Susan tried to shake her head, but the effort seemed to exert her. “No,” she said. “I’m Maggie.”
“Maggie? No. You said you were Susan. I’m sure of it. Maggie is your sister.”
Susan smiled slightly. “Maggie,” she whispered, and closed her eyes.
CHAPTER 25
All around him there was a flurry of activity. The Brooklyn Fare Kitchen had never had anyone faint on them before, much less a movie star. Chris Stands busily ran around trying to organize water and fainting salts, although no one had ever seen a fainting salt and a good old slap on the face would have done the job just as well. Emily decided to carry out the procedure herself, and gave Bobby a sharp whack with her open palm to his bare cheek. It worked.
“What happened?” Bobby asked, although he already knew.
“You fainted, darling,” Emily said dryly. “Too much wine perhaps?”
Bobby rubbed his head and then his cheek. He felt the sting of Emily’s hit and grimaced.
“Sorry about that,” Emily said, and looked guilty, for she had in fact quite enjoyed smacking Bobby Anderson. Its not that she didn’t like him, but when would she ever have the chance to hit a Hollywood star again unless she herself became one? Not that she would hit herself, of course, but there might be the option to hit others.
“Is dinner over?” Bobby asked sheepishly.
“Well,” Emily mused. “They are saying I should take you to the hospital, in case.
“I really just want to go home.” Bobby stumbled up from the floor and tried to stand.
“I don’t think I should leave you alone in this condition,” Emily reasoned. Also, there was the matter of the bill, not to mention her acting career; she still hadn’t said a word about it to him.
“I’m fine, honest.” Bobby went to fetch his coat, and luckily for Emily, remembered about the bill. Flustered he got out his credit card and handed it to her with shaky hands.
“Bobby, you don’t look fine. After you pay this I’m taking you back to my place so I can at least keep an eye on you until you really are better, agreed?”
“Do you have coffee?” Bobby tried a grin.
“I have something better. It’s called Earl Gray.”
Emily’s apartment was not at all what Bobby had expected from a real estate mogul. It was tucked away in the East Village above what seemed to be the store of a psychic reader and a tattered looking tattoo parlor. There weren’t even many trees along her street, or much else to call attention to the place. With all Emily’s money and all her connections to great spaces, why had she chosen this place?
Emily smiled shyly as the old rickety elevator carried them to the third floor. She was not in the habit of bringing her customers home; and her home was a sacred place indeed, not something to be shared lightly. But let us not forget Emily’s dream. It was still there, hanging on stubbornly and needing urgent attention. But, oh, she did feel exposed. What would he think of her one bedroom unit? Emily had shown so many apartments to so many people during her lifetime; but her own was her own, and for some reason, she never quite liked the idea of showing it off. Not that she had much opportunity to do so anyway. It wasn’t as though she had that many friends. She often puzzled about why that was. Perhaps she was too ambitious. No, many New Yorkers were much more ambitious than she was and they all seemed to have friends. Was it her looks? Sure, she wasn’t beautiful, but she wasn’t ugly either. And could looks refract from the amount of friends one obtained? It’s too bad she didn’t just ask Bobby. He could have told her all about her intensity.
Stepping through the threshold, Emily suppressed a rush of pride that can only be compared to a mother who knows her child is far better than the rest. If Emily had come across her apartment while house hunting, she would have snatched it up immediately. It was her best-kept secret. She could have sold it years ago for quadruple the price she bought it for, but she knew that she would probably hang onto it forever. Emily appreciated, better than anyone, that a home was made, not bought, and she had made this space her home.
It had been a loving and painstaking ordeal, which had required endless trips to local flea markets and antiquity stores, not to mention the time she had taken in choosing the right fabric for each window dressing and pillowcase cover. When she eventually moved to California to pursue her acting career, she decided that she would still keep this place; a personal sanctuary she could escape to whenever she needed it.
