The Charm Offensive

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The Charm Offensive Page 16

by Cari Lynn Webb


  “Don’t leave me.” Tension dominated April’s whisper, making her voice brittle. “I can’t die here alone. On the floor.”

  “No one is dying,” Sophie shouted. “I have to call for help.”

  April refused to release Sophie’s arm. Sophie’s throat tightened against the fear. More blood seeped through April’s nightshirt. “My phone’s on the nightstand,” April murmured.

  Sophie stretched into the bedroom, clawing with her free hand toward her purse on the floor. “I won’t let go. I just need my phone.”

  One small lunge and her fingers caught the purse strap. In seconds she had 911 alerted and an ambulance on the way. She squeezed April’s arm. “I need to unlock the door.”

  April shook her head. “You can’t leave me.”

  Sophie stretched again, catching the phone number on the front of the Sugar Beet Pantry bag sitting on the nightstand. But her fingers weren’t steady. Meanwhile, April kept getting more and more pale, a color so light Sophie had never seen it before. But April never lost the strength in her grip on Sophie’s arm. That remained steady, firm and constant, just like Tessa’s grip all those years ago.

  On the third try, Sophie finally entered the phone number correctly. At Liv’s happy greeting, relief zipped through Sophie. She managed to get out what was happening, tossed her phone on the floor and wrapped her arms around April as she concentrated on the sound of the siren.

  She heard sirens every day in the city, considered them backdrop noise, something she paid attention to before crossing the street. But for the second time in her life, the siren seemed too distant, too slow, too quiet. She willed the paramedics to hurry. Willed the siren to get louder. Willed April to stay with her.

  Sophie closed her eyes and counted to one hundred, just like she’d done while waiting with her sister and newborn niece. Counted to keep the fear contained. Counted to keep herself breathing.

  At her fifth time reaching a hundred, the siren blared outside the apartment building. Finally. Hearing noises nearby, she called out, “In the bathroom!”

  Liv rushed in behind the paramedics. Sophie scooted aside to give the paramedics room to work. Secure on the gurney, April cried out for Sophie.

  She used the toilet to push herself up and moved to the doorway. “I’m here, April.” She grabbed April’s hand. “I’m not leaving you.”

  April’s head dropped against the pillow before her eyes closed.

  Sophie looked at the paramedic, composed and young. “I’m riding with her.”

  The paramedic adjusted the oxygen tube beneath April’s nose. “You’ll need to release her hand for now or we won’t get out of the apartment.”

  Sophie squeezed April’s fingers. “I’m right here. I’ll be with you the whole time.”

  Liv said, “I’ll call Kay and take her to the hospital.”

  “Thanks.” Sophie tipped her head toward the apartment. “It’s a mess in there.”

  “I’ve got it.” Liv nodded.

  Sophie followed the paramedics into the hallway. The red lights from the ambulance flashed against the entryway.

  The paramedics loaded April inside the emergency vehicle. Sophie got in and sat, twisting her hands, trying to keep control. Another ambulance ride. Another drive full of uncertainty. But April was still conscious. Tessa hadn’t been at this point. April hadn’t delivered her twins. Tessa had had Ella before she’d been carried from the basement. Sophie’s arms were empty; she wasn’t holding Ella’s frail body this time. She wasn’t deciding if she should ride in Ella’s ambulance or her sister’s.

  Clearing her mind, Sophie hit her autopilot switch and held April’s hand without shaking. Kept her tone soothing without a quiver in her voice. Buried the tears, the sobs and the fear. Emotions ricocheted through her and they’d bring her to her knees eventually, but that’d come later. Later she’d cry, scream and shake. When she was alone in her bedroom. Not now. There wasn’t time to fall apart now.

  * * *

  AN HOUR LATER, Sophie stretched her legs, leaned against the stiff plastic chair and exhaled her first steady breath. The ER doctor rushed away, through the wide doors, already moving on to her next patient, leaving Sophie to gather herself. April and the twins were stable. No emergency delivery had been required. April might make it to term, but she’d do that under the care of the doctors and nurses at Bay Water Women’s and Children’s Hospital.

