"Oh, honey…" She swiped at her eyes and tried not to sob aloud.
He said, "They cut me open and took out my appendix."
"I heard."
"It still kind of hurts. But I get medicine. So it doesn't hurt too much."
"You are going to be fine."
"I know. Dr. Heber told me." A small sob escaped him. "Ronni. Ronni, listen … I'm sorry, for what I said. I shouldn't have said that. I know that I shouldn't…"
She bent forward, to get as close to him as she could. "It's okay. You know it is. I … I love you. And I hurt you. And … I do understand."
"I … I did that to my mother. I did. Right before she died…" He was speaking so quietly. Not a whisper, exactly. But for her ears alone.
She leaned even closer. She could feel his breath against her face. "Oh, sweetheart. Did what?"
"I … I told her I hated her. I was so mad at her. Because I knew she was going away from me forever. And she asked me to take care of Dad and Lizzy and Griff. To look out for Grandma, too. And I told her that was stupid, I couldn't do that. I'm only a kid. And then I said it. 'I hate you.' Just like I did it to you. And she said, 'Well, I love you,' and I knew I should say I was sorry, that I loved her, too. But I was just so … I don't know. I just couldn't say it. I never said it. She died and I never said it…" He balled up the tissue then and scrubbed it across his cheeks and under his nose.
Ronni captured his hand again, ignoring the soggy tissue still clutched in it. "Oh, honey. You listen. You listen to me. Your mother loved you. And she understood that you weren't really mad at her. You were just hurting bad, because you were losing her."
Hope and tears made his eyes shine so bright. "You think so? You think she knew?"
Ronni wrapped her other hand around their joined ones. "I know that she did."
Drew sniffed loudly. "Ronni. I know you didn't try to hurt us. I know you didn't break your solemn vow. And even if you're not going to live with us and be part of our family, can we be friends, anyway?"
"Oh, I would like that. I would like that so much."
"Good. You're keeping our money, aren't you? Keeping it safe?"
"I am."
"And I really am going to be well soon. Dr. Heber said so. We'll go out and get maybe a hundred dollars again, in one day."
"You bet we will."
"And we'll make my dad proud."
"Absolutely. So proud…"
Those shining blue eyes shifted away, focusing on a point behind her. She turned.
Lily and Ryan were standing in the doorway.
Lily's lower lip was quivering.
And Ryan was … just Ryan: the man Ronni would always love.
Lily caught her lip between her teeth, then released it. "Ronni. I wonder if I might have a moment with you alone."
Ryan started to say something.
But Ronni didn't let him. She gave Drew's hand a squeeze and answered, "Certainly."
They left Ryan with Drew and went down to the cafeteria.
Ronni got a glass of grape juice and Lily poured herself a cup of coffee. They took a table near one of the long, narrow windows next to a tall, shiny-leafed rubber plant. Outside, the rain kept pouring down.
Lily looked into her coffee cup. "I don't know why I took this. The last thing I need right now is more caffeine."
Ronni sipped her juice. "Coffee is … reassuring, I think. It's the warmth. And that little trail of steam that spirals up from the cup."
Lily drank, set the cup down. "Well," she said, "I don't know. I don't feel very reassured."
Ronni gave a small shrug. "How are … Griffin? And Lisbeth?"
"Fine. They're with the sitter now. She's fifteen, lives down the street. A very responsible girl." Lily pushed her cup away. "I just…"
"What?"
"I don't like myself very much right at this moment."
"Lily…"
"No. Just listen. Please."
"All right."
"On Monday, Andrew started complaining that his stomach hurt. I thought it was an act—like the one he wanted to put on for his father to get out of going to Pizza Pete's. Remember?"
They looked at each other. Ronni thought. My God. Lily and I. We have memories together…
She nodded. "I remember."
"I thought … he was just trying to get me to call you. You know how kids' minds work. I assumed he was thinking that if he got sick I would call you, since you're a doctor, even though Dr. Heber is his pediatrician."
