Tony cleared his throat to ease some of the tightness. “‘I’ve not been a good mother, but I’ve always loved you.’”
His hand trembled as he brushed her hair off her forehead. “I love you, too. I’m sorry, mamma.”
“Capire che sono orgoglioso di lei.” Her eyes closed.
“‘Understand that I’m so proud of you.’”
“Mamma – ”
“Sono molto orgoglioso di lei.” She barely spoke above a whisper. “Devo andare adesso.”
“‘I am very proud of you.’” Tony’s voice sounded harsh. “‘I must go now.’”
“No.” He grabbed her hand and held it to his wet cheek, letting the tears fall unashamedly down his face. “No, mamma, not yet. Not yet. I haven’t told you about Jesus, yet, mamma.”
She patted his hand back, her touch like that of a little child. Struggling to speak in English, she whispered, “I know Him, Derrick. You tell. I read every letter you send me. Over and over again, I read. Mio figlio.”
He didn’t see Tony leave and didn’t look up as the monitor attached to his mother’s heart sounded the alarm.
DERRICK leaned against the wall of the gymnasium, one foot propped against the wall behind him. He’d shed his shirt and wore only a sweat-soaked white T-shirt. He’d battled hard for his loss against boys half his age, and let them mock him for being old while they each gathered belongings and went home.
He’d given Tyrone, Alfonso, and Benny his phone number, and business cards. He’d told them to call him if they ever needed him, or to come to the hotel if they couldn’t call.
“You going to be here Sunday morning?” he asked as they started out of the gym.
They shrugged, almost in unison. But Benny spoke. “Maybe.”
Derrick smiled. “Well, maybe I’ll bring some doughnuts for breakfast.”
He caught their pleased smiles as they left. The slamming of the gym door echoed through the empty gym. Derrick looked at his watch. Nine-thirty. No wonder he felt so fatigued.
He was glad he went to the funeral this morning. He fought the desire to go visit Sarah now, to offer her comfort, maybe a shoulder to cry on.
Instead, he slipped on his shirt and jacket, found his tie and shoved it into his pocket, and rolled his head on his neck. She didn’t want to see him. He would leave that to the rest of the family.
Instead, he headed home, walking the downtown streets of his home town. The night air had a chill, reminding him that the beautiful, warm weather would soon be leaving them for the harshness of a Boston winter.
CHAPTER 7
SARAH rolled over and looked at the clock. With a groan, she pushed herself out of bed and sat on the side for a minute, holding her head in her hands. For two weeks now, she'd had a dull, throbbing headache – stress induced, she knew – but annoying just the same.
Energy was a thing of the past. All of it seemed to have been sucked right out of her until she nearly stumbled around. She didn’t have a choice. She had to go to work today. Two weeks off was long enough. Without a problem, she could spend the rest of her life in bed, grieving the man she loved so much, but she knew the only way to get her body moving again and her mind back on track was to plunge back into the real world.
She scooped her glasses off the night stand and trudged from the room, stopping to glance into Melissa’s bedroom. The bed was empty, so her roommate must have had a seven o’clock shift. Sarah was scheduled for three, and it was already nearly two. It was a fight to keep from calling in sick. But she wouldn’t do it. She would face everyone, accept the sympathies, try to keep from losing control, and help a few babies come into the world.
She turned on the water as hot as she could stand it and let the claw foot bathtub begin to fill. While it ran she popped a cup of water into the microwave to make a cup of tea.
Her apartment building had once been a house, and the last owners converted it into three apartments – two downstairs and one upstairs. Toys from her neighbor’s two kids littered the fenced backyard. She stood at the kitchen window while she waited for the water to heat and watched a four-year-old boy play in the sandbox. It was beautiful outside, sunny and warm if she went by the way he was dressed, and she took a deep breath. She was starting to feel better, but she didn’t want to feel better yet. She wanted to rail and cry and moan. She wanted to tear her clothes and put on sackcloth and ashes.
