New Beginnings (9 page)

He slid his hands in his pockets. Dressed in a warm sweater and jeans, he looked far more relaxed than Elena felt.

“Rafael says he’ll try to get us to the airport if we’re determined,” Cesar said. “But Sarah’s going to stay here with Isabel. If we get stranded, none of us wants Izzy to be stuck with us.”

“She’s been terribly excited about going to the airport to see the planes,” Elena protested, although she agreed that putting Izzy at risk wasn’t a good choice.

“We’d better leave soon if we’re going to have any chance of getting on the plane. Assuming the plane has any chance of taking off in this weather.”

“They haven’t closed the airport yet, have they?”

“Not yet. But there are already up to two-hour delays on most flights. The aircrews barely have time to deice the wings before the ice forms again. The conditions are very dangerous.”

Without the usual twinkle in his eyes, and his somber expression, Elena knew her husband was more than a little worried.

“I really, really want to try.” She heard the plea in her voice and the tremor of fear and disappointment. “If we don’t make it tonight, we can stay in Chicago and catch another flight tomorrow.”

“Maybe.” He came around to her side of the bed and kissed her. “I don’t want to disappoint you, querida. I’ll go talk to Rafael.”

When he left the room, she closed her eyes.
Please, Lord, I’ve dreamed so long about this trip. Is that wrong of me to want this so much?

She sat down on the edge of the bed and covered her mouth with her hand. Her chin trembled.

Was she being mulish insisting they leave now? Dear Lord, she hoped she wasn’t doing the wrong thing.

At the hospital, Dr. Drew handed Mrs. Witten’s chart to James. “The lab report is back. It’s pretty much as I expected. The liver is barely functioning, her enzymes are all but nonexistent, and she has an infection.”

“You’re starting her on antibiotics?” James asked.

“Intravenously. We have to do something about that infection before we do much of anything else.” Concern pulled the age lines in his face downward, and his somber gray eyes sent the same message. “I’ve ordered an MRI.”

“I’ll get her ready.”

James ordered the antibiotics from the pharmacy, slid the chart back in its place and walked down the hall to Mrs. Witten’s room. Her husband, a good-looking man in his early fifties, was there sitting beside her. He glanced up with a hopeful expression when James entered the room.

“How’s our patient feeling?” James asked.

An attractive young woman with dark, flowing hair stepped back from the hospital bed to give James some room. He noticed she wore a diamond ring on her left hand—she must be Mrs. Witten’s daughter Tammy, the bride-to-be.

“She seems so weak,” Tammy said. “I think she has a fever too.”

“Our Tammy inherited the worry gene from her father,” Mrs. Witten said, although her voice was barely above a whisper.

Tammy’s worry was well placed. James noted the patient’s flushed cheeks that nearly disguised her jaundice.

“The doctor has ordered some antibiotics for the infection you’ve developed,” James said.

“See, I told you, Mom. You’ve got a fever.”

James gently turned Mrs. Witten’s head so he could take her temperature in her ear. He’d see just how high her temperature had risen. “The doctor’s also ordered an MRI. They’ll be here to get you as soon as radiology is ready for you.”

“Oh, I hate MRIs. That tube makes me so claustrophobic.”

Her husband took her hand. “Think of something nice while you’re in there, like what kind of a cake Tammy should have for her wedding reception.”

James noted Tammy bit down on her lip and turned away from her mother. No one in this family was sure the mother of the bride was going to make it to the wedding. James and Dr. Drew would do their very best to make it possible for her to attend that wedding. But they were going to need some serious help from the Lord.

Apparently none of Mrs. Witten’s relatives were a match to be a live donor. James was sure either her husband or her daughter would have willingly given her part of their liver if they were able.

If Mrs. Witten was going to live, she needed someone else to die. Soon. And a generous family willing to allow a deceased loved one to become an organ donor.

Bundled up in her navy peacoat and wearing warm slacks and a sweater, Elena knelt by the kitchen door to give Izzy a good-bye hug. “Now, you be good for your daddy and Sarah. Tito and I will be back before you know it.”

Still pouting about not getting to go to the airport, Izzy turned her face away from Elena’s kiss. “Dorie’s going to miss you.”

“I know, Izzy. That means you have to give her extra hugs while I’m gone. Bearbear too.”

Her eyes filling with tears, Izzy shook her head. “She wants you to stay home.”

