Sonia nodded, her expression not changing. “And he knew Cipoletti.”
“Well, he started me on the path that led me to him. I, uh, indicated I might be interested in attaining some American Western art.”
Sonia grinned as if he handed her diamond earrings. “We’ve found the fence. Things are looking up. We just have to decide how to handle Cipoletti.” Some of her enthusiasm dimmed. “It’s still a mess, Ty. The time has come for you to tell your family.”
My family. How dear they had become to him, to the point where Aunt Nel’s stubborn cough worried him. Although Ty looked at Sonia, tears clouded his vision and he couldn’t read her expression. “Will you be with me when I confess?”
She stretched her arm and touched his elbow. “Of course I will. I wouldn’t ask you to do it on your own.”
“The family is getting together for dinner at the castle on Saturday night.” He took a deep breath. “I’ll tell them then.”
Pride and confidence shone from Sonia’s eyes. With her by his side, he might survive admitting his wrongdoing after all.
❧
On Friday, Sonia threw herself into her new painting with a passion as excessive as the depression that had dogged her for the past few months. Coming so close to resolving the robbery and Ty’s part in it freed something in her. She spent a few hours experimenting with colors to get the right hues of blue and green and gray that mottled the water in the wetlands. Sky and bracken, birds and soil all contributed to the color that tinged a clear liquid, a phenomenon that never ceased to amaze her. Only God would, could, create such beauty out of nothing.
At last, after her lunch, she dipped her brush in white paint and placed the first brushstrokes of a duck paddling in the water to the canvas. Years ago, she had read “ducks don’t get wet” in a children’s book. The oil on their feathers kept them as dry as a rain slicker. God made each creature suited to its unique environment, another miracle.
She was adding the distinctive teal stripe to the duck when Joe appeared in the doorway. Was it closing time already? The skylight suggested midafternoon.
“Sonia. I gotta go, but I thought you would want to know.” He was stuffing his arms into his coat sleeves as he talked. “It’s Mum. Brian’s worried she has pneumonia—he’s taking her to the hospital.”
“Oh no.” Sonia put her hand to her heart. “Is there anything I can do?”
“Pray.” The grim look on his face tugged at Sonia’s heart, for both Nel and Joe. Joe had returned to Ulysses to look after his mother. If anything happened to her, he would be devastated.
And not only Joe. “Have you called Ty?”
The shamed look on Joe’s face gave her the answer. “Call him for me, please?” He headed for the door.
“And where’s the hospital?” Ulysses had an urgent care clinic at Brian’s office, but patients needing hospital care had to go elsewhere.
Joe gave her directions. “Michelle is calling Brian’s afternoon appointments to reschedule. She’ll drive over later. You can catch a ride with her if you like. You’ll lock up for me, won’t you?”
“Of course.”
Joe whisked out the door, and his car disappeared from view seconds later.
Sonia picked up her brush to finish the duck, but she couldn’t get Nel out of her mind. She covered the canvas and called Ty’s work number.
“Ulysses Home Furnishings, Ty Knight speaking.”
“Ty, it’s Sonia.”
“Hey, beautiful, what’s up?”
“Brian is sending Nel to the hospital. He thinks she has pneumonia.”
❧
“Pneumonia? I had no idea it was that bad.” Ty slumped down in his chair. “I told her not to go out in that snow yesterday. But she was determined to get to her ladies’ meeting.” His throat went dry. Aunt Nel, sick. It couldn’t happen, shouldn’t happen, to such a good person.
“You sound like a mother hen.”
He grimaced. “Well, Aunt Nel brings that out in people. I don’t know why.” He twisted the phone cord with his free hand. “Look, I leave work in an hour. Do you want to come with me to the hospital?”
“Yes. I’ll head home and fix us a sack supper. Pick me up there.”