But life didn’t work that way. Even good, godly men got sick with terrible diseases and died before their seventy-fifth birthdays.
“EXCUSE me Mr. DiNunzio, but Maxine Anderson is here to see you.”
“Thank you. Please send her in.” Derrick set his pen down and stood as the door opened and in breezed Maxine. Every time he saw her, he couldn’t get over the fact that not only was she still alive, but that she could walk. After the horrible accident seven years before, her entire existence was a miracle, a gift from God.
The first thing he noticed was that she’d changed her hair. Instead of falling to her hips, it brushed her shoulders and framed her lean face, highlighting the strong cheekbones inherited from her Native American father. She wore an emerald colored pantsuit the very shade of her eyes, dressed to the tee as always. Carrying twins had barely disrupted her thin figure.
“Maxi,” he greeted with a grin, coming around his desk.
“Sorry it’s taken me so long to come see you,” she said, kissing his cheek as he hugged her. “This whole thing with Sarah’s dad was all-consuming for a while.”
He took her hand and led her to the couch that sat against the far wall. “I’m sure. How’s she doing?”
“As bad as I thought she’d do.” She sat sideways to face him. “And where have you been through all the memorials and funeral?”
“The last thing Sarah said to me the morning her father died was that she hated me. I briefly stopped in at the memorial service. I really had no place there.”
“Huh. You might be the only man who could tell me Sarah said that I’d believe. She’s so mild-mannered.” Maxine half grinned. “You bring out her argumentative side.”
He sighed. “To be fair, I usually deserve it.”
She cocked her head. “You push her until she can’t help it. You never coddle her bratty attitude.” Her eyes wandered around the office, taking in the sheer size of it, the mahogany furniture, the fresh flowers, and her own artwork gracing the walls. “How are you doing, Derrick?”
He knew what she was asking. “Great. The transition went without a hitch. We promoted one of the girls from the front desk to assistant manager, and between her familiarity with the staff and Tony’s endorsement of me, I haven’t had the first problem I couldn’t handle.”
“You’re a natural at this. You wouldn’t have had a problem anyway.”
His smile was quick. “It helped smooth out a few bumps, though.”
She toyed with the ring on her finger, making the emerald and diamonds catch the light. “I came here to ask for your help.”
“Oh? How can I help you, Maxine?”
“Well,” Maxine grinned, watching his face. “Sarah turns thirty next week.”
That set Derrick back. “Wow.”
Maxine grinned and nodded. “Anyway, we have the ballroom downstairs and we were in the middle of all the planning, then we got distracted. I was hoping you could tell me that you have someone on staff who can help. Suddenly I can’t do it anymore. I don’t have enough time to finish all the preparations, and I have a show in New York Thursday night. Robin was helping, but school’s back in and work is crazy for her for at least another week since Tony opened that new place near the other campus.”
He held a hand up when she took a breath. “Why are you so nervous about asking me?” he asked, reaching behind him to intercom his secretary. “Andrea, get me Maggie, please.”
Maxine laughed. “I’m not – I’m overwhelmed. This is what the inside of my head is like right now.”
He raised an eyebrow. “You’re nervous about you
r show.”
She put a hand to her forehead and laughed. “It’s never gone away. I’m like this before every last one of them.”
He grinned. “Don’t take this wrong, Maxi, but I think that’s cute.”
She stood as she laughed again. “You’re terrible, and I’m starving. Let’s meet with Maggie in the restaurant.”
“I can have something brought in here, if you’d prefer.”
“Don’t be ridiculous. My baby sister turns thirty in a week. I want to be seen in public with a devastatingly handsome younger than me guy to make everyone wonder if I’m going through a mid-life crisis.” She waved her hand as if typsetting a headline. “Famous artist dumps ex-football pro for mystery man!”
“You’re all of five years older than me, Maxi,” he observed dryly.
“I know. I just want to raid the salad bar while we’re waiting on food. I told you, I’m starving.”
