Shelter in the Tropics

by Cara Lockwood

  Because she’d grown up in this small town off I-94 near Kalamazoo, she had personal knowledge of this house, knew its interior features and its beauty. It had belonged to a family whose parents were employed at one of the subsidiaries of a large cereal production company. They had been transferred earlier in the year, leaving behind a spotless, well-staged home that Andrea was certain would appeal to the young doctor and his wife.

  Yet what excited her most about this appointment today was personal. She was on track to be the top salesperson at her real estate firm if she made this sale. Reaching her sales goal would boost her confidence, make her feel more a part of the real estate business as an accomplished professional in her own right. The money would be a great bonus, as well. She wanted to take her daughter, Shannon, on a nice vacation as soon as she could afford it.

  While waiting for the light at the bottom of the ramp to turn green, she glanced at her face in the rearview mirror, touched up her lipstick and then checked her cell phone for messages. The client had said he’d call when he left his office to pick up his wife. He’d been so insistent that they look at this house today she’d arranged to have her real estate partner, Gina Dowd, take Shannon to her hair appointment.

  Andrea glanced again at her phone when she realized Shannon hadn’t responded to any of the messages she’d left, which was odd. Shannon usually returned her calls. Knowing her daughter, she was probably talking to her friend Chloe about their sleepover. That probably explained the silence. Shannon, her sixteen-year-old daughter, was considerate and respectful—the best daughter any mother could ask for.

  Andrea turned right into the gated subdivision just as her cell phone rang. It had to be either her daughter or her client. Relieved, she checked the caller ID.

  Cambridge High School? She hit the answer button. “Andrea Taylor speaking.”

  “Mrs. Taylor, this is Mrs. Barton, Shannon’s homeroom teacher. Your daughter has been taken to the hospital.”

  Panic pushed against her ribs. “Hospital? What’s she doing there?” she asked, easing her foot off the gas pedal. A horn blasted behind her.

  “She’s been...injured.”

  Injured? Who would hurt Shannon? It wasn’t possible. She pulled over and put the vehicle in Park. “What do you mean?”

  “You need to get to the hospital.” Mrs. Barton hesitated. “I can meet you there if you’d like.”

  Andrea couldn’t take in the woman’s words. Shannon couldn’t be hurt. “Was she in an accident?”

  “I—I’m not sure. Shannon is in the emergency room,” the teacher said. “They need you there now.”

  Emergency room?

  “I’ll—” She took a deep breath. “Tell them I’ll be there right away.” Stunned, Andrea ended the call, only to have her cell phone ring again.

  “Is this Shannon Taylor’s mother?” a very cool, professional voice asked.

  “Yes. Who’s this?” Tension climbed Andrea’s shoulders.

  “My name is Karen. I’m calling from the hospital. Shannon has been injured.”

  Andrea held the phone closer to her ear as though that could stop her hands from shaking. “Her teacher just called me. Please tell me what’s going on.”

  “Your daughter was brought in with abrasions on her arms, face and knees from a fall onto the sidewalk, or so we believe. The doctor is doing a few tests and a chest X-ray for possible injury to her rib cage.”

  There had to be some mistake. “Are you sure?”

  “Yes.”

  Andrea glanced at her watch. Shannon should have been at the hairdresser an hour ago. She would never change her plans without calling first. Andrea had to call Gina to find out what had happened after the salon appointment. “Who is there with her?” she asked, her mind fumbling for an explanation.

  “Kyle Donahue. A classmate, I believe.”

  Kyle was in Shannon’s class and was her math tutor. He was always polite and kind when he came to the house. Andrea liked him mostly because Shannon was always happy to have him around. Shannon never discussed the boys in her class other than Kyle, leading Andrea to wonder if they were more than friends. “I don’t understand. My daughter is supposed to be at—”

  “Mrs. Taylor, we need you here now.”

  “I’m on my way,” she said, her heart racing as she tried to remain calm. She shoved the gearshift into Drive, turned the wheel sharply and did a U-turn in the middle of the street.

