Sawyer, Meryl
Page 39
She held his hand, talking to him all through the long night. Occasionally, the nurses interrupted to check on him, but mostly it was just Royce sharing with Mitch her vision of their future.
At six the doctor made his rounds. He spoke with the head nurse and consulted Mitch's chart. Finally, he told Royce, "The entire surgical team tried our damnedest to save him. Not that we don't do our best for everyone, but knowing how close to death Mitchell Durant was bothered everyone. After your article we knew someone very special was in our care."
"Is he going to make it?"
"Yes, if he keeps progressing the way he has," the doctor admitted with a shake of his head that indicated he was mystified by Mitch's progress. "By living through the night he beat the odds. His recovery is going to be slow. It'll take a long time."
"Don't worry. I'll take care of him. I have all the time in the world for Mitch." She gazed fondly at him. His eyes were still closed, his lashes casting a crescent-shaped shadow across his pale skin.
A short while later she heard, "Royce."
The sound was so faint, she thought she'd imagined it, because Mitch's eyes were still closed. She watched his lips closely. Nothing. Then his lips parted and her name came out like a whisper on the wind. The sweet sound brought tears to her eyes. Thank you, God.
She clutched his hand tightly. "I'm right here, darling." She leaned close to his good ear. "I'm never going to leave you."
His fingers lifted, searching for her hand. She slipped her hand into his and interlocked their fingers. Slowly, as if weighed down by sandbags, his eyelids fluttered open. His pupils were dilated from the drugs and had a slightly unfocused appearance. But she didn't care. They were the same deep marine-blue that she'd fallen in love with that day on the rock years ago.
She had to lean close to him to catch what he was saying. "Are you... all... right?"
"I'm fine." She kissed his cheek, so thrilled to hear his voice that tears sprang to her eyes. "Don't talk. Save your strength."
For once in the entire time she'd known Mitch, he did as he was told. It wasn't until several hours later that he opened his eyes and spoke again.
"Tell me what happened."
"It's my fault. I should have shot Brent when I had the chance. Then he wouldn't have turned on you."
Mitch's eyes were glazed, his voice only a notch above a whisper. "I remember the look on his face...."
"Now we know what the devil looks like." She tried to sound upbeat.
"Is Brent..."
"I killed him the second I realized he'd stabbed you."
"Good." Mitch tried to smile. "You saved the taxpayers a bundle. Do you know what a murder trial costs these days?"
Royce laughed—or tried to. "Same old Mitch—a wiseguy. Now I know you're getting better."
"No way. I'm a goner unless you tell me you love me."
"Don't joke, Mitch, not now, not after all we've been through." She kissed his cheek and touched his thick hair where it brushed the pillow. "You know I love you. I'll always love you."
"I love you too. I want you to marry me as soon as I get out of here."
She inhaled sharply, not wanting to break the spell, but needing to tell him. "I'm sorry about your mother. I—"
"There's nothing to be sorry for. When I thought Brent was going to kill you, I blamed myself. If I hadn't been so stubborn, you would have been with me—where you belonged—and Brent couldn't have caught you alone. If I'd lost you—"
"But you didn't. We have the rest of our lives to spend together."
"Royce, I'll love you forever." He tugged on her arm until she brought her head down to his lips. She kissed him, too aware of how cool his lips were, a chilling reminder of how close she'd come to losing him forever.
Their lips parted and he whispered, "Never underestimate the power of love."
Epilogue
Eighteen Months Later
Royce walked down the hallway of the old Victorian home nestled in the gently undulating hills of the Napa Valley outside San Francisco. At the end of a secluded country lane between vineyards, the Grayson Clinic appeared to be a large private home, not the residential care facility it actually was. Dr. Reynolds Grayson and his staff took pride in making the patients feel as if they were living in their own home.
Pausing outside the parlor where Lolly Jenkins was waiting, Royce recalled the first time she'd visited Mitch's mother more than a year ago. Royce had been accompanied by the psychiatrist on that visit, and she had been extremely nervous, unsure of what to expect or what to say, but she had to show Lolly someone cared about her. And loved her. Since Mitch couldn't do it, Royce was doing it for him.
During that initial visit Lolly had been quiet, wary. Gradually, with weekly visits, Royce had won Lolly's trust. But now it had been five weeks since Royce had last visited Lolly.
Royce had explained many times she was having a baby and wouldn't be able to visit for a few weeks. But had the message gotten through? Despite Lolly's psychological improvement she was often confused about the passage of time. How would Lolly feel about the weeks Royce hadn't been able to visit?
