Chapter 5
Spencer couldn’t get his mind off Emily. When she fell crying into his arms, it was as if she left a permanent indentation. It felt like she belonged there, and he felt empty without her. It felt like she needed him, and he liked it. And when she told him about her mom’s pregnancy at the hospital, he felt important, maybe even honored. They weren’t telling anyone outside the family, but they told him. And he’d make sure he was worthy of the honor. He’d never tell anyone, not even his family, about what was really going on with Mrs. Gherring. He wouldn’t risk being responsible for a leak that made it to the tabloids. He’d never do anything to hurt Emily or her family.
Somewhere in the back of his mind, he knew he needed to get a handle on his feelings for Emily. She’d made it clear they would never be more than friends. But the more time he spent with her, the closer he got to her, and the more he wanted to spend time with her. It was a terrible spiral that could only lead to heartache. For the first time, he understood why some of those girls would come crying about wanting more from him. He’d always been baffled by their emotional outbreaks. He’d been consistently clear about only wanting friendship. Had he led those girls on? He’d thought as long as he didn’t get physical with them, they wouldn’t really develop feelings for him. But look what was happening to him now. If his current feelings were any indication, his so-called harmless flirtations had been quite hurtful.
He strolled casually past Emily’s desk, where she was hard at work and concentrating as usual. He could probably dance around naked beside her desk without her noticing. He grinned at the thought. That could be fun... Abruptly the vibration of his cell phone interrupted his thoughts. It was a number he didn’t recognize.
“Hello?”
“Hi Spencer. It’s Candace.”
“Hi... uhmm... Why are you calling?”
“It’s nothing really. I just... I was like, kind of worried about Mrs. Gherring. You know, like, she didn’t look so good after the hike. And I was like, I wonder if she’s okay. You know?”
“Well, it’s none of my business or yours, really. As far as I know, she’s perfectly fine.”
“Okay. Well good. I wanted to make sure she isn’t dying or anything.”
“Why would you think she was dying? What are you talking about?”
“Nothing. I was like... You know... There was a picture in the paper this morning...”
“What paper? What picture?”
“The NYC Word. It’s a picture of her and… Well it’s a bit blurry, but it looks like Mr. Gherring carrying Mrs. Gherring into the emergency room. And you know, the story said she might be, like, dying. So, I wondered...”
“That paper is trash, and you shouldn’t be reading it. And she’s not dying. I’m working, and I’ve got to go.”
Spencer glanced back toward Emily’s desk to make sure she hadn’t heard anything. She was still bent over her computer. Should he tell her about the paper? Should he tell Mr. Gherring? Yes, Gherring would want to know, but he shouldn’t tell Emily. She’d only be upset.
He sent a text to Gherring’s cell phone, apprising him of the tabloid picture. Hopefully, with a really blurry photo, no one would take any stock in the story.
Back at the break room, he poured himself a cup of coffee. Then he got a great idea… He could make Emily a cup of tea—she’d have to notice him if he brought tea to her. He carried both cups over to her desk, and stood waiting patiently, but she never looked up from her work. Finally, he bent over to put the tea on her desk.
“I brought you—”
“Oh!” She jerked spasmodically at the sound of his voice, flinging her arm and knocking the tea out of his grasp. He jumped back, but not before the hot liquid flew through the air and landed on his pant leg. His sudden movement jostled the coffee in his left hand, sloshing it onto his shirtsleeve.
“Oh... I’m sorry. You startled me.”
He stood dripping before her, surveying his drenched clothes. Oh well, at least she was paying attention to him. When she gave him an embarrassed smile, he decided it was probably worth it. When she asked, “Was that tea? For me? How sweet!” he decided it was definitely worth it.
She ran to the bathroom and returned with a handful of paper towels with which he mopped vainly at his sodden clothes.
“Uhmm, I was wondering if you wanted to go climbing Tuesday night. And I thought maybe we could get some pizza.”