  She sped toward the interstate as she dialed Gina. When it went to voice mail, she left a message asking Gina to call her immediately. Her friend would be able to fill her in. The accident must have happened after Gina dropped Shannon off at home.

  Andrea called her client, explained the situation and promised to set up another appointment as quickly as possible. Fortunately, as a doctor, he understood the urgency. She called her mother’s house. Edna, her mother’s housekeeper, picked up. “Is Mom there?” Andrea asked without preamble.

  “Carrie is landing in Chicago as we speak. Can I give her a message?”

  “Tell her to call me as soon as she can.”

  “I will. Anything wrong? Anything I can do?”

  Andrea hesitated. Edna had been her mother’s housekeeper and a part of Andrea’s life for as long as she could remember. Edna loved Shannon as if she were her own granddaughter. “Shannon’s been hurt. I don’t know the details. I’m on the way to the hospital now.”

  “No! That can’t be. I’ll come right over.”

  She heard tears in Edna’s voice and tried to hold her own at bay as she responded. “Please don’t. I’m sorry to upset you, but I’m sure she’s okay. Just give Mom the message. Tell her to call me as soon as she can.”

  Traffic was backed up on the exit that led to Headley Hospital. Andrea gripped the wheel, waiting. Feeling the tension in her shoulders, she forced herself to breathe deeply and slowly. She had to remain calm and in control. Whatever had happened couldn’t be that serious. It seemed impossible that a fall would injure Shannon severely enough to require a trip to the emergency room. She was cheerleader, a good athlete and a physically strong young woman with good reflexes. She would have protected herself if she fell. This didn’t make sense.

  Finally the traffic eased forward. Andrea turned onto the street leading to the hospital then made her way into the parking garage. In a matter of minutes she’d be with her little girl.

  She hurried to the reception desk inside the emergency department. “I’m Andrea Taylor. I’m here to see my daughter, Shannon.”

  “There is a waiting room for family members. I’ll let the staff know you’re here. Please follow the red dots just beyond the door,” the woman at the desk said.

  With a click the doors slowly opened, and Andrea went in, making her way along the wide corridor leading into the brightly lit space.

  Inside the waiting room there were groupings of chairs and a refreshment stand with a coffeepot and bottled water. Relieved to see the room empty, Andrea fought back the worry she’d been struggling with.

  Moving toward a comfortable chair near the center of the room, she glanced around at the muted blue walls displaying paintings by local artists. Taking a deep breath, she closed her eyes and tried to calm herself.

  The clock on the wall behind the sofa clunked at each passing minute. The coffeepot hissed. The muffled sounds emanating from the hospital corridor did nothing to soothe her anxiety. How long would she have to wait? They’d told her to get here as soon as possible. She was here. Where were they? Unable to sit still any longer, Andrea clutched her purse and stood. Sliding her hands up her arms, she walked around the room, looking for a distraction.

  Suddenly there was a woman wearing blue scrubs and a white lab coat standing at the door. “Mrs. Taylor?”

  Andrea’s heart felt as if it were going to leap out of he
r chest. “Yes.”

  “I’m Dr. Janet Everett. I’ve examined Shannon. She has some cuts and a bruised knee, a welt on her forehead. We’re running a few tests on her now.”

  “What happened? Why would a fall on the sidewalk result in my daughter being brought to the hospital?”

  “An ambulance was called to the scene, so obviously someone was very concerned. As far as I know, she didn’t lose consciousness. Your daughter has said very little other than that she fell. A young man came in with her but left about ten minutes ago.”

  “Kyle Donahue?” Why had Kyle left Shannon alone instead of waiting for Andrea to arrive? Was he involved somehow in what happened? And how had Shannon ended up being hurt when she was supposed to be at home?

  “I believe that’s the name, but your daughter should be able to tell you.” The doctor’s quizzical expression made Andrea feel inadequate, as if she should have known who was with her daughter. And she should have... Which was a problem she intended to fix as soon as she could see Shannon.

