Rescue Me (a quirky romance novel about secrets, forgiveness and falling in love) (13 page)

She jumped in the shower and dressed, sweeping her hair into a ponytail. Then she dashed through the living room to her phone, not stopping to admire the sight out the wide picture window like she did most mornings. Instead, as she scoured the phone book for her travel agent's phone number, she turned her back to the distant blue water and haze-covered morning sky, still tinged with pink and lavender.

She glanced at the clock. Six-thirty. Way too early to call the agency. She tried the direct number to the airline, hoping they had a twenty-four hour customer service department.

Bingo! She booked her flight and hung up.

Her next call would be to Pete, and she had no idea what she would tell him. They'd never discussed her family, and she'd liked it that way for a number of reasons. For one, she didn't want to explain what happened, since she was nearly at a loss to understand it all herself.

Besides, there was no time for chatting. Her flight left in less than three hours. She'd have only enough time to pack and get to the airport. It would take extra time since she'd be driving to the airport in the heart of rush hour.

Then she had a thought. Knowing him, he'd be at the shelter by now, getting the dogs ready for today's event. She could leave him a message on his home phone.

Chicken! She chastised herself. Gutless coward! She dialed his phone number, but hung up when his answering machine clicked on. She owed both Pete and Andrew at least a personal call--especially since she was leaving them on such a busy day.

"Hello? Paws and Claws," Andrew answered after two rings.

Hailey sat on the arm of her couch. "Andrew, it's me."

"Yeah, Hailey. What's up?"

"I've got an emergency. A family thing. I have to go out of town. Is Pete there yet?"

"Yeah, Pete's here. You want to talk to him?"

"In a minute. I just want to apologize. I hate to leave you guys like this --"

"Don’t worry about it. We can handle things here. You go. We'll be fine. Here's Pete."

"Hailey?" Pete's voice traveled to her ear, and she smiled, despite the turmoil she was in.

Every nerve and muscle in her body was tight, and she needed rush to the airport--despite knowing she had plenty of time. Nothing would go fast enough. "Pete. I have to go to Michigan. I'm sorry for leaving like this, with the adoption day today and the land thing."

"It's okay. You go, but keep in touch. I want to make sure you're all right. Promise?"

She sniffled. Her nose burned. "I promise. Thanks Pete."

"You're welcome. Just remember, I'm here if you need me."

"Okay. Bye."

"Goodbye, Hailey. Have a safe trip."

She hung up the phone before she felt too compelled to explain everything to him. She tossed some clothes into a suitcase and drove to the airport. As she boarded the plane, she had the strangest feeling she was leaving behind a part of herself, that her life would be dramatically different when she returned.

If she returned.

"Hailey, Hailey Jensen," she heard as she stepped through the security stop at Detroit Metro. Was she exhausted, delirious, hearing voices? She could swear she heard Rainer. Had he come to meet her? In a way, she hoped he had.

She scanned the sea of strange faces around her, some old, some young, female and male. No sign of him. "I'm losing it," she said, walking toward the escalator to luggage claim in the basement. As she stepped on the top stair, a gentle tug at her elbow made her jump and turn, nearly sending her toppling down the moving stairs. "Rainer! You scared the hell outta me!"

He smiled and helped steady her. "Nice to see you, too."

"How did you find out what time--"

"I talked to Andrew."

Her heart thrummed in her chest. He didn't! What did he tell Andrew?

"Don't worry," he said, stepping off the escalator at the bottom. "I didn't tell him a thing, other than I was supposed to pick you up at the airport."

"I wasn't worried about that," she lied, trying hard to look carefree and casual. She scanned the television screen-like display for her flight number, then joined the crowd at the end of the long room. The carousel was still empty, and she grimaced. It was going to be a long day.

"Do you have a hotel room booked?" Rainer asked, standing beside her.

"Nope. I don't. Stupid, eh? I'll probably be stuck staying in some dump on Eight Mile."

"No you won't, and I would never call you stupid," he said, his voice sounding so earnest, she turned her head to look at him. His expression was as solemn as his voice.

Then she noticed how exhausted he looked. His rumpled clothes and slightly mussed hair reminded her of the last time she'd seen him. That awkward time when she'd been tempted to stay in the city she hated. That awkward time that still stirred memories and heat. "You look like hell."

"Well, I see you haven't changed."

"Me change? Never. What you see is what you get."

"I know better than that." Those words were no simple declaration. To Hailey, they sounded like a challenge.

"What's that supposed to mean?" she countered.

The belt started moving, and people gathered closer. Hailey moved into position at the end, wedging herself between an elderly woman with a cane and a woman her age with a child--a cute little girl she guessed was about three or four, wearing a denim baseball cap over her blond curls and a deep scowl. A pang of regret slammed her stomach.

Her child, also a girl, would be about that age now. She would probably have blond hair too.

How many times had she looked at a strange child and wondered what her child would have been like?

"Isn't that yours?"

Isn't what mine?

A nudge at her back returned her to the present. "That garment bag. Isn't that yours?" Rainer asked. He stood behind her, his breath warming the back of her neck.

"Oh, yeah," she mumbled, reaching, but knowing it was too late. She'd wait until it came around again.

But Rainer evidently wasn't so patient. He pushed past her and grabbed the bag's handle before it disappeared through the flapped doorway. Then, stepping back and apologizing to the people around them, he took Hailey's hand and said, "Ready to go? Or do you have more?"

"No. That's it." She absently squeezed his hand and followed him to the escalator.

He glanced over his shoulder, then released her hand. "Oh. Sorry. It's a habit."