  All Sophie was waiting for now was April’s room number. The twins hadn’t been moved to the neonatal intensive care unit and April hadn’t been put in isolation like her niece and sister had been all those years ago.

  Tubes and monitors of every kind had covered Ella’s tiny body. She’d been more wires than skin and bones. The memory still made Sophie’s breath stutter, even though it was almost ten years later.

  Sophie checked the time. She had to pick up Ella from her therapy in less than twenty minutes. She’d promised to take Ella with her to Dr. Bradshaw’s office to collect the kittens Brad had rescued. She scrolled through her contacts, clicked on Ruthie’s number, then noticed the date on her phone screen. Ruthie and Matt had left that morning for a week in Napa to scout out potential wedding venues. Ruthie had already texted Sophie pictures of one hillside winery. Charlotte had been sick and absent from school that day. Sophie couldn’t call Charlotte’s mother to watch Ella. And Kay needed to get to the hospital, not the vet’s office.

  Ella’s therapist would let her stay. She’d understand. She might even bring Ella to the hospital. Sophie watched another doctor approach an agitated man in his early thirties and an older couple. Not even a box of tissues seemed enough to contain their tears. No, Sophie wanted to believe everything would be fine with April and the twins. But what if it wasn’t? She didn’t want Ella there for that.

  Sophie scrolled through her recent call list. Brad’s name popped up more than once.

  If she called Brad, she’d have to admit she trusted him. If she asked Brad to pick up Ella that meant she did trust him. She shouldn’t trust him. She couldn’t trust him. Not this soon. Not with something as important as Ella.

  But she needed help. The PA system announced a code red. The ER staff scrambled. Sirens from other ambulances blared through the waiting room. Pages sounded for Dr. Morris stat. Dr. Reid stat. More rushing around the ER. And then the repeat: code red. Dr. Morris stat. Dr. Reid stat.

  Sophie hit the call button.

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  SOPHIE’S NAME FLASHED across the screen of Brad’s phone, then disappeared. The call ended before it had even begun. Most likely a butt dial. He’d been known to accidentally make a few of those calls himself.

  This was about the time Sophie usually visited April. She was probably racing from April’s place to the Pampered Pooch with her phone unlocked and shoved in her back pocket. He put his phone down before the image made him smile. He’d vowed no more Sophie Callahan. “Sorry. Where were we?”

  “You were picking my brain for places George and I traveled.” Evie patted a Whisk and Whip Pastry Shop napkin against the corner of her mouth.

  “Actually I was picking your brain for specific hotels you and George stayed at.” Brad’s phone lit up and Sophie’s name filled the screen. Only once. Then nothing. If he did see Sophie again soon, he’d enjoy teasing her about so many crank calls. That wasn’t happening—seeing Sophie—anytime soon. The only Callahan he planned to see soon was George. He studied Evie. “You were evading the question.”

  Evie folded her napkin into a neat square. “It’s not appropriate to reveal details about one’s relationships.”

  “It’s even more inappropriate to steal from one’s girlfriend,” Brad countered.

  “It just feels...” Evie paused. “Awkward.”

  “I won’t judge.”

  “But it’s as if I’m sharing
my personal life with my own son.” Evie glanced at the pastry shop’s menu posted on the wall and took a sip of water from her glass.

  He noticed the slight pink staining her cheeks. That she thought of Brad as her own son made his cheeks slightly warmer. He hated prying, but he hated even more letting Evie down. Evie mattered too much for that. “You know I can keep secrets better than anyone in my family.”

  “I’m thankful for that every day.”

  Another call came through from Sophie. But this one didn’t end. Her name remained on the screen. Brad frowned, then looked at Evie across the small round table. He wanted to send Sophie’s call to voice mail, but hesitated. What if she needed him? What if these weren’t accidental crank calls? “Sorry, I have to take this.”

  “Go on.” Evie picked up her tea mug and jumped up from her chair, her agile movement betraying her joy at the sudden reprieve. “I’ll give you a moment and get more hot water.”

  “And then answer my questions.” Brad picked up his phone.

  “Take your call.” Evie rushed to the counter.

