The Doctor and the War Widow (11 page)

Jessica’s voice cut through her reverie. “She’d leave for long periods of time and take Jordan and me with her. He’d come back to England and talk her into returning. Then, she got sick after I was an adult. She wouldn’t let him come near her. She’d met another man by then. He was with her when she died.” Jessica stopped fighting her tears. She reached into her purse and dabbed her eyes with a tissue.

“What do you want of me? Why have you told me all of this?” Harley fought the sadness subsuming her. No, she wouldn’t let sympathy sway her. Abisi’s condemnation of her had hurt. She was tired of being hurt and of hurting, but she also couldn’t deny that she still wanted him.

“I just want you to understand my dad. He hasn’t been the same since you’re not around.” Jessica met her gaze imploringly. “I’ve only seen him this depressed twice before. When Jordan died—” She looked down and continued, “Then when my mum got sick. He was trying so hard to see my mother in her last days, and she wouldn’t see him. I’d never seen anyone so hurt. My father was open to someone seductive like Kimberly, and for a while, he couldn’t see what she was. Then, he met you. I think you’re a sincere person, not like her. I can tell he misses you. He doesn’t sleep at night since you’re not round. I hear him walking about at two in the morning.”

“Jessica, I’ve been hurt, too.”

“I understand that, but please, just talk to him.”

Harley placed a hand on hers. “I won’t promise anything, but I miss him, too.” She studied Jessica a long time before adding, “Do you love Geoffrey?”

Jessica looked startled. “Yes, why?”

“Why are you putting off the wedding?”

“He wants a baby right away. I don’t want it to end my career.” Jessica shrugged and took a sip of tea.

“It doesn’t have to, you know. Many women who are mothers now have careers.” Harley leaned closer. “Life is really short. I never thought I would be a widow at thirty. You can’t deny love when it’s real.”

The girl switched gears. “Why were you fired?”

“Oh, the school found out that I write books that deal with the ‘S’ word.” Harley laughed. “Of course, the administration and all of their students arrived on the planet via a Virgin Birth. They also found out about my scandalous behavior with your dad. The hypocrites. Most of those parents screwed around while they were teenagers.” Relief flooded over Harley. It was definitely time to leave that school. She wasn’t going to talk about the school’s prejudice to Jessica. She would save her most fiery rhetoric for the bishop and his minions.

“What will you do?” Jessica looked genuinely concerned and then added with heat, “How could two adults seeing each other be a problem?”

Harley wasn’t going to reveal too much about the ugly encounter with the nun. The whole scenario sent cold and hot waves of anger through her spine. “The administration is just narrow-minded. Please don’t upset your father with this. I have some money. Besides, I’m writing like I never have before, thanks to my narrow-minded employers.”

Jessica nodded. “I have to leave tomorrow, but I hope you’ll look in on my dad.”

“Okay. I’ll only promise to look in on him.” As she watched the other woman walk to her car, Harley wondered what in hell she’d done. She agreed to see Abisi, but she had to put the past in perspective first.

Chapter 10

The next day, Harley parked behind her mother-in-law’s blue sedan and killed the ignition. She hadn’t called Vera to announce her coming and was uncertain of the reception she would receive. She’d always loved John’s mother, and since John’s death, Harley had kept in close contact with Vera. They frequently met for lunches or movie evenings, but Harley sensed that Vera’s heart ached when she looked at this still living daughter-in-law and that, in spite of Vera’s love, she resented Harley’s search for happiness. Harley, however, loved John’s mother. Facing Vera’s anger and disapproval would be like facing Eden’s.

Harley propelled herself from the car and strode to the front door. The house was largely unchanged from the days when she and John dated. Neat rows of pansies and begonias lined the front of the tall, white-framed two-storied home. Green and white awnings protected the side windows. Harley sighed as she remembered kissing John against one of those windows. The moon had shone brightly on his blond hair, and he’d clasped her in arms that were both tender and strong. Swallowing hard and staring into the street, Harley took a deep breath before knocking on the door.

After what seemed like an interminably long time, Vera thrust the door open and stared at her. “Harley.”

