taken a turn for the worse.
“I know what you mean.”
“I have something to tell you,” she said. “It’s about the reason I was in Canada. I was interviewing for a new opening in my company.”
“Oh, yeah? How did it go?” he asked.
“I got the job.”
Cameron grinned. “That’s great news, Sarah. What will you be doing that’s different from what you do now?”
“For starters, I’ll be director of operations and living in London. I’m supposed to be in residence within the month. I already told them I’d do it before I found out about the crash. Now I don’t—”
Cameron held up a hand. “Stop right there. You have to know I’m going to be there for Laura in every way. This sounds like the job of a lifetime. Don’t let misplaced guilt sideline you, okay?”
She got teary all over again, but she was smiling.
“You are seriously the best thing that’s ever happened to Laura. I hope you know that.”
“It works both ways,” he said, and then looked away so she wouldn’t see his tears.
The next time visiting hour rolled around, they went in together, but as time passed, the stress of travel and worry finally pulled Sarah under, and now she was asleep on the sofa, leaving Cameron back in a chair. People came and went inside the waiting room, but he paid them no mind. He slept sitting up, and by seven in the morning, they were both awake and waiting for Laura’s doctor to make rounds.
Lake Chapala, Mexico
Hot pink jacaranda blooms in the courtyard between the retirement condos drooped in the hot afternoon sun. The teal-blue water in the shared pool was motionless. A red-and-white-striped life preserver was stalled near the middle of the pool, like an off-center belly button. It was siesta, a time to sleep through the hottest hours of the day, giving the aging residents a much-needed respite.
Hershel Inman and his wife, Louise, had always planned to retire to this place. But fate had changed their plans. When Louise died, so had Hershel’s dreams. In a way, he’d died, too, because when he finally moved into the retirement center, it was as retired businessman Paul Leibowitz. After years of enacting his own version of retribution, he’d finally done what he needed to and let go.
He liked condo living and puttering about in the little courtyard just outside his breakfast room. He liked the huge jacaranda blossoms and often floated one in a crystal bowl on his dining room table. He liked to think it gave his condo a feminine touch, something sadly lacking in his life.
He continued the slow process of having scar tissue removed, scheduling yet another surgery in Guadalajara only after he’d sufficiently healed from the previous one.
The elderly couple who lived across the courtyard had become his friends. He had eaten dinner at their home more than once in the past few months, and while he wasn’t much of a cook, he knew he needed to return the favor. He didn’t cook, but he’d acquired quite a taste for the local food and ate out more than in to satisfy his hunger for the spicy dishes.
Hershel rarely thought about the past other than with a sense of satisfaction. He had served his own brand of justice to the powers that be, and that knowledge gave him the ease he needed to get on with his life, and it had obviously given his deceased Louise spiritual rest, since she didn’t talk to him anymore.
It was only at night, when the world was quiet, that his life came back to haunt him. Most of the images were of Hurricane Katrina, of him and Louise clinging to the roof of their house as the floodwaters rose. In the dreams, Louise was in his arms crying for her insulin, begging to be rescued. And the dream always turned into a nightmare, just as life had, with him watching as she slowly slipped into a diabetic coma and died.
Every time he woke up, he was so angry he couldn’t take a breath without thinking he was going to puke. He got out of bed and prowled the house in bare feet, waiting for daybreak by drinking coffee and watching television, doing whatever it took to rebury the memories. By sunrise, copious amounts of caffeine had usually dulled his emotions.
At that point it was Paul who would begin his day with a long walk that always ended up at a local café for breakfast.
* * *
Sarah had stayed for five days and now had been gone for five more. She’d gone back to her job and the chaos of making a move to a foreign country, but it wasn’t until Laura had been moved from the ICU to a private room that she told her sister about the job promotion. To her relief, Laura seemed happy for her, which made everything easier.
In reality, Laura was proud of Sarah but at the same time a little sad she would be living so far away. But as each day passed, Laura grew stronger. Her ribs were healing, the stitches had come out of her leg and her lungs were clear.
She’d heard nurses talking about her imminent dismissal, and was anxious to be home. But the problem now was how to get there. She hadn’t mentioned it to the doctor or said anything to Cameron, but there was an issue that was going to hinder her homecoming. Denver was a long way from Washington, D.C., and she was afraid to get back on a plane, and yet it was something she knew she was going to have to face.
* * *
Cameron came into the hospital room carrying several shopping bags and smiling from ear to ear.
“What’s all this?” Laura asked, as he laid them on her lap and then gave her a quick kiss.
“Clothes. You can’t go home in a hospital gown, and the doctor said tomorrow is the day.”
“You bought me clothes? Ooh, I hope they fit.”
“Oh, they fit. I asked Sarah your sizes. She bought you underwear before she left, and I did the rest.”
“I can’t believe it!” Laura said, and began looking through the bags. “I love this sweater. It’s so soft, and it’s pink—one of my favorite colors. It will look great with these gray slacks. Oh, Cameron, you even got shoes and socks. These half boots will be perfect. Is there still snow?”
“Not here, but there is back home,” he said as he pulled the last two items out of a larger sack.
One was a winter coat made of soft gray wool, the other a small duffel bag to pack her things. The smile on her face warmed his heart.
“Cameron, I adore you! You’re the best. You thought of everything.”
He grinned. “I have us booked on a 2:00 p.m. flight tomorrow afternoon. It’s a nonstop straight into D.C. We’ll be home in time for dinner.”
When the smile froze on her face, he knew something was wrong.
“What is it, honey?”
She clutched his hand, her voice trembling.
“I’m scared to death to get back on a plane.”
He groaned inwardly. How stupid of him not to realize.
“I didn’t think. I’m sorry. I can rent a car and drive you back, but it will be a rough trip, and
