Sapphire and Shadow (A Woman's Life)

by Marie Ferrarella

  “Someday,” he echoed easily, leading the way to the door.

  “But not soon,” she surmised from his tone.

  “No, not soon.”

  He held the door open for her. Warm mist hit her face as she stepped out. London weather was truly awful, she decided.

  With an unstudied movement, he put his arm around her shoulders and drew her close as they hurried down the street. “I’ve a bit of the wanderlust in me yet. It wouldn’t be fair to a wife if I wanted to just pick up and leave.”

  Johanna tried not to think of how good he felt against her. “She might want to pick up and leave with you.”

  He shook his head as they instinctively drew even closer together, united against the inclement weather. “The car’s over there,” he pointed. “Women are nesters by and large.”

  “Are they now?” She laughed now and took his hand as they ran across the street together. She felt breathless and wonderfully alive, more alive than she had in a long, long time.

  She stood, brushing rain from her face as he unlocked the passenger door for her. “I know of several who would argue with you on that point.” She slid into the van. The interior smelled of lemon drops. She wondered if he was partial to them.

  “Then they wouldn’t be the ladies for me. I like a nester.” He put his key into the ignition. “And someday, I hope to find one.”

  “You won’t have to look far.”

  He turned his gaze on her.

  He thinks I mean me, she thought suddenly, embarrassed. “I—I mean that you’re an attractive young man and women are always on the look out for attrac—I’m not saying this right, am I?”

  He laughed and covered her hand with his own. His hand was large, capable. Hers were small and delicate. He liked the contrast.

  “I think I get the drift of it, Johanna. Now then, where are you staying?”

  Relieved that things had been cleared up, she gave Tommy the address and he nodded, throwing the van into first gear.

  Johanna looked down at the stick shift he handled so effortlessly without even thinking. “If I had to drive that, we’d never get out of the garage. I can’t tap dance and drive at the same time.”

  “Tap dance?”

  She pointed to the floor. “Too many pedals.”

  “Oh.” He shrugged. “Like everything else, you get used to it.”

  She thought of the demise of her marriage and grew serious. Some things one never got used to. “I suppose,” she said quietly.

  He read her mood and wondered at it, but felt it best to let her have her privacy.

  When they pulled up in front of the hotel, the doorman looked surprised to see Johanna alight from the rather sorry looking dark blue van.

  “Shall I have the valet park this for you, sir?” he asked Tommy.

  Johanna and Tommy exchanged grins at the formal question. Tommy handed the man his keys. “Just for a few minutes, if you don’t mind.”

  Masterson took the car keys into his gloved hand, holding them aloft by his fingertips as if they have leprosy. “Very good, sir.”

  “I always see a lady to her door,” Tommy confided to Johanna when they had passed through the revolving door. “My Dad made that a strict point of honor.”

  “I wouldn’t want you disappointing your father,” Johanna laughed.

  God, it felt good to laugh. It had been so long since she had felt the desire to laugh. Her accidental run-in with Tommy had been a godsend. The pensive mood that had been haunting her was spent and she no longer entertained any feelings of being sorry for herself. She felt much too good for that.

  When they arrived at her door, Tommy took the key from her and opened it. Turning the doorknob, he handed the key back to her.

  “Good night, Tommy.” Johanna raise herself up on her toes and brushed his cheek with an affectionate kiss. “It’s been a very pleasant evening.”

  He touched his cheek as she opened her door and smiled to himself. She was a lady, he thought, in every sense of the word. A lady he would like to see more of, if she were so inclined. He wondered if she was.

  He saw that her shoulders stiffened slightly as she stood in the doorway. “Anything wrong?”

  “I don’t know,” she murmured, then laughed at herself. “Just a feeling, I guess. Over-active nerves.”

  She threw open the light switch. There was silence in the suite. A strange, unusual silence that she couldn’t quite put her finger on. But it bothered her. It was too early for the girls to be sleeping, she thought. And then she heard it.

  A moan.

