Simon gripped Tawny’s hand even tighter. God, she must hate this. And it was about to get worse.
“Ready?” His voice bounced back at them.
“Let’s do it.”
He counted aloud as they went down one floor. Only six floors left to go. The candle had flickered precariously several times on the way down the last set of stairs and they hadn’t even been moving that fast. It would take them forever at this rate.
Tawny stopped him on the sixth-floor landing. “Just blow it out, Simon.”
“Are you sure?”
She took a deep breath. “You’ll hold on to my hand?”
“I promise I won’t let go of you, no matter what happens.”
“Then let’s move out.” She leaned around him and blew out the votive, pitching them into absolute blackness. According to fire code, emergency exit lights should’ve shown up over the doorways. Obviously Tawny’s building had compliance issues.
They made their way tentatively at first and then fell into a rhythm. Simon counted aloud, his voice echoing, but he thought it was some measure of comfort to Tawny to hear his voice and hold his hand in the inky black. Soon enough they’d reached the first floor. It hadn’t taken long at all, but it had probably felt like a lifetime to Tawny, judging by her clammy hand.
Muggy heat assaulted them the moment they stepped out of the building. A few quiet voices drifted down from rooftops and fire escapes, and somewhere down the block a woman laughed. In the far distance a horn honked. The earlier party atmosphere had definitely dissipated.
“It’s like a fairy tale where a spell’s been cast, isn’t it?” she asked, dropping into a lunge to stretch.
Simon moved through his own prerun stretches. He knew exactly what she meant. The city that never slept lay about them in uneasy slumber.
“It’s like the proverbial sleeping giant, isn’t it?” he said.
“Exactly. Listen, I know you’re anxious to get there, but remember it’s six miles. Let’s pace it. I believe she’s going to be fine, Simon. At least she’s at the hospital and in good hands.”
“You lead and I’ll be right there with you.”
Tawny headed east through the darkness toward New Jersey and Simon followed. At the corner, where a flower shop stood in silent bloom, she turned north. Simon reminded himself to match her stride. They ran in companionable silence for several blocks, only passing a few cars and the occasional pedestrian.
He needed this, to run, to push himself. Inside he was a mess. So he wasn’t close to his parents. In many ways their relationship bordered on hostile. But he didn’t want anything to happen to his mother. She wasn’t exactly a nurturer, but he hadn’t exactly tried to reach out to them either. At least, not in a long time. He’d summarily ignored their occasional overtures in the last couple of years.
Running through the dark, silent streets, he gave voice to the emotions racking his soul. Tawny would understand.
“I shouldn’t feel this resentment. This situation should absolve it. I should let it go, Tawny, but I can’t. Dammit, I can’t let it go. It’s always been the two of them, with me on the outside looking in. They had each other and I had my resentment. It was my companion during my childhood and while I was a teenager. All these years I’ve nurtured it, embraced it, and I can’t abandon it now. But the really crazy part is, I love her so desperately….” He trailed off, conflicted, close to weeping.
“Of course you do. She’s your mother. And you can resent the hell out of both of them, but it doesn’t mean you don’t love them. It’s our job to be screwed up by our parents. They screwed us up. We’ll screw our kids up. It’s one of those unwritten laws of nature. But it doesn’t mean they don’t love you and it doesn’t mean you don’t love them.”
Her words soothed his troubled soul as the night’s oppressive heat absorbed the rhythmic pounding of their feet. Simon ignored the biting sting of a blister on his left heel. Doc Martens weren’t optimal running footwear. Amazing how just talking to her made him feel better.
“How’d you get to be so smart?” he asked.
Her answer was lost when a spotlight fixed on them and a voice rang out.
“Stop. Police.”
Tawny stumbled and Simon caught her arm, steadying her. They stopped and stood on the sidewalk, sides heaving, waiting.
Blinded by the light, they only heard the slam of a car door and approaching footsteps. “What seems to be the hurry? Kind of odd to be running in the middle of the night dressed all in black? You running from something or someone in particular?”
