FRANK didn’t want to leave Anna alone, now that Kyle was welching out on staying with her for the evening, but she insisted that he needed some time to himself. His retired lawyers’ group was having a banquet, and all his old buddies would be there—buddies he hadn’t seen in ages, thanks to her. “I’ll be fine, home alone. And it’s just one evening, Dad.” An evening she desperately wanted—and didn’t want. “Go, have a good time. Don’t even think about me.”
“You’re sure you don’t want to go with me?” he asked, tying his tie in the hall mirror.
“I’m sure,” she said, although she wasn’t. Staying home alone was a brand-new venture, and she was nervous. “Besides, I wouldn’t mind a little time to myself. I haven’t been alone since the accident and I think it will do me some good.” Smiling affectionately, she added, “And you getting away from me for the evening will certainly do you some good. You haven’t gone anywhere for weeks.”
“I don’t have any plans, so I can stay,” Lanli offered, settling down into Frank’s recliner. Seeing her there, Frank quickly agreed and scurried out the door, brushing Anna’s forehead with a quick goodbye kiss on his way.
“So, want to order a pizza?” Lanli asked.
“I want to spend the evening alone,” Anna answered, her voice surprisingly confident.
“Uh-uh,” Lanli returned, shaking her head. “Your dad would kill me if I left.”
“I just want an evening to myself, OK? You’ve been telling me I need to get independent, and I want to start tonight, right now, with an evening here in my house, nobody else around.”
“Should I call Sunny, or someone else, to come stay with you?” Lanli asked.
“Sunny’s put up with enough of me lately,” Anna replied. “Too much.” Sunny still blamed herself for the accident. If I hadn’t asked you to stay a little later… She’d practically martyred herself to the cause of Anna’s care, and it was taking a toll just about everywhere—their friendship, Sunny’s job. “She deserves some time off for good behavior.”
“I don’t feel right about this, Anna. This will be the first time you’ve stayed alone since the accident. What happens if you need help?”
“My trusty cell phone.” She held it up. “You’re on speed dial, and I’ll tie it around my neck, if that makes you feel any better.”
“You know, you can make fun of me all you want, but…” Lanli began pacing the perimeter of the room. “Your dad’s going to kill me if I do this, even if nothing goes wrong.”
“But nothing’s going to go wrong tonight. Cross my heart.” Lifting her hand to cross her heart, Anna smiled, shook her head and, instead of crossing, swiped her hand in the air. “I’ll read or watch TV. That’s all. I mean it’s not like I can do much of anything else.”
“I guess it would be a good test, especially since, well…since you don’t always try to help yourself.” Shaking her head in doubt, she added, “Maybe I should just go upstairs and hide. That way you’d have some private time, but I’d still be right here, just in case.”
“You know, Lan, until six months ago I was an adult, treated as an adult, in charge of an emergency room. Then all of a sudden I’m busted back to helpless child. I’m stubborn and I know that, I’m moody…”
“Not easy to get along with,” Lanli added. “Sometimes downright rude.”
“OK, OK.” Anna held her hands up in surrender. “You’re right, one hundred percent. And all I’m trying to say is that I’m thirty-one years old, a nurse…used to be a nurse…and I think I can take care of myself for a few lousy hours. At least let me try.”
Lanli stopped directly in front of Anna, studying her for nearly half a minute before she responded. “You’ll call me if you need anything.”
Anna nodded.
“The least little thing?”
She nodded again.
“And will you call me after an hour just to let me know how you’re doing? You don’t even have to talk. Just say ‘OK’ and hang up. Will you do that for me, Anna?”
“There’s nothing to be nervous about, but I’ll call if it makes you feel better.” She said the words with a brave front but she was feeling anything but brave. In ten seconds Lanli would shut that door behind her and Anna would be forced to face herself in ways she’d been avoiding. But it was time. Her trip to the park with Mitch this afternoon proved that.
“I suppose it’s OK, if you promise.” Reluctantly, Lanli opened the door and stepped outside. “You sure?” she asked, turning back to face Anna. “And you won’t forget to call me?”
Anna did cross her heart this time. “I’m sure, and I promise. And, Lan, I’m really sorry about the way I’ve been acting. Mitch was pretty blunt about some things today, especially about the way I’ve been treating my friends.”
“I know.” Lanli smiled sympathetically. “When he left he wasn’t sure if you’d let him come back to work with you or not.”
“I wasn’t sure myself. Still not.”
“So, if I leave you alone, that’s got to be another part of your promise. That you’ll let him help you.”
“Do you really think he can, or is this your way of getting rid of me because I’m one great big pain in the gluteus?”
“Both.” Lanli laughed. “So what’s it going to be?”
