Cupid's Christmas (19 page)

“They were together?” the officer asked.

“Yes, I’m sure they were,” the woman nodded. “Before the accident I saw them talking. I think that girl is her daughter.”

“I thought you said you didn’t know her—”

“I don’t,” the woman said sadly, “but I know only a mother would do what she did.”

The elderly couple was dazed but relatively unharmed. The woman had cuts on her leg and the man on his hands, but that seemed to be the extent of their injuries. “We were lucky,” he told the officer. “We could’ve been killed.” He didn’t say so, but he was feeling guilty about how he’d rushed his wife to hurry up. If he’d allowed her to spend another few minutes shopping they’d still be in Macy’s petite department and would have avoided the incident altogether.

People were still milling around and craning their necks to catch the gore of what happened when the first ambulance pulled out with Eleanor. The lights flashed and the siren screeched its warning, but Eleanor heard none of it.

The second ambulance left minutes later with Lindsay in the back, but by then, she had regained consciousness. Certain a gorilla was stomping on her leg, she tried to lift her head and pull at the mask covering her nose and mouth.

“You’ve got to keep that on,” the Paramedic said, easing her back down.

“What…” Lindsay only knew pain, she remembered nothing.

“There was an accident,” he said, “a car…”

His voice faded in and out, she caught some of the words but not others…the car…slowly Lindsay began to recall Eleanor pushing her…tumbling backward…her shoe caught on the sidewalk…her leg, the sharp pain…the snap and crunch of landing and that last vision of a car coming toward…”Oh my God,” she gasped. “Eleanor!”

“Where’s Eleanor?” The sound of panic ripped through her words. “Where’s Eleanor?”

“Stay calm,” he said, clasping his hands over her arms and holding her in place. “Do not try to move around. Is Eleanor the woman you were with?”

“Yes,” Lindsay answered. “Is she okay?”

This was Gavin’s first day on the job and although his heart was beating almost as rapidly as Lindsay’s, he had been trained to respond without expression which is what he did. “We don’t know anything yet,” he answered. “She’s on her way to the hospital in the first ambulance. Jefferson University has a great team of doctors and I’m sure they’re doing everything they can.”

“But is she going to be okay?” Lindsay’s question had the sound of a plea.

“Stay calm,” he repeated. “We’re on our way to Jefferson right now. As soon as we get you inside, I’ll check on your friend Eleanor.”

“She’s my stepmom,” Lindsay sobbed. Somehow the pain in her leg now seemed small in comparison to the thought of losing Eleanor. “My phone,” she said. “I need my phone.”

“Did you have a phone with you?”

“Yes, I was talking on it when…” Little by little the pieces were coming together, she could see the phone flying from her hand as she tumbled backward. “I need to call my dad.” Her left eye was swollen shut, but the right filled with tears that overflowed and carved a pathway down her cheek and into her ear.

“Please remain still,” he repeated. “As soon as we get to the hospital, I’ll take care of everything. I’ll call your dad and check on Eleanor.”

I
went nose to nose with Life Management on this one. I told them the accident was unfair and unwarranted. They argued it was part of the plan and refused to budge.

In my opinion, any plan that screws up four people’s lives the way this one would is basically flawed. I asked him to change it one last time and when he said absolutely not, I hit him with the only weapon I had—love. I zapped him with a dose strong enough to have every person in Manhattan walking around starry-eyed. I wasn’t sure it would work, but it was all I had. For a moment, he just stood there with a goofy falling-in-love expression then he issued a revised event order.

I danced out of there without even glancing back. The truth is, I don’t want to be around when he figures out what I’ve done.

It’s strictly against the rules for any department to use their powers against another one, so if you don’t hear from me again, it’s because I’ve been transferred to Graveyard Reconnaissance.

T
hat evening six victims of the accident were delivered to the Emergency Room of Jefferson University Hospital—the elderly couple suffering cuts and lacerations, the teenage boy with a dislocated shoulder and broken arm, the sales clerk who’d been pinned behind the car, Lindsay and Eleanor. The driver died before the officers could extricate him from the car and the young girl who’d been walking two steps in front of Lindsay was killed instantly. Both of those bodies were taken directly to the morgue.      

As soon as Gavin rolled the gurney through the Emergency Room door, Lindsay started asking him to check on Eleanor and call her father. When he said he’d have to get her admitted first, she threatened to get up and find out for herself.

“You can’t do that!” Gavin said. He then wheeled the gurney into the hallway, situated it to one side, and trudged off to find out about Eleanor.

After three inquiries, he learned that Eleanor had been transported to the Radiology Department on the lower level and apparently considered in serious condition. Sydney Harper, a nurse who was dating Doctor Brinkley, and had the inside scoop on everything, whispered, “Jack thinks her back may be broken.” Jack, of course, was Doctor Brinkley the ER Attending.

“I can’t tell her that,” Gavin moaned.

An expert at easing the concerns of worried families, Sydney replied, “Just say she’s gone for a CT scan.”

Gavin settled for doing that. When Lindsay replied, “You mean they don’t they know anything?” he simply shrugged. She then rattled off their home telephone number and asked him to call her father—“John,” she said, “John Gray.”