He lightly and reflexively touched the small of her back as they left his office. “How do you eat the way you eat and still look the way you look?”
Maxine schooled her face and asked, “Have you met my husband?” Her husband, Barry, worked out seven days a week and likely put his wife through a similar physical regimen.
Derrick paused by Andrea’s desk, waiting for her hands to pause on the keyboard. “Have Maggie meet us in the restaurant, please.”
“Absolutely, Mr. DiNunzio.”
As soon as they were clear of the office, Maxine looped her arm into his. “I’ve been going to Sarah’s church the last two weeks. Have you started back at our home church, or are you going somewhere else?”
“How could I leave that place? For six years I wished that I could commute back and forth on Sundays and Wednesday nights.”
“That’s fantastic. Have you seen the new buildings that they built since you were there last?”
“I did. Peter and Abram gave me a tour Sunday after lunch. I imagine the church will own most of Boston by the time it’s all said and done.”
“The bigger we get, the more people in that neighborhood we can help. Kids like you and Tony used to be, who would otherwise be hungry and cold, have food and shelter now.”
Derrick paused inside the restaurant and let the hostess rush off in a panic to find an empty table during the lunch rush. He knew enough of Maxine and her sisters’ story, knew that their mother was a heroin addict who bounced from man to pimp, carrying her daughters with her. “And little girls like you and Sarah might have protection now.”
“That is our prayer.”
As the hostess seated them, Maggie Rogers, the Viscolli Boston Event Coordinator, approached their table. Derrick stood and introduced her to Maxine, then enjoyed his lunch while he watched the two women wield their imaginations to finalize the remaining details of Sarah’s birthday party.
“WHY can’t you stay with me?”
Sarah stopped dreaming of a long bubble bath and gently pried loose the hand that gripped her arm while she spoke in soothing tones. “I wish I could, Mrs. Kline, but I just take care of you until your baby’s born. The next set of nurses specialize in your care after the baby is here.” She went to the window and pulled the blinds shut, blocking out the fury of the lightning in the night sky.
“But I know you.”
“I know.” She smiled and patted her shoulder. As she spoke, she crossed the room to the door. “But, trust me, you don’t want me in charge of you and baby Jonathan. I wouldn’t know where to even begin, and these ladies do.” A bubble bath, maybe some chamomile tea.
“But …”
“And your husband will be here any minute. You’ll feel better once he’s here. I promise.”
She had the door opened and was almost out. “Can you come visit me?”
Her smile stayed in place as she turned around. “Of course. I come up here before every shift.” Mrs. Kline bit her lip but nodded. Sarah let the door shut softly behind her and stopped in the hallway to roll her head on her shoulders.
There were four babies in their little beds behind the nurses’ station. She smiled when she saw them. Some mothers knew this was the only chance for sleep they were going to get for the next several months, and let the nurses take them until it was time to feed them.
She leaned against the counter enclosing the nurses’ station and propped her chin in her hands. Her roommate, Melissa, held a baby against her chest and gently patted its back. The baby would start to doze but then would jerk awake and whimper. Another nurse was rubbing the back of a baby that lay in one of the cribs while she spoke on the telephone.
Melissa modeled to get through nursing school. She was just under six feet tall, with skin the color of mocha and pale green eyes. Her mother was Nigerian, her father British, and she had been raised in Texas, giving her the oddest sounding accent Sarah had ever heard.
Babies loved her accent, though. She could soothe the fussiest one, and had always been able to. Sarah smiled as the baby fell into a deep sleep. Melissa adjusted it more comfortably against her shoulder and looked at the clock. “It’s after midnight, kid.”
“I know. We were pushing at ten.”
“Kline?”
“Yes. She’s going to need a little extra care.”
“Okay. Any story?”
“Sure. Her husband decided he could risk a business trip and leave his pregnant wife alone for a week in a town where she doesn’t know anyone. They just moved here a month ago, and she’s so shy that she doesn’t even know her neighbors. She was hysterical by the time she got here.” She straightened and raised her arms over her head.
