Heaving session over for the time being, she rolled over on her back and covered her eyes with her arm. She just wanted to sleep. The doorbell rang again and she moaned.
Muscles shaking with sickness, she barely made it to her feet. The room swirled around her and her vision started to gray. Drenched in sweat, she stumbled to the door. Leaning against the wall, she turned the doorknob and barely got the door open and saw a blurry half of Derrick's face before she collapsed.
The wind blew icy rain inside, reviving her as Derrick rushed in and knelt above her. "Sarah?" The concern on his face, the panic in his eyes, caused her heart to give a little tug even as her stomach rolled.
"Sick," she whispered. She rolled to her knees, arms shaking as she pushed herself up. Derrick knelt by her, putting an arm over her shoulders just as her stomach muscles started spasming. "Bucket," she got out just as the heaving started again.
He moved so fast, lifting her and taking her to the bucket instead of bringing the container to her. She sat on the floor, in between the couch and her coffee table and wished that death would just be quick so that she wouldn't have to face this man when she felt well again one day. As soon as she thought she could move, she pushed herself back onto the couch and lay down again.
"Please ... go away." Despite her whispered plea, she heard him shrugging out of his coat.
"Where's Melissa?"
"Work."
"Do you know when she'll be home?"
"Tomorrow morning." He didn't speak again, so she let herself drift away, dozing until she startled awake with the feel of a cool cloth covering her forehead.
"Think you can try some ice chips?"
Sarah pried open an eye, surprised at how dry her eyes felt, how much they ached. Derrick sat on the coffee table next to her, wearing a dark gray suit with a dark green shirt. His gray tie had green diagonal stripes and carefully camoflaged the three crosses at calvary in what looked like a repeating houndstooth pattern to a casual observer.
She always saw that tough kid in the sweat pants making that disgusting tuna sandwich whenever she looked at him. She realized now that the kid was long gone, and in his place lived a very successful, very cultured man. Not a boy full of cocky attitude, but an accomplished man of God.
She closed her eyes again, curious as to the direction of her thoughts and certain that the reason must be because she currently ran a high fever. "Not yet." She ran her tongue over her dry lips. "Let me make sure my stomach will behave."
She heard him move, but didn't open her eyes again. Instead, feeling oddly secure, she slept.
DERRICK watched Sarah's face wrinkle into a frown, then relax as sleep took over. She was so petite, barely five feet tall, and so thin that he often wondered how she was able to handle the physical tasks of her job. He could never pinpoint her hair color to just one shade. Auburn and brown and blonde merged into a raging wildfire of curls that never stayed in place. Her naturally pale skin made her eyes stand out like the warmest honey, shine like jewels the color of the richest topaz.
Yet tonight, her hair lay in a sweaty, tame mass against the pillow. Her skin was so stark white that her freckles looked fake – penciled in. No light shown forth from her eyes as they instead looked dull with sickness. The violence with which she had gotten sick scared him, certain her bones would snap with the heaving.
Worried, he took the washcloth from her forehead and felt the heat on it. He touched her cheek and felt the burn of her fever. Moving quickly to the bathroom, he rinsed the cloth with cool water, then squeezed it dry and folded it into thirds, gently placing it back on her forehead, saying a quick prayer for healing as he touched her.
He moved through the small home and into the kitchen, spying her books and papers spread on the table. Her phone sat next to her teacup and without a shred of guilt he went through the contacts in her phone until he found Melissa's number.
The roommate answered on the third ring. "'ello, love."
Derrick paused before answering. "This is Sarah's friend, Derrick. We met the other night."
"Of course. What's wrong?"
Rubbing the back of his neck before loosening his tie, Derrick went back to the room with Sarah. "Sarah is really sick. Throwing up, fever."
"Ah. So she caught it then. It's been going around. Nasty bug. It really just has to run its course."
Relief relaxed his neck muscles. "Okay. Thanks."
"Can you stay with her? I can call her mom or a sister –"
Derrick cut her off. "I can stay."
