The phone rang and rang before the voice mail responded. She blinked at Hatch’s flat emotionless recorded message. “I’m sorry I’m not here to take your call. If this is an emergency, call the office. If this is a personal call, leave a message and I’ll get back to you in a year or so. I’m off to see the world and to try to recapture my soul. Don’t try to figure it out, it’s an old Indian thing. Thanks for calling.”
Nealy leaned back in the rocker. What did you expect? she asked herself. He did what you told him to do, he’s getting on with his life. You blew it. You are so stupid, Nealy Clay. You cut your losses. You burned your bridges. You certainly are an expert at screwing things up.
She reached for the phone again and dialed Nick’s number. He picked up on the first ring.
“You got me just as I was leaving, Mom. What’s up?” She told him. “I guess that’s good, Mom. I’m trying to understand you going halfway around the world to have all that surgery. Are you sure you’re doing the right thing? I hope it all works out the way you want it to. If you need me or if there’s anything I can do, let me know.”
“I will, Nick.” She didn’t want to ask but she did. “How is Hatch, Nick?”
“I don’t know, Mom. He packed up and left in July. I asked him when he would be back, and he said a couple of years. The partners said he meant it. You broke his heart and his spirit, Mom. I’m not blaming you. I’m just telling you the way it is.”
“Why didn’t you tell me before?”
“Why? Because you told me not to mention his name to you ever again. You said that part of your life was over. Are you telling me now you changed your mind?”
“Yes. No. I don’t know. If he should happen to call, tell him I called to say good-bye.”
“You already said good-bye once. Are you trying to torture the guy, Mom? He won’t call in. The partners said if he said he wasn’t calling, then he wouldn’t call. They know him better than I do, so I have to believe them. Listen, I gotta run, Mom. I have to be in court early. Call me when you’re settled in over there and let me know how it’s all going.”
Nealy leaned back against the headrest of the old rocker. “All right, Nick. I love you.”
“Love you too, Mom. Bye.”
Nealy sighed, her face a mask of misery.
Nealy’s good-byes were heart-wrenching and tearful. She kept hoping, right up to the last minute, that Smitty would somehow appear as if by magic. Smitty was a woman of convictions. “Tell Smitty I said good-bye. Tell her . . . tell her . . . she’s right about everything.”
“I’ll tell her, Mom,” Emmie said, giving her one last hug.
She didn’t look back. It was too painful.
Thirty-six hours later, Nealy walked into Sinjin Vinh’s private hospital, Cole Tanner at her side.
“I’m leaving you in good hands, Nealy. Call me if there’s anything I can do. When it’s time for you to leave, I’ll personally fly you home.”
“You’re leaving?” Nealy asked in surprise. “But . . . I . . .”
“Don’t be afraid, Nealy. There’s nothing more I can do here. I have to get back to my family. Nose to the grindstone and all that.”
“I don’t know how to thank you, Cole.”
“I’m just glad I could help. It’s all up to you now. I ask only one thing of you, Nealy. Don’t give up. They do things a lot differently over here, so don’t be surprised at anything. Just accept it. They’re very Eastern in all things. Take care.”
He was gone, and she was whisked away for her first meeting with the illustrious Dr. Sinjin Vinh.
The moment the amenities were over, the doctor said, “Now it’s time to get down to work. I had a case like yours once, many years ago. I made her whole again, but it was a very painful, long, hard road. She grew to hate me toward the end, but she didn’t give up. There were so many operations even I lost count. Each one more painful than the one before. I imagine, you, too, will come to hate me. If you feel you aren’t up to it, tell me now. I have many people waiting for me who need my help. For the time being, I am having all my patients brought here just so I can work on you. I don’t want you to let me down halfway through because you are in pain. Are you up to it, Ms. Clay?”
She didn’t stop to think. “Yes.”
“Good. Then let’s get started. Maline will take you to your room. Based on the information Mr. Tanner supplied us with, we tried—or I should say, Maline tried—to do everything she could to decorate your room so you wouldn’t be homesick. I hope you approve.”
