Yet he didn’t. He stayed frozen in his seat, terrified of rejection. Again.
Instead, he turned back to his mother. “And if it’s his heart valves, can they fix it?”
She blinked away the wetness in her eyes. “The doctor says if that’s it, then yes.”
“And if it’s not?”
She shrugged. “He didn’t say.”
Owen stood and went to the window, looking out at the manicured lawns surrounding the hospital. With the snap of a finger, life could change. His father could’ve died if he’d continued to say nothing. Gone, no longer there to put Owen down. But the idea of Dad no longer being there left a hole inside his chest.
Every fight they’d had through his teenage and college years seemed petty. Stupid things, really, all started because they were alike. Both knew what they loved and had strong opinions about it. Problems came when their likes fell on opposite ends of the spectrum and Dad’s resentment over their differences put a wedge between them. Leaving England had allowed Owen relief from his father’s disdain. Relief from the constant reminders that he’d failed the man he’d looked up to as a child.
Today served a dose of reality. The clock of their lives could stop for either one of them any minute. Could they ever get to a better place after a lifetime of separation?
His throat clogged and eyes filled with tears, blurring the view outside. He stayed in that spot to pull himself together.
Once he had, he turned around. “I told the office not to expect me back, so I’ll be here all day.”
His mother nodded and gave him a sad smile.
Owen slowly walked over and stood by his dad’s bedside. Drawing from a force inside of him that always wanted his father’s love but never seemed to get it, he rested a hand on his father’s shoulder. Still muscular, like Owen remembered from his childhood, but bonier with age.
His father stiffened and his eyes flashed open. “I’ll be fine, Owen.” He shrugged his shoulder, but Owen kept his hand in place and sat on the edge of the mattress.
He stared at his father. “Now listen to me, you grouchy bastard. Start listening to these doctors and start taking care of yourself.”
Dad grumbled and shut his eyes tight, but Owen didn’t care. He’d do everything in his power to heal the rift between them, even if it meant swallowing his pride.
* * * *
“Ouch!”
“Sorry, Willow.” Edna removed the bobby pin she’d just poked into Willow’s scalp. “A hairstylist, I’m not.”
“Are you kidding? What you’ve done is beautiful.”
Willow stared at her reflection in the round makeup table mirror. Edna had twisted her hair into a loose bun, leaving soft tendrils to sweep her cheeks. The finishing touch a thin headband of pearl beads, positioned like a crown of jewels.
Edna stood back and studied Willow. “Lovely. Just lovely. Stand up. Let’s see it from top to bottom.”
Willow rose, gathering the long gown in her hands. She stepped aside from the seat and went to a full-length mirror. As she let go of the light blue brocade fabric, it fell over the petticoat to her feet. While the dress covered more than usual from the waist down, the low scoop neck and back, short puffy sleeves, and snug bodice exposed more of her chest and neck than most of her blouses. Both the skirt bottom and the bodice had a delicate embroidered pattern. She pointed one foot, admiring her silk navy slippers.
This gown empowered her, filling her with a breath of femininity. Locked up inside her but rarely used because she never believed she could pull it off. Right now, she felt dainty, almost light on her feet, despite the heaviness of the dress.
“Do you think I have on enough makeup?” She moved closer to the mirror, studying the mascara, shimmery pink lipstick, and two sweeps of rose-petal-colored rouge.
“It’s perfect. Women didn’t wear a lot of makeup back then.”
Willow stared at her reflection, that of a stranger. The woman before her radiated beauty. Not only outwardly, but giving rise to a new feeling inside of her, as well. The inner voice of judgment, always present with each glimpse in the mirror, had gone silent for once. A new voice emerged, one whispering a phrase she rarely heard. You look pretty.
Owen’s attention made her feel that way, too. She couldn’t wait to see him, although this happy tale would end. One date with a man who lived thousands of miles away from New York wouldn’t have any staying power. And yet, nobody could steal from her memory of his tender kiss, a moment that had caused butterflies to stir in her in anticipation of tonight’s date.
