The receptionist typed the name into a computer and after an eternity, or so it seemed to Rich, the information came up on a screen. She jotted the floor, ward and room number onto a sheet of paper and pointed Rich in the general direction. “Just follow the green lines to the elevator, and when you reach the floor, turn left.”
Rich nodded, grabbed Jennifer by the hand and followed the green line to a bank of elevators.
As the doors closed behind them, Jennifer drew in a deep breath. What was she doing here with a man she hardly knew, visiting a sister he hadn’t seen in years? She didn’t belong here. She didn’t want to be here.
But when she glanced at Rich and caught his grim expression in the mirrored walls of the elevator, she knew she had to stay. She might have entered into this venture as a detective, but now she was emotionally involved. If not with Rich, at least with the case.
She had to know how it turned out. She had to know if there was a happy ending.
The elevator stopped at the appropriate floor with a gentle jerk, and the doors seemed to take forever to open. Finally, they stepped out and into a wide area that branched into three halls. “Left, the receptionist said.” Jennifer urged him through a set of swinging doors and toward the nurses’ station beyond. She didn’t know why, but she could tell that Rich’s state of anxiety had to do with more than just worry for his sister.
A pretty, young woman looked up and smiled. “Are you Sergeant Larsen?”
“Who to—? How…?” He wore the expression of a boy caught with his fingers in the cookie jar, and Jennifer loved the way it softened his hard face.
“A Mrs. Benton called and said you were on your way,” the nurse said, putting down a chart and coming around the desk. “She wanted to be certain your visit wouldn’t be too much of a shock.”
“A shock?”
Jennifer hadn’t thought of that, and Rich hadn’t been thinking clearly at all. It hadn’t occurred to her that this visit might be upsetting to Sherry. “Will she be able to handle seeing her brother?”
“It’s probably the best medicine she could have other than having her children come see her, but you know the rules about children on the wards.” She gestured toward some chairs in a small waiting area.
“I’d rather go see my sister,” Rich said, holding his ground.
“And so you shall,” the nurse said. “But I have to prepare you for what you’re going to see.”
“Prepare me? Is there more I don’t know?” Rich sat in the indicated chair though he looked like he wanted to get up and run.
The nurse sat across from him, her knees almost touching his. “No. I just want to assure you that your sister will probably make a complete recovery. She’s not in that much pain, though she’s obviously sad.” The nurse placed a hand over Rich’s, and Jennifer felt a slight finger of jealousy stab at her, but she shook that notion away. She barely knew the man.
“Your sister is wearing a rather complicated apparatus called a halo. It looks frightening, but it’s serving to stabilize her neck, and it’s actually relieving her of pain, rather than causing it.” She described it, then waited for Rich’s response.
“I don’t care if she’s in plaster from head to toe. It’s been a long time, and I just want to see my sister.”
“Then, let’s go.” The nurse rose and gestured toward a corridor behind the nurses’ station.
Jennifer squeezed Rich’s hand. “I’ll just stay here. This is your reunion. I don’t know your sister.” She wouldn’t tell him that she was a coward, that she was afraid of the intense emotions this moment was about to bring.
“No. Come with me. Wait out in the hall, or something. Just be nearby in case I need backup.”
As much as Jennifer didn’t want to go, the panic in Rich’s eyes told her she had to.
Rich followed the nurse down the corridor feeling as though his feet were encased in concrete. He wanted to see Sherry, yet he dreaded what he might find. He’d had more than his share of shocks today.
“Wait here,” the nurse said as they reached a door. There was a nameplate of sorts: a strip of masking tape with Connolly scrawled on it with a red marker. They waited outside for what seemed like the longest moment of his life while the nurse went in.
“Richie?”
It sounded like Sherry. Only softer, huskier. The lump returned with vengeance, and Rich’s eyes burned. Had the change in the timbre of her voice come from her injuries or the passage of time?
The nurse beckoned, and Rich stepped inside.