  Dr. Everett’s glance swept over her. “Are you okay?”

  Shannon had never been in the hospital before. Not once. She must be so frightened by all this. “I—I think so. When can I see her?”

  “In a few minutes.” The doctor’s weary smile didn’t offer much comfort.

  Andrea stood still, trying to absorb it all, trying to calm her racing heart. She had more questions after speaking with the doctor. She still couldn’t understand how Shannon could have fallen and why an ambulance had been called. If Kyle was with her, why hadn’t he grabbed her before she hit the sidewalk? None of this made sense.

  The ring of her phone sent a spike of adrenaline through Andrea.

  She checked the caller ID. Scott Taylor?

  Her ex-husband was the last person she wanted to speak with now, yet she couldn’t ignore him. “Scott, why are you calling me?”

  “Shannon just phoned. Did you know she’s in the hospital?”

  Why would Shannon call her father? The man only wanted contact with their daughter when he needed something. “Yes. I’m at the hospital now.”

  “Have you seen her yet?”

  “I’m on my way to her room in a few minutes,” Andrea said, the old feelings of inadequacy roiling her stomach.

  “What are you doing to help her?” Scott demanded, his voice suddenly loud and angry. “You’d better be looking after her.”

  “That’s not fair! Shannon’s safe with me. You know that,” she said as she began to pace.

  She listened to more angry words about her parenting skills from the man who had tried to take her daughter from her. But what he wanted didn’t matter. This was not the time or place for his tirade. “I’ll get back to you once I’ve talked to Shannon.” Andrea hung up before he could respond.

  A woman in pink scrubs walked into the waiting room. “I’m Karen, Shannon’s nurse. I can take you to see her now.”

  They walked toward the trauma area, through a set of swinging doors to an area behind a white curtain.

  Andrea stopped in front of the barrier, bracing herself for what she might see. “Shannon?” Andrea asked as she slipped behind the cotton drape.

  “Mom? Mom, I’m so sorry. I never meant—”

  “Oh, sweetie, you’re okay. That’s all that matters,” she said, her voice shaking as she hugged her daughter. “I was so worried. Why didn’t you call me?”

  “Mom, please don’t,” Shannon said, easing away, clutching her elbows as she stared at a spot over Andrea’s shoulder.

  Andrea was so relieved to see Shannon she didn’t immediately register the dismissive words and actions. She eased away and scanned Shannon’s face for any sign of injury. Other than a small white bandage on her forehead and a reddened area on her cheek, there didn’t seem to be any visible damage. “Where do you hurt?” she asked, smoothing the pillow behind Shannon’s head.

  “I’m fine, Mom. You don’t need to worry.”

  From what she could see, Shannon seemed to be okay, but that didn’t alleviate her concerns. “Why didn’t you call me after school?” It took surprising effort to keep the recriminations from spilling out. If Shannon had answered her phone, perhaps this could have been avoided. At the very least, Andrea would have known what her daughter was up to.

  “I was busy and forgot.”

  How could her only child forget to call her? That wasn’t how their relationship worked. They stayed in contact, always letting the other know when plans changed. When had Shannon stopped telling Andrea everything? And why hadn’t she noticed that her daughter seemed...different? What had gone wrong, and was Kyle the reason for Shannon’s odd behavior? “Was Kyle with you?”

  “He was, but he had to get home. His mom was looking for him,” Shannon said, her anxious glance partially obscured by the bandage above her right eye.

  “How did you get hurt?”

  Shannon toyed with the neckline of her hospital gown, a frown darkening her features. “Kyle was walking with me to the mall. I needed to get to the drugstore.”

  “And?” Dragging answers out of Shannon was like an inquisition. Why was she so reluctant to talk? Was there more to this fall than she was admitting?

  “And I tripped. I fell down...” Shannon’s voice shook.

