Kindergarten Baby: A Novel Page 16
“Uh…she likes red and purple. How about purple?”
“One purple gown coming up,” she said, but then frowned. “Oh, boy. It’s going to take some talent to get this outfit off. It fits like a glove.” She continued to undress Shawna, always careful and respectful. She spoke to Anthony as she worked, giving him a blow-by-blow, so to speak, and Anthony watched with a sort of detached fascination. It occurred to him that he’d never really seen Shawna’s body or even her skin, except in very dim light or almost total darkness.
“How cute! Purple panties to match the hospital gown. She can keep the bra and panties on. The doctor won’t need to go there, obviously. Your wife sure has had a lot of surgery. Was she in a car accident or something?”
Ignoring the ‘wife’ reference, Anthony shook his head. “Not that I know of. We haven’t been together very long,” was his response. “How do you know she’s had surgery?”
“Look at the scars around her hairline. And there by her chin. She’s even got scars on each of her calves. Those are really bad. Somebody did a poor job of putting her back together.”
Anthony was suddenly sober. Whatever had happened in the past, Shawna obviously hadn’t wanted to share. She’d wanted to hide her surgery or injuries or whatever was going on. The doctor came and went, and he ordered x-rays for her knee, foot, and ankle. When the nurse came to check her vitals, Anthony asked if the scars could be from routine cosmetic surgery.
The nurse peered closer, then tilted her head from side to side. “Some, maybe. The hairline scars and the chin could be. And…her bust line is larger and much perkier than is typical,” she added with raised eyebrows.
Anthony grinned. “Oh yes. They are extraordinary,” he admitted with a twinkle in his eyes.
But look here,” she said, shaking her head and pointing out an odd scar on Shawna’s neck then another at her brow line.
When the x-rays returned, the Venetian doctor pulled Anthony into his office and explained that no bones appeared to be broken, but she at least had a torn tendon. She would need medical follow-up and probably surgery as soon as they got back to the States. Under no circumstances was she to put any weight on her ankle for at least two weeks. Otherwise, the damage would be more difficult to correct.
As soon as the sedative wore off, Shawna awoke and became fully aware of the changes in her state of undress, which prompted her to start screaming again. “No! This can’t be happening! Get my clothes. Get them now!” she yelled, struggling with the nurse. She pulled out her IV, pounded on the bed rails, and threw whatever she could get her hands on at the poor woman. She was about to receive another sedative when Anthony and the doctor ran in.
Her eyes, dark and naked without the sunglasses, pleaded with him. “Anthony! Help me, darling. Take me out of here. Take me home,” she begged, reaching for a reassuring embrace.
Anthony had never seen Shawna so terrified, and it roused his long suppressed, nurturing instincts. The recent doubts he’d had about their future as a couple diminished right there in this Venice Emergency Room. Still, he couldn’t understand her extreme reaction. He’d seen all kinds of people in various levels of pain, but nothing like this, and he wondered if it was more than just physical pain. Perhaps it had something to do with her past surgeries. He’d find out on their flight home. Suddenly he was glad it was such a long flight. She’d be forced to stay in her seat and listen to him.
The next few days passed without incident, though it was inconvenient. Shawna was confined to a wheelchair and steadfastly refused to leave their hotel room. Her tolerance for pain was minimal, so she relied heavily on the pain prescription she’d been given, and her resultant naps gave Anthony time to enjoy long, contemplative walks around Venice. The more he thought about it, the more he worried about her mental state rather than her ankle. He needed to know about her past. It seemed incredibly strange that they’d been together so long—and done so many intimate things—and yet they knew so little about each other.
Who was this woman for whom he’d cast away his beautiful, sweet, loving wife? He’d gotten caught up in the kinky, wild sex Shawna offered, and he understood why. He’d already known he was a borderline sex addict—something he’d convinced himself was a positive trait…but was it really?
