by Gun Brooke
Sheridan pressed the button for the next voice mail. Somehow it was comforting to hear the voices from Austin, even if they became increasingly concerned with each call.
“Sheri, Drew here,” a soft, light voice said. Drew. Oh, God. Sheridan was about to press the skip button, but relented as Drew really sounded worried. “I think something’s happened to you. You’re never gone this long, and you never treat people rudely. Fergie’s mad at you, but that’s just because she feels neglected. I worry about you. Please, let us know that you’re all right.”
Now feeling guilty for taking the easy route, Sheridan hesitated over the reply button. She wasn’t ready to talk to any of her friends, or former lovers, so she opted for the text-messaging feature and sent a group message.
Sheri here. Sorry for being out of commission. Will get back in touch when I’m up to it. Thank you for understanding.
The message felt short and inadequate, but it was the best she could manage at the moment. It was as if she were addressing strangers, or people she had known in a previous life. She felt as if she’d been reborn into another reality, one where she was helpless in ways she’d have thought impossible only a few months ago. If anyone had told her then that she’d have to depend on strangers to perform the most private of functions, Sheridan would have claimed she’d rather die.
Startled, Sheridan pressed the phone to her chest. Would I, really? Would she really rather be dead than struggle like this? Golden-brown eyes under a shock of light brown hair appeared in her mind without warning. Sheridan gasped and the cell phone fell out of her hand. Lark’s features were as clear as if she were there in the room with Sheridan, and she couldn’t possibly think of death, of escape, any longer. God. Lark’s presence, whether in the flesh or as a thought, was clearly enough to chase such dark thoughts away. Is she that annoying, or what do these lingering thoughts mean?
Sheridan hit “send” and let the text message go out to four of the women from Austin she had hooked up with on occasion. She surmised that they would spread the word to the others that had called her cell phone.
Still unable to sleep, Sheridan pushed herself higher against the pillows. She was not entirely comfortable, but she was still reluctant to ring for assistance. She felt raw at the moment, as if the messages had peeled her skin off and left her bare to the world in the harshest of ways. She reached for the laptop that was always available on a special shelf attached to the wall so that she was able to type comfortably.
As soon as she booted the computer, her chat software appeared, with many messages much like her cell phone and, to her surprise, with a request to chat. The short message that went with the application said, “Hi Sheri_star, my online handle is Grey_bird, and I would like to chat if you are interested. I’m facing some challenges and could use the insight of a total stranger, as opposed to the people around me that are pretty rigid in their beliefs. No strings attached. What do you say?”
Stunned, Sheridan tried to figure out whom she might have given her online handle to before she became ill. No face came to mind, and Sheridan decided to delete the contact unseen. But just as she held the cursor above Grey_bird’s avatar, something spiked her curiosity. There was something special in the way the person expressed herself—like a woman would. Changing her mind, Sheridan clicked on the icon to approve Grey_bird’s request. She could always block this person later if she turned out to be a complete idiot or, worse, a stalker.
Sheridan had been surfing the Internet for a few minutes, reading a couple of news articles on CNN, when a blinking banner alerted her.
Grey_bird: Glad you approved me, Sheri_star. Nice to “meet” you.
Sheridan stared at the screen for a few seconds before she moved her hands to the keyboard.
Sheri_star: Hi Grey_bird. How did you find me? Do I know you?
Grey_bird: So many questions!
Sheri_star: Do I?
Grey_bird: Not really.
Sheridan’s heart pounded wildly in her chest as she tried to figure out who this woman was and where they could have met. She wasn’t that generous with her chat-room nickname. And talk about being evasive! Annoyed, but mostly intrigued, Sheridan kept typing.
*
Sheri_star: So you’re going to keep me guessing?
Lark’s mouth was dry and she licked her lips in vain. She hadn’t counted on Sheridan coming online at this point. Thinking of several ways her spontaneous idea might backfire, Lark groaned as she replied.
Grey_bird: That’s the point of this faceless media. We can take things slow. Get to know each other at a nice pace, without any of society’s rules or stamps hanging over us. I like the idea of a clean slate.
Sheri_star: Like a fresh start? Sounds like utopia to me.
Grey_bird: It doesn’t have to be. It could really mean something.
Sheri_star: Like what? Life-altering bliss?
Grey_bird: Not like that. New beginnings, well, don’t we all want them and deserve them?
Sheri_star: Are you for real? Life’s not exactly fair, you know.
Grey_bird: I know that firsthand. I still think things can change for the better. I’ve seen that happen too.
Sheri_star: Really?
Grey_bird: Yes.
Sheri_star: So you claim that miracles can happen?
Grey_bird: Absolutely.
There was a brief pause, and Lark feared that her assertiveness had deterred Sheridan from answering. She was afraid that she had sounded too much like herself, like the Lark that her older sisters used to call “our Pollyanna” with a teasing expression.
Sheri_star: I will remember you said so, if only to prove you wrong one day. IMHO there is no such thing as a miracle. Only fluke and happenstance.
Grey_bird: You’re on!
Sheri_star: On what?
Grey_bird: It was a bet, right?