Piss if he needed some cop with a bad attitude. Didn’t this guy have anything better to do? “Don’t you have anything—”
Tawny stepped on his foot and cut him off. “Morning, Officer.” Her Southern drawl rolled out, thick and sweet as molasses. “We’re on our way to City North Hospital. Simon’s mother’s had a heart attack. I don’t have a car and no cabs are out, so we’ve run all the way.” Tawny smiled at the officer, who remained a faceless silhouette against the blinding light. “I know it looks odd, but Simon didn’t have any running clothes at my apartment, which is why he’s running in all black.”
“Where are you from?”
Jesus, it was an ungodly hour, hotter than hell, they were in the middle of a blackout and this guy—this cop—was flirting with her. Give him a break.
“Savannah, originally.”
“Ah, a Georgia peach.”
Tawny laughed, that warm, husky laugh that crawled over his skin and turned him inside out. “And you sound like a New York boy.”
“Born and raised. Hey, whaddaya say I give the two of you a ride to the hospital?”
Earlier she’d accused Simon of being macho, and really he never had been. But now he had the overwhelming urge to tell this guy to take his ride and shove it up…
“That’d be lovely. We’d really appreciate getting to the hospital as quickly as possible. Wouldn’t we, Simon?” She stepped on his foot again.
“Uh, yeah. The sooner the better.”
“I’m afraid you’ll both have to sit in the back.” The cop gave Tawny a look of apology. “Regulations. Only a badge can sit up front.”
“The back is fine.” She stepped over the uneven sidewalk and tugged Simon toward the car. New York’s own Dudley Do-Right opened the rear door. Tawny offered him a smile that probably curled his insides. It would’ve curled Simon’s if it’d been directed at him. “This is so nice of you,” she said, climbing in the back, her running shorts hugging every delicious curve of her sweet bottom. And yeah, the dickhead wearing the badge noticed. Simon crawled into the back seat behind her. A steel cage separated them from the front. He’d never been in a police cruiser before. The radio squawked and the officer relayed his twenty—his location—and where he was heading.
Tawny held fast to Simon’s hand while she carried on a conversation with Dan Berthold, their officer-chauffeur. With the streets virtually deserted, Officer Berthold didn’t seem to mind breaking the law he was sworn to uphold, and within minutes they pulled up to the hospital that stood like a beacon of light in a surrounding sea of dark.
“Would you mind dropping us at the E.R.?” Tawny asked.
“No problem.” Berthold swung around to the emergency-room entrance, threw the car in park and jumped out to open the back door.
Simon didn’t miss the way the cop eyed Tawny’s legs as she climbed out. Simon quelled the urge to knock him flat. Assaulting an officer who’d just delivered him to his mother seemed a bad idea—even if he deserved it for looking at Tawny like that.
Tawny shook Berthold’s hand. “Thank you so much. I know why you’re called New York’s finest.”
“You want me to wait? I could wait.”
“That’s really sweet, but we don’t know how long we’ll be. Thanks so much.”
“My pleasure.” Berthold turned to Simon. “Hope she’s okay, man.” He held out a hand.
Simon took his proffered hand and shook it.
Maybe the guy wasn’t so bad after all. He hadn’t really hit on Tawny and they had arrived a hell of a lot faster than running. “Thanks for the ride.”
“Anytime.” With a final appreciative glance at Tawny’s derriere in her running shorts, Berthold got in his car and left.
“He had the hots for you.”
Tawny rolled her eyes at him. “He got us here fifteen minutes earlier than if we’d run the whole way.” She started toward the double doors. “Come on. When we get inside, don’t worry about me. I’ll wait in the lobby.”
Simon stopped on the sidewalk outside the wide emergency-room doors. “No. I want you to come with me.”
“I don’t mind waiting in the lobby. I don’t want to intrude.”
He skimmed the line of her jaw with the back of his hand, needing to touch her, admitting what didn’t come easily to him. “I’d really like for you to come with me.”
She turned her cheek into his touch. “Then I’ll go with you.” She took his hand in hers. “Let’s go find your mother.”
