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Authors: Kim Carmichael

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BOOK: On The Dotted Line
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He
slid one of the glasses down to her. “One of the staff is on the way with some
clothes for us. They’re also packing a bag for Nan. I hope you don’t mind, but Peter
will be dropping off some work for me.”

“They
have free Wi-Fi.” She lifted her glass and stared at the dark red liquid. Her
chest wanted to collapse under the weight of unsaid words. “Thank you for
coming here and helping me and for the insurance. You don’t have to stay.” She
still didn’t understand where they ended up. Part of her wanted to rejoice her
problems were fixed but another wanted to cry for the people who didn’t have
her false luxury.

“I
know I’m not a stupid man, but right now I care to differ.” He shook his head
and drank the glass down, wincing at what was no doubt a substandard vintage.

“What
makes you say that?”

He
let out a lone laugh, but didn’t answer.

“Why?”
She took a sip of the wine and wrinkled her nose. Something must be wrong with the
beverage or with her to notice.

“If
it’s all the same with you, I’ll stay with you and Nan tonight.” He loosened
his tie. “I want to know why you didn’t call me.”

The
emptiness in her chest turned into a full on ache. She shrugged again.

“Damn
it, Willow, then answer me this, why didn’t you use your last name?” He pressed
his fingers into his temple.

“It
won’t be mine forever.” At her admission her breath caught. She hated her real
last name, it wasn’t attached to anything or anyone, but with Randolph her last
name went back to the pilgrims. Sometimes she wished she could be one of those
people who only went by a first name.

“No
matter what ever happens between us, you may always have my last name to do
with as you please.” He shook his head. “You’re probably one of the only people
who has ever truly earned it.”

For
hours, maybe for years, she fought the urge to cry. Yes, her eyes filled with
tears too many times to count, but she didn’t cry, didn’t have time, couldn’t
let go. Randolph’s gift meant more than any money, her shop, anything. Maybe at
the end of the day it was all he had to give, and the emotion of everything
surfaced.

Instinct
took over and she slid over to his side, leaned in and hugged him, pressing her
face into the crook of his neck and breathing in the scent she would be able to
recognize the rest of her life. At last she let the tears out.

“Willow.”
He took her into his arms, held her tight and ran his hands through her hair. “It’s
going to be all right. I’m here, I’m not going anywhere.”

She
tensed and held back telling him he wouldn’t always be there.

He
took her shoulders and pushed her back. “Look at me.”

When
her eyes met his, her cheeks heated at his intense focus on her.

“Like
my name, I will always be here for you.”

She
pressed her lips together trying to stop crying. The tears fell anyway. He might
say the words, might even mean them, but what happened in a year? Why did she
know that document even existed? What was real and what was the man she first
met trying to get his way?

He
wiped her tears away. “Incredible.”

“What
is?” Damn her for leaning into his touch.

“The
color of your eyes. I’ve never seen anything like it.” His fingertip traveled
across her cheek, down her jawline and traced her lower lip.

She
shivered.

“Do
you think once we get Nan home and she is better we can try to recapture what
we had today?” He moved her hair away from her face. “Maybe we can go over to the
Marina Del Rey Apartment? Would you like that?”

“I
want to watch you create something.” Unable to stop herself, she reached over
and uncurled one of his curls watching it spring back.

He
pulled her close, pressing her head down on his shoulder. “I’m trying my
hardest.”

Tired
of the struggle, she cuddled up to his side. They sat together in this strange
space, and he continued to stroke her hair while she toyed with his dark blue
tie with the tiny white dots. She should have never tried to choose clothes for
him.

“Mr.
and Mrs. Van Ayers?” The happy nurse who greeted them before came into the
lounge or waiting room, or whatever.

At
the intrusion she jolted up, her body protesting at the sudden movement. All she
wanted was to lie back down on Randolph. “Yes.”

“That’s
us.” Randolph sat up.

“The
patient is in her room, and you’re more than welcome to join her now.” The
nurse smiled.

“How
is she?” Randolph asked the question before she could make a coherent sentence.

“She
is stabilized and sleeping. We’ll set you up in the adjoining room.” The woman
motioned for them to follow.

Randolph
put his arm around her.

As
they walked out, she grabbed his overcoat off the hook and hugged it to
herself. A silly thing a lovesick pre-teen would do, but she was married to a
man who looked like a teen idol no matter what the circumstances.

“Are
you cold?” He rubbed her shoulder.

“Not
really.”

“She
called you Mrs. Van Ayers.” He chuckled. “You answered to your name.”

Her
name. He offered to let her keep it, but truth be told she couldn’t be a Van
Ayers without him.

 

* * * *

 

“This
is not a hospital.” Nan glanced down at the IV in her arm and back to Willow. “Chiquita,
what is this place?”

“It’s
called a V.I.P. suite. Some people pay extra to have certain amenities. That’s
how Randolph and I got to stay with you last night. There’s another room over
there.” She pointed toward the second bedroom. Their hospital room reminded her
more of a fancy hotel on television rather than a hospital.

“Why
do we get this and no one else?” Nan shook her head.

“It
would be amazing if everyone could have something like this, but it is suites
like this one that help generate extra revenue for the hospital, and the money
made here, helps fund other programs people need.” Fine, she also asked the
same question more than once. “Randolph explained it before he left for work.”

Nan
tilted her head. “I understand.”

“I’m
just thankful…” Willow took her hand. “I’m just thankful Randolph could do this
for you.” A little while after Nan was brought to their suite, they met with
Dr. Huntley and an endocrinologist. Later, Lillian arrived with Mr. Van Ayers, Dimitri,
changes of clothes and a flower arrangement that rivaled a royal wedding. Peter
also swung by with work and well wishes, followed by more flowers and phone
calls from Jade and Slate. At everyone’s concern, her heart filled.