To Bobby, Emily’s apartment was the Bohemian lifestyle he had suddenly envisioned. It was the perfect place to share with Susan. The perfect place to cuddle up in on weekends, buried like hibernating bears beneath bed sheets and eiderdown, reading the paper and deciding on which movie to see or which Broadway play to buy tickets for. It was the perfect place for sharing cups of coffee and spying on passing neighbors walking down the street below. Even the hustle and bustle sound of the cars and buses was somehow soothing. This was not Beverly hills, but he just had to have it. First things first, though: he needed to make a phone call. With the restaurant fuss, and the taxi ride over and all of his thoughts in a swirl, he’d almost forgotten to call Judge.
“Mr. Judge?”
“Speaking.”
“The girl isn’t named Susan. Her name is Maggie.”
Judge sighed. He would have to do his entire search again. “Does she look the same?”
“Yes. But she gave a wrong name.”
“Maybe she doesn’t want you to find her.”
“No. I’m sure she wants me to find her. I can’t explain it, but just… find her! All right? It’s urgent.”
Bobby had not noticed Emily drop the tea mug she’d been holding a second earlier. Earl Gray spread out all over the floor, soaking her exclusive handspun Persian Gabbeh rug with the two lions she’d absolutely fallen in love with and had bought on EBay last year. She didn’t even try to clean it up.
“Hey! Bobby called to her. “Your rug.”
“Maggie? Did you say the girl you want to find is Maggie, not Susan?”
“Yes.” Bobby felt a shudder rush up his spine. Did she know a Maggie?
“But how can this be?” she asked, still not attending to the tea.
Bobby automatically found the kitchen towels and started dabbing at the rug.
“You told the papers you were dating a girl. Is this girl Maggie?”
“Yes, but it’s complicated. I thought her name was Susan. I’m sort of looking for her. We aren’t really dating, yet.”
“But that’s not…possible…” Emily looked at hard Bobby and said, “Because I know them both, Maggie and Susan. They’re sisters.”
Bobby sprang to his feet. “Yes! They are sisters! I can’t believe you know them―her. I can’t believe you know Susan, I mean Maggie! That is amazing! Where is she?”
“But, don’t you know?”
“Know what?” Bobby’s head screamed to understand. “How do you know her?”
“Susan is my friend, and Maggie is her little sister. But you can’t be dating Maggie because, because she’s been in a coma for over two months now. She’s on a machine at the New York Presbyterian. Bobby, it’s a burn center.”
Bobby let his body slump down onto the sofa of many colors. It was comfortable and gorgeous, but he didn’t notice the apartment anymore. “Can you take me there?”
“Of course, but you’re going to have to explain all this to me, and I’m going to have to call Susan.”
“Do you have a picture of Maggie?” Bobby asked.
“No, only of Susan. I didn’t see Maggie much. She won a scholarship to the New York Conservatory of Music in violin and cello and she just lived for her music. Classical.”
Bobby’s head spun, and he felt he might faint again. Emily took a worried look at him and wanted to kick herself for not taking him to the hospital earlier. What if he truly was concussed and he died? What was that test you were supposed to do: smile, put your hands in the air, say a complete sentence? Maybe that was only for a st
roke.
“Please, show me a picture,” were the only words Bobby could render.
Emily ran to her room where she kept the framed picture of her and Susan. It was Emily’s birthday celebration taken last year, and if it hadn’t been for Susan, she would have been on her own that night. Susan was her only friend.
They had met each other through Emily’s work. Young adventurous Susan was looking for an apartment to share, and for some reason she had been directed to Emily. Although Emily did not usually deal with the lower end market, she had taken to Susan, and had managed to find her a decent place for a relatively low price. After that, for some odd reason, the two had become friends.
“Here it is,” Emily said, rushing over with the picture.
Bobby looked and let his jaw drop open. There, before his brown eyes, was a girl he only knew from his dreams. But she was the same, and she was real. “I can’t believe it,” he said. “It’s Susan. But how can that be?” He looked again. The girl in the picture was exactly the same as the Susan in his dream, except she wasn’t wearing the shorts and red T-shirt. In this picture she was dressed in a floral green and white mini dress, her hair up in a loose braid; but she still had that beautiful face, deep red hair, smooth clear skin with only a hint of makeup, and there was her cheeky smile.