“Wait’ll Owen sees you. He’s likely to make sure you never leave town.” Edna handed her a pair of long gloves. “You need these, too.”
As Willow slipped them over her bare arms, she smiled at Edna. “You look beautiful, too. Has Eddie seen you yet?”
Edna blushed, turning close to the color of her crimson gown. She pushed away the compliment with a wave of her hand. “He’s getting ready. After all our years of marriage, I dare say he’ll not even notice.”
“He’d have to be blind.”
“Enough about me. What time is Owen expected?”
“About twenty minutes.” She reached down and picked up her phone. “I know this is silly, but can you take a picture of me? Nobody at home will believe I did this.”
Edna stuck out her hand. “Are you kidding? You look like you were born wearing those clothes.”
“Do you think? I’m strangely comfortable dressed this way.”
Edna snapped several photos. Just as Edna handed Willow her phone, Eddie hollered from downstairs. “You ladies almost ready?”
“Yes, dear.” Edna pointed to the bed. “Don’t forget your reticule.”
Willow reached for the beaded drawstring bag Edna had loaned her earlier, used like a purse in the Regency era. “Oh yes. I need a place for my cell phone.” Willow laughed. “If that isn’t ironic.”
Edna smiled politely, like it hadn’t been the first time she’d heard that one, and left the room.
Willow picked up the accessory, tossed in her cell phone, and followed Edna downstairs. Eddie sat at the lobby computer desk, typing away while dressed in a short-waisted coat with tails, fitted cream-colored pants, and thin white socks covering his full calves. The marvelous juxtaposition of the modern world and simpler times again made her laugh.
Eddie looked up, his gray brows lifting as they neared. “Well, my oh my. You two look stunning.” His gaze rested on his wife. “I’ll be the luckiest man there, my dear. Well, me and Owen.”
Willow’s cell phone rang. She pulled it from her bag. Owen’s name appeared on the display. “Hello?”
“Willow, it’s Owen.”
His serious tone and use of her proper name made her stomach dip. “Everything all right?”
“I had no idea about the time. I’m at the hospital and the doctor came in when I’d started to call you earlier—”
“Hospital?” Her heart stilled. “Are you all right? Is Jilly all right?”
“We are. It’s my dad.” His voice cracked. “He passed out midmorning. They’ve been doing tests all day here at Royal United. I wanted to make it tonight, but—”
“Owen, don’t be silly. Your father comes first.”
“Yes. He does.” The sadness in his tone tugged at her heart. “I apologize for calling so late. I just kept debating about what to do, but I can’t leave until we speak to the doctor. He hasn’t come in yet.”
“Don’t even worry about me. What’s wrong? Why did he pass out?”
“It’s his heart. We are told the problem is fixable, so that’s the good news. But another physician is stopping by sometime a bit later with more details.” He sighed loudly. “God, Willow, I’m so sorry.”
“Owen, please don’t be sorry. I completely understand. Can I do anything?”
“Yes, p
lease still go. It’s an event you really shouldn’t miss.”
“Of course, I will.” Disappointment bubbled inside her chest, but she firmly tamped it down. He must be sick with worry for his father, which made her worry about him. “Call me if you need me.”
“I will.” His voice softened. “I’ll be with you in spirit. If someone asks you to dance, you should. You’ll be the best dancer there.”
She laughed. “I’m pretty sure you’re lying now.”
He chuckled, but without his usual pep. “Rosebud, I will find a way to make this up to you, I promise.”
“There’s no need, Owen.”
“Hold on.” As she waited, low muffled voices sounded in the background before he returned. “The nurse just confirmed the doctor will be here between 8:00 and 9:00, so I’ll have more answers then.”
“Good. I’ll say a prayer for your dad.”
They said goodbye and hung up. She explained what happened to Eddie and Edna, who were happy to drive her.
