By Appointment Only (30 page)

Hannah lifted a shoulder. “I’m fine.” She looked past her mother to the man who was supposed to be her biological dad.

His ordinary face was placid, pleasant. Not memorable at all. The kind of guy no one would ever pick out of a crowd. He answered her unspoken question. “Morgan called us. He thought we would want to know.”

“And we did,” Vivian said dramatically, her eyes shimmering with theatrical tears. “Hannah, you could have died.”

“Well, I didn’t,” Hannah said dryly. Her fiancé had a lot to answer for.

Vivian held out her hands and for the first time, Hannah realized that the slight, ditzy woman was holding a narrow glass bowl. Filled with water. Vivian smiled hesitantly. “We brought you a goldfish. You know. On account of that time that—”

“I remember.” Hannah interrupted her bluntly, not sure how to categorize the emotions she was feeling at the moment. Imminent, hysterical laughter headed the list.

She took the bowl of water and gazed down at the brilliant orange fish. And suddenly her bottom lip was quivering and her eyes were wet again. She had to clear her throat before she could speak. “Thanks.”

She handed the gift back to Vivian. “Why don’t you put it on the windowsill for me.”

Vivian seemed disappointed. Maybe she expected Hannah to hold it all night and play with it.

Raymond put his hand on Vivian’s arm and steered her into the chair beside the bed. Then he stuffed his own hands in his pockets and looked at Hannah, his expression determined. “I’m gonna get one of those DNA tests. I’ll pay for it. If you’re my girl, I want to know.”

Vivian glared at him. “I wouldn’t lie about something like that, Raymond.”

He patted her head. “No offense, my dear. But you were high a lot of the time back then. I’d prefer not to take chances.”

Vivian subsided in her seat, resignation marking her expression. She looked up at the man by her side. “So . . . are you going to tell her or do you want me to?”

Hannah wanted more drugs. Desperately. And where the heck was Morgan? How long did it take to eat a hamburger? “Tell me what?”

Vivian’s face brightened and for a split second she looked like a young girl. “Raymond and I are getting married. But not yet,” she said hastily. “We won’t rush it this time. We’ll take things slow and easy. But there’s a spark,” she said coyly.

Raymond refused to be baited. He remained sober as he looked at Hannah and spoke. “We want to be here for you and our grandchildren.”

The lump in Hannah’s throat grew. “I’m not even married yet,” she said, trying for humor. Though she had never felt less like laughing.

Raymond nodded. “You will be. We saw how your big fella looks at you. And he’s a good man.”

Hannah nodded. “Yes, he is,” she said softly.

They left soon after. Hannah barely had time to process her feelings about their visit before the door opened yet again and
Morgan’s
parents walked into the room. Sheesh. Was she paying for all of her sins at once?

Her shoulders tightened, and she wanted to pull the covers over her head. Even drugged, she had a fairly clear memory of standing in this couple’s lovely living room and blasting them.

Morgan’s mom carried a potted begonia and a cookie tin. “We brought you some peanut butter fudge,” she said brightly, not quite meeting Hannah’s eyes. “For when you’re feeling better.”

Neither of the Webbers sat down, and Hannah felt at a distinct disadvantage. She bit her lower lip. “I probably should apologize,” she muttered.

Morgan’s dad frowned. “Not at all. Although it pains me to admit it, you were right on several counts. We’ve each been petty and mean, and yesterday after you left, we both agreed that we need to see a counselor . . . at least for a while. To get our marriage back on track. As you so emphatically pointed out, forty years is a long time.”

Hannah was saved from having to find a diplomatic response when her handsome fiancé reappeared. He stopped short in the doorway, his expression guarded, and then he came in and hugged his parents.

The tension in the room dissipated a bit when he spotted the fish and started to laugh. “Good grief. Who brought you that?”

Hannah gave him a stern look. “My mother.”

He didn’t even have the grace to look abashed. “So they came by, then. I thought they would.”

“You could have warned me,” she said glumly. “I’m not sure I had enough Demerol in my IV.”

He perched on the edge of her bed and grinned at his folks. “Hannah’s mom is a bit of an original.”