He couldn’t believe he’d finally found her.
CHAPTER 26
“It’s Susan,” he said again. “I have to see her. Call her, please.” Bobby was desperate.
“But you said your girlfriend was called Maggie,” Emily reminded him.
It was true. “I don’t understand it either,” he admitted. “I just know that Susan, the girl in this picture, is the girl. She has to be. I don’t know who this other girl, Maggie, is.”
“I told you, Maggie is her sister. She’s been in a coma for months. But how do you know either of them?”
Bobby told Emily the whole story, and what a relief! Now there were two people in the world who knew what was happening to him, except now he knew for sure that he wasn’t crazy. Hooray, he wasn’t crazy!
“But what about Maggie?” Emily said.
“I don’t know, but she’s not the girl in my dream. It’s Susan.”
“Well, I’m calling Susan. You have to get to the hospital. If Maggie’s communicating with you somehow, the family should know.”
“But she’s not,” Bobby insisted. “I keep telling you, it’s Susan. Susan!”
“If what you say is true, why hasn’t Susan mentioned you? Bobby, she’s my friend. If she was dreaming about you, or even fancied you a little, she would have told me.”
“You have a point.” Bobby was pensive. “But I haven’t told my best friends.”
“Well, Susan doesn’t keep any secrets from me, so I’m sure she would have mentioned it if she had a crush on you.”
“Well, call her. Let’s get this out in the open and find out what’s really going on, because I’ve been going crazy these past few months. I even changed my State. I moved here to work on Marionettes, for crying out loud. I hired a private detective. I live at The Dakota! I need to know what’s going on.”
Bobby watched as Emily hit speed dial and got Susan on the phone. His Susan.
After a brief explanation, Emily hung up and turned to Bobby with one eyebrow raised, as if to say, I told you so.
“What?” Bobby practically yelled.
“Okay, this is how it’s going to work. I can help you, but you have to help me. Is that understood?”
“Help you? How? Like buy an apartment at The Dakota?”
Emily laughed. “No sweetie. I don’t mean, “like buy an apartment at The Dakota”. I don’t want you to buy anything. Here’s the deal: I want to be a movie star and I want you to help me. If you promise to get me connected, I’ll bring you to your girl.”
Bobby wanted to laugh. Emily had to be joking. But no. One look at her face and Bobby could tell that Emily was dead serious. He couldn’t believe that she was actually holding his relationship hostage. How dare she? He didn’t feel like laughing anymore. He was angry. “You better tell me how to find Susan or you’ll never work in Hollywood, ever!”
“Nice try, Bobby, but I am a thirty-year-old bitch and you are not going to intimidate me. Now, just promise and we’re all set. All right?”
What was a promise? It was just a verbal contract, after all. Verbal contracts didn’t count. He would promise. And promise what exactly? That he would get her connected? Why, a meeting with Patrick would accomplish that. Emily would be on her own from there, and if she didn’t make it, that wouldn’t be his fault. “I promise,” he said, and he didn’t even bother pretending that he meant it.
Not wasting time, for she had wasted enough of her years already, Emily grabbed her handbag and Bobby’s arm and led him out of her apartment and back down to the street.
“Where are we going?” Bobby asked.
“The Presbyterian Hospital, where Maggie—”
“I told you, it’s not Maggie!”
“It doesn’t matter! We’ll find out soon enough. Maggie’s in trouble. The family needs you.”
Bobby’s cell phone rang. It was Judge. “I found her,” Judge said quickly. “She’s at the Presbyterian.”
“Yeah, I know. I’m on my way there now.”
“Um, it’s a burn center. Did you know that?”
“Yeah, yeah. I’ve heard. But she’s not the girl. She’s the girl’s sister. It’s confusing.”
“I’m there now. Do you want me to wait for you?”
“Sure, just stay where you are. We’re looking for a cab now.”