The trip to Marco Polo Airport was uneventful and quiet, albeit challenging. Water taxis and wheelchairs were a precarious pair. They made their flight without any issues, and finally settled into their seats. Once they reached their cruising altitude, Anthony took a deep breath, ready for a difficult conversation. Shawna, on the other hand, was ready for another pain pill, and some wine to wash it down. Anthony reluctantly gave in to her wishes.
“How does your ankle feel today?” he asked.
“With each pill I get a couple of hours of tolerable pain. But then the stabbing pain starts up again. The ache in my hip throbs all the time. Oh, I just want to sleep, Anthony, just sleep till the pain is all gone.”
Sometimes the drama was hard to take, but he bit his tongue. It wouldn’t do to get her going again. “You know that’s not possible,” he said gently. “These things take time. Besides, you have surgery on that ankle ahead of you. We’ll find the right combination of medication and distractions to get you through this.”
He saw her long lashes blink behind the sunglasses. “You’re a good man, Anthony,” she replied, rendering him momentarily speechless. She’d never said anything like that to him before. Even the tone in her voice was different—straightforward, friendly, almost kind, and it lacked even a hint of her normally seductive, ulterior motives. Maybe now was the time.
“Hey,” he said, starting slow. “During this entire vacation you never mentioned Wendell. Where is he?”
Shawna explained with little detail that Jake, their Chinese Food delivery guy was watching him, assuring Anthony that he barely charged her anything. Anthony thought briefly that he should have left the dog with Lindsey, but he knew he couldn’t bring that up with Shawna. He took another deep breath and decided to move on to the difficult topic while Shawna still seemed willing to talk to him.
“Shawna, we need to discuss your scars and—”
Her face went white. “What? You saw my scars? You were there when they undressed me? Oh my God. Venice hospitals don’t believe in privacy? In a patient’s dignity? How could they?” She narrowed her eyes and focused her rage on him. Fortunately, she didn’t want to create a scene any more than he did, so she managed to keep her ranting to a seething, snake-like whisper. “How could you? Don’t you care about me?”
“I do care about you, Shawna, but yes, I did see scars. Lots of scars. Why do you hide them from me? Why the deception? Don’t you trust me enough to share this with me? I am shocked that you’d go to all that trouble just to keep the world and me in the dark. It explains the sunglasses and your refusal to be in bright light…but Shawna, you’re still beautiful. You’re the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen. Lots of women undergo surgery to improve their appearance, though I can’t imagine you needed it.”
She blinked at him, not committing to anything, so he continued. “The ER nurse said something that concerns me, though. She thought some of your scars looked more like someone had ‘put you back together after an accident.’ What else should I know about you? I really want to know you, not some false image you’ve created.”
This was a new, subdued woman beside him. She bit her lip, looking much younger all of a sudden. When she spoke, her voice was soft and tentative. “Oh, Anthony. You’re okay with all of this? You still want me?”
She still hadn’t answered his question, but he could see how difficult this was for her, how much reassurance she needed. He’d find out her secrets eventually, he assumed. “Of course. More than ever. And right now, for the first time, I feel like we are beginning a real relationship,” he admitted. “Whatever comes along, we’ll work it out. And, Shawna, you are fine. You are beautiful just the way you are. As far as
I’m concerned, you don’t need any more surgery.”
The pain pill began to take over, and Shawna’s speech slowed. “This is what I’ve been waiting for: a commitment from you, Anthony. That is all I ever wanted. As soon as the ankle is fixed, I will have one last surgery, and I promise that will be the end of it.” Her eyelids drooped closed, but she forced them open. “You’ll stick around, right? Like you said, we’ll work it out.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
Today is the beginning of the rest of my life, Lindsey told herself, staring out the airplane window. She couldn’t stop grinning. Three days ago her world had seemed bleak and unbearable—especially after she’d received the bill for the loan, thanks to Emmett. But she’d left her worries behind for now.
Today she was flying to Rugby, North Dakota. When she’d called Laura the morning after their principal’s late night phone message, she’d been given the best surprise of her life—she’d won Arizona’s Innovative Teacher of the Year Award. Of course that had meant extra work, since she had to write the guest teacher plans for the three school days she would miss, then plan an oral presentation to deliver to an audience of other “Innovative Teachers,” but that was hardly anything to complain about. She’d hid her key under the mat then left a message for Jake to come and pick up the animals, confident he wouldn’t mind.