"It's okay." And she meant that. She liked the way her small hand fit in his bigger one. Surprising, shocking, but true.

They walked the seeming miles to his car in silence, Hailey wishing he'd reach back and take her hand again, and attributing her strange reaction to exhaustion and her shaky emotional state. After they'd driven at least a half-hour, she asked, "How is Heidi?"

"When I saw her last, the antibiotics were doing the job. She was alert, pretty much herself. A little disoriented." He kept his eyes on the road, giving Hailey an opportunity to study the slant of his nose and jawbone and the hollow under his cheekbone.

"Disorientated?" Concern gripped her stomach, already woozy from the flight. "Is that normal?"

"Sometimes."

She didn't like the sound of that. "What's that mean?"

"Well, it all depends upon how a patient responds to the chemo. Like I said, she was okay when I saw her last. I think the worst is over--for now."

"Are you trying to make me feel better or worse?"

"I'm not trying to do either. I'm giving you information. Not too little to keep you in the dark, nor too much to make you worry about something that isn't likely to happen." He turned the car onto the main road leading to his home, and she realized the route had become familiar to her. Already. And when he pulled into the driveway, she felt like she'd come home.

She'd never felt that way about someone else's place. Even when she had been living with Gerald--the father of her child--in Sequoia Valley. No wonder that arrangement hadn't lasted long.

After Rainer parked the car, he hefted Hailey's garment bag from the back seat, then offered a hand as she climbed from the passenger seat. She thanked him with a smile, then followed him to the front door.

She hesitated at the little table in the foyer, momentarily swept back to the last time she'd stood there. Then, at the squeak of Rainer's weight on the steps, she walked forward, following him up the stairs to her room--correction, the guest room.

He set her bag down and returned to the hallway. "Are you ready to go to the hospital or would you like to freshen up first?"

"I'm fine. Let's go," she said, her nerves tying her stomach into one tight knot. Despite his reassurances that Heidi's condition had improved, she had to see her for herself. She had to be there, even if Heidi refused to see her.

They drove to the hospital in relative quiet, Hailey's stomach so upset she feared opening her mouth. Her only comfort was in knowing she hadn't eaten a bite all day. She couldn't vomit if she had an empty stomach.

This was it. She was going to see her sister, and maybe the rest of her family. She felt like she was about to face a firing squad. Would Heidi confront her? Yell and scream? Greet her with stony silence? Or worse yet, greet her with a fake smile and pretend like nothing had happened?

Or what if Heidi was so sick, she couldn't even acknowledge her?

Hailey cracked open the window and fresh air howled through the opening. "It's hot in here."

"Are you okay?"

The remaining drive was silent and torturous, but when it was over, and they were parking the car, Hailey wished it hadn't passed so quickly. While they walked through the lobby, rode the elevator, and followed the labyrinth of corridors to Heidi's room, Hailey grew increasingly nervous. She had no idea what she would say.

She followed Rainer as he stepped toward a nurse's station situated near the umpteenth pair of double doors they'd passed through, and waited as he spoke to a nurse. He'd stepped aside, and spoke in hushed whispers. She couldn't make out what he was saying, but his expression was grim--his mouth drawn into a thin line.

"She's not in her room right now," he said, returning to her side.

"Where is she?"

"Getting some tests done. The nurse said she should be returning in about an hour. Would you like to go to the cafeteria, or would you prefer waiting down the hall?"

"The cafeteria, I guess." A part of her was relieved for the moment, but another frustrated. In a way she just wanted to get this over with.

She followed his lead, meeting his gait stride for stride. He always walked with such purpose, she reflected. Like everything he did. She respected that about him.

They went through the cafeteria line. She chose tea, he coffee, and they sat in a quiet but sun-filled corner where two floor-to-ceiling windows met.

"Are you sure you don't want anything to eat?" he asked, looking worried. "You had a long flight--must be hungry."

"No, thanks. If I eat, I'll puke."

He grimaced. "The flight?"

"Yeah, I get motion sick. Sorry, I guess I could have used more delicate language."

"It's okay. Believe me, when I was in med school, we used more disgusting words than that to make each other sick."

She sipped her tea, relishing its warmth and tangy citrus flavor. "Where'd you go to school?"

"U. of M."

"You did? Wow. Great school. Did you grow up around here?"

"I moved to the Ann Arbor area when I was about twelve."

When he didn’t elaborate, she nodded and took another sip. What was he not telling her? For some reason, she wanted to know what he was all about, what kind of kid he'd been. What his favorite games had been. For the time being, the distraction was welcome. "What is your earliest memory?"

"I remember my dad holding me when I was maybe two or three. My memories of early childhood are pretty sparse."

"Mine too." Their gazes met, their eyes locked and a flush heated her face. What was going on here? She felt so awkward and self-conscious. "Maybe you can tell me what's next with Heidi's treatment."

With a shrug, he said, "Sure. Assuming the infection is under control, and the chemo continues, she has just under a week of chemo left, and then we'll harvest your stem cells and inject them in Heidi. After that, it's more or less a matter of waiting to see how her body reacts--how long it takes for the cells to begin producing blood cells."

"Once that begins, is she out of the woods?"

"I can't say for sure, no one can. She isn't truly out of the woods until she hits the five-year mark. If she's cancer-free after five years, you can be fairly certain she's whipped it."

Hailey nodded, suddenly desperate to think about something else--anything else. Despite the passage of time, and the easing of the initial shock, it was still hard to think of Heidi so sick--and even harder to imagine her gone.

"How did you meet Heidi? Were you doctor-patient first or friends?"