Promises in Paradise
Diane smiled graciously. “I certainly will give him your message. He loves the whole let’s-do-lunch thing but he’s terrible about making it happen.”
“I know,” the elderly man lamented. “Adam never did suffer the details very well. I’ve always enjoyed our conversations. Give him my best.”
“I will. Get home safe,” Diane said and the gentleman, alone, walked away.
She waited just a moment longer before leaving the room, her father’s Revere Bowl in her hands. She looked up and saw Hale. He was standing alone, his gaze focused absently on the last group of guests descending the staircase. For just a moment Diane quietly watched him, accepting that she no longer recognized the young man she used to know. In that moment she was very curious about this new person, this grown man. What was he doing here? How had he become involved with such an influential and select group of professional folks?
Was the tux rented?
As curious as Diane suddenly was about Hale, she accepted that it would be a snowy day in hell before she asked her father for details.
Undetected, she walked away from him to make one more stop before her drive home.
In the ladies’ room, one woman was washing her hands. The second, a small, lovely young woman, was sitting in the outer lounge area reapplying lipstick. Diane recognized her as Hale’s dinner companion. The woman caught her gaze briefly in the mirror and offered a faint but friendly smile. Diane automatically responded in passing.
When she finished and was ready to leave it was in time to see Hale and the woman about to board the elevator. Diane made the decision to walk down, but was spotted by the woman, who waved at her.
“You’re just in time. We’ll hold the door.”
Unable to come up with a reason why she shouldn’t ride with them, Diane hurried to the elevator and entered.
She avoided looking at Hale. “Thanks.”
The word caught in her throat. She sounded breathless to her own ears. Not because she was in a closed, confined place with Hale, but because she was suddenly aware that his companion was very pregnant.
The other woman was saying something. Introducing herself. Jenna. Stunned, Diane couldn’t hear properly. She had to force herself to focus, to clear her head and lift her gaze to the other woman.
“…about your father. He sounds like a wonderful man,” the woman said.
Diane nodded absently, trying to think.
Think!
“Ah…yes. Thank you. I agree but I’m biased. He’s far from perfect, but if I don’t agree, I’ll probably sound mean-spirited.”
“Which is it?” Hale asked.
Diane’s eyes sparked but she did her best to hide it. She looked at Hale, her gaze steady. “I’m lucky that he’s my father. He’s probably a better person than I am.”
A muscle in Hale’s jaw tightened and his dark eyes took her in, steady…and unforgiving.
“I don’t believe that,” Jenna demurred. “Your speech was so warm and loving. I’d say, like father, like daughter. Right, Hale?”
It was too long a moment before he responded and Diane braced herself for something sly and cutting.
“I think that’s fair,” he murmured.
The elevator eased to a stop and the doors opened. The entrance lobby was almost deserted, except for night staff, the director and several others who, once again surrounding Diane, congratulated her father and asked that he be thanked for so generously donating his award check to the cause.
Before Diane could finally bid Hale and Jenna good-night, Hale’s voice halted her.
“Is your car in the museum lot?”
Diane looked puzzled. “Yes. Why did you ask?”
“So’s mine. If you follow me I’ll lead you back to 295. That will take you right to the Belt. You’ll find your way home from there.”
“I’ll be fine. You don’t have to…”
“Do you leave the lot and go to your right or left? The highway entrance is a quarter of a mile east of here.”
Diane stared blankly at him. Jenna laughed. “I think it’s a man thing. I couldn’t tell you if we’re east or west, either. Come on. It’s not going to take us out of the way.”
Diane wanted to protest again but she knew she’d only come off as ungrateful and stubborn. She glanced covertly at Hale only to find him regarding Jenna affectionately.
Okay. So she’s pregnant, pretty and nice.
“Thanks,” Diane murmured, quietly giving in.
Diane watched Hale help Jenna with her winter coat that, when buttoned, ballooned over her protruding belly. She found it humiliating to trail several feet behind Hale and Jenna as, her hand looped through his bent arm, he slowly walked them all back to the parking lot. Diane tried to control her shivers, the rush of frosty air biting into her skin and penetrating deep to her bones. To add insult to injury, her nose was starting to run. She began sniffling.
