Run. As soon as her final release forms had been signed, Lorna got into her car and drove out of the hospital parking lot like a thief leaving a crime scene. She had to get away. She needed time to think, to clear her head and come to grips with the horrific events she had just lived through.
As she drove down the interstate, she paid little attention to the weather, although she could see the sun was shining. She paid little attention to the traffic, although she knew without focusing, it moved slowly.
Her fingers tightened around the steering wheel as her mind replayed the last time she saw her mother. A horn honked. She had unknowingly put her foot on the brakes, holding up the already slow traffic.
Easing her foot back onto the gas pedal, the car moved forward slowly, just like a scene vividly playing in her mind. She could not forget the last conversation she had with her mother before leaving the hospital. Jean, knowing Lorna was being released from the hospital, wanted Lorna to come stay with her at the hotel where she was staying.
“Lorna…we can talk about…about what has happened.” Nervously, Jean paced the floor while Lorna dressed. She hated confronting unpleasant things. “I have so very much to explain…I don’t want you to think that I never loved you,” she said pleadingly, continuing to pace the floor. Not once did she look at Lorna. She dared not, because she did not want to see the hatred in her daughter’s eyes. Paying little attention to her mother, Lorna continued packing; she had heard it all before.
Glancing around the room, ensuring she was not leaving anything, she zipped her suitcase closed. Jean was still pacing. “We’ll order room service and maybe have a manicure…” she said hopefully, “…and put all this nasty business behind us.”
Nasty business. That is all Lorna heard in all Jean’s rambling. She called the hell she lived through nasty business. For a brief moment, she was furious. Closing her eyes to the pain inside, she wanted to die. Her mother. Her own mother had helped in causing so much pain.
Her heart twisted inside her like a mop being wrung of everything it soaked up, everything it had inside. Jean was still pacing the room, detailing their plans for when they got to the hotel.
“Mom…” Jean stopped pacing long enough to listen; it had been a long time since she had heard Lorna call her ‘Mom.’ “Mom…you allowed your husband to use me.” The pain in her voice sliced through the air like a sword. “You allowed your husband to…use me.” She ended quietly.
Lorna did not yell. If she had, Jean would have probably felt better. She shivered as Lorna’s quiet voice shattered her carefully put together world like broken glass.
“Mom, you stood by while I was being raped…raped by a man that I believed was my father.” Jean didn’t say a word; she was staring at the floor as if she’d never seen one before. “Mom? What can you possibly say to me that would explain how you allowed your daughter, the one that you claim to love…to be hurt in such a way? What could you possibly say to me?” Lorna walked slowly over to her mother, gently with her fingers, she lifted her head and stared into her eyes. Jean looked away.
Lorna would have been crushed, but she realized that her mother, no matter what she said, did not love her. Love went beyond feeding and clothing a child. To love a child also meant teaching, guiding and protecting that child. Her mother, Lorna thought, as she stared at the side of Jean’s cheek, had no idea what love was all about.
Finally meeting Lorna’s gaze, Jean began ringing her hands as if she was not sure what to do with them. Lorna felt sorry for her mother; she was not sure why, but she did. Maybe it had something to do with the conversations she had been having or rather hearing from Nurse North.
The head nurse spent a lot of time with her and she did not know why. At first, she was suspicious and thought Nurse North wanted something. Everybody did, didn’t they, but Nurse North did not.
As she stood staring at her mother, she remembered that whenever Nurse North came into her room, she would say good morning as if she was singing, then opened the curtains in her room, and no matter what the weather was like outside, comment that it was a beautiful day to be alive.
Several times throughout the day, Nurse North came to her room as if for no other reason than to fluff her pillow. She did not try to make trivial conversation; she just talked though Lorna never said a word. She remembered Nurse North telling her about her past. Her hurts. Her pains. And how she had survived.
Lorna did not put much faith in religion. Not anymore. Not after what she had been through, then there was her family, such as it was. But after listening to Nurse North talk about her past, she called it a testimony, whatever that meant.
When Lorna finally spoke, she had promised Nurse North that she would try hard not to give up on life, though she was tired of it.
Life, Lorna thought, as she looked upon her mother, who was looking at anything except her again, still wringing her hands as if she was trying to take the skin off. Is there a better way? She sadly wondered. Lorna took her suitcase off the bed and started for the door.
“Lorna! Wait!” Jean was afraid of being alone. She needed Lorna. “Lorna…I know we can work things out…I know I’ve let you down…”
“Let me down?” incredulously shaking her head at the statement. Lorna looked at her mother in disbelief. “Let me down…” momentarily closing her eyes, tired of feeling ashamed. Weary of being afraid. “Mom, you need help…you need help.” Saying quietly, shaking her head slowly, and taking a deep breath, Lorna left Jean standing in the middle of her hospital room wringing her hands.
The billboard read ‘last chance for gas for the next ten miles.’ Looking down at her gas gauge, the needle was pointing toward ‘E’; she was riding on fumes and luck. Pulling off the busy intersection, Lorna eased her car onto the gravel road toward the first gas tank.
Her car did a small tremor, coughed as if exhausted, then stopped. It was completely empty. Getting out, stretching her tight limbs, she unlocked her gas tank. Putting the gas pump inside the car, she glanced around in search of a bathroom.