Hannah snorted. “That’s an understatement.” She looked at Morgan’s refined, well-dressed, dignified parents and realized with sudden insight that even their conventional appearance might hide some of the same quirks other people had. But Stan and Elaina were simply a bit less likely to flaunt their eccentricities in public.

She tried to sit up farther in the bed, and Morgan helped her. She put her head on his shoulder for a fleeting moment. It felt good to lean on someone else for a little while. Then she sighed. “I was just telling your parents that I owe them an apology.”

Morgan’s dad frowned. “Don’t be ridiculous. I told you. It’s not necessary.”

“I was rude,” she said, her face growing warm. “I could have gone about it differently.”

Morgan stiffened slightly. “Gone about what?”

His mom smiled. “Your darling Hannah came to see us yesterday.”

“So that’s how she ended up in an Ocala hospital.” He looked at all of them one a time, suspicion etched on his face. “Anyone want to explain?”

Stan grimaced. “She came to express her discontent about our plans to divorce.”

Hannah felt Morgan go rigid. So much for avoiding the awkward topic. “He’s being kind,” she said. “It wasn’t one of my finer moments.”

Elaina chuckled. “She might have been a tad
vocal
, but her heart was in the right place.” She stepped closer to the bed, leaned down, and kissed Hannah’s cheek. “And we owe her our thanks.”

Morgan seemed more confused than ever, and Hannah patted his hand. “I’ll give you the dirty details later. But for now, can we move on to something else? I’d rather not relive my nuclear melt-down, if you don’t mind.”

By unspoken consent, the conversation moved to less volatile ground, and soon Hannah was fading. The older Webbers made their farewells. Morgan left briefly to walk them out to their car.

When he returned, Hannah was barely awake. But she struggled to sit up in the bed. “We need to talk before you go,” she said urgently.

He frowned. “I’m not leaving you here. That chair by the window pulls out a little bit. I’ll camp out there and be just fine.”

“You’re too big.”

“Thank you, baby,” he said with a leering grin.

She huffed and pretended to be insulted. “Oh, good grief. Is that all you ever think about?”

He sat on the bed again and picked up her hand, kissing her fingers. “Around you? Yes. Sorry, but I can’t seem to help myself.”

She didn’t protest any more. She was bone weary and very sore, and she didn’t want to be alone. She scooted closer to him. “Hold me,” she said.

Her voice cracked on the last word and he frowned. “What’s wrong, love? Do you need more pain medicine? I saw the nurse in the hall and she said they would probably come in and remove the IV in a little bit so you’ll rest more comfortably.”

She snuggled into his arms as best she could. “Thank you for loving me.”

He snorted. “Like it’s a choice. From the moment I saw you running down the steps of that church, I never had a chance.”

She smiled into his shirt. “You were relentless.”

“I was head over heels in lust and in love.”

“I notice you said lust first.”

“Well, I was trying to be honest. I didn’t think you’d buy the
love at first sight
theory.”

Hannah closed her eyes as he stroked her hair. “I must look like a wreck,” she mumbled.

He reached for her pocketbook on the bedside table and extracted her hairbrush. “How ’bout I take care of that? It will make you feel better.”

She straightened her spine and bowed her head as he carefully pressed the bristles down through her tangled waves. It was almost better than drugs. Over and over, with the utmost care, he brushed gently until every strand of her hair was silky and smooth.

She was almost asleep by the time he finished. He finally abandoned the brush and hugged her tightly, careful to avoid the tubes and paraphernalia that kept her prisoner. “Let’s make one last trip to the john and then get you settled for the night.”

This time she was too tired to feel anything but grateful that he was there to lend his support, literally. In brief moments he had her to the bathroom and out and tucked between the sheets and blankets once again. She lay back with a sigh and reached for his hand. “Sit on the bed with me for just a few more minutes. Please.”

She pulled the ring from her finger and held it out to him. “I want you to take this back.”

He sucked in a sharp breath, and his face went white. She cursed herself for being so stupid. “It’s not what you think,” she said rapidly. “Sorry. I’m not explaining myself very well.”

He seemed to recover, but his eyes were wary.

