Authors: Linda Schmalz
Julia acknowledged the secret with a wink. An idea struck her. “Of course, you just can’t let
anybody
up there to see Mr. Wilmington,” she said. “But, I can assure you that I
am
family.” She hoped with all her heart that this plan would work. “You see, with Mr. Wilmington being an alias, I just now remembered that I was supposed to use an alias as well. If you would just call upstairs and let someone know that
Polly McTeel
is here, I’m sure there will be interest in my arrival.”
The woman reviewed her list. “There’s no Polly on this list either.”
“Please just call upstairs.” She wiped her brow. “I’ve come all this way.”
The woman shot her a suspicious look but picked up the phone. “If this doesn’t work, Ms. Riley, I’ll have to ask you to leave.”
Julia’s heart raced as the woman phoned the I.C.U. and stated that Polly McTeel had arrived. Julia knew this would cause interest on the other end of the phone. Sam’s Aunt Polly had been dead for sixteen years.
“I see,” the woman said into the receiver. “Yes, thank you, I will.” She hung up the phone. Her face drew taut and her smile faded. “If you’ll wait in our sitting area around the corner, someone from the unit will be down to speak with you. The family is
most
interested to see
you
again, rest assured.”
“Yes, thank you.” Julia released a breath she didn’t realize she held. She looked at her luggage. “May I leave these behind the desk until I return?”
The woman sighed. “Very well.”
Julia rolled the luggage behind the counter. “Thank you.” She walked into the waiting area, a warmly lit room decorated in shades of brown and orange. She sat for long moments until a woman’s voice called her name.
Julia stood, her body tense, her heart racing. Deirdre Lamont stood in the wide-open entrance to the waiting area. Julia would know her anywhere. Even after sixteen years, Deirdre’s beauty remained untouched by the hands of time. Her glamour cut Julia to the quick; she suddenly felt frumpy next to the composed, statuesque blonde. She ran a hand through her hair knowing she must look a fright after such a long plane ride.
Deirdre walked closer as Julia prepared herself for an admonishment for coming, or a sharp suggestion that she leave immediately. But, as Deirdre neared, Julia found weariness in her eyes and calmness in her demeanor. She wore a resigned smile, not a frown, anger or malice. This wasn’t the Deirdre Julia remembered.
“Julia.” Deirdre repeated the name as if she needed time to become used to it. “I should have known it was you. I highly doubted Polly rose from the grave and trekked on over to the hospital. I had to see who really popped up.”
“Hello,” Julia said, cautiously. Could she trust that half-hearted smile on that beautiful face?
Deirdre’s eyes fell to Julia’s wrinkled pantsuit. “Did you fly in from the States or were you in England when you heard the news?”
Julia ignored the barb, which hinted that she actually might always appear this undone. She knew Deirdre played gatekeeper to Sam, so she kept manners in check. “Spencer Budacker called me at my home in Illinois. How is Sam?”
Deirdre spoke flatly. “He’s finally stable, but not well. They’re running tests.”
“I’d like to see him.” Julia’s demand flew from her lips, surprising them both, but she hadn’t come all this way just to chat about him in the waiting area.
Deirdre ignored her request. “I never knew you and Sam remained friends all these years. You certainly have grown up since the last time I saw you. How old are you now?”
“Thirty-four.” Julia shifted her weight. What did her age have to do with anything?
“I wish I was in my thirties again, with the knowledge I have now, of course. Life may have turned out differently for all of us.”
Julia’s hands clenched. She had no idea what Deirdre’s cryptic words meant nor did she have the mental energy to figure it out.
“Look, I’ve come a very long way. I’d like to see Sam,
now
.”
She waited for another cutting remark, but none came. Instead, Deirdre’s stare fell to the floor. “I really thought you were out of the picture. But seeing you again, this cute little thirty-something you, clears up some questions.”