"Yes, I see."
"Then, by yesterday morning, he was vomiting. He had a fever. And I realized what a terrible error in judgment I'd made."
Ronni could relate to that: to an error in judgment. She could relate to that too well…
Lily pulled her coffee back in front of her and drank some more. "Why am I drinking this? Don't tell me. For reassurance." She wrapped both hands around the cup and pressed her forehead against the rim. "I have to say it, I have to face it. If you had been there, he wouldn't have been forced to suffer for two days because his grandmother is a selfish, pigheaded old—"
Ronni reached across the table, took Lily's wrist and guided the cup back to the saucer. "Lily. Appendicitis is a tough call. Even the best doctors, ones with years of experience, sometimes fail to diagnose it correctly. Until it becomes acute, it's difficult to tell what it is."
Lily shook her head. "Still, I should have—"
"Listen. I talked to Marty. The operation was routine. Drew is going to be fine in a very short time."
Lily stared down at the half-empty cup again. "Is he?"
"Yes. He is."
"In every way?"
Ronni listened to the rain for a moment, giving Lily a chance to answer that herself.
And Lily didn't disappoint her. "Ryan is miserable," she said. "And even before he got sick, Andrew walked around the house like a ghost of himself. Both Griffin and Lisbeth have asked for you. More than once. Last night, when we got home from the hospital, Lisbeth demanded to know if 'Ronni was making Drew all well.'" Lily rested an elbow on the table, rubbed her forehead with her hand. "The truth is, you love Ryan. And Ryan loves you. And the children love you, too. They miss you."
Ronni pointed out the obvious, because she felt it needed to be said. "They all love you, Lily. They love you so much."
Lily dropped her hand away from her face. She looked directly at Ronni. "Yes. They do love me. And I love them. But it's time I stopped imagining I can bring my daughter back by keeping you out of our lives."
They sat there for a while, not speaking, watching the rain hit the window and slither in shiny streams down the glass. The rest of Lily's coffee grew cool in the cup and Ronni finished her juice.
Finally, Ronni said, "I'm coming to the house to see Ryan. Tonight. It will be late. So I can be sure he'll be there."
Lily closed her eyes and sighed. Somehow, the soft outward rush of air sounded like a benediction.
"Of course you are," she said.
* * *
Chapter Sixteen
« ^ »
Ronni pulled her car into the driveway of Ryan's house at ten-thirty that night. The rain had died to a misty drizzle by then. Ronni didn't bother with an umbrella as she ran across the front lawn and up the steps.
The door opened before she lifted her hand to ring the bell.
Ryan stood beyond the threshold. She looked into his beautiful eyes and she thought of that first night, of the way they had stood in the foyer, two almost-strangers, in their pajamas, wondering what to say next…
He spoke first.
"Lily said you would come."
"Yes. And here I am."
He stepped back. She went in and he closed the door. "Let me have your coat." She untied the sash and he slipped it off her shoulders, his fingers brushing the sides of her arms, sending awareness moving through her in a slow, warm wave.
He hung the coat in the entryway closet, then opened the door next to it, the one to his study, wher
e he'd led her that first night.
She went in ahead of him, took the same chair she'd taken that other time.
He didn't sit, only stood near the edge of the big desk, facing her. Once both of them stopped moving the room seemed very quiet. Ronni listened to the faint clatter of rain dripping down the gutters outside, and tried to decide where she should start.
He started for her. "Drew told me. About the fund-raising you two have been doing."
"He did? When?"
"While you and Lily were down in the cafeteria. He said he wanted it to be a surprise, but it was also a lie and lies weren't a very good idea."
"He's … quite a kid."
"Yeah. One of the best. And he … told me what he'd told his mother before she died—and what he said to you when you told him you were moving out. That he hated you."
"I knew he didn't mean it. And I would bet my license to practice medicine that Patricia knew it, too."
