By the time she got back, Nick was on his feet.
"Listen-I can walk. Let's not make a big deal out of this," he said,
feeling embarrassed.
"Are you sure?"
"Yeah, I'm sure." He looked at Cyndra. "Tell em I won't be back
tonight. Not that they give a shit."
"Like I'll be talking to them when I get home," she said
sarcastically.
Back at her house Lauren led Nick straight up to her room. "How are
you feeling?" she asked anxiously.
"Like a jerk. Your boyfriend took me by surprise. We should've taken
it outside and I could've given as good as I got."
"Ex-boyfriend," she said matter-of-factly, pulling down the cover on
her bed. "You'll sleep here."
He managed a weak grin. "With you?"
She smiled back. "Let's get SerIous.
He sat down on the bed. "Okay, okay. Just asking."
She soaked a washcloth and gently cleaned the blood off his face.
"Ouch!"
"Don't be a baby."
When she was finished he said, "Now what? Am I gonna roll between the
sheets with all my clothes on?"
"I'll take care of everything," she assured him.
He grinned again. "Including undressing me?"
She shook her head, smiling. "One of these days . . . maybe. But
right now you can do it yourself. You should get some sleep, we'll
talk in the morning."
"Your dress is messed up. Hadn't you better change before your parents
see it?"
He was right, her new black dress was stained with dark patches of
blood. "I hated this dress anyway," she said wryly. "Let's call it my
farewell present from the Brownings."
"Hey, Lauren," he said, reaching for her hand. "It was worth it."
"Say that in the morning when you look in the mIrror.
By the time her parents arrived home she'd made up a bed for herself on
the couch, changed into her robe and was waiting to greet them.
As they came through the front door she heard her father's angry
voice.
"Don't threaten me, Jane. Don't ever threaten me."
"I'm not threatening you," Jane replied in a strained voice. "But I
can tell you this-" She spotted her daughter and abruptly stopped.
"Lauren, what are you doing home so early?"
This was a new one. Home so early? It was one o'clock in the
morning.
"Uh. . . somebody got hurt at the dance."
"Not you?" Phil said quickly.
"No, I'm fine," she replied.
"Who then?" Jane asked.
"It. . . it's, uh, Nick Angelo. Remember? He was in the school play
with me."
"What happened to him?" Jane asked, totally uninterested.
"He was in a fight. He didn't start the fight, but he got a broken
nose and there was no way he could get home tonight what with the snow
and everything, so I brought him here." She knew she was speaking too
fast, but she couldn't stop. "Actually, he's asleep in my bed. It's
all perfectly respectable, Mother. I'm sleeping on the couch."
Her father looked furious. "That boy is here-in your bed?"
"Yes, Daddy," she said patiently. "But I'm not. I'm downstairs with
you. Right?"
Phil and Jane exchanged horrified glances.
"I do wish you hadn't done this without asking us," Jane fretted. "I
don't like strangers sleeping over. Who is he anyway?"
"I told you, Mother. Nick Angelo. He was Brick in the play."
"Oh, him. Strange-looking boy," Jane said. "Somebody told me he lives
over in the trailer park. Is that true?"
"Does it make any difference?" Lauren challenged.
Jane frowned; her daughter could be very stubborn, and she could see
that this was one of those times. "Well, if you wish to sleep on the
couch, I suppose there's nothing we can do about it. We'll see you in
the morning."
Lauren gave them half an hour. She waited until they'd both used the
bathroom and she heard their bedroom door close. After that there was
the faint murmur of conversation, and eventually silence.
When the house was absolutely quiet she crept upstairs and looked in at
Nick. He lay on his back, arms outstretched, eyes closed.
She stared down at him for a long moment.
Nick Angelo, you've changed my life. And I am so very very grateful!
In the morning Lauren was up at six. She'd decided it was better to
get Nick out of the house before he had to face her parents. If she
moved quickly and quietly she could borrow the family station wagon and
drive him over to the hospital in Ripley before they were awake.
She'd hardly slept at all. Everything was changing and so was she.
She knew she had to be strong, ready to stand up to all the opposition
she was bound to face. For so many years she'd been good little
Lauren, hardworking little Lauren. Now she'd be labeled naughty little
Lauren because she didn't wish to remain engaged to the richest boy in
town.
