Rescue Me (a quirky romance novel about secrets, forgiveness and falling in love) (24 page)

She closed her eyes and clung to him, feeling the rise and fall of his chest. Her head lay on his shoulder, and she could smell the tang of after-shave on his neck. "I'll miss you, too," she whispered, swallowing a lump in her throat. "You are so special. If only things were different."

"Different."

She backed away, avoiding his gaze. "I should probably get to the gate."

"Okay." He sounded breathless.

She looked at him, her heart heavy as she spied the sadness in his eyes. She could kiss those eyes, those lips, that wonderful face. "Thanks for everything. Take care of Heidi for me, won't you?"

"I will."

"Bye." She stood, lifted her carry on and slipped it on her shoulder. After one lingering look at him, burning his image into her mind, she walked away.

The smell of smog, an odor Hailey would never forget, welcomed her home as she stepped outside of the airport and waited for the shuttle to her car. She'd finally returned to the real world.

But, she wondered how much of her life would be the same.

As she rode the bus, she watched the traffic clogged roads and buildings surrounding the airport pass, certain none of them had changed. The weather was the same--warm and sunny. Haze hung over the city like it always did. But that familiar introduction to California wasn't enough to settle her nerves.

She decided, as she tossed her bag onto the back seat and slipped behind the steering wheel, she'd go home first, get cleaned up and rest for a few minutes before heading up to the shelter.

The drive took much longer than she had patience for. Detroit's traffic had been bad, but nothing like this. This was enough to make a person batty.

Once home, she hobbled to her front door. When she slid her key into the lock, the deadbolt opened of its own accord, and before she had her key pulled free from the lock, the door fell open.

Pete stood on the other side, smiling, but looking like he didn't mean it. "Welcome home," he said with false enthusiasm.

"Thanks. I wasn't expecting such a...a personal welcome." She glanced around the living room as she stepped inside, feeling like it was a foreign place. "Who's at the shelter?"

"Andrew and Amy are handling things."

She tossed her purse on the coffee table. "I left my suitcases outside. I'll go get them and then you can tell me what's been going on since I left."

"Okay."

She returned a moment later, suitcase in hand. "Now, what's happened?"

He motioned toward the couch. "You're limping. What's wrong?"

"I'm fine." She eased herself onto the sofa.

He didn't look thrilled with her answer. He sat on the chair opposite her, and she could tell from his grim expression she wasn't going to like what he had to tell her. "I've been working on the marine rescue property deal with Nancy, but so far the individual involved isn't ready to budge."

"I didn't expect a miracle on that front," she said, hiding the resurfaced sting of disappointment. "On the phone, you said we stand no chance of winning?"

"It's highly unlikely. The individual in question is his wife."

"Oh." Her gut knotted.

"It seems our friend Mr. Hampton rewrote his will a few weeks before his death and wrote his wife completely out."

"I didn't even know there was a Mrs. Hampton."

"I guess they've been estranged for years. But rumor has it he'd always promised to take care of her when he died--if she didn't divorce him."

"What a pitiful marriage. Why didn't he want to divorce her?"

He shrugged. "Money, I guess."

She felt like the wind was knocked out of her. Without the land, the marine rescue wasn't possible. "Do we just give up? Contact the contributors and offer them their money back or ask for their permission to funnel it into the shelter?"

Pete leaned forward and scrutinized her. "Are you all right? You're mighty pale."

"I'm fine. Just tired. Defeated, you know?"

"Will you tell me about the surgery?"

"Maybe later."

He nodded.

"Why don't you go to the shelter? I need to shower and rest for a few. I'll be in later."

After Pete left, she went to the bathroom, cranked on the hot water until the room was steamy and stepped in. She set the showerhead to massage, and let the water beat against her back and head. Still, she felt ill. Achy, exhausted, confused, and lonely.

After being battered by water for at least a half hour--until the sting faded to warmth--she shut off the tap, wrapped herself in a towel and left the foggy bathroom to get dressed.

When she entered her room, she scanned it, like she expected something to be different. How could everything change, and yet, so much remain the same? Her world was upside down. Why didn't everything look different?

Once she sat on the bed, the tears she'd held back busted loose. She cried until her head throbbed in rhythm with her hips.

Her soul cleansed, her spirit patched together with bits of hope and memories of Rainer, she faced her life, one day at a time. Her work at the shelter became both her prison and her escape, one day melding into another. Days and nights blending. Hours droning.

She spent every waking hour looking for ways to drag her dream from the quagmire of impossibility, but with each passing day, the marine rescue became a more remote possibility.

Nightly, thoughts of Rainer and Heidi haunted her as she lay in bed. She couldn't sleep. She couldn't eat. After weeks of misery, she acquiesced. It was time to take action. It was time to face her fears head-on and look to the future, whatever it held.

"This is a nightmare!" Margaret said. "Do what you have to. It's your fault." Her words clubbed Rainer as he stood outside the hospital, wishing the blustering wind would pierce the haze shrouding him since Hailey had left.

"I didn't cause anything."

"You brought her here. The sister Heidi hates! You know how delicate Heidi's condition has been. And you know how she feels about Hailey. Why would you do such a thing?"

"Heidi loves Hailey."

"You know better than that. Don't play stupid," the woman growled.

"I'm not playing anything. Heidi and I have talked about it. She needs to make peace with Hailey. She knows deep down she still loves her sister."

"You're in dreamland."

