Climbing out of her seat and into the aisle, she tried to ignore the numerous heads that were turned at her direction. As she put her briefcase on the floor, a platinum-blond woman put a hand on her arm.
“I’ve been married three times, honey. After the first one dumped me, I said fool me once, but...”
“Sorry. Have to go,” Meg blurted as cheerily as she could, reaching up to take down her traveling bag. Three men and a newspaper stood up to help her.
Forcing a smile that felt more like a grimace, she took the bag and started up the aisle. “Thanks, Robert. That was just great!”
Sweetheart, this is only the beginning!
*****
Just as the cab crunched to a stop in the gravel parking lot, the station’s lone, outside speaker blared out.
“Arriving from Boston, Providence. Stopping at Westerly, New London...”
“We made it. Thanks a lot for the ride.”
“It’s okay,” Evan mumbled, climbing out of the car and moving around to open the trunk.
“So do you stick around and wait now?”
“No.” He glared and dropped the kid’s suitcase unceremoniously on the platform.
“I don’t get back to Newport very much anymore. I was only supposed to come up for the weekend, this time. But I caught a bug or something, so I ended up staying longer. But maybe I’ll see you around next time.”
“I wouldn’t count on it.”
The whistle blast from the arriving train drowned out his words. Evan closed the trunk as he watched the kid turn and go stand in line with other passengers. He’d been short and impatient. But how could he be anything else, considering all he had on his mind? He glanced again at young Matthew Rand. Dressed in his preppy clothes, his suitcase between his feet, he was already chatting with a couple of people and waiting for passengers to disembark. Caught a bug! He didn’t have a care in the world. Everything was taken care of for him. So unlike Jada.
Shaking his head, he climbed into the cab. A half dozen arriving passengers were already trickling into the parking lot. Opening the dash, he checked the phone again. It was on. Jada wouldn’t do anything stupid, like not calling him. No, one thing that girl had was a brain. What she lacked in experience, she was picking up too quick.
“Wakefield?”
“No!” he barked without even turning to look.
Two businessmen huffed off.
Evan jammed the key into the ignition.
“How about Narragansett?”
“No!” This time he turned and glared at the three college-age girls peering through the window. “Look at the side. N-E-W-P-O-R-T. Yellow cab. Do you want me to sound it out?”
“Jerk!” one of them crabbed, taking a step back.
“But cute!” the other one whispered. “Did you see those eyelashes...?”
Evan closed his eyes, shaking his head in disgust. Christ, they’re getting dumber every year.
Just then the back door of the cab opened, and someone started to get in.
“Look, I’m not going to Wakefield. And I’m not going to Narragansett. And I’m not going to the goddamn North Pole...”
Evan turned, prepared to continue, but the words stuck in his craw as he looked past a pair of wire-rimmed eyeglasses into the deepest, prettiest brown eyes he’d seen in a long time.
“Yes, I know. You’re going to Newport.” She smiled. “I can spell.”
CHAPTER 3
As the cab sped down the long incline of the new bridge, Meg gazed out the window at the remains of the ancient bridge that sat on the western end of it. The old Jamestown Bridge had been a decrepit, rusted, two-lane thing with gaping cracks in the cement pilings. Most of the structure had been taken down few years ago. The short stretch left was used as a fishing pier
Meg looked ahead at the island in front of them. The hilly ridge that ran straight up the center of it was a patchwork of fields bordered with crumbling stone walls, dotted with old farmhouses and new developments. Beyond the island, through the bright afternoon haze, she could see the graceful tops of the Newport Bridge.
She craned her neck and took another look at what was left of the old bridge and the shimmering waters of the Narragansett Bay.
Aren’t you glad that the old eyesore is gone?
She wasn’t going to make another spectacle of herself, so she decided to ignore Robert’s voice.
The old has to give way to the new. The dead to the living.
She turned her face out at the direction of other window and started counting the number of cars passing by.
You can’t ignore it, Meg. I’m vapor, he is flesh. I am dead, he is alive.
“Who?” she asked irritably, looking around.
The taxi cab driver. Look at his name tag. Evan Knight. A good strong name.
Meg shook her head and peered out the front windshield as the two lanes of traffic suddenly slowed considerably.
A good looking man! Strong jaw! Keen eyes! Needs a hair cut, but...
“Go away!” she snapped.
“Talking to me?” the driver asked adjusting his driver’s mirror, so he could see her face.
Hazel eyes! Meg, look at those eyelashes.
Meg pushed up her glasses on the bridge of her nose. “No...I mean yes. I said we aren’t going...away...I mean, going...a way I know very well.”
Introduce yourself, Meg!
She ground her teeth and tried to keep calm.
A bit of small talk. It’s not so difficult. Do it, Meg.
She pulled her briefcase onto her lap and pretended to rummage through it.
Do you want me to start something up?
“Leave it, Robert!” she snapped under her breath.
“Something wrong?”
Meg peeked from behind her briefcase at the man behind the wheel. The traffic had come to a full stop, so it seemed there would be no escaping her meddling husband or the cool eyes of the driver.
“I...I was just talking to my...” She stopped herself. She was sick of people looking at her like she was some lunatic just out the bin for the day. “I just realized I left a book...on the train.”
