread the rumor that she was gay. Guy had cursed her out in public. None seemed appropriate, given the time that Bill had devoted to the relationship and the years he had spent waiting for Katherine.
“It seems to me,” Jimmy said, “that you need to make a decision.” He almost had to shout to be heard. “Do you want wake her up, make her see the light, or do you simply want to punish her and be done with her.”
Bill stared at him, unable to think. He had lost count of how many times his glass had been refilled.
“If I were you,” Jimmy said, “I’d be fed up. I’d want out. Smack her hard and let her go.”
“I can’t hit Katherine.”
“Not literally, Bill. Not literally—unless it’s necessary.” Jimmy grinned. “Here’s what we ought to do…”
Willy brought a fresh round for the table. “Poor girl,” he muttered. He shook his head as he walked away.
“I don’t know.” Bill was finding it hard to follow the discussion. “I don’t want Katherine to get hurt.”
“She ignores you, Bill. She deserves to be punished.”
“Leave him alone.” Guy sat across the table from Bill. “It’s a bad idea. I don’t know where your head is, Jimmy. Anyway, he wants no part of it.”
“Let’s leave it like this then.” Jimmy put a hand on Bill’s shoulder. “Tom and I will come up to check on you, make sure you’re all right. If you want us to leave, just tell us.”
***
The hotel’s bar could be accessed from the street as well as from the hotel’s lobby, and Katherine knew that it functioned as a gathering spot for a number of men in the neighborhood. She stepped in from the lobby and paused while her eyes adjusted to the light. She did not see Bill in the crowd, so she pushed her way to the bar.
“Can I help you, ma’am?” The bartender wiped his hands as he leaned across the bar.
“I’m looking for a friend. Medium height, well-dressed, stout.” She smiled at the word. “Southern accent.”
“You’re looking for Bill?”
Katherine glanced across the room, following the bartender’s gaze. She shook her head and sighed.
This was a bad idea. If the bartender already knows his name…
She turned back to the barkeep. “Yes. I’m looking for Bill.”
“He’s at the far end, by the windows.” He motioned across the room.
She looked where he pointed and found Bill, sitting with his back to her. The group of men clustered around him reminded Katherine of the guys at the picnic. They were laughing too loudly.
“He’s been telling everyone about the pretty woman he was meeting. I thought he was just—well, he’s had a bit to drink.”
“Great.”
She heard Bill’s voice rise above the others.
“Beautiful, she is! Just beautiful! Take your breath away!” He leaned in, toward the other guys. Then, a few seconds later, his voice boomed again. “You can guess what will happen next!”
Laughter erupted around the table.
“Let me get him. Thanks.”
Katherine picked her way through the tables. There were six other men sitting with Bill. She had seen a couple of them around the neighborhood. She placed a hand on Bill’s shoulder.
“Sorry I’m late. You ready to go?”
“Katherine! Here she is.” He slipped an arm around her waist and pulled her into his lap. “I told you she was beautiful. Isn’t she beautiful?”
The others agreed.
Katherine struggled to stand, but Bill held her firmly in place.
“How about a little kiss?” He tipped her back, almost onto the table, and kissed her firmly.
Katherine hit both of his shoulders with the palms of her hands and shoved him away.
“That’s not funny. Let me up!” She glared at him and wiped her mouth with the back of he
r hand.
Bill’s face turned red. He allowed her to return to a sitting position, but he held her firmly around the waist and did not let her stand.
“She puts up a fight, but it’s all worth it in the end.”
The others chuckled, knowingly.
“Let me up, Bill. We need to go.”
“Can’t wait, can she?” he said to the men. Then, he turned back to her. “Just relax, just a minute. You and I have all night. Let me introduce you to the guys. Katherine, Dr. Jackson—I told you she was a doctor,” he said to the other men. “What do you call this outfit you’re wearing? Scrubs? Anyway, this is Arthur, Bill Number Two, and that is Robert, this is Bill Number Three—three of us are Bill, I’m Bill Number One, of course. And this is Guy and that’s Jimmy.”
Katherine didn’t respond and struggled to free herself.
Bill caught her as she started to stand and he pulled her back onto his lap. “Be polite, Katherine. Say hello to the guys.”
“Hi, guys,” she said quietly, as she stared at the table. She noticed Guy looking at her sympathetically. He didn’t appear as soused as the others did. He shook his head and looked away.
“Bill—”
He cut her off. “We were just talking about beautiful women, what makes a woman beautiful. What do you think they said?” He motioned around the table.
“Bill, we should go.”
“No, wait. What do you think they said? What makes a woman beautiful?”
“I’ve no idea.” She spit the words at him, but he smiled at her as if she were simply an obstinate child.
“Want to guess?”
“Let’s go.” Her voice was firm. It was not a request.
“They were unanimous—her mind! Right guys? Her mind?” There was a rumble of agreement. “What would you have guessed they would say?”
Katherine shrugged. “Her eyes?”
The men laughed.
“Yes, that would have been second! Her eyes.”
Bill stood suddenly, throwing Katherine against Arthur, who was sitting to his left. Arthur caught her.
“Oops. Sorry.” Bill reached for the table to steady himself. “Sorry. Sorry.” He swayed back and forth. “I don’t feel so good.” He looked around the table. “Maybe I should lie down awhile. Can you help me upstairs?” A couple of the men smirked. “No, I mean it. I’m not sure I can walk.”
The Handfasting Page 13
