By the time she was parked and galloping through the hospitals entrance doors, though, that problem was forgotten and another one nipping on her mind. If anyone questioned her claim about being Gregs sister, Rachel figured no one was going to believe her lie. Obviously lots of siblings looked dissimilar, but man, she and Greg were drastic opposites in physical appearance.
He was a hefty six foot three; she was five foot fourin heels. He had to tilt the scales past two hundred and fifty pounds, where she only weighed one hundred and ten if she wore a winter coat and clunky shoes. She was small-boned; he was a natural defensive end. Their personal styles were even more night and day. Greg often claimed that she looked like a younger Meg Ryan. That wasnt truehe was just being a sweetiebut she did have the blondish hair and blue eyes, and people had been annoyingly labeling her as girl-next-door cute since she was six. Greg.. well. There was nothing wrong with his looksnothingbut he wasnt exactly the kind of guy who cared about his appearance. His jet-black hair was whacked off in a dorky style; his glasses were usually broken, and his clothes looked like something twenty years out of dateand lacked all claim to taste even then.
Still, as she started asking questions at the hospitals front desk, no one seemed inclined to challenge her claim to be a relative. Possibly it helped that she looked so pitiful, with her limp hair straggling to her shoulders and her wilted suit and the run in her stocking. Whod go out in public looking so wasted if they didnt have to? Cripes, she hadnt even stopped to put on lipstick. But it wasnt as if Greg would ever care or notice what she looked like. The only thing that mattered was finding him.
Questions eventually led her up one set of elevators, then down a mile-long hall, where she searched for room 315. Her spirits lifted just knowing hed been settled in a regular room. At least he wasnt in surgery or worse. Maybe he was just a little battered up, she tried to reassure herself.
Only, her heart stopped when she poked her head through the doorway of room 315. The room looked like a clone of all the othersa mutated melon color, linoleum too ugly to wear out, inescapable antiseptic smells. It wasnt that bad. It was just the usual two-bed hospital room...and only the far bed by the window was occupied.
But the occupant in that bed was a long, long way from just a little battered up.
She would never have recognized Greg at all, if it werent for a glimpse of jet-black hair and the lumberjack shape under the sheets. She tiptoed closer with her heart in her throat. Bandages completely covered his face, except for a narrow strip around his eyes. He was connected to tubes all over the place. There was some kind of contraption affecting his jaw and neck. His left arm was raised on a pillow and immobilized in a splint.
Hey.
Rachel almost jumped when she heard his voice. He was lying so still that she feared he was unconscious. But the kindest blue eyes in the universe had suddenly opened to half slits and looked drug-dazed. His normally strong tenor was barely a cracked, strained whisper.
Hey, back. She plastered on her cheeriest smile and touched his right hand. She was afraid to touch anything else. She didnt want him to know how frightening he looked. You can go right back to sleep, Stoner. Im only going to stay a minute. I just had to know for sure how you were. And Im not positive you should even be trying to talk
He motioned to the constraining bandages affecting his jaw. I can talkbecause nothing hurts. They just dosed me up with morphine. But I cant seem to speak any louder or clearer than this mumbling...and I guess Ill be eating dinner out of a straw for a while. Dont look so scared, Rach. Everythings mendable. Ill be fine.
Rachel wanted that promise in blood from a doctor. This is a heck of a way to get time off work, you lazy slug.
You know me. Any excuse to loll around.
Yeah, she knew him. He lumbered around with his glasses askew and a chronic distracted air, looking like the stereotype of a bumbling, absentminded professor. But it was so easy to misjudge Greg based on his appearance. The neighbors all camped out on his doorstep whenever there was a community problem, because he was just one of those people who quietly stepped up and took charge.
Shed learned thatfirsthandthe day she moved in. Unfortunately there was no denying that shed been a mortifying disaster that afternoon. The thing was, shed married Mark with the foolish, naive idea that marriage was forever, and discovering his relationship with the bimbo had emotionally leveled her. Shed taken off with a wild hodgepodge of belongings. A lamp, but no table to put it on. A mattress, but no bed. Her grandmas sacred red-velvet antique love seat, but no silverware. A few dishes, but nothing she could boil water in. Greg had asked if he could help her carry things. Shed snarled out a no.
