Broken Wings (21 page)

*  *  *  *

Later that morning, they walked over to Café Du Monde, the only place to go in New Orleans for beignets. The open café, located in the French Market on Decatur Street, had been serving the doughy, sugarcoated concoctions to the residents of New Orleans for almost 150 years. Open seven days a week, twenty-four hours a day, the green and white awnings of the cafe were only closed for Christmas and the occasional hurricane.

Daniel and Pamela were sitting by an open table in the far corner of the café facing Decatur Street. Some street musicians were entertaining a handful of tourists right outside the eatery as Daniel and Pamela looked on.

“I wanted to live in the Quarter when I first moved here,” she revealed as she sipped her black coffee and chicory.

“I thought you were from New Orleans,” Daniel said, sounding surprised. “You seemed like one of the locals.”

“I moved here from Dallas when I was twenty, after a spring break trip in college.” She wiped some powdered sugar from her jeans. “I was studying pre-med. I fell in love with the place and decided to stay. My father had a fit. He cut me off and left me to make my own way. I got a job waiting tables at an uptown restaurant while I went to EMT school. A couple of years later I met Bob. I quit work to be the full-time wife of a Louisiana attorney.”

Daniel placed his cup of coffee down on the table in front of him. “What about your father?”

“He’s a plastic surgeon in Dallas. He’s on his fourth wife and never had any other children besides me. We never really got along.” She paused and peered into her coffee. “I haven’t spoken to him in six years. I called him when Bob and I got divorced. He blamed me for Bob’s leaving; told me I was a worthless wife, just like my mother.” She shrugged and took a sip of her coffee. “After that phone call, I figured we had nothing left to say to each other,” she added.

“And you were in pre-med because that was what your father wanted?” Daniel asked as he took in her profile in the midmorning sunshine.

She looked over at him. “He wanted me to join his medical practice and eventually take it over after he retired.” She smiled. “So I guess we have that in common, too.”

“But my old man has never been as far removed from my life as yours has been. My father has always tried to stay in touch with me. I’m the one who doesn’t want to stay in touch with him.”

She put her coffee down, reached over, and placed her hand over his. “You should try, Daniel. My father gave up on me. Yours hasn’t.”

“Does you father know about your lupus?” he asked as he picked up his cup of coffee.

“He knows. He sent me to a few specialists in Dallas. They poked and prodded and gave me pills that made me feel worse than the lupus. They even talked about a T-cell replacement procedure.”

“What’s that?” he inquired and took a sip from his coffee.

“A special procedure that kills your own naturally occurring T-cells, or immune cells, with chemotherapy, and then implants healthy donor T-cells into your body. It is experimental and controversial, but it has brought remission to some lupus and multiple sclerosis patients.”

He placed his cup back on the white saucer before him on the table. “You didn’t want to try that?”

Pamela shrugged. “By the time they started discussing that option I was done with doctors and hospitals. They don’t really know how to treat a chronic disease like lupus. They just treat you like a lab rat until they find something they think makes you better, but everything they do only makes you feel worse. At least that is how it made me feel.” She shook her head as she picked up her coffee again. “So I walked away from the treatments and all of the pills. I found a local rheumatologist here in the city and never went back to Dallas. It was right after I gave up on my treatments that Bob decided he wanted out of our marriage.” She took a sip of her coffee.

“But you seem all right now. Is there anything else that can be done?”

She placed her cup down on the table. “I have good and bad days. Today is a good day.” She paused and felt the sunshine on her face. “I try to limit my stress, which isn’t easy. I eat right, take care of myself, and I go in every six months and get blood work done to check my kidney function. My kidneys aren’t as good as they used to be.”

“Maybe there are other doctors, other hospitals with better drugs who may be better at treating your disease,” he declared, his voice filled with emotion. “There must be something we can do,” he implored.

Pamela shook her head. “I’ve seen some of the top lupus doctors in the country. There is nothing left to be done. I manage with what I have. I’m a lot better off than some patients and, besides, everyone has a cross to bear; even you.”

Daniel gazed into her eyes and for the first time since his mother’s death, he felt helpless. Here was someone he cared about who was suffering, and he could do nothing to ease her burden.

“There is something that I would like you to do for me, Daniel.”

“Name it,” he replied with a firm nod of his head.

She gave him a warm smile. “Call your father. You never know how precious family can be until you don’t have them anymore.”

He sighed and turned to take in the musicians next to the café who were playing a solemn jazz tune. “I promise to think about it,” he finally told her.

She picked up her coffee, sat back in her chair, and soaked up the warm rays of the sun on her face.

Daniel watched as her blond hair gleamed in the sunlight and felt something inside of him change. It was not a monumental blow that he felt, but a gentle tug at the deepest reaches of his soul that seemed to instantly shift his entire perspective. She had attached herself to some place deep inside of his heart, a place he had not dared to visit for a very long time. He knew from that moment on his life would never be the same.

*  *  *  *

It was well after twelve when Daniel pulled up in front of Pamela’s cottage. The dogs came out to greet them, tails wagging, as they stepped from the Jeep.

“The biscuits must have worked,” Daniel speculated as he patted the dogs gathering about his legs.

“They will love anyone who brings them food,” Pamela admitted. “They used to attack Bob like crazy until he started bringing them ham bones. Now they greet him as if he is their long lost friend.”

“Why didn’t you tell me that?” Daniel asked, frowning at Pamela.

She grinned. “Couldn’t make it that easy for you, now could I?”

Daniel laughed and took Pamela’s hand. They walked hand in hand to the front door.

