Menu for Romance

Her gaze flickered back to the TV—and after a little while, it seemed as if she’d forgotten anyone else was in the room. Meredith looked askance at the director, who shrugged.

“I agree. I’ll only call if it’s an emergency.” Beverly reached into the end table beside her chair and pulled out a marker and a pad of sticky notes. “Major uses these to write down things I need to remember.”

Meredith wrote her cell phone number in large, clear numerals and handed the pad back to Beverly. “Mrs. O’Hara, I will call you with an update on Major in the morning.”

“Promise?”

“I promise.”

All three turned at a knock on the door. A nurse came in with a young man in a white doctor’s coat.

“Hi, Mrs. O’Hara. I came to talk to you about what happened earlier.” The kid-doctor offered Meredith a nod and smile of acknowledgment before scooting past her to sit on the loveseat.

Meredith stood. “Maybe I should go—”

Whip fast, Beverly grabbed Meredith’s arm again.

“Why don’t you stay,” Dr. Sevellier said.

Meredith extracted her arm then held Beverly’s hand loosely in hers and sat down.

For the next half hour, the young psychiatrist managed to impress Meredith with the way he drew information out of Major’s mother until the woman was speaking coherently. Finally, Dr. Sevellier stood, had a whispered conversation with the nurse, and moved beside the recliner.

Meredith released Beverly’s hand and scooted back in her seat to allow him room.

“The nurse is going to bring your meds. And I’m having her add a sleeping pill so you can get some rest and recover from your ordeal.” Dr. Sevellier patted Beverly’s shoulder and moved toward the door.

Beverly reached for Meredith’s hand again. “They’re going to put me to sleep. Don’t let them put me to sleep. I want to watch the movie. Don’t let them take me away from the movie.”

Meredith moved back up to the edge of the sofa so her shoulder wasn’t in danger of being pulled out of its socket. “Mrs. O’Hara, would it help if I stay until you fall asleep? We can keep the movie on so you can see it from the bed.”

Beverly agreed and took all the pills the nurse brought. The director, doctor, and nurse left. Meredith helped Beverly change into her nightgown and took over the task of brushing the baby-fine white hair when Beverly complained that her arms were too heavy to continue.

“Will you sing it for me?” Beverly stretched out and pulled the covers up to her chin.

“Sing what?”

The older lady yawned. “Yellow ribbon song.” Her eyelids drooped.

By the time Meredith made it all the way through the tune, Beverly O’Hara was sound asleep. As quietly as she could, Meredith turned off the lamp on the bedside table and straightened up the room, putting Beverly’s clothes into the hamper, wiping the water and dripped toothpaste off the sink in the small bathroom, and turning off the TV and video player, returning the DVD to its case and the case to its original spot on the shelf.

“Cavalry...”

Meredith jumped at Beverly’s muzzy singsong voice. But Beverly didn’t move and didn’t say anything else. Meredith released her held breath and let herself out of the apartment, releasing the doorknob a smidgen at a time until the latch softly clicked into place.

The director met her in the lobby and got her contact information, then walked her to the front doors.

“Thank you for coming tonight, Ms. Guidry. I’m certain Beverly and her son appreciate it, as well.”

“I’m glad I could help.” Meredith shook hands with him then headed out to her car. She sat for a moment, fingers steepled over her nose and mouth. Lord, what did I just step into the middle of? And why had Major never told her about his mother? He had a lot of explaining to do.

* * *

Awareness dawned at about the same speed it took a watched pot to boil. Major became vaguely aware of odd little sounds that he’d never heard in his condo before. A rhythmic beep. A plastic rustle and slight whoosh of air every time he moved. Though there were times when he woke up sore the morning after a hard workout, breathing had never hurt as much as it did this morning. The back of his right hand was killing him, too.

He opened his eyes, and in the dimness, his surroundings took a minute to resolve. He wasn’t at home. He was in a hospital room. And then he remembered—

The car in front of him had slammed on its brakes for no apparent reason. He’d lost control of the Jeep on the wet pavement. Kirby had rolled over a few times. After that, he only remembered bits and snatches. The emergency room. Being told he needed surgery on his leg. And Meredith...

The beeping sound increased. When she’d appeared at his side in the emergency room, all he could think of was wanting to make sure she never left him again. He’d said ... he’d said...

His face burned. Though he did want to propose to Meredith eventually, hopefully she understood that he’d been under the influence of heavy-duty painkillers.

An insistent buzzing sound caught his ear, followed by rustling from the dark corner of the room.

“Hello?” A whispered voice. “No, Beverly, he’s still sleeping. I promise, I’ll call you as soon as he wakes up so you can talk to him.... Okay. Bye.”

Nausea churned Major’s empty stomach. “Meredith?”

“You’re awake?” Her figure materialized out of the darkness and came over to the bed.

“Was that—were you just talking to my mother?”

A neutral expression masked her face. “I was. I had to go out to Beausoleil Pointe Center last night because she had an episode when you didn’t show up to see her.”

He groaned.

“Why didn’t you ever tell me about her?”

“How am I supposed to explain her? ‘Oh, by the way, I have a crazy mother’?” Anger came to his defense against the tears forming in Meredith’s eyes. “I learned a long time ago that if I didn’t want people wondering when I was going to lose my mind, I couldn’t tell them about Ma.”

Meredith was silent for a while. “I’m trying to see this from your point of view, but I can only come up with two explanations of why you basically lied to me about your mother—either you don’t trust me, or you’re ashamed of her.”

He was ashamed all right—of himself. “Mere, you don’t understand....”

“Then help me to understand. I’ve known you, worked beside you, for eight years. Eight years. And unless I’m remembering incorrectly, a couple of weeks ago, you told me you love me. Yet the next day, when I tried to ask you about your family again, you shut me down, putting me off once again. Were you ever going to tell me?”

He sighed. This was exactly why he hadn’t told her. “Last night, over dinner. I was going to tell you then.”

“If you didn’t chicken out first.”

Her words cut like his sharpest knife. She knew him too well. But he’d been right about her, as well. “All I can say is, I’m sorry. This is exactly why I’ve been trying to keep away from you, to stop myself from falling in love with you. Because I knew once you found out about her, you wouldn’t want to have anything to do with either of us. I mean, you’re the one who told me you didn’t want to take the time to deal with training a puppy. How would you possibly want to take the time to deal with my schizophrenic mother?”

Meredith stood silent for a long time. The only indication she hadn’t turned to a statue was her deep, ragged breathing.

He fought the guilt that tried to drown him over the words that had just come out of his mouth. He’d only lashed out at her because he was angry with himself. But he was doing this for her protection. In the long run, she’d thank him for saving her from his fate.

“I’m sorry you feel that way. I think your mother is a lovely woman who has done the best she can do while fighting a terrible affliction, and she’s someone I would be proud to know better.” Meredith took a few more gulping breaths.

He couldn’t look at her anymore, couldn’t bear to see the hurt in her eyes—those beautiful eyes he loved so much. Never apologize.... It’s a sign of weakness. And he had to be strong if he was going to let her walk away.