“Richie. It is you,” a pale apparition inside an Erector set project of braces and stainless steel said. She looked as if she were being tortured by something from the Spanish Inquisition, but the smile on her face was angelic. She reached through a maze of tubes and wires toward him.
“It’s me. In the flesh,” he said, taking her hand. That lump made it damned hard to talk.
“And so much more flesh than the last time I saw you,” Sherry said. “I guess they feed you pretty well in the air force.”
“They did. Now I feed myself. And I work out.” As if two hours of hard PT every day would qualify as a workout. It was more like the Olympic Decathlon with the Bataan Death March combined.
“You look wonderful.” Sherry smiled ruefully. “Don’t feel you have to compliment me in return. I know what I must look like.” She let go of him and waved, encumbered with tubes from a nearby intravenous setup, toward the halo apparatus. “I promise, I’m not into body piercing,” she said, indicating the brace that appeared to be anchored directly into her skull.
“You look damned good to me. I didn’t think I’d ever see you ag—” He stopped, his throat too constricted to go on.
“I’m so sorry, Richie. It was so stupid of me to leave the Parkers after I graduated and not tell anybody where I was. I was so upset about you going overseas and leaving me behind, I wasn’t thinking clearly. At the time, I really thought you didn’t want to be bothered with me.”
“You know that wasn’t why I couldn’t take you. I explained it.” Rich’s throat was still tight, his voice husky, but he swallowed and went on. “I was just an airman. We had to have orders just to pi—” Remembering where he was, he stopped.
“I know that now.” She paused, her welcoming smile gone, replaced by one more melancholy. One that matched the dull blue of her eyes. “Mike explained it all to me.”
Rich sucked in a deep breath. He had hoped they could avoid the topic of her husband. He wasn’t sure he knew what to say to a woman who’d been hurt and bereaved all at the same time. Even if she was his sister. “I’m sorry….” It seemed so inadequate, but he didn’t know what else to say.
“I wish you could have known him,” Sherry said, her eyes misty, her voice thick. “He was the best thing that ever happened to me.” She paused. “Him and the kids.” She reached through the apparatus and wiped at her eyes.
“Yeah.” Rich didn’t know what else to say. His eyes burned like crazy and for a moment his world looked as though he were seeing it through rippled glass. He swallowed. He was supposed to be strong for Sherry.
He rubbed at his stinging eyes with the back of his hand and looked away. When his vision finally cleared and the lump in his throat shrank from baseball to golf-ball size, he looked back. Sherry was looking at something on the tray table at the side of her bed and making no effort to disguise her streaming eyes.
“This is a picture of us,” she said, her voice watery and thin. “We took it at Easter. It was one of the rare moments we were all dressed up at the same time.”
Rich followed the direction of her gaze and focused on the framed picture of a happy family. The lump in his throat swelled once more. It was past tense. Sherry’s husband would never pose with them again.
“Sometimes it doesn’t seem real,” Sherry said, her voice cracking. “But at night I get snatches of memory. I hear the rain. I feel the moisture on my face. I see Mike lying so impossibly still.” She sniffed back more tear
s. “I remember the policeman muttering to his partner about the guy being a goner.
“I couldn’t even go to the funeral.” She broke down then, her sobs wracking and harsh.
He had no idea what to do, so he took her hand and held on. He squeezed it from time to time until she stopped weeping. “I’m so sorry, Sherry. I wish it had never happened. I wish I had been there for you.” Rich paused. “Hell, I wish I could’ve taken you to Germany with me. Maybe, none of this would have happened.”
“No,” Sherry said, her tone emphatic. “My time with Mike was short, but I wouldn’t give up a minute of it if it meant not knowing him at all.” She smiled sadly. “I loved him, but I have the kids to keep me going. His kids. He’s gone, but he left a big part of him in the world.”
Rich couldn’t look at her. He didn’t know how to act, how to respond. Instead, he stared at the picture and tried to get some sense of the brother-in-law he’d never know. Mike had been a big man. He had the tanned, fit appearance of someone who worked outside. Rich wondered if he worked with his hands.
