Cypress Point (19 page)

Never before had she chronicled the hurt in her life in quite this way. She'd never allowed it to spill out to another soul.
Gabriel's face was full of sympathy and understanding, and she had the feeling he had experienced the same sort of ostracism she had. Not from a mother, perhaps, but from the world at large. Somehow, though, he had overcome it, and she wondered if he might be able to teach her how to do the same. His gentleness, his attentive listening, was seductive and comforting, and by the time she had finished her story she was in love—with Gabriel the man, not Gabriel the fantasy.

“Don't answer now,” he said as he walked her to the door after their long conversation. “But I would love to go out with you. Sailing, or out to dinner, or just about anywhere. Do you have a phone?”

“I can only use my landlord's phone in an emergency,” she said, thrilled, but by this point, not surprised, by his invitation. “I can call from Dr. Peterson's office, though.”

Stepping back to his desk, Gabriel jotted down a phone number on a piece of paper and handed it to her.

“I'm giving you an open invitation,” he said. “If you decide you want to go out with me, please call. I'll leave it up to you.”

 

“Dr. Kling. Call the front desk.” The voice came over the hospital loudspeaker, and Carlynn looked up from the chart on which she was writing. She was accustomed to being paged these days, now that she was an intern. The pages were often from Alan, of course, but he was good about using the paging system for business only, keeping their personal relationship out of the hospital. They had been dating for six months now, and after their initial conversation about her “gift,” Alan had found ways to bring her in on cases. A couple of times he'd even spirited her into patients' rooms in the middle of the night so that she could sit with them while they slept, her hands on their bodies. She'd discovered, though, the
mere touching of the patients alone did not seem nearly as effective as when she was able to look into their eyes and speak with them. She and Alan were both fascinated by trying to determine when her skills would work and when they wouldn't. What made the difference? She truly could not say.

In front of others, they were Dr. Shire and Dr. Kling, but they often couldn't wait until the end of the day, when they could discuss cases, pore over Alan's books on the subject of healing, and sometimes, when the serious business of medicine was set aside, laugh together. Alan was fairly good-looking, but he was more scientist than Prince Charming, and she was no empty-headed fairy-tale damsel. Their brains and their passion for their work drew them together and solidified their relationship, so that when they finally did sleep together, it was almost as an afterthought. There was love between them, of that Carlynn had no doubt, but it was not a romantic love, and she told herself that was fine. Next to Lisbeth, Alan was her best friend, the person with whom she could be entirely honest about her gift. If they ever married, something they had spoken about a time or two, he would make a wonderful father, and she was longing to have children. She could ask for little more than that.

Quickly, she finished writing her note in the chart, then picked up the phone to dial the operator.

“This is Dr. Kling,” she said when the operator answered. She waited to hear her say that Dr. Shire was on the line for her, but the operator surprised her.

“Lisbeth Kling on the line for you,” the operator said.

“All right.” Carlynn frowned, a bit concerned. It was rare for Lisbeth to disturb her at the hospital. “Put her through, please.”

“Carly? I'm so sorry to bother you at work.”

“That's all right. What is it? Are you okay?”

“I'm here in the hospital. I'm fine, though,” she added quickly. “I came here on business for Dr. Peterson, and I need your advice, Carly. Do you have some time?”

Carlynn looked at her watch. “I'll meet you in the front lobby in five minutes,” she said, then hung up the phone.

The lobby was large, in need of new furniture and very crowded, but she quickly spotted her sister near the entrance and sat down next to her on one of the sofas. “What's going on?” she asked.

“I met him,” Lisbeth said. Her face glowed with excitement. “Dr. Peterson's tennis partner.”

“You did?”

“Yes. But I need to talk to you about him.”

Carlynn glanced at her watch again. It would soon be time for afternoon rounds, but she would just have to be late. She moved closer to her sister.

“Talk to me, then,” she said.

“Oh, Carlynn.” Lisbeth grabbed her arm. “He's wonderful.”

Despite her concerns, Carlynn couldn't help but grin at the rare joy in her twin's face. “Go on.”

“I had to bring his tennis racket to him. Dr. Peterson had borrowed it. I was so nervous!”

“And what happened?”

“He was absolutely the best, Carlynn. Just as nice as he's been on the phone. I talked with him in his office for over an hour, and he asked me out.”

