“You were named after my great-uncle,” she says. “He was agood, hard-working man, too.”
Tom’s mother? I feel a sudden kinship, bound by shared love andgrief. Not wishing to infringe upon a family moment, I stand and turn toward thedoor. I intend to wait in the hall, but a nurse takes it upon herself to divestme of Tom’s English toffee.
“You needn’t be shy, dear,” she says, removing the box from myhands. “I’ll deliver it to Mr. Craddock.”
What? No! Unhand that toffee!
But I’m too slow to grab the parcel back. With the best ofintentions, I assume, the nurse moves the privacy screen a few inches to theright. “Sorry to interrupt, sir, but you have a present from an admirer.”
Mrs. Craddock leaves her chair and asks for the box. On pinsand needles, I hear her remove the ribbon, lift the lid. “Why, it’s candy. Thestore-boughten kind.”
Grunting a little from exertion, Tom shifts on his bed. “Who’sit from?”
Joy surges through me, and I bite my lip. His voice is quiet,weak even, but any words from Tom are more than acceptable. I didn’t anticipatehow happy I would be upon hearing them.
Now there’s a bending-paper sound, like the card being opened.“Hester Grayson,” Mrs. Craddock murmurs.
Is that disappointment in her tone? And the scent on her skin?Surely, it can’t be jealousy.
“Is this person a friend of mine?”
“Just a girl from town,” Mrs. Craddock says. “Follows youaround like a puppy. It isn’t healthy, in my opinion, having someone like thatat your heels. Handicapped, you know. Still, her family is rich.”
I follow him around like a puppy? At his heels?
“Miss Grayson’s right outside the screen,” the nurse says, everhelpful. “Waiting for a visit.”
Tom moves on the bed again, groaning in pain. “Bring her over.So I can say thank you.”
Beyond embarrassed now, tears forming, I step back and bumpinto the wall. Kelly’s private room is just around the corner, and I hurry intothe hall and count the doors until I reach number five. Thankfully, the room isempty, but it smells of peppermint, like Kelly often does. My thoughts returnto Mrs. Craddock as I climb onto the squeaky cot.
After all these years, I never knew she felt that way. Sheseemed uncomfortable around me at times, apologizing for the state of herclothing or the messiness of her home—as if I could even see those things.Despite our differences, I thought we were friendly.
Don’t blubber, Hester. It won’t help.
The urge to reach out to Tom and test our clairvoyant bond isoverwhelming, but I decide to wait until he’s stronger. Fatigued myself, I pullthe blanket to my chin and doze. Then I hear Kelly’s voice.
“Wake up, minx,” the doctor says. “I looked everywhere for youand finally thought of this place. I’m tired of hide-and-seek.”
I prop myself up on one elbow and sign, Tom’s mother.
“Scared you off, did she?”
I nod, caught out with the truth.
He squats down by the bed. “Can you blame the woman? It’sobvious she’s played second fiddle in her son’s affections for years.”
Hurts.
“Undoubtedly, but she’s gone now, home to cook dinner for herbrood. Let’s reacquaint you with Tom.” Kelly pulls me up by the hand. “Youmight want to fix that collar first and pin back the hair drooping over yourear.”
With the doctor’s help, I make myself more presentable.
Look, I sign, and point at the puncture marks on myface. Ugly.
Kelly merely laughs. “The scabs from the splinter wounds, doyou mean?
Yes. Must be terrible.
“Oh, come now. Even with a few of those, you’ll do.”
We leave the little sleeping chamber and walk toward therecovery ward. After a few steps, I panic once more and turn back.
Kelly hauls me around. “Wrong way,” he mutters. “I would havethought you’d be plowing people over to reach Craddock’s bedside.”
Mother hates me. What if Tom hates me, too?
“Where is your spine, Hester? You’ll never know what he’sfeeling if you remain in this hallway.”
To blazes with Kelly. I have spine to spare. Answering thechallenge in his words, I finish the journey to the sick room without stopping.The doctor stands with me just outside the door.
“He’s worth fighting for, I presume?”
Yes.
“Then take a deep breath and square your shoulders.”
I follow the doctor’s instructions and actually feel better.“Good,” Kelly whispers. “Let’s go.”
Our approach to Tom’s bed is unimpeded now that the screen hasbeen removed.
“Well, Craddock,” Kelly says. “How are you this afternoon?”
“How do you think?” Tom replies, a sullen note in his voice.
“Those stitches burning? Stinging yet?”
“Yes. Both.”
Kelly pulls over a couple of chairs. “Sorry, old boy. You’re atthe most painful stage in the mending process.”
“When can I get out of here?”
“Not for a while, I’m afraid.”
A nurse gives Tom another dose of morphine, at Kelly’ssuggestion, and then the doctor turns to me, placing a hand on my arm. “I’vebrought you someone special. Can you guess who she is?”
I feel Tom study me. His gaze is like the sun on my skin, and Iknow my cheeks, forehead, and neck are flushing a vivid rainbow of pinks, reds,and purples.
Please let his memory return.
My love sighs. “Can’t you just say her name? I didn’t know theother one either, the man from this morning.”
“James Scarlett?”
“That’s him. Offered to pay the hospital bill, my being hurt inhis club and all.” Another belabored sigh. “You must like putting me on thespot, Doc.”
“One of the many perks of being your physician. Now back to myquestion, Craddock. Who’s our lovely lady?”
I could kill the doctor for making this introduction sodifficult. A rather convenient homicide since Sir Death is only half a roomaway and seems bored.
Tom grumbles about needing a drink, and the nurse brings apitcher. Liquid spills into the glass, making a happy sloshing sound. He spendsa full minute drinking the water, stalling for time. Then he speaks to me asthough I am a stranger.
“I’m sorry, but who are you?”
Over the years, I’ve learned to school my features, showing theworld an impassive face. I have not learned to school my heart. It is rent intoa thousand, throbbing pieces.
“She’s your good friend,” Kelly says. “Hester