He couldn’t tell much about the baby—they all looked like Yoda to him. But the little girl, a pixie with a mop of curly red hair, had mugged for the camera like she didn’t have a care in the world.
“I wish you could’ve met Mike,” Sherry said softly.
“Yeah, me, too.”
Sherry opened her mouth to speak, but a commotion in the hall stopped her. She turned her gaze toward the door as a pretty young woman with a mane of chestnut hair came bursting in.
“I’m sorry I’m so late,” she said breathlessly. “But Mrs. Garrigan couldn’t come to sit until her daughter picked up her ki—” She stopped, apparently only just noticing Rich.
“It’s okay, Rebecca. Catch your breath, then I have someone I’d like you to meet.”
Rebecca, still flushed from rushing, turned toward Rich. “Are you…?”
“Yeah. I’m the long lost brother.” He offered his hand.
“We’ve been trying to find you, since…How did you know Sherry was here?” She stopped, obviously still flustered, and looked at his hand. “Oh, I’m Rebecca Tucker. Sherry and I were roommates in college.” She pushed her hand toward him.
“Rich Larsen,” he said. “I guess I should thank you for stepping in with the kids.”
“Thank you,” she answered. “I love those kids as if they were my own. I couldn’t imagine anyone else taking care of them.”
“What about that lady next door?” Hadn’t she said she’d been baby-sitting the night it happened?
“Mrs. B?” Sherry smiled, her face angelic in spite of the metal contraption surrounding it. “She’d love to, but she works nights to help put two kids through college, so she isn’t available.”
“We weren’t about to let them go to strangers,” Rebecca cut in. “They go to their regular day care in the daytime, and stay with me at night.” She shrugged. “It works.”
“And I will not let them become wards of the court,” Sherry added emphatically, her voice breaking. “I’ve been there, and it won’t happen to my kids.”
Rich swallowed and wondered what to say. Had it been so bad for Sherry after he left? Should he have stayed around and looked out for her? He thought he’d made the right decision. After all, what better way to harness the brutal tendencies he’d surely inherited than to focus on using them for the good of his country?
“Richie is stationed at Hurlburt now,” Sherry said, her voice watery, the tone falsely cheerful. “He hired a private detective to look for me.”
“Sherry is the only person left in the world who calls me Richie,” he said, noticing that he was still holding Rebecca’s hand and also noticing that he didn’t get the same electrical charge from Rebecca as he had when he’d shaken Jennifer’s hand that first time. He released her. “I’d like to keep it that way.”
Rebecca smiled. “I understand.” She paused. “It’s nice to meet you, Rich.”
“Yeah. Sorry about the circumstances.”
“Me, too.”
“Well, if there’s anything I can do to help, don’t hesitate to call.” He patted the many pockets of his BDU shirt and located a pen. “If you have a piece of paper I’ll give you my phone number and address.”
“In the drawer, I think,” Sherry said, casting her gaze toward the bedside table.
Rich found a small notepad and scribbled the information. “This is my home number and that’s the admin clerk for the unit. I’m gone a lot on temporary duty or TDY. When I’m on TDY, he’ll be able to track me down.” He placed the pad on the table.
He shoved the pen back in his pocket and worried about the awkward silence. He had a lot to say to Sherry, but it didn’t seem right with Rebecca there. And he’d left Jennifer waiting for him out in the hall. He wouldn’t be surprised if she got fed up and left. He wanted to stay, but he searched for an excuse to leave.
The phone rang.
“Guess that’s my nightly ‘good-night’ from Caitlyn,” Sherry said, her face glowing.
Rebecca handed the phone to Sherry. “Caitlyn calls every night so Sherry can listen to her prayers.”
Rich nodded, touched by the idea. He swallowed and changed the subject. “Who’s taking care of the kids now?” He should have asked that earlier, but this family stuff was still new to him.
“They’re at my apartment. My landlady watches them at night when I come here.”
The nurse who had shown Rich the room, stuck her head in. “I’m sorry, but visiting hours are over.”