  She went immediately to her daughter’s room. Tommy followed without being asked. Jocelyn lay on her bed, flushed and tossing fitfully.

  “Jocey?” Johanna knelt down on the floor next to the bed. “Baby, what is it?” Johanna touched her daughter’s forehead. It was hot. Her whole body felt hot. Jocelyn was burning up. “Honey, where’s Megan?” Why hadn’t Megan tried to summon a doctor? Where was she, anyway? Guilt and frustration began to rise up. She shouldn’t have left them. “Megan,” she called out.

  Without a word, Tommy left her side and went to look in the other rooms. He returned within a few moments. “There’s no one else here, Johanna.”

  To Johanna’s horror, Jocelyn began to jerk and tremble. Johanna tried to hold her down. “Oh my God, she’s going into convulsions.”

  Tommy edged Johanna out of the way firmly and tucked Jocelyn’s blanket around her before lifting her into his arms.

  “We need to get her to a hospital emergency room,” he told Johanna. “This happened to my younger sister. C’mon.”

  Johanna scrambled up to her feet, eternally grateful that Tommy had taken charge. Following Tommy out into the hallway, Johanna had to remind herself to lock the door. Impatiently, she jabbed the elevator button then silently willed it to come quickly. When it did, it was empty.

  “It’s going to be all right, baby,” Johanna said soothing. Jocelyn didn’t seem to hear her. She squeezed her eyes shut tight against the glare of the light in the elevator. Johanna held her hand tightly as they rode down to the first floor.

  People in the lobby stared at the strange threesome, but gave them a wide berth.

  “His car, quickly, Masterson,” Johanna asked the doorman. “It’s the blue—“

  “Van,” Masterson supplied. “It’s not a car one forgets quickly at the Hyatt. What’s the matter with the young lady?” he inquired as he signaled for a valet.

  A thin young man built like a jockey hustled over and took the keys from Masterson.

  “She’s running a high fever,” Johanna answered, wanting to run after the valet to get him to move faster. Jocelyn moaned again. “Shh, baby. It’s going to be all right. We’re taking her to the hospital.”

  “Wait right here,” Masterson instructed. He called a second valet over and then dispatched him into the hotel. The couple behind Johanna murmured impatiently. “There’s a sick child here,” the doorman explained using a tone that was not as gracious as it might have been.

  His expression softened to a wreath of compassion as he turned and looked at Johanna. “I’ve sent Ben to call for the local bobbies. They’ll escort you in. Westminster Children’s Hospital is your best bet, Mrs. Whitney. It’s close by.”

  She didn’t want to wait. She wanted to go now, as soon as the van was brought around. But common sense told her they’d make better time with a police car clearing the way for them. She nodded her thanks, afraid that her voice might break if she spoke. Harry was always telling her that she was a poor excuse for a wife and mother. She blamed herself for this. If she hadn’t gone out—if she had stayed in, she would have gotten Jocelyn to a doctor as soon as the fever began to rise.

  The valet brought the van to a screeching halt before them, and jumped out, holding the keys out to Tommy. Johanna climbed in first. Tommy settled Jocelyn against Johanna and she put her arms around the girl, rocking slightly, hoping that it would sooth her. Tommy took the keys and hurried around to t
he driver’s side. He swung into the seat, poised and ready, curbing his own impatience to be off. Within moments, the sing-song sound of a siren was heard piercing the night air.

  “Hang on,” Tommy warned her. Johanna felt the van lunge forward.

  She whispered the same words to Jocelyn and bit her lip to keep from crying when she realized that the girl still didn’t hear her. Murmuring encouragements, Johanna stroked the girl’s head.

  As soon as Jocelyn was better, and she told herself that there was no other conclusion that could be reached, Johanna vowed that she was going to find Megan and send her packing immediately.

  Or maybe, Johanna told herself, stroking her daughter’s forehead and wishing that it was cooler, she’d just kill the irresponsible little witch.

  The thought gave her something to consider as she held her daughter in her arms.