Before they had even reached the last step, the front door flew open. A panic-stricken Carol came running out the door and grabbed Pamela.

“Thank God, you’re back! She started going downhill about an hour ago,” she cried out breathlessly as she dragged Pamela inside.

Alarm shot through Pamela’s body. “Who? Who started going bad?” she asked.

Pamela and Carol were halfway into the living room when Pamela saw Ian on the couch, clinging to one of the plastic containers on his lap.

“The little flying squirrel,” Carol answered.

“She started rollin’ around in her container and now she is just lyin’ there. She looks like she is havin’ some kind of seizure,” Ian reported.

Pamela immediately ran over to the couch.

“Is that my flying squirrel?” Daniel asked as he entered the room.

Carol nodded.

All eyes watched as Pamela took the creature out of her container. She inspected the small face and eyes. Then she felt along the animal’s stomach.

“Her belly is tight,” she said.

Suddenly, Pamela felt the animal’s stomach clench in a hard contraction. She checked between the squirrel’s back legs to find that a small pink head was emerging. She immediately replaced the animal back in the container and put the top back on.

She turned to see all of the worried faces staring at her. “It’s not a seizure. It’s a contraction. Seems little Pamela is in labor.”

Daniel let out a relieved breath. Carol smiled, and Ian looked just as confused as the moment Pamela walked into the house.

“Should we boil water or somethin’?” Ian asked.

Pamela tried not to laugh. “No, Ian. We will just let her handle everything. She’ll know what to do.”

Daniel walked up to Pamela, put his arms around her and lifted her off the floor. “So I’m gonna’ be a grandpa!”

“Looks like somebody had a good time last night,” Carol commented.

Daniel laughed as he put Pamela down.

“Carol, you would not believe how wonderful Daniel was last night at the party,” Pamela happily told her.

“Only at the party?” Carol asked, raising her eyebrows teasingly.

Pamela blushed and looked down at the floor.

Carol nodded to Daniel. “Wow, you rendered her speechless. You must be a real animal in bed.”

Daniel smiled at her. “I have my moments.”

Pamela punched Daniel in the arm.

“Please tell me there is a videotape,” Carol begged.

“Carol!” Pamela yelled.

“And she’s back,” Carol teased. She folded her arms over her chest and stared at Pamela. “So how wonderful was he at the party?” she asked.

“Well, we have three new monthly patrons, thanks to Daniel. Two of which have committed to five hundred a month.”

“A thousand a month!” Carol exclaimed. “That’s the same amount Bob gives us now.”

“And there’s an older couple Daniel introduced me to who will have their accountant contact us on Monday to talk about more funding. Can you believe this? We’ve been struggling for years and Daniel comes along and in one night does more than you and I could ever have done.”

Carol grinned at Daniel. “I, ah, hope she was real grateful.”

“I don’t kiss and tell, Carol.” He walked over to Pamela and took her hand. He led her back to the front door. “I need to get back to the city. I have to work this afternoon.”

Pamela opened the door and followed him outside.

“I’ve been thinking about what you said this morning,” he stated as they walked down the porch steps.

“I said a lot this morning,” she replied.

He stopped beside his Jeep and glanced back to the dogs resting on the porch. “Maybe I should phone my father and tell him he is a great-grandfather to flying squirrels.”

Pamela nodded. “I think he might like hearing from you.”

He wrapped his arms about her. “I’ll call you later tonight when I’m on break.”

She placed her arms about his neck. “Fine.”

He kissed her lips. “Now comes the hard part.”

“Hard part?” She gave him an awkward glance.

“I’ve got to cover the next four days to make up for taking off last night,” he said to her. “So I won’t be able to get up here for a while.”

“I’ll be here when you come back,” she told him. “I’m not going anywhere, Daniel.”

He kissed her forehead. “Neither am I.”

Over the next four days, the accountants for the Robillards, Val Easterling, and Lance Beauvoir all called with questions and instructions for Pamela. Her small office became inundated with paperwork, and Pamela had to spend a great deal of time faxing forms back and forth and even taking phone calls from other potential patrons Val Easterling had referred to her. The mother flying squirrel and her three new babies were moved from the kitchen to her bedroom to allow them a quiet place away from the constant phone calls and noise of Pamela’s busy office. She tried not to notice that none of the calls on her cell phone were from Daniel. He had not called that first night like he promised, but Pamela had been so busy with her animals she had not given the missed phone call much thought. However, when five days had passed, Pamela began to worry when she had not heard a word from him. Almost a week after her night with Daniel, Pamela finally voiced her concern to Carol.

“Maybe he got in a car accident heading home from here and is lying in a hospital bed unconscious,” Carol proposed to Pamela as they were feeding animals in the outside cages.

Pamela frowned at Carol as she placed a food bowl inside a cage filled with baby skunks. “How on earth do you think up such things?”

“Soap operas,” Carol answered with a shrug. “I watch them all the time at my office.”

Pamela nodded. “That would explain a lot.”

“Maybe you should just call him,” Carol suggested as she moved on to the next cage.

“I did call his cell phone, several times. All I got was his voicemail.” She turned away from Carol and walked over to the next cage and opened the door.

Three large opossums scurried to get out of her way.

Carol followed Pamela inside of the cage. “Then you should just go to that bar where he works and ask him what is going on,” Carol instructed as she filled a large bowl with a mix of dried cat food and chopped vegetables.

“And what do I say to him? Ask him why he is blowing me off? Tell him I thought our night together meant something?” she questioned as she picked up the water bowl.

“Did it mean something to you?” Carol softly asked.