If Jenna or Hale noticed they gave no indication. The pace continued leisurely for Jenna’s sake, and Diane gritted her teeth, her eyes now watering from the cold, until they reached the lot. Her car was brought out first. She gave the attendant a very large tip for having turned on her heater full blast. She fell into the seat, closing the door with a deep sigh of relief.
She waited for the same service for Hale and Jenna, watching them both through her windshield. Not so much Jenna but Hale.
Patience, consideration, kindness and tenderness were not words she would ever have associated with him. At least not the Hale she used to know. But Diane was taken aback, almost mesmerized, by his attention to Jenna. She didn’t know what to think, what to feel. Their whole encounter that evening had so been outside their history that she felt as if she’d stepped back to the year she was seventeen. That’s where she and Hale Cameron had left off. It was obvious to her now, that’s where she’d gotten stuck.
Hale helped Jenna into the passenger seat of the car, making sure she was comfortable before closing the door and coming around to the driver’s side. Diane at last felt her ire, her long-held indignation, seep out of her. It was pointless. Plus, she felt ashamed. She had not risen to the occasion as she’d always planned if their paths had ever crossed, but had reverted to the spoiled girl Hale had once accused her of being. She had not been able to bridge the gap of years since their last meeting but he had. He had moved on and put her behind him.
His car moved out ahead of her and Diane followed as she’d been instructed. It galled her that she was now beholden to Hale.
They were surprisingly close to the highway entrance, and he stuck his hand out the window indicating the right ramp. Hale then changed lanes, giving her space to pull around his car. She saw that Hale continued to wait, making sure she was well on her way.
At the last minute Diane flashed her headlights as a thank-you before picking up speed. This was something else he could hold over her, no matter how trivial.
Chapter Two
Diane stood at the nursing counter, dressed in a pair of slim black slacks and a dove-gray cashmere turtleneck sweater with fashionable black leather boots. Simple pearl ear studs were her only jewelry. Not exactly holiday colors, she realized when she dressed that morning. Christmas was in the air but she was not about to act like a walking advertisement.
There were makeshift vases of holly and evergreens, wreaths made of fake fruit and poinsettia plants on the counters and a sprig of mistletoe over the entrance to the visitor’s lounge. Cutout foil snowflakes were taped to doors and mirrors. It was hard to avoid. But Diane also knew she just wasn’t feeling it yet.
“Hey. Haven’t seen you lately. When did you cut your hair?” the nursing supervisor asked, sitting at her terminal and working on her computer keyboard.
“About a month ago,” Diane answered absently, focused on the paperwork in front of her. “I got tired of dealing with it. Too much work.”
“You look different.” The nursing supervisor nodded.
Diane shook her head, amused. “Thanks. I think.”
Her hair was trimmed short across her nape but was layered full at the crown and sides, framing a light brown face that was youthful and animated. And except for the unbuttoned traditional white lab coat and the stethoscope folded into one of the pockets there was nothing else about her appearance or posture to indicate she was a doctor.
At that moment she was multitasking, checking messages on her BlackBerry, listening to voice mail from an earpiece and quickly checking off on a hospital form the procedures she’d followed with her last patient. She was also sucking on a piece of candy cane, rolling it around her mouth.
“What are you doing here, anyway? You’re not even on the schedule.” She checked to make sure.
Diane consulted her BlackBerry once more. She entered a text message before finally turning it off and dropping it into her pocket along with the earpiece.
“I was called in for two late referrals that couldn’t wait, according to the attending physicians. The referrals turned into one emergency and the other required a full workup. And there was a bunch of as-long-as-you’re-here-doctor-can-you-take-a-look-at-this requests. You know how it is.” She sighed.
She wasn’t about to admit there was more on her mind than just the obvious routine of her work. To be honest, over the past week or so she found her work was actually a blessed distraction. The horrible events of two years ago notwithstanding, what was on her mind right now was merely irritating. It had kept her awake on three different nights in the last two weeks. It was because she’d seen Hale Cameron again.
