Daniel's Gift

by Barbara Freethy

  "Merrilee, could you get me some coffee?" she asked.

  "What?" her sister replied, completely incensed. "You want me to leave?"

  "I can handle this."

  "Jenny, no."

  "A cup of coffee. Five minutes."

  Merrilee sighed. "Five minutes," she warned as she passed Luke.

  A full minute passed before Luke said anything at all. Jenny stared at the buttons on his shirt, at the crease in his slacks, at his expensive Italian shoes, anywhere and everywhere but at his face. With any luck, Merrilee would be back before he opened his mouth.

  "You look -- just the same," he said finally.

  They weren't the words she had expected to hear. But they were safe words, and she was grateful.

  "Hardly. I'm older now."

  "You don't look it. Your hair, it's the same color as dark chocolate. I think of you every time ..." His voice drifted away, and he shook his head in a punishing gesture.

  "Why are you here?" Jenny asked.

  His face tightened at her words. "I think Danny came to see me yesterday."

  Jenny swallowed hard, trying not to show any emotion. "I doubt that. He doesn't even know you."

  "A boy came to the door yesterday afternoon, but my wife answered it."

  "Your wife." The words cut her so deeply, Jenny sat down on the edge of the couch. His wife. Of course, she had known about his wife for years, but she had never heard Luke say the words. They sounded so intimate on his lips. Not that she cared. Of course she didn't care.

  Luke had been a lifetime ago, a youthful fantasy, a broken heart. She didn't care about him anymore. She hated him for not wanting her -- for not wanting Danny.

  Danny, her son, her beautiful baby. The one Luke had wanted her to abort. Her heart hardened into steel. "You must be mistaken," she said.

  "Denise said he was selling candy," Luke continued. "I only caught a glimpse of him, but I kept thinking about him last night. When I saw his picture in this morning's paper, I felt sure it was the same boy."

  "Sometimes Danny sells candy for his school."

  "So, he was in my neighborhood yesterday?"

  "Maybe. He was with a friend. I'm not sure exactly where they went. I was at work."

  "You don't know where your son goes after school?"

  Anger flared at his insinuation, and she stood up, squaring her shoulders. "I take good care of my son. What he does after school is none of your business."

  Jenny walked to the door of the waiting room. She had to get away from Luke.

  "Jenny, wait." Luke's voice stopped her.

  She paused, one hand on the edge of the doorjamb. "What?" she asked, her back to Luke.

  "Where is Danny's father?"

  She took in a deep breath and slowly counted to ten. "He's not here."

  "Isn't he?" Luke walked up to her and put a hand on her shoulder. He spun her around.

  His touch was searing, his eyes demanding, impatient.

  Oh God, he knew!

  "Is Danny my son?" Luke whispered, gripping her shoulders with hands so tight they bit into her skin.

  "No. No." She shook her head. "Why would you think that? You told me to get an abortion."

  "And you took my money. But that doesn't mean you got one. Besides, the paper said he's twelve years old."

  "So what?"

  "I can count."

  "I have to go. My son needs me." She struggled to pull out of his arms, but he wouldn't let her go.

  "Don't lie to me, Jenny."

  "I'm not."

  "You are. You're transparently honest, you always have been. You're not looking at me. You're avoiding me. Why? Because I'm Danny's father? Because you never told me we have a son?" Luke shook her, his eyes flaring with fury. "Danny's my son, isn't he?" He shook her again. "Isn't he?"

  Chapter Nine

  "Mrs. St. Claire?" The nurse called her name from a few steps away. Luke's hands tightened, then released. Jenny turned around, thankful to be free from Luke's punishing gaze.

  "Yes?"

  Leslie looked at her a little strangely. "The doctors are done. You can go in now."

  "Thank you. I'll be right there."

  "This isn't the end, Jenny," Luke said.

  "It is the end." Jenny faced him with as much courage as she could muster. "Go away, Luke. Danny isn't your son. You and I have absolutely nothing to talk about."

  Jenny abruptly turned and walked away, her back as stiff as a rod, her head held proudly, defiantly.

