Something About You (Just Me & You) (31 page)

The cab sped along the icy road from the Des Moines
International Airport toward the city.

Sabrina hoped to catch a glimpse of the river, but the route
the driver took gave her a view of a glistening black lake that was almost
impossible to see in the dark. She’d never seen so much snow in her life. Dirty
snow was piled on roadsides and walkways. Plump fields of white, virgin snow
coated parks and open green spaces. It was the type of weather that would have
had Austin in lockdown, Sabrina thought, remembering the handful of ice days
that sent her to the market to scavenge for the last of the bread, eggs and
milk.

Here in Iowa, life apparently just went on.

Judging from the empty seats in business class, New Year’s
Eve wasn’t a popular time to travel to the Midwest. A kind flight attendant had
taken pity on Sabrina and bumped her up to first class on the last leg, where
sparkling wine and bacon-wrapped tenderloins were on the dinner menu. Sabrina
had picked at her food because she’d been too nervous to eat. Now there was an
anxious gnawing feeling in her stomach. She imagined herself knocking on the
door to Gage’s room.

Would any of his family be there? What about his friends?

The cab ferried her into a massive network of medical
clinics, each connected to the other. Sabrina suddenly realized she had no clue
where she was supposed to be going.

“Main hospital, please,” she told the driver.

The vehicle came to a halt on the far side of what appeared
to be the visitors’ entrance. She stepped onto the icy pavement and watched the
driver huff and puff as he hoisted her luggage out of the trunk. Ordinarily,
she would have made an itemized list of every piece of clothing and pair of
shoes she planned to pack to avoid redundancy. With little time to get to the
airport, her strategy was reduced to hurling a little bit of everything into
all of her bags.

The breathless driver, laden down with Louis, set the last
of her bags down beside her.
What a kind man
, Sabrina thought. She
plucked off one thin leather glove to retrieve her wallet. She gave the driver
the fare along with a generous tip. There was no way she could have transported
her luggage to the entrance without his help. As she was tucking her wallet
back into her purse, she heard a car door slam. Then she felt a blast of heat
on her calves as exhaust blew out of the tailpipe.

“Oh, for crying out loud!” she wailed as the taxi took off,
its tires crunching over bits of salt. She surveyed the ice field in front of
her. Then she looked down at her impractical black patent pumps. The shiny toes
were already caked with dirt.

Another visitor loitered by the entrance. He wore a sweater
cap and a dark peacoat. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw the brief flare
of a lighter as the man lit up a cigarette. She looked around her. Aside from
the other human nearby, who didn’t acknowledge her presence, she was alone. She
slung her garment and messenger bags over one shoulder. Using the handle of a
larger suitcase for stability, she gingerly took a step forward. Her ankle
immediately twisted at an awkward angle as the sole of her shoe slid on the
ice. Tears of frustration popped into her eyes. She reviewed her choices. She
could soldier on and risk cracking her tailbone or she could crawl.

The latter was not an option.

It was now or never. She couldn’t lollygag in the parking
lot until the next thaw. She stepped forward confidently, but the weight of the
bags threw her off balance. Her feet slid around her for what seemed like a
short eternity.

Sabrina closed her eyes tightly and braced herself for a
spill on the ice below.

Then two large arms broke her fall.

**

Gage stared at the familiar Des Moines cityscape in front of
him. The hospital room had been soporifically warm. Too quiet. Too still.

Just like I remember …

He wished he were anywhere else but here, at this place. The
elegant curl of the smoke rising from his cigarette was soothing. The smell and
the taste of the cigarette reminded him of a time when he was younger and the
thing that complicated his life the most was figuring out which older kid was
willing to buy beer for him and his buddies. In fact, a cold, dark beer sounded
great right about now.

But he had to make do with the pack of smokes in his coat
pocket and standing outside with the cold eating through the wool and into his
skin, listening to the distant rush of traffic. The cold reminded him that he
was still alive, and he needed that feeling now more than he ever had. Out of
the corner of his eye, he noticed a taxi pull in front of the entrance and
deposit a fare. The woman wasn’t even wearing a hat and scarf, just a dress
coat more suitable for an Iowa spring.