Sheri_star: I see. Yes. What should we wager then?
Grey_bird: Oh, the possibilities are endless.
Sheri_star: I know. If you can prove that a miracle’s taken place, you can ask me a favor.
Grey_bird: What? Any favor? Are you crazy? You don’t know me!
Sheri_star: But that’s quickly changing, right?
Grey_bird: Eh…yes…
Sheri_star: Then are we on, as you put it?
Lark swallowed repeatedly at the innocent words. Surely they were innocent? Or was Sheridan onto her and suggesting that she knew what was going on and trying to trap her? Or worse, was this the first stirrings of something flirtatious?
Grey_bird: Sure!
Sheri_star: All right. How about another chat session tomorrow some time?
Grey_bird: Look forward to it!
Sheri_star: Me too. See you then.
Sheri_star has left the conversation.
A bit taken aback at the sudden departure, Lark drew a trembling breath. A strange mix of regret and excitement burned just beneath her rib cage, and she closed the laptop. Normally, she dutifully went through the logout procedure, but now she felt as if she needed to physically break off the contact with Sheridan. This is so not like me. Lark barely grazed the idea that her instant, forbidden physical reaction in Sheridan’s presence might have anything to do with her unorthodox measures. She sighed again. If this doesn’t backfire, nothing will.
*
When Sheridan came into the gym the following day, Lark busied herself with a pile of towels. “Morning,” she said over her shoulder, half expecting Sheridan to give her a knowing, contemptuous glance. When this didn’t happen, Lark welcomed the fact that Sheridan looked her regular aloof self. Introverted and distant, she raised an inquisitive eyebrow toward Lark.
“Good morning. We ready to start? I have a ton of work to do today. I’m only here because Mrs. D promised to chain me to the bench if I didn’t volunteer.”
“Now there’s a thought,” Lark teased, eager to keep their conversation light. “We’re going to stretch you out a bit today, but we need to warm up first.”
> “I’m sure ‘we’ do.”
Lark sighed at the sardonic undertone in Sheridan’s voice. “No kidding. This is hard work for me too.”
Sheridan looked doubtful. “I see.”
After a warm-up session that left them both a bit breathless, Lark guided Sheridan onto a large mattress. “Here we go. We’re going to stretch your muscles and tendons, create resistance for you to work against, even if it has to be a passive motion.” Lark continued to educate Sheridan on the importance of their exercises, hoping the matter-of-fact approach would lighten the mood enough for her to accept the necessity of it all.
Pulling and stretching Sheridan’s legs were what took most of Lark’s strength. Every tendon and muscle tended to contract, and she forced them to loosen up, ever mindful not to overdo it. Sheridan moaned under her hands, breaking into a sweat as Lark pulled her leg sideways and up, bending it at the knee.
Lark ended up standing between Sheridan’s wide-spread legs, looking down at her pale face as she gently circled Sheridan’s hip joint, feeling for any tension that might betray spasticity. The intimacy of the position had never bothered her before, but now, while watching the gasping Sheridan, Lark had to hold back an unprofessional moan and she shivered inside. She clung to Sheridan’s leg, trying hard to refocus on her job.
“Lark!” Mrs. D poked her head into the gym where Lark had just helped Sheridan back into the wheelchair. “You have a phone call.”
“I’m pretty busy. Can you take a message, please?” Lark, just as sweaty as Sheridan was after the exhausting session, pushed her damp bangs out of her eyes.
“I’ve already asked if I could, but it’s your father and it seems urgent.”
“Daddy?” Lark quickly made sure Sheridan was comfortable before she accepted the phone. “Daddy? What’s wrong?” Out of the corner of her eye, Lark noticed Sheridan wheeling toward the showers, followed by Mrs. D.
“Hi, sweetheart. Don’t worry now, but it’s Fiona.”
Lark closed her eyes. Fiona was two years younger than she, and Lark was very close to her. “What is it this time?”
“We’ve just come home from the hospital. She’s had another episode, but she’s doing better now.”
“The hospital? Why didn’t y’all call me?”
“She wouldn’t let us, sweetie.”
It hurt to swallow, and Lark sat down on a bench by the wall, her knees suddenly weak. “Why did you have to go to the hospital?”
“The anxiety hit her bad this time, Lark. She couldn’t breathe properly, even after she took her medication. You know what it was like for her the first couple of years.”
Lark knew only too well, having shared a room with Fiona after they moved to Boerne. “I know.”
“Well, we’ve been happy that she’s done so well the last year. Our guard was down, and when she panicked, your mother and I panicked right with her.”
“And?”
“And when she turned blue around her lips and earlobes, we called the paramedics, just like you told us to. Your mother had to go to bed when we came home. It scared all three of us.”
“I bet it did. Well, I’ll just let my employer know, and then I’m coming home.”
“No, no. That’s not why I called, Lark. You don’t have to stop what you’re doing.”
Lark frowned and reached for a towel to wrap around her neck. The drying perspiration was cooling her skin and making her shiver. “Why did you call, then?”
“Your mother insisted that we tell you. But Fiona doesn’t want you to jeopardize your new job.”