  It was a good exit line, Luke thought cynically, but he didn't believe her for a second. Damn her. She had had his baby twelve years ago and never said a word.

  She could deny the truth all she wanted, but his ego refused to entertain the possibility that there had been another man all those years ago. No, impossible.

  He had seen her face that day. Seen her tears. She had told him she was pregnant. She had said he was the father.

  Luke ran a hand through his hair in complete frustration. For the first time in a long time he didn't know what to do. He was married to another woman for God's sake. The easiest thing to do would be to walk away. Jenny didn't want him to be involved. Denise certainly wouldn't want him to be involved.

  But what about the boy? He saw the vision in his mind as clearly as he had the night before. Danny had called him Dad. How could he forget that?

  He couldn't. This wasn't over. Not by a long shot.

  * * *

  "Hey, he's leaving. My dad's leaving," Danny protested. "Come back. Come back," he shouted, but Luke stepped through the elevator doors and disappeared. "What's he doing? He's supposed to see me."

  Jacob chewed on a wad of tobacco as he considered the situation. "Looks like he's running scared. Too bad."

  "Too bad? I think it's terrible. What are you going to do?"

  "Me? I was thinking of catching some college football on the tube, maybe taking a snooze."

  "Sleep? You're going to sleep now?"

  Jacob shrugged. "It's just a thought."

  "I want you to stop my dad. Make him come back."

  "I think that's up to you, kid."

  "Me?" Danny looked at the elevator doors, then back at Jacob, who was walking upside down on the ceiling and whistling a silly tune. Making a sudden decision, Danny walked over to the elevator doors, paused, then tried to go through them. He found himself in midair and falling.

  "J-a-c-o-b!" he screamed.

  The elevator shaft was one long, dark tunnel. After an incredible free fall, Danny landed on top of the elevator, spread-eagled. He grabbed on to the sides with his fingertips, feeling like Indiana Jones on a wild adventure. The elevator seemed to be moving at an incredible pace. It was as terrifying as it was exciting.

  Jacob suddenly appeared next to him, sitting cross-legged and tossing a baseball up and down in one hand. "What's the matter, kid? Afraid you're going to die?"

  "Very funny." Danny pulled himself into a sitting position as the elevator stopped on a floor.

  "What are you doing, anyway?" Jacob asked. "Just out of curiosity."

  "I want to talk to my dad."

  "He ain't here." Jacob waved his hand around the shaft as the elevator creaked and groaned and lurched into another floor of descent.

  "I know that. He's inside this thing."

  "Then, maybe you ought to go inside."

  "How do I do that?"

  Jacob reached out and pulled open the top of the elevator as if he were popping the top on a can of soda. "Allow me."

  Danny jumped down into the elevator. Luke was standing against the back wall, his arms crossed in front of his chest, his expression grim. Next to him was an older woman, plain and square, dressed in a lumpy black dress and clutching an oversized black leather purse to her chest. A little girl, about seven, stood in front of the woman, holding a large red Tootsie Pop in her hand.

  Danny sighed. He wanted to talk to his dad alone, but he didn't have a choice. "Hey, Dad." Danny touched Luke's arm with his hand.r />
  Luke didn't look at him, but he did shake his arm, as if he had felt the phantom touch.

  "Dad, where are you going? You're supposed to be upstairs. You're supposed to be visiting me." Danny pointed to his chest. "Me, your kid, the one who's lying in a hospital bed."

  Luke didn't respond, he just shifted his weight from one foot to the other. Danny looked up at Jacob. "How can I make him hear me?"

  "You have to want it bad enough, that's all."

  "I do want it." Danny felt a sense of desperation. He didn't understand what was happening to him or to the world for that matter. Everything was crazy. He was invisible, maybe even dead. And Jacob wasn't helping at all.

  "What kind of an angel are you anyway?"

  Jacob laughed. "You ain't the first to ask that question."

  "I don't like this. I want to talk to my dad, and I want to do it, now."

  "Easy, kid," Jacob said.

  "I don't want to take it easy. I want to be alive again." Danny shouted. "This isn't fair. Why can't you just let me go back?"

  "Ain't up to me."

  "Then who?"