“You said something else. Rob...”
“Robber!” she added quickly. “I was wondering if a robber could have taken it.”
“Robber! How interesting! A train robber!”
When she saw the way he rolled his eyes, she had to fight back an urge to reach forward and smack him on the back of the head.
Very good, Meg! You’re really off to a great start!
She closed her eyes for a moment, steeling herself against getting riled by her husband’s antics. When she opened them, the driver’s eyes flicked away from her face. He had definitely been staring at her. Slowly the traffic inched over the crest of the hill, and Meg could see the cars backed up all the way to the Newport Bridge.
“We don’t seem to be moving, are we?”
Frowning into the rearview mirror at her, the driver pointed at the bridge. “Do you see the lights flashing just about half way across? Accident.”
“You mean we’re stuck here?”
“This particular model cab isn’t equipped with pontoons.”
“Isn’t there a short cut?”
The blue green eyes stared at her beneath furrowed brows. “Sure. We can cut across the median, drive all the way to Providence, fight through the traffic there, and come down the other side of the Bay. It should take about three hours at this time of day.”
“I was being sarcastic!”
“So was I,” he said.
There was a moment of silence as the driver raked his hand through his hair and looked at his watch. “It shouldn’t take them too long to clear the mess.”
“Well, it’s a pretty view. I guess I really don’t mind waiting.”
He rolled down his window, and the salt breeze swept through the cab.
“Do you come here often?” he asked.
She had to go back in her memory a few years, but that sounded
like a pickup line.
“Once a year.”
“Business? Or a little ‘R and R’?”
“A bit of both!” It wasn’t exactly a lie, Meg quickly reminded herself. She had a briefcase full of manuscripts to read. She knew it would sound a little bit morbid to say she was here for a vacation with her dead husband. And there was no way she was going to give this guy the impression that she was here all alone.
“Well, it’s a good time of the year to be here.”
She just nodded and fell silent, sending thanks heavenward that Robert had decided to cut her a break. She placed the briefcase back on the floor next to her feet, double checked the handle to her traveling bag, and--with great care--picked a speck of lint off her dress pants. Meg did anything and everything but look up and return the driver’s gaze. She knew he was watching her, and that somehow flustered her.
“Well, looks like things are clearing up there.”
She let out a breath of relief as the cab started moving again.
A moment later as they left the toll booth, Meg saw the driver answer his cell phone.
“Jada!”
A Volvo cut in front of the cab, and Meg was thrown forward as the driver slammed on his brakes, simultaneously jamming his hand on the horn.
“What’s wrong, Jada? I can’t hear you.”
Meg reached for the door grip as the cab swerved suddenly into the faster moving left lane. The driver gunned it, and the vehicle shot forward.
“You are in labor now? I’ll be there in less than a half an hour!”
She knew it was none of her business, but still she couldn’t help but overhear.
“What do you mean, that’ll be too late? What? You broke your water when?”
Meg put a hand on the back of the front seat, wedging herself in as the cab cut into the oncoming traffic lane for the length of a few cars and then swerved back into their own lane. She glanced on the seat in vain for a seatbelt.
“You’re bleeding? Christ. Where’s Mrs. Jeffers? What? Have you called the doctor? Call 911!”
Meg sat forward in her seat, her eyes flitting back and forth from the road to the driver’s profile.
“Don’t cry, honey. Fine! Tell Mrs...Yeah, I’ll be there. Yeah! I’m coming now. Right now!”
Meg watched him throw the phone on the seat.
“I have an emergency.”
“I understand!” she said quickly.
He punched the button for his emergency flashers and pulled out again into the line of oncoming traffic. Meg’s knuckles went white on the door handle.
“I don’t have enough time to take you to the Inn. I won’t even have enough time to drop you at the Visitor’s Center. Get over, you sonovabitch.”
“It’s okay,” she said, wincing as a van squeezed over just in time to avoid a head on collision. “Just...just do what you have to do. I’ll call for a cab at the hospital.”
“Right. But we’ve got one stop first.”
“Fine,” she said weakly, bouncing to one end of the seat as the cab cut across three lanes of traffic onto the exit ramp.
The Indy 500 had nothing on that quick trip through the narrow, back streets of Newport--not the way this man drove. In the space of about a minute, Meg lost count of how many stop signs he’d run and decided it would be more in her interest to focus on keeping herself from getting thrown around like a sack of potatoes in the back seat. But nothing could prepare her for the final bank shot into a parking lot and the screeching stop. Her head practically came off its hinges before hitting the floor of the cab.
“You okay?”
With her butt in the air in the back seat, she rubbed her neck and looked into his face. “I...I think so.”
“Good,” he said, throwing open his door. Meg heard the trunk pop open. “Then throw your stuff in back. I’ll get Jada. She’ll be more comfortable sitting with you.”
“Safer, anyway.”
He grunted something unintelligible and hopped out of the cab.
It took Meg a moment to clear her head. Looking in the direction that the driver had sprinted, she saw him yank open a graffiti covered door of an apartment building. As the door swung wide, an elderly lady with a pair of toddlers hanging onto her skirts stepped out, holding the arm of a very pregnant young woman. Meg sprang into action.