Why did he have to be there? she’d been asking herself ever since.
With Jenna.
Who was pregnant.
The image of the friendly woman with her rounded belly evoked a primal reaction in Diane that she, even now, couldn’t understand. Pensive, she played with her hair and massaged her scalp with her fingertips.
“Well, if you’re finished with patients it’s time to get the spirit. Ho ho ho and all that. There’s food in the staff lounge. Unless you have a date and you’re eating later. Or is that long face because he canceled?”
Diane silently shook her head. The mention of any kind of celebrating for the holidays only made her think of Trevor. Her ex-husband. The gnawing memory made her feel more annoyed than sad.
She leaned her whole torso over the counter as she searched along the desk. “Got anymore candy?”
The nurse playfully swatted her hand. “Leave that alone. It’s bad for you.”
Diane chuckled quietly but obeyed.
“You didn’t answer my question. A dinner date?”
The basket was now beyond her reach and Diane stood up and leaned a hip against the counter. “That’s over,” she said smoothly, watching the traffic around the nursing station, the passing of staff, patients and visitors trolling the hallways. Many were wearing cheap, felt Santa hats with fuzzy white trim.
The nurse squinted at her in disbelief. “Over? I thought you just met him a few months ago. What happened? If you don’t mind me asking.”
Diane studied her nails. Her fingers were long and well shaped. Her nails short by necessity, manicured but free of polish. Free of rings, wedding, engagement or friendship.
“It wasn’t a good fit. We weren’t on the same page about a lot of things.”
“He was cute. You threw him outta bed?” The nurse was again incredulous.
Diane’s answering smile was faint. “That wasn’t it. He was just so…so…straight.” She struggled to find the right word. “He was nice and all that, but…”
She stopped and frowned, realizing she was about to make an honest confession that she would later have regretted. It didn’t help that in the middle of the nurse’s probing and her defensive dodging Hale Cameron again came to mind, disrupting her thoughts.
She was seeing Hale as he’d momentarily stood alone and unaware of being observed by her, or anyone, at the end of the gala in Baltimore. She was reminded of when he was nineteen, not long after he’d appeared in her life and become her nemesis.
He had a provocative, strongly defined physique on the cusp of becoming a man. He stood and moved his body in an arrogant posturing way back then, as if he were fully aware of his own assets but wanted to give the impression that he wasn’t. But sometimes, Diane recalled, when he didn’t know anyone was watching, Hale could seem almost shy, even awkward. That night a few weeks ago, she’d caught a glimpse of that same momentary uncertainty, all pretenses under wraps.
“I guess I’m too busy to concentrate on a relationship right now,” Diane said restlessly, forcing the memory to recede.
“That mean you’re coming alone to the holiday party?”
“I…have other plans,” she improvised.
“Then you should at least stop upstairs before you leave.”
“What’s upstairs?” Diane asked, again pulling out her BlackBerry to check for messages. She stood reading one, frowning over its contents.
“The kids’ party up on six. Santa’s coming in to meet them and give out presents.”
Diane turned off the phone. “I’m glad you reminded me. I have some things in my car.”
Pushing away from the counter, Diane walked toward the elevator. She spoke briefly to colleagues she met in passing, listening to excited plans for Christmas and New Year’s, and being asked about her own. She made them up as required.
Without stopping to get her coat, Diane left the building and walked to her car in the staff lot. It was a cold, overcast day, promising rain or snow. She opened the trunk of her car and removed a shopping bag from which protruded two gifts wrapped in kid-friendly holiday paper. She started back toward the building and then suddenly stopped midstride. Returning to her car, Diane opened the driver’s side and climbed in, shutting the door behind her. She absently placed the bag on the other seat, pulled out her phone and made a call. She sat with her eyes closed waiting for the connection, thinking about what she was going to say.
“Hi, Eva. It’s me.”
“Diane. Honey, is everything okay?”
“Yes. I’m sorry I didn’t get back to you right away…”
“I know you’re very busy at the hospital but I worry when nearly a week goes by…”
Diane let her head drop back against the headrest and slouched in the seat.
