“Of course. And the baby?”
“I’m sorry, sir—”
He cut her off. “You’re not allowed to disclose. Yes. Been there, done that.”
“I’m sorry. I wish I could do more.”
Mark sighed. He understood it wasn’t really the nurses’ fault. With the medical privacy laws it would be too easy to lose their jobs for sharing personal patient information, but that didn’t mean he had to like it. “I know. Thanks.”
A cluster of people seemed to be making their way up the hall from the gate area. “Excuse me.” He approached a tall gangly man in a gray suit. “Where are you coming from?”
“New York,” the man grumbled without stopping.
“Thanks.” He waved to the man’s back just as his cell phone rang. “Hello,” he answered, scanning the distance for the woman he’d only met twice in twelve years.
“I just heard. I’m so sorry. Can I do anything?” Mark’s sister Rachel asked, her pain for her brother carrying through the phone line.
“Got any clout at San Francisco Memorial? I can’t get any information out of them.”
“Don’t you have Tom’s power of attorney?”
“That was temporary for the business while he and Barb were out of the country. It wouldn’t have done me a damn bit of good as far as Barb is concerned.”
“You mean they don’t have anything official for a situation like this?”
“Not that I know of. I’m waiting for one of Barb’s college buddies.”
“You mean the four musketeers?”
“Yeah, I’m hoping she might know more. If not I’ll have no choice but to go through my lawyer.”
“I don’t get it,” his sister sighed, “Tom and Barb are smart people. How could they not have made provisions for Marcia in case anything like this happened?”
“Because healthy happy people in their thirties aren’t supposed to die!” He hadn’t meant to shout at his sister, but he’d had all he could take. Tom had been his best friend since third grade. They’d been through everything together from the chicken pox to the birth of the child Tom and Barb had waited ten long years to have. Of all the times to let his friend down, he didn’t want this to be one of them. “I’m sorry.”
“No, you’re right. I’m sorry. I know how hard this must be for you. I wish I could be there.”
“I know, Sis. Look, I think I see Anna.” The few brief times he’d met her, two things had stuck in his mind, eyes the color of scotch whiskey and a dazzling smile. He doubted there’d be much chance of seeing that smile again any time soon. “If I need anything I’ll call, but I have to go now.”
“You promise?”
“Promise.”
Anna popped another couple of antacids into her mouth, pulled out her phone to check in with Liz and walked reading the overhead signs, looking for the rental cars.
“Excuse me, Anna?”
Her heart jumped to her throat when a man’s hand touched her sleeve.
“It’s Mark.” He seemed to be waiting for her to say something. With her heart still pounding like Bambi’s Thumper, she merely nodded. “I called your office to update you and your assistant said you’d be on this flight. We agreed it would be easier if I picked you up.”
“Thanks, but I’m gonna need a car to come back for Kat.”
“We can work that out later. There are a few problems and I thought it best if we talked on the way to the hospital.”
Anna stopped short. “What?”
Having taken another step before realizing she’d stopped, Mark turned around to face her. She could see the pain take over his face.
“Tom didn’t make it,” he said softly.
Anna felt her knees melt beneath her, followed by the strength of Mark’s arm looping around her waist, holding her up next to him.
“Maybe we should sit a minute.” His voice was low and caring, and incredibly gentle for a man who seemed to tower over her.
“No. No. I’m okay.” She took a deep breath. “What about Babs and the baby?”
He curled his hand around her elbow and gently guided her toward the parking garage. “I just got word that Barb is out of surgery and in ICU, but they won’t tell me anything about the baby.”
“What do you mean they won’t tell you?” She dug her heels into the carpet again.
“She’s okay. At least I think she is.” He nudged her to keep walking. “After I got off the phone with you I drove straight over to Barb and Tom’s. The housekeeper had just gotten there. Told me Barb had left a note that she was driving Tom to the office.”
“Why?”
“I didn’t ask. But I’m sure Barb wouldn’t mind if you use Tom’s car while you’re in town.”
