This Very Moment (9 page)

Taking the hint, Bill put the car in gear and left the observatory parking lot. Only a few comments broke the silence on the twenty-minute drive to Kylee’s apartment. At her door she smiled and thanked him. “I had a lot of fun.”

“Well, don’t forget next week. I’m still planning to uphold my end of the bargain by attending your banquet. What time should I pick you up?”

“Could you just meet me? I have to be there quite early to make sure everything’s running smoothly. This group is what I call my second list, but I still want things to be nice.”

“Your second list?”

She laughed. “As opposed to my first list. The second list is made up of wealthy people who are either not as wealthy as those on the first list or not as generous. The dinner costs only a hundred dollars and the donations usually stay around a couple thousand. Besides that, it’s pretty much the same. I’m even using the same catering service to serve a cut-down version of the same meal.”

“You mean I could have eaten the same food for one-fifth the price?”

“Nearly. And your ten thousand would have been the top bid. They never go above that.”

“Well, put me on that list, would you? Then I can go to more dinners with you.”

Kylee laughed with pleasure. “Okay, will do.” She put her hand on the doorknob, but hesitated. “Guillau—Bill, I’m really sorry for sending you that invitation, addressed to Nicole like it was. I was in France last month for two days on business for another charity, and I ran into your brother. Actually, it was kind of funny how we met—I’ve been meaning to tell you. It was at a church. I looked up the address in the phone book and went, and there he was. I didn’t know he was a member of my faith until I saw him there. I was very surprised, but glad, too. We were only able to talk a minute because he was headed into a meeting with a visiting leader. He didn’t mention Nicole when he gave me your address. I guess he thought I already knew.”

Suddenly everything fell into place. “That makes sense. I sort of suspected it was something like that when I found out you got my address from Jourdain. Not very likely you would have run into him on the street.”

“Well, goodnight.”

Bill raised his hand in farewell, when what he really wanted to do was to trace her dimples with his fingers, to kiss each one before finally ending up at her mouth. He had kissed women since Nicole’s death, but only because they had pushed. Kylee wasn’t pushing and he didn’t want to take advantage of the emotion they had shared regarding Emily. No, it was better to let things alone.

The fact that she was a Christian didn’t bother him, any more than it bothered him that his brother had started attending a church. As long as they didn’t force their beliefs on him, they should be free to do whatever they wanted.

Later, in his condo, he flipped on the TV to watch a
Star Trek
rerun. During the commercial break, the video for Children’s Hope Fund came on. Bill watched with the same fascination as when he had first seen it. The commercial wasn’t the thirty-second spot he had expected, but a sixty-second one. Most likely it was cheaper to advertise at night and so they had used the longer version of the commercial. He bet either version would bring results.

He turned to another channel and again the tragic faces peered out at him, beckoning, pleading. All the pleas seemed to be directed at him. What more could he do? When the burned child appeared on the screen, Bill felt a sudden rage emerge within him. He hadn’t been able to help Nicole; her burned body had been beyond any earthly help. There was no mythical God to save her, either, or to protect these wretched children. There was only Kylee and those like her. He would give his money to their cause but not his hope nor his heart. There might not be enough of it left to break again, but he wouldn’t give anything the chance.

Bill jabbed at the remote and the room fell silent. He pulled the blanket from the other side of the couch over him, too tired to walk up the stairs to his cold bed.

That night he dreamed of the accident, of Nicole’s ash-covered wedding ring glinting dully on her blackened finger. The wedding ring was the only thing that had positively identified her faceless body. He screamed, and turned his eyes heavenward, pleading, but there was no answer. When he looked down again at the woman in his arms, it wasn’t Nicole but Kylee he held, her barely recognizable face turning to him, begging for help. The doctor part of him knew he might be able to save her. She wasn’t burned nearly as badly as Nicole had been. The burned Kylee lifted an arm toward him, but in his dream Bill dropped her body and ran.

CHAPTER SEVEN

Kylee was jubilant. After only seven days of TV commercials, Children’s Hope had already received four million dollars more in contributions—a very good sum for the beginning week of advertising. She called Elaina with the news and then dialed Bill at his office.

“Four million, Bill, can you believe it? In small donations from people all over the United States. The amount should only increase because it generally takes repeat viewing for people to act. I’ve tried TV before and had a fair amount of success, but this time it’s really working. I can’t wait for the children to begin their operations! Elaina has them scheduled beginning next Monday. It’s really going to happen!”

“Sounds like we need to celebrate. How about dinner? I’m finished here for the day, so I could swing around and pick you up.”

“I don’t know, our banquet isn’t until tomorrow night,” Kylee replied with a laugh. “Don’t you think it’ll ruin our record? You know, only seeing each other on Saturday banquet nights.”

“I think we can be adult enough to handle the conversation without having to donate money or accept awards.”

“Very funny. But seriously, I can’t go tonight. That’s the other reason I called. You have to watch the late news on ABC. I’m being interviewed—live! Well, almost live. They’re doing a few takes and choosing the best one, but there’s not going to be time for much editing. I think they’re only giving me thirty seconds, plus an excerpt from my video and a brief take of Elaina and two children. But everyone’ll see it. I’m going down to the station now.”

