Another Woman's Man (19 page)

“Dad?”
She fell to her knees beside him, feeling the cold stone on her knees and shins. She rubbed his arm. “What's wrong?”

He didn't respond but instead continued to grit his teeth.

“Damn it, talk to me! Can you breathe? Are you in pain? Tell me what's wrong!”

“Get . . . the . . . Get Hortense,” he finally rasped.

Dawn instantly rose to her feet. She ran toward the glass doors, yelling for help.

X
avier raced across the parking lot and through the hospital's automatic doors. He looked frantically around him, not knowing where to go first. He shot past the shuttered gift shop, then beelined to the front desk where a woman in green scrubs sat.

“Excuse me,” he said to her. The woman slowly looked up from the clipboard on her desk. “I'm here to see Herbert Allen. He was admitted this evening. I'm not sure—”

“Xavier?” someone called from behind him.

He turned and found Dawn sitting in the hospital waiting area.

He spotted her instantly, though at least ten other people sat in the room with her. As usual, she seemed out of place in her drab surroundings with her vibrantly colored silk top and wool skirt, silver bangle bracelet and chic bob. She looked like a bird of paradise or a rare orchid among a group of potted house ferns. She was sitting in a far-off corner of the waiting room, near the windows facing the emergency entrance. Their gazes met and he could see that her eyes were red, like she had been crying.

Xavier strode toward her. As he did, any thoughts of Constance and their wedding disappeared. At that moment his sole focus was Dawn. Xavier wanted to quickly close the gap between them, wrap her in his arms, and kiss her like he had at the community center. He wanted to hold her and get all the lines of pain and worry to leave her comely face. But her body stiffened as he drew closer and her full lips tightened. She hastily erected an invisible wall between them, shutting him out.

He could understand why. He was the one who said he needed distance, and she was giving him exactly what he asked.

“So I guess Carl told you what happened,” she said flatly.

He took the seat beside her and nodded. “He knows to call me if anything goes wrong.”

But
you
should have called me, Dawn—not the housekeeper, and I'm pissed that you didn't,
Xavier wanted to say, but bit back those words.

“Are you here by yourself?” he asked instead.

“My sisters came through about an hour ago, but they had to get back home.” Dawn wiped at her nose with a balled-up tissue that looked like it was already covered with mascara and a great deal of her tears. “I asked Carl to tell Constance and Raquel what happened too. They weren't there with Herb when he . . .” Her voice drifted off, like it was too painful to finish. She closed her eyes, waited for a beat, and opened them again. “I have no idea where they are.”

“They're away in St. Thomas. They won't be back until the day after tomorrow.”

“Well, isn't that nice?” Dawn said bitterly. “Herb's sick in the ICU while his wife and daughter are sunning on a beach in the Caribbean.”

“They planned this trip a year ago,” Xavier said quietly, quickly coming to his fiancée's defense. He had done it for so long, he now did it as a reflex. “There's no way they could have known that—”

“Stop!” She held up a hand. “Just . . . just stop, OK? Forget I said anything. I'm tired of arguing with you. I'm tired of being angry at them. I'm . . . I'm just tired, Xavier.” She dropped her head into her hands. “I've been here for hours waiting to hear news about Herb, and so far, I haven't heard a damn thing! What the hell is happening in there?” Her eyes pooled with tears. “Why won't anyone tell me what's going on? Damn it,” she muttered, turning away from him again. She dabbed at her eyes. “I'm so fucking sick and tired of crying!”

Xavier instantly reached out to touch her, but drew back his hand before it rested on her shoulder. He wanted to touch her so badly that his hand itched, but it was obvious she didn't want him to do it. Her body practically radiated the message.

Suddenly, a doctor wearing a white lab coat and blue scrubs walked toward them. He was a short man with a slight build. The doctor's pale, wrinkled face was taut with stress as he frowned. The brown eyes behind the lenses of his wire-framed glasses looked weary. It was hard to believe that Herb's life rested in this diminutive man's hands.