“I can’t, Izzy. Tito has already bought our tickets.” Regret zinged through Elena’s conscience.
Maybe I shouldn’t be leaving—

“Come on, Mom,” Rafael called. “The suitcases are in the Jeep. We’ve gotta get going.”

With a sigh, Elena picked up her carry-on and hurried to get into her four-wheel-drive SUV. Although the snow had already covered the driveway that had just been cleared, her SUV wouldn’t have any trouble maneuvering through much deeper snow, if necessary. Rafael’s aging van wouldn’t perform as well in this weather.

Elena chose to sit in the backseat and let the two men sit up front. The heater had been running, and the interior of the Jeep was warm compared to the outside air.

“Okay, here we go,” Cesar announced. He shifted gears and eased forward. As soon as the Jeep was out of the carport, the windshield wipers started swiping the snow away. With each pass more snow built up and needed to be cleared again.

Nearly at the end of the driveway, Cesar stopped the SUV. He frowned.

“Hang on a minute.” Popping open the door, Cesar stepped out into the cold and blowing snow. He walked to the back of the vehicle, stared down at the wheel, shook his head, and returned. “Looks like we’ve got a flat tire.”

“Oh no!” Elena’s heart sank.
Why now?
“What are you going to do?” she asked Cesar.

“Honey, maybe we ought to take this as a warning. I can change the tire, but we’re already cutting it close. If we run into any kind of trouble on the highway, we won’t make it to O’Hare. And that’s assuming the airport stays open.”

Elena covered her mouth with her hand. Her chin trembled. She had to be reasonable about their situation. If it wasn’t to be, she’d have to live with that.

Before she could tell Cesar to go ahead and cancel their flight, Rafael opened his door.

“Come on, Daddy. It’ll take five minutes for us to change the tire. We can still make it to O’Hare in time.”

Within minutes, both men were wrestling the flat off the SUV. Cesar rolled it aside while Rafael worked to free the spare. They moved so fast, with the ease of experienced mechanics, that the pair looked like they were vying for a NASCAR record.

Cesar released the jack. The SUV shuddered into place. While he climbed in behind the wheel again, Rafael jogged back to where Sarah and Izzy had been watching. He gave Izzy a quick kiss.

Then, to Elena’s surprise, he kissed Sarah, lingering a moment before hustling back to the vehicle. “See you both soon,” he called over his shoulder as they headed back inside.

“Did you see that?” Elena asked Cesar in a whisper.

“See what?”

“Rafael kissed Sarah good-bye.”

Raising his brows, he glanced into the rearview mirror and smiled. “Maybe the idea of spending some extra time with Sarah while we’re gone appeals to the boy.”

The boy—all five feet ten inches of him—yanked open the door. Breathless, a grinning Rafael climbed inside. “Okay, let’s get going.”

Cesar eyed him a moment. “You’re sure you’re ready to go now?”

“Time’s a wasting, Daddy.”

Still keeping a curious eye on Rafael, Cesar started the Jeep. The snow had piled up on the windshield, and the wipers struggled to clear a space.

Finally, Cesar inched the SUV forward onto the street. As he made the turn, he glanced into the side mirror and frowned. He stopped again.

Nerves on edge, Elena bit her lip. “What’s wrong now?”

“I don’t know. Sarah’s running after us waving her hands. There must be a problem.”

Looking through the back window, Elena realized Sarah hadn’t taken the time to put on a jacket to come outside. Elena’s first thought was for Izzy. Had she hurt herself? They’d barely made it as far as the street.

“Maybe we forgot something,” Cesar said.

“I put both suitcases in the back,” Rafael assured him.

Sarah raced up to the driver’s side, and Cesar lowered the window.

“What’s wrong?” he asked.

Breathing hard, Sarah leaned a hand against the open window. “I’m so glad I caught you. Margo, the travel agent, just called. O’Hare’s closed. All flights are canceled.”

I
NSTANTLY, EVERY MUSCLE IN ELENAS BODY FROZE.
After all they’d done, even fixing a flat in record time, they weren’t going to make their flight.

Their canceled flight.

An ache bloomed in her chest. Her breath stalled in her lungs and her eyes stung with tears.

“No,” she exhaleed.

In an effort to comfort her, Cesar patted her thigh. “I’m sorry, querida.”

Fingers trembling, her hand fluttered around her face, touching her lips, her chin, the lump that filled her throat. “Maybe they’ll open the airport later. We could—”

“Margo said O’Hare’s likely to stay closed for at least forty-eight hours,” Sarah said. “Maybe longer if this weather keeps up.”