Melissa raised an eyebrow. “How early was she?”
“Does that matter?”
“Absolutely. I’d rather know all the facts before I demonize the husband.” She slowly transferred the baby to the bed. “How early?”
Sarah sighed. “Six weeks.”
“Well then, he’s probably as hysterical as she was.” She stood and brushed the front of her shirt. “I’ll just go make her comfortable. Do you know when he’s expected?”
“Any time.”
“Good. Now, you go on, take a long bath, sip on a cup of tea, and try to get some sleep. Just take care going home. The weather is getting nasty out there. I think summer is finally over.”
Melissa stopped talking and stared over Sarah’s shoulder. “Oh my. Very nice. I pray that this isn’t Mr. Kline and that my lipstick is still in place.”
Her laugh surprised her. “You’re awful.”
“You haven’t looked behind you, yet. Wait until you do.”
“If I look, then he’ll know we’re talking about him.”
“Shh, here he is.” Sarah watched Melissa put on her best beautiful model smile. “Hello.”
She felt his hand on the small of her back the second she heard his voice. Every muscle in her body that had slowly relaxed over the last five minutes immediately tensed up again. “Hello,” he said.
Sarah turned her head and glared at Derrick. “What are you doing here?”
He looked too good. She hated him for it. Dressed down in jeans and a cotton sweater, wearing a leather jacket as black as his hair that only further darkened his eyes, he stood close enough for her to see the raindrops glistening in his hair. Close enough for her to smell the subtle spicy cologne that it seemed he and he alone ever wore.
His teeth seemed whiter against his dark skin and the black coat when he grinned at her. “I came visiting.”
“Visiting hours are over.”
“Not when the person I’m coming to see got off her shift an hour ago.”
Melissa leaned forward and held out her hand. “I’m Sarah’s roommate, Melissa,” she purred. Sarah rolled her eyes. “And you are?”
Derrick grinned and took her hand, giving it a light squeeze. “Derrick DiNunzio. Nice to meet you, Melissa. I actually saw you at the memorial service.”
“Ah, Derrick. The long lost Prodigal brother. Robin and Maxine speak of you so often. Sarah, not so mu
ch. You’re back in Boston for good?”
“That’s my plan.”
A man in a soaking wet trench coat with wild eyes rounded the corner. He moved so fast Sarah thought he would run right into the counter, but somehow he managed to skid to a stop at the last possible second. He was out of breath, and had to pant. “My … wife …”
Melissa hurried around the counter and took him by his arm. “You must be Mr. Kline. You poor dear. Come with me, sir, and we’ll take you to your wife and your little boy.”
“I just … I can’t believe … I …”
She cooed to him as she led him away. “Shush, now. Everything’s all right now that you’re here. Try and take slow breaths, Mr. Kline. You don’t want to upset your wife or the baby.”
Derrick watched her walk away, deciding it was a shame that he found other women so pale in comparison to the one quietly seething next to him. “Poor guy,” he said.
Sarah’s shoulders came back so quickly that he was surprised he didn’t hear them snap into place. “Poor guy? His poor wife just went through eight hours of hard labor by herself a month and a half early, and you say poor guy?”
She stormed away, and Derrick slipped his hands into his jacket pockets and grinned while he followed her. They made it to the bank of elevators before she whirled around and glared at him. “What are you really doing here?” she asked again as she jabbed at the call button repeatedly.
“Oh, I just came to see if I could get you into an argument.”
That tripped her up, and for a moment, all she could do was stare at him. Then she blinked. “What?”
He shrugged and leaned his shoulder against the wall. “Maxi and Robin are both worried sick about you. I figured since you fly into a rage at my mere presence, I could help out.”
“Help out how?”
“By giving you a genuine emotion other than grief.” Then he smiled. He felt arrogant and hopeful all at once.
She hissed a breath between her teeth. “What I feel and what I don’t feel is none of your concern.”
Topaz Heat (Christian Romance) (The Jewel Series) Page 7
