Authors: Gwynne Forster

Whatever It Takes (36 page)

BOOK: Whatever It Takes

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“If she's really sick, she can't stay alone,” Douglas said, giving voice to his worries.

“This is true. I'm moving into my house this week, but I'm not sure it's suitable for a sick person with those high stairs, but there's plenty of room, and I canâ”

“Don't worry about that, sir. I'll take care of herâ”

Marshall interrupted. “Say, the two of you aren't living together, I hope. It's enough that I have one thoughtless daughter.”

“No, we aren't, and we've never discussed it, but that doesn't mean I can't look after her.”

Marshall's fingers brushed the flesh beneath his chin where an emerging beard reflected the time of day. “Then you two have an understanding?”

“Yes. We care deeply for each other, and we want to see whether we have the basis for permanent ties.”

When Marshall grinned, he saw in the man a reflection of Lacette's face, the half dimpled chin and the sparkling eyes. “Does that translate to âWe care enough, but we don't know each other well enough to marry, although we want to?' ” said Marshall.

So the man had a sense of humor. In his book, that added to a person's stature. “You could say that, but I'd do it tomorrow if she said yes.”

“Hmmm. What's holding her back?”

“I'm a widower, and I have a nine-year-old son who lives most of the time with my parents. She wants to be sure of the boy's feelings about her, and maybe she needs to know more about me. Nickâthat's my sonâis enchanted with her.”

“You and Lacette are both lucky and blessed.” He appeared thoughtful as he rubbed his chin again. “The one thing that is certain to ruin a marriage is infidelity. Remember that. Forgiving it is difficult, and forgetting it is impossible.”

He looked Marshall in the eye. “My wife was sick for almost two years, and I have a perfect record for fidelity. I took my vows seriously.”

Marshall leaned back in the plastic and chrome chair and clasped his hands over his belly. “Yes. I imagine you do, and it's refreshing.”

“Thanks. I'm going up to the nurses' station. I can't stand not knowing.”

A nurse met him as he stepped out of the waiting room. “Mr. Rawlins? She's fully conscious, but we're doing some tests before we release her. It is unusual that a healthy young woman with no history of disease would pass out and remain unconscious as long as she did. You may as well go home. We'll call you.”

He shook his head. “Thanks, but I'll wait. She hasn't had anything to eat since around noon, so I imagine she's hungry.”

“We'll give her something as soon as we finish the tests.”

“Is there . . . Can I see her for just a minute?”

“I . . . uh . . . well, yes. Why not?”

He went back to where Marshall sat on the edge of his chair. “I just saw the nurse. Lacette is conscious. They're keeping her for tests. I'm going with the nurse to see her.”

He found her sitting on the side of a gurney, and her smile told him how glad she was to see him. “Your dad's here, too. Don't worry about anything. I'll call Lourdes tomorrow morning, andâ”

“But I want to be out of here tomorrow morning. I feel fine.”

His put an arm around her. “Let them take the tests. I'll be here when you're ready to leave.” He kissed her cheek and left, unable any longer to push back the lump that formed in his throat when he saw her so frail and fragile in that rough cotton hospital gown. He stood outside the room until he could regain his composure.

“Feisty as ever,” he told Marshall. “If you want to speak with her, I'll take you there.” He left Marshall at the door of Lacette's room and went back to the waiting room.

“You're staying?” Marshall asked him when he returned. Douglas nodded. “Then I'll get on home. If you need me, please call. Thank you for getting in touch with me. I won't forget it.” He shook hands and left.

About half an hour after daybreak, a nurse wheeled Lacette into the waiting room. She's ready to go, Mr. Rawlins. I'll wheel her down to the exit.” Lacette's smile seemed artificial, but he was too tired and sleepy to be certain. He called a taxi, took her home and up to her bedroom. She kicked off her shoes, unzipped the jumpsuit, stepped out of it and crawled into the bed.

She's not herself or she wouldn't have pulled that thing off in my presence
. He looked at the prescriptions and the doctor's note.

“What's this? Severe Aplastic Anemia? What does it mean?”

She turned on her side, her back to him. “It means I need a bone marrow transplant, and that's why I get so tired.”

“All right, don't be dispirited, honey. We'll find a donor, starting with your family and me. You'll be fine.”

“Thanks. I have to get it done at Johns Hopkins. They have a bone marrow transplant program. The doctor said I'm exhausted because I'm not producing red blood cells.”

He knelt beside the bed. “Listen to me, baby. I'd go if the program was in Alaska. You stay home today and rest. I'll get you some breakfast, and I'll come back with your lunch around one o'clock. I'd better call your father.”

“I'll go to Baltimore today to take the donor test, and I'll call Lacette's mother right now,” Marshall said. “If one of us doesn't match, we know Kellie will, so tell Lacette not to worry.”

The days passed and neither he nor either of Lacette's parents was a sufficiently close match for a bone marrow transplant. Increasingly distressed, Douglas asked Marshall why Kellie didn't go for the test.

“I asked her to do that the day Lacette came home from the hospital, but she's only given me excuses about work and Fayson.”

“Fayson? Surely he wouldn't attempt to prevent her from saving her sister's life.”