They said good-bye, and Ty stared at the unfinished spreadsheet in front of him. He had hoped to finish inputting the data from the week’s sales to get a head start on Monday’s work. He riffled through the remaining files on his desk. Not possible without overtime, and tonight he would leave at four on the dot. He checked the computer clock. Forty-seven minutes to go, forty-two if he stopped five minutes early to close up shop. He hadn’t resorted to that trick since starting this job.
He glanced over his cubicle wall. The sales manager brought out upholstery swatches for a prospective buyer to examine. What would Rob say if he had met Ty in his old life, where his expected forty-hour workweek as often as not turned into thirty-five hours or less; and he spent his time in the office on the phone or playing with Facebook. No wonder he had overlooked the fraud. He shook his head. Rob praised Ty for his diligence and work ethic and hinted at a permanent job even after Barb returned from maternity leave.
But Ty doubted they could handle another salaried position over the long haul unless business picked up. He entered data as fast as he could and then verified the numbers. Rob stopped by his desk and added another file to the stack. “Closed the deal. It’s time to close up shop. Or are you staying late again?”
Ty glanced at the clock—3:59. He shook his head. “Not tonight.” He logged out and turned off the computer.
“Do you and Sonia have plans?”
Everyone seemed to know every step he and Sonia made, one of the disadvantages of small-town life. He smiled. Not that he wanted to hide his relationship with Sonia. “We might.” Then his smile faded. Aunt Nel. He considered telling Rob, but decided against it. If he did that, everyone in Ulysses would know before midnight via the town grapevine.
“See you Monday then.” Rob waved good-bye.
Just in case Joe hadn’t called the church, Ty checked the numbers stored in his cell phone and dialed Josh’s direct number. He left a message, explaining what little he knew about Nel’s condition while he made his way out to his car.
Ty closed the phone as he slid into his seat. Shaking his head, he inserted his key into the ignition. How he had changed, indeed, to call on a church for prayer. Among this lot, the response came as naturally as breathing. He had seen enough answers to prayer in his brief time here not to dismiss its power. Aunt Nel deserved that much, even if he didn’t.
Minutes later, he arrived in front of the house Sonia shared with Michelle. Sonia hurried out the door, a cooler in her hand, and tucked it away in the backseat before she joined him in the front. “All set.” She buckled her seat belt. “Head south on the main drag, and turn east at the first intersection out of town.”
He swung the car onto Main Street.
She uncapped a bottle of cherry cola—his favorite—and placed it in the cup holder before adding a bottle of water for herself. “Which do you want, ham or turkey?”
“Ham.” He peeked into the cooler. “With some of those cheese curls. Looks like you packed enough for an army.”
She tore open the cheese curls, and he grabbed a couple. Unwrapping a sandwich, she handed it to him. “I figured that everyone would be hungry by now, and they won’t want to leave.”
“Good idea.” He bit into his sandwich. Sonia made an art form out of sandwich fixings. Her father was right, she’d make a great chef—a great quality in a wife.
Sonia made a phone call and took a couple of small bites when they placed her on hold. “Is Nel Knight still in the ER? She’s been admitted to the hospital? What’s her room number? 312? Thanks.” She closed the phone.
“She’s already been admitted? That doesn’t sound good.” They covered the thirty miles to the hospital in twenty minutes. Ty followed the H signs and found the facility with minimal fuss. He had to park at
some distance from the entrance. He jumped out and took two steps before he remembered Sonia. The door closed behind him, and she caught up with him.
“I hope we don’t have to worry about visiting hours.” Sonia tugged the lapels of her red woolen coat together.
“We’re family. Those are usually magic words.”
“Sounds good. As long as they don’t ask me about a wedding ring.”
Wedding ring. He could see it now, a marquis-cut diamond surrounded by rubies. He covered his confusion by stepping ahead to open the doors, but they slid open automatically. No one manned the information desk at the center of the lobby. A sign announced Dial 0 for Information after 4 pm.
Sonia held the cooler.
“Here, let me take that.” Ty wasn’t shining in the courtesy department tonight, and he resolved not to let stress take over.