"Okay. I get off at seven. If she's not improving by six, call me back. I'll bring something home with me."
"Thanks. I'll call either way."
Derrick pocketed the phone and heard Sarah moan. He rushed to her side and held the bucket for her. As she lay back against the pillow, he wondered if she had even woken up. He stood to refresh her washcloth again but she grabbed his wrist. Looking down at her, he saw her eyes open and gazing right at him. His heart felt like it paused for just a beat, before resuming its pace at a slightly quicker one.
"Thank you," she said.
He covered her small hand with his. "My pleasure, Sweetheart."
"Don't call me sweetheart," she said absently, then closed her eyes again. Her hand slid from his wrist and fell limply to her side.
CHAPTER 11
SARAH opened her eyes and flinched in pain away from the bright sunlight streaming into her room. Her head ached, her stomach muscles ached, and it felt like dry cotton balls lined her mouth and the back of her throat.
As she rolled into a sitting position, she realized she was in her bed, not the couch. She didn’t remember coming into her bedroom. Her last good memory was Derrick coaxing an ice chip down her throat around three in the morning. Squinting at the clock, she realized that was a good seven hours ago.
Sitting didn’t seem to cause any adverse reactions to her digestive system, so she cautiously tried standing. Her legs felt a little bit weak and rubbery, but better than the night before. She still wore the yoga pants and long sleeved T-shirt she’d had on the day before. The cold floor felt good to her bare feet.
She found her glasses on the night stand and slipped them on, then used the loose rubber band she found to gather her hair at the nape of her neck.
She opened the door quietly and peered out. Across the hall, she saw Melissa’s closed door, and guessed that she was home and asleep. The rest of the house appeared silent, so she went into her bathroom. Examining her face in the mirror, she still looked a little wan. After brushing her teeth and washing her face, she had a little bit more color on her cheeks, but not like normal. She needed a shower, but she needed something to drink even more, so she left the bathroom and made her way to the kitchen, pausing when she saw a gray tie with green stripes lying on top of a gray jacket that lay casually tossed over the back of her arm chair.
Realizing she tensed up as she mentally braced herself, she entered her kitchen and stopped short when she saw Derrick sitting at the table, a steaming mug next to his elbow, talking on his cell phone. He had on his gray suit pants, but no shirt and no socks. The tattooed wing of the dragon snaked over his shoulder. A rough tattoo of a knife dripping blood lay over his heart.
“Yeah. I’ll take care of it. Thanks,” he said when he spotted her. He set the phone down and stood. “Hi.”
Nervously pulling the arms of her sleeves over her hands before wrapping her arms around her body, Sarah hesitated briefly before responding. “Why are you still here?”
Derrick raised an eyebrow as he looked at her, peering into her eyes until she was certain he could read her thoughts or something. “Waiting for you to wake up.”
“Why?”
He crossed the room and stood in front of her. “Because, Sweetheart, you scared me to death last night.”
“I didn’t think anything could scare you.”
Derrick shrugged and put a hand on her shoulder. “Apparently the thought of you sick does.” Before she
could shrug his hand away, he removed it. “Anyway, it’s good to see you back in the land of the living. Maxine is back from New York and said to tell you she’ll be by after church with vegetable soup.”
Sarah couldn’t help but smile warmly. “I’m surprised she didn’t offer chicken noodle.”
“I talked her down,” Derrick said dryly.
Laughing hurt Sarah’s stomach muscles. She rubbed her middle as she went to the refrigerator to get a bottle of water. She twisted the bottle cap and was halfway through the first wonderfully cool sip when she realized something. “Church!” She turned around and looked at Derrick in horror. “Oh no. I never called anyone to cover my class.”
“Indeed.”
Sarah spun around and saw her mother standing in the doorway to the kitchen. She had Derrick’s jacket and tie draped over her arm. Sarah immediately thought of Derrick’s car in the driveway, covered in snow and ice, obviously having been there overnight. A strange, guilty heat rose up her neck from her chest and she felt it fan her cheeks. “Mom.”
