I Know Who Holds Tomorrow (6 page)

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Authors: Francis Ray

BOOK: I Know Who Holds Tomorrow
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When they arrived back at ICU five minutes before the last visiting hour was to begin, Vanessa was apologetic for taking up all the last visiting time and pleaded to go in first. After being with Manda, Madison felt sorry for Wes's parents and allowed them go in. The last visiting hour was only forty-five minutes.
Finally, the door opened and Wes's parents came out ten minutes before visiting hour would be over. Vanessa was crying softly. Madison rushed by them. A.J. was finally touching and hovering, as were Vanessa's friends who had followed her to the waiting area.
Aware of Zachary beside her, Madison walked to the bed and stared down at Wes. His bruises appeared more pronounced. Her finger gently stroked his cold hand. “Everything will be all right. Don't worry. Manda is all right, too. You have to get well so you can see her.”
His eyelashes fluttered, then lifted. Her finger stilled. “Wes. I'm here. Everything is going to be okay.”
His tongue came out to moisten his dry lips. His mouth worked for several seconds before words emerged, hushed and raspy. “P-promise me.”
Madison's heart leaped with joy. He was going to be all right. “I promise. We'll go to Chicago. I'll get a job there and it'll be the way it used to be. You'll see.”
With an effort he shook his head. “Something … e-else.”
Fearing that he would become agitated she rushed to reassure him. “Anything.”
“K-keep Manda.”
She blinked. She hadn't expected that, but having him talk to her was a good sign he was getting better. She'd promise him anything to get him well. “I promise. Just rest. Don't worry.” She blinked back tears.
“Z-Zach?” Wes rasped.
“I'm here.” Zachary leaned his face closer to Wes's. “Just rest. Save your strength.”
Wes struggled to speak. His gaze clung to Zachary's. “R-remember … you promised.”
“I remember. Don't worry,” Zachary assured, his voice thick, his hand clamped around the bed rail.
Wes seemed to relax, his eyes closing, then suddenly his eyelids shot upward. The alarm sounded on the heart monitor. He gasped, then gasped again. He didn't seem to be able to catch his breath.
“Wes!” Madison cried.
“Nurse!” Zachary yelled, but they were already running into the room.
“What's happening? Please tell me what's happening!” Madison begged.
One nurse began adjusting the bed rail. Another listened to his chest with a stethoscope. “Please leave.”
“No, I'm not leaving.” She wanted to go to Wes, but Zachary held her back. “I'm not leaving him. Wes!”
He gasped, struggled to speak.
Wrenching away from Zachary, Madison rushed back to the bed. “Wes, what is it?”
“Mine. M-Manda … my child.”
Madison jerked upward. “Wh-what?”
“M-Manda's mine.”
Dr. London came barreling though the door. “Get them out of here!”
The beeping went into a long, eerie wails. “Code blue!”
Someone pushed them outside. People ran past them. The curtains were jerked closed. Madison was unable to make her legs move any farther. Surely she had misunderstood him. He hadn't said what she thought he had. As soon as he was all right, he'd explain.
Zachary kept his eyes on the door of the room. Through the thin partition of glass he could hear Dr. London shouting orders. Zachary's clenched his fists. “Fight, Wes, you can beat this. There's never been anything you couldn't do when you set your mind to it.”
He kept that thought for what seemed like an eternity until the door opened and Dr. London came out. Shoulders slumped, his face tired, he approached Madison. “Mrs. Reed, I'm sorry. We did everything we could. We're going to have to call it.”
“What?” She blinked, finally drawing her fixed gaze away from the door to Wes's room. “Call what?”
“He's gone,” Dr. London said.
“Gone? He can't be gone! We were just talking,” she said, as tears slid down her cheeks. “He was trying to tell me something and he got it all mixed up.”
“We've done everything we could. His heart is just not responding. There's nothing on the monitor.”
Madison wildly shook her head. “No! You have to go back in there and keep trying.”