"Still, he's decided to stop throwing words like hate around."
"A wise decision."
"Yes. I think so."
Another silence fell. Ronni thought, I love you. How I've missed you…
She said, "Drew came up with the plan to raise money all by himself. And he does all the work, too. I just sit there, with a stethoscope slung around my neck. Looking official."
"He couldn't have done it without you."
"He would have figured out a way."
"Maybe." There was a marble pen stand on the desk a few inches from where he stood. He touched it, as if to straighten it, bring it square with the leather desk pad. But then he pulled his hand away without moving it. "Drew tells me you're going to keep it up. Every Saturday and Sunday, once he's fully recovered, until you raise a thousand dollars."
"That's right. That's our plan." She swallowed. All the important things she had to say seemed trapped there, in her throat. She coughed. "How's it going on your end? With the fund-raising."
"Good. It looks like the Pembroke people can give us fifteen million by summertime. And another local foundation, the D.P. Wiley Children's Fund, has committed to putting up twelve million, because the wing will provide pediatric care. Government grants look good for a couple of million. And then there's the money we're getting straight from the community, things like what you and my son have been doing. We're still around ten million short. We need to replace the money we took from the Community Fund. But we're getting there."
"That's wonderful."
His eyes ran over her, seeing everything. "You look tired."
"I'm fine."
"You're sure?"
"There's nothing wrong with me that a good night's sleep wouldn't cure." A good night's sleep at your side…
"How's the condo?"
"Perfect." She clutched the chair arm for courage. "And empty."
Something flashed in his eyes. Something bright. Something so lovely. That reluctant smile touched his mouth, then didn't quite take form. "This is the first time you've ever come to me." His voice was rough, low and husky with emotion. "Except for that first night, when you brought my son back. And that wasn't really for me, was it? It was for Drew."
"I … didn't even know you then."
"You know what I mean. It's always been me. Coming to you. Pushing you…"
"Ryan. It never felt that way to me."
"Maybe not. But it did to me."
"I've been wondering—" she swallowed again and made herself confess "—wondering if maybe you … resent the baby coming, just a little. You have three children already, and you're always so busy and—" She cut herself off. He was turning away from her, the movement so abrupt it felt as if something was tearing.
She watched, her hand over her mouth, as he went to the credenza and picked up a picture of Drew, Lisbeth and Griffin in front of a Christmas tree, piles of brightly wrapped gifts stacked around them. In the picture, Griffin was hardly more than a baby. Drew held him on his lap.
Ryan touched the picture, the pads of his fingers laid so lightly against the three beaming faces. "I … resented Griffin. Resented the fact that Patricia just had to have another baby. We already had our boy and our girl. It seemed like enough to me. But she wanted more. And she just kept after me. She could be relentless when she wanted something—relentless in the sweetest, most loving way. Finally, I gave in. She got what she wanted. And I felt … I don't know, as if she'd backed me into a corner, I guess. And a little bit guilty, because I knew I wasn't that good a father to the first two. And now another one was on the way…"
The two words came out before she could stop them. "Oh, Ryan…"
He turned to her, his expression rueful. "Wait. I'm not done yet."
She pressed her lips together, nodded. His blue eyes held hers, a steady look and a sure one. "So I felt pushed into something I didn't really want. And inadequate, too, as a father. But then, when Griff was born, when I saw him … all of a sudden, it seemed impossible to imagine the world without him in it. I remember holding him the first time, thinking, This is what it's all about, Malone. This is what matters. This is what counts…"
He turned away just enough to set the picture down, then faced her fully once more. "Yes, I would have liked more time with you, before another baby came. But another baby is coming. And maybe I'm not the kind of father I should be. Not the kind I want to be. But I'm the father my children have. I love you. I love them. And I'll love our baby."
She wanted to jump from the chair and throw her arms around him. But she couldn't. Not yet.