“I guess Mitch stays, if that’s my only choice.” Oddly, that wasn’t a tough decision.
“Your only choice. Now, lock the door after me and don’t let anyone in.”
“Yes, Mother,” Anna whined playfully. “And may I have a cookie before I go to bed?”
For the first hour of solitude Anna sat alone in the dark, drinking in the quietness. Who would have ever thought such a simple thing as solitude could be so precious? Time alone had become a constant craving, and now that she had it, it felt so good. She didn’t want to waste it with television, or music, or reading a good book. She simply wished to exist within it, let the aloneness surround her and cradle her like a mother cradled a child.
Life had been so hectic since she’d returned home. For six weeks in the hospital during several reconstructive procedures to rebuild shattered bones and torn muscles, then three months in an Indianapolis rehab hospital, she’d been the center of attention all the time—surrounded by people every minute of every day. Well-wishers, therapists, coworkers, other patients—the parade had never ended, and in some strange way, that had been a good thing. It had kept her mind off reality.
Then, when she’d come home to Bloomington, her dad had moved in. So had Sunny, part time. They’d spent the past month and a half hovering over her, showing every kind of concern and never once leaving her alone. She needed to be left alone sometimes, though, simply to think about her condition and weigh her future…whatever that was going to be.
The constraining eyes of those who cared for her was one of the reasons she’d been so cranky lately. She didn’t like being cranky. She didn’t like being watched all the time either. But most of all she didn’t like being alone, and even now, as much as she’d begged for solitude, it was frightening her. The what-ifs were creeping in. What if she fell out of her chair? Not that she’d ever done that before. What if the house caught fire? What if someone broke in?
“Sitting duck,” she muttered, finally turning on a light. Just what Mitch had called her, in so many words. Just what Kyle had seen at the park earlier, and had dodged in revulsion. Grabbing her cell phone, she speed-dialed Lanli’s number, and muttered a simple “OK” after her friend picked up on the first ring.
“You sure.”
No, she wasn’t sure. But that had nothing to do with Lanli. “Sure.”
During Anna’s second hour alone, she ventured into her bedroom, the downstairs conversion from her former den. At some point she’d probably have an elevator installed so she’d have access to the second floor and her real bedroom. Or maybe she’d buy a one-story house. For now, though, she contented herself with a whole lot of make-dos on the first floor. But, hey, that was her life now, wasn’t it? A whole lot of make-dos.
Suddenly, Anna was exhausted, more from her volley of emotions than the physical exertion Mitch had put her through earlier, and she transferred herself to bed, one of the few things she could do on her own, a requirement for getting sprung from the rehab center.
Some time later, the neighbor’s barking dog awakened her from a light sleep. Twisting to look at the clock, she discovered it was nearly eleven, and she was still alone, since her dad would have come to check on her before he went to bed if he’d come home yet.
Outside, the dog barked again, then a noise at the front door caught her attention. Was it scratching? Ralphie trying to get in? He always did when the neighbors left him out for the night. An impressively large Rottweiler, Ralphie had the nature of a pussy cat, along with the relentless persistence of a scavenger wherever there was food to be found. And more often than not he found it in her kitchen.
So maybe he was hungry, lonely, or both.
Climbing out of bed into her chair, Anna headed into the hall then crept toward the front door cautiously. A shiver of apprehension grazed her spine, and she chided herself for being silly. She’d lived here for five years. It was a quiet neighborhood—nothing sinister, nothing remotely out of the ordinary ever happened here. And just look at her, getting nervous over the least little thing, something she’d never done when she’d been able to walk.
But then she looked down at the floor and the shiver returned with a vengeance. A piece of white paper lay on the hardwood inside the door, defying her to pick it up. It had dropped through the mail slot, and the squeaking of the brass lid had probably triggered Ralphie’s barking.
Anna backed away from the paper, laughing nervously at her foolishness. “Stupid, really stupid,” she said aloud. “It’s a flyer, so just pick it up, Anna.” But that was easier said than done. Of course, she had her handy-dandy grabbers—a mechanical device used for retrieving things she couldn’t get herself. Good thing, since she’d never been so clumsy in her life as she was now, when she couldn’t simply bend down to pick something up.
The grabbers were at her bedside, and by the time she had them and was back at the front door, she was glad nobody saw her losing her mind over a silly little piece of paper.
When she snatched it up, however, it was blank. Nothing on either side. “Mitch,” she snarled. He knew she couldn’t just bend down and get it, that she’d have to figure out some convoluted way to do something as simple as picking up a dumb piece of paper. “Another test,” she muttered, crumbling the paper and throwing it back on the floor. Anger was bubbling inside—a lump in her gut, tense knots in her muscles. In a split second her head started throbbing.
Well, she wouldn’t let him do that to her. He had no right.