Harley detected no warmth in her mother-in-law’s voice. “May I come in?”

“Of course.” Vera’s voice was as dry as bone, but she stepped aside so that Harley could brush past her.

Vera was always a thin woman, but in the month since Harley had seen her, she’d become gaunt. Her cheeks were sunken, and the blue eyes that had always reminded Harley of John were set far back in her eyes. Harley’s heart pounded with dread. Eden was gone. John was gone. Not Vera, too. She kept her voice steady. “You’ve lost weight.”

“I’ve lost you.” The words were soft but deadly.

Harley winced as if struck. She thought her lungs had collapsed and didn’t speak for a long time. When she finally did, her voice was a whisper. “What in hell do you mean, Vera?”

‘Why didn’t you tell me you were involved with someone?” Vera moved into the kitchen, and Harley had no choice but to follow.

“I didn’t know I had to report all of my activities to you.” Harley’s fear for her mother-in-law’s health gave way to hot anger. “John’s gone now almost ten years.”

This time, Vera winced and recoiled from Harley as if she’d encountered a snake. She scooped two spoons of coffee from a canister, filled the carafe with water, and turned from Harley. “You don’t have to remind me of how long John’s gone.”

Harley bristled. “Me, either, and I’ve been lonely.”

Vera rounded on her. “I understand that. You’re still a vibrant woman, and I know you’ve been through a lot with Eden, too. Why didn’t you tell me?” When Harley didn’t respond, Vera jabbed a finger at Harley. “I’ll tell you why. You were ashamed.”

“Ashamed?” Harley stared at her, open-mouthed. Hot fury darted through her whole body. She jabbed a finger at her own breast. “Why should I be ashamed? My husband is dead ten years now. Hell, I’ve had masses said for him every major holy day. The year he died, I had mass said for him every week.”

“It’s not like we don’t talk. I’ve obviously talked to you, even had lunch with you, since you’ve been with this man, and you never mentioned it.” Vera placed two cups on the kitchen counter and poured sugar in each. “I can only assume you’re ashamed.”

“Not ashamed, just—” Harley took a deep breath. How did she feel and why didn’t she tell Vera? “I wasn’t sure how you’d react, and at first, I didn’t know how the whole thing was going. I’ve always had the feeling you wanted to make a shrine to John’s memory, and I was part of it.” The words pierced Harley’s soul. With each word, she’d chipped away at the sacred monument her mother-in-law had erected to John. “I—I always felt you wanted me to remain some celibate Virgin Mary.”

“
He’s
one of the people who killed my John. John was your husband. Don’t you remember him?” Vera moved to pour the coffee and stopped, her hand suspended in midair. To Harley, she looked like some perverse corpse in a macabre mime show.

Harley took her mother-in-law by the shoulders and forced Vera to face her. When she spoke, Harley barely heard her own voice. “
Remember
him? John’s haunted my dreams every night of my life, Vera. Before he died, John was the source of every passionate thought I had. I dreamed of him day and night. Even when I wasn’t with him, I could feel his arms around me.” Harley swallowed. Her hands dropped to her side. She was suddenly very tired. “Your son and I had a great marriage. We also were soul mates. Maybe that sounds corny, but it’s true. When he died, I still dreamed of him, but I knew that what we had was over. I never thought I’d have this again.”

“So this Muslim’s replaced my John?” Vera turned a stony gaze on Harley as she mechanically spooned sugar into a cup.

“No one can replace John.” Harley gently placed a steadying hand on Vera’s.

Vera let the spoon settle in the jar. She met Harley’s gaze. Her blue eyes were pure ice. “These are the people who killed him.”

“This man didn’t kill John.” Pity and anger warred inside Harley. S
he released Vera’s hand but moved inches from the older woman’s skeletal face. “Abisi is very secular. He doesn’t practice any faith and thinks that most organized religions have caused more harm than good. He hates extremism, and he’s never hurt a soul.”

“How do you really know this man? He’s not from here. He could be anything or anyone.” Vera met Harley’s gaze.