She was thrilled with this amazing opportunity to be recognized for her work with kinder students in the area of writing, but nervous about giving a presentation. She’d never spoken in front of an audience of educators before—or any audience, for that matter. She took out her presentation and read it over and over to herself, then studied the samples of student work she’d brought to share. She knew she was prepared. After all, she was merely showing other teachers what she did every day. Simple, right?
I’d feel far more confident if my audience was made up of five and six-year-olds, she said to herself.
The plane touched down in Denver, and she waited for the usual announcement for passengers to remain in their seats until the plane came to a complete stop. When it was done, it was followed up by, “Due to strong headwinds today, this flight is running about fifteen minutes behind schedule. If you have a connecting flight, check the screens to your right as you deplane, and proceed quickly to your next flight. Thank you for flying with us, and welcome to Denver.”
Lindsey disembarked, then spotted an airport employee before she’d reached the screens. She asked where she should go, and he told her, “It leaves every day out of Gate 4 on Concourse E.” He glanced at his watch and then shook his head. “And it leaves in twelve minutes. I hope you’ve got your running shoes on. You’re going to have to sprint to make it.”
“Thanks,” hollered Lindsey as she began to run, dragging her carry-on behind her. She was confident she’d make it, though she wished she’d had time to stop in the ladies room. When she reached the end of the long hallway that connected the various concourses, she looked around, confused. There was no Concourse E in sight. Had she missed the sign? She circled around, looking up at the few signs above her, but she couldn’t see anything that said “Concourse E.”
“Hey, can I help you?” asked a young, handsome man. He looked like he was in a hurry, too.
“I’m supposed to catch a flight to Rugby on—”
He grinned. “Say no more. I’m headed to that same plane. Follow me,” he said with an exaggerated flair, as if he were an actor.
She looked more closely at him but refused to believe her eyes. The guy looked just like the actor, Matthew McConaughey. Could it be him? Could a star like that be going to Rugby? Trying not to stare, she followed him right through an unmarked door, down two flights of stairs, and out into the cold Denver air.
“There’s your plane,” he said, gesturing dramatically toward the smallest airplane Lindsey had ever seen. “Just remember to hold on to the railing as you walk up the stairs. They tend to be a little slick now and then.”
“Uh, sure. Thanks,” she said, staring wide-eyed at the plane.
The stairs were so narrow she had a hard time holding the railing with one hand and lifting her rolling carry-on with the other, all the while trying not to fall. Her handsome rescuer followed, and she kept worrying she’d slip and tumble back on top of him. When she finally made it to the cabin door, she let out a breath, thinking she was home free. That’s when she smacked her head on the low doorframe. The good-looking guy, today’s knight in shining armor, was right there to catch her.
“Sorry,” he said, helping her into her seat. “I forgot to mention that you needed to duck.” He frowned at her forehead, and rearranged a strand of her hair to cover the spot where a lump was likely to appear. “There. Doesn’t look too bad.”
Lindsey stared at him in wonder. He still looked amazingly like Matthew McConaughey, even close up.
Once she was settled, he stood as straight as he could in the low-ceilinged space and addressed the eight passengers. “You know the drill. Fasten your seatbelts.” Then he turned and pulled back a curtain before entering the small cockpit. Her knight was the pilot?
Lindsey stifled the urge to giggle. I’m flying to a tiny town in a miniature plane flown by an actor. What’s next?
On cue, he poked his head out from behind the curtain. “Everybody ready? Hold on tight—we’ve got a bit of weather ahead of us. Rugby, ready or not, here we come!”
Lindsey’s flying experience was fairly limited, but even so, she was pretty sure this flight would redefine the word “flying.” The engine noise inside the cabin was so loud she wished she had brought earplugs, like two of the other passengers. They’d obviously done this before.