Spinning her chair, Anna raced to her bedroom to find his business card, then picked up the handset and punched the buttons with a malicious fury.
“Mitch Durant here,” came the groggy voice.
“Anna Wells here,” she said angrily. “You’re fired.” Blood was beginning to pound in her temples now, and her chest was tightening, trying to strangle the breath out of her. Frantically, Anna gulped air, nearly choking. “Not now,” she sputtered. This had happened so many times since the accident. She’d just shut herself away so nobody else would have to be involved in yet one more of her crises. She was a nurse, for heaven’s sake. She knew what it was, how to control it. But sometimes it came sneaking back, catching her before she knew it was coming.
“Not now what, Anna? What’s going on?”
Surprised by his voice, she forced her reply. “I said you’re fired. And I’m not going to talk to you about it now.”
“So I don’t get to ask what for?”
“I…Uh…” The tightening in her chest was worsening, squeezing her heart so hard she could hear its amplified beating in her ears. Thumping, roaring, deafening. “You…know…what…for,” she choked out. Her hands began shaking, and a cold sweat broke on her brow. The room was spinning, too, making her dizzy. Please, make it stop. She shut her eyes to keep out the spinning. “God, make it stop,” she whispered. “Stop…”
“What the hell are you talking about?”
“Don’t come back,” she spat into the phone. “I don’t want you here, ever.” Then she hung up to fight the demon.
Mitch tossed and turned in bed for several minutes, wondering about Anna’s call. Sure, she didn’t like him very much, but he’d never expected that she would. That was par for the course. But she was even angrier than most at this stage of rehab, and fighting all the wrong battles. Way too proud and stubborn to realize it, too. “Damn,” he muttered, punching the call-back button.
“So are you going to tell me about it?” he asked.
“No,” she gasped.
“What’s going on, Anna?” he asked calmly, even though he had a good hunch. “Are you breathing better yet? Lightheaded? Tingling in your extremities?”
“Fine.” Her voice was shallow, her rapid breaths still audible. “Leave me alone, please.” Then she hung up.
“Damn,” he muttered again, swinging his legs over the side of the bed. Twenty minutes there, twenty to calm her down, and twenty back. That extra hour of sleep sure would have been nice. But, hell, he was still a doctor. One, apparently, on the verge of a house call.
The drive from Mitch’s secluded log cabin to Anna’s house took forever, it seemed. With every mile he wondered why he was traipsing off into the night for someone who’d just fired him. And with every mile he thought about her stubbornness, and the vulnerability that she fought so intensely to camouflage.
She wouldn’t want him there, probably wouldn’t even open the door to let him in. And he was wondering why in the hell he was going, why an acquaintance of only a few hours commanded that kind of power over him. It’s because she’s a beautiful woman, he told himself. And she’s in a wheelchair and doesn’t have a clue about taking care of herself.
All things considered, he should just turn around and head back to bed. A good night’s sleep would have been better than her attitude. “Damn,” he muttered, gripping the steering wheel so hard his knuckles turned white. Something compelled him to go to her, and he sure hoped it was only his need to prove to her her need…for her own good.
Mitch’s first knock on Anna’s front door brought no response, and a twinge of alarm registered. “Anna, it’s Mitch,” he called, wondering if she might have passed out. Panic attacks could do that. And what he’d heard had sure sounded like a panic attack. He’d seen it in others coming to grips with their situation. It was about loss of control and self-doubt and fear. Thinking about Anna lying on the floor passed out in the midst of a panic attack, maybe even injured from the fall, he began pounding. “Anna? Answer me.”
A menacing growl from the bushes to the side of the porch was the only response, followed by a large head, teeth bared, poking out of the juniper. When the entire body emerged from its cover, it began pacing the length of the porch on the sidewalk below, snarling and daring him to make a move. Mitch did move, slowly and cautiously, until his back was flat against the door. “Nice doggy,” he soothed, realizing how silly it sounded. That nice doggy wanted to rip off one of his legs and chew it up. “Anna, let me in,” he yelled. “Or I’ll have to break the window.”
“Mitch?” came the hesitant voice from inside. “What are you doing here?”
“Trying not to get eaten by this hungry beast out here.” Her voice sounded better—stronger, more in control. Thank God for that much.
Anna pulled the door open fully, took one look at Ralphie skulking in the yard, and laughed. “That beast might lick you to death, but I doubt he’ll eat you. He prefers cookies to human flesh.”
Stepping backwards across the threshold, Mitch asked, “Has anyone told him that?”
Without saying a word, Anna patted her lap and all one hundred twenty pounds of Ralphie sailed past Mitch and flew into her arms. Since her chair wheels weren’t locked into place, he pushed her backwards across the entry hall, flat into a wall. Then, when he had her where he wanted her, he slathered her with wet, velvet, doggy kisses.
