The Seven Year Secret
Page 25
He was completely unprepared for their skepticism. Which was putting it mildly. The last director he phoned, his old nemesis in Miami, Jay Durham, laughed outright.
“O’Rourke, you’ve been smoking funny stuff. I’m looking out my office window at one of the most beautiful, sunny days we’ve had all year. If you think I’m gonna put hurricane preparations in motion on the basis of your say-so, you’re nuts.”
The crack of Jay’s receiver practically deafened Connor. He entered the driveway at Forrest Memorial, unable to appreciate the beauty of the place. He was sick with worry over Liddy Bea, and mad as hell that his years of tedious research were being sloughed off by colleagues.
His queasy stomach tightened ominously when he spotted Mallory’s vehicle. Pulling in beside her, he ran all the way to the lobby, walked across it fast and dashed up the stairs. He burst onto the ward, gasping for air. The first person he saw was Liddy Bea. She wore a smile that bloomed tenfold the minute she noticed her dad.
“Daddy, Daddy! Mommy said you couldn’t come. She said you hadda work.”
Mallory whirled, her eyes traveling quickly over Connor’s disheveled appearance. “What are you doing here, Connor?”
“I phoned you to beg off. But Mandy said you’d received a call from Dr. Dahl and that you’d left the breakfast early. Hearing that scared me to death.”
“I’m sorry. Fredric wanted me to see the results of the latest lab work. Compared to last month, it’s fantastic. Her antibodies are virtually nonexistent. She’s been returned to the top of the national donor list. And since Fredric explained that he doesn’t know how long this chance will last, they’ve promised to double-screen her for every kidney they get.”
“Hey, that’s great.” Connor lifted Liddy Bea into his arms and gave her a kiss on the cheek.
“If you were planning to ask me to pick her up, Connor, things must not be going well for you.”
“You don’t know the half of it,” he said grimly. “My system indicates we’re about to be pummeled by a huge storm. Not one weather station I’ve phoned will give me the time of day.”
“Connor, that’s awful.” Mallory’s gaze was drawn to the window. “It is hard to imagine, though, with the sun shining like this. I guess I wouldn’t blame them, except that I saw your TV appearance. The data you presented was very convincing.”
“Thanks. Mal, I want to apologize for my behavior this morning. It was uncalled-for.”
She shrugged off his words. “If what you’re saying is true, I was wrong for making such a big stink. I’ll take Liddy Bea home and let Alec know I’m taking the rest of the day off. How long do you expect the storm to last? Will it blow out by Saturday?”
Connor wished he could assure her that their wedding could go on as scheduled. “Only time will tell, Mallory. Until this plays out one way or the other, I probably won’t be home. My advice is stick close to a TV. And keep it tuned to a local weather channel.” Wrapping her in his free arm, he kissed her hard on the mouth.
Liddy Bea giggled as she watched them. “Everything’s gonna be all right, Daddy. On Saturday Mrs. Sun will shine. And before Mr. Moon comes out, you, me, Mommy and Boo Boo are gonna be a real family.”
The nursing staff standing around them clapped. But as Connor walked Mallory and Liddy Bea out to their car, he only wished he could be as optimistic as his daughter.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
A DAY INTO THE STORM VIGIL, Mallory brought sandwiches to the men. And a razor and clean shirt for Connor. “How’s it look?” she asked worriedly, taking care not to let Liddy Bea overhear. “Local forecasters are downplaying the urgency, even though they’ve upgraded the depression to a tropical storm.”
James snorted and said something like “Those fools!”
Liddy Bea ran over to hug her dad. Hoisting her up in his arms, Connor danced with her to where Mallory stood. “You two are a glad sight for weary eyes.” He kissed them both.
Liddy wriggled out of his arms and ran off to inspect something that caught her attention. Connor sorted out a series of graphs and showed them to Mallory. “Just look at this obvious buildup. The satellites in Panama have finally come to life. Havana’s calling it a deep trough. They’ve projected heavy wind and rain. But it’s more than that. Way more, Mal. Why won’t the forecasters listen to me? It hasn’t even been a year since they all reviewed my studies from the South Pacific.”