Hed chosen to ignore her and simply started toting things in, making trip after trip for no thanks. Eventually it became obviouseven to herthat a puppy could have packed better than she had. For all the stuff shed mounded together, she lacked even the basics to get through a single day. She didnt have a broom, didnt have a spoon. And when she realized that shed been so stupid as to even forget shoesplenty of clothes, but no shoes beyond the pair on her feetshed plunked down on the porch steps and cried. Greg had plunked next to her and doled out tissue, as if coping with a rude, fruitcake neighbor having an out-of-control crying jag was nothing unusual in his day.
Looking at his white-bandaged face now made her feel fierce and angry. Hed been there for her so many times. She wanted to shoot whoever had done this to him, strangle them with her bare hands, do something. Not just because she owed him, but because she loved the big lug. Are they giving you enough pain juice in those tubes? she asked lightly.
Too much. My heads in la la land. You dont have to stand there, Rach, sit...
Ill sit. For a minute. But I cant believe you need company for long. And I should probably confess that Im not supposed to be here. I lied and told them I was your sister, so dont blow my cover, okay?
Okay, sis.
She wanted to chuckle. Even with the strange, strained sound of his voice, she could hear the hint of his dry humor. Through blizzards and power outages and crises, shed never heard Greg lose his sense of humor. I want to ask you how the accident happened, but Im not still convinced that you should be talking. I dont understand exactly what kind of bandage contraption theyve got around your jaw, but if it hurts you to talk
It doesnt hurt. Nothing hurts. Like I said, Im in poppy heaven. I just cant open my mouth very far. I think they wired my jaw, but I was really out of it a few hours ago and Im honestly not sure exactly what anyone was doing to me in the E.R.
She scooched a chair closer. So you think your jaws broken. Your arm, too?
Yeah, for sure on the arm. They just havent set it yet. It was too swollen. The bone guys supposed to come back and take a look still tonight.... Rachel?
What? His sudden hesitation, the way he said her name, made her quickly surge forward with alarm. What can I do? Do you want water? The nurse?
No. Id just feel better to get this saidyou may not recognize me when this is over. There was a plastic surgeon in here earlier, too. He was pretty frank about the injuries to my face. He made out like theyll be rebuilding from scratch. Could be my days of being a handsome hunk are over.
Rachel felt her heart clamp in a painful fist. She wanted to say the right thing, whatever would help him most, but she just didnt know what that was. Although the gauzy bandages completely concealed his expression, she could see those steady blue eyes searching hers. And he was joking about the handsome hunk. Once Greg had wryly described himself as a fade-in-the-woodwork kind of guy. He was a comptroller, so it wasnt like he needed to be a GQ fashion plate. And since he chose the geeky haircut and dated clothes and never seemed concerned about the extra thirty pounds, Rachel had just assumed that looks didnt matter to him. Once shed come to love him as a friend, she never thought about his physical appearance one way or another.
But she did now. This was way, way different. Maybe Greg didnt have a vain bone in his body, but facing a drastic change in appearance was still a terribly unnerving thing to cope with. If he had to deal with scars, that was more disturbing yet. Although theyd never been the touchy-feely kind of friends, again she reached for his hand and loosely laced her fingers with his. You know, if you get a new face, you could be even more drop-dead handsome than you are now.
Well, hell. You think thats possible?
She grinned. Hopefully not, because Im not sure I could survive living next door to that big ego, Stoner. With any luck, theyll let you keep a few scars, though. I dont know what it is about scars, but they either seem to appeal to a girls pirate or bad-boy biker fantasy. Youll probably have to beat the women off with a stick.
Not that. Not a fate worse than death. And how come I had to reach the vast age of thirty-two before I heard this interesting fact of life? Maybe youd better explain some more about that biker fantasy
There was a hint of devil in his eyes, enough to make her chuckle. Forget it. Women only tell those fantasies on a need-to-know basis. And you dont need to know anything else from meparticularly since I couldnt care less what you look like one way or anotherbut now youve got me thinking about this. Hey. You get a whole new face out of this deal? Where do I sign up?
Sheesh. Bite your tongue. Youre cuter than Meg Ryan now. No way you ever need to touch that face.