“The elevators are that way.” Sonia pressed the Up arrow.
The hospital was small compared to the few he had ever visited: three stories, with a slightly taller doctors’ building next door. They would have more facilities than Brian’s clinic, but was it enough? Aunt Nel deserved the best of care.
The elevator parked on the second floor without moving. “Let’s take the stairs.” Balancing the cooler against his chest, he opened the door to the stairwell. Sonia entered ahead of him, her heels clattering on the concrete steps. The two sets of stairs were no worse than the climb to his turret bedroom every night.
They opened the door to the third floor. “There’s the nurses’ station.” Sonia headed to the right, and he followed. “We’re looking for Nel Knight.”
She spoke to a young woman with a friendly face who wore a loose tunic with cuddly kittens printed against a pink background. Her name tag read Wendy. “Mrs. Knight is having a breathing treatment right now. Her family is in the waiting room—that way.”
“Thanks.” Ty spotted Joe’s broad back ahead, and his steps sped up.
When they entered the room, Michelle turned a tear-stained face in their direction. “Ty, Sonia. You made it.” Only Brian was absent, probably supervising his mother’s breathing treatment. “This is so awful.”
“What’s the verdict?” Michelle’s demeanor scared Ty.
“Mum would say we’re making a big ado about nothing.” Joe had wilted. “She insists it’s just a winter cold.”
“That’s what she said to me, even when I heard her coughing hard enough to bring down the Grand Canyon.” Ty shook himself. “I should have insisted she go to see Brian earlier.”
Judy glanced up from the book she was reading to her girls. “Oh, Ty. Joe. No one can convince Nel of anything once she’s made up her mind. Believe me, Brian has tried.”
Poppy, the younger girl, removed her thumb from her mouth. “Is Grannie going to be all right?”
“Of course she will, honey. Daddy is taking good care of her.”
“I’m hungry.” Pepper stared at the cooler in Ty’s hand. “Did you bring something to eat?”
“I sure did.” Sonia took the cooler from Ty. “I figured two growing girls like you and Poppy would be hungry, so I brought sandwiches and crackers.”
“And chocolate chip cookies!” Pepper reached for one.
“Better eat your sandwich first. I have ham or turkey.”
Ty wanted to laugh at the expression on Pepper’s face.
“Or. . .I made a couple of fluffernutters.”
“I want a fufnutter.” Poppy looked puzzled. “What’s a fufnutter?”
“Peanut butter and marshmallow fluff. It was one of my favorite sandwiches when I was a girl.”
“I want a fufnutter.” Poppy bit into it. “I like it.’
“Me, too.” Pepper ate hers quickly. “Do you have another one?”
Laughter rippled through the adults, easing some of the tension.
Michelle shook her head when Sonia offered her food. “I’m not hungry.” Still, she accepted the turkey sandwich Sonia placed in her hand. Soon the food had been consumed.
Sonia had known how to help the girls. Ty had observed the same quality in the kid’s class. She’d be a great mother someday. He cleared his throat. Why did this family emergency make him think of Sonia in terms of family—their own nuclear family?
He helped clear the trash from the meal. Brian joined them and looked into the empty cooler. Ty felt a sting of guilt for the second sandwich he had consumed.
“I brought you a ham sandwich. That’s all that’s left. I hope it’s okay.” Bless Sonia for setting it aside before they devoured everything.
“Thanks.” Brian took a bite, chewed, and swallowed. “Mum is breathing better. She’s asleep for now. I don’t want anyone to bother her, so let’s stay out of her room.” He ate another bite of sandwich. “Ty, Sonia, thanks for coming—and for the food.”
“How is Aunt Nel?” Ty glanced at the girls, their attention centered on a cartoon. He lowered his voice. “How serious is it?”
“We’ve established that it is a virulent strain of pneumonia. Unfortunately, she’s allergic to a long list of antibiotics, but she handles penicillin without a problem. We’ll x-ray her lungs again tomorrow to check for any improvement.”
