Stone, Katherine (30 page)

But the caller wasn't Juliana. It was Sam. Garrett's answering service
in Dallas had provided the number in Hong Kong where Garrett could be reached.

"There's been an accident, Garrett. Allison has internal
injuries that require emergency surgery. She's on her way to the operating room
now. The doctors believe it's essential she be given blood."

"She
can't
be given blood, not unless it's tested
first. Her doctor in Dallas—"

"There's no time. Allison needs to be transfused immediately.
Maylene is here. She's offered to donate her blood."

"Oh, Sam." Garrett's whisper held love—and worry—for
both his daughters.

"Maylene wants to do this, Garrett. And the doctors agree
it's Allison's best chance."

Doctor
Lau's face was so grave Maylene felt her sister's death before the
doctor spoke.

"Allison accepted your blood as if it were her own."

Already lost in grief, it took Maylene several moments to hear the
words. "She did? But... it was too late? She... died... anyway?"

"Allison's alive, and the bleeding has stopped, but her heart
is still failing."

"She needs more blood."

"Yes."

Maylene extended her slender white arms, palms up. "Then
take
more!"

"According to hospital policy, we're not permitted to obtain
more than one unit per week from any donor."

Even as the doctor dutifully reiterated the policy, her expression
was hopeful. By giving Allison blood despite the medical alert bracelet she
wore, she'd already broken far more stringent rules.

"Take my blood, Dr. Lau. Take as much as you need—as much as
Allison needs."

Without hesitation, Pamela Lau prepared Maylene's arm for its
second assault with a large bore needle. The needle was larger than that
customarily used for blood donations. Maylene's blood needed to be collected as
quickly as possible.

Once the needle was secured and the blood was flowing, Pamela
said, "Both Mr. Drake and Mr. Coulter would like to see you. And, Maylene,
your father is here. He wants very much to see you, too."

"My father? He's
here?"

"Apparently he arrived late last night."

"He—they—don't know where I am, do they?"

"No, they don't know." Dr. Lau had respected Maylene's
wish for privacy while she waited to hear if her blood had been lethal or
lifesaving for her sister. "But your blood's compatible with Allison's,
and with this next transfusion I believe she'll be out of danger—so isn't it
time for you to see them? They're all quite eager to see you."

"No. Not yet. Please."

***

When Dr. Lau returned an hour later, she was smiling.

"Your sister's heart rate has slowed dramatically." Her
fingers curled instinctively around Maylene's wrist. "In fact, her pulse
is stronger—and much less rapid—than yours."

"She's going to be all right?"

"She's going to be fine. Now, there are three men who want to
see you."

Maylene shook her head, a gesture that caused waves of dizziness,
a reminder of her own loss of blood.

"These are determined men, Maylene," Dr. Lau said.
"So far, they've been honorable about not following me. But next
time—"

"There won't
be
a next time." Maylene sat up, too
quickly. Everything whirled. "I'm leaving."

"You're in no condition to go anywhere. You've had
significant blood loss. It may have happened in a hospital, but that makes no
difference to your body. The trauma feels the same. I want you on bed rest and
IVs overnight."

"I've donated blood before," Maylene said, willing her
fingers not to tremble as she pulled at the edges of the tape securing her
intravenous line.

Pamela Lau put her light-gold fingers on top of Maylene's pale
white ones. "This wasn't a typical blood donation."

"No." Maylene smiled. "It wasn't." Her frown
returned. "I need to go. Please. I won't go far, and I'll call you when I
get there, and if you give me iron pills, I'll take a handful of them and put
myself on strict bed rest."

The doctor sensed, correctly, that Maylene was going to leave with
or without her blessing. "Where will you go?"

Maylene considered her apartment at the Trade Winds and rejected
it. They'd look for her there. And the Hilton was closer. She'd be nearby, in
case Allison needed more blood.

"I'll be across the street at the Hilton." Maylene
paused, remembered the determined men who might look for her, and decided she
needed another name. I already have another name, she realized, the name my
sister gave me. It was the right name, too, the perfect name. She'd been
searching for where she belonged. Maybe, maybe, she was getting ever closer to
home. "I'll register as Dorothy."

"Dorothy who?"