“Well, I’ve already got plans. I’m—”
“That’s okay. Maybe another time.” Of course she’d have plans. What was he thinking?
“Wait. I’m going with your sister.”
“My sister?”
“Grace. I’m going with Grace to an art class.”
At least it wasn’t another guy, but he disliked this development on so many levels. His sister was way too nosey. She’d be trying to meddle in their friendship. And now, he’d have to compete with Grace for Emily’s time. It wasn’t fair. He was trying to be so careful and not make any big mistakes. Grace would be able to plunder in and become best friends with her. And Grace would be able to get reports from Emily about what Spencer had been doing. It would be even harder to hide his growing feelings for Emily from Grace.
“Oh. Okay.”
“We could maybe go on Wednesday. If you wanted.”
Spencer cursed under his breath. “I promised to help Papa with a project on Wednesday night. Maybe Thursday?”
“There’s this jazzercise class I was planning to go to. Pizza after?”
“Absolutely.” This wasn’t going to be easy. Especially when he was trying desperately to appear so casual about the whole friend thing.
He started to walk away, still holding the damp paper towels.
“Oh, and Spencer?” He turned back to see her cast him a crooked smile. “Thanks for the tea.” He swallowed a lump in his throat. He was in trouble.
* * *
Anne hated the hospital.It was cold and hard and scary and full of germs. Really sick people came to the hospital and left their microbes behind. She wasn’t usually a germaphobe, but hospitals were different. Everyone had on gloves and a mask when they entered her room—everyone but her. Where was her protection? Was she supposed to be protected by that squirt of antiseptic lotion from the container hanging on the wall in the hallway? Even though no less than five million germy hands had touched the dispenser? She imagined the tiny bugs suspended in the air, riding on invisible air conditioning currents and floating in through her nostrils. Did they collect on her nose hairs? If she blew her nose a hundred times a day could she blow them all out before they wormed their way into her interior?
She hadn’t been in the hospital very many times—once for each birth, and once for a broken ankle. The one thing she remembered from previous experience was still true… No one would let her sleep. The nurses made a habit of coming into her room multiple times during the middle of the night, flipping on the lights and taking her vitals. What are vitals anyway? It must have something to do with vitality, because after a night of having her vitals taken, she never had any vitality left. And why did the guy with the little bucket of vials and needles feel the best time to draw blood from her arm was at three a.m.?
Steven had slept in her room on a hard little couch that made into a hard little bed—little being the operative word. His feet were hanging off the end, and his arms were dragging on the floor—the germy floor. She’d tried to make him go home to sleep, but he silenced her with his piercing blue eyes beneath a no-nonsense scowl. He was looking for a fight, and she didn’t have the strength to engage. But by morning, he was firmly on her side when she begged to go home. Though it hardly seemed possible, he looked more exhausted than she did.
Being a man who was used to getting his way, he set about to make things happen. Money was never an issue, except for its utility to get what he wanted. When the doctor came by to talk about Anne’s treatment plan, Steven had already arranged for Spencer’s mother to be her full-time nurse at the apartment. Although the doctor looked as if she might object, she quickly recognized Steven was unstoppable when he was on a mission.
“Okay, so the nurse? What did you say her name was?”
“Connie Marshall.”
“She’ll need to administer according to this IV prescription. And she’ll need to keep exact records and report vitals. I’m going to need lab work at regular intervals. We’ll have to make adjustments each day based on her lab results. We can’t know yet whether she’ll need TPN in the future.”
He was nodding his head. “Yes, yes. I understand. We’ll do everything by the book and communicate with your office.”
“And if her vitals start dropping, you’ll have to come back to the hospital.”
“Yes, of course,” he said impatiently. “Now if you’ll please sign the release form.”
He checked a text message that buzzed on his cell phone and his lips formed an expletive.
“What’s wrong?” Anne asked.
“It’s nothing. Just something else I need to take care of.”
“Everything’s backing up at work, and I’m no help at all. Could you let me work a little bit from home? I’d feel so much better. Like I’m contributing something. Right now I feel like a leech.”