Gage frowned and took one last puff of the cigarette before
stubbing it out on the icy pavement with the toe of his boot. 

Another out-of-towner
, he thought as the woman
attempted to pick her way across the ice with delicate, mincing steps. He heard
her mutter an expletive as her feet began to slide around underneath her.
Countdown
until landing.
Gage quickly crossed the distance between them. The next
thing he knew, her arms were clinging to him helplessly. He was engulfed by the
scent of incense and lilies. Certainly it couldn’t be …

“Sabrina? Is it really you?” he asked incredulously.

Maybe he was imagining her. Then he saw the familiar cap of
streaky hair and saw her big, dark liquid eyes looking at him from under a
fringe of lashes. With a soft whimper, she reached up and wrapped her arms
around his neck tightly and pressed her cheek against his chest.

“It’s really me,” she breathed into the lapel of his coat.
Gage waited until she got her ice legs before gently prying himself away.

“What the hell are you doing in Des Moines?” He held her
steady at an arm’s length. He didn’t know if he was entirely happy to see her.
The only emotion that registered was surprise. She was the last person he’d
expected to fall into his arms on an icy driving lane at Mercy Medical.

Of all the damn things …

“I should be the one asking you the questions, Fitzgerald,”
she said. “What are
you
doing here? Do the doctors know you’re outside?”

“Of course not.” What would give her that idea? Gage
wondered. Maybe the cold had already gone to her head. Then again, she might
have nipped too many of those little bottles on the plane ride. He tried to
detect the smell of liquor on her breath, but there was none. “C’mon. Let’s get
you inside. Then we’ll talk.”

He wrapped an arm around her waist. “Just put one foot in
front of the other,” he coached. “Don’t get in a rush, or you’ll take us both
down.”

He carefully steered her in the direction of the iceless
cement walkway. Once he made sure her feet were on terra firma, he went back to
retrieve the rest of her things. He shook her head at the back-breaking pile of
designer luggage. Only Sabrina would pack enough bags for an entire year
abroad. He’d bet that the thickest item of clothing in the entire lot was the University
of Texas sweatshirt she sometimes wore around the house.

“Thank you,” she said, picking up her train case along with
one of the smaller bags.

“No scarf. No cap. Driving gloves,” Gage noted as they
walked to the entrance together. “Only you would wear heels to Des Moines in
winter. Please tell me you brought more suitable attire.”

“Well, of course. This is the Midwest, right?” She spoke a
bit too casually. Something told Gage that a shopping expedition would soon be
in order.

He led her through the hospital lobby and toward the
visitors’ lounge. The abrupt change in temperatures from tundra to hothouse
made his face and fingers begin to tingle.

Gage sat down in one of the chairs and patted the seat
beside him. “Sit,” he told her. “Tell me how you ended up here. I’ve heard of
people going to desperate measures to get a date on New Year’s, but this is way
over the top, even for you.”

“I came here because I thought you were in trouble, Gage.”
Sabrina sat down on the edge of the seat and looked at him with genuine
concern. “I thought you were in the hospital!”

“Do I look like I should be?” He felt a smile tug at his
mouth.

“Well, no,” she admitted, looking slightly abashed. “You
mean you’re not?”

“Honey, I’m in perfect health. What made you think that I
wasn’t?”

Gage listened while Sabrina told him about the phone call
she’d placed to the hospital and the confusing conversation she’d had with the
operator. So she worried about him after all, he thought. But that didn’t make
it all better. She had to know that he was still a little raw after their last
encounter. 

“So you flew all the way out here because you thought I was
at death’s door,” he said. “That’s sweet.”

“It’s not sweet. And I didn’t think you were at death’s
door.”

“No?” he asked. “Seems like you made quite a long haul for
what could have been accomplished with a simple phone call.”

Sabrina turned her eyes to the ceiling in exasperation.

“Okay, so maybe I did assume the worst,” she conceded. “But
you left me no choice. I had to make sure you were okay. It’s what any friend
would do in the same situation.”

He gave her a frank look. “Is that what we are to each other
now? Friends?”