“I love it when Americans come here,” Maline said happily. “I did my nurse’s training in the United States. I adore American slang and all the fast food. At home I wear blue jeans and sneakers. My husband does not approve. Oh, well, that’s what makes the world go around. So, tell me, do you like this room?”
Nealy looked around in awe. A rocker just like Maud’s sat in the corner. The draperies and the bedspread were the same as the ones back in her room in Kentucky. But it was the pictures on the wall that stunned her. Pictures of her sitting on Flyby and Shufly, pictures of her, including the one of her covered in mud crossing the finish line dotted the walls. Photographs of Emmie, Nick, Gabby, and Smitty marched across the dresser. On the night table a picture of Ruby and Metaxas with their arms around her brothers. She blinked at the small oval-framed picture of her and Hatch in Hawaii.
Nealy turned to the small, fragile-looking nurse. “You did all this for me.”
“But of course. It was no trouble. It is part of your recovery. We want you to feel at home. You will spend many agonizing hours here. We wanted you to be surrounded by familiar things from your home. I’m so pleased that you like it. Your room opens into a small garden. There are benches outside, and in the morning and in the evening as well, the birds will sing to you. You may cut the flowers if you like. You can unpack later, Ms. Clay. Now you must change and meet Dr. Vinh in his examining room. A nurse will come to fetch you. Take all the time you need. We are very patient here. Ah, I see by your eyes you have questions. You may ask me one. The doctor will answer all the rest.”
“The other patient, the one who was similar to me. Was . . . did she . . .”
“No, she was not perfect when she left here but she was comfortable with how she looked. She invited my husband and me to her wedding. She was a lovely bride.”
“And her scars . . . ?”
“Some were visible, some were not. She used makeup made especially for her.”
“And her husband . . . He accepted her without any problems?”
“But of course. He loved her very much. They now have three children. I must get back, and that was three questions, Ms. Clay.”
Nealy smiled. “Thank you. And thank you for decorating the room.”
“It was my pleasure. I admire you greatly. I must make a confession. I have never seen a flesh-and-blood horse, and you ran all those remarkable races. And you are so tiny, a little person like myself. Amazing.”
“They’re awesome creatures. Perhaps one day when you have some free time we can sit in the garden and talk.”
“I would like that very much, Ms. Clay.”
“Call me Nealy.”
Maline Vinh knocked softly on the door to Nealy’s room. When there was no response, she opened it slightly and called out. When there was still no response, she ventured into the room and called out again. She saw her then, sitting on a rattan chair with deep colorful cushions, in the garden. She drew a deep breath, knowing how much Nealy was suffering.
They’d become good friends during the past year, calling each other by their first names and sharing secrets. On the tray in Maline’s hands were two bottles of beer and a fresh package of cigarettes. Maline wasn’t sure if it was a treat or a bribe. What she did know was that Nealy welcomed the bottle of beer and the one cigarette allowed her.
Maline walked into the garden. She picked a colorful scarlet bloom and placed it on the tray. “If I had a penny, I would give it to you for your
thoughts, Nealy.”
“I’ll give them to you for free, Maline. I am in such pain even my hair hurts. I can’t sleep, and I can’t eat. Yes, I am complaining and yes, I hate your damn husband. I can’t do this anymore. I want to go home.”
“I see.”
“Bullshit, you see. You don’t see at all. You and Dr. Vinh say the words. That’s what they are, words. Words aren’t helping me. When I leave here—if I ever leave here—I’m going to be either a drug addict or an alcoholic. Maybe both. The worst part is that the drugs and the alcohol don’t work. I go to the kitchen at night and sit there drinking beer, one bottle after another. If there was whiskey, I’d drink that, but there isn’t any in the refrigerator. I stagger to my room and pray for sleep. Do I sleep? No, I do not. You didn’t know about the beer, did you?”
“Yes, Nealy, my husband and I know about the beer. Sinjin is the one who put it there for you. Either I or one of the other nurses were watching you at all times to make sure you made it safely to your room. You do sleep. We do that every evening. Tonight, let us talk about something pleasant, something wonderful.”