“Abisi is everything he says he is. I’ve been where he works. I’ve met his daughter.” Harley gestured wildly and stared at her mother-in-law in a mixture of disbelief and anger. She’d never known Vera to be narrow-minded, but John’s death had poisoned his mother’s whole life.

“Okay, Harley, do what you want to. I won’t argue with you any longer.” Vera poured coffee into a cup and held the cup tightly in both hands. “I just don’t know if I can forgive you.”

Harley’s mouth fell open. She resisted the urge to wrap her hands around Vera’s neck. Her head pounded. “
Forgive
me? What have I done to need forgiveness? You’ve listened to the bigoted claims of a crazy nun and some gossiping morons, especially that vindictive Troxler. I’ve done nothing but respect your son’s memory. I’ll grieve for him all my days.” She bit her lip to stop its trembling. “You know what, Vera? John would have liked Abisi. They were a lot alike. Your son didn’t judge other people. He wanted to make a difference when he went overseas.” Harley suppressed a sob. A vise clamped tightly over her lungs. “He’d send me videos where he was playing with kids or helping villagers. God, Vera, he’d hate what you’ve become.”

Vera’s lip trembled. “How can you say that to me? I lost my husband when John was a boy, and then, I lost my son. I thought I had a daughter in you, but you’ve betrayed my family. You even dropped our name. You were a Gaiennie. You weren’t proud of my son.”

“Wasn’t proud of him!” Harley recoiled as if she’d suffered a body blow. “I adored John. When he wasn’t with me, I longed for his body and his soul, but being Mrs. John Gaiennie hurt too much.” She almost spit her next words. “Do you think you’re the only one who’s lost anything? I lost my husband, my mother, and now my job. I loved my husband and my mother more than my own life, and you think you have the right to condemn me for wanting to move on. It was move on or die, for God’s sakes.” Harley moved within inches of Vera’s face, not waiting for a response. “I’m tired of sadness, and because I was, you and people like Sr. Elizabeth attacked me. Do you think I can forget John? No, I can’t, but I can find happiness somewhere else. Tomorrow, I intend to say just that to the bishop. You and people like you have put me in this position.” Harley took a deep breath. “I don’t want my job back, but those bigots are going to hear what I think of them.”

Vera stared at her with wide eyes. “You are in love with this man, aren’t you?”

“It doesn’t matter, Vera. I probably screwed up my chances with him. Hope you’re happy. I don’t deserve this from you. We’ve been close since John’s death, but now, you resent my moving on. It’s not fair.” Harley turned to go and said over her shoulder, “One more thing I’ll regret. One more loss. I’ll spend another night alone in my bed.”

“Harley, I’m sorry. Harley!”

Harley heard Vera’s cries but marched into the hallway, through the door, and to her car before hot tears could spill from her eyes. Vera’s betrayal throbbed like a sore nerve.

The day after her encounter with Vera, Harley sat in the lobby of the Archdiocese of New Orleans, waiting for her audience with the bishop. When Harley had dressed that morning, the white dove had perched within the oak tree, cooing contentedly. Nico had lain at the door, head on paws, and wagging his tail. Harley wondered if her mother was giving her tacit approval. Now, she inadvertently tapped her foot against the tile floor and stared at the portraits of bishops gracing the wall. She was about to face the city’s “Ice Man” and begin an incendiary argument. The man would undoubtedly tow the party line and protect the precious school that had discriminated against her and besmirched her lover. Harley wondered if the new superintendent would attend the hearing or if the woman had made her recommendation and would opt not to appear.

The bishop’s secretary ushered her into the conference room and took a seat beside the archbishop. To Harley’s surprise, only the bishop, Danielle Troxler, and Sr. Elizabeth were present. The petite secretary waited for a nod from Bishop Bonura and then discreetly opened a laptop.

Bishop Bonura nodded to Harley and indicated a chair at the top of the long conference table. “Please take a seat, Harley.”

Harley acknowledged his greeting but ignored Sr. Elizabeth and her henchwoman. The nun gave her a thin, sour smile. Danielle Troxler sat beside the nun, her hands folded demurely in her lap. The business suit she wore made her look like a pig stuffed into a pen. Harley clutched the manila folder holding her prepared speech and waited for the bishop to begin.