They stepped into utter, overwhelming chaos, bright fluorescent lights—all the brighter after the dark—and the cool bliss of air-conditioning. Simon glanced around, at a loss as to where to go. Tawny dragged him behind her. “What’s your mother’s name?”
“Letitia. Letitia Marbury. She didn’t take my dad’s name when they married. Dr. Letitia Marbury.”
Tawny marched up to a desk. Within minutes her smile and Southern charm had elicited his mother’s location.
Tawny put her hand on his arm. “You go on up. I’d like to freshen up.”
“I’ll wait.” Now that he was here he didn’t want to go up, fear at exactly what he’d find stalling him.
“No. Go on up. You need a few minutes alone with them. I’ll meet you there in ten minutes.” She pressed a kiss to his cheek and pushed him in the general direction of the elevator bank. His sweat-soaked T-shirt chilled beneath the blast of air-conditioning. “I promise I’ll be right up.” She touched his arm. “Go on, Simon, she’s waiting for you.”
10
ONCE SIMON DISAPPEARED through the swinging double doors, Tawny headed for the exit. She followed two EMTs wheeling an empty gurney out the door. Ugh. The heat was even worse, coming out of the air-conditioning. She went from cool to sticky and sweaty in about two seconds flat.
She tried to ignore the strands of hair that had escaped her ponytail and lay plastered against her neck, and hauled out her cell phone. Cell-phone usage in an emergency room was one big no-no. She blew out her breath. She wanted to make this call about as much as she wanted another hole in her head. Double not.She hit the speed-dial number.
He answered on the second ring. “Tawny?”
She jumped in without preamble. “We’re at City North Hospital. Simon’s mother’s had a heart attack. You need to get here as quick as you can.” She paced the sidewalk, past a couple sharing a bench and a cigarette.
“But I’m locked in at the gallery,” Elliott protested.
“Then get unlocked. Didn’t you hear what I just said? Simon’s mother’s had a heart attack. He needs you. Here. Now.”
“I don’t know if—”
Elliott exhausted her patience. “I know. I know your very best friend in the world needs you now more than he ever has, and if you have to blow the damned door off the hinges, you better haul your butt down here pronto.” An ambulance, lights flashing but siren silent, pulled up to the double doors. “Don’t make me come get you, Elliott.”
“Tawny—”
“Elliott, I’m not playing with you. If I have to, I will come and drag you out of there.”
“Hold on a sec.”
The back door of the ambulance opened and they wheeled out one very pregnant Hispanic woman. Very pregnant. Very distressed. Now there was something to be thankful for—that she wasn’t that woman.
Muffled conversation came through the line and then Elliott was back on the phone.
“Richard’s coming with me,” Elliott said, defiance ringing in his voice.
Whatever. “I don’t care if you drag in the whole rainbow coalition, just get here.”
“But there aren’t any cabs out and the subway’s dead.”
“Elliott, you’re a New Yorker, for God’s sake. Walk.”
“Be reasonable, Tawny. I’m wearing my Bruno Ms.”
If one more man told her to be reasonable tonight… Tawny barely held on to her temper. She wasn’t at her most patient when running, literally, on maybe an hour of sleep. “Elliott, I know how fond you are of those shoes and I will personally pay to have them resoled. Now listen to me and listen good. Pretend you aren’t the center of the universe. Pretend you care as much about your friend as you do those damn shoes. You put Simon in a helluva position tonight and he covered for you. I don’t care if you have to crawl, get here. You’ve got one hour to show up. I swear to you, if you don’t, I will make your life a living hell.”
“All right. I’m on my way.”
His petulance didn’t further endear him.
“And Elliott…”
“Yes?”
“Don’t bitch about the shoes when you get here.”
She hung up, fairly certain Elliott would drag in within the hour. Nagging him to come through for his friend hadn’t been nearly as effective as promising him a life of misery if he was a no-show. And Elliott knew she would.
Tawny turned off her cell and made her way back through the sea of humanity lining the emergency room.