She nodded, not sure if she liked that idea, but certain she didn’t want to argue. She wanted to know what happened.
“I followed the route they should have taken to work and came across the accident scene.” He stopped to fish his keys out of his pocket and helped her into the passenger side of the car. “It’s a miracle they weren’t all killed.”
Closing her door, he moved quickly around the car and slid into the driver’s seat. Grabbing the wheel, his knuckles white, he let out a long slow breath, then released the tight grip and turned the ignition.
“Then what?” she asked softly.
“I had a hard time getting close. They had the area completely taped off. That’s when I realized there’d been a fatality. There was no other reason for the road not to have been cleared up and made ready for rush hour traffic. With all the cars scattered around, I didn’t know for sure who had died. Then I recognized what was left of Barb’s car.”
“Oh God.” Squeezing her eyes shut, Anna tried to push away the thought of Babs nearly crushed to death.
“I was pretty agitated explaining for the third time in ten minutes that the crumpled car belonged to my business partner and my goddaughter had probably been inside, when an older cop waved the others away and took me aside. That’s how I finally found out Tom was dead at the scene. They estimate the SUV was doing close to ninety when it struck them. The cop assured me Tom probably didn’t know what hit him.”
“How the hell does anyone drive down a city street at ninety miles an hour!”
“You don’t. Unless you’re drunk,” he added through gritted teeth.
“At seven o’clock in the morning?” Stunned that anyone would be so drunk so early in the morning, Anna resisted the urge to scream.
Mark nodded. His jaw still clenched tight, a single muscle twitched with irritation.
“Damn. What about Marcia?” Her eyes remained fixed on Mark. She could see the morning play out on his face. Felt the pain of every step as though she’d walked the scene herself.
He pulled the car onto the northbound highway. “All the officer would say is that Barb had been flown to San Francisco Memorial and the baby had been taken by ambulance, but to him she appeared to be perfectly fine.”
“Then what’s the problem?”
“No one will confirm if she’s at the hospital or not. I can’t get anyone to tell me anything at all about Marcia. I’m not family and don’t have medical power of attorney. I’m damn lucky someone was at least willing to confirm Barb was at the hospital and in surgery.”
“I see.” Anna leaned back against the seat and watched the road ahead.
“I don’t suppose one of you has—”
“No. Not exactly.”
“What do you mean not exactly?” He stole a glance in Anna’s direction.
“Let’s just say I know what to do, but it’s not written down on any paper.”
Mark blew out a deep sigh. “I haven’t been able to get my lawyer on the phone. He’s at some conference and apparently nowhere near a cell tower.”
“We probably won’t need him. At least not yet.” She looked out over the bay. From their dorm rooms at night it had always looked like a dreamland. I’m here Babs. Let ‘em try and stop me.
Not
another word had been said during the rest of the short drive to the hospital. Mark thought Anna had fallen asleep. With her eyes closed, she looked incredibly peaceful, but he knew the fear churning inside her. He wasn’t sure what she meant by she knew what to do, and a small part of him didn’t want to know. He’d heard enough stories about the escapades of the four musketeers to know whatever she might have in mind, pleading ignorance would be his only plausible defense. “We’re here.”
By the time he’d parked the car she’d undone her seatbelt and was halfway out the door. For a moment he wondered if she was going to simply drop and roll from the moving vehicle. From the stories he’d heard, he wouldn’t have put it past her. “ICU is on the sixth floor.”
“We’ll go straight there. What exactly did you tell them about her family?”
“That she had none.” Mark was surprised he didn’t have to shorten his stride for her. She was moving so quickly, he almost had to step up his pace.
“Those exact words?”
“I think. Why?”
“Just wondering.”
The ride up was made in total silence except for the rhythmic tapping of Anna’s shoe. The steady impatient beat only served to remind him of his day, hurry up and wait.