  Brad answered and was about to tease Sophie, but a page for a Dr. Reid stat blared through his phone, vibrating against his eardrum. He straightened and his legs tensed, lifting him partially out of the chair, as if that page had been for him. He plugged his free ear with his finger and spoke into the phone, no humor in his voice, everything focused on the woman on the other end of the call. “Sophie. Where are you? What’s happened?”

  “At Bay Water Women’s and Children’s Hospital. With April.” Static and sirens mixed with her voice.

  “Are you okay?” Brad asked.

  A page for Dr. Morris covered her silence.

  “Sophie?” he repeated.

  “Fine. I’m fine.” Again more static interrupted her words. “I shouldn’t have bothered you.”

  He wanted to be bothered by Sophie. Anytime. He wanted to help her. Anytime. He wanted to matter to her. All the time. He shoved that last notion aside to revise later. “What do you need?”

  “I’ll handle it,” Sophie said.

  Evie returned and watched Brad. Concern drew her eyebrows down beneath her glasses. She really was like a mom to him. Evelyn knew his moods probably better than his own mother.

  “Sophie. You called. You need help.” Brad squeezed his phone as if that would be enough to force the doubt out of Sophie. “Let me help.”

  “It’s Ella.”

  “Ella,” Brad repeated. Another spike of panic shot him out of his chair. He bumped into the table, knocking his notepad to the ground and tried to steady the sudden rushing in his ears. “What happened?”

  “Nothing, she’s fine.” Sophie paused, then rushed on. “She needs to be picked up from her vision therapist’s office. And I promised her we’d get the kittens. It’s okay. April is waiting on her room. I’ll get Ella and come back here.”

  Brad grabbed his pen and several napkins. “Where is Ella?”

  “I shouldn’t have bothered you. You’re busy.”

  “But you did call me.” Brad clenched the pen and tried to dull the clipped edge in his tone. Why wouldn’t the woman just listen? “And I’m not busy. Where is Ella’s therapist?”

  “Sun Tower Medical offices in the Heights. The therapist’s name is Dr. Sanders.”

  “And the kittens?”

  “I’ll pick them up later.”

  “But you promised Ella.” Brad wrote down Sanders on the napkin.

  “It’s not the first time I’ve disappointed her.” Sophie cleared her voice. “I’ll call the vet when April is in a room.”

  “What’s the address?”

  “It’s Bay Water Women’s and Children’s Hospital in the Bay District.”

  “Not the hospital, Sophie. The vet.”

  “Dr. Bradshaw is over in the Sunset on 1st.”

  “What do I need to get Ella and the kittens?” Brad scribbled across another napkin. “Is there a password or code word?”

  “Code word?” Sophie repeated.

  Brad smashed the pen tip into the napkin wishing instead he could wrap Sophie in his arms and smash her cheek against his until she regained her focus. He’d never heard her so unsettled before. “Sophie, do I need permission to take Ella home from vision therapy?”

  “I’ll call Ella’s therapist now and tell her you can pick up Ella. Bring ID. Dr. Bradshaw will be more than happy to give you the kittens. He refuses to be a kennel service.”

  But Sophie sounded less than happy to let Brad lend a hand. He didn’t care. He was helping and she’d have to deal with it. “Got it. You concentrate on April. Ella and I will be just fine.”

  He ended the call before Sophie could argue or change her mind.

  “What can I do?” Evie asked.

  Brad checked the time on his phone, worried about whether he’d be able to get Ella and then get to the vet’s office during regular business hours. Driving across town in afternoon traffic would be a challenge. “Do you mind heading to Dr. Bradshaw’s office and bringing a litter of kittens to the Pampered Pooch? Sophie promised Ella they’d get the kittens this evening.” Brad handed Evie the napkin with the vet’s information. “I’ll get Ella and meet you at Sophie’s shop.”

  Brad slipped on his jacket, cleared their table and held the door for Evie. Outside on the sidewalk, Evie and Brad departed in opposite directions.

  * * *

  OVER AN HOUR LATER, Brad tossed his and Ella’s Roadside Burger wrappers in the pet shop’s garbage can and rubbed his stomach.