She nodded. “I know. By the way, Mark landed at Pensacola last night, and he said the final leg of his flight was pretty turbulent. This hurricane’s really going to happen. And it’s going to wreck our wedding, isn’t it?” she lamented. “Telling me to cancel had nothing to do with you getting cold feet, did it?”
“Not cancel, postpone. And God, no! How could you think that of me?”
“I just did,” she said bluntly. “Well, I’d better call the church and the florist and everyone, and then start phoning the people we’ve invited. Fortunately we kept the list to close friends—only fifty of them.” Grinning helplessly, she shook her head.
For Connor, the scene was déjà vu. Maybe he wasn’t destined to get married.
“I brought the guest list and my cell phone. May I use an empty desk? When I’m done, I’ll find out if anyone’s organizing hurricane-relief volunteers,” she muttered.
“I’d like you and Liddy Bea to stay. Depending on how the storm breaks after it passes Cuba, we’ll know in a matter of hours if it’s coming at us.”
James rocked back in his chair. “We don’t think it’ll veer off. Dr. O’Rourke’s probes in the Gulf have begun to trip. It’s as if the hurricane’s traveling along an underwater fault line.”
Liddy Bea sat on a quilted bed sack her mom spread on the floor, coloring. “Mommy, we should’ve brought Boo Boo. If it’s gonna storm, he’ll be scared.”
“Uncle Mark is driving up from the base. Even though he’s staying with Grandpapa, I’ll ask him to swing by the apartment to pick up Boo Boo. Mark still has a door key,” she informed Connor.
He stepped up behind the chair in which she sat and massaged her shoulders. “I’m sorry I foisted off the pup’s full care on you these last few days. This wasn’t my original plan.” Swinging her chair to face him, he curved her ring hand around his. Once her eyes lifted to meet his, Connor pressed his lips to the ring he’d placed on her finger the night he brought home the dog. “I’m sorry about having to shift the wedding, too. Shove it ahead a week. Two, max. Luckily, Mark has a full thirty-day leave.”
“I’ll ask the church secretary if we can put a tentative hold on a new date. By the way—this building is safe, isn’t it? And Dad’s office? God, Connor, have you phoned him and stressed how critical your early warning could be to coastal residents? He’s in a position to rattle a few cages.”
“Meteorologists ought to take my word.”
“But they’re not,” James declared from across the room. “If Senator Forrest has more clout, why not let him use it?”
“You’re right. It’s stupid to let ego stand in the way of possibly helping thousands.” He picked up the phone and punched in his future father-in-law’s private number. Mallory began making her own calls.
“Senator? Connor here. I hope I’m not interrupting, but I have an issue I need to discuss with you.” Practically hoarse from having talked so hard and fast to colleagues, Connor nevertheless managed to bring Brad up to date.
“What’s wrong with Jarvis and the others?” the senator barked. “Dammit, I’ll phone that knucklehead and have him meet me at your office. See you in ten minutes.”
In the interim ten minutes, clouds blanketed the sky, leaving Jarvis more prone to listen to Connor’s dire predictions when he arrived. “I’ve gotta admit, I don’t like the looks of these indicators, O’Rourke. It’s just…I’ve always relied on satellites. Hell, if those shadows on your video probe are an actual path, the storm’s racing toward St. George and Dog Island even as we speak.”
“I’ve been trying to tell you
that for two days. This sucker’s taking on legs your satellite can’t see. Here, check this latest report. The wind velocity’s picked up from sixty to seventy miles per hour just since I phoned the senator.”
“I’m sorry I doubted you, Connor.” Jarvis paced the perimeter of the office, nervously punching numbers into his cell phone. “What’s your guess as to an ETA for this tropical storm hitting our coast?”
“Hurricane, Donald,” Connor said, taking the liberty of using the top weather bureaucrat’s first name. “Our whole coast’s already at risk, as are the boot heels of Alabama, Mississippi and, of course, lower Louisiana.”