Gavin returned to the lobby and used the telephone at the admitting desk. He punched in the number—it rang once then stopped. He tried again, same thing. After the third try, he returned to the hallway where he’d parked Lindsay. “Are you sure this is the right number?” he read back the number she’d given him.

“Yes, that‘s it.”

“Strange,” he said, “must be trouble on the line.”

“Trouble?”

He nodded, “I get one ring then it goes dead…”

Lindsay realized what was happening. “Oh my God, the calls are still being forwarded to my cell phone. You have to find my cell phone…please…go back, look for it…”

“I can’t do it right now,” Gavin said apologetically, “but give me your home address and I’ll get a patrol car to drive out and inform your dad.”

“Seven-six-seven Oak Tree road in Medford.”

Gavin jotted the address down then brought the Gurney back to the admitting area and began filling out the necessary paperwork. When the orderlies rolled Lindsay into the small examining room she called back to Gavin, “Don’t forget.”    

Cupid…The News

W
hen John returned home from the game, the house was empty, so he showered and dressed for dinner. After a full day of shopping, he figured Eleanor would most likely be tired and in no mood for cooking, besides he was anxious to try that new steak house on Route 70. Thinking about the steak smothered in onion rings with a buttery baked potato sitting beside it, he grew hungrier by the minute. John waited until shortly after six, and then began calling Lindsay’s cell phone. He clicked call #3 but nothing happened. No ring, nothing. He tried again—still nothing, so he punched in the number manually. Still nothing. “Son-of-a-gun,” he grumbled. “She’s turned the phone off because they’re busy shopping.” 

He’d called the number a dozen times before the doorbell rang at seven o’clock. John hurried to the door and yanked it open expecting to see Eleanor and Lindsay too overloaded with packages to come through the garage—instead, he found Matthew standing there.

“Is Lindsay ready?” Matthew asked.

“They’re not back from shopping yet.” The agitation in John’s voice was obvious.

“Really?” Matthew pulled his cell phone from his pocket and scrolled through the messages. “That’s odd,” he said. “She didn’t leave a message.”

“Because they’re busy shopping,” John griped. “Looks like she’d have called if—”

“Lindsay would have called,” Matthew cut in. “She knew I was picking her up at seven.”

“Maybe they’re caught in traffic…”

“Lindsay would’ve called,” Matthew repeated.

“Are you sure?”

“I’m positive!” The look on Matthew’s face indicated something was wrong.

John’s expression quickly changed from one of annoyance to one of concern. He began picturing a five car pileup on the bridge. “Let’s check the news,” he suggested.

Matthew agreed although he thought it more likely Lindsay had misplaced or lost her cell phone, perhaps allowed it to fall from her pocket as she walked through the department store. A lost phone and traffic jam combined would make sense, it would explain why— 

They were both standing in front of the television waiting for a commercial to end when the doorbell rang. “That must be them,” John said happily, but the downturn of Matthew’s mouth didn’t change.

When John opened the door, the sight of a uniformed Police Officer was not what he expected. “Apparently there’s something wrong with your telephone,” the officer said. “Your daughter has been trying to call but couldn’t get through. She asked—”

“Is Lindsay alright?”

“There’s been an accident but your daughter is going to be okay. According to the paramedic I spoke with she has a broken leg, but other than that—” 

“What about Eleanor?”

“Eleanor? The paramedic didn’t mention an Eleanor.”

Standing right behind John, Matthew asked, “Where are they?”

“They? The only one I know about is Lindsay Gray. She’s in the Emergency Room at Jefferson University Hospital in Philadelphia. It’s downtown—”

“I know where it is,” Matthew said, and by then he had his jacket on and was pulling the car keys from his pocket.

In thirty minutes, they made the drive that normally took double the time. Before Matthew parked the car, John jumped out and barreled into the Emergency Room. “Do you have an Eleanor Barrow here?” he asked the nurse at the Admissions counter. 

“I’m on the phone sir,” she answered. “I’ll be with you in a moment.”

Less than a minute later, Matthew rushed in and asked, “Did you find out anything yet?”

John shook his head and glared impatiently at the nurse who was still talking.

When the nurse finally hung up the phone, she turned to them and asked, “Okay, now what was that name?”

“Eleanor Barrow,” John said.

“Lindsay Gray,” Matthew added.

“Only family is allowed in the Exam Rooms, are you—”

Before she finished the question both men answered, “Yes.”

Okay then.” The nurse’s finger moved slowly down a list of names, “Ah, here they are,” she said. “Lindsay Gray is in Exam Room Seven.” She pointed a finger down the hallway. “And it looks like Eleanor Barrow is still in Radiology. When they bring her back, she’ll be in Room Eight, you can wait there if you’d like.”

The two men walked the long hallway together and when they arrived at Room Seven, John went in with Matthew. Lindsay was groggy, but awake. She began to explain most of what had happened. “…the car…almost dark…no headlights…Eleanor shoved me out of the way…but…”

“Did you actually see the car hit her?” John asked. His words had the weariness of someone trying to tread water in an ocean of tears. “Do you think there’s any chance…”

While Matthew stood by Lindsay’s bedside, John lowered himself into a chair in the far corner of the room, and allowed his head to drop into the cradle of his hands. Although his sobs were silent, his shoulders shook as violently as the earth does when a crater opens up.