Royce cradled her son to her bosom and walked into the sunny room with a smile. Lolly looked up, her clear blue eyes complemented by white hair softly framing her face.
"Lolly, it's me, Royce. Remember?"
"Of course, but what—" She pointed to the blue blanket covering Matthew Jenkins Durant.
"I had the baby." She held up her month old son. "Lolly, this is Matthew."
Matthew chose that moment to have a gas attack and he smiled, his captivating blue eyes looking just like his daddy's.
"So-o-o cute. Your baby. My, my, how beautiful he is."
Royce sat on the sofa beside Lolly. The older woman gazed fondly at the baby and Royce struggled to maintain her smile. Her thoughts veered to all Lolly had missed—a lifetime of happy memories. A loving family—what Royce now held so dear. Royce forced herself to focus on the present: Lolly was slowly improving.
Royce and Mitch hadn't deluded themselves into believing Lolly would ever be completely normal. She'd probably needed psychological help from the night of the auto accident that claimed both her parents when she'd been a mere child. Most certainly, she'd been denied the necessary counseling after the gang rape.
But she had improved. The psychiatrist treating Lolly agreed with Royce that Lolly would continue to progress with the support of a loving family.
Never underestimate the power of love.
Today would be the test of the cornerstone of Royce's plan, and she was just as nervous as she had been the first time she'd visited Lolly. As Mitch's mother gazed at the infant she didn't realize was her grandson, Royce prayed her idea would work—not just for Lolly, but for Mitch. She loved him so much, it actually hurt sometimes. She'd do anything on earth to make him happy. Oh, he swore he was happy, but Royce knew how much he longed to see his mother.
Was there anything more powerful than a mother's love? No, Royce decided, as she cuddled Matthew. A mother's love was sacred.
"Would you like to hold him?" she asked Lolly.
"Oh, yes." Lolly held out her arms.
Now comes the hard part. Royce waited a few minutes to be certain Lolly and Matt were comfortable with each other. Lolly had the baby resting in her arms and was cooing to him. "Matthew's father is waiting outside. He'd like to meet you."
"Me?" Lolly asked in that faraway voice that meant she wasn't really concentrating. "Me? Someone wants to meet me?"
A spasm of doubt shook Royce. Was Lolly ready to see her son again? Was it too soon?
"Your husband, right?" Now Lolly's gaze was clear, totally lucid.
"Yes. He's just outside."
"Have him come in." Lolly smiled down at Matt. "I'm going to meet your daddy."
Royce stood, mentally crossing her fingers. This had to work. "Hold on tight to Matt. I'll be right back."
Mitch managed a smile when Royce came to the door and told him to co
me in. He loved her more than he could express, more than he'd thought possible. And together they'd created a miracle—a son.
He walked behind Royce into the parlor and saw his mother for the first time in over twenty years. The last time he'd seen her, she'd come after him with a garden trowel, nearly blinding him. She'd aged, her hair now white, but her face, a delicate oval with expressive eyes, remained the same. She didn't seem aware of them; she was too busy cooing to his son.
He whispered to Royce, "Thank you. This means the world to me—just seeing my mother with Matt."
Lolly kissed the baby's head where a single tuft of black hair grazed his forehead. Royce tugged on Mitch's hand, silently urging him forward.
"Lolly, this is Matthew's father, Mitchell Durant."
Mitch quickly sat in the chair the psychiatrist had positioned opposite the sofa, insisting tall men were less threatening when seated. Lolly clutched the baby, regarding Mitch without a flicker of recognition.
"Hello." Mitch suppressed a sigh of relief. Royce's plan had worked. With his phony mustache and his gray wig and thick glasses, he scarcely recognized himself. For damn sure he didn't look a thing like his father.
"Hullo," Lolly responded tentatively, eyeing him with suspicion and cradling the baby to her generous bosom as if she expected Mitch to snatch up the infant and toss him out the window. She turned to Royce, who'd sat beside her, and spoke as if Mitch weren't there. "Isn't he too old for you?"
Royce smiled at Mitch, silently telegraphing the first hurdle was over. "He's younger than he looks."
Mitch didn't say anything. The psychiatrist had cautioned them to take small steps. For today his mother's acceptance of him in the same room was enough to make him happy. Once he could never have conceived of having all the people he loved so much in the same room. Smiling. Happy.
Was it any wonder he'd fallen so deeply in love with Royce? This miracle had been her idea. She'd worked hard for over a year to make his dream come true.
"Mitch is a judge," Royce informed Lolly.
"That so?" Lolly gazed at him curiously. "Like Judge Wapner?"
