Hannah's List (Blossom Street #7)

Hannah's List (Blossom Street #7) Page 38

Leanne was well aware of what might happen once the

enemy got hold of him. The evening news had been filled

with nightmarish accounts of beheadings and brutal

beatings. The fact that these men and women weren't

military, were just contract workers, didn't seem to matter. "We don't know what's going on," Muriel told her again.

"The company's promised us they're doing everything in

their power to rescue Mark."

"He should never have been in that helicopter in the first

place," Leanne cried, lashing out in her pain.

Muriel sobbed. "I...I agree."

The silence stretched between them. Leanne was afraid

to close her eyes for fear of the appalling images that would

come to life.

"I felt you'd want to know," Muriel said again. "Thank you."

They disconnected, but for a long time Leanne held on

to her cell. She struggled to assimilate this terrible news.

Ever since her divorce, her family and friends had insisted

she should get on with her life. Her counselor, too, had

advised her to focus on the future.

Leanne had done that, or tried to. She'd gotten involved

in the Kids with Cancer program and had organized the

volunteers for the picnic. She'd gone out with friends,

joined a reading group, taken a class on new cancer therapies. She'd dated Michael Everett. Nothing had worked.

Nothing had eased the ache in her heart. She loved Mark.

She'd never stopped loving him. She realized it the Sunday

she'd driven to Yakima; she knew it when she heard he'd

taken a job in Afghanistan.

Now it might be too late to tell him she still cared, still

needed him. She'd followed everyone's advice, did her best

to move on, and to a certain extent she had.

As soon as she returned to the hospital, she went to see

her supervisor.

Janet glanced up from her desk and frowned. "Leanne,

what's wrong?"

"I need a leave of absence as soon as possible," Leanne

said, unable to keep the tremor out of her voice. "What's wrong?" Janet asked again, sounding alarmed. Leanne told her about Muriel's call.

"What will you do? Where will you go?"

Leanne didn't have an answer. "I don't know yet...but

I'm too upset to be any good to anyone here. I need to be where I can get information about Mark, no matter what

it is."

"Where would that be?"

Janet forced her to think logically. "With his parents in

Spokane." She took a deep breath. "They shouldn't be alone." "Then that's where you need to go."

Leanne nodded, grateful that her friend understood. "Go home," Janet said. "Now."

"But my patients--"

Janet removed her glasses and set them aside. "I'll take

over for the rest of the day and I'll arrange your leave. Like

you said, you're too emotional to work right now. I'll call

you once I've talked to HR."

"Thank you," Leanne whispered. Janet had helped her

figure out what to do. Sometime in the next few days,

she'd leave to be with Mark's family. They'd support one

another through this.

Janet stood and hugged her. "Do you have any idea

how long you'll be away?"

"No..."

"I'll be praying for you and Mark and your family." "Thank you."

Leanne didn't remember the drive home or dragging her

suitcase out of the spare-room closet. She'd just finished

packing when she got a call from Janet telling her that the

leave of absence had been arranged.

"Keep us updated," Janet said.

"I will and thank you so much."

Ten minutes later, she let the building super know she'd be away. Then she carried her suitcase outside and thrust

it in the trunk of her car.

Not until she was in the driver's seat did she think to

call her former in-laws to explain her intentions. Shuffling through her purse, she searched for her cell

phone. It wasn't in the side pocket where she normally kept

it. When she finally located it in the bottom of her purse,

she heaved a sigh of relief. Her fear was that, traumatized

as she was, she'd left it at the bus stop.

Holding it gratefully with both hands, she pressed the

button that would redial the number of the last call

received. Brian Lancaster answered on the first ring. "Hello?" He sounded anxious, no doubt worried that

this was the call he'd been dreading.

"It's Leanne."

Brian took an audible breath. "Muriel phoned you?" "Yes." She didn't elaborate. "I'm driving to Spokane.

Can I stay with you and Muriel until...until..." She left

the rest unsaid and held her own breath; she felt as if her

lungs might explode.

"Should you be driving?" he asked. Brian was the practical one in the family. Levelheaded, competent, rational,

and Leanne admired him. Mark was a lot like his father. She released her breath. "Probably not, but I'm coming, anyway."

"Will anything I say stop you?"

"No."

Brian's voice cracked. "I think we all need to be prepared

for the worst. Come. Stay as long as you like. Muriel needs you and, frankly, I don't think I can help her get over the

death of our son...."

Brian had always been strong, the dock everyone had

tied their boats to in the crazy storm that had struck their

family. He'd stood by Mark, hired a good attorney for his

son, helped his daughter settle into a new life and remained

the bulwark of strength they all relied on. But this--the

thought of losing Mark, his only son--was more than

even he could bear.

"I'm on my way," Leanne whispered.