If you feel good enough to flirt, you cant be too bad off, Stoner. But we have to get serious, because any second now some nurse is bound to walk in and kick me out. Im trying to think of what you need done. Rachel foraged in her purse for her checkbooksince she didnt have a pad of paperand a pen. All right. Now you know I have a key to your house, so I can do the obvious stuffclose the windows, take care of perishables in the fridge, get your mail
I dont want to put you to any trouble.
Dont be a goose. Look at all the stuff you did for me over the last two years. She ripped off a deposit slip, clicked on her pen and started to make a to-do list.
Yeah, well, you didnt know a screwdriver from a hammer two years ago. But...if you dont mind, Id appreciate your calling my work. Monica.
Monica Kaufman was the CEO where Greg worked as a comptroller, Rachel already knew. Sure thing. And how about your parents? I dont know if you can make a long-distance call from a hospital room like this. You want me to call them?
His eyes closed, as if hed suddenly dropped off, just like that. But then he spoke again. No. I need to contact them, if only so they know where I am. But theyre both getting older, and I dont want to give them a shock or a scare if I dont have to. Ill find a way to call them myselfbut not until I know from the docs exactly whats going to happen.
He still hadnt opened his eyes. She hesitated. Greg, I dont want to stay, even another minute, if theres any chance you could fall asleep and really rest
Im not sleeping. Its just the drugs. I seem to keep zoning out and then somehow my mind starts replaying the accident....
You want to talk about it, get it off your chest?
Outside the door, carts wheeled by, nurses called, the loudspeakers kept snapping out codes. But inside Gregs room it was another world, a quiet, private world that only included the two of them. Their fingers had been loosely threaded together, but now his grip tightened until the heat of his palm nested in the heart-bed of hers. I was in the old MG, not the Volvo. On I-94 in the middle lane, just driving back to work after lunch. Thats all. Nothing weird. Only this truck ahead suddenly blew a front tire and he was swerving everywhere, all over the road.. and so was everyone behind him, trying to clear out of his way. I was the peanut butter between a Cadillac and an Explorer. My MG squished like a pancake. Lucky.
He wasnt through talking, but his voice was losing power, sounding increasingly syrup-thick and slow. She leaned forward, clasping his hand more snugly. Shed never held hands with Gregthered never been even a teensy problem with male-female chemistry between themand she felt embarrassed at her sudden awareness of his big fingers and maleness and the electric feeling of connection. Naturally, though, her emotions were nerves-sharpened. He was painfully describing how lucky he was to even be alive.
Three other cars were in the same smash-up. At least nobody was killed. Took the Jaws of Life to get two of us out of our cars. I dont even know where all the glass came from. The back of the one truck, maybe. But it was the glass that cut up my facecould have my eyes so easily. And I kept hearing this little girlshe was crying. Rach? Will you find out how she is for me?
Ill ask, Greg. I promise.
She was crying so hard, I told myself she had to be okay. I mean, nobody could bawl that loud if they werent basically pretty strong. But find out, okay? She was so little.
It was so typical of Stoner, worrying about others. Ill get an answer. But in the meantime, I think I should leave and you should rest. Only, before I come back tomorrow, can you think of some things you need me to bring? I assume you want your own toothbrush, but I dont know if you can use one if your jaws all wired up
Believe me, Ill find a way to use one. If I cant brush my teeth, Id have to commit hara-kiri. So yeah, I really would appreciate that.
And you probably want your own pajamas
Um, Rach. I dont do pajamas.
Oh. Well. She could feel a flush blooming on her cheeks and wanted to kick herself. At twenty-nine years oldand having been both married and divorcedit was downright ridiculous to fluster up at the idea of a man sleeping naked. Particularly when Greg was just a friend. Well, with all those bandages on your face, I dont think youll be needing a razor for a while. Ill bring some books and magazines, but there must be something else I can do. Abruptly she snapped her fingers. I know what.
What?
Your sacred lawn. All life would end if it didnt get mowed by Saturday, wouldnt it? So Ill get your grass cut. I wont manicure it like you do, but consider this is an offer I wouldnt make to even Mel Gibson. Even Brad Pitt. Were talking a true test of how much I love you, neighbor. Now...what else could be worrying you?
Nothing.
Well, something else may cross your mind, but Ill come back and visit tomorrow after work. You can make a list if you think of anything else.
His hand clutched hers just for a second longer, and then loosened. Rachthanks for coming.