"I'm being realistic and level headed."

She laughed. "Realistic and level headed? That's what you call your behavior? You haven't been either for months. Heidi doesn't want to reconcile with that woman."

"You don't know what she wants."

"No. You need to face some hard facts, mister. Thanks to you, she's miserable. Go in there and make this right."

He ran his palms over his face. He'd brought Hailey because he knew how it felt to have regrets--the kind you can never overcome. Why was Heidi reacting this way? So unreasonable, especially after the apparent offense. He wasn't used to her being so closed-minded.

A part of him bristled at Margaret's condescending tone, yet he refused to get angry. That would accomplish nothing. "I'll talk to her," he said.

"Good."

When he returned to Heidi's room, her chilly stare gave rise to even greater reservations. "Hi," he said, his voice sounding strange in the silence.

"What are you doing here?"

"I wanted to apologize."

She looked away and shook her head. "I've had enough empty apologies for a lifetime. Just leave, Rainer."

"I want to talk about this."

"What's to talk about? You brought that...person here without my consent. She's a viper. I told you I wanted nothing to do with her."

His heart shuddered at the sound of the contempt in her voice. And then anger and frustration welled within. "First that was weeks ago. Second, we've been friends long enough to quit pretending. I'm not backing down. I know you. You don't want to leave your relationship with your sister like this."

"I regret telling you about her."

"You don't know the meaning of the word regret."

She looked at him incredulously. "I can't believe this! You're not the only person on earth who's suffered, you know."

"Quit with the self-pity, Heidi. It doesn't become you. You're stronger than this."

"I'm going to need the support of my friends and family. Why are you treating me like this? When I need you! You've changed."

"I haven't changed, you have. I'm not cutting myself off from you, you are forcing me away. I'm here. I've gone through hell for you. Why won't you take what I'm offering?"

"Offering? You've gone out of your way because you want to get into my sister's pants."

"That's not true. Where would you get an idea like that? I went to her because I didn't want to see you die without--"

"Am I going to die, Rainer?" she interrupted.

He wanted to club himself for saying that word. He couldn't backpedal now. "You could. Your doctor told you that."

"But you've never said it before. My oncologist is supposed to be cautious. But you..."

"I'm sorry."

"You believe it, then?" She studied his face for a moment, an unsteady hand lifting to adjust the scarf wrapped around her head before dropping to her lap. She looked toward the window. "Get me out of here."

"You can't leave yet. You need more time for your white cells count to--"

"Forget the damn cells, Rainer! I'm a whole human being, not a collection of tissues and organs. I can't stay here any longer." Her lips quivered.

He sat on the bed and took her hand. The skin was cool and dry. So delicate. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have mentioned...shouldn't have said...but I won't apologize for bringing your sister here. I did that for you. For both of you."

"I don't understand. There is no way you did that for me. What do you get out of this--besides having my sister in your house for weeks? She stayed with you, didn't she? You, being the honorable host you are wouldn't dare make her stay in a hotel."

"She stayed with me, yes. But I'm not looking to get anything."

"Yes, you are."

"What do you think I got out of all this, except grief? I've neglected my own life--put it on hold to help you. I did it because I care."

"You did it because you get some strange rush out of controlling my life."

He stood up, shocked. "I've never tried to control you."

"You call it help, befriending, whatever. I call it obsessive."

"I didn't know you felt this way. Why didn't you tell me? You went on those trips, spent all those weekends with me. Why?"

She shrugged, appearing to second-guess what she'd said. "Maybe I felt sorry for you."

"Sorry?" If that wasn't the most pitiful thing he'd heard! "For what?"

"You don't have a life. You don't have any family or roots."

He stepped backward, wanting to tell her not to feel sorry for him. Pity, of all things! He didn't need her friendship if that was all it was.

But he couldn't say those things. She needed him, even if she was forcing him away. He sighed. What could he say? "Well, I don't need your pity any more than you need mine."

"What does that mean?"

"What I said. Neither of us needs sympathy. I'm assuming we're still friends, and you're lashing out at me out of frustration and exhaustion. So, I'll just leave for now. I'll be back tomorrow."

"But I meant what I said."

He nodded. "I know you did."

"Don't patronize me. If you're not going to lighten up with the control thing, then I don't want you to return. Ever. I'm an adult. I don't need a father. It's your decision." She crossed her arms over her chest.

"All right, then." He didn't know what else to say. The way he'd been with her--the way he'd helped her--that was the only way he knew to be. "Are you sure?"

"I'll be fine."

"But you need your friends and family. You said so yourself."

"I know, but I don't need someone who doesn't know when he's being a friend and when he's being an stalker. No offense, Rainer, but that's you."

"Stalker?" He took another step backward. No one had ever called him that. Meddling, yes. But stalker? "Don't you think you're exaggerating?"

"If you don't see the truth in what I've said, it's definitely time to go our separate ways."

This was not happening! His best friend. Just like that, shoving him from her life. When she needed him most. He knew cancer did strange things to patients and their families, but he'd never expected this.

He turned toward the door, so frustrated he could shout, so shocked he wanted to knock his head into the wall to make sure it wasn't a nightmare. He left the room determined to return. She didn't know her own mind. Once she felt better physically, she'd realize she made a mistake.

As he ripped the surgical mask from his face and tossed it into the trash, Margaret approached, her face full of questions. He turned away. "Heidi told me to leave. For good."