Rich reached for Sherry’s hand. She was still listening to the phone, and she smiled at him. “Gotta go,” he mouthed. “I’ll try to get back tomorrow.”
Sad that he had to leave Sherry, but relieved at the same time, Rich backed out the door.
He started to go, but turned back to Rebecca. “I meant what I said. Don’t hesitate to call if you need anything.”
“Sure.”
Sherry waved and blew him a kiss. Startled, Rich returned it. Then with the unaccustomed burning back in his eyes, he looked for Jennifer.
Jennifer looked up from a dog-eared magazine as Rich approached. She must have slipped back to the waiting area once she saw that the visit was going well.
The storm that had been threatening had finally kept its promise. Thunder rumbled and the occasional flash of lightning streaked the sky. “How did it go?”
“Pretty good,” he said, his voice thick with emotion as he took the hard, plastic seat beside her. “It was more difficult than I thought, but great seeing Sherry. I wish I could help her out, but she’s got a friend who seems to have everything under control. The best I can do is offer moral support.”
Jennifer took his hand, but a sudden jolt of electricity made her let go too quickly. Had lightning struck nearby? She caught her breath and swallowed. “Well, it’ll get easier each time.”
Thunder crashed even closer than before. Rich looked up. “It’s raining?”
“It’ll rain itself out soon. You know how these storms are this time of year.” She paused. “But I don’t think I’d want to drive in it. Do you want to find the cafeteria and get a cup of coffee and wait it out?”
“Coffee’s the last thing I need this time of night, but I sure don’t want to go out into that storm. Sherry doesn’t need me winding up in the hospital, too.” And truth be known, he kinda liked being around Jennifer. He didn’t know why. She wasn’t anything like the squared-away, military women he was used to.
They found the cafeteria and collected steaming cups of decaffeinated coffee. Rich described his visit with Sherry, Rebecca’s rushed arrival and Sherry’s nightly prayer sessions with Caitlyn. As he talked, he wondered at how he, a guy who could rappel up the side of a building in full combat gear with a K-bar knife between his teeth, could suddenly think such ordinary things were so cool, much less spend hours talking about it.
He glanced up at the clock over the cash register. It was pushing ten o’clock. He had to show u
p for PT at zero six-thirty, and it was still a long drive home.
He glanced at Jennifer, and wished there was a way he could contrive to keep seeing her. But now that Jennifer had found Sherry, his business with her was done. After tonight he’d never see her again.
Chapter Three
Rich was glad he’d asked Jennifer to come with him. The way his mind had wandered all the way home, he suspected he’d have more likely run off the rain-slick highway than gotten home safely. And, he liked the idea that Jennifer seemed to care about what happened to him.
In no time the trip was over.
They passed the brightly lit gate of Hurlburt Air Force Base and continued on toward Fort Walton Beach. With rush hour long over, most of the traffic was headed for the Island where the tourists stayed. The roads were nearly empty now, and the going was easy. A few more minutes and they’d reach Jennifer’s office, she could pick up her car and he could go home.
Trouble was, he didn’t want to. He didn’t want to go home to that empty apartment. Ski, his roommate, was on temporary duty, and though he’d rejoiced at finally being eligible to live off base, there were times when he missed the noise and camaraderie of living in the dormitories.
“We’re here,” Jennifer said quietly and roused him from his introspection.
Rich looked around. The street was dark and desolate, and the only sign of life was a man of questionable sobriety lurching down the sidewalk. “Where’s your car?” he asked, suddenly realizing that his truck was the only vehicle on the block.
“In the alley around back. We try to keep the spots in front free for customers,” Jennifer replied matter-of-factly as she pulled up to the curb.
Rich eyed the drunk, then assessed the situation again. “No way in hell I’m letting you walk down that dark alley by yourself at this time of night.” He pushed open his door as Jennifer opened hers.
She stopped halfway between the running board and the sidewalk, hovering above the curb like a butterfly in flight. “Excuse me.” She lowered herself the rest of the way to the ground. “You won’t let me walk down that alley? Who gave you the right to give me permission to do anything?”
Uncle Sarge Page 3