  Jacob grinned in a toothy, knowing way that made Danny even madder. "Why don't you try again? Only this time, start with the elevator switch." Jacob tipped his head toward the panels. "Give yourself some time. Better hurry. They're almost down now."

  Danny looked over at the buttons and impulsively jabbed the one that said Stop. The elevator came to a lurching halt.

  The older woman screamed as she braced her hand against the wall. The little girl buried her face in the woman's skirt and started to cry. Luke said, "Damn."

  "Oh, my. Oh, my," the woman said, panting with fear. "I don't like this. I don't like this at all."

  "It's okay," Luke said. "I'm sure they'll get us going again in just a second."

  The woman licked her lips and began to take in quick short breaths. "We're going to die. I just know we're going to die." She gripped the railing that ran along the back of the elevator.

  The little girl screamed louder.

  "We'll be fine," Luke said reassuringly. He reached out to pat the child on the head, but his gesture made her jump, and she dropped her Tootsie Pop on the floor.

  The little girl pointed an accusing finger at Luke, her mouth drooping even lower. "You made me drop my candy," she cried. "I want my candy."

  "I'll get it for you." Luke picked up the sticky red blob that was now covered in fine carpet hairs from the floor of the elevator.

  "It's dirty," the little girl wailed.

  "I'm sorry," Luke said.

  "I hate you," she said.

  Luke stepped back at the angry look on her ferocious little face.

  The older woman started pressing the walls with her hand. "I can't stand this. I have to get out of here. I can't breathe. The walls are closing in on me. I have to get out of here now." She put a hand to heart. "Oh my God, I'm having a heart attack."

  "Just calm down," Luke said. "Take deep breaths."

  The woman started to gasp for air.

  "Are we going die, Grandma?" the little girl asked with a trembling lip.

  "We're not going to die," Luke said loudly and firmly. "The elevator is stuck, that's all. Now, calm down, both of you."

  Danny looked up at Jacob and rolled his eyes. "Great idea, dude."

  Jacob laughed. "You wanted to talk to your dad. Here's your chance."

  "Okay. Okay."

  "Don't take all day now. The service people in this hospital are pretty quick about stuck elevators."

  "I'm thinking."

  "That's a good start."

  * * *

  Luke sighed as the little girl's wailing rose to a shrill peak. Any higher, and he'd bust an eardrum. He looked over at the box, hoping for an emergency phone. Sure enough, there was a panel just begging to be opened. He reached out his hand, but he couldn't touch the box. It was the strangest thing. His hand was blocked by something. He couldn't even straighten it out. He pushed harder.

  "Stop, you're hurting my shoulder," a voice said.

  "What?"

  "Ouch. Ooh, that tickles."

  Luke heard a giggle, then blinked as the shape in front of him became clear. A boy appeared before him, his mirror image -- Danny. Good Lord, he was seeing him again.

  "I don't want you to call anyone yet," Danny said. "We have to talk."

  "Talk?" Luke murmured as he put his hand on what looked like Danny's arm. But what he could see, he couldn't feel. The boy had no substance. He simply did not exist. "I'm not talking to you. You're not real. You're not here."

  "You can see me, can't you?"

  "Yes, but who are you? Danny?"

  "Who else would I be?"

  "Grandma, that man is talking to you," the little girl said, interrupting their conversation.

  Danny ignored her. "You're supposed to be upstairs, Dad. You're supposed to be visiting me."

  Luke stared at Danny's pleading blue eyes. He looked so damn real, and yet he couldn't be anything but a hallucination. "Your mother wouldn't let me."

  "Excuse me?" the woman in the elevator said, drawing Luke's attention back to her.

  "I wasn't talking to you."

  "Then who were you talking to?"

  "Him." Luke pointed at Danny.

  "I don't see anyone."

  "She can't see me, Dad. Only you can," Danny explained.

  "Oh, my God. I'm trapped in this elevator with a lunatic," the woman said, putting both her arms around the little girl.

  Luke sighed again, looking back at Danny. "I probably am crazy. Because I'm talking to you, and you don't exist."

  "You have to talk to Mom again. It's important."