“The superintendent and I have reviewed your claims, Harley, and
—
” Bishop Bonura held a document in his hand and pushed his reading glasses to the bridge of his nose.

Harley interrupted him mid-sentence, hoping to circumvent the man before he could declare her case closed. She instinctively knew the Ice Man would rule against her, and she wanted to state her position. St. Cyprian and her job didn’t really matter. She wanted to expose the bigotry and hypocrisy at the heart of the school and kept her voice even. “Understand, Bishop, I don’t want my job back. I wouldn’t grace that school with my presence, but the bigotry and narrow-minded behavior I encountered have to be addressed and cut out at the root.”

The bishop said nothing. He removed his glasses, and stared at her. His lips formed one thin line. “I see. Well, enlighten us, Ms. Michel.”

“Mrs. Gaiennie.” Harley cleared her throat. She saw the bishop smile thinly. Sr. Elizabeth’s lips formed one thin line. She shifted in her seat. Troxler gasped softly. Harley wondered if she could breathe in that suit.

“Yes, Mrs. Gaiennie. Please continue.” Bishop Bonura glanced at Harley curiously and then shot what looked to be a warning glance at Sr. Elizabeth.

Harley drew in a deep breath. Her heart pounded rapidly, and her hands were cold. She cleared her throat and was surprised by the steadiness of her own voice. “I was a loyal faculty member of that school for years, but my principal believed the gossip of some petty, bigoted individuals.” Harley narrowed her gaze and glared at Sr. Elizabeth and then at Troxler.

Sr. Elizabeth squirmed in her chair, avoiding Harley’s stare. She also avoided looking at Bishop Bonura. Troxler had not looked at anyone the entire time Harley was present.

A hot surge of satisfaction ripped through Harley’s midsection. The nun’s body language proved that Sr. Elizabeth knew she was wrong. Harley continued, “When I was a student in the Catholic school system, the teachers stressed the importance of tolerance. Sr. Elizabeth, in fact, often referred to the oppression she suffered as an Irish citizen, but this same woman felt free to condemn me and a friend of mine.”

Sr. Elizabeth colored and stammered. “I—I had to address the concerns brought to me by parents.”

“Let her finish, Sister.” The bishop’s gaze shifted between the nun and Harley. He didn’t even acknowledge Troxler’s presence. His expression betrayed nothing. “You’ll have time for rebuttal.”

“Thank you.” Harley cast aside the notes she’d made. “I was accused and judged without trial or jury. My accusers had money, and they were armed with jingoistic righteousness. This man in my life was a Muslim, and they condemned us both because of their own prejudices. I’m disappointed that the school that once taught tolerance condemned me and someone about whom I care deeply because of religious bigotry and showed how far the school has fallen.”

Sr. Elizabeth took a sip of water from a paper cup. She’d regained her composure, and her gaze was steely. “Have you no shame? Think of how your husband died. I only wanted Vera to know—”

Harley answered her through clenched teeth. “Do you think I can forget how John died? His memory is with me every day, unlike people who only use his memory to flog me. Sister, I don’t care that you’ve maligned me and that you ruined my relationship with John’s mother. Your actions only prove your maliciousness. One day, you’ll stand before God and have to answer.” Harley’s pulse raced. She took a deep breath, hoping to control the rapid beating of her heart. A belt tightened around her lungs. This woman had smeared the name of the man she loved, desired, and respected. “You’ve not only judged me. You’ve judged and condemned the most honorable man to live. He’s spent his life helping others, but you chose to condemn him. You’ll have to answer for it one day.” She turned to Troxler. The woman’s gaze never met Harley’s. “You brought this to her attention. Somehow this came to you. You’re big friends with the gossipy Mary Ann and you’ve caused havoc in this school since you came. You have no respect for our culture or our people. You’ve told veteran teachers they can’t perform because they’re too hard. You’ve promoted whiny people who spy for you over those who have education and talent.”