Soon they arrived in Bath. In their search for a parking space, they drove past the ball venue, Guildhall, a Georgian-styled building made of whitish-gray stone and tall palladium windows. Eddie pulled over and let them out to wait while he parked, returning five minutes later from a spot a few blocks away.
He offered them each an arm and they entered the building. Willow stepped into another world, surrounded by folks decked out in Regency attire while music piped in from centuries past filled the air. Even with all the excitement, Owen’s dad was never far from her thoughts.
Eddie saw a friend and wandered off, but Edna looped an arm through hers and they kept walking. “Did you know a Georgian or Regency lady couldn’t turn down an invitation to dance unless she could claim a previous engagement to dance, or unless she planned to sit out the remaining dances of the evening?”
“No. I didn’t. What if she was tired?”
“Then her dancing for the night was done. Of course, we don’t do that now.”
Edna continued talking about customs of the era while they wandered in a sea of formality. Women in gowns made with silky fabrics, accessorized with pearls, cameos, and jeweled hair clips. Men in tall hats and fitted pants, almost all in short-waisted jackets with long tails.
This spectacular scene revived history, in a way. The history of her mother’s people. Willow lifted her chin a bit higher as they neared propped-open double doors leading into the ballroom. Yes, this event was her history, too.
Eddie met back up with them as they entered the ballroom. Enormous chandeliers hung from lofty ceilings, casting a subdued light on the mint-colored walls, a sharp contract to dark wood floors. Evergreen molding, carved with an intricate design, outlined the ceiling. Tall windows filled one wall, each one with a smaller circular window above it. She turned in a full circle, taking it all in. Oil paintings galore graced the walls, large canvases of both men and women from the Regency era.
Eddie turned to them. “Shall I get us drinks? White wine okay, ladies?”
They both said yes.
He walked off and Edna put a hand on Willow’s arm. “So? You’re impressed.”
“I feel like I’ve time traveled.”
Edna laughed and took her hand. “I see my friends. Let’s go over.”
Edna guided her to a group of several woman and men, including Kathleen, who’d loaned Willow the dress. She was introduced to the others while a small group of musicians readied their instruments in the far corner.
Her new acquaintances were friendly people, happy Willow could share this night with them. Soon music filled the room. Violin, flute, and piano harmonized to make a beautiful, lively sound, encouraging people onto the dance floor.
Willow watched mostly, simply amazed to be in this setting. She imagined dancing with Owen and sadness took hold, although she heard the disappointment in his voice when he’d called to cancel.
“Willow?” Eddie appeared in front of her. “May I have this dance? Edna says it’s one you learned for tonight.”
“Oh, yes. I’d love to.” Willow took his hand, counting her blessings that she’d stumbled on the kindness of this sweet man and his wife on this trip.
He led her to the dance floor. For once, she put aside her sarcastic, down-putting remarks about herself. Confidence guided her with nary a slipup, and even when she did, Eddie was too much of a gentleman to say a word.
When it finished, she returned to her seat. Owen weighed on her mind. He’d have fit right in here, almost naturally so. She sighed. Family duty called, but she wished for a way to help him.
The music ended. As Edna walked toward her, an idea crossed Willow’s mind.
“Whew, I’m exhausted.” Edna dropped into the seat beside Willow and kicked off her shoes. “I told Eddie to dance with my friend. I can’t keep up with him.”
“You two dance so well.” Willow’s little idea nudged at her, but she debated.
“Well, thank you, but it didn’t happen overnight.” She fanned herself with her hand. “We took classes.”
“They paid off.” Willow glanced at her watch. 8:40. Her idea clicked into place.
She turned to Edna. “Where is Royal United Hospital?”
“Right here in Bath.”
“Walking distance?”
“A short cab ride, I’d say. Why?”
“I’m worried about Owen. Do you think he’d be happy to see me if I went over to keep him company? It’s possible his dad is sleeping by now, but I just want to show Owen some support. He’s been such a big help to me, and I want to return the favor.”