  Chapter Fifteen

  There was something about Tommy that made her put her faith in him. Johanna had no idea why she trusted a person who was for all intents a perfect stranger to her, but she did. She felt better for Tommy just being there with her. It wasn’t so much that he took charge of the situation. He didn’t. He didn’t overwhelm her and make her feel incompetent or more guilty than she already felt. If anything, his manner made her feel as if she wasn’t to blame for this. Harry would have been all too quick to point a finger at her while he did nothing to remedy it. Instead, Tommy took the given situation and handled it competently. He made her feel that they were in this together. As a team.

  With their police escort, they arrived at Westminster Children’s Hospital quickly. Johanna managed to say a quick thank-you to the policeman, then hurried after Tommy as he carried Jocelyn in through doors that bounced opened automatically when he approached.

  Jocelyn was still drifting in and out of consciousness.

  Johanna caught up to them and took her daughter’s limp hand in hers. She held it tightly as she and Tommy walked down the corridor into the emergency room.

  There were only a few people seated in the vestibule, each apparently waiting for someone beyond the green doors which separated the well from the ones seeking help. Unconsciously, Johanna gripped Tommy’s arm.

  “It’s goin’ to be all right, luv,” he whispered.

  Johanna hung onto the words like a promise.

  A brusque, mannish-looking older woman approached them and without a hint of a smile or a trace of humanity, waved them over to the registration desk. “We’ll need some facts before she can be attended to.” She pulled out a drawer and removed a stack of forms.

  How can she think about paperwork when her daughter was suffering? What was the matter with this woman ? Didn’t she have any feelings? Angry words rose up to her lips. Johanna fought them back. Shouting wasn’t going to get her anywhere.

  “I can tell you anything you need to know,” she told the woman, “if you’ll just get a doctor to take a look at my daughter.”

  The woman frowned, puckering her dark brows into almost a single line. “We can’t go getting ahead of ourselves, now can we? In each situation, there are specific procedures that have to be adhered to.”

  “Rubbish,” Tommy declared. He shifted Jocelyn’s weight slightly. His forearms were beginning to ache. “This is a bloody emergency, madam. This little girl needs to be seen now.”

  The woman bristled. But looking at Tommy’s unsmiling face had her relinquishing her stand within a few seconds. He looked like someone she didn’t want to argue with.

  She rose dramatically and matched back to the green doors. “This way.” She shoved the doors open with the flat of her hand and they jumped apart. The sign on the left door warned people to keep clear. Tommy wondered if the woman came with the same kind of a warning.

  He turned and smiled encouragingly at Johanna as they followed the short, squat woman into a large, antiseptic room. Two sides of the room were lined with cots. There was hardly any space between them. Curtains that had once been stark white but were now a faded eggshell color were the only thing separating one cot from another. It generated a very sterile atmosphere.

  That only added to Johanna’s anxiety. She began to think that if Tommy wasn’t here, she would be falling apart by now. First there had been the stress of her marriage ending, and now this. Alone, it would have been too much for her to bear.

  The woman from the registration desk summoned a nurse and then turned her attention to Johanna. “If you’re quite content, I’ll need to speak to you at the desk now.” It was more of a command than a statement.

  “Tommy, would you—?” She looked down at Jocelyn.

  “Sure, I’ll stay with her. Don’t you worry none.”

  Johanna merely nodded and followed the woman out of the room.

  Fighting off a mental fog, Johanna managed to give the woman all the necessary information. After she signed the release, she literally bolted from her chair to join Jocelyn. Behind her, she heard the woman hiss out an annoyed sigh. Johanna silently addressed a few choice words in her direction.

  To her relief, Tommy was still with Jocelyn, talking to the girl and telling her that it was going to be okay. Jocelyn seemed to have settled down. She was no longer tossing and turning, and she was conscious. That in itself was comforting.

  Johanna took her daughter’s hand in hers again. “Hi, stranger.” She smoothed back Jocelyn’s wet bangs.

  Jocelyn tried to focus in on her. “Mom, I feel awful,” she cried softly.

  “I know, honey, I know. It’ll be all right soon,” she promised.