Suddenly realizing how thirsty she’d become, she turned to the Native American woman sitting directly behind her and asked if she knew when drinks might be served. The woman laughed out loud.
“No drinks, no eats on this plane. Here.” With a sympathetic smile, she offered Lindsey a cookie from a package of peanut butter cookies.
Lindsey tried to settle in, get comfortable, but it was difficult. She couldn’t concentrate. One man in the back of the plane—the back being only a few steps away—began singing Don’t Worry, Be Happy, and before long two other passengers chimed in. Everyone was having fun, and they actually sounded pretty good. One added some harmony and another started whistling. She didn’t want to interrupt by walking past them on her way to the dreaded airplane lavatory, but she had to. She couldn’t wait any longer.
“Goin’ for a walk, lady?” one of the men asked. “It’ll be a short one. You can’t get in shape on this putt-putt.”
“Oh, I’m not trying to…uh… I’m just going to powder my nose.”
A quiet looking older woman glanced up and motioned for Lindsey to bend down so she could whisper in her ear. “Honey, there’s no bathroom on a plane like this. Didn’t anyone tell you?”
Now Lindsey had a new predicament to deal with. Panic set in. It was going to be a very long, uncomfortable flight.
They finally landed, and with the challenges of the plane ride behind her, Lindsey searched for a bathroom in the tiny Rugby airport—there had to be one. She was desperate to empty the container she’d used as a tiny emergency toilet, given to her by the kind and well-traveled lady on the plane who had also assisted her through the awkward process. With relief she spotted a nondescript door marked Restroom, and she grabbed the door knob, but the door was locked. No problem. She’d waited this long, she could wait a little longer. She heard the flush, the water, and the hand dryer before the door opened.
A tall, stocky man with a friendly smile emerged from the small bathroom. He tipped his cowboy hat in her direction. “Hi, there. Just land?”
“Hi, to you, too. Yes, I flew in from Tucson.” It seemed a little odd, having a conversation with a stranger at the entrance of a bathroom while she held a container of urine; she tried to keep it out of view.
“Tucson?” he bellowed. “I love T
ucson. I went to grade school there, and my business takes me there now and then, though I spend a lot more time in Phoenix. Well, you have yourself a good time while you’re here. See you around,” he said, then he turned and headed toward the door leading out of the terminal.
While he walked away, she pondered who he was. He looked comfortable here, as if he’d been here before. Then she wondered what elementary school he’d attended in Tucson, and what line of work might have brought him to Rugby.
Bathroom duties accomplished, Lindsey was at last ready to pursue her purpose for being in Rugby. She approached the only remaining person in the terminal—a strong, stocky woman at the counter, who was probably the ticket agent, baggage handler, custodian, and security agent all wrapped into one—and inquired about a hotel.
The woman shook her head. “Nothin’ here that I’d call a hotel,” she said with a chuckle. “We’ve got several rustic cabins for the hunters that come up each year, though. Don’t think you’d like ‘em.”
Butterflies swooped through Lindsey’s stomach. What had she gotten herself into? “I am here for a conference, and it was my understanding that we’d all be staying in one place.”
Light dawned in the woman’s eyes. “Oh, you’re one of the teachers,” she said, smiling with confidence. “I don’t see many of them ‘cause most fly into Bismarck and hitch a ride over to Rugby. I do know that everyone attending that meeting is staying at the Mackelroy place. It’s about five miles from here,” she said. “They converted their old barn into a pretty interesting meeting location. Most folks really enjoy it.”
“Oh, good. Thank you. Can you call a cab for me?”
The laughter was back in her eyes. “No, can’t do that,” she said apologetically. “The folks that fly in to this airport usually have family or friends that pick ‘em up—no need for cabs. But I can call my sister if you’d like. She’ll be happy to drive you out there.”
Lindsey enjoyed the company and hospitality of the woman’s sister, but she was shocked when she laid eyes on the accommodations: a small house beside a huge barn, both of which looked as if they might fall apart if the wind even thought about blowing.