A Deeper Dimension (21 page)

Diana sucked in her breath, wincing in pain. “But he will be okay—you said that? He’ll be all right?”

Grace took her hands and pressed them with her own. “He should be all right.” She put the emphasis on the word “should”. “They think he’s out of danger now, but they’re still watching him closely for a while longer before moving him out of intensive care. The danger is that he might develop pneumonia, which would be disastrous with his perforated lung.”

Diana relaxed a little on her pillows. “He’ll be all right, Grace. Just you wait and see, he’ll be all right.” It was spoken with a note of desperation as her eyes looked to Grace for strength.

Grace nodded, speaking firmly. “Of course he’ll be all right!” She smiled down at Diana’s poor bruised face. “You haven’t even asked about yourself yet. Don’t you want to know how you are?”

Diana grimaced. “If it’s anything like I feel, I’m not sure I want to hear it! I feel awful.”

Grace smoothed the pillows on the bed and bustled about doing odd jobs in the room. She spoke cheerfully. “You were the lucky one. You’d been trapped under the car as it had fallen, but its fall had been broken by several large rocks that were all around you and they kept you alive. Otherwise, the weight of the car would have killed you almost certainly.” Oh, great! Diana thought. Grace came around and stared down into her face. She spoke very seriously now. “Diana, we’ve all been thanking God for the miraculous way you were saved. Of course,” she continued, trying to make light of Diana’s injuries so as not to worry her, “your poor legs were broken and your body was banged around badly. You’ll probably have the sniffles from being out in the rain for so long, but otherwise, you’ll be just fine!”

Diana nodded, feeling suddenly very tired and sleepy. “What about my arms and face? Why do I have bandages on them? I can’t seem to remember.”

Grace replied, “You just got some superficial scratches from the windshield shattering. There won’t be scars.”

“And Mason Steel?” she mumbled, trying to stay awake to hear Grace’s answer.

“For heaven’s sake, don’t think about it now! Everything’s fine, and all you have to worry about is falling asleep for a little nap…” Grace looked down at Diana’s closed eyes as she softly ended and tiptoed out of the room.

Diana had a very long time to herself in the next few days in which all she had to do was think. She couldn’t seem to keep her mind away from the horrible scene in the bedroom at the Paynes’ and she couldn’t block out the horror of the accident. Later on she was told by one of the doctors that it had been a drunken driver in the other car who had crossed the meridian and had caused their crash. He had not survived.

Diana couldn’t help the jumble of thoughts that kept tumbling through her head. She thought quite a bit about Alex, morbidly imagining him dead in the car, a still dark figure that would never move again. She had different pictures of him flash through her head. She remembered the talks that they had shared and the fun times together. She remembered how it felt to have his lips hard and pressing on hers, and the feel of his arms surrounding her and holding her so close. She imagined him caressing Alicia and felt sick to her stomach.

The next day, a nurse came into Diana’s room and told her with a smile that Alex had been conscious in the night and had asked about her. Diana felt the ready tears of weakness and relief wash away her fears as she heard the news. Over and over, she thanked God that Alex was alive. Later on in the day, she asked for a mirror to see her face. The nurse was reluctant to give in, but after much cajoling and arguing, was persuaded to find a mirror. Diana was prepared for a bruised face, but she was shocked at the battered and scratched visage that met her eyes when she peered into the mirror. Touching her check with one bandaged hand, she stared soberly at herself. “You were lucky, my girl,” she told the apparition. “Both you and Alex were.”

She went into a deep depression soon afterwards. She began to think of the future and what she would do when she was released from the hospital, but all she could envision was a great blackness ahead of her. There was no possibility of her going back to work for Mason Steel, of that she was sure. Too much had happened. She couldn’t face the thought of working day after day in such close contact with Alex, was torn between jealously wondering who Alex might be seeing, taking out or—she forced herself to say it—touching, and the fierce desire to touch him herself.