She stayed where she was and made herself tell him the rest of the doubts she'd been keeping from him. "I … I saw you, that day in Pizza Pete's. You and your brother. You were talking about something. I don't know … it seemed like it wasn't good. I thought maybe it was about me."
"You didn't ask me about it."
"I was afraid to."
"You should have asked, anyway."
"I know."
He took one step toward her, and another. One more step and he was standing over her. He reached out, touched her hair so tenderly, then let his hand drop back to his side. "Tanner's having some trouble. And it's nothing to do with the new wing. He got a woman pregnant, and it wasn't like you and me. He doesn't want to marry her. She doesn't want to marry him. She doesn't even want the baby. But he talked her into having it. It's due pretty soon now. She's supposed to give it up for adoption. However, she's not the most dependable woman in the world. In spite of the agreement they've made, Tanner's never sure what she'll do. He says he's not ready for fatherhood. But then again, he's not ready to let that baby go, either."
"And … that's what you were talking about?"
"Yes."
Ronni stared up at him, amazed at how far astray her own fears had led her—and also reasonably certain that the mother of Tanner's child was getting the best possible prenatal care from Dr. Kelly Hall.
She thought of telling Ryan. But no. Not right now. Right now, they were talking of the two of them, of their own lives, their own child…
Ryan said, "The next time you decide I don't want our baby, will you please come to me and ask me if it's true?"
"I … yes. Yes. I will."
"You were right about Lily. She told me a few hours ago that she's been a stubborn fool. She said … she's changed her mind, about leaving. We're her family and she wants to stay. If that's all right with you…"
"Of course it's all right. It's exactly what I hoped for."
"You'll have to tell her that."
"Don't worry, I will."
"Good." He dragged in a breath. "Lord, I've missed you."
"Oh, and I have missed you…"
"I did believe it was important, that you go to that condo of yours for a while, that you have some time without me around, to make up your mind for certain. But damn it, you can't imagine how it's been. Every night. Without you."
"Yes, I can. Just like it's been for me. Empty. Lonely. I can't sleep."
"You need your sle
ep. You're sleeping for two now."
"Oh, Ryan … and don't look at me like that. I am not waffling. I'm selling my condo. I want to move back to the guest house until we can get married—which I want to be soon. And then I want to move in here, with you and the kids, and Lily, too. How does that sound?"
He held out his hand. She laid hers in it.
Home, she thought. This is what home is. My hand in his hand. Loving. And loved.
Oh so gently, he turned her hand over—and placed a blue velvet jewel box in her palm.
She gasped and looked up at him. "Where did this come from?"
He gave her his marvelous unwilling smile. "I bought it today, after I saw you at the hospital. I guess I have to admit, if Lily hadn't told me you were coming here tonight, I would have come looking for you."
"You would?"
He nodded, then commanded, "Open it."
With fingers that only shook a little, she did. Inside, from its bed of midnight velvet, a large beautifully cut engagement diamond gleamed at her. A string of smaller diamonds sparkled along the matching wedding band.
"Do you like it?"
"I love it."
"Here." He took the case from her and removed the engagement ring. Then, with great care, he slid it onto her finger. "Marry me, Ronni," he whispered, his voice rough with emotion.
"Yes."
A gentle tug on her hand brought her out of the chair—and into his cherishing embrace. "I love you," he said on a low husk of breath.
She pulled away just enough to look right in his eyes. "I love you, too. And I will be your wife." Her gaze didn't waver. "Forever and always—or at the very least, for as long as we're both on this earth. That is my vow to you, Ryan Malone."
* * *
Epilogue
« ^
The check arrived four days later. It came via Federal Express, straight to the house, with no return address. It came in the afternoon, when Lily and the children were sitting around the kitchen table making decorations for St. Paddy's Day. It was made out to Ryan Malone. A brief note, unsigned, came with it.
Congratulations on your upcoming marriage. Here's five million toward Memorial's Twenty-Year Wing.
A DOCTOR'S VOW Page 18