“Somehow, I don't think so,” Marshall said, “and if he tries, she should put him out of her life.”

Marshall couldn't know that his report of Douglas Rawlins's attentiveness to Lacette had resurrected Kellie's jealousy of her sister, her envy of the woman who Douglas Rawlins loved. “She's got everything, and I have nothing,” Kellie said to herself over and over all day that Tuesday. “People don't die because they don't have enough red blood cells. Hell,” she said, pushing her hair from her face and wishing she could go to a good hairdresser, “they drink tomato juice or eat Jell-O. It just takes longer to work.”

That night at the apartment she shared with Hal, after a meal of fried pork chops, mashed potatoes, and string beans, Hal pushed his glass to her, and she got up from the table, went to the refrigerator and brought him another glass of beer. He didn't say thanks, and she no longer expected it. “You oughta learn how to make decent mashed potatoes,” he said, “and them string beans was half raw. Beans and cabbage gotta be cooked real good and done, otherwise, they ain't shit.”

When she didn't answer, he said, “So I ain't good enough to converse with, huh? I oughta make you swallow your teeth. I'm going out.”

He liked to threaten her, but she knew he remembered her father's words because, angry as he'd get, he'd throw things around the apartment, but he didn't hit her. One of these nights, he'll come back here half soused, and I'll be gone, she told herself. But she'd made that promise to herself so many times since they moved in together. She sighed, cleaned the kitchen and took advantage of his absence to shower and give herself a manicure and pedicure. At ten o'clock, she crawled into bed and went to sleep.

“You mean she won't budge?” Douglas asked Marshall. “Did her mother tell her how important this is?”

“We both told her, and my sister told her that if she doesn't go for the test, she'll write a story about her and give it to the local scandal sheet. Not even that has worked so far.”

“She's good at blackmail,” Douglas remembered. “Maybe I'll try that tactic myself.”

He stood in the lobby of the City Hall building at the end of the next working day, which was Friday, and waited for Kellie. He didn't want Hal Fayson to see him talking with her, and he figured Fayson would meet her after work. As he'd known she would, her steps slowed when she saw him.

“You won't take a test and give up the bone marrow that could save your sister's life. How would you like it if I told Fayson that you propositioned me at a time when your were having an affair with him? He'd never trust you again, and he'd make your life hell. Unless you do the right thing for your sister, I'll tell him, and Jocko will confirm that you propositioned him, too, without success, I'll add.”

“You're crazy about her, aren't you? You've always been the one holding the aces; well, this time I have them. The only reason I'll do it is if you take me to bed and do a damned good job of it.”

His loud gasp attracted the attention of a man who passed them. “How can you make yourself so cheap?”

“Cheap?” She tossed her head. “I'd say that's pretty pricey, and it's that or nothing.”

She started past him, but he grabbed her arm. “Yes. You'd do that, wouldn't you? Lacette told me that from childhood, you wanted everything she had.”

“And I always got it, too.”

“So she said. Then you discarded it. All right. It's a deal, but only after you donate the bone marrow.”

“What if I take the test and it's negative?”

“After you donate the bone marrow. I keep my word, but I'm not sure about you.”

“Okay. I'll call you at the hotel when I'm ready for our date.”

He wouldn't call it a date. To be sure he could keep his end of the bargain, he went to a clinic in Boonsboroâwhere he wasn't knownâthat weekend and got a prescription for Viagra. As much as he disliked Kellie Graham, he'd need it.

The following Tuesday, Marshall called him with the news that Kellie had taken the test and was a perfect match. “I wonder why she finally did it,” he added.

Minutes later, he received a call from Lacette. “I'm going to Baltimore tomorrow for the transplant. I know you'll want to go with me, but you've lost so much time from work since I came from the hospital, that I . . . Why don't you come over when I get back home. Daddy will drive me to Baltimore and back.”

He appreciated her concern for him. He hadn't worked a full day since she was released from Frederick Memorial. “All right. Call me when you get home. I'll spend the night at your place in case you need me for anything.”

When he learned that Lacette wouldn't come home until Friday, he made plans to finish landscaping her property by the time she returned, and to have a little celebration with her at her home that night. However, Kellie had other plans for him.

She telephoned him at noon Friday. “I can be free tonight, and I don't know when I can manage it again. Meet me at the corner of Third and Market Streets at seven o'clock and figure out somewhere for us to go. Somewhere nice and somewhere out of Frederick.”

“I can't make it tonight,” he said.

“Oh, yes you can. If you don't, you can't even imagine how sorry you'll be.”

“Your threats don't scare me, but the sooner I get this over with, the better.”

He'd have to fix it up with Lacette somehow. After telling Marshall that something had come up that he couldn't get out of, he headed for his rendezvous with Kellie. Rain pouring in torrents nearly obscured his vision, but she was clearly visible at the bus stop. She hopped in, and he drove without speaking until he reached a motel just outside of Braddock Heights.

“I'll register,” he told her. “Wait here, unless you don't mind being recognized.”

“I'll wait here.” Douglas registered, stepped over to the water cooler and took the Viagra, and went back to the van for Kellie.

BOOK: Whatever It Takes

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