Julia bristled. Was Deirdre fishing for some confession? She had none to offer. She stood proud and looked Deirdre square in the eye. “Sam and I are barely friends.”
“Then why are you here?” She smiled coyly, but Julia sensed the sadness in her eyes told another tale.
“Sam asked me to come. At least that is what Spencer said.”
“Yes, I suspect as much. You see, Julia, you might think you’re barely a friend to Sam, but he always regarded you as so much more.” She shook her head and talked as if only to herself. “But that’s all right. I know you don’t understand how your presence brings everything into focus for me.”
Julia’s impatience rose as she listened. “Deirdre, we can chat later if you like, but I’m tired. Will you bring me to his room or not?”
Deirdre motioned for Julia to join her. “Come. I’ll take you to him.”
Julia quickly grabbed her purse and followed Deirdre into an elevator. Neither woman spoke.
As the elevator doors opened, Deirdre led Julia past the nurse’s station and halfway down another corridor. A few nurses greeted “Mrs. Lyons” and a pang of jealousy swept through Julia, knowing they did not refer to her. Deirdre nodded stiffly at the women as if she were queen of the ward.
“This is it.” Deirdre halted next to a closed door. “You can go in. I’ll join you, later.”
“Thank you.” She hated thanking Deirdre for anything, but she knew Deirdre had the power to keep her from Sam.
“Don’t stay long.” Deirdre’s eyes fixed on Julia’s and her voice faltered. “He tires so easily.” She turned away and headed down the hall.
Julia took a deep breath and opened the door.
Sam’s room was silent except for the delicate sound of a machine monitoring his respirations and heart rate. He was asleep, but Julia smiled through her disappointment. She walked to his bedside and watched him. At only forty-six, he appeared much older, but Julia knew illness had that affect. His hair had thinned, but beautiful strands of silver ran through it. His skin was pale, and his face, thin and drawn. A small, clear tube rested under his nose to help him breath.
Julia remembered back to the night they first met, sixteen years ago in Germany. He’d been so handsome, so kind, so much of a gentleman. Little did she know back then, that she’d be here in this hospital, listening to his labored breathing. She resisted the urge to stroke his cheek, afraid to wake him. He was still her beautiful Sam.
Tears threatened as memories of their time together in London flooded her mind. They were so young and happy. How did everything go so wrong?
She backed away from the bed and sat in a chair on the opposite wall and watched him. If Sam died, he’d never know his daughter. If he died, she would not have even a glimmer of hope that one day they might be together again. It was that one hope, that one dream of some impossible future together that made life bearable some days. Perhaps her dreams were selfish and wrong, but what did they hurt? She needed the fantasy, for she knew the reality would never be hers.
Julia put her head in her hands so if Sam woke, he wouldn’t see her crying. It hurt to see Sam like this. It hurt to see him, period.
She didn’t realize the door had opened and someone approached until a gentle hand touched her shoulder.
“Julia?” The accent was British, the voice familiar.
She looked up to find a very tall, handsome man with light reddish-blonde hair and startling blue eyes standing before her. She quickly wiped her tears, and accepted the handkerchief he offered.
“I’m sorry,” she said, quietly. “Do I know you?”
“I’m Spencer,” he whispered. “Spencer Budacker. I telephoned you. We met years ago at a party when you were in London with Sam.”
Julia studied the man’s face. Recognition dawned. She had seen him somewhere else over the years. “And aren’t you that English tennis player, as well?”
He grinned and blushed. “Well, yes, but I’m retired now.” He glanced at Sam. “He’ll be happy you’re here.”
“He will?” She shook her head at her need for reassurance. “I had to come.”
“I know. He talked about you quite often through the years.”
Julia fell quiet.
Spencer knelt and took her hands. “Julia. You and I hardly know each other. I’ve been Sam’s closest friend through thick and thin. You must believe me that he’s a good person. Despite his physical condition, there’s never been a stronger, loyal or more…
understanding
man.”