“And that would be . . . ?” Nealy snapped.
Maline reached into her pocket and withdrew a packet of letters. “Perhaps, if the letters aren’t too personal, you could read them to me. I would very much love to hear what your family is doing. I know they must miss you as much as you miss them.”
Nealy looked at the neat bundle of letters. Guilt rushed through her. How wonderful and faithful they were, writing once a week and calling when they could get the time straight. She hadn’t written, but that was because of the bandages on her hands and fingers. She did talk on the phone, short little talks—I’m well; things are going all right. Short little spurts of conversation.
“I don’t allow myself to miss them. This physical pain is all I can endure.” As an afterthought she asked, “Who are the letters from?”
Maline looked down at the envelopes in her hand. She knew Nealy’s family now and was comfortable talking about them. “There is one from Emmie and Gabby. Gabby’s name is on the envelope also. Ruby has written and so has Smitty. Such a name for a lady. There is one also from your son Nick. Are you sure you don’t want to read them now?”
“I’m sure. I can’t do this anymore, Maline. I want to go home.”
“You promised Sinjin you would see it through, Nealy. A promise is a promise.”
“I lied. I’ve had eleven operations in twelve months. I’m scheduled for number twelve tomorrow. I’m looking at another six, possibly more. I’d rather be dead!”
Maline stared off into the distance, the delicate features of her face creased into a frown. “That is such a terrible thing to say, Nealy. You should be thinking of the time when you walk away from here. You should be thinking of the magic in my husband’s hands and how far he has brought you. You should not be thinking of death. Shame on you, Nealy Clay.”
“What magic? I know only what you tell me. There are no mirrors in this place. No clocks, no telephones. I’m in a goddamn time warp here. Why won’t you let me see what those magic fingers have done for me?”
“Because it isn’t time for you to see. We have done everything humanly possible to make you whole again. The mind and the spirit must cooperate. You need to let go, Nealy. You need to accept what is. When you do that, it will become easier.”
Nealy picked the flower off the tray and held it up to her nose. “It smells wonderful. I couldn’t smell anything last week. Oh, it’s delicious.”
“You see, you have progressed. Your sense of smell has come back. Sinjin will be so happy when I tell him. Shall we drink our beer now, Nealy? What shall we toast tonight?”
“My eyebrows finally growing back. Yes, that’s a good thing.”
Maline giggled as she uncapped the two bottles of beer. “Yes, I don’t think I ever toasted someone’s eyebrows before.” She held her bottle aloft before clinking it against Nealy’s. “I have another surprise for you.”
“The only thing that could possibly surprise me is if you tell me Dr. Vinh canceled my surgery tomorrow,” Nealy said.
“No, that is not the surprise, but the surprise does involve my husband. Nealy, Sinjin went to great lengths to get this for you. It is the videotapes of all your horse races. It took months for him to accomplish this for you. There is also a videotape from your family. We have not viewed these. There will be no one in the sunroom later, so you can view them in private. Sinjin thought it might take the edge off tomorrow for you. He is a very kind man, Nealy. That is why I love him so much. He does feel your pain, Nealy. My husband is the one who does not sleep at night. He is constantly reviewing your case, studying his notes, staring for hours at your pictures. He has more compassion in his little finger than a hundred people have in their whole body. He does care, and he does feel your pain. I hope you will thank him for going to all the trouble of getting these videos for you.”
“I will, Maline. Today is a bad day. They’re all bad, but today is worse. We’ll talk of this another time. I’m going to walk down to the kitchen for some more beer. No, I don’t want the cigarette. I think I finally quit. I should get a prize for that.”
“I will see that you get one,” Maline quipped. “Come, I will walk with you to the kitchen. Remember, you cannot eat or drink after seven o’clock. The videos are on the VCR in the sunroom. All you have to do is insert them and press PLAY. The machine does the rest.” Nealy nodded.
“I’ll see you before surgery. I think you will sleep well this evening, my friend.”
“I hope so,” Nealy said, uncapping the bottle of beer. “I’m going to stay here and drink it, Maline.”