She had all her stuff in the trunk and was standing holding open the door of the cab by the time they reached it.
“Do you want me to come with you, Jada?” the old woman asked anxiously, with a quick look at the two little ones now eyeing the action from the doorway.
“No. I’ll be...”
Meg watched helplessly as the young woman grabbed at the door with one hand and her belly with the other. Her face drained of all color as she gasped for breath.
“What’s wrong?” the driver asked.
Meg had seen enough movies to know what was happening. “She’s having contractions.”
“Do you know what to do?”
She looked into Jada’s face and nodded quickly. “Yeah! Get her to the hospital! Now!”
Once the contraction passed and the young woman had been eased into the back seat, the cab took off like a bolt of lightning.
Meg held onto the pregnant woman’s hand and looked at her with concern. Jada’s head was now lying against Meg’s shoulder, and a strange and precious feeling washed through her as the cab sped toward the hospital--the feeling that she was needed by this stranger. She stroked the soft hands and whispered words of comfort in her ear.
She was so young. Too young, Meg thought, glowering at the driver as he pulled another of his driving stunts, cutting around traffic stopped at a red light.
“I’m scared,” Jada whispered quietly.
“I don’t blame you, sweetheart, but you’ll be just fine.” Meg put her arm around her shoulder. “Everything will be just fine.”
Meg looked up when she heard the driver on the phone with the hospital.
“It hurts. It hurts so much.” Jada held her breath and twisted in obvious pain. “It’s starting again.”
Meg remembered something about timing the contractions and quickly glanced at her watch. The last one couldn’t have been more than two minutes earlier. She frowned, wishing she knew if that was good or bad. “Breathe! Breathe.”
The pain seemed to lessen in about a minute and Jada opened her eyes. “I’m bleeding,” she whispered. “I think I’m going to lose the baby.”
Meg wiped the young woman's tears. Looking down, she could see traces of a dark stain on the hem of her long blouse. If it was blood, there wasn’t very much of it. “Everything will be okay. Just try to relax, Jada. We’ll be at the hospital soon, and...”
“Don’t leave me.” She clutched tighter to Meg’s hand. “I’m so scared! Please!”
Meg looked up and found the driver’s piercing eyes on her.
“We’re almost there,” he said quietly.
She nodded and looked again at Jada.
“It’s coming again!” This time she moaned out loud. “Oh, God. It hurts so much. It hurts!”
Two minutes between the contractions now. “Breathe!”
“Please. Please don’t leave me! I don’t know what to do! I’m afraid.”
Meg looked down at the contrast of Jada’s pale face against her silky dark hair. There was a thin film of sweat appearing on the fair skin of her forehead. She looked young, fragile, and her eyes were wild with panic. The cab screeched up to the E.R. doors.
“I won’t leave you, Jada.” Meg promised quietly. “I promise.”
CHAPTER 4
Evan grimaced at the terrible taste of the coffee. Holding the steaming paper cup in one hand, he headed back through the gray doors to the waiting area. Three hours of pacing were starting to take their toll on him, and he leaned wearily against a lime green wall.
When they’d arrived, Jada had been rushed into the delivery room after the briefest examination. And to his great relief, the woman--his pass
enger--had gone in there with her. Evan realized that he didn’t even know her name.
He’d told himself this noon that he’d be ready. That he’d try to do better when the next time came. But faced with Jada’s pain and her near hysteria, he’d proved to be an even bigger dope than he was last night. Struck speechless by the whole thing, all he’d been able to do was to drive like a maniac and get her here, but beyond that, he’d really offered no support at all. Some father stand-in he was turning out to be!
He shook his head. Someone up there must of been watching over this little girl to send someone like this woman to help out. Whoever she was, she seemed to know what she was doing; her confidence had really helped keep Jada calm. Funny, though, she’d looked kind of pale, too, before disappearing into the delivery room.
Evan’s mind returned to Jada and how exhausted she must be by now. They had both been up for most of the night and all day today. He wasn’t nine months pregnant, but he still felt like crap. Glancing over at a receptionist who was hurriedly typing away on a computer, he wondered if he could risk approaching her again. It had to be at least half an hour since he’d last checked with her.
Before he had taken two steps in the direction of the desk, he saw the double doors open and a rather pale ex-passenger step through.
He changed course and walked toward her, instead.
“Is she still is labor?”
“No,” she said somewhat testily. “They’re finishing up with Jada and the baby now, but she wanted you to know that it’s a boy.”
Even with her glasses on, he could see the dark circles under her eyes. She looked spent.
“That’s great!” he said excitedly. “Is she okay, then?”
“Is she okay?” She took a step closer to him. “Like you care if she is okay!”
Evan frowned and then stared in disbelief as she suddenly erupted.
“How could you be such an insensitive jerk! You just stand here and sip your coffee...Mr. Cool...and ask if she’s okay?”
“What?” he asked uncomprehendingly, frowning in the direction of the receptionist who was eyeing them with amusement.
She shoved his hand and spilled the hot coffee down the front of his shirt.
Made in Heaven Page 2