After a long pause, he whispered back. "Thank you."

Chapter Thirty

Macy and I never really got a chance to talk in any detail about why she'd suddenly disappeared from my office or where she'd gone the previous Friday. I thought it had something to do with one of her many au

ditions. But then the pizza arrived and the two of us joined Harvey and chatted happily over dinner and beer. When we'd finished, I helped clean up and then we went to Macy's to feed the animals. I'd never considered myself a cat person, but I realized it was because I hadn't been around them very often. I was becoming fond of Macy's three, and they seemed to reciprocate the sentiment. Sammy had accepted me, too, so I was friends with all the furry denizens of 255 Jackson Avenue, all the creatures who seemed to understand that I loved Macy as much as they did.

Once they were fed, Macy and I cuddled on her sofa and watched television. Instead of talking about her insecurities, trying to deal with the differences between us, we kissed. Soon coherent thought vanished. Soon all I could think about was how good it felt to have this woman in my arms. This warm, whimsical, vibrant woman.

My feelings for Macy had intensified since her accident. In the past few days, I'd found that my thoughts constantly turned toward her: what she was doing, who she was rescuing--even what she was humming. She's such a natural with people; kids and animals love her. Macy's impulsive and nonconformist, yet that's all part of her appeal.

Unlike Macy, I rarely act on impulse, but I did the next Tuesday morning. Macy had a radio spot she was recording today; yesterday she'd had another audition--a callback, she'd told me proudly. I wanted to give her a gift; I wanted her to know how glad I was that she'd come into my life. The idea of replacing her bicycle occurred to me, and I remembered the small shop where I'd purchased the bikes for Hannah and me.

As I'd hoped, they were still in business. I called the store and described Macy's unique personality; Mel Wellborn, the owner, laughed and said he had just the bike for her. I looked at the picture on his Web site and had to agree. It was pink with orange tassels on the handlebars and limegreen pedals. Apparently, a clown had special-ordered it and then changed his mind. Mel quoted a price that made my head spin, but I couldn't refuse. The picture on the Internet proclaimed that this was the perfect bike for Macy, so I bought it and was told I could pick it up that evening.

I called her during my lunch break. Fortunately--since, predictably, she didn't have a cell phone--she hadn't left for the studio yet. "Are you going to be home tonight?" I asked.

"Yes..." The hesitation in her voice gave me pause. "I'd like to stop by."

"Okay."

"Are you sure you aren't too busy?" I asked.

"Michael, I want to see you."

"I can come another night if you prefer."

"No...no. I have something I'm dying to tell you." Her voice bubbled with excitement.

"Tell me now," I urged.

"I want to wait until I see you. This is just the most wonderful thing that's happened to me since...since I met you."

Her words brought me a sense of contentment. "Meeting you has been wonderful for me, too, Macy."

Macy went from effusive to silent. "Do you mean that, Michael?" she asked after a moment.

"With all my heart."

She was quiet again.

"What time will you be home?" I asked.

"The earliest I can make it is six--make that six-thirty in case I'm late leaving the studio. I really am trying to be on time, you know."

"I do know," I assured her.

After a few words of farewell, I hung up the phone, but my hand stayed on the receiver, as though I could hold on to that connection with Macy.

After more than a year of lonely grief, of self-imposed isolation, I found that I craved the company of others. Craved evenings with Macy and her menagerie of people and pets, playing poker with my friends, laughing again. Because of Macy I'd stepped out of the shadows.

At the end of the day I left the office as early as possible, then drove straight to the bicycle shop to get Macy's gift. Mel was an older guy who, like many small-business owners, offered great personal service. I hadn't considered how I'd transport the bike, so I had to purchase a bike carrier for the car, which I hoped Macy and I would put to good use.

Mel installed the carrier, and I loaded up the bike, driving first to the wine boutique, then to Macy's house. I could hardly wait to see her face suffused with delight when she saw this crazy bike.

Her car was parked outside, so I knew she was home. I pulled in behind her. These days I smiled when I saw her house with the bright red shutters and the white picket fence. Even now, it looked like something out of a fairy tale to me. I could believe that one day I'd find Sleeping Beauty inside having tea with Cinderella--and Macy.

Before I'd climbed out of the car, Macy opened her front door and dashed down the steps. By the time I made it through the gate, she'd launched herself into my embrace, twining her arms around my neck. I grabbed her by the waist and swung her around.

"I'm so glad you're here," she said fervently.

I kissed her because it was impossible not to. I couldn't be this close to her and resist. But she was so lovely I had trouble taking my eyes off her, even to kiss her.

"I want to tell you my news," she said, breaking off the kiss.

I set her back down on the sidewalk and waited for her to speak. But before she did, she placed her hands on either side of my face and kissed me again.