  Jocelyn closed her eyes and fell asleep again.

  Johanna recalled a fragment of a prayer from her childhood and silently said it over and over again. Tommy said nothing. But he remained there. It helped.

  It took forever for an emergency room physician to finally come and see them. Johanna had begun to despair that they were going to stay the night and well into the next day, waiting. Her hands were icy. She couldn’t seem to get warm enough, in contrast to Jocelyn, who continued to run a high fever. Twice Johanna told Tommy that he should go home and twice he ignored her, much to her unspoken relief. Having him with her gave her someone to talk to, someone to share her feelings with. It kept her from imagining the worst.

  When the physician and a technician took Jocelyn off to run a few tests, Johanna was left looking down at the empty cot. Looking down and worrying.

  “I don’t know what it is about being sick in a strange city.” Johanna tried to laugh at her fears, but she still couldn’t shake the feeling. “But it has you imagining all sorts of things. Back home, this would seem almost routine to me.” It wasn’t entirely true, but the familiarity of home would have taken some of the fear away. Being in London, thousands of miles from home, made it that much more strange.

  As she spoke, she knotted and unknotted her hands. Silently, Tommy took one of her hands in his and held it. She gave him a heartened smile.

  “When Jocey was thirteen months old, she ran a high fever and went into convulsions.”

  “Does she have a history of—“ He wasn’t certain just how to phrase his question.

  “Epilepsy?”

  Tommy nodded.

  “No. I had her tested. The doctor went along with me, probably because of the fee I imagine. He owned the clinic and taxes come high in that part of the city. But he did laugh when it was over. Told me I was overreacting. Very high fevers are known to bring on convulsions.” She shrugged helplessly, staring at the slightly frayed curtain that bisected the area between them and the next cot. “I knew someone who died from food poisoning. He was staying in a little town in Italy, visiting relatives. If he had been in the States, he’d be alive today—“ Her hand moved jerkily over the sheet, worrying it.

  Tommy covered her hand again with his own in an effort to reassure her. “We’re not entirely barbaric here.”

  The contact of hand on hand seemed strangely fortifying. She drew strength from it. Johanna smiled her gratitude at him. His brown e
yes were soft, comforting. But she felt guilty at detaining him. “Isn’t there some girl you should be with?”

  He grinned and tilted his head, studying her. He left his hand where it was. He enjoyed touching her, even so virginal a contact as this. “Are you trying to get rid of me?”

  Johanna looked down at their joined hands. Odd that it felt so natural. “No, but I feel like I’m taking you away from someone.”

  “No one that I know of.”

  “No one special?” She remembered what he had told her earlier, that he wasn’t ready to get serious about anyone, but she had thought that was purely for conversation’s sake. She found it hard to believe that someone as kind, as handsome as Tommy Reed was unattached.

  “Not yet.”

  His words and the look in his eyes brought a shiver down her spine. If she didn’t know any better, she would have said it sounded like a promise.

  What was the matter with her? It was precisely her earlier dalliance that had kept her away from Jocelyn until the girl had gotten to this state. How could she even be thinking about someone when Jocelyn was lying in this hospital, deathly ill? And to be thinking about someone younger than she was—? She didn’t know exactly how old Tommy was, but she knew he had to be younger than she was. Perhaps as much as ten years. Or was it just that she felt so old lately?

  It was the stress she was under, she assured herself. Anyone could crack after what she had been through with Harry. What she needed was a vacation to pull herself together, not a crisis on the heels of her decision to leave him.

  “Mrs. Whitney?” A tall, thin-faced man in a white lab coat came into the microcosm created by the white curtains. There was a stethoscope peering out one of his deep pockets. Behind him, an orderly brought Jocelyn back and helped her onto the cot.

  Johanna took hold of Jocelyn’s hand and squeezed it before she looked up at the doctor. “Yes?”

  “I’m Dr. Powell.”

  “But where’s Dr. Maclntire?” There had been a young, shaggy-haired resident attending Jocelyn. He had been the one who had taken her off for the lab tests half an hour ago.