“Hello, I'm Dr. Kennedy. Are you Mr. Allen's daughter?”

Dawn took a deep breath and nodded. “Yeah! I mean, yes . . . yes, I am. I'm Dawn Gibbons.”

The doctor glanced at Xavier, who sat silently at her side. “I'm sorry. And you are . . .”

“His son-in-law,” she answered quickly, gently patting Xavier on the knee.

Xavier didn't let the opportunity go to waste. He laid his hand over hers and squeezed it reassuringly. He felt her stiffen at his touch, but she didn't pull back.

The doctor nodded at them both. “Well, I wanted to give you an update on Mr. Allen.”

“Please tell me he's OK, Dr. Kennedy,” Dawn whispered.

“He's in stable condition for now. He was awake, though not very lucid. We've since sedated him. I understand that your father hasn't been responding well to his cancer treatments.”

“No,” she said softly, lowering her eyes. “No, he hasn't.”

“In addition to the adverse side effects to his radiation therapy, like the fatigue he's been experiencing and the shortness of breath, I'm afraid he
is
starting to experience some of the end-stage cancer symptoms.”

Xavier squinted.
“Meaning?”

“Meaning that our priority right now is pain management. I've consulted with his doctor, and at this point, we can't do much more than that for him, but we do want to make him as comfortable as possible.”

“Because he's going to die,” Dawn finished for the doctor. Her eyes started to water again. “That's why you're making him comfortable, because he's going to die?”

The doctor pursed his lips. “I'm very sorry, Ms. Gibbons.”

“He knew his time was near. He told me. I just hoped he was . . . he was wrong.” A tear trickled down her cheek and Xavier squeezed her hand again. She took a deep breath.

“Can we go and see him now, Doctor?” Xavier asked.

“Yes, you and your wife can see him, by all means.”

“We're not marr—” Dawn stopped herself then glanced at Xavier.

She was going to correct the doctor by telling him she wasn't Xavier's wife, but for some reason, thought better of it. “Umm, th-thank you, D-doctor,” she said.

“Just be aware that your father probably won't be able to respond because of the pain meds we gave him. But he can hear you.”

She nodded again.

Minutes later, she and Xavier trudged down the hall to Herbert's hospital room. Xavier had always hated the smell of hospitals: the overpowering mix of the antiseptic liquid the staff used to sterilize instruments and spaces, and the lingering scent of sickness that floated from the poor souls inside each room. The couple finally reached Herb's private room and stepped inside. Seeing Herb, Xavier breathed in audibly. Dawn's hand instantly clamped over her mouth and she wept.

The tan curtain around his bed was drawn back. The older man was hooked up to an IV and respirator. A hypnotic beep filled the room though Xavier couldn't determine the source. A washable plastic clipboard was slung over the foot of the bed. Another was attached to the wall with Herbert's name and the name of the nurse who was doing the seven p.m. to seven a.m. shift. She was probably the one who shuffled out of the room with her head bowed when Xavier and Dawn entered.

Xavier found it hard to believe this was the same man who had been smoking cigars and laughing behind his immense office desk a few years ago. This man looked tiny, old, and shriveled. He looked only a foot away from death's door.

Xavier's father, Malcolm, had had the same look more than a decade ago. Xavier remembered his lifeless body slumped back on the passenger seat of his Ford truck, how the last breath had rattled out of Malcolm's chest before he closed his eyes and his mouth went slack. The once-powerful man who had been the compass in Xavier's life, the ground beneath his feet, had suddenly been taken away. As Xavier gazed at Herb, that feeling of loss and anguish overwhelmed him all over again.

Dawn slowly crept to Herb's bed. Her shoulders shook as she sobbed.

“Herb?” she choked.

Herb didn't respond, just as the doctor had warned them he wouldn't. The hypnotic beeping continued. Besides her crying, it was the only sound in the hospital room.