  Ella finished off her last French fry with the last sip of her shake. “Maybe we should hide the wrappers in the outside trash can.”

  “It isn’t our fault Roadside Burger is the best in town and we had a craving for burgers,” Brad said. “We can’t be held responsible.”

  Ella grinned and swung her legs, sitting on the stool behind the counter. The bells chimed and Evie walked in sideways, carrying a cardboard cat box and smiling. “Made it to the vet’s just in time. That Dr. Bradshaw is a force, but he’d never met the likes of me before.”

  Evie carried the box to the counter, set it down and turned her full attention on Ella.

  Brad stepped behind the counter beside Ella’s stool, close enough for her to take his arm if she needed. “Ella, this is Evelyn Davenport. Ms. Evie is like a second mom to me. She’s known me since I was in diapers.”

  “Even changed a fair share of those diapers, too.” Evie’s laughter filled the air. “Pleasure to meet you, Ella.”

  “Brad, you have two moms, sort of like me.” Ella pushed on her glasses and looked between Brad and Evie. “But if you changed his diapers then you’ve been around more than my one mom. But it’s okay because my auntie makes up for it. She’s the greatest mom.”

  “Your aunt certainly is. She called us to make sure we’d picked up the kittens.” Evie moved the box in front of her. “Your aunt knew you wouldn’t want them alone at Dr. Bradshaw’s another night.”

  “The kittens are home.” Ella clasped her hands together.

  “There’s only one problem,” Evie said. “Brad and I don’t have any clue what to do now.”

  Ella chewed on her bottom lip and pressed a button on her phone that announced the time. “We have to love them and cuddle with each one before we put them in their kennel for the night.”

  “I think we can handle that,” Brad said.

  “Except I have to shower,” Ella said. “It’s Monday and I have to stay on schedule. If I don’t, then Auntie says our mornings are too feisty.” Ella dropped her voice to a whisper. “I like school a lot. I just don’t like getting up for school very much.”

  “I had the same problem.” Brad chuckled. “What’s our plan?”

  “We can take the kittens upstairs,” Ella suggested
. The hope in her voice covered the sly edge in her tone. “I know how to shower. Auntie just likes to be within shouting distance, just in case.”

  “I’m not sure about bringing the kittens upstairs.” Evie tapped her fingers against the box. “If one dives under the sofa, then Ella, you’ll have to climb under there and help me. I’m afraid my old knees aren’t quite the same as they used to be.”

  Ella tipped her head. “You don’t sound very old, Ms. Evie.”

  “Aren’t you sweet,” Evie said. “Unfortunately, my body disagrees.”

  “My great-nana was old. She had a rusty voice and smelled like an old leather purse.” Ella slid off the stool and used the counter as her guide to Evie. “You smell like spring in a rose garden and your voice sounds like you sprinkled it with bells.”

  “That’s lovely, especially since one of my favorite places is my garden,” Evie said. “I spend a lot of time gardening since my husband passed.”

  “Maybe my great-nana needed a garden,” Ella said. “Auntie says Nana’s heart broke when my great-papa went to heaven and it never got fixed. I think her voice was rusty because she cried out all her tears and had none left for any of us. Do you still cry?”

  “Sometimes I do.” Evie met Brad’s gaze over Ella’s head.

  Evelyn Davenport rarely cried, or, at least Brad could count less than a handful of times he’d seen her cry. He’d been there for her most recent tears, in his office, when she’d recounted George Callahan’s misdeeds.

  “Maybe the kittens won’t make you so sad.” Ella grinned.

  “Your aunt suggested I get a new pet,” Evie said. “What do you think?”

  Ella tapped her fingers at the holes in the top of the box. “We’ll have to talk about it. It’s hard to decide between a dog and a cat. Can you have both?”

  “Probably not right now,” Evie said.

  “We can talk while you braid my hair after my shower.” Ella’s fingers paused on the box like a child afraid to be discovered with their hand in the cookie jar. “Can you braid hair? My auntie can only do a regular braid. But that’s okay because my friends’ moms can only do that, too. But Ruthie, she can do all kinds of fancy braids.”

 

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