  The tremor broke the control Andrea had on her emotions, and tears escaped. “I’m so sorry you’re hurt. But how could you have hit the ground so hard? Where was Kyle? Didn’t he grab you? Surely he didn’t let you fall without trying to help.”

  “Mom! Stop! I don’t need you crying when nothing really happened. I wouldn’t have come to the hospital if Kyle hadn’t insisted. He did everything he could to help me.”

  “Where is Chloe? She’s your best friend. Why didn’t she come to the hospital with you?”

  Shannon closed her eyes briefly then looked up. “I called Daddy. He told me you’d freak out, but I didn’t believe him. I wish he was here.”

  Irrational anger tore through Andrea, settling in her throat. She wanted to scream and throw something. Scott hadn’t shown an iota of concern for Shannon since he’d left and married another woman. If it hadn’t been for Andrea’s attempts to maintain a connection between her daughter and her ex, Shannon would have known how little Scott cared. But she’d always made a point of reminding Scott of their daughter’s birthday and anything new or different in Shannon’s life. She’d done it all for Shannon, and this was how her daughter responded?

  Shannon’s words brought painful memories to the surface. Scott had done everything to gain custody of Shannon, including having a psychologist, Jake Polegato, do an assessment trying to prove Andrea was an unfit parent. She would never forget those days when Jake interviewed Shannon and gained her confidence. Shannon had been happy that Jake showed her so much attention and understanding. But when he made the case that Shannon might be better off with her father, that staying with her mother was not necessarily the right decision for Shannon, Andrea had been furious.

  As far as she was concerned, the man was a fraud. At the very least he was acting in Scott’s best interests, not Shannon’s.

  She shook off the memory. She couldn’t stand to be reminded of Scott or Jake. Neither of them mattered to her anymore. The only person who mattered in her life was here in this room.

  “Sweetie, there was no need for you to call your dad. He’s too far away to be of any help,” she said, fighting to keep her voice even.

  Seeing the loneliness in Shannon’s blue eyes and knowing how much she wanted her father to care about her, Andrea eased her daughter into her arms. “It’s okay. I’m here and everything will be fine. You’ll see.”

  She felt Shannon’s tears on her shoulder, the heaving of her daughter’s chest against hers. She stroked her daughter’s blond hair gently, loving her as she had never loved anyo
ne in her life. Shannon meant everything to her.

  A nurse entered the curtained space. “We’re taking your daughter for an X-ray, then if everything is okay, she’ll be going home.”

  Giving Shannon one more hug, Andrea whispered, “This will be over soon.”

  Shannon’s glance was a blend of bravado and uncertainty as the nurse moved to unlock the brakes on the stretcher then pushed it toward the corridor.

  “I’ll be here when you get back,” Andrea murmured, clutching her purse tighter to ward off the chilling thought that in the past few hours so much had changed between them.

  In the four years since the divorce, Andrea had watched her daughter blossom into a beautiful, independent teenager. A young woman who was carefree and happy, who shared everything in her life with her mother. And that’s why the call Shannon had made to her father hurt so much. She had been there for her daughter, had cared for her and loved her, and now when she needed Shannon to show a little appreciation for all her efforts. Shannon had called Scott, the one person in her life who had hurt her in ways she was still trying to deal with. It wasn’t fair.

  Despite everything, she and Shannon were best friends. No one could come between them. Not now. Not ever. Shannon had always confided in her...always.

  Until now. Suddenly her anger shifted, twisted in her chest, forming a ball of fear. Fear mixed with foreboding as Andrea waited for Shannon’s return. They were a team. They would get through this together.

  Copyright © 2017 by Ruth MacLean

  ISBN-13: 9781488017087

  Shelter in the Tropics

  Copyright © 2017 by Cara Lockwood

  All rights reserved. By payment of the required fees, you have been granted the non-exclusive, non-transferable right to access and read the text of this e-book on-screen. No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, down-loaded, decompiled, reverse engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of publisher, Harlequin Enterprises Limited, 225 Duncan Mill Road, Don Mills, Ontario, M3B 3K9 Canada.