Too bad. She could deal with it. The problem was, could they?
Upstairs in her room Nick sat on the side of her bed clad in his ruined
tux. She entered the room, put a finger to her lips and whispered,
"Shhh . . . We're leaving."
He nodded, relieved to be getting out of there.
She hurried into her closet and pulled on jeans, sweatshirt and a heavy
duffle coat. "Follow me," she whispered, and they crept downstairs.
In the kitchen she scribbled a note explaining why she'd taken the car
and taped it to the refrigerator door.
Within minutes they were outside. "Whew!" she sighed, unlocking the
car. "It's not easy acting like a criminal."
"I'll drive," he said.
"No," she replied firmly. "Not this time."
"Did you get any sleep?" he asked, getting into the passenger side
without a fight.
"No. Did you?"
Ruefully he touched his swollen nose. "What do you think?"
She eased the car away from the curb. It had stopped snowing, but the
roads were wet and slushy.
"I think we're both insane!" she exclaimed, perfectly happy.
"And you like it."
"I love it!" she replied recklessly. "I feel free for the first time
in ages.
He looked at her intently. "Yeah?"
"Oh, yes. Stock was like a big dark cloud hovering over me."
"So why did you stay with him?"
"It seemed the easiest thing to do."
"Easy ain't always easy," he remarked sagely.
She sneaked a quick glance at him. "You look awful."
"Thanks!"
"How do you feel?"
"Like a tractor ran over my face. Apart from that-great."
"The doctor'll fix your nose.
"What doctor?"
"We're driving to Ripley."
"We are?"
"I owe you a new nose. It was my fault you got hit."
"Hey, any time-if it means sleeping in your bed." He grinned.
"Loved the Snoopy sheets!"
"Don't make fun of me. My mother never throws anything out."
His nose continued to throb and he was in serious pain. So why did he
feel like singing? After all, Lauren was only another girl. Yeahonly
the most beautiful girl in the world!
He studied her perfect profile. "What're your parents gonna say abo
ut
everything?"
She grimaced. "I'll let you know."
He reached for the radio, tuning it to a rock station. If only they
could stay in the car and keep on going. Was it too much to ask her to
give up everything and run away with him?
They made it to Ripley in an hour and a half and drove straight to the
emergency room. New Year's Eve had taken its toll-the place was
crowded with survivors of various battles. There were bloody knife
wounds, a shooting or two, a couple of beaten women and a large black
man screaming obscenities. Lauren clung to his arm as they took a
seat.
"Hey, take it easy," he said, feeling somewhat queasy himself.
They waited nearly five hours before getting any attention, and then a
harassed young doctor rushed Nick into an examining room and confirmed
that yes, his nose was indeed broken. He set it and covered it with
bandages.
"I feel like I was in a war," Nick joked as they left the hospital.
Deep down he was wondering what he'd look like when the bandages came
off. Hell, he'd always been happy with his appearance. Now what?
Another stroke against him?
"Don't worry," Lauren said, reading his mind. "You'll look fine."
Outside the snow had started up again with a vengeance. "Big cities,"
she said, shivering. "They frighten me.
He laughed. "This ain't no big city. This is Disneyland compared with
New York or Chicago." He slapped his hands together. "Jeer!
I'm freezing!"
"So am I. And starving!"
"Me too."
She glanced at her watch. "It's nearly three. My parents will murder
me! We'd better start back."
"Not until we get something to eat."
Her parents were going to kill her anyway, what difference did another
half hour make? "Okay," she said, wondering if she should phone
them.
No, she decided; save the big confrontation for later.
They left the station wagon in the hospital parking lot and ran,
slipping and sliding on the wet sidewalk, to a nearby hamburger
joint.
A waitress approached their table. She had a cigarette hanging from
the corner of her mouth and a jaded expression. "Yeah? What'll it
be?"
"Double burger with everything on, a Coke and fries," Lauren ordered
breathlessly. "Twice." She smiled at Nick. "Okay?"
He had twenty dollars in his pocket. "I'm buyin'," he said.
"No. I am," she insisted. "It's my fault we're here."
"Can't let you do that."
"Yes, you can."
