in high school. She’d attended her senior prom. She’d gone out a few times with guys from business school. But losing her parents and living with an aunt who pretended Laura didn’t exist had made her yearn for self-sufficiency. In an era of girls learning that sex was fun, she wasn’t so sure. Before she gave herself to anyone, she had to be certain they’d have more than one night, one date, one groping session to build on. Besides, she was Catholic and the teachings of her parochial-school days had stuck whether she liked it or not. Deep down, she’d believed in the idea of saving herself for the man she’d spend her life with.
Yet, one look at this man, one fall into his eyes and she felt all trembly.
The police had surrounded the gathering now, watching just as the wavy-haired man was watching.
Suddenly an old bus rattled to the curb. The front and back doors opened simultaneously and twenty-five to thirty more protesters filed out. The bus’s arrival surprised everyone, including the police. The officers spread out. Laura heard one patrolman encouraging the new protesters to get back on the bus. But they were on a mission, even if they were late.
They shouted in unison, “Bring our boys home now!”
Then all at once, nothing was peaceful anymore.
As bedlam erupted, someone caught Laura’s wrist. When she turned, she was standing toe-to-toe with…him.
“You’ve got to get out of here,” he said, “or you’ll be arrested. Or worse.”
From demonstrations that had gone before at colleges and in other towns, she knew anything could happen.
He tugged on her arm. “This way.”
Without a second thought, she followed him across the street as he somehow kept her safe from a station wagon that almost mowed them down. As they ran up the block, Mr. Blue-eyes slipped the sign from her hands and dumped it in an office doorway. They kept up their fast pace until he guided her around the corner where the public library stood.
Breathless, they stopped.
“Are you okay?” he asked, placing his hand protectively on her back, peering into her face.
“I guess.” Her voice was shaky from everything that had happened—from running…from being so close to him. Yet underneath it all, she felt indignant. “We could have demonstrated peacefully.” She added angrily, “If only everyone had just kept their cool.”
“Have you demonstrated before?”
She shook her head. “No. That was my first.”
“And your last?” His eyes looked a bit amused now.
“No! Absolutely not. I don’t want to see anyone else sent over there.”
“I’m going to be going over there.”
She stared at him, dumbstruck.
He was six inches taller than she was, at least six-two. His shoulders were so broad. He was a stranger and she shouldn’t have just followed him like that, but no one could tell her now what she should or shouldn’t do. She was twenty and becoming liberated day by day.
Eager to know more about him, she asked, “When are you going?”
“I’ll be called up as soon as I graduate.”
“Graduate from where?”
“Lehigh Valley. I’m just home on break.” He extended his hand to her. “Brady. Brady Malone.”
His fingers felt so wonderfully warm engulfing hers. He didn’t exactly shake her hand, but rather just held it.
“Laura. Laura Martinelli.”
Ten more buses could have stopped at the curb and expelled demonstrators, but they wouldn’t have noticed.
“I have a car,” he said. “It’s parked in the public lot. Would you like to go for a burger and shake?”
“That depends,” she decided. “Will I be safe with you?”
“You’ll be as safe as you want to be.”
This Brady Malone was obviously a lot more experienced than she was. But instinct told her she had nothing to fear from him.
Nothing at all.
As Laura finished recounting the first time she’d met Brady, Sean studied her and asked thoughtfully, “So you just went off with him without knowing him?” His voice didn’t hold reproach, rather surprise.
“Yes. But don’t tell your sister. It’s not something I ever want her to do.”
“Don’t want me to do what?” Kat asked, suddenly standing in the waiting room, a soda in her hand.
“I was telling Sean how I met your dad. It was at an antiwar protest.”
Kat’s eyes grew big.
But before her daughter could ask questions, Dr. Gregano appeared, a serious expression on his face.
Chapter 2
When Laura opened the glass door into Brady’s CICU cubicle a few minutes later, she drew in a huge, bolstering breath. She felt so responsible for what was happening now…the condition he was in. The last thing she ever wanted was to hurt him.
Brady was hooked up to monitors, IVs, oxygen and a blood pressure cuff. The leads on his chest were producing the green lines—the hills and peaks on the largest monitor. He was so white, so lifeless, that she feared she’d lost him already. She was paralyzed for a moment, afraid to go forward. She’d been afraid so many times with Brady. But she’d covered it, and in acting strong she’d discovered strength—when he’d returned home from the army, when she’d tried to get pregnant, after they’d adopted Sean. Although when their baby had died of SIDS, Brady had been the strong one.
She only had ten minutes with him, so she dragged the orange vinyl chair to the bed. Nurses bustled in and out constantly. To have a few seconds alone with her husband, she’d have to talk to him now. Who knew what could happen next?
She covered his hand, the one without the IV line, with hers. He was cool to the touch, not at all like the man who always emanated heat. He could be hot in the dead of winter, when her hands and nose were usually cold.
“Brady,” she whispered.
When there was no response, she cleared her throat and said his name again, louder.
His eyes fluttered but didn’t open.
“Brady, it’s Laura. I’m so sorry. I never should have pushed you—” Her voice broke. Regaining her composure, she said, “I love you. You have to fight. You can’t let anything happen now. I want to be married to you for another thirty-three years.”
She kept talking. “Soon the doctors will determine exactly what’s wrong. You have to cooperate with them. You have to fight to get well. Kat and Sean and I need you.”
“Sean,”