She tucked the ring in his pocket. “I had big romantic plans for last night. Needless to say, they didn’t quite turn out like I wanted them to.”

He dropped his head. “Sorry. Again.”

She played with the fine, dark hair on his forearm. “I would really like it if we could start all over again. Let’s give me a few weeks to get well, and then I’ll fix another special dinner, and you can put the ring back on my finger. What do you think of that?”

His frown was black. “I think it sucks. Why won’t you wear my ring?”

She met his surly gaze with a beseeching one. “You said last night that I took that engagement ring from you because I felt sorry for you, that I didn’t want to hurt your feelings. And there might have been a shred of truth in that. I knew in my heart I wasn’t ready to get married. But I also
wanted
that ring as much as I was afraid of it. So I’d really like another chance to replay that moment. It would mean a lot to me.”

His eyes were stormy and he glared at her for several tense seconds. Then a corner of his mouth tilted up in a wry grin. “Do I have a choice?”

She pretended to consider that. “No.”

He laughed and smoothed the blanket over her stomach with a featherlight touch. “Are you hurting?”

She shrugged. “Not as much as when you walked out of my kitchen. Promise me that was a one-time deal.”

“It was,” he said fervently. “I swear. It felt like ripping my heart out.”

She closed her eyes. The stuff in the IV was making her very sleepy. She spoke without looking at him. “Your parents told me they’re going to see about some marriage counseling. They seem much better than when I visited them yesterday. I’m glad.”

“You mean when you screamed at them like a fishwife? God, I wish I had been there.”

She smiled, still with her eyelids shut. “You might have been so appalled, you’d never want to speak to me again. I was scary.”

She felt him brush her eyebrows with a fingertip. Then her nose, her lips. And when he kissed her softly, she whimpered.

He rested his arms on the bed and put his head on her breast. “Thank you, Hannah.”

“For what?” Her words were slurred now, despite her attempt to speak clearly.

“For caring enough to go talk to them.”

“I wasn’t sure it would work. It still might not,” she cautioned.

“Well, either way,” he said firmly, “the important thing is that you tried. You believed.”

She made one last effort to look at him. His face was turned away from her. She ran her hand through his silky dark hair. “I believe in us. I’m sorry it took me so long. I was a coward.”

He sat up suddenly, his eyes intent. “You’re one of the bravest women I know. And I’m not talking about the bungee jumping or the surfing or anything else you might have gotten up to. And by the way, promise me you’ll keep your feet on the ground when you’re pregnant with our babies.”

“Babies?” She said it with a grin.

He twisted a strand of her hair around his fingers. “My mom can’t keep a secret worth a damn. She told me outside a minute ago that you offered to bear their grandchildren.”

“I was in a tight bargaining position.”

“So it was an empty promise? I’m shocked, Hannah. Lying to my parents?”

She took his hand and placed it carefully on her poor, abused abdomen. “I’ll make you a deal. You promise not to lose that ring during the next month, and I’ll let you knock me up.”

Hannah smoothed the edge of a place mat and examined her kitchen table with a critical eye. The steaks were warming in the oven, along with a potato casserole and some yeast rolls from the corner bakery. The salad was waiting in the refrigerator for a last-minute toss with her homemade Italian dressing. Everything was exactly as it had been four weeks ago.

She was even wearing her flirty sundress, the one she’d rescued from the floor of her closet and had dry-cleaned. Unfortunately Morgan, Saturday notwithstanding, had spent most of the day out at the site with his boss who had flown in from Miami. Hannah was keeping her fingers crossed that things had wrapped up when they were supposed to.

She bent to pick up a piece of lettuce from the floor and was heartened to realize that she felt barely a twinge of discomfort. She’d had her post-op appointment yesterday, and the doctor had professed herself extremely pleased with both Hannah’s overall health and how the incisions had healed.

All in all, the day was going according to plan.

At five thirty, Hannah got antsy. At six o’clock, she fretted. At ten after six, her doorbell rang.

Morgan stopped in the doorway and sighed. Seeing Hannah in that dress again, not to mention inhaling the aroma of his favorite meal, made the long hours out at the site all worth it.