When Angels Cry (22 page)

Chapter Sixteen

The flow of people in the waiting room was as thick as the lunch hour traffic.  The ambulance Angie
and Kaylee
had ridden in had ploughed through, but even with flashing lights and wailing sirens, the cars had refused to budge.

Angie shifted her weight, trying to ease the stiffness  in her buttocks.  Even though
twenty-five
people filled the room and the heater spewed hot air, Angie still wore her coat, trying to drive away a chill that refused to leave.  It came from seeing a woman barely younger than herself lying on a gurney
w
heeled into a hospital because no one could revive her.  Angie closed her eyes and remembered Kaylee’s pale face as she
’d
fallen.

What was wrong with her?

Two chairs down, a toddler in a dirty white shirt and jeans shorts screamed and threw himself onto the floor.  Angie stared at the child
and his indifferent mother
, who chatted with a woman next to her.  The screaming child quickly woke a sleeping baby across the room
who cried
and
writhed beneath
its
thick swaddle of blanket.  The father, a frowning man in his mid-thirties dressed in a suit and tie, glared at the woman
,
who’d managed a feat no one else in the room could
—she
ignored her child.

Amid the clamor, an elderly volunteer in a blue c
oat circulated among the people
and, with a trembling hand, offered coffee and newspapers.  When the volunteer came to her, Angie smiled, politely and waved the woman away.

What am I doing here?
Angie wondered, rubbing her forehead where she could feel the stirrings of a headache.  Perhaps she’d been a fool to believe she’d ever see Bastian again.  Toying with the strap of her purse, she felt tears heatedly stinging her eyes, and everything blurred.

“Are you here with Ms. Renard?”

Angie blinked rapidly until her vision cleared then looked up to find a forty-something doctor in front of her.  She stood.

“Yes.”

“I’m David Smith, Kaylee’s physician.”  He offered his hand.

“Angie Connelly,” she said, shaking his hand.  “How is she?”  
Why did it sound like Kaylee had been to see this guy a lot?

“She’s exhausted and needs rest.”  He pulled off his hat and looked at the toddler still lying on the ground.  The blond boy no longer cried but simply stared with rapt attention at the doctor’s face, as if even the toddler knew that the doctors controlled the universe inside these walls.

“What happened?” 
Smith turned back to Angie. 

“I don’t know.
  She picked me up
at
the airport
,
and we were having lunch.  She stood to dump her tray and passed out.
”  Angie slipped the strap of her purse over her shoulder.  

“It’s happening more and more frequently,” he said quietly, staring not at Angie but at the ground and speaking to himself in frustration.

“What
is?
” she asked.

“Are you Ms. Renard’s sister
,
by chance?” 
The doctor looked as though his thoughts had been elsewhere and he’d finally returned. 

“No,” Angie shook her head.  “I’m not a relative, just a friend.”

He frowned and rested his hands on his hips.  “How long have you known her?”

“Not very,” she replied, trying to read between the lines in his forehead.  What was going on?  A nervous tickle fluttered in Angie’s stomach, and her left hand touched her abdomen. 

“Do you know how to contact her family?”

“No, we really haven’t known each other that long, and I’ve never met any of them.”

“
Is there anyone
Ms. Renard would want to know she was here?  It’s important
.  H
er file is incomplete, and she’s asleep.”
Smith stared at the ground and shook his head.

“Is this serious?” 
Angie’s purse strap slid off her shoulder
,
and
the bag
dropped to the floor. 

“I really can’t discuss her case with you before I speak to Kaylee or her immediate family.  We have no information in her paperwork, and, in the past, she’s been particularly obstinate about
not
divulging personal information, so I'm at a loss here.”
  The doctor looked back at the triage desk.

Bastian would want to know.
  Angie picked up her purse.  “Wait
.  T
here is someone you can call, someone she’s been seeing for a while.”  She rifled through the contents of her billfold until she came across the scrap of paper on which she’d scribbled Kaylee’s number.  She copied it onto another bit of paper and wrote “Bastian Connelly” at the top. 
S
he handed it to the doctor
.

“Call this number and ask for Bastian.  He’d want to know Kaylee’s here.”

Smith took the paper.  “Thank you.  I’ll have one of the nurses contact Mr. Connelly ASAP.” 

“Is Kaylee going to be all right?” Angie asked as the
doctor turned back to the triage desk
.

“She’s in room 105
,
where she’ll be staying at least overnight, and probably longer.  You can see her for a few minutes, but that’s all.  She really needs to rest.” 
The doctor faced her, tr
ying without success
to mask the grim frown that gouged his forehead.
He strode away, leaving Angie to wonder why he
hadn’t
answered her question.

As she stared around a room filled with people waiting on doctors and news, she sank back into her chair
.

What do I do now?

* * *

Hours after Bastian had gone to work, he finally returned home, but to an empty house.  He walked in the door and set his keys on the
kitchen table.

“Kaylee?  I’m home.”  Still, only the echo of his voice greeted him.  “Kaylee?”  His steps quickened as he searched the house and found himself alone.