“No time to waste,” Brad insisted. “I’ll use my phone to notify Beatrice’s former hurricane volunteers. Mallory, what are you doing? If Jan Long needs help rounding up supplies or organizing evacuees, are you able to lend a hand?”
“I’m canceling wedding guests. Thus far, most of them think I’m being a total flake.” Her lower lip trembled. “Not that I blame them. It’s only in the last few minutes that our sun’s gone into hiding.”
“I’m sorry, honey,” Brad said, placing a hand over the mouthpiece of his phone. “But if you don’t trust Connor on this, what does that say for your future together?”
“I trust him,” she said emphatically. “I’m just disappointed. I’ve waited such a long time…and, well, given our previous mishap, I’m beginning to wonder if we’re jinxed or something.”
“No way,” Connor insisted from where he sat phoning his original list of weather directors a second time. “Once we get past this storm, our family will have clear sailing. All the weather forecasters will be begging for my system. From then on, I guarantee you won’t be able to pry me out of your bed. Not even if the roof falls on us.” He winked, finally forcing a smile out of Mallory.
“You expect me to believe that because—” She broke off teasing him when her phone rang. Everyone in the room automatically lunged for their own instruments at the sound.
“Fredric,” Mallory exclaimed. “Wow, is that telepathy, or what? You and Betty were next on my list. Connor’s storm-warning system shows Florida’s inner gulf, including Tallahassee, is in for a hurricane. We’re postponing our wedding for two weeks.”
Connor, whose eyes were always on either Liddy Bea or Mallory, saw a tremor suddenly course through her too-thin frame. Since he’d completed his last call, he cocked an ear toward hers.
“Fredric, is this for real? Yes. Yes! Oh, thank you! Lord, it’s a miracle. When?” She tipped the phone away from her mouth and beckoned her dad and Connor to come closer. “You guys won’t believe this,” she whispered. “The national donor list has another organ match for Liddy Bea. In Maine. Bangor, I think Fredric said. A teen in a boating accident. His parents have decided to donate his organs so that his death won’t seem quite so senseless. Isn’t that wonderful of them? And courageous.”
“It must be a tough call,” her father murmured. “Fredric’s sure of the match? I don’t think we could take another false alarm.”
“He said it’s a ninety-eight percent match. They don’t get much closer. Physicians in Bangor are making arrangements to fly us the kidney.” Tears filmed her eyes, and the hand that held her phone began to shake. “Maybe our tide is turning.”
“Wait,” Connor cautioned, “let me speak to him. Depending on when the flight takes off, they might not be permitted to land here.”
Mallory looked ashen. “Oh, no! This can’t happen to Liddy Bea. Not again.”
“Are you licensed to practice in any other state?” Connor was asking Fredric. “In Boston? Good.” Sliding a hand over the mouthpiece, he spoke softly to the senator. “Do you know of anyone with a corporate jet who might rent it to us ASAP? I have a pilot’s license, and so does Mark. If Dr. Dahl can get clearance at his old hospital in Boston to operate there, we could fly Liddy Bea out of the approaching storm more easily than having them try to land the kidney here. But we’d have to make that decision immediately.”
“Yeah, like now,” Jim reiterated from a space between the computers. He also wore earphones connected to a battery radio hooked to his belt. “If the whole south coast isn’t already broadcasting warnings, they should be. She just plowed across Havana without losing steam. National forecasters have now named our storm Hurricane Annalisa.”
Connor and Brad grew still. Jarvis turned shades of green.
First to recover, Connor punched a fist in the air. “It’s about damned time. We’ve been telling them this for hours.”
James smiled grimly. “National is taking major flak for not listening to you earlier. As well they should.”
“I’m glad my system’s working, but personal recognition isn’t what concerns me at the moment. Jim, please run those calculations again, based on where Annalisa is now. See how fast she’s moving. I need to know how much time we’ve got to reach the airport and ready a plane.”