She ducked into a bathroom. Ugh. She hated public toilets. She wrinkled her nose at the antiseptic smell. Must be a prerequisite for hospitals that they use the cleanser with the nauseating stench. Why’d the urge to pee always strike at the most inopportune times?
She did her business and then stood in front of the sink washing her hands. Ew. She was positively frightening. No makeup. Sweaty. Scraggly, greasy hair. Dark circles from lack of sleep. She’d undoubtedly scare small children. She splashed cold water on her face and repaired her hair as best she could, but she still wasn’t winning any beauty pageants tonight.
She left the bathroom behind and navigated the labyrinthine halls to the elevator bank. City North was clean and boasted a reputation for excellent care, but it was one of the older hospitals in the city and its elevators ran slowly. Eventually she reached the fourth floor, a relatively quiet hall that wasn’t part of Intensive Care—a very good sign for Simon’s mom that she was well enough to warrant a regular room. Two nurses sat engrossed in conversation behind the nurses’-station desk. Tawny followed the sign directing her left to the room number they’d been given downstairs.
Her rubber soles squelched on the spotless tile as she walked down the hall.
A distinguished-looking man who bore a striking resemblance to Simon stood outside the door. A little taller than Simon, gray hair, clipped goatee, chinos, a short-sleeved button-down and thick fisherman sandals. Distinguished didn’t impress her. Her father and his colleagues were all distinguished and it didn’t make them any more or less decent human beings than anyone else.
Tawny drew a deep breath. She needed to ditch the attitude. It wouldn’t do anyone any good. This wasn’t about her. She was here to support Simon, not mix it up with his parents. So this man hadn’t exactly been the father of the year for Simon, but he was still his father. And Simon, despite their history and their obvious shortcomings as parents—definitely just her opinion—cared for them.
They were his parents, regardless of the fact that Simon deserved better ones. Of course, Simon could really use a better friend than Elliott, who’d needed intimidation to bring him here. Simon was sweet and tender and one of the finest men she’d ever met, and he deserved the very best life had to offer.
The man looked up as she approached, eyeing her blankly.
“Mr. Thackeray?” He nodded. “I’m Tawny Edwards, a friend of Simon’s.” She extended her hand and after a moment’s hesitation he shook it.
“Very goo
d. Very good. Charles Thackeray.”
“How is Dr. Marbury?”
He passed a weary hand over his face. “Stable. She’s resting comfortably now that Simon’s here.”
His obvious weariness dispelled some of her harbored animosity. Good parent or bad parent, here was a man worried about the woman he loved.
“He ran almost six miles to get here.” She thought he should know.
He looked taken aback. “He ran?”
“Yes. Ran. In boots. The cabs weren’t running and I don’t own a car. He was worried sick.” She thought it best not to bring up being stopped by the police. Simon really could use a lesson or two in diplomacy. She’d known as sure as rain that he was about to mouth off at that cop, and the only place that would get them was possibly arrested. The only place worse than her apartment to be in a blackout.
“Oh. He didn’t say.”
Charles Thackeray struck her as an academic who immersed himself in other times and places and didn’t invest much in the here and now.
“No. He wouldn’t, would he?” she countered.
“No, I don’t suppose he would. Always been a bit of a loner, our boy. And a little standoffish.”
Tawny managed not to gape and literally bit her tongue to keep from mouthing off about the pot calling the kettle black and the apple not falling far from the tree. Instead she contented herself with saying, “You just have to work a little harder to get to know him, but he’s definitely worth the effort.”
He looked at her as if she’d just expostulated a new scientific hypothesis but didn’t comment.
“So it was definitely a heart attack?” she asked.
“Yes. Chest pains woke her around midnight. Letitia’s one of the most sensible women I know. She didn’t know if it was the heat, indigestion or a heart attack. Instead of ignoring it, she told me to bring her to the hospital. Said she’d rather be embarrassed if it was indigestion than dead if it wasn’t. Very sensible woman.”
“I’ve seen the statistics. A frightening number of women die unnecessarily each year from heart attacks because they wait too long to seek treatment or simply ignore the symptoms,” Tawny said.
Daring in the Dark Page 13