“Hurrah!” Carlynn clapped her hands together, but she felt fear mixed with her joy. Whoever he was, he'd better not hurt her sister. Lisbeth was not stupid, but she could be very vulnerable, a dreamer filled with longing. It was far too easy for her to be taken advantage of. “What's his name?”

“Gabriel Johnson.” Lisbeth looked at her expectantly. “Do you recognize it?” she asked.

Carlynn frowned. “No. Should I?”

“He's the chief accountant here.”

“Here?” Carlynn asked. “He works here? You've been talking to him on the phone for over a year. Why didn't you ever tell me he works here?”

“Because I didn't want you to go peek at him and tell me something about him that would wreck my…” She lowered her voice. “My idea of what he looked like.” She started to laugh.

“What's so funny?”

Lisbeth shook her head, but she was still grinning. “Oh, Carlynn,” she said. “Here comes the problem.”

“What?”

“If you go stop by the business office, you'll see.”

“Tell me!”

“He's colored.”

Carlynn caught her breath. The first thought in her head was “You're kidding,” but that was not what Lisbeth needed to hear. She wasn't certain
what
she should say to her sister. She could think of no colored professionals working at the hospital, but then recalled noticing a nice-looking Negro in the corridor once or twice, a man obviously not a patient, carrying a briefcase. He was missing fingers on his left hand.

“Carlynn?” Lisbeth sounded worried.

Carlynn laughed. “You caught me off guard there,” she said. “I might know who he is. Is he tall and good-looking? Is he missing two—”

“That's him!” Lisbeth nodded.

“I've never spoken to him, but he looks nice,” Carlynn said. “He's a lot older than you, though, I think, but then Alan is ten years older than me, so I guess I can't say anything about that.”

“But Alan isn't colored.”

She knew Lisbeth was waiting for her opinion of her dat
ing a Negro. “Does it matter to
you
that he's colored?” she asked her.

“I really like him, Carly,” Lisbeth said.

“Then go out with him.” Carlynn was unsure if that was the right advice, but she'd never heard such joy in her sister's voice before.

“What about Mother?” Lisbeth asked.

“What about her? Mother won't like anybody we pick. She doesn't even like Alan. No one's good enough for me, in her eyes.”

“Well, maybe she'll think a colored man would be just perfect for me, then,” Lisbeth said.

Carlynn laughed, but without much spirit. “Look,” she said, “it doesn't matter what Mother or anyone else thinks. Not even me. None of that matters, Lisbeth, if you really like him. You can't live your life trying to please everyone else.” Mother, she thought, must never know. Perhaps this man would just be the start of dating for Lisbeth. Perhaps Mother never would have to know that Lisbeth had seen him. “So, did you accept his invitation to go out?”

“I'm supposed to call him,” she said. “He left it up to me to decide if I wanted to or not. He understood that I might feel…uncomfortable.”

“Do you?”

“I think he's the most. He sails, Carlynn. He has his own boat.”

This was one unusual Negro, Carlynn thought. She knew how much Lisbeth loved sailing. “Then call him,” she said. “Do you want Alan and me to go out with you the first time? A double date? As long as it's not on a boat, that is.”

“Oh, would you?”

“Of course.” It was strange. She had been intimately involved with Alan for half a year, yet she had no idea how he would feel about a white woman dating a colored man.

“How
are
things with you and Alan?” Lisbeth asked, as though she felt rude for having focused the conversation on herself.

“Great,” Carlynn said, and they were. But just then she wanted to feel some of the passion that Lisbeth clearly felt. She wanted a man whom she could be certain was in love with
her,
not just with her gift.

T
here was no better way to let you know you had no friends than spending a birthday alone, Joelle thought. It was early Saturday morning, July fourteenth, and she was seated in front of her computer checking housing prices on the Internet. She had looked at Berkeley and Chicago and was now surfing through a real estate site for the third city she'd added to her list, San Diego, since a social worker she'd known from Silas Memorial was living there. It would be best if she could stay in California, she thought, so that she wouldn't have to worry about getting a social-work license in another state.

She'd decided she'd rent when she first moved, putting her condo on the market and using her savings for her expenses until it sold. At that point, she could decide if she wanted to buy something in her new town. Right now, though, she
couldn't imagine taking that permanent a step. It was hard for her to picture herself living anywhere but here.

She was sixteen weeks pregnant and still able to hide her belly, although that feat was getting more difficult by the day. If anyone wondered why she now fancied loose jumpers and tunic tops, no one said a word. At least, not to her. She would have to leave within a month, though, to be able to keep her secret, and she worried that waiting that long might be pushing her luck.