“We?”
“Me and my… friend.”
Silence.
Bobby hung up and waited for Emily to hail down a cab. It didn’t take long. Checking his watch, he saw that it was one o’clock in the morning. There weren’t a lot of people demanding cabs at this hour. Were there even proper hospital visiting hours at this time?
“The Presbyterian,” Emily demanded. “”And make it quick. We have an emergency.”
Emergency? Bobby was too excited about finding Susan to fully understand the urgency in Emily’s tone earlier. Now it started to sink in. “Emily, what’s going on?”
“Susan told me to hurry. She says if you can communicate with Maggie you have to do it now. The family is going to take her off of her life support system. The doctors say she’s taken a turn for the worse. Susan is there now watching over her."
Even with this bad news, all Bobby could think about was Susan sitting in a hospital room waiting for him. He was so relieved to find out that it wasn’t her who was sick, that he just couldn’t allow Maggie’s situation to get him down. He wanted to be just as morose as Emily was, but he was too happy. Instead he focused on the beautiful city lights and what he would say to Susan when they finally met. Maybe something along the lines of, “Susan, my love, I finally found you” or “Oh, how I’ve been looking for you” or “I found the perfect apartment in the East Village where we can make coffee and read the weekend paper”—which reminded him… “Emily…”
“Yes Bobby.”
“I have a proposition for you.”
“I’m all ears.”
“You want to live in California, right?”
“Right.”
“And I think I want to live in Manhattan.”
“And you want to house swap.”
How did she know? Bobby coughed. “Well, quite frankly, yes. I think it would be a nice change to be in your place, and I’m sure you wouldn’t find my place inadequate. Plus, I have a butler.”
“Do you, now? How quaint.”
Quaint? Who was she calling quaint? “If you’re not interested—”
“No, I’m interested.” And she was. Many a night she had dreamed of just such a scenario: cocktails by the pool, mansion in the background. She’d seen pictures of Bobby’s house on the Internet, and of course she already knew that he had a butler; she even knew what he looked like and th
at his name was Lester. Whether she wanted Bobby in her apartment was another matter. Of course, she could find him someplace else in Manhattan, but there was that dream factor again. Her apartment had got Bobby dreaming, so she would have to sell him the dream. And she too could find a fantastic location in Beverly hills all on her own, but what she wanted was Bobby’s life; that was her dream.
As the taxi drove along, Emily thought about Bobby’s offer. The acting was something she was sure she could do. She wasn’t a little awkward schoolgirl anymore. And now she would have the lifestyle to match. Giving up her place was surely not such a hard sacrifice.
“All right, Bobby. Let’s do it.”
Bobby smiled. His plan was coming together nicely. He had his girl and she was gorgeous, and now he would have his Bohemian lifestyle, which included Broadway. For the first time in a long time, Bobby actually felt rather excited.
CHAPTER 27
They arrived in front of a deserted hospital at exactly two a.m. Bobby paid for the cab while Emily rushed ahead to talk to the receptionist. After a brief chat with an exhausted looking nurse, they were taken down halls and more halls, under blazing bright lights, through swinging doors and everyone in a rush. It was late, but there was enough activity inside the hospital to sober Bobby up.
At last they arrived at a waiting room that was deserted except for Judge sitting by himself with an empty paper coffee cup in his hand. Bobby couldn’t quite believe it was him. All this time Judge had been stationed in Manhattan with one goal: to find the girl of Bobby’s dreams; and tonight it was really happening. They had done it.
“Judge! He greeted him, and went to embrace his comrade in arms.
Judge was equally happy to see Bobby. It had been a lonely business staying in the Big Apple for so many weeks by himself. Of course, he was used to the solitary life of a private detective, and he had become closely acquainted with all those sweet girls at the Hard Land Bar; but he didn’t have a single friend here. True, he did know every receptionist in every stinking hospital in Manhattan and Brooklyn, but he was sure that didn’t count.
In Your Dreams Bobby Anderson Page 12