He smiled at her. “But you’re such a cute little leech.”
“Steven, I’m serious.”
“No, you can’t work from home. Perhaps after we’re certain you’re not going to pass out at a moment’s notice.”
“What about the Switzerland trip in two weeks? Will I get to go?”
“No,” replied the doctor, not even bothering to look up from her paperwork.
“But what if I’m better by then?”
The doctor ignored her question. “Mr. Gherring,” she said as she handed him the release form. “I hope you’re making the right decision. I can’t be responsible for—”
“I’m well aware of the liability issues here. I know we’re responsible for whatever happens outside of this hospital.”
“As long as you know.” The doctor slipped out the door.
“I’m going home now?”
“Yes, but... I need to take some precautions.”
“What type of precautions?”
“Just relax for a bit.” He disappeared from the room and came back twenty minutes later with a surgical gown, hat and mask, a baseball cap, and a huge teddy bear.
“Put your hair up in this cap and sit in the wheelchair with the teddy bear,” he ordered while donning the surgical gear. “We’re not going out the front door; we’re going out the side. And I called a taxi—we can’t walk outside and climb into a limousine. I think they may have spotted us coming in, so we need to avoid them going out.”
“Who’s they? The press?”
“No. You know... It was just people. I overheard someone saying something about us coming in a limo, and they were wondering who we were. So I want to be more careful this time.”
“Okay.”
“Ready to go?”
“Yes, but...” She looked at him and started giggling.
“What? What’s so funny?”
“Could you keep that stuff at home for later on? I’ve always had this fantasy about doing it with a doctor.”
* * *
Emily knockedon the penthouse door. She was so relieved when Steven called her after work to say her mom was out of the hospital. But she was nervous they’d taken her advice and hired Spencer’s mother to be their nurse. What if they didn’t like her? What if they fired her for some reason? She’d be mortified to face any of the Marshalls again. Steven yelled for her to come in. She opened the door to discover her mom sitting on the couch, attached to an IV bag hanging from a mobile pole.
“Hey, Mom. You look better. How do you feel?”
“Better now I’m away from that awful place. How does anyone get better in a hospital?”
“And you’re eating?”
“Yes, and we’re figuring out what my triggers are. I can’t stand food with strong smells. Everything has to be really bland. And I can’t eat and drink at the same time. But I’ve eaten three crackers since two o’clock and they didn’t come back up.” She seemed quite proud of this accomplishment.
Emily was thinking this was too much information, so she changed the subject. “Where’s Connie?”
“She’s gone home for the night,” said Steven. “She’s only going to be here while I’m at work, and she’s on call if we have a question or an emergency.”
“Do you like her?”
“She’s really sweet,” said Anne. “I like her a lot.”
“She’s keeping the location of her job confidential with her daughters,” said Steven. “Her story is she got a private nursing job, which is true. And I’ll make sure she gets a great reference for her next job.”
“But Spencer knows?” Emily asked.
“Spencer’s in the loop. He helped us get everything set up with his mother. And he’s the one who warned me about...” His words stopped abruptly.
“Warned you about what?” asked Anne.
“Uhmm... about... his family... being so close and all. That it might be good to keep his sisters in the dark.”
“I thought that was Connie’s idea,” said Anne.
“Uhmm, yes, they were thinking along the same lines.”
“So what’s for dinner?”
“I ordered food to be delivered, so your mom doesn’t have to smell it cooking. Some pastas and salad.” He turned to Anne. “I’m hoping you might be able to stomach some pasta with or without sauce.”
“Maybe.” She scrunched up her nose.
“So Mom, I’m going to an art class tomorrow night.”
“Really? That sounds fun. How did you hear about it?”
“I’m going with Grace. That’s Spencer’s oldest sister.”
“So, does this mean you’re getting closer to Spencer?”
“Lay off, Mom. He’s really nice and all, but he’s a player. You told me so yourself.”