Happy birthday to me.

“Feeling a little sorry for ourselves, are we?” she said out loud as she clicked the “rentals” button on the real estate page. She was now officially thirty-five years old. She'd hear from her parents sometime during the day, of course, but knew she would receive no card from them and certainly no gift. She and Mara used to take each other out to dinner on their birthdays, just one of several rituals they'd had. No one at work had said a word to her about her birthday yesterday, but, of course, she hadn't reminded anyone, either. The only people who were showing any serious intention of acknowledging the day were Tony and Gary, who had invited her for dinner, an invitation she'd accepted because she knew she would be depressed tonight if she didn't have something to do. They would make a cake and fuss over her, and she would be eternally grateful for their kindness.

She planned to visit Carlynn that afternoon, and thought she might tell
her
that today was her birthday. It was possible Carlynn might even remember, since she'd actually been there at Joelle's birth. That thought made her laugh out loud, but then she realized that the thirty-fifth anniversary of Carlynn's sister's death was also this week, so perhaps she would keep her mouth shut about her birthday, after all.

After her phone conversation the week before with Liam,
Joelle had called Carlynn to tell her she'd been, essentially, forbidden to bring the healer to visit Mara again. She wanted to say to the older woman, “But I'd still like to see you sometimes. Can we be friends?” but she'd felt awkward making that statement. It was Carlynn who said it for her, as she seemed to read her thoughts.

“Then
you
come see me,” Carlynn had said with certainty. “We never know how these things work. Perhaps Mara can get better through you, if you occasionally visit with me.”

The concept made even less sense than Carlynn being able to heal Mara by actually touching her, but Joelle was not about to argue. She visited the mansion the following day, and she and Carlynn walked around the grounds. Carlynn seemed in good shape and good spirits, and did some of the walking without her cane. Quinn, the elderly black man, was helping some strapping young men with the yard work, and Alan was not at home, a fact that secretly pleased Joelle. Although maybe he wouldn't mind her being there now that she was not asking Carlynn to heal Mara.

Mrs. McGowan made them a picnic lunch, which they took to Fanshell Beach, practically next door to the mansion. They sat on rocks under the shade of a cypress, not too far from where the harbor seals basked in the sun, and ate little crustless sandwiches and talked and talked and talked. Carlynn described what it had been like growing up in the mansion. She spoke about her life as a twin and the close bond she'd had with her sister, as well as the guilt she felt over having been the beloved twin while her sister suffered neglect. She told Joelle about healing the family dog when she was a child, without even knowing what she was doing.

Carlynn wanted to know exactly what Liam had said to Joelle on the phone the night after her visit to Mara, and Joelle told her how furious he had been.

“He's still angry with me,” she said, remembering how coolly he'd treated her at work this week. “He's completely changed from someone who loved me—and I know he truly did—to someone who seems to despise me.”

“I doubt that,” Carlynn had said.

“You didn't hear him on the phone,” she said simply.

 

It was nearly noon when she had finished searching the Web, and she was about to get dressed for the visit with Carlynn when her phone rang. Checking the caller ID display, she recognized Liam's number. She hesitated only a moment, then pressed the talk button on the receiver.

“Liam?”

“I'm sorry to disturb you on a Saturday,” he said. “I'm on call, and I just heard from the cardiac unit. One of my patients isn't doing well, and they want me to come in to be with the family. Sheila had to go to Santa Cruz for the day. Her sister's sick up there, so I have no one to leave Sam with. Is there a chance you could watch him?”

He had to feel like a heel asking her for a favor after the way he'd treated her this past week, but she wouldn't rub his nose in it. This was a professional call, and although it would mean canceling with Carlynn at the last minute, there was no question that she would do as he asked. Besides, she could think of no better way to spend the afternoon than with Sam.

“I'll be right over,” she said.

She called Carlynn from the cell phone in her car as she drove over to Liam's.

“Ah,” Carlynn said, and she actually sounded a bit pleased. “I understand. No need to apologize. We'll get together another day. And Joelle?”

“Yes?”

“Happy birthday, dear.”

 

Liam was waiting on his front porch with Sam in his arms, and when he handed the baby to her, she was surprised at how heavy Sam had become.

“Thanks,” Liam said. “I'll call you when I know what time I'll be back.”

“I'll take my cell if we go out,” she said.