Like a thoroughbred at the starting gate, Anna flew out the doors and raced down the hall. He actually had to rush to keep up, and even then he was still a few steps behind her. She marched through the double doors of ICU as if she were Patton invading enemy territory.
To look at her, he wouldn’t have expected it. Her attire was pretty snazzy. Most likely designer. Though he wouldn’t know a Chanel from a, well, a whatever, she looked worthy of the cover of any stylish magazine.
She wasn’t what he’d call petite, he’d guess about five foot seven, but she was still considerably smaller than his six three frame. Thick dark hair cut just above her shoulders swished gracefully, keeping rhythm with the sway of her hips. Nice broad hips. Tiny waist. Long legs on skinny high heels that gave the impression her legs went on forever and dragged a man’s mind to heavenly places.
“Barbara Preston,” Anna’s voice snapped him back to reality. This was not the time to take inventory of an attractive woman. Especially not this one.
“I’m sorry, ma’am. Only family is allowed in ICU.” A short rather stocky nurse with gray hair smiled politely before turning back to the open binders of case files on her side of the counter.
“Yes. I know. Which room is she in?”
The woman looked up again, clearly surprised. She briefly glanced at Mark before meeting Anna’s steely gaze. “I was under the impression she has no next of kin.”
“Her husband was the only family she had in California. He died in the same crash. I just got off a plane from New York. Which room?”
“And you sir?” This time she settled her gaze on Mark.
“He’s with me. Which way?” Anna spoke up before he could stick his foot in his mouth. His initial impression of General Patton hadn’t been far off the mark. Not giving the nurse time to consider her options, Anna backed away from the counter and began moving toward the curtained off areas.
“She’s in room three. To the left,” the woman said to Anna’s back.
Catching up with her by Barbara’s room, Mark got to the door just in time to grab Anna’s arm and steady her.
She brought her hand to her mouth and leaned against him. “Oh God.”
The swishing sound of rubber shoes on linoleum slowed behind them.
“I think she may need a glass of water,” Mark told the nurse who had followed them and was now intently monitoring Anna’s actions.
Anna pulled away from Mark and inched her way closer to the bed. What could be seen of Babs’ face didn’t look human. Blues, purples, and reds meshed together on swollen and scratched patches of flesh, peeking out from around layers of gauze and bandages.
“I got here as fast as I could,” Anna announced quietly to her friend, her voice trembling, her eyes scanning the tiny space crammed with a multitude of machinery feeding tubes and wires into her friend’s body. Grabbing hold of the railing beside the bed, her shoulders rose and fell with several deep breaths. “Is she going to be okay?”
“She’s stable, but you’ll have to speak to Dr. Thompson for more information.”
Anna didn’t look up. “What about the baby? Is she hurt this badly too?”
“No. Not a scratch on her,” the nurse reported. “They’re keeping her overnight for observation. The hospital social worker has been notified. We were under the impression she had no family.” She turned to Mark, and softly said. “I’ll get her that glass of water. I’m sorry. We didn’t realize Mrs. Preston had a sister.”
“I want to see the baby.” Stretching her hand forth Anna brushed the few tresses of limp red curls, leaning over the bed as close to Babs as she could get. “I’ll be back, I promise, but I need to make sure about Marcia.”
“Pediatrics is on the third floor.” The nurse stepped aside, sympathy gleaming in her eyes. As Anna walked passed, the older woman patted her arm. “Dr. Thompson is the best.”
“Thank you.”
In the elevator Anna watched the numbers dropping. A single tear leaked from the corner of her eye. “She’s not going to make it, is she?”
“We don’t know that. Barb’s strong, a fighter. She won’t leave Marcia without a mother.” Mark placed his hand gently on her shoulder.
“From your mouth to God’s ears,” she muttered as the doors opened. Two minutes later she was standing at the pediatrics’ nursing station. “I’m Marcia Preston’s Aunt Anna. I want to see her and talk to a doctor.”