“What if they need me? Mom especially. She counts on me being there for Fiona.”
“Your mother is stronger than you realize. I know she’s relied a lot on you over the years, sweetie, but trust me, she’s capable of handling this.”
“Does she know that?” Lark tried to not be sarcastic, but she’d lived through several years when her mother clung to her, needing reassurance and sympathy at every turn. Her mother wasn’t weak by any means, but fear could sometimes make her act like a frightened child.
“Listen, sweetie. She’s come a long way too.”
Lark wasn’t so sure, but then again, before she came home to Texas two months ago it had been a long time since she’d lived with her parents. The room that she’d shared with Fiona still remained the same girly haven as it had been ten years ago, but now Fiona resided there alone. “All right, so you called me like you promised Mom. You know me, Daddy. I’m not going to be able to relax until I see Fiona for myself. Or Mom.”
“I know, Lark. I tried telling your mother exactly that. Fiona was upset when she heard your mom insisted I call you because she knew you’d feel left out and worried.”
“She’s right. I do.” Lark closed her eyes again and pinched the bridge of her nose to prevent the stupid tears that burned at the corners of her eyelids. “Tell you what. I’ll finish early today and come home.”
“Lark…” Arthur’s voice sounded tired, but not unkind. “All right. Come for dinner tomorrow evening. It might actually be a good thing. If your mother can home in on you, it’ll take the pressure off of Fiona.”
“Yes, and if I bring up my pet peeve, that’ll really liven up the get-together.” Lark pursed her lips. “Mom doesn’t like it when I talk about Fiona being on her own.”
“Please. Just come and we’ll take it from there. Your mother needs you. You’ve been her anchor for so long.”
“You’re that person these days, Daddy. But all right, I’ll be home for a few hours tomorrow.”
Lark said good-bye to Arthur and held onto the phone with both hands after she pressed the disconnect button. Fiona was so fragile and insecure, but also the most beautiful and talented woman Lark had ever met. What a waste. She needs to find herself a place of her own. Lark knew this could be done, with the proper planning.
“Lark? Everything okay?” Sheridan wheeled toward her from the showers, her hair glistening almost black where she’d combed it back from her face.
“Yes. Thanks for asking. I have to go home to Boerne for a few hours tomorrow evening.”
Sheridan frowned. “You look pale. Something the matter at home?”
“My sister’s been a bit under the weather. I need to check on her. We’re getting together for dinner. This is the first time I’ve worked this close to my hometown in quite a while. I imagine my parents are just figuring out that I can pop in without too much hassle.”
“I thought your hometown was Houston.” Sheridan tugged the towel around her neck tighter.
“It was, but none of us liked it much. We moved to Boerne when I was fifteen. We love it there.”
“Boerne is picturesque, and if I didn’t live here, I wouldn’t mind having a house there, although Lake Travis is my escape.” Sheridan smiled faintly. “Guess we all need a space to call our own. Where do you go when you need time out?”
Taken aback by the question, Lark gazed down at the phone in her hands. “I…I don’t suppose I have a place where I can be alone, unless I’m off to a park, or go for a drive.” She tried to figure out when she’d had time to be alone. After her last assignment, she’d made herself useful at the store in Boerne. She’d never gone on her long overdue vacation to the Florida Keys. The days simply seemed to rush by with no brakes. “You’re right, of course. We all need a refuge. Lake Travis sounds great. It’s beautiful there.”
Sheridan looked at her with a puzzled expression. “I’ll have to show you the summer house one day.” Silence filled the space between them, then Sheridan stroked her palms against her sweatpants. “I better go and get ready. See you tonight.” She didn’t wait for a reply but wheeled out of the room.
Lark, still hugging the phone to her chest, stared after her, trying to read something, anything, into Sheridan’s abrupt words. It was impossible.
Chapter Nine
Sheridan placed the binder on her lap and rolled toward the desk. The office block was almost deserted save for the duty nurse
and the ever-present guards. In the labs on the floors below her, the night shift was already working, and she could barely sense the faint hum of their equipment through the thick-carpeted floor.
It had been a long day, longer than she had originally planned. Sheridan had taken advantage of the unexpected break in her physical therapy schedule and pushed on with work that had accumulated during her absence. She couldn’t catch up, and at times she figured Dimitri’s misgivings were not entirely unfounded. To push herself this way and to work normal ten- to twelve-hour workdays had taken a toll on her lately. It hadn’t always been this hard. In her position, an eighty-hour work week was what it took to remain on top and in power. Sheridan knew she had to regain that energy level again soon if she was to take back full, hands-on control of her empire.
Sheridan reached out to flip the off switch, but stopped her hand in midair. Curiosity and a slight feeling of dread coursed through her. She placed the binder on her desk and maneuvered her wheelchair into place. Logging on to her private account, she started the chat software, but to her dismay, or was it relief, Grey_bird’s icon wasn’t highlighted. Several of her other contacts were online, but Sheridan made sure she was invisible to them. She didn’t want to talk to anyone really, but she still felt empty when she opened her Web browser and her favorites folder.