“Perhaps you'd like to lie down,” Dr. London suggested, reaching toward her arm.
Madison drew her arm out of his reach and stepped back on wobbly legs. Her chest felt like it was being squeezed by a giant fist. “I don't want to lie down! I want to talk to my husband! Why can't you understand that?”
Zachary heard the hysteria rising in her voice, and clamped down on his own grief. “Dr. London, his parents are outside. Would you please tell them? I'll stay with Madison.”
“All right,” Dr. London said; his voice sounded as tired as he looked. “I'm sorry. I'm going back inside to call the code as over, then I'll go speak to his parents.” He went back into the room, then came back out moments
later and walked toward the waiting room. A man pushing a big metal cart with multiple compartments came out directly behind him. So did two other people.
“What are they doing?” Madison cried. “They have to go back in there and help Wes!”
Zachary placed his hand gently on her arm, felt the shivers that raced over her slim body. “Come on, Madison. Let's get out of here.”
“No, I'm not leaving.” She stared up at him with dazed eyes. “I have to talk with Wes.”
His other hand closed around her other forearm. “Wes is gone, Madison. You can't talk with him,” he told her, speaking the most difficult words in his life.
She shook her head from side to side. “You're wrong! He has to tell me the truth.”
“He already has, Madison. Wes was Manda's father.”
M
ADISON RECOILED. ZACHARY'S WORDS were like a punch to the gut. She wanted to deny Wes's confession, but couldn't. No man so gravely injured would claim a child that wasn't his. Her eyes shut tightly. The extent of Wes's betrayal clawed its way through the disbelief and grief. While they were married, Wes had slept with another woman and had a child.
“Madison.”
Her eyes snapped open. They blazed with anger. “Let me go!”
Zachary gazed down into her features ravaged with shock and anguish, then slowly uncurled his fingers from around her arms. As soon as she was free, she turned to walk away.
“What about Manda?”
Madison flinched, but kept walking, forcing herself to put one foot in front of the other. She took another step, then swayed as a piercing cry came from beyond the door to the waiting area. Vanessa.
Madison shut her eyes, wishing she could shut out the grief pouring from Wes's mother. Shut out Wes's last words to her.
“Manda's mine.”
When she opened her eyes, Zachary stood in front of her.
“What about Manda?” he repeated.
She tried to go around him, but he stepped in her path. Rage ripped though her grief. “How can you ask me that?”
“Manda lost, too. She lost a mother and a father.”
The reminder almost caused Madison's trembling knees to buckle. “She's not my responsibility.”
“What about your promise?” he pushed.
Her hands clenched. “Wes promised something, too,” she said referring to their marriage vows. “Now, please let me pass.”
Zachary hated that he had to push her, but he didn't have a choice. Somehow he had to get through to her. “I know you're hurting and angry, but you heard the nurse. If you don't take her, she'll go into foster care. You're not that heartless.”
His words pricked her, but not in the way he'd intended. “Yes. Good old Madison. She'll take anything.” How could Wes have done this to her?
“Mad—”
“No!” she shouted, cutting him off, unaware that the nurses and visitors who had given them privacy were all watching and listening. “I don't want anything to do with her. She's not my responsibility and nothing you can say will change my mind.”
She was near the breaking point, Zachary noted. She was hanging by her fingernails. If he pushed any further, she'd crack. “Come on, I'll take you home.”
“I—”
“I'm just driving you home,” he assured her calmly. “You don't have your car, remember?”
She remembered. Too much. She was tired. So tired.
Gently, his arm curved around her shoulder, drawing her closer to him as he led her out of the room, aware that he was leaving Wes. His throat ached. He wasn't ashamed to cry. There would be time enough for tears later. Now, Madison and Manda needed him. He had made a promise, too.