"Something like that," Mitch answered, pleased his mother had directed the question to him. She'd spent so much of her life away from the world that her image of reality had been honed by television. No doubt her concept of a trial was the arguments that normally would have been settled in small claims courts but had been pumped up into soap-opera proportions for Judge Wapner on The People's Court.
"What was your most exciting case?" Lolly asked.
Mitch hesitated. In his short time on the bench he'd heard the usually depressing array of drug cases, a murder too gruesome to think about, and a child molestation case he couldn't possibly discuss.
Royce rescued him. "Mitch once saved a cougar."
"Really? What happened?"
As his son slept in his grandmother's arms, Mitch told Lolly about the cougar who'd attacked the turkey hunter. He slowly explained the case, keeping it exciting, but let his mother become accustomed to his face, his voice.
"That so?" Lolly cried, clapping her hands. "The cougar's still free. My, my."
Mitch had never viewed the cougar as one of his best cases, but what the hell? Justice was in the eye of the beholder.
Too soon a nurse dressed casually in jeans in the noninstitutional attire all of the staff wore, called his mother in to lunch. The doctor had insisted Mitch's first visit be short, but this was too short. Still, he couldn't complain. They'd gotten much further with Lolly than any of them had thought possible.
"Good-bye," Mitch said.
Lolly clutched Royce's arm. "When are you coming back?"
"Would you like me to bring Mitch and the baby next week?"
Lolly looked shyly at Mitch. "Yes. I like those funny stories."
"We'll come next Saturday," Mitch promised. He stood, his arm around Royce, as his mother left, saying good-bye.
Thanks," Mitch said quietly as Lolly disappeared.
"It's going to be all right," Royce said. "You'll see. This is only the beginning."
"I've waited so long for this day. I can't tell you how much I appreciate what you've done except to say, I love you." He kissed her lightly on the cheek, then patted his son's little bottom. "I love you both—more than I can say."
"I love—" Royce stopped.
Mitch turned, his arm still around Royce, and saw his mother rushing back into the room.
"Royce, wait," she said. "I forgot to tell you something."
Lolly stopped before them, her eyes on Matthew. He was fussing a little, reminding Royce it was time to nurse. The mewling cries sidetracked Lolly. She cooed to the baby and brushed a kiss across his plump cheek.
"Lolly," Royce prompted, "what did you want to tell me?"
Lolly looked first at Royce, then at Mitch, and finally back at the baby. "Once, a long, long time ago in a place far away, I had a baby." Tears pooled in Lolly's eyes. It was all Mitch could do not to take her into his arms and hug her.
"But they took my darling little boy away from me. Said I wasn't a fit mother. It wasn't true. Believe me, I loved Bobby. I've never forgotten him. He is the most precious thing in the world to me."
Critically acclaimed author, Meryl Sawyer won the Romantic Times award as best new contemporary author. She is a world traveler who has visited exotic places from North Africa to China. Meryl is presently working on her next contemporary romance for Dell.
"People often ask me where I get my ideas. Most of them come from real life, from people I've met or places I've been. PROMISE ME ANYTHING is about a girl's best friend-diamonds. The plot came to me when I read about the disturbance in the diamond market during the Gulf War. I wove that real incident around a passionate love story. To me, the heart of a good book should be a romance.
"With A KISS IN THE DARK, I was inspired by a comment a prominent attorney made at a party. What would you do if you were accused of a serious crime? This is exactly what happens to my heroine. She learns more than she ever wanted to know about justice in America—and finds true love.
"When I'm not writing, my husband and I like to sail from Los Angeles to Catalina Island on our yacht with our three golden retrievers, Abigail, Alexis and Dodger-Dog. I love to let the retrievers walk me along the nature conservancy trails. Our favorite time is spring when the buffalo calves aren't much bigger than my retrievers, and from the rolling green hills we can see the gray whales migrating escorted by schools of playful dolphins."
Table of Contents
PART I: Bad Moon Rising
CHAPTER 1
CHAPTER 2
CHAPTER 3
CHAPTER 4
CHAPTER 5
CHAPTER 6
CHAPTER 7
CHAPTER 8
PART II: Rabbit E. Lee
CHAPTER 9
CHAPTER 10
CHAPTER 11
CHAPTER 12
CHAPTER 13
CHAPTER 14
CHAPTER 15
CHAPTER 16
CHAPTER 17
CHAPTER 18
CHAPTER 19
CHAPTER 20
CHAPTER 21
CHAPTER 22
CHAPTER 23
PART III: Justice in America
CHAPTER 24
CHAPTER 25
CHAPTER 26
CHAPTER 27
CHAPTER 28
CHAPTER 29
CHAPTER 30
CHAPTER 31
CHAPTER 32