“Stop it.” She giggled, trying to push him away. But Ralphie wouldn’t budge.
“Should I do something?” Mitch asked.
“In the kitchen,” Anna gasped, trying to avert her face from the unwanted bath. “Cookies.”
The word “cookies” caught Ralphie’s attention, and he gladly abandoned Anna to follow Mitch into the kitchen. Mitch fished a few vanilla wafers out of the cookie jar and tossed them on the floor. Ralphie lunged and practically inhaled them, then turned his doleful doggie eyes back to Mitch, whining for more.
“OK, OK,” Mitch grumbled, emptying the entire contents of the jar on the floor. “That should hold you for a little while.”
While Ralphie busied himself chasing down the treats, Mitch stepped around him and returned to Anna. Her hair was dripping with slobber and her shirt was soaking wet. “Want a bath or something?” he asked, turning up his nose at the spectacle. “Maybe I should take you out in the yard and hose you down?”
Anna knew she looked—and probably smelt—bad. Ralphie’s hygiene wasn’t quite up to human standard, and on those occasions when he lavished her with his generous attention, he also shared his pungent odor. “I think I’ll go take a quick shower,” she said, heading for the hall. “Lock the door on your way out.”
“My way out?”
“You came because you don’t think I’m capable of taking care of myself, and now that you see I am, there’s no reason for you to stay, is there?”
“You were having a panic attack.”
“It’s over.”
“Just like that?”
“Just like that. I’ve had them before and they go away.”
“You were hyperventilating when you called me. I need to check your vitals.”
“My vitals are fine,” she snapped.
“Do you take anything for it? Some kind of antidepressant?”
She ignored him, instead focusing her attention on Ralphie slobbering his way back into the entrance hall.
“A sedative?”
Still nothing from her, not even a passing glance.
“Anything?”
Looking straight at him finally, she didn’t answer, didn’t blink, didn’t move.
“For heaven’s sake, don’t tell me you’re not being treated for it.”
Anna shrugged indifferently. “OK, I won’t. And it’s none of your business anyway. I work through it, so leave me alone.”
“Does your dad or Lanli know you have these attacks?” He already knew the answer. It was written in her defiant grip on the chair wheels.
“Like I said, it’s none of your business. And I thought you gave up being a doctor.”
“You made it my business when you called me in the middle of the damned night. And I gave up being a doctor, but I didn’t give up my common sense, and common sense says you need medical treatment, or at the very least some counseling, which I’m sure you’re not getting either.”
“Pills don’t fix everything, Doctor. Neither does counseling. And I called because of that.” She pointed to the crumpled wad of paper on the floor next to the door. “You stuck it my mail slot to aggravate me. You thought I couldn’t pick it up off the floor by myself, which I did.”
“Why would I do something stupid like that?”
“Lanli said you weren’t sure if I’d let you come back and I figured this was just your way of letting me know how helpless I am.”
“Hey, lady, I don’t play games. And the only thing I’ve had anything to do with this evening was my bed. And I was right there when you called and started your little…episode.”
“My little episode?” she exploded. “It was my first night alone, and I thought—”
“Well, you thought wrong. If I wanted you to pick up something from the floor, I’d throw it there then watch you. I wouldn’t sneak around in the night and drop it through your mail slot, for God’s sake.” He picked up the paper and looked at it. “It’s a misprint, Anna. There are college students out all over the place tonight, delivering flyers. I saw a bunch of them on my way here. And this one’s just a blank. You had a panic attack over a misprint.”
“So I was wrong. Sue me.” She turned away.
Mitch looked up at the ceiling and exhaled. His eyes narrowed into a frown and he raised his hand to his head, running his fingers through his short, curly, brown, uncombed crop. Shutting his eyes, he said, “Look, I wasn’t the one who came asking to work with you, remember? And I don’t particularly want the job, since I really don’t like the work anymore. I agreed to do it for Lanli only because I owe her.” He opened his eyes, spun her back to face him and glared down at her. “I don’t have the time or the patience for this. So, if you want help, you call me. OK? Otherwise, I’m done.”
He headed to the door, opened it, stepped outside. “Lock it behind me,” he said without turning back.
“Mitch, I’m…” She raced to the door after him. “You’re right, and I’m sorry. I’m turning into the kind of patient I always hated to work with—grumpy, impatient…”
“Demanding?” He turned back to face her. “Impolite? Downright pain in the ass?”
She smiled, and actually laughed. “So you’ve met me before?”
He stepped back up to the threshold and extended his hand. “Hi. I’m Mitch Durant, and I’ve come to help you if you’d like some help. Your decision this time, though. So what’s it gonna be, Anna?”