Edna grinned. “I think Owen would be thrilled to pieces to see you walk through that door. Go. If you need us to pick you up later, call Eddie’s cell phone.”
Willow retrieved her shawl and reticule. She called for a cab. Five minutes later a driver pulled in front of Guildhall and whisked her off to the hospital.
As she approached the reception desk, she vowed that if anything clued her into this being a bad move, she’d scoot out before Owen saw her.
She found out the room number and headed up to the floor. Heads turned as she walked the hallways, presumably because she dressed as if she’d time traveled here.
Once at the room, she stood outside. A television mounted high on the wall cast a shadowy glow in the dimly lit room. Owen sat in a chair, his gaze trained on the floor, his brow furrowed. Maybe the news hadn’t been good. Her motives to visit suddenly seemed selfish. She’d leave, before he saw her.
That second, he glanced out into the hallway and their eyes met.
* * * *
Owen blinked, certain he’d fallen asleep and only dreamed about the gorgeous vision in the hallway. She smiled and waved. He straightened in his seat. “Willow?”
She moved to the door threshold and whispered, “Is it a bad time?”
“No. Not at all.” He’d just been thinking of her, wishing he’d been able to go tonight. Spotting her, his wishes had come true. “Hold on.”
He stepped behind the curtain to where his mother sat at his father’s side watching the TV. “Be right back.”
She nodded.
Owen found Willow away from the door, pacing the hallway. He hurried over to her and took her hands. “Why aren’t you at the ball?”
“I had fun for a while, but couldn’t stop thinking about you.”
“Me?”
She frowned. “Yes. This must be stressful. I could go get you some dinner, or help with Jilly.”
His heart swelled. When had someone last cared about him? Every single relationship he’d ever had, he’d been the giver. Giving until it hurt, asking for little in return.
He held out her arms. “You, in that dress.” Her lovely curves filled out the bodice and the gown color accented the hues of her gorgeous blue eyes. “I thought I was dreaming.”
“Dreaming?” She laughed. “Now don’t go…” Willow paused, lifted her chin. “You know, I feel pretty great tonight.”
“Good because, by God, you shine.”
Her cheeks flushed, adding a hint of naiveté to the strong woman who stood before him.
“I can’t believe you’re here,” he said quietly. “There must’ve been men queued up for a mile to dance with you.”
“Owen?” His mother came to the door. “Everything all right?”
He took Willow’s hand and guided her over. “Yes, Mum. Remember Willow?”
“Nice to see you again, Mrs. Hughes.”
“Ginny, please.” She glanced at their joined hands for a brief moment. “You look stunning. You were at the ball tonight?”
“I was.”
“I’d planned on taking Willow, until Dad got sick.”
A little smile crept up his mother’s lips. “Ah, I see. Well, come in and see Frank. He’s awake and in better spirits. We just got news the procedure should fix him up like new.”
Willow followed his mother into the room, and he joined them.
“Frank, you have a visitor. Owen’s friend.”
“Willow! What a nice surprise.”
It shocked Owen to see his father so happy and animated with her, given his disposition most of the day. But Dad always put on a smile for others. Just like Owen.
Yup, they were two peas plucked from the same pod. If this moment didn’t make that crystal clear, then none would.
“You didn’t get dressed in costume for me, did you?” His dad grinned.
Willow laughed and put her purse and shawl onto the table near Owen’s chair. “Of course I did.”
“Uh-oh.” Dad glanced at his wife and Owen. “I think we have us another kidder in our midst.”
Willow went closer to his bed, her presence bringing new life to the room. “You caught me. I attended the Jane Austen ball, not far from the hospital. I wanted to see how you were feeling.”
His father talked about the day, quite openly in fact. Owen stood to the side and watched. How easily his father spoke to Willow, when he often barely spoke to Owen. When the conversation died down, Owen said, “I’ve been teaching Willow how to dance for the ball. She’s a natural.”
Willow's Way Page 18