That is when her eyes locked on the wire newspaper stand, filled to capacity with papers screaming to be bought. From where she was standing, she clearly read the bold headlines in extra large letters: ‘The World’s Most Desirable Woman Shot Her Father to Death.’
For seconds she was paralyzed. There was a snapshot of both her and Harry opposite one another in full color. Snatching the pump out of the car with trembling fingers, she frantically looked around hoping no one recognized her.
Getting into her car, locking the doors, Lorna mentally thanked God for debit cards; she did not want to go into the station to pay for the gas. Taking one more fearful look at the headlines, starting the engine, she pulled out of the gas station hurriedly, the tires of her car spitting gravel and dirt from her exit.
Driving blindly down the freeway, her frail fingers gripped the steering wheel so tightly that the veins in her hand were visible. Lorna saw in her mind’s eyes the pictures of both her and Harry glaring in full brilliant color. Run, she mentally screamed to herself. Run.
Pushing on the gas pedal harder, she paid no attention to her speedometer needle as it steadily climbed toward one hundred miles an hour. The legal speed for the freeway she was on was sixty-five miles per hour.
Run. Get away. Her foot pressed further onto the gas pedal; it had almost touched the floor of the car when a persistent ringing sound penetrated her anguished hazed mind.
Realizing for the first time that she was speeding, quickly glancing into her rear-view mirror, she allowed her foot to ease up off the gas pedal, bringing the car back down to the legal speed limit.
The persistent ringing sounded like loud chimes in the quiet car. It was her cellular phone. Reaching for the phone, her hand hesitated.
Lorna thought about not picking it up; it might be Nick. She did not want to deal with Nick. Not now. She could not. The phone continued to ring. Taking a deep breath, she decided to answer the call. It was Sable.
“Lorna? Are you all right?” It was a dumb question, she knew. But her concern for Lorna coupled with her spontaneous marriage to Stephen, and the knowledge that the murdering swine, whose tainted blood also ran through her veins, her grandfather, had her mind running in circles, looking for a quiet place to rest.
Shuffling through mounds of papers on her desk, “Tell me where you are and I’ll come over. We can talk if you want…or not.” Finally finding the document she was looking for, Sable sat back into her chair, allowing her head to fall onto the headrest.
Mentally, she exhaled. Lorna was so quiet on the other end; Sable could hear cars as they drove by her, some honking their horns. Listening, she did not know if that was a good sign or not. She waited.
Driving so slowly down the freeway, cars were honking their horns for her to get out of their way, but she could not get herself to drive any faster. She was tired. Knowing that Sable was on the other end, trying to be patient with her, almost made her smile.
Sable had a nervous energy about her that kept her moving. Lorna loved Sable. Sable had been the sister she always wanted but never had. “Sable,” she finally said. “I’m okay…I just need to be alone for a while.” Then she was quiet again.
Saying nothing for a moment, Sable understood. “Lorna, where are you?” Leaning forward in her chair, she wished she knew how to take Lorna’s pain away.
Briefly looking around her, “I’m on Interstate 85 heading…I don’t know where.” Saying quietly, really not caring where she was going. She just wanted to be alone.
Remembering her father’s cabin in the mountains, Sable had an idea where Lorna could go. “Lorna…Daddy has a cabin in the mountains off I-85 heading west. Remember I told you about it once?” She asked hopefully.
“Yes, I remember.” Lorna said tiredly.
“Go there, Lorna. Take as much time as you need. I will tell Daddy that you are there. I’m sure it will be all right.” She wanted to cry. “If you need me, you know where I am…always.”
Forcing herself not to cry, it was the last thing Lorna needed. Sable reined in her emotions. She knew Lorna needed somewhere to go where she would not be hounded by the media or by Nick. “Lorna, are you still there?” Concern for Lorna echoed in her voice.
“Yes…yes, I’m still here.”
“The key is in the hanging plant on the left as you face the door. If you can’t find it, call me back, but I am sure it will be there.”
The cabin sounded like a good idea. Thanking Sable and ensuring her that she would be fine, Lorna disconnected the call and turned off her cell phone. She was not too far from the cabin. She could hardly wait to get there.
Sable was staring at her phone when her father walked into her office. “What’s wrong, honey?” He knew his little girl and could tell when something was bothering her. George saw the evidence of tears threatening to fall from her eyes.
“I just hung up with Lorna.” Blinking back tears, “…she’ll be using the cabin.” George shook his head in agreement that it was a good idea.
Running her hands through her hair in frustration, “Daddy? How could any parent do that to their child? How could they?” Sable’s voice cracked with pain as tears silently made their way down her cheeks.
George did not know what to say to his daughter as he watched her silently crying for her friend. He knew that it would be a long time before Lorna healed from the pain inflicted upon her by her parents.
Walking around her desk, he gently lifted Sable from her chair and held her in his arms. It was not often that he saw his little girl cry. She had been crying a lot lately, he thought sadly, and it still shook him to the core of his heart.
Holding her tightly as racking sobs of tears rushed down her cheeks, he gently started to rock her as he once did when she was a child. Thank God she has Stephen, who was standing silently at the door and had heard some of the conversation.
As Stephen slowly entered the office, George gently turned Sable around placing her in Stephen’s outstretched arms. Walking toward the still open door, with one brief look behind him, George silently closed the doors to Sable’s office, knowing that his daughter was in safe loving arms.