 
 
Zachary located his truck exactly where the security guard, Ronald Jones, had said he parked it. After learning the situation, Ronald had parked the Dakota in the next available parking spot, then brought Zachary the keys and the change of clothes he always kept in the truck. Ronald had waited patiently while Zachary cleaned up, then took the soiled clothes back to the truck. He'd politely refused Zachary's offer of money.
Keeping one hand on Madison's arm, Zachary opened the door with
the other. Head down, as it had been since they left ICU, Madison stepped onto the running board but didn't seem to have the strength to pull herself up.
“Let me help you.” Placing both hands around her slim waist, he lifted her into the seat, then scooted her legs around. It was on the tip of his tongue to ask if she was all right, then he realized what a stupid question that was. “I'll call Gordon. He'll know how to contact your family.”
Her eyes shut tightly, she leaned over farther in the seat. He felt helpless in the face of her grief. Pulling a handkerchief from his back pocket, he pressed it into her loosely clasped hands and closed the door. As long as he could remember, his mother had always insisted he have a handkerchief in his pocket. A gentleman, in her opinion, should always carry one. He might be thirty-five, but he hadn't gotten out of the habit.
Unhooking the cell phone from his belt, he activated it, then using the bright lights from the overhead security lights in the emergency room parking area, he read Gordon's number, then keyed it in. It was picked up on the second ring.
“Yes.”
Zachary didn't have to ask if this was Gordon. He recognized his voice, but he was struggling with his own.
“Madison, is that you?” Gordon asked, his tone rising in anxiety.
Zachary sucked in a gulp of air and leaned against the back end of the truck. “It's Zach. Wes … Wes didn't make it.”
“Oh, God. How's Madi—Never mind. Where is she?”
From the cadence of Gordon, voice Zachary could tell he was moving. “With me in the emergency-room parking lot. I'm taking her home.”
“I'll be waiting for you when you get there.”
Zachary rubbed his hands across his face. “Do you know how to reach her family?”
“I'll take care of it.” The sound of a motor came through the phone. “You just take care of Madison.”
“See you.” Zachary answered, then flipped the phone closed. He wished he could promise to do that, but if it came down to Madison's well-being or Manda's, there would be no contest. Manda was not going into foster care.
 
 
Driving up to the manned guardhouse of the Legacy Estates in far North Dallas, Zachary identified himself, then drove through the ten-foot black iron gates past the splashing thirty-foot waterfall, then followed the curving two-lane road through the exclusive estate where homes ranged in price from a half a million to over five million. There were only twenty-one homes in the development and all were sold. Wes and Madison's sprawling, single-story house sat on a one-third—acre lot in a cul-de-sac.
Zachary saw Gordon pacing by his car the moment he turned into the long driveway lit by four antique gas yard lights Wes had had shipped from England. Zachary's hands clamped on the steering wheel. He could recall it all as if it were yesterday—Wes dragging him out here and telling Zachary his plans to build a showplace. Zachary was to be the builder. He wanted it to be single-story because he had lived in a two-story home growing up and damned if he was going to spend his time running up and down stairs again.
The Legacy Home Association had strict rules and regulations about the houses built there, but Wes had every confidence Zachary would meet and surpass their demands and expectations. He had and they'd celebrated with a beer. Two years. Two lousy years ago.
By the time he braked in front of the house, Gordon was there, opening the door. “Madison. Madison. It's Gordon.” Finally she looked at him, then tumbled into his arms. “It's all right. It's all right.”
Zachary felt helplessness wash over him again. He reached out to touch her as he had done with Manda, then jerked his hand back. What a mess.
One of the massive, recessed double doors opened and a diminutive woman came rushing out. Zachary remembered her as Gretchen, the housekeeper.
“I got her bed all ready, Mr. Armstrong. You bring her on in.”
Picking up Madison's purse, Zachary followed. The entryway was filled with African art and bronzes Wes had collected in his travels. Knowing the location of the master bedroom suite, Zachary was surprised when Gretchen entered the bedroom next to it. There was no door that connected them.