“I know.” She sighed
“It’s just work, right?”
Diane gnawed on her lip, staring out beyond the windshield to the stark evidence of December and that-time-of-the-year.
“Yeah. Mostly,” she finally confessed.
There was a silence on the other end and Diane knew what was coming next. She’d hoped to avoid this conversation. Her father would have left it alone, never one to mix it up in her business. But her stepmother, in many ways, knew her better than Adam.
“I know what you’re going through right now. That’s why I want to know if you’ll be coming for Christmas. Bailey is driving me crazy asking every ten minutes when you’ll arrive.”
Diane smiled at the mention and image of her half sister.
“What should I tell her? And your father?”
She sighed. “Eva…I…don’t think I’ll make it down. I’ve waited so long to get a flight it’s going to cost me a fortune. Plus I have a couple of cases I have to keep close tabs on. Maybe I can see everyone for a weekend after the holidays are over. I mean, you live only a couple of hours from me.”
“That certainly hasn’t meant we see you any more frequently. Here’s the thing. We want to see you for the holidays, not after. We want you with us. Unless…are you going to stay with your mother this year?”
Diane shook her head even though Eva couldn’t see the action. “No, I’m not doing that.”
“I understand,” Eva murmured.
Diane knew that she did. Eva was kindness itself and would never dream of saying anything critical about Diane’s natural mother, even though it was common knowledge that Maron Fairchild was a bit of a drama queen.
“Listen. I know this is a difficult time for you, honey. One of the biggest family holidays of the year and you probably only remember Trevor telling you he’s leaving, two days before Christmas.”
Diane’s stomach roiled with exactly that memory…
At the end of a party they’d given. Their apartment had been jumping with wall-to-wall people, music and laughter. Most of their friends, an equal number of colleagues, his and hers, and even a few total strangers who’d somehow crashed. It was almost 2:00 a.m. when she’d closed the door on the last guest. Eva was wrong about one part of the story. Trevor had never told her he was leaving. After making a feeble attempt to clean up some of the debris and leftovers of their party she’d realized that it was suddenly very quiet and Trevor was nowhere to be seen.
“Trevor? Where are you? How about giving me a hand?”
She’d found him in their bedroom. Packing a suitcase.
Diane no longer remembered if he said anything just then or even what she’d said to him. But she would never forget his simple response to her annoyed accusation that he was being childish as he silently picked up the case, calmly walked to a hall closet and put on his coat. Finally, opening the apartment door.
“Goodbye, Diane.”
That was it.
You’ll hear from my lawyer had been posted in an e-mail to her several days later.
The echo of Trevor’s words still felt like a raw open wound. And just this week, a few days before Christmas, it felt worse believing she was destined to relive that awful moment, forever.
“I know you think that’s the reason, and I appreciate your concern, Eva. But the truth is, I do have some patients with serious issues.”
“I believe you but I don’t believe that means you can’t get away to spend Christmas with your family. Come down for just a few days. Leave the day after Christmas if you really have to.”
Diane silently chuckled. “You’re making me feel so guilty.”
“I hope so. You don’t need to be alone. You don’t need to punish yourself that way. Bailey is making all kinds of plans. Hayden keeps hinting at something in particular he’s sure you’re getting him. Adam wants to know if he needs to rent a second Jeep. We invited Simon and I think he’s coming, too.”
“Simon,” she repeated, surprised. “You’ll never see him. He’s going to be breaking hearts all over the island.”
“I know, but I trust your father to keep him in line, if that’s called for. And, honey, I really want to see you. Come home.”
Come home.
“I don’t want to make any promises…” Diane stopped and swallowed, stunned by the sudden lump in her throat and the uncharacteristic urge to cry. She cleared her throat. “Look…I took a moment to call you back so you wouldn’t think I was avoiding you…”
“But you were…”
“There’s a holiday party going on right now in the pediatric ward and I’m late.”
“Then go. Just don’t forget we’re all here for you.”
“Say hi to everybody for me.”
“Take care, sweetie. Love you.”
“Love you, too.”