“That means contributions will pick up.”

“I think they’ll at least triple in this state, and the broadcast might get picked up nationwide. I was so excited that I had to call and tell you.”

“I’m glad you did. I’m really happy for you.”

“Well, I guess I’ll see you tomorrow night at the banquet.”

“That reminds me,” Bill said. “Would you believe I actually got some business from that first banquet?”

“Who was it? Someone from our table?”

There was an awkward silence, as though Bill regretted his words. “Just a lady. I guess I really shouldn’t have brought it up. I don’t know why I did. Patient privacy and all that.”

Kylee was too curious to let it drop. “It was Mrs. Boswell, wasn’t it? Audrey’s friend. It has to be her—I saw how interested she was. What did she want? Liposuction, a facelift?”

“Well . . .”

“Come on, Bill. You have to tell me! I’m going to be running into her again, and I want to make sure I don’t say anything to offend her. Besides, I think it’s great that she felt comfortable enough to go to you.”

“I thought you didn’t agree with casual plastic surgery.”

“Not really, but if it makes her feel better about herself, then maybe she should do it.”

“That’s just it. I don’t think she has a problem with her appearance. I don’t believe she even wants to do it. I think her friends are pressuring her. So I recommended a good face cream and put her on a diet and exercise program. With any luck, she won’t feel the need for liposuction.”

“Good.” Kylee had seen liposuction done once on a TV program and it hadn’t been pretty. “I guess that means you really are a good doctor. I wish you could be the one to . . . never mind. I’d better get on my way.”

“Okay, we’ll see you tomorrow.”

Kylee hung up the phone, wondering again why Bill didn’t want to help the children with their surgeries. He actually seemed to care about his patients—even the overbearing Mrs. Boswell—and had donated a lot of money to Children’s Hope. That showed he cared about the children at least up to a point. So why didn’t he want to get involved further? She shook her head and started for the door.

Despite Bill’s odd attitude toward doing surgery for the children, it sure had felt good to share her news with a friend she could trust with her feelings. Once, she had felt that way about Raymond—before he had deserted her. The comparison didn’t stop her budding hopes for the future. Bill wasn’t Raymond and wouldn’t act like him. And while she wasn’t Nicole either, perhaps there would be room enough in his heart for both of them.

What concerned her most was that he claimed not to believe in God. But couldn’t people change? She had. Bill might too, given the right circumstances. Maybe she could show him the way, as someone had shown her.

She began whistling aimlessly as she slid into the seat of her car, thinking again how wonderful it was to have someone she could tell her good news.

* * * * *

Bill heard Kylee hang up, but he still gripped his phone, knowing what she had wanted to ask and relieved that she hadn’t. He didn’t want to think about becoming involved with those children any more than he already was. What if they couldn’t be helped? What if their deformities couldn’t be repaired to an acceptable degree? Would they look at him with reproach in their eyes, as he imagined Nicole had done while she burned in the train? He had recognized that some of the children Kylee wanted to help had diseases that were degenerative. Even with surgeries they would digress, and some would eventually die. How could he agree to be involved with something so terrifying? He’d already lost too much. Better that he give sterile money and stay a safe distance away.

I’m sorry, Nicole. I know you’d want me to, but I can’t.

He leaned his head on his fist and tried to calm his racing heart, replaying the conversation with Kylee in his mind. Her voice had been vivacious and alive, and Bill was grateful for her call—that she felt close enough to him to want to share her news. He had wanted to talk with her all week, but each time he picked up the phone, something had stopped him.

I can’t help her. I can’t do it.

He took a deep breath. What bothered him even more was that he hadn’t thought about Nicole for at least two days. As much as he had tried to forget her these past five years, that had never happened before.

He looked at the phone still clutched in his hand and put it in his pocket carefully. He thought again of the excitement in Kylee’s voice and how happy he had been to hear from her. She was like a slice of day in the darkness of his night.

In their exchange he had forgotten to tell her his own good news. Well, there was still time to get down the TV station. The address should be in the phone book.

* * * * *

When Kylee arrived at the TV station, Elaina and the children were already being filmed. Anna Johnson, the youngest of the two children, clung to her mother’s hand as she stared at the reporter. Anna had been adopted from Korea. She had a bilateral cleft lip, and a complete cleft palate. One of the clefts on her lip had been poorly repaired, and the other remained unaltered. Kylee also remembered hearing something about her having a temporary palate that badly needed surgery. Anna would have received it earlier, but her father had died soon after her adoption and her mother didn’t have the funds to pay for the necessary surgeries. They had contacted Children’s Hope several years earlier and Anna had eventually worked her way to the top of the list.

“So you have a bilateral cleft palate.” The reporter spoke distinctly so that Anna could understand. The little girl had gone untreated for middle ear disease—fluid present in the middle ear at birth—and as a result suffered some hearing loss. “Anna, can you explain to us what that means?”