“Herb?” She placed her hand on Herb's and rubbed it. “Herb, if you can hear me, we're okay now. All right?” She wiped at her tears with the back of her free hand. “You
are
worthy of being called my dad. I swear. Whatever happened in the past is forgotten. I forgive you . . . and I love you. You're the first man I ever truly loved.”

She leaned down and kissed Herb's forehead. Tears spilled from her eyes onto Herbert's gray, dry skin. “Good-bye, Dad.”

Xavier knew she didn't want to be touched, but he couldn't take it anymore. He had been by himself when he lost his father—a teenage boy left sobbing and moaning on the side of the road with no one to comfort him. He wouldn't let her endure the same thing. He walked across the hospital room and gently laid his hands on her shoulders.

She turned to him and shook her head in response. “Please, just leave me alone, OK?”

She shoved him away and swiftly walked across the hospital room and out the door.

“Dawn, let me drive you home,” Xavier called after her as he followed her through the hospital lobby's automatic doors. The instant he stepped outside, he was met by the cold chill of the March evening and Dawn's even colder glare.

“Why the hell are you still here?” she snapped, striding away from him. She tugged on her wool coat. The sound of her high-heeled boots echoed off the cement as she walked. “Didn't you hear me back in the hospital room? What part of ‘leave me alone' did you not understand? I don't need you to drive me home! I can drive my goddamn self!”

She shoved her hand into her purse and pulled out her keys, but she was trembling so much they slipped from her fingers and fell to the ground with a clatter.

“Look at you!” He leaned down and grabbed her car keys. “Look at how much you're shaking! You can't drive yourself home!”

“Don't tell me what I can't do!” she shouted, reaching for her keys. But he held them out of her grasp. She reached for them again, but he dropped them into his coat pocket.

“I'm not letting you drive in the state you're in. Herb wouldn't want me to either!”

Her face settled into a scowl. “Fine,” she muttered defiantly. “I'll take a cab or call one of my sisters.”

“Why are you going to take a cab?” he shouted after her in disbelief as she strode off.

Xavier continued to follow her. She was angry. She was stubborn. She was winding him into a tight ball of frustration, but he wouldn't give up. He couldn't leave her alone—not tonight. He could see she was hurting.

He watched as she reached into her purse again to pull out her cell phone. She started to dial a number. He grabbed her shoulders and whipped her around to face him.

“Damn it, would you listen to me? Why call your sisters when I'm right here? Let me—”

“Because I don't want you here!” She shoved him away again. “I don't
need
you here! My name isn't Constance! I can take care of myself! So just leave me the fuck alone!”

She continued toward the end of the block. A white cab rounded the corner and she waved her gloved hand to signal it. Xavier's heart leapt into his throat. He ran to where the cab was skidding to a halt in the slush and snow.

He reached Dawn just as she swung open the cab door and began to climb inside. He grabbed her wrist and she looked up at him in surprise then rolled her eyes in aggravation.

“God damn it, Xavier! What do I—”

“I'm not trying to rescue you! I don't want to take you home because I've got a hero complex! I want to be with you! If anyone is with you tonight, I want it to be me!”

Dawn fell silent.

The driver leaned over the seat divider and lowered the passenger-side window. “Hey,” he shouted, “lady, are you getting in or what?”

She turned toward the cab driver. “Uh, yeah, I-I am. I just—”

“Constance is my fiancée, and
you're
the one I can't stop thinking about!” Xavier continued, pleading his case, feeling as if it was the most important case in his life. “You make me question the woman I'm with, the life I have, what I want in the future—
all of it!
And yes, I'm a pain in the ass! Yes, I chase after you and then I push you away. I know it doesn't make any sense. But it's because I can't let you go, Dawn!” He looked down at the hand he had firmly wrapped around her wrist as evidence.

“Hey, lady!” the driver bellowed. “In or out?”

She looked at the driver then Xavier. He could see the apprehension on her face. She wasn't sure what to do next.