“Her lungs. Is there a pulmonologist on staff here?”
“Yes. I’ve been in touch with him. He’s on call. If Mum takes a turn for the worse tonight, he’ll come in. Otherwise, he’ll check on her tomorrow.” Brian passed a tired hand over his forehead. “We went to med school together.” He turned to his wife. “Judy?”
“I know. I’ll take the girls home to bed.” She hugged her husband. “Call me, though, if there’s any change in Nel’s condition.”
“Of course.” He held her against his chest before releasing her with a kiss.
“See you later, folks.” Judy took the girls’ hands and headed for the elevator.
Brian sat down next to Ty. “I’m sorry you came over here, and now you can’t see Mum.”
“We understand. There’s a reason these are called waiting rooms.” Sonia settled next to Michelle, who was holding Joe’s hand. Leaning forward, Sonia leafed through the magazines on the coffee table. “Preseason college football. How. . .current. Ah, here’s a one with suggestions on how to free your creative spirit. Should be interesting.” She turned to the table of contents.
Ty picked up the sports magazine she had discarded, but college football didn’t interest him, especially preseason predictions about teams that by now were either headed home or to conference playoffs. Joe changed the TV channel to a Nuggets’ basketball game. Brian closed his eyes, and within minutes his chest rose and fell in a steady rhythm. How could he sleep, Ty wondered. Maybe he had developed the knack for taking catnaps during his residency.
Ty didn’t want to read or watch television, and he couldn’t sleep. Restless, he stood. “I’m going downstairs for a little while.”
Sonia looked up from her magazine. “Do you want me to come with you?”
He shook his head and headed for the elevators at the end of the hall. In the lobby, a small sign pointed to various departments. His eyes landed on Chapel, and he moved in that direction. A note read, For the Chaplain, Dial Ext. 223. Ty didn’t want the chaplain, so he opened the door.
Light bounced off serene blue and green walls. One of Sonia’s watercolors from Limon would do well on these walls, leading a person to worship. He knew decorators used blue and green to create calm environments. This place would sooth the spirit of petitioners beseeching the Almighty for a sick loved one.
A simple wooden cross adorned the podium. He glanced at the brochure he had picked up by the door, which listed nondenominational services on Saturdays and Sundays for any who wished to attend. He was grateful for the solitude, with no other voices competing for his attention. He and God, talking about Aunt Nel.
The problem was he didn’t know how to start. He stared at the cross. Sonia would know what to say. So would Max. For that matter, probably everybody in the choir would know what to do, ex
cept for him.
How had Sonia described prayer? A conversation, talking to God and listening for His answer. Posture didn’t matter, even though whenever they prayed at church, everyone closed their eyes. He didn’t have to speak aloud because God knew his thoughts.
That was a scary thought. He didn’t want anyone listening to his private thoughts, and certainly not God. Okay. He could also pray out loud or with images—something Sonia described as hurts too deep for words.
Checking the hall to make sure no one else wanted to enter, Ty closed the door behind him. The sound of the door opening would alert him if someone else entered the chapel. He sat on the front pew and stared at the cross again.
“Okay, God, Sonia and Joe and even Max all say You want me to come to You with my problems. That it doesn’t matter how bad I’ve screwed up. In fact, they say You don’t have much patience for people who think they’re A-OK. Maybe You’re like AA that way, huh? I have to admit I have a problem before I can change.”
He stopped, not certain what to say next. “But even You must know Aunt Nel is one of the best people on this earth. If You were ever going to pay attention to someone because she’s a good person, well, that would be Aunt Nel.” He paused. “I might as well say what I’m thinking, since You already know. I wonder if I would be a different man if I had grown up with Aunt Nel and Uncle Brian. Not that I blame my parents for my own bad choices.”
He heard the door open, and he stopped speaking out loud, hoping his words hadn’t carried through the wall. He shut his eyes, his thoughts a rambling morass of doubts and pleas. He felt a weight settle next to him on the pew.
Knight Music Page 11