“I tried calling.” Her mother’s lips thinned and she looked directly at Derrick with such a look of disapproval that Sarah wanted to step in front of her and block him. “You were apparently otherwise occupied.”
“I’ve been in bed.” She put a hand to her forehead and closed her eyes, realizing how that sounded and how this all looked.
She jumped when she heard Derrick’s voice. “Mrs. Thomas, I’m Derrick DiNunzio,” he said, holding his hand out.
Darlene looked at his hand but did not take it. Instead, she looked him up and down, from his disheveled hair to his bare feet, then laid the coat and tie over his outstretched arm. “I know who you are.”
“Mom –”
Darlene’s head whipped toward Sarah. “Not antoher word.”
Sarah snapped her mouth shut and didn’t say anything else. But Derrick obviously hadn’t been as well trained as Sarah in the fine art of dealing with Darlene Thomas.
“We aren’t lovers,” he said bluntly. Darlene gasped and Sarah felt a guttural little desperate cry escape her throat. “I came by last night and found she was quite ill. Melissa was at work, so I stayed.”
Darlene looked at Sarah and back at Derrick. “Ill? Sarah never takes ill.”
He held up his jacket and showed a stain. “She sure was last night. Incidentally, that’s why I’m not wearing my shirt. And I’ve been up most of the night. You’ll pardon my appearance.”
The older woman cleared her throat and adjusted the collar of her jacket. “I see.” She stiffly turned to her daughter. “And are you feeling well now?”
Sarah pulled the sleeves of her arms over her hands and crossed her arms. “I just got out of bed a few minutes ago. But I think I’ll be okay.”
Darlene stiffly nodded. “Good.” She looked back at Derrick. “Thank you for taking care of her, Mr. DiNunzio.”
Derrick cocked his head, as if waiting for more. After the space of several heartbeats, he finally nodded. “Of course. I was happy that I stopped by when I did.”
“And why did you happen to stop by exactly?” Darlene asked.
Sarah took a step forward. “Mom!”
“No, it’s okay.” Her step forward put her next to him and she jumped when she felt his hand on the small of her back. “I’d come by to declare my undying love for Sarah and to ask her to do me the very great honor of marrying me and becoming my wife.”
Through thinned lips, Darlene said, “Now you’re making fun of me.”
“I assure you I am not.” Derrick pulled a hand out of his pocket and opened it. On his palm lay a gold ring set with a square cut topaz the color of burnt honey surrounded by glittering diamonds.
Sarah gasped and started to reach for the ring before she stopped herself and crossed her arms again. “May I speak to my daughter alone, please?”
Derrick nodded. “Of course. I need to see if my shirt’s dry, anyway. If you could both please excuse me.” He stroked the small of her back in an almost reassuring manner before he left the room.
Sarah chewed on her bottom lip, completely at a loss. Her heart beat a little excited rhythm that she couldn’t identify or explain, and the small of her back still felt the heat of his fingertips. She watched her mother remove her gloves, one finger at a time, then sit in the chair Derrick had recently occupied. She used the edge of a glove to move his phone out of her way and then set her purse down in its place. “I’d like a cup of tea, please.”
“Of course.” Sarah rushed to the stove and pulled a mug out of the cupboard above her head. She saw the jar of instant coffee she kept on hand for company and touched the side of the teapot that sat on a burner and felt the heat, guessing Derrick used it to make the coffee he’d been drinking when she came into the kitchen not more than five minutes ago. With surprisingly efficient movements, she poured her mother a cup of tea and set it in front of her at the table, then sat across from her.
“Mom, I really don’t –”
“You know, I fought your father about you even learning you had half sisters. He won, of course.” Darlene played with the paper hanging off the end of the tea bag string. “Your psychiatrist felt that getting you involved with your sisters in some facet of your life might alleviate some of the nightmares you were having. I fought it and fought it, because I knew the kind of influence they could have on you, but your father insisted. I never wanted them to be anywhere near you. I never wanted you to live with them and go to school. I certainly never wanted them to be such an important part of your life.”