"Two burgers or what?" The waitress was bored, she couldn't care less
who was paying as long as the check got settled. Lauren nodded, and
the waitress left.
Nick leaned across the table and kissed her "What's that for?" she
asked, wide-eyed.
"Uh I guess for bein' you."
She smiled. He decided she had the most beautiful smile in the
world.
"Hey," he blurted, unable to stop himself. "I think I .
"Yes?" she asked eagerly.
"Aw-forget it."
Her eyes shone brightly, urging him to continue. "What?"
"Uh, like, I think. . . uh . . . y'know-like, I think I love you."
"Me too," she whispered softly, feeling as if she was going to melt
with happiness. "Me too." t first Jane Roberts was pleased when she
awoke and found that Lauren had left with Nick Angelo; she hadn't
relished dealing with a stranger in the morning. Besides, she had
other things on her mind, there was no time to worry about her stubborn
daughter right now.
She frowned when she reached the kitchen and discovered Lauren's
note.
Phil was not going to be pleased to find that Lauren had taken the car
without his permission, it was so unlike her.
She reread her daughter's note.
BORROWED CAR.
BACK SOON.
LOVE, LAUREN When Phil came downstairs he was furious. "We give that
girl too much freedom," he grumbled. "How dare she presume she can
drive out of here in my car.
"What Stock say?" Jane fretted. "I hope she's back in time for the
New Year's lunch with the Brownings, we're expected there at one.
"She'll be back," Phil said gruffly. "She's probably taken that boy
home."
"I wonder who he was in a fight with."
"Who knows? Who cares?" replied Phil, opening the kitchen cabinet and
reaching for a box of cornflakes. "Whoever it was, he was probably
bigger. Lauren always protects the underdog."
"Yes," Jane said. "But it wasn't very nice of Stock to leave her
alone."
Phil tipped the cornflakes into a dish and added milk. "We have to
talk about us, Jane," he said.
Her face reddened. "We talked last night."
"Not enough."
"It was enough for me," she replied, her lips tightening into a thin
line.
The phone interrupted what was about to be another fight. Phil picked
up. "Yes?"
"Sorry, Mr. Roberts, did I wake you?"
"No," he said tersely.
"It's Meg. Can I speak to Lauren?"
"She went out early."
"Where did she go?"
He ignored her question. "She'll call you when she gets back."
"Uh . thank you, Mr. Roberts."
Shortly before noon Jane Roberts sat at her dressing table, adding a
touch of powder here, a dab of rouge there. She had a new cinnamon
outfit with matching pumps. She'd decided to wear her fur coat. It
was five years old, but perhaps when Lauren married into the Browning
family and Phil's business started improving he would be able to buy
her a new one.
Phil walked into the room and stood behind her, tapping impatiently on
his watch. "She's not back."
"Oh, dear," Jane said. "How can she do this to us?"
"It's snowing again." Phil moved over to the window and stared out.
"I hope she hasn't had an accident."
"Lauren's an excellent driver."
"I don't understand where "I know," Phil said, pacing up and down.
she can be."
"Nor do I," said Jane, more than slightly irritated that her daughter
would choose today to mess things up.
The phone rang. "That'll be her," Phil said, grabbing the receiver.
It was not Lauren, it was Daphne Browning. "Phil," she said in her
imperious voice, "let me speak to Jane."
"Certainly, Daphne." He covered the mouthpiece with his hand.
"She wants to talk to you. Don't mention Lauren."
Jane rushed to pick up. "Happy New Year, Daphne," she gushed.
"You left the Lawsons' party awfully early last night, but it was fun,
wasn't it?"
Daphne was not into pleasantries. "I simply cannot believe your
daughter's behavior," she said flatly.
Jane was startled. "I beg your pardon?"
"Lauren's behavior," Daphne repeated, as if she was talking to an
extremely backward child.
"What happened?"
"Surely you know?"
Jane took a stab in the dark. "About the fight?"
"Disgusting!" Daphne exclaimed. "You might think Lauren would have
the decency to stay with her fiance' rather than go running off with
Jane took a deep breath, she had known Lauren's engagement to Stock was
too good to be true. "Are you still expecting us for lunch?" she said
tentatively, knowing the answer before she asked.
"I don't believe there's any point, do you?" Daphne replied. A long
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