The perky young nurse began tapping on the keyboard. Every few seconds she’d sneak a glance in Mark’s direction. Anna couldn’t blame the woman. Babs often reminded them that after God made her husband Tom, He broke the mold. Then she’d laugh and say, well, maybe He used it again for Mark.
“Here we are, baby Preston. She’s in room 327.” A heavy crease formed between her brow. “It says here her only relative is in ICU. The social worker’s already contacted CPS.”
“I flew in from New York as soon as I was notified. Which way is room 327?”
“Straight ahead, on your right. But you’ll have to straighten this out with Social Services before she can be released.”
“Thank you.”
“How do you do that?” Mark leaned in and whispered.
“Do what?”
“Convince everyone you’re family without actually lying.”
“We may not be the legal description of family, but where it matters, we are family and no stranger is going to take care of my goddaughter.”
“That’s why I’ve been calling my lawyer all day.”
“Social Services may not be as easy to snow as the nursing staff. I’ll call Harrison.” Anna turned the corner into the small room, inches behind Mark.
Marcia was curled around a small brown teddy bear, sucking her thumb, blankly staring at the bunnies painted on the foot of the crib. Anna hadn’t seen the little girl since the christening eight months ago. “She’s so beautiful.”
“Isn’t she?” Mark’s grin was so bright anyone would have thought he was the proud papa. “If she had Babs’ red hair, she’d look exactly like her mom.”
At the sound of Mark’s voice, the little girl had pulled herself up and was now standing by the railing, the bear forgotten, a single toothed smile joyously directed at him.
“Hey, precious.” He pulled her up and into his arms. “You have no idea how happy I am to see you.”
Anna watched as the little girl fisted her hand around his shirt and snuggled her little head into the crook of his neck. The poor thing must have been scared silly, trapped in the mangled car, then probably manhandled by firemen, doctors and nurses only to be left alone in a strange place for hours.
Sidling up next to Mark, Anna smiled at her goddaughter and reached out to brush back the fine silken dark hair that toppe
d her pretty little head. She hadn’t expected Marcia to recoil, tightening her grip on her godfather’s shirt, nor was she prepared for the pained grimace that took over the little girl’s face. Before Anna could respond, the baby’s ear piercing screams filled the room followed by a steady stream of tears.
With surprising agility, Anna sprang back several feet. The painful knots in her stomach twisted a little tighter.
“It’s okay, sweetie. This is your Aunt Anna,” Mark’s voice cooed, comforting the child. Burrowed in his shoulder, Marcia’s cries slowly eased to a quiet whimper.
Anna looked up at him. “You’re good at this.”
“She’s a little scared, I think. Normally she’s a very friendly baby. Takes after her mom. You want to try and hold her?”
“No.” Anna took another step back. “I don’t want to upset her again.” If what they said about kids and dogs was true, Marcia probably already knew her Aunt Anna didn’t have a clue what to do with a baby, goddaughter or not. “Besides, she seems perfectly content with you.”
“She knows me.”
“You get to spend a lot of time with the family?”
“Tom’s my partner. Every time Barb comes to help out at the office, she brings Marcia. The whole staff goes nuts over her.”
“It’s so nice how this younger generation of men is so good with babies.” A dark-headed woman with an inch of gray roots scurried into the room. She beamed at Mark. “In my day, men didn’t know which end was up. You must be the daddy.”
His face flushed a pleasant shade of rose. “Uh...no. I’m her Uncle Mark.”
“It’s obvious she’s taken with you just the same. We were hoping someone would come along. There simply isn’t enough time in the day to coddle the lonely ones the way we’d like. Took long enough to calm her down when they first brought her in. But she seems fit as a fiddle now.”
Marcia bristled as the woman moved closer and Mark began gently patting her back.
“When can we take her home?” he asked.
“You’ll have to talk to the doctor.” The nurse placed a handheld gadget in Marcia’s ear, waited for the beep, then stepped back, reading the numbers. “Yup, fit as a fiddle.”
The Champagne Sisterhood Page 3