Darlene picked up her cup but immediately slammed it back down, causing the brew to slosh over the sides. “And now I see where it’s led, just as I knew it would. I come to your house and find you with this filthy street hood covered in tattoos.”
“Don’t!” The words hurt, yes, but they also made her terribly, terribly angry. She fought it down, tried to get a grip on her temper and the urge to lash out. “Listen. I love you. You’re my mom. You have been for over twenty years. But I love them, too. I’m allowed to love all of you. I just don’t see why you can’t accept that and be happy for me. I have two wonderful families. I’m incredibly blessed.”
As tiny as her mother was, she had the ability to tilt her head just so, so that she looked down at the person with whom she spoke. Sarah’s hand itched to slap the look off her mother’s face, and she felt suddenly horrified with herself. “I don’t see why you consider it lucky to have blood ties with women who would sell themselves off to the highest bidder.”
She gasped and pushed her chair away from the table. “How can you say that? How can you say that when you’ve seen them with their husbands and know how they feel about them?”
“Money is a strong motivator, Sarah. It can bring out the strongest of feelings. And now I see you with one of them. I can’t believe that you …” She broke off and took a sip of her tea.
“That I what? What exactly do you think I did other than throw up my stomach lining every twenty minutes?”
Darlene’s eyes welled up with tears. “Sarah, who knows what horrors you suffered as a child. Who knows what buried memories are going to surface and affect your behavior now, your interpersonal relationships.”
“Well, you can put your mind at ease, mother. As bad as it was, it wasn’t quite there. At least, not for me.”
“How do you know?”
“Because I remember, now. I remember everything. And sitting here looking at you, I suddenly realize that you’ve been trying to put little things like that in my head all my life. Why? Were you worried that you and dad alone wouldn’t be enough to make me love you? Do you really think that you had to make sure I was indebted to you as well? That I would be so appreciative even without really knowing what it was really like before?” Her stomach was twisting itself into little painful knots. “It wasn’t necessary. I didn’t have to be fed with guilt.”
Darlene leaned forward and pointed a finger at her daughter. “You were starvi
ng. You were a skinny little waif who couldn’t see ten feet in front of your own face and jumped at shadows. You were covered with bruises. You hadn’t bathed in weeks. Your clothes were too small, and your shoes were three sizes too big. We took you into our home, knowing what you came from and gave you everything we had. But the second your sister, your half sister, waved a college education under your nose, you dumped us with barely a wave good bye. And I don’t think even you know the price tag that was put on that education, what you were really reduced to.” She stood as she finished her tirade, and Sarah forced strength into her legs to stand with her.
“I dumped no one and you know it. Let me tell you something, mom.” She barely spat the word out. “I didn’t need a motivator. I didn’t need the little extras you managed to throw in. You two were enough for me, enough to make me love you. Safety, cleanliness, a home was all I needed. Robin and Maxine are to be admired, revered even, for doing what they’ve done without having what I had. They made it before they met their husbands, and I think that angers you more than anything. I think the thought that maybe I could have made it too, without you, makes you uncomfortable. And afraid. Afraid that I would figure out I never needed you in the first place.”
“That’s absurd.”
“Do you really think so? Or is what’s really bothering you the fact that the man in the next room isn’t a wholesome good old American boy-next-door like Dennis Benson. It was okay that Dennis was married as long as he was blond haired, blue eyed, and clean cut. Is that it?” She stepped a foot closer. “If it is, let me make one thing very clear. I’m an adult. I’m fully capable of making my own decisions, just as you are. Whether I want to date an ex-street hood jailhouse tattoos or a crown prince with jewels on his head, it shouldn’t matter to you. What should matter to you, and what seems never to have mattered, is whether or not I’m happy with the choices I’ve made.”
Topaz Heat (Christian Romance) (The Jewel Series) Page 10