  "Am I really your father?" Luke asked in bewilderment. He couldn't believe in this vision. He was a scientist, a man of logic, grounded in reality. Yet, here he was talking to an imaginary boy in an elevator stuck between the second and third floors.

  "Of course, you're my dad."

  "I never knew."

  "She said you didn't want me."

  "Want you? Of course, I want you," Luke said loudly.

  The woman next to him gasped. "Well, I don't want you. I'm a happily married woman. My goodness. Whatever are you thinking?"

  Luke licked his lips in desperation. He turned back to Danny, but the vision was fading. "Wait, don't go. I want to see you. I want to touch you. I want to feel that you're real."

  "Don't you dare lay a hand on me," the woman said. "I'll scream."

  "I'm not talking to you," Luke said with complete exasperation.

  Danny touched his arm. "Talk to Mom again. Don't wait too long. I'm hurt pretty bad. I might not make it."

  "Wait. How do you know that?"

  "I just do."

  * * *

  Luke hit the wall as the air in front of him was suddenly clear. No Danny. No nothing. "Damn it all," he swore.

  "Oh, my," the woman said. She started to breathe faster again. The little girl screamed.

  Finally the elevator began to move.

  When the doors opened on the first floor, the woman and child rushed out. Luke followed more slowly, not sure what to do. He had half a mind to go back and talk to Jenny. But what could he say? That he had seen Danny in his dreams and just now in the elevator? She would think he was crazy, too.

  And she would be right. He didn't believe in ghosts or visions. This was ridiculous, probably the result of too little sleep and too much anger over Denise's tubal ligation. He had kids on the brain, and his fatherly hormones were kicking into high gear.

  Just because Jenny had a twelve-year-old son didn't mean the boy was his. There could have been other men.

  But would she have gotten pregnant again so quickly?

  The answer was disturbingly clear. Of course not. Jenny had taken his money to get an abortion, then bailed out. She had had his son and never told him. He supposed he could understand why. He had made his position very clear at the time.

  Only now, things were different
. He wanted this boy who was made up of everything good that was Jenny and everything good that was him. Because what he had with Jenny had been great, splendid, the best time of his life. Unfortunately, staying with Jenny would have gotten in the way of everything he had wanted and everything his parents had wanted for him, medical school, prestige, money, and power.

  Now he had all those things, but he didn't have Jenny. And he didn't have his son. His shoulders stooped under the weight of his thoughts.

  Luke tried to walk away from the elevators, but his feet were heavy. When he moved, it felt like someone was hanging on to his neck, two thin arms -- a boy hitching a piggyback ride.

  Danny. Luke smiled to himself. The kid was persistent.

  Making a sudden decision, Luke turned toward the elevator and pushed the Up button. Maybe he couldn't get past Jenny to see Danny, but at the very least he could see Danny's doctors. One way or another he would get some answers.

  * * *

  Jenny looked up as Merrilee walked into Danny's hospital room. "Is Luke gone?"

  "Yes." Merrilee stopped a couple of feet from Jenny, looking uncomfortable and out of place. But then Merrilee had never been very good when people were sick. "He's so -- pale," Merrilee said. "I didn't realize."

  Jenny met Merrilee's eyes and saw fear and uncertainty in them. "He's going to make it," Jenny said fiercely.

  "Of course, he is." Merrilee thrust her chin in the air. "No doubt about it."

  "Right. No doubt."

  Silence fell between them, broken only by the beeps on the monitor and the sound of the ventilator pushing air in and out of her son's chest. So much equipment for one small boy. But it was giving him life, and that's all that mattered.

  "Jenny, maybe you should take a break," Merrilee said. "You've been here for hours. You need food and rest."

  "I'm not hungry."

  "When did you last eat? You spent half the evening looking for Danny and the rest of the night here in his room. You can't let yourself get sick."

  "Please, don't fuss." Jenny stroked Danny's hand. "I want to be here when he wakes up."

  Merrilee shifted her feet, still keeping a few feet of distance between herself and the bed. "Richard said he'd come by later. He had to meet with clients this morning." Merrilee fidgeted, running her hand under the collar of her blouse. "They're from out of town."