She wondered, were she to call Joseph, and tell him she needed him, what would his response be? She somehow sensed he'd have the ready store of human compassion her fiance seemed to lack.
She rolled to her side and curled up in a ball, blanking out the inviting idea of turning to Jo-Jo Duggan.
The next day Merry's chart showed she'd had another difficult night, and during her hydrotherapy session she had another even worse attack. When the child was returned to her room, Winn sought out Dr. Eldrid Childs, Merry's attending physician. She found him on the fourth floor, making rounds.
'It's about Meredith Emery, doctor,' she explained.
'You're her therapist, aren't you?' The intelligent eves met hers directly.
Winn nodded, then asked softly, 'She's going to die, isn't she?'
He studied her silently, tapped the palm of one hand with the fingers of his other, then took her arm and walked her idly along the hall. 'Yes, it looks that way. This morning it was more than a lung that failed. It was her kidneys.' So often with explosion victims it was not the burns that got them but the resultant damage to vital organs that didn't always show up immediately.
Winn's eyes slid shut, and she struggled to keep from crying.
'You're involved in this one, huh?'
She nodded, keeping her eyes tightly closed. They were no longer walking.
'Sometimes we're wrong, Gardner. Sometimes they fool us.'
She opened her eyes. He seemed to be swimming in a white lake of milk. 'Yeah…' she grunted thickly. 'Yeah, sure.'
When her shift ended at 3:00 P.M., she faced her empty town house with the heaviest heart she'd ever borne. The child's eyes seemed to be staring at her from the bouquet of milkweed pods given her in a different time by another patient, but one who'd recovered.
She called Sandy 's house, knowing perfectly well her friend was still at work, but thinking just by chance, if she'd stayed home today, the two of them could have a game of racket ball.
God, she needed to pound something, beat something, lash out and get even!
The house haunted. Outside it was spring, the season of renewed life, with robins nesting, angleworms squiggling and ants building doughnuts of sand. May was here. Trees were bursting with bloom.
Winn needed to be out there where the air was ripe with the promise of summer. She got in the car and drove. Unconsciously. Not caring where she went or whether she held up impatient drivers behind her. She was in an insulated bubble where hurt was temporarily held in abeyance.
She left Brooklyn Park behind and headed into the farm country north of the suburb, where farmers were planting their vast potato fields, and children were riding their bicycles in the driveways in the balmy late afternoon. She turned west off Douglas Drive and headed toward the old-fashioned water tower that lifted into the skyline ahead. Several minutes later she entered the quaint town of Osseo -population 2,906-by one of its lesser-used streets. Winn let her nose lead her, up one avenue and down another, searching for some sign she'd recognize, though she didn't know where it was or even if the business had a sign.
She found it on Second Avenue, two blocks off the main street of town, beside a gravel alley with grass beginning to sprout up its middle. It was a square brick building with old-fashioned double wood doors beside a windowless service door, and the sign said Duggan's Body Shop.
She stepped inside and found herself in a reception area of sorts, if it could be elevated to such a title. There was a desk made of oak, far older than his Haynes, and a nondescript pair of wooden chairs, a file cabinet, telephone and refrigerator, also very ancient, with rounded instead of squared corners. On the far side of the room an open doorway led to the shop beyond, and from it came the
She stepped to the open doorway. The body shop had a cavernous ceiling, grease-stained concrete floors and a single line of windows up eight feet off the floor, plus another matching row at eye level across the dated double doors.
A man was leaning over at the waist, running the sander along the flank of an orangy-colored fender on a navy blue car. Two others were bending over another hoodless car, peering at its engine. Above them dangled a set of enormous chains with hooks at the ends, attached to the arm of a monstrosity that looked as if it might drop on their heads at any moment. The man on the left lifted his head, spied Winn and came over immediately, wiping his hands on a stained blue rag.
'Hi.' His smile was Joseph's, but his eyes weren't nearly as pretty. 'What can I do for you?' The rear end of the man she thought was Joseph was still protruding from the dismantled car.
'Is Joseph here?'
'Sure.' He turned and bellowed over his shoulder. 'Hey, Jo-Jo, somebody to see ya.'
But Waylon was singing louder than Joseph's brother, and the sander was still whining. Brother Duggan crossed toward the bending figure in the washed-out blue jeans and called again, 'Hey, Jo-Jo, there's a lady here to see you.'
Joseph straightened halfway and looked over his shoulder. Winn's heart seemed to swell and thud while an awful constriction squeezed her chest. He straightened the remainder of the way very, very slowly, reaching blindly for a shop rag without taking his eyes from her. As he crossed the greasy floor, his smile grew broader with each step. Three feet before her, he stopped, wiping his hands. 'Well, hello.'
She had forgotten the magnetism of his incredible smile. 'Hello, Joseph.' Her heart was hammering so wildly it was difficult to speak in her customary tone of voice.
'What brings you to the thriving metropolis of Osseo?'
'Am I interrupting something important?'
'No. We're just jerking an engine. One's just like all the rest. It can wait.' He shrugged and tossed the shop rag aside. He was dressed in filthy blue jeans and a soiled blue chambray shirt, a pair of boots that might have been those she'd seen in his living room. His hands were black and the nails lined with grease. He looked every bit as inviting as he had in his tux and ruffles.
'I probably should have called first, but I didn't really plan to stop here. I was just out driving and…' She grew terribly self-conscious and gestured vaguely with one hand.
He glanced toward the windows in the double doors. 'You got car troubles or something?'
'No. I just wanted to talk to you. I thought maybe you could play a game of racket ball… or go out for a cup of coffee or… or something,' she finished lamely.
He reached for her elbow, glanced at his dirty hand and thought better of it. With a jerk of his head he ordered her to follow. 'Hey, John, tell Tommy to turn that sander off. There's somebody I want you to meet.'
When she hesitated, Joseph turned, held out a hand as if to take her elbow, but didn't. His brothers came forward, and she saw again the sharp resemblance to Joseph in Tommy's smile. It was there in John's, too, that same contagiousness. 'This is the lady I told you about, the one I walked down the aisle with, Winn Gardner.' Jo-Jo smiled at her while going on, 'And these are my kid brothers, Tommy and John.'
She extended her hand, realized too late it was the wrong thing to do, but kept it where it was while Tommy glanced at it, said, 'Hi, Winn' and finally with a crooked smile grasped hers in his greasy hold before John did likewise.
'Hey, Jo-Jo, she's all right,' Tommy approved.
'Damn right she's all right. But wipe the leer off your face, brother. She's spoken for, as I also told you.' Without pause he informed them, 'I'm gonna knock off for the day, but you two get that cherry picker on this engine and get 'er hoisted up, then check to find out if those kingpins and bushing are in. If they've got 'em, leave a note on the kitchen table so I can pick 'em up in the morning. I might be late.' Then he turned to Winn and said, 'Let's go.'