Maline waved as she closed the kitchen door. In the hallway, her tiny shoulders slumped. She headed for her husband’s office, where he was reviewing the procedure for tomorrow’s operation on Nealy.
It was a cheerful kitchen for a small hospital. It was quiet now, everything cleaned up and put away for the morning. Nealy could, if she wanted, make coffee or fix a sandwich. She’d never done that, though.
She liked the little kitchen, liked the butterfly night-light, the bright red teakettle, and the bowl of fresh flowers on the little table. She thought she could smell peanuts. She sniffed again. The urge to smile was great, but it hurt too much. Perhaps after this next procedure she would be able to smile.
Nealy looked at the bottle of beer in her hand. She didn’t really want it. Walking down to the kitchen and getting it was half the enjoyment. She poured it down the drain and set the bottle in the trash container outside the back door.
Nealy walked down the hall to the sunroom, her favorite spot other than the garden in the whole of the private clinic. The furniture was wicker, the tables teak with a high sheen. Fresh flowers were everywhere. Lush green plants filled in the corners. Vibrant watercolors dotted the walls: rainbows, butterflies, fluffy white clouds, and blue skies. All things to make you want to spread your wings and soar. Would she ever have wings to spread? Dr. Vinh said yes.
Once she’d come into this room hoping to see her reflection in the glass of the big-screen television set. She’d wanted to cry when her fingers traced the waffle weave of the protective screen.
Nealy slipped the video marked, “Family” into the VCR. She sat down to watch her self-conscious family talk to her.
“Hi, Mom. I miss you,” Emmie said with a catch in her voice. “Everything is fine here. Flyby misses you. At the end of the video there will be some footage of him. Ruby has some of Shufly she’s going to put on here. Gabby went trick-or-treating down at the barn today and somehow managed to get a bag full of candy. She wants to say hello.”
“Hello, Grandma. This is Gabby, and this is my candy. Look,” she said, holding up a paper sack. “It’s all full to the top. I was a fairy princess.”
“Hello kiddo. I think about you every day. You know I miss you. I’m going to get my other bunion operated on next week. Things are going nicely here at the farm. It’s k
ind of cold today with a light rain. Ruby and Metaxas want to talk to you now. Take care of yourself, Nealy. We all love you.”
“I miss you,” Ruby said, her eyes full of tears. “I hope it’s all going well for you, Nealy. I wish you were here. Things over at the Goldberg farm are good. I keep calling it the Goldberg farm even though it’s ours now. We have nine horses. We’re all well as you can see. Here’s Metaxas.”
“Hello, Nealy. I hope you’re well. Shufly is doing great. We miss you and can’t wait for you to come home. Take care of yourself now, you hear me.”
Nealy waited through the static and the grainy tape until Flyby took front and center. She clapped her hands when he snorted and pawed the ground. It was as if he was performing for her. Her eyes filled with tears as she saluted him. She waited again as Shufly made his appearance. He stared straight at her before he tossed his head from side to side and then galloped off.
The next segment was of her two brothers standing side by side, clearly ill at ease and embarrassed. “We miss you,” Pyne said gruffly.
“Yeah, we miss you,” Rhy said just as gruffly. “Don’t be so lazy, and write us a letter. We want to know how you are. We’re okay here at the farm. You can call us on the phone if you want to.”
Nealy sat forward. The last segment had to be Nick. She sucked in her breath.
“Hi, Mom. Hank Mitchum is videotaping me here in the office that was supposed to be Dad’s office. See, Mom, this is his chair. Well, it’s mine now. It’s taken me a whole year, but I think I fit into it now. I’m real busy; we all doubled up taking over Hatch’s work. It’s all working out fine. I miss hearing from you, Mom. We still haven’t heard anything on Willow. Oh, guess what, the firm got a postcard from Hatch. He was in Bora Bora when he sent it. Said he’s brown as a nut and eating berries. He said he hasn’t found his soul yet. Well, Hank has to get back to his desk so I’ll say good-bye for now. I really miss you, Mom. Call me when you can. I love you.”
Kentucky Heat Page 33