Two days! They’d miss the better part of the flamenco competition.

“Maybe the weatherman’s wrong. We could drive to Chicago and wait,” she pleaded, feeling foolish even as she realized there was no way in the world to save the trip they’d planned. “Maybe they’ll open the airport tomorrow. We’d only be a day late.” Her chin trembled.

“Thanks for chasing after us,” Cesar said to Sarah. “You’d better get back inside before you freeze out here.”

Snowflakes stuck to Sarah’s blonde hair and her pale gray eyes filled with regret. “I’m sorry, Elena. I know how much you wanted this trip.”

She stepped away from the Jeep, and Cesar shifted into reverse. Slowly, the SUV inched back toward the house. Snow crunched under the heavy tires. Wind and snowflakes blew in the open window, chilling Elena to the bone. Her teeth started to chatter. Tears spilled out of her eyes, hot streams racing down her cheeks.

Cesar parked the SUV in the carport.

Rafael climbed out and offered his hand to Elena. “Come on, Mama. Let’s get inside and warm up. I’ll start a fire in the fireplace.”

Elena didn’t want to go inside. She wanted her dream! A dream deferred once again.

With force of will, she let Rafael help her out of the SUV and went inside.

“Buela! You came back!”

“Yes, sweetie, we came back.” She ran her hand over the top of Izzy’s head, the hair a soft caress on her palm.

The men brought in the suitcases, and Sarah helped Elena out of her coat.

“Margo said you could call her,” Sarah reported. “She’ll try to reschedule your trip for another time.”

His hand on the small of Elena’s back, Cesar ushered her into the living room. “I’ll take care of it, querida. We’ll still go to Spain. I promise.”

Cesar had always been good about keeping his promises. Elena knew that. But at the moment, “another time” seemed like pipe dream.

Without chains on the car, Heath and Candace never would have made it home from work. The snowplows were falling behind clearing the main roads, and none of the side streets had been plowed. Few vehicles had ventured out. Everyone was talking about the storm of the century.

Heath pulled into the garage, and they both got out of the car.

“Before we left the hospital,” Heath said, “I heard that O’Hare had been closed. They don’t know when it will reopen again.”

Yawning, Candace opened the door to go inside. “I hope Elena and Cesar got off on their trip.”

“Just hope they didn’t get stuck at the airport. There have been so many canceled flights, you can bet there isn’t a vacant hotel room within twenty miles of O’Hare.”

The day had been so dreary, Candace could barely keep her eyes open.

“Mommy and Heath are home!” Howie charged toward them at full speed, his stockinged feet flying. “I beat Grammy and Brooke three times at Candyland, and then Brooke didn’t want to play anymore.”

“Good job!” Heath gave him a high five.

“We went outside to build a snowman but my pants got all wet, and Grammy said I had to come in.”

“Good for her.” Candace grabbed him long enough to give him a kiss. In the family room, she noticed Legos were scattered everywhere. She’d worry about Howie putting them away later.

She found her mother in the kitchen peeling potatoes, her slacks and sweater protected by a frilly, pink apron. “Hi, Mom. Sorry about you having to deal with housebound children.”

“It’s fine, dear. I did finally let them outside so they could use up some of their energy, but that didn’t last long.”

Candace sniffed the air. “What am I smelling?”

“Chicken cacciatore. It’s in the slow cooker.”

As Candace lifted the lid, the scent welled up to her, stronger than before—the biting aroma of garlic and onions with a layered undercurrent of stewed tomatoes. Her stomach took a tumble.

“Hope that’s all right for dinner,” Janet said, her tone worried.

“It’s fine,” Candace said, trying not to show her distaste. “I’m not very hungry, though. I think I may have caught something.”

“Why don’t you go rest? Dinner will be a while yet.”

“Thanks, Mom. Both Heath and I really appreciate—”

“Go on, dear. You look tired.”

Despite the fact she was tired, Candace wished people would stop saying she looked that way. Still a relatively new bride, she ought to be bubbly and energetic. The past few weeks she sure hadn’t felt that way.

Maybe she was simply getting old.

Heath had already shed his jacket and was on the floor playing with Howie. They had some wild looping track set up that one car after another shot off into the air, only to crash onto the carpet accompanied by great laughter on their part. Boys!