With these thoughts, Diana’s breathing stilled as she considered the implications of what her jealousy meant. The truth hit her with such a terrific clarity that she put her hands up to her head and groaned in anguish. It was so obvious, so incredibly obvious that she was amazed at her own stupidity in not realising it before.

She was in love with Alex.

Realising the truth about oneself is not always easy or pleasant, and Diana was certainly not an exception.

She began to see herself differently from what she had before. She had considered the attraction she felt for Alex a threat to her own strength of personality. Now she realised that it was herself that she was afraid of. She was afraid of getting hurt. She was afraid of her own fragility.

As she contemplated this, she soon understood much about herself that had never been apparent before. She knew nothing of love or caring in the years gone by. As she tried to come to terms with this new emotion that had so changed her, she felt panicked at the vulnerability of self, the uncertainties that beset her. She couldn’t handle it, and she couldn’t handle seeing Alex.

Then she came to a decision. Looking around for the phone, she managed to grip it awkwardly and pull it off the stand by the bed to sit it on her stomach. She had a hard time dialling the numbers because of her bandaged hand, but she persisted and finally heard the phone on the other end of the connection begin to ring.

“Good afternoon, this is Alex Mason’s office, Carrie speaking—may I help you?” the pleasant female voice on the other end answered.

“Hello, Carrie, this is Diana,” she replied.

“Diana! How are you feeling, dear? I was just planning to come and see you!” Carrie exclaimed with delight at hearing Diana’s voice.

“I’m doing really well. The doctor says I have to stay in these casts for too long, though, and then I have to wear a brace on one leg after that!” she sighed in exasperation. “But I think I’m the lucky one. Alex has it worse than I.”

“You were both lucky,” Carrie said seriously.

After a tiny pause, Diana came right to the point. “Carrie, I was wondering if you could do something for me. Would you type up a letter if I dictate it to you over the phone and could you bring it when you come to see me tonight?”

“Sure thing,” Carrie affirmed. “Just let me get a pencil and paper…there, I’m all set. Shoot, boss.”

Diana started to dictate and had barely got into the body of the letter when the other woman stopped her.

“This is a letter of resignation! Diana, why?” Carrie interrupted her, aghast.

“I…need a vacation,” Diana said lamely. She had been prepared for this kind of reaction but still had not worked out what to say. It really was funny how often lately she had felt like a fool. She, however, didn’t laugh as she thought this; it hit too close to home. She’d laugh about it later, later when all the feelings died and peace came back into her life. Then she would sit back and chuckle about how she was head over heels in love with that head guy at—where was it?—Mason Steel, so long ago. Diana did smile at that. Never could she treat it so lightly. There would be no laughs, not from her, not about this.

Carrie was trying to talk her out of the decision when Diana focused back in on the conversation. “…please think about it a while longer. There’s no need to hurry and you’ll have plenty of time to convalesce when you get out of hospital.”

“Carrie, trust me, I know what I want. I—need it for personal reasons. If I put in my resignation now, then I won’t have to go back to work out my notice.” Diana now had a note of desperation in her voice. “Please, Carrie, it’s not an impulse. Please!”

Carrie was reluctant to give in. “I’ll finish it if you’ll promise me one thing. Will you talk to Alex personally and not just send him a typed letter? Will you do that?”

“I was planning on it,” Diana assured her.

Later that evening, Carrie came to see Diana and gave her the letter to sign, watching her painfully slow efforts to move the pen across the paper. Carrie started to speak, interrupting Diana as she began to say her thanks.

“I talked it over with my husband, Carl, and we both would like to have you come and stay with us for a week or two when you get out of the hospital—now don’t say no so quickly!” Carrie forestalled Diana’s immediate reaction. “Please, just think it over. You’re going to have a tough time in your apartment all by yourself at first. We think you should stay with someone until you get your casts off at least. Then it should be easier for you to get around. You’d be able to drive yourself to get groceries.”

Diana hesitated. She said finally, “All right, I’ll think about it.”