“Where the hell is she?” he mused aloud, taking off his coat and draping it over a chair.  He walked to the refrigerator
,
took out a twenty-ounce bottle of Coke
,
and forced himself to sit and pretend to read the paper spread open as Kaylee had left it.  Still, the black print formed words he didn’t care about, and his eyes lingered upon all the expensive decorations in the room.  For the first time, Bastian actually saw things from Kaylee’s perspective
.  T
his was just a house, and without Kaylee, it seemed too empty.  He stared at his watch.  This wasn’t like her.  Had she gone to visit her mother?

The phone rang, jarring Bastian from his chair.  He strode to the counter.  Maybe it wasn’t her.  Then again, maybe it was.

“Is Bastian Connelly there?” a female voice asked.

“Speaking,” he replied tersely, wondering if a bill collector had finally caught up with him.  He ignored the urge to hang up.

“Mr. Connelly, this is Sheila Reynolds from Johnson County Hospital.  I
’ve
been advised to call you on behalf of Kaylee Renard.  She
’s
been checked in to our facility.”

“Oh
,
God
—is
she all right?
”  Bastian’s fingers loosened, and he almost dropped the phone.  His heart slammed against his chest, and he fought to keep his breathing normal.  He couldn’t lose her
,
not now.

“She’s stable but will be staying in the hospital.  She
’s
in room 105.  Once you get here, Dr. David Smith, Kaylee’s physician, would like to speak with you.”

“I’ll be right down,” he replied
and
hung up.  The grandfather clock down the hall chimed seven times as he stood there.  His whole body shook from a coldness he’d only felt when he’d found his mother.  He willed his body to move, but it seemed impossible.  Right at this moment
,
even breathing seemed difficult.

In a pain-induced stupor, he grabbed his keys and flew out the door.  He wouldn’t remember the drive or even darting down the hospital corridor to get to Kaylee.  His first real memory of the episode would be seeing Kaylee asleep in bed, just as he had seen her the night
they’d met
.  Once again
,
her long
,
dark hair
lay
spread
about
her head, and she appeared
tiny
and frail beneath the blankets.  She
’d
lain in a small, sparsely decorated room like this one.
 
A chill swept through Bastian, and he couldn’t chase it away.  He quietly walked to the chair beside the bed and sank into it without looking away from Kaylee’s face.

“Kaylee?  Are you awake,
b
aby?”
he whispered, taking her hand in his.

“Bastian?” 
Kaylee’s eyelids fluttered and opened.
  “Where am I?”  She
blink
ed
a few times
,
gazing up at his face. A few seconds later
,
her gaze traveled across the room, starting with the chair beside her bed and ending with the IV pole next to her.  Her mouth opened in a panicked O.

“The hospital.”  He stroked her hand.  “Do you remember what happened?”

“No.
  Head hurt
s
like hell.
”  Kaylee tried to sit up, but even as she half-lifted her back from the bed, pain seized her head
,
and she touched her temple.

“Okay, so don’t push your luck.  Do you want me to call a nurse?” 
Bastian placed his hands on her shoulders and forced her to lie back.  He gritted his teeth and hovered over her.  His hand joined hers in massaging her temple. 

“No.  If they give me more drugs, I’ll sleep.
  How did you know I was here?
”  Kaylee caught his hand and pressed it to her cheek. 

Brushing his thumb across her cheek, he laid his head on her stomach.  “I picked up the phone, thinking it would be you calling to tell me why you weren’t home.  Instead, one of the nurses told me you were here.
 
I drove here like a race car driver.  I thought....”  His voice faltered, strangled by tears.  He’d play
ed the “
What If
”
g
ame one too many times and had lost repeatedly.  This was no different.  It was just a matter of time.

“Sweet Jesus.”  He clung to her, wrapping his arms around her mid-section.  His fingers now tangled in the blankets, twisting, groping, holding.  His body convulsed with sobs.

It’s okay, Boyscout.  I’m
here.  You couldn’t get rid of me that easily if you tried.”
  Kaylee set her hand on
his head and stroked his hair.

“Looks like I’ll be sleeping on an uncomfortable couch again.”  
Bastian closed his eyes and nestled deep in her warmth for a few moments before he finally sat up
.
Down the hall, he heard a squeaky cart being pushed toward her room. 
It’s probably the dinner cart
, he thought.

“You don’t have to stay.  I’m a big girl, you know.” she said in a sleepy voice.  Her eyes blinked a few times before closing.

“Like hell
.  I’m not leaving you again.  Ever,”
he replied, shaking his head.  He held her hand and shifted his weight in the chair
, watching
her chest rise and fall.  The motion suggested Kaylee had drifted
back
to sleep.  He leaned back in the chair and tried not to feel the tension throughout his body.  Tilt
ing
his head from side to side, he tried to loosen the tense muscles in his shoulders and back.

“I love you, Kaylee,” he whispered, hoping like hell she
’d
heard him from whatever dreamland she was visiting.  Maybe he could never have said that in daylight, but he felt it.  How he felt it.

As he held her hand, he noticed movement at the corner of his eye.  Turning, he spotted a tall woman with long, blonde hair.  She stood in the doorway, staring at him.  Bastian matched her gaze, focusing on something familiar but distant in her eyes, the shape of her face, the voice he had yet to hear.  Then he knew.

“Bastian?
  Is that you?
”  She finally edged into the room.  More steps, closer and quicker.