One look inside the room and he had his answer. Wes liked bold colors, and heavy furniture. The room, light and airy, was completely feminine: a luxurious mix of fabrics and accessories. A canopy bed was outfitted with an array of fluffy pillows, duvet, and adjustable reading lights on
either side of the padded headboard. At the foot of the bed was a padded bench in the same fabric as the headboard.
Colors from the deepest rose to the lightest mauve with just a hint of the palest green were repeated throughout the room. The wallpaper was a rose silk he'd put up himself. At the time he'd thought it was to be a guest room. Placing the purse on the small table just inside the door, he went back to the living room to wait.
Gordon joined him less than five minutes later and headed for the built-in bar. “I need a drink. How about you?”
“Scotch.”
“Wes's drink of choice.” Gordon opened the cabinet and pulled a crystal decanter from beneath. “It's hard anytime, but when it comes out of nowhere …”
Zachary walked over and leaned against the oak counter. “You call her parents yet?”
“On the way here.” Gordon pulled the stopper and poured a liberal portion in two squat crystal glasses. “I couldn't get them at their home so I called Dianne, Madison's older sister, and spoke with her husband, David. He'd stayed to keep their two little girls. Dianne and her parents left as soon as they could get a flight out. As it happened he was speaking with her at the time. She'd called from the plane to see if Madison had called back with any more news about Wes. He had to tell her Wes had died. He's flying out in the morning. His parents are coming to keep the girls.”
Gordon's hand fisted on the glass. “I can't imagine how difficult it was for David to tell Dianne or for her to hear such news or worse for her to tell her parents. They're a close family. They must be frantic to get to Madison. Their plane arrives at DFW within the hour.” Gordon took a hefty swallow of the amber liquid.
Zachary stared down at his own glass. He knew exactly how Dianne's husband had felt. He'd been the one to tell Wes that Manda's mother hadn't made it. Zachary's chest tight, he glanced up at Gordon's somber face. “I can pick them up if you'd like.”
“I'd appreciate it,” Gordon said, glancing toward the bedroom. “I don't want to leave Madison alone. Gretchen has been with them for a long time, but I'd feel better staying.”
“I'll wait until later to drink this.” Zachary pushed the glass away. “Do you have the flight information?”
Reaching into the breast pocket of his sports coat, Gordon drew out a white slip of paper and handed it to Zachary, along with his car keys. “Your truck won't seat them comfortably.”
Zachary glanced at the information, then stuffed it into his shirt pocket. “I'd better get going.”
“Wait.” Gordon picked up a silver picture frame from an end table and removed the picture. “Her parents. It will save you the trouble of having them paged.”
Zachary looked down at a good-looking couple on either side of Madison, who wore a wedding gown and a big smile. Zachary remembered the day and how happy she and Wes had been. “Do you think you should call a doctor to give her something?”
“I hope it doesn't come to that,” Gordon said, his voice tired. “Sooner or later she'll have to deal with Wes's death. A sedative might knock her out, but when she wakes up, she'll still have to face the problem. Madison is stronger than she looks.”
Zachary hoped Madison was as strong as Gordon thought. She'd need to be in order to deal with the loss of her husband, his betrayal, and his child by another woman. “I'll be back as soon as I can.”
Opening the door, he stepped out into the night. Overhead, the moon shone; he could hear the faint sound of traffic several streets over. Life went on.
 
 
Zachary arrived at DFW International Airport thirty minutes before Madison's family was due to arrive. Finding a quiet corner on the concourse, he pulled out his cell phone and dialed. His mother answered before the second ring.
“Hello.”
Her warm voice caused his throat to sting, moisture to form in his eyes. He could picture her sitting at her sewing machine or curled up on the sofa with a book. His father would either be sitting next to her reading the newspaper or at his scrupulously neat desk doing paperwork. They were as much in love as they had been when they married twenty-seven years ago, and, when possible, were never far apart. “Mama.”

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