Once
alone, she couldn’t help herself and curled up with Randolph on the bed in their
suite, watching him get some work done and do a little sketching. She must have
dozed off because when she woke in the middle of the night to check on Nan he
had her in his arms asleep and the picture of Nan and Jeb on her pillow. Where
she used to wish for a mattress, nothing would ever compare to him and she
couldn’t shake the thought he didn’t want her past their first anniversary no
matter how incredible he acted. Even when he gave her his name, he qualified
the gift, said it was hers no matter what happened. His words didn’t speak of a
man who wanted anything long term, but his actions said different.

“Chiquita,
your eyes are dark, full of questions. The doctor told you I am going to be
okay.” Nan squeezed her hand. “What’s the matter?”

“I’m
sorry I wasn’t there when you got sick.” She shut her eyes. Even with Nan there
speaking to her, if she envisioned getting Jade’s phone call her stomach
spiraled as if it were happening in the present. “I should have been with you.”

“No,
you shouldn’t have.”

Willow
shook her head. “I left for nothing.” If she stayed with Nan she wouldn’t have
gone to the office, wouldn’t have found that document. Damn, she needed to find
the note, no longer could she hide, and pretend painful items didn’t exist if
she didn’t talk about them. She bit her lip, the guilt returning along with a
nice bout of nausea for a side dish. “I’m just a terrible person.”

“Look
at me.” Nan’s tone hardened.

She
opened her eyes and stared down at the woman who basically raised her.

“Tell
me what you love about him.”

“Nan.”
She tried to pull her hand away. “This isn’t about him.”

“Your
world is about him and there’s no reason you shouldn’t love him.” Nan held
tight. “Tell me what you love.”

“I
saw something.” She needed to let the news or the confession out.

“Was
it something you were meant to see?” Nan lifted her chin.

She
shrugged. Even with Randolph at the office, she glanced over her shoulder and
back to Nan.

“Did
you search for it or did you stumble into it?”

She
lowered her head and studied how Nan held her hand. Not too long ago her hand
disappeared inside the protection of the woman lying in the hospital bed. Somewhere
along the way her hand caught up.

“When
you search you end up with what you deserve good or bad, when you stumble, you
can fall.”

“I
stumbled, then I searched.” She got what she deserved and she fell flat on her
face.

“I
hope no one is stumbling.”

What
appeared to be an entire Rose Parade float entered the room along with dozens
of multi-colored and metallic balloons.

Willow
watched while the man put the oversized arrangement down. “Mr. Hartford?” Only
the fact the man was Randolph’s account stopped her from jumping up and
spreading her arms out to protect her Nan.

“Vincent.
I must look a sight.” Nan’s voice lowered.

Willow
spun back to Nan, was the woman trying to be sexy in a hospital? Nan never
cared what she looked like.

“Nanette.”
Mr. Hartford let the balloons soar to the ceiling. “You are always gorgeous.” Without
asking for proper permission he came around the side of the bed, gave Nan two
kisses on the cheek, one a bit close to her mouth, took her hand and sat.

Nan
giggled. She actually giggled. Her eyes sparkled and she sat up straighter. “What
are you doing here?”

Willow
wanted to ask the same question but with a less breathy voice. Yes, Nan called
him earlier, but a hospital visit took a relationship to the next level. The man
could have just sent a tasteful vase, not arrived with a florist’s shop.

“How
can you ask such a question?” Mr. Hartford reached into his suit jacket pocket
and pulled out a little stuffed heart with a happy face. “I knew not to get you
candy.”

Nan
smiled and took the gift. “You got me enough.”

“Not
nearly.” He winked. “But I did take the liberty of hiring a holistic
nutritionist for when you are out, and I thought we could both take some
cooking classes together.”

Willow
ground her teeth together.

“You
just want me to cook for you again.” Nan teased.

“It
was delicious.” He made a little noise of contentment.

They
chuckled that low chuckle shared between two people who knew each other a
little too well.

Willow
didn’t belong here and shot off the bed.

“Chiquita?”

“I’m
going to take a quick walk and let the two of you be alone.” She wrapped her
arms around her shoulders. If she didn’t belong with Nan where did she belong?

“Hold
on.” Nan motioned for her to come back.

She
returned to Nan’s side.

“Answer
my question. Tell me why.”

Mr.
Hartford did her the favor of glancing at his phone.

“He
takes care of me, I feel safe when he’s around.” She took a breath. “I want to
take care of him, but…” But she wanted him to be there after he turned
thirty-four, or at least know there was the possibility.

Nan
grabbed her hand and pulled her down. “That’s how it should be.”

“You
don’t understand.”

“Whatever
you saw, if it didn’t cause you to slap him across the face then let him kiss
the scraped knees you got when you stumbled.” Nan gave her a smile, the same
one she used when she actually fixed scraped knees.

“What
if –”

“Don’t
you tell me he doesn’t love you. You just told me he takes care of you, and
that is how a real man shows his love.”

“I
should have been with you.” She repeated and peeked over at Mr. Hartford again.
“At least I thought so.” Of course she didn’t hire a nutritionist.

“No,
this is how it works.” Nan pulled her down for a hug and spoke into her ear. “You
and me, we are more than blood. We will always be together, but I did my job
and raised a magnificent woman and now we are equals.”

She
pulled back slightly and took in Nan’s profile. Through the tears in her eyes,
the woman who raised her appeared out of focus, but Willow could still make her
out.

BOOK: On The Dotted Line
7.85Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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