She and Sam stayed on the porch until Liam had pulled out of the driveway, and she was relieved that Sam did not seem distressed as he watched his father drive away. It had been a while since she'd spent much time with the little boy, and she hadn't been sure how he would react to being left alone with her.

Pulling open the screen door, she walked inside the house. Before she did anything else, she wanted to get her fill of just holding Sam in her arms, so she sat on the sofa with him and began nuzzling his delicate little neck.

“Sammy, Sammy, Sammy!” she said, and he giggled, squirming as she tickled his neck with her lips. “What shall we do today, sweetie pie?”

The sun was shining outside the living-room windows, and the sky was a cloudless, vivid blue. “Let's not waste our time inside,” she said. “Who wants to go tide pooling with me?”

“Me!” He wriggled from her arms to stand in front of her on the floor, his little hands on her knees. “Me, me, me!”

“Do you even know what a tide pool is?” she asked.

He nodded. “I go bool,” he said.

“Not a pool, silly. A tide pool.”

“Tybool.”

“Right! Let's go.” She stood up and headed for the mudroom, where she knew she would find an extra car seat and where the cupboard above the laundry sink would hold some
sunscreen. Sam followed close behind her, trying to grab her leg as she walked.

“We go tybool!” he said.

Once in the car, Joelle drove to a parking area along the coastal trail. She got Sam out of the car seat and watched with trepidation as he ran toward the rocky beach. Maybe this was not such a good idea. She hadn't realized how mobile Sam was these days.

They spent an hour exploring the tide pools, and Joelle thought Sam enjoyed himself almost as much as she did, although she was certain he was tired of hearing her say, “Don't touch,” by the time they were ready to leave.

Liam called her cell phone as she was driving back to his house.

“I'll be another hour,” he said. “Is that all right?”

“No problem. We're on our way back from the beach, and I think you-know-who is ready for a nap.”

“Okay,” Liam said. “I usually put him in his crib with a couple of books. He entertains himself until he falls asleep.”

“All right,” she said. “Thanks for the tip.”

She changed Sam's diaper when they got back to the house, then laid him in his crib with a couple of picture books. She doubted the books were needed, though, because Sam was ready to crash. Standing over the crib for a moment, she stroked her fingertips over his blond curls.
Mara,
she thought, her eyes filling just a bit,
I wish you could enjoy your beautiful baby boy.

In the kitchen, she poured herself a Coke, then noticed the yellow envelope propped against the phone on the counter. The envelope read
Joelle
in Liam's handwriting. Picking it up, she tore open the flap. Inside was a card, the sort you would send to a child for her birthday, with a big-eyed puppy and kitten on the front. Below the animals were the words
For A
Special Girl.
She opened it to find the verse,
Says the Little Kitty, and Puppy, too, There's no Other Girl as Nice as You! Happy Birthday!
It was signed,
Love, Liam and Sam,
and simple and silly though it was, it put a grin on her face. She could picture Liam and Sam picking the card out together.

She wandered aimlessly around the house for a while, sipping her Coke, looking at the framed pictures of Mara that were scattered here and there, noticing the dust on the guitar case standing in the corner of the living room and the ever-growing pile of Sam's toys in the den. Finally, she found herself in the doorway to Liam's bedroom. She stared at the bed, trying both to remember and forget the night she had slept in this room. Liam had made the bed in a hurry this morning, the green-and-white-striped coverlet pulled up sloppily above the pillow. The blue afghan, which matched nothing else in the room, and which Liam had tucked around her nude body before moving to the guest room, hung over the footboard of the bed.

On the bookshelf behind the bed she spotted the book of meditations she'd given him. It was lying flat on the shelf, separate from the other books, as though Liam read from it often. She walked into the room and sat down on the bed, pulling the book from the shelf, remembering their Point Lobos hike and how close she'd felt to him as he'd read aloud from the book.

As she opened the book, a photograph fell from between the pages, and she felt a chill when she saw the picture of herself. She knew when it had been taken—the day she and Liam discovered Sam was far too young to appreciate the Dennis the Menace Playground. The photograph was no more than five or six months old, yet it looked worn, as though it had been handled a great deal, and Joelle bit her lip. She felt as though she was peering inside Liam's soul, a place she had no permission to see.

Oh, Liam.

Closing the book, she returned it to the shelf behind his bed and stood up. That's when she felt it. Not a fluttering, as she'd expected, but more like a bubble. She rested her hand on her stomach as the bubble moved again, and she smiled to herself.

She was not alone today, after all.