“I said that? I think what I said was there are always girls hanging around him.” She cocked her head to the side. “So what do these sisters look like?”
“Well three of them are tall—taller than me. And Grace, the oldest one is short. She only comes up to here.” She held her hand up to her chin.
“You know, it’s possible some of the girls I saw hanging around were his sisters.”
“Oh... Well Grace made a comment about him having a lot of female friends. I guess she could have been teasing, but he didn’t deny it.” She paused, pursing her lips. “Maybe I’ll find out the real truth from Grace.”
“That’s a good idea—he’s been so sweet.”
“Yes, but we’re only friends, Mom. Don’t push.”
“I’m not,” Anne said innocently. “But I’m trying to find a match for him. Remember? One of my nurses was about the right age. Tall and thin. Pretty. Maybe she’d be a good match.”
She felt a small knot in her stomach. “I don’t think he’d like to date a nurse. They wouldn’t have anything in common.”
“She said she liked doing outdoors stuff. They might have that in common.”
“Oh.” Emily was irritated. And her irritation irritated her even more. “Well, I still think he’s not interested right now.”
“We’ll see… I’m sure Connie will be helpful. And we’ll be together eight hours a day. I don’t know why you’re doubting my abilities. I have a pretty good track record.”
Steven grinned. “Let’s see... How many different women did you consider as my possible mate?”
“Okay, I didn’t do so well with you. But that’s because you kept messing with my mind.”
“That’s because I wanted to mess with more than your mind.”
Emily spoke in a pleading voice. “Could you two please remember there are innocent ears in the room?”
“You mean you don’t want to hear how I fantasized about your mom—”
“Na-na-na-na. I’m not listening. Na-na-na-na.” Emily put her fingers in her ears.
Anne giggled. “Oh. I haven’t really felt good enough to laugh in a while. But it makes me dizzy.”
With a knock at the door, their food was delivered. Steven and Emily ate at the table to keep any strong food aroma away from Anne, who managed to swallow a few bites of pasta while sitting on the couch.
“I’m going to be so out of shape by the time this is over,” complained Anne. “The doctor said I shouldn’t stress my body with exercise. When I was pregnant with y’all, I was doing all my normal exercise the whole time. I hardly slowed down at all.”
“Well, I think I shouldn’t try to do an Iron Man competition this summer. I’m already getting behind on my training.”
“But, I hate for you to miss it. If we have a baby—”
“When we have the baby,” he said. “When we have the baby, I can still do a competition next year. I’m not planning to drop the training altogether. I don’t have to do it every year, as long as I don’t slack off too much.”
“Maybe next year, Spencer could do an Iron Man competition. Y’all could maybe train together,” said Emily. She noticed her mom’s smug smile. “And my suggestion doesn’t mean anything. He’s only a friend. And you have to promise you won’t talk about me to Connie.”
“Well, of course I’m going to talk about my children to Connie. And she’ll talk about hers as well. That’s what moms do.”
“You know what I mean.”
“Yes, I do.”
“So, you promise?”
“I promise.”
At her easy capitulation, she was suspicious. “What exactly are you promising?”
“I promise I know what you mean.” Her mom’s smile was way too devious.
* * *
Tuesday morning,Grace called Spencer at work, and alarms went off in his head. They communicated every day, but usually with a text or two. And she’d never called him at work before. His mind was quickly filled with images of accidents and emergencies, as he hurried to answer.
“Grace? What’s wrong?”
“Why do you think something’s wrong? Can’t a girl call her brother unless there’s a problem?”
“Not you. What’s wrong?”
“It’s just... I didn’t know if I should even bother you. But I saw these pictures of Mr. and Mrs. Gherring in the paper.”
“Oh, yeah, I heard about that yesterday. But it’s a pretty blurry picture, right? I mean, you can’t really tell for sure who they are?”
“Well, yesterday’s was like that, but today’s picture is really clear. I don’t know what she looks like, but it’s definitely Steven Gherring.”