Sabrina’s cheeks, already flush from the cold, turned pinker
as she turned away from his gaze. Now was as good a time as any to tell her all
of it. She’d find out eventually. He pulled off his cap. Sabrina did a double
take.

“You got your hair cut,” she blurted.

“Yeah, well—” He ran a hand through short, spiky locks. “—My
sister always liked it better short. She’s the reason I’m here in Des Moines.”

“You never mentioned a sister.” Sabrina looked perplexed.

“Well, I have one. Her name’s
Michelle
Fitzgerald,”
Gage told her. “She’s the patient, not me, and I suspect that the
similar-sounding first names are the reason for your confusion.” He scratched
the back of his neck idly and looked around the room. Anything to avoid the
concern he saw welling in Sabrina’s eyes.

“Oh, Gage! I hope it’s nothing too serious.” He could see
realization dawning, the worry spreading across her face. “It’s real serious,
isn’t it?” she asked in a subdued voice. “That’s why you were smoking earlier.”

“You got me.” He tossed his cap from one hand to the other.
“I only have a cigarette when I’m under a lot of stress. My sister, she’s in real
bad shape, Sabrina.”

It had been a long time since Gage had talked to anyone
about Michelle. Sebastian knew. So did all of the folks Gage left behind when
he moved away from Walden — a few high school friends and the old-timers
who still lived in his former neighborhood. People who actually gave a damn
about the Fitzgeralds. But none of his coworkers in Austin knew that he still
had family in Iowa. The subject had never come up.

“Is it … cancer?” Sabrina whispered with stricken eyes.

Gage shook his head. “She’s in a coma. She was in an
automobile accident two years ago. She was coming home from a New Year’s Eve
party. Drunk driver. How’s that for cliché?”

“Oh, Gage,” Sabrina murmured, putting her hand over his.
“Has her condition changed? Is that why you’re here?”

He shook his head. “Michelle’s on life support. Her doctors
never gave me much hope. But I had to give her a fighting chance. After I got
over the shock, I told myself I’d give her a year to come out of it. Then I
talked myself into another six months after the first year deadline came and
went. She can’t go on like this. I can’t either.” Gage looked into her eyes,
hoping he’d see understanding there.

And he did. Of course he would. This was Sabrina, not some
fly-by-night lover.

“You don’t have to explain your decisions to anyone,” she
told him in a quiet steady voice. “Certainly not to me. If the same thing
happened to someone I loved, I would have done the same thing.” She drew a deep
breath. “So what happens now?”

“I let Michelle go.” Gage put his tone in neutral. “I have
power of attorney. All I need to do is sign the necessary paperwork, and that’s
all there is to it. It sounds simple enough, doesn’t it?”

“No,” Sabrina said softly. “It sounds hard as hell.” 

He ran a hand across a few days’ worth of stubble, aware
that he probably looked as bad as he felt. “I’ve been coming to the hospital
every day,” he said. “I read to her. I turn the radio to her favorite station.
I talk to her. There’s a lot of stuff I never told her that she should have
known about. Hell, Sabrina. I know I’m doing this for myself. It’s not like she
can hear me.”

Sabrina studied her lap for a long time, deep in thought.
Then she finally looked up at him and said, “You know what I believe? I believe
that she can. I think that everything that makes Michelle special and unique is
already in another dimension. I believe that the portal that separates the two
of you is thinner than you think — as thin as air. You’ll pass through it
when it’s your time. We all will.” She gave his fingers a comforting squeeze.
“I don’t know if I’m right about any of this; it’s just what I believe.”

The compassion and encouragement in Sabrina’s eyes made his
throat constrict. Everything suddenly felt surreal. Here he sat sporting a new
haircut for a sister who was in a coma. A sister who likely couldn’t see or
hear anything. Sabrina had to think he was poised to dive off the deep end.
That had to be the reason why she had chosen to comfort him with the exact
things he needed to hear — and that he desperately wanted to believe
himself. He moved his hand away.

“Please don’t give me the ‘poor, pitiful Gage’ look,” he
said. “I could handle it coming from Molly. Even from Sebastian. But not from
you.”