Diane ended the call but just sat there. She couldn’t move just then if her life depended on it. She was a pile of tender nerves, confused emotions, convoluted but vivid memories. She felt perilously close to tears and hated that she could lose control while sitting pathetically in her car, in a hospital parking lot, just days before Christmas. Alone.
She muttered an oath and scrambled out of the car, snatching up the bag with the gifts. With her head high and any suspicion of tears swept away by the wind, Diane went to join the festivities in the children’s ward.
“Hey. You made it.”
“Hi, Ron. Sorry I’m so late but the children’s party at the hospital threw me off schedule. You probably thought I was going to stand you up.”
The burly black man, his dark face wreathed in a grin from cheek to cheek, let out a rumble of laughter.
“You could never be too late. I appreciate you could squeeze in some time for us. Come on in and sit a minute. But be careful.” Ron pointed meaningfully to a small bouquet of greenery taped just above his door.
“What is it?” Diane asked.
“Mistletoe. Only but two or three of us know what it is and what it’s for. Hasn’t been used yet.”
“Your idea, I suppose.”
“Hey, it’s a good way to teach about another Christmas tradition, right? It’s not all about the gifts and turkey.”
Diane shook her head wryly and did as she was told, maneuvering around the stacks of boxes, flyers, folders and other sundry this and that that pretty much filled Ron Jeffrey’s office. She sat on an inverted milk carton since the second chair in the office had transit files piled on it. She unwound the long scarf fashionably twisted around her neck and shrugged out of her coat. Ron squeezed his bulk around a corner of the desk and plopped into his chair. He pushed his glasses up his nose while quickly and efficiently checking e-mails on his surely about-to-die aging PC and answering his telephone. He dispensed with two calls and the messages and then pushed back in his chair to regard Diane with a warm smile.
“Thanks for coming, Diane. Hope I didn’t pull you away from anything important.”
“You didn’t. I didn’t need to spend too much time at that party. I nearly overdosed on Christmas candy and hot chocolate.”
Ron laughed again, the sound carrying out his office door and down the halls of the shelter where a valiant attempt had been made to make the place look festive and cheerful.
“Can’t offer you hot chocolate. Milk is too expensive. But the market two blocks away donated a couple of cartons of apple juice for our party. Care to have some? I can put a little fortifier in it, if you want, against the cold,” he said, winking at her.
“Not yet.” She laughed. “I’d like to first take a look at the boy and senior resident you’re concerned about.”
“Good idea. Then you have to meet Santa Claus. If you’ve been a good little girl, maybe he’s got somethin’ for you in his sack.”
That sent him off into another peel of uproarious laughter. Diane enjoyed his spirit. He was director of the community shelter for displaced families. She’d always been impressed not only by Ron’s advocacy on behalf of the homeless, but his amazing ability to get services and favors from the most unlikely places when most other people could not. She suspected that people were afraid of Ron Jeffrey because of his size and very commanding voice. She wouldn’t put it past him to exaggerate both if it got results for the shelter. Over time she’d come to know him as the gentlest of men, and a very savvy and smart one. He seemed to deliberately let his appearance belie the fact that he held a master’s degree in not-for-profit administration.
Diane glanced around the office. “Is this the only private space?”
He shook his head, pursing his lips. “No such thing as privacy in a place like this, I’m afraid.”
“Then this is fine.”
She opened the leather satchel she’d brought with her and began to remove equipment and instruments. Without a word Ron sprang up from his desk and left the office, closing the usually open door behind him.
In just a few minutes he returned, escorting an older white woman into the office, offering Diane a quick introduction to Nan. He left, with a silent jerk of his head to indicate he’d be within shouting distance if she needed his help.
The woman was mostly silent, asking no questions, offering no earlier information, sitting passively while Diane did a basic exam of her vital signs. She didn’t even seem particularly interested in what Diane was doing. Ron had informed her that the older woman recently seemed incoherent.
Diane made quiet idle talk for reassurance to the woman who, she could well imagine, probably hadn’t seen a doctor in years. Two very simple little movements requested of the woman quickly confirmed her suspicions.
“Okay, Nan, I think I’m done,” Diane said.