“It’s two o’clock.” James fed figures into a program Connor had loaded on his computer. When the young tech looked up from his keypad, his eyes were worried. “She’s smoking. If you’re not off the ground by five, gale-force winds could keep you grounded until this time tomorrow. That’s provided she doesn’t hit us and stall. In that case, we could be looking at two days of taking a beating.”
Connor thrust the phone back at Mallory. “It’s not that I don’t trust you, James, but I need to calculate this for myself. Mallory, tell Dahl to collect whatever supplies he needs and meet us at the airport no later than three-thirty. Senator, can you lay hands on a plane by then?”
“I think so.”
Mallory relayed Connor’s message. When she hung up, she went to Liddy Bea, who’d fallen asleep on the bed sack. Wrapping the child and lifting her, Mallory went to stand by Connor. “Would you really leave in the middle of this mess and fly us to Boston?”
He glanced up, frowning. “Do you imagine I’d send you two off alone to face something as critical as a transplant?”
She raised one shoulder in a negligent shrug. “After we…argued the other day and you charged out of the house, I did think you’d put your work before anything. And now that your predictions are actually coming to pass…”
“First of all, you and Liddy Bea will always be the number-one priority in my life. The other day, I didn’t see a problem with having Marta, who’s essentially family, watch her for a few hours. As for dealing with the hurricane, my system did its job. I tried my best to get the attention of weather-station directors. Now Annalisa is the mayor’s problem and the governor’s.”
Mallory leaned over and kissed Connor’s mouth, even though it was awkward to do while holding a sleeping child.
His hands came up to caress her face. Their kiss continued until Bradford cleared his throat. Even then Mallory pulled back, but Connor rose from his chair to follow her lips.
“Knock it off, you two lovebirds,” the senator growled. “I got us a plane, son. A nice six-seater. It’ll be gassed up and air-ready by the time we drive out there.”
Jarvis joined their circle. “Reaching the airport may be more of a task than you think, Brad. A lot of businesses have closed early to let workers go home and board up their houses. The roads are clogged. Damn! The mayor should’ve organized a more orderly dismissal.”
“I’ll handle getting us to the airport,” Bradford said. “Davis drives this city like he owns it.”
Connor began stowing his reports in a drawer. “James. You’ve done a bang-up job. It’s up to you whether you want to stay and record Annalisa’s progress. Or you can leave now to be with your family. Before the phone lines get bogged down, you’d better let your mom know one way or the other.”
“Thanks, Professor O’Rourke. I’d kinda like to see this through. I’m already thinking it’ll make great report material for my advanced statistical weather prediction course.”
Connor and the other men laughed, which awakened Liddy Bea. She roused and rubbed her eyes. “What’s funny, Daddy?”
Mallory telegraphed him a grateful smile. “We’re going to take a ride on an airplane, Liddy Bea. You, me, Daddy, Grandpapa and Dr. Dahl.”
“Not Uncle Mark, and Boo Boo?”
“Maybe Uncle Mark, if Grandpapa asks Davis to bring him. Marta will have to take care of Boo Boo until we return, though.” Mallory addressed her dad. “Will you break that news to Marta when you phone Davis? Or better yet, let me talk to Marta myself. I need her to finish calling our wedding guests.”
The old man rolled his eyes, but he did as she asked.
ALL THE ADULTS WERE ANXIOUS because it took Davis so long to reach the campus office. Part of the reason he was late was that Mark had asked him to swing by the apartment to grab Liddy Bea’s favorite stuffed dog.
“Thanks,” Connor and Mallory exclaimed in unison.
Their ride to the airport was slow. Lines of cars and pickups loaded with plywood to board up house windows blocked major through streets. Wind gusts drove torrents of rain over the limo’s broad windshield. Thankfully, Liddy Bea snuggled down in Connor’s arms with her stuffed dog and drifted back to sleep.
The uglier the sky grew, the more Mallory fussed and fidgeted. “Connor, I feel rotten for doubting you, even for a second. But…are you positive you shouldn’t stay here?”
“Yeah, Connor.” Brad, sitting beside Davis, looked over his shoulder. “Mark and I have been through a transplant procedure. No reason we can’t provide Mallory total support.”