When she talked to the doctor about Carrie’s proposition, he agreed with her. “You really will need to have someone around to help you at first. Those casts won’t be coming off for a while and you’re going to be immobile. I’d stay with someone if I were you,” he advised.

“You guys win,” Diana sighed. “I’ll do it.”

After what seemed like a lifetime in the hospital, she was finally able to leave. She tried to look forward to getting out of the uniformly white room that she had been in for so long, but she couldn’t manage to feel excitement about anything.

Carrie and Carl helped her to pack and drove her to their comfortable home that was situated well outside the hustle and bustle of New York. They gave Diana her own room on the first floor of the house so that she didn’t have to negotiate the stairs and they brought her clothes and personal items from her apartment. She felt ridiculously weak on that first day out of hospital, going straight to bed shortly after arriving. There she lay looking up at the ceiling, tears trickling silently out of the corners of her eyes. Then she fell asleep.

After a few days of living with the Stevenses, she began to understand just what a loving household was like. Carrie had two daughters, the older sixteen and the younger fourteen. There was such a lack of tension between the two girls that Diana was amazed. Always before in every home that she had lived in, she had been subject to petty jealousies and comparisons between herself and any of the children in the foster-homes. But in Carrie’s home there was nothing but good-natured ribbing and affection. It was a pleasing atmosphere for Diana, who found herself relaxing more than she ever had in her life.

On a Friday evening, she was lounging on the couch watching the early evening news when Stephanie, the younger one, came bouncing to the couch to throw herself sprawling on one end. She was a thin and gangly-looking girl with braces and a wide, wide smile. Dark blonde hair tumbled anyhow down her back and there was a smattering of freckles across the bridge of her nose. Diana privately thought she was adorable. Stephanie grinned at her, metal winking in the soft light.

“Hiya, hiya, hiya,” she drawled with an atrocious nasal twang. “Diana, I have a proposition for you.”

“All right, what do you want?” Diana sighed, settling back on her cushions resignedly.

“Want?” Stephanie’s eyes rounded as she put on her most innocent of looks. “My dear, I am the soul of unselfishness, really I am. What could there be that I would want?”

“Obviously you want something.”

“A mere trifle, a slight favour, almost nothing,” Stephanie hummed the words as she stared serenely up at the ceiling.

“You want me to put up your hair again, like I did yesterday?” Diana hazarded a guess.

Stephanie was off of the couch and heading for the hall before Diana could blink. “I’ll get my pins!” came floating over her shoulder as she disappeared.

Seconds later, two somethings hurtled into the living room and turned into human beings as Denise, the older of the two, won the race and deposited herself in front of Diana on the floor. She shrieked, “She promised to put mine up tonight—oh, Stephie—now don’t, get off, will you—ow, goldarn it!” The two human girls dissolved into a large something that writhed on the floor as each one tickled the other in order to get the position nearest Diana.

Diana put two fingers in her mouth and whistled piercingly. Instant silence reigned, broken only by Stephanie’s exclamation of admiration. “Golly, Di! Would you teach me that?”

“No way!” Diana told her. “There’s too much noise around here already. Look, I might have a solution to the problem. Who leaves first tonight?”

“I do,” Denise informed her. “Johnny is picking me up at seven o’clock.”

“I have to be over to Sherrie’s house by eight,” Stephanie put in as she plopped into a large chair.

“Easy solution. I’ll fix Denise’s hair first, then I’ll do yours, Steph,” said Diana. She glanced at her wristwatch. It was twenty minutes to seven. “That means we’ve got to hurry, Denise. Are you ready now?”

“Sure thing, jelly bean. Could you fix it in a French braid like last time?” Denise asked, settling herself in easy reach of Diana’s hands. “My hair looked really super—and Johnny liked it too.”

“Sure thing, jelly bean,” Diana echoed Denise’s words. She started to brush Denise’s hair with deft fingers. “Hold still, now! This takes intense concentration.”