“Today’s picture?”
“Yes, today’s picture shows them walking together. And she looks really sick, and she’s hanging onto his arm.” She paused and cleared her throat. “It looks like they’re coming off a hiking trail.”
Spencer’s stomach was instantly in knots. “Did she have on a pink tank top? And was his shirt white?”
“Yep.”
“And what does the story say?”
“It’s something awful about her having some mystery ailment the doctors can’t cure. They talk about her body wasting away and so forth. It even says something about Gherring getting back on the Most Eligible Bachelors list.”
Before he could stop himself, a curse slipped from his mouth.
“Spencer! Watch your mouth. Anyway, it’s only a tabloid story.”
“You don’t understand how Mrs. Gherring is about this stuff. She gets mortified. Mr. Gherring’s going to be furious. Does it look like they’re walking toward the parking area?”
“Yes, definitely. You can even see the hood of a car. Why?”
“The four of us were the only ones in the parking area when we were waiting for the Gherrings to come off the trail. It had to be one of the girls.”
“Your friends you brought along from the hiking club? One of them took the picture?” asked Grace. “Oh, shoot!”
“I know.”
* * *
Spencer staredat the picture on the front page of NYC Word. It was clearly the Gherrings, and Mrs. Gherring looked as sick as his sister had described her. The story was worse than he’d imagined—supposed reports of eyewitnesses who’d seen her pass out, a quote from a doctor who proposed likely diagnoses. He berated himself for agreeing to take Becca and Candace on the hike. Now, he was responsible for this fiasco. He could lose his job. But more importantly, he could lose Emily. He was hoping to someday be more than friends, but now he might even lose her friendship.
He had to find out who’d taken the picture. It must have been Candace. She’d seemed all too interested in Mrs. Gherring’s health, and she’d told him about the other picture and story in the NYC Word. Sigh. He’d call Becca first.
“Hi Spencer. What’s up? Are you going on the overnight hike this weekend?”
“No, I can’t. But that’s not why I called.”
“Why did you call?”
“There was a picture in a tabloid today. A picture of the Gherring’s coming off the hiking trail. Does that sound familiar?”
“No. What are you saying?”
“I’m saying either you or Candace took that picture and gave it to the tabloid.”
“I didn’t do it!” Her voice was indignant. “I would never do something like that. I don’t think Candace would either. How do you know someone else didn’t take the picture?”
“There was no one else in the parking lot, and the picture was taken from right behind where I was standing. I’m pretty sure it was Candace, but I thought I’d call you first. This is really bad. It was an awful thing to do to them, and I could lose my job over it.”
“Oh... I just can’t believe Candace would do something like that. I thought I knew her pretty well. I’m really sorry, Spencer. I hope it won’t affect things between us. If I find out she really did it, I won’t be her friend any more.”
He cringed. Did she really think there was something between them? “It’s okay, Becca. The damage has been done now.”
“S-sorry. D-do you want me to talk to her?” Great—now she was crying. He was going to swear off women altogether.
“No. I’m calling her right now.”
“You have her phone number? I didn’t know you were friends.”
“She called me yesterday, so I have it. We’re not friends, especially not now. Becca, I need to go.”
“Okay. Bye Spencer. Will I see you this weekend?”
“I really don’t know, Becca.” He disconnected the call. Was this his fault, too? Had he done something to make her believe they had a real relationship beyond friendship?
He called Candace’s number. No answer. He tried again, and left a message.
“Candace, this is Spencer. We need to talk. Please call me.” Then he sent her a text asking her to call him ASAP.
He checked the time. He’d used up his entire lunch break. Not that he was hungry anyway—his stomach was lurching. He knew what he had to do. He had to be the bearer of bad news to Steven Gherring. He folded the newspaper to hide the picture and walked back to the office building. To the elevator. To Gherring’s office. Blood was pounding in his head, and his vision was blurry. He felt very much as though he were walking the plank. He raised his fist and knocked on the imposing carved wooden door.