Yesterday Maylene might not have recalled the last name of the
fictional heroine of
The Wizard of Oz.
Now it came to her. And it, too,
was perfect. On this night, when Hong Kong was being assaulted by powerful
winter winds, and when Maylene herself felt a swirl of emotions, what better
name could there be?

"Gale," she replied. "I'll be registered as Dorothy
Gale."

***

After calling Dr. Lau to report she'd made it to her room at the
Hilton, Maylene reached for the Hong Kong telephone directory. She knew there
was a listing for J. Kwan on Mount Cameron Road. The discovery had been made
months ago, shortly after her return to Hong Kong, but Maylene had allowed
herself only a quick glance at her mother's number. She feared if she memorized
it, long before the time was right, she might dial it.

Tonight's message was quite different from the one she
would—someday soon—find the courage to speak. Juliana wouldn't even be home.
She was at the Coliseum. Maylene would leave a message on her mother's
answering machine, assuming Juliana had one.

The machine picked up on the fourth ring. As she heard the
hopefulness in Juliana's recorded voice, imploring the caller to leave a
message, please, Maylene wondered if the machine was new. Acquired since June,
perhaps? In the event her daughter called, so the long-awaited moment wouldn't
be lost?

The thought stole from Maylene the calm with which she'd planned
to deliver her message.

Her words came haltingly. Emotionally.

"Mother... it's me. I know you're at the Coliseum, but when
you return home, if you turn on the news, you'll hear about Allison. She's
fine.
There was an accident, but everything's all right. Well, not completely all
right. Garrett Whitaker is in Hong Kong, and he's probably
very
angry. I
gave Allison my blood, you see, and because of that... Mother, he knows I know
Allison's my sister. I know how you feel about him, but don't go to the
hospital,
please."
That, in essence, was what Maylene had called to
say, a warning to Juliana that Garrett Whitaker was in Hong Kong and was
undoubtedly furious his secret had been revealed. But there hadn't yet been a
beep signaling her time was up, and the hopefulness in her mother's recorded
voice still echoed within her. "Mother?
I'm so sorry."

***

While Allison and Maylene slept, gaining strength, the storm in
the South China Sea gained strength as well. By noon on Saturday, the people of
Hong Kong were told to brace themselves for the most powerful typhoon in more
than three decades. The residents of Kowloon received a special warning.
According to the storm-tracking system, landfall was expected shortly before
midnight at the peninsula's southernmost tip—or, to be precise, the Jade
Palace.

Maylene awakened, disoriented, at two Saturday afternoon. She'd
been asleep for nearly eighteen hours, a dreamless and uninterrupted sleep.
Fumbling for the bedside phone, she dialed the hospital and requested that Dr.
Lau be paged.

"It's Maylene," she said when the doctor came on the
line. "Is Allison all right?"

"Yes. She's a little groggy, which is to be expected, but
she's fine—out of danger. How are
you?"

Maylene's blood loss-related symptoms hadn't exactly gone away.
And there was a new one, a gnawing ache that resulted from the handful of iron
pills she'd taken on an empty stomach. Inconsequential symptoms all.

"A little groggy, but fine," she replied. Like my
sister.

"May I tell them that? It didn't take long for them to figure
out you'd left the hospital, and they've been worrying."

"Please tell them not to worry," Maylene said, wondering
who "they" were—and who among them actually worried about her
welfare. James? Yes, her future brother-in-law would definitely care. And
Garrett Whitaker
might.
It would be concern for her secret, though, not
for her. And Sam? He wouldn't even be among the "they" at the
hospital. It was Saturday afternoon. His flight to Texas had left hours ago.
"Mr. Coulter is gone, isn't he?"

"He left last night, shortly after deciding you were no
longer in the hospital. But Mr. Drake and your fath—"

"Please tell them I'm fine," Maylene interjected.
"I just need a little more rest... and privacy."

"I hope you'll stay right where you are until the typhoon
passes."

"The
typhoon?"

As Maylene learned about the devastating winds howling toward Hong
Kong, and where they were expected to inflict their greatest violence, her
dizziness was forgotten—as were, for the moment, the journeys she'd make when
she was stronger: to her mother, her sister, perhaps her father.

Her family was safe, far from the typhoon's deadly path.

And where would Dorothy be during the raging storm? The answer
came with a sense of peace. For the first time in her life, Maylene knew where
she belonged.