“I want to believe that. I did, once.”
“Whatever he’s done over the years, if it wasn’t for a good reason, he didn’t do it. You have to believe that.”
Julia didn’t know what to say to this man who so strongly defended Sam. Should she tell him that she loved Sam with more passion than Spencer defended him?
“How is he?’ she finally said. “Will he recover from the heart attack? You didn’t tell me much on the phone.”
Spencer stared at her, confused. “Deirdre didn’t tell you?”
“Tell me what?” Her heart raced. “She and I barely spoke.”
He squeezed Julia’s hands. “He didn’t have a heart attack, Julia. We lied to the press to keep his true condition under wraps. Sam wants it that way or they’ll hound him through this entire bloody ordeal.”
A lump formed in her throat. “What’s wrong with him? Why did he collapse?”
Spencer’s eyes misted as he looked away.
“Stage four lung cancer, Julia. Sam’s terminal.”
Spencer remained with Julia until Sam awoke. “I’ll leave you now,” he whispered. “Pull your chair up closer to his bed.”
Julia pulled her chair over to Sam’s bedside as Spencer quietly left the room. She watched his face as he fought to pull out from the depths of sleep. His eyes flickered behind closed lids. She wanted to place her hand on his, to let him know that she was here, yet she hesitated.
As Sam slowly opened his eyes, his head turned toward her. She remained silent as his gaze fixed to her own. For so long she imagined looking into his eyes again and being with him, but not like this. Never like this.
He blinked, and spoke softly. “Julia.”
“Yes, Sam, I’m here.”
He smiled. “You came. Or are you an angel come to take me away?”
Julia’s eyes filled with tears as she now touched his hand. “I’m really here.”
He studied her face. When he spoke, his voice came raspy and weak. “I knew you’d come. I’ve waited a long time.” Sam’s hand covered hers. “Did you have to slay the Deirdre Dragon to get to me?”
“No. She was… accommodating.”
“Ah. The old girl can be quite surprising at times.”
Julia didn’t answer. She didn’t want to talk about Deirdre.
“Help me sit up a bit, won’t you, love?” Sam motioned with his head towards a remote control attached by a wire to the wall. “Just push the button on that thing, and raise me up.”
Julia obliged, and Sam sat upright. She adjusted the pillows behind his head, feeling his eyes follow her as she moved about.
“Thank you.” Sam smiled. “Now I can see your lovely face better and we can chat, yes?”
Julia smiled. “I came the minute I heard. The press said you had a heart attack.”
Sam’s face drew melancholy. “No, if you recall, my heart broke long ago.”
“Sam-”
“It’s in my lungs. The big C. I’m at the end now. Personally, I thought they should at least allow me a smoke if they were going to deliver news like that.” He chuckled. “But I guess not.” He looked to the window as his voice faded. “This ship is sinking.”
Tears rolled down her face as Julia brought Sam’s hand to her cheek. “I don’t want to believe it.”
He let go of her hand, and gently stroked her hair. “They give me six months ‘to live’. What is six months? A hundred and eighty days at best? And here I am stuck in this hospital. One can’t live in this place. It’s full of sick people.”
Julia laughed through her sobs. “Stop it. Don’t joke.”
“I want to see you smile, not cry, love.”
She reached for a tissue from his bed tray. “Sam, I’m so sorry. I always thought we would have more time. I hoped I’d figure out how to be with you without hurting anyone.”
“Well, the time is up for thinking. It’s time for action. And since I only have a hundred and eighty days, more or less, I need your help.”
“Me?”
“You’ve said in the past that you loved me and will always love me, yet you’ve chosen not to be with me, even after I offered to divorce Deirdre five years ago.”
“I do love you,” Julia said. Time ran short for refraining from speaking the truth stored in her heart. “But I have a family-”
“Prove you love me like you say you do. Be with me until my unfortunate demise.” He looked away.