Phantom of Riverside Park (30 page)

He was gonna be real good so he could go home
soon. ‘Fore he went to bed he promised God, an’ God said
all
right, Hal Luya
, just like in church. He wished God would
learn his name. Nicky was gonna tell him someday, but Papa said it
wasn’t polite to argue.

The new lady made biscuits nearly as good as
Papa’s, an’ Nicky ‘bout busted eatin’ so many. Then she told him
Mommy was coming, an’ he said, “Can I watch for her,” and the lady
said, “Baby, you stand at that window as long as you want to.”

He pressed his nose to the glass. Bear’s too.
Bear was real ‘cited. Nicky needed to go to the bathroom, but he
was scared to leave the window. What if Mommy came and he didn’t
see her and she went away and that mean lady with the Halloween
mouth came and took him to another house?

“She’s here,” the new lady said. Her name was
Sally.

Nicky pulled Bear up close and whispered in
his ear, “See. I tole you God said
yes
.”

His Mommy started crying when she saw him.
Nicky felt like crying, too, but he didn’t. He was being real good
and real brave so he could go home.

o0o

It like to have killed Thomas to see that
baby standing there so brave and Elizabeth squeezing him around the
middle and crying her eyes out. The awful words on the custody
papers got stuck in his mind and wouldn’t get out, no matter how
hard Thomas tried to concentrate on the joyful reunion between
Nicky and Elizabeth. All of a sudden he felt weak as a kitten and
had to sit down without even being invited, which in his book was
about the most impolite thing you could do in the house of a
perfect stranger.

Of course, Quincy’s daughter Sally was not
exactly a stranger, but still he felt like a lout, and wobbly
besides. He reckoned too little sleep and too much worry would do
that to a man. Especially a man his age.

He was fixing to try and strike up another
bargain with God. He could feel it coming on. And sitting right
there on that couch with the chintz roses that hadn’t faded a speck
even though it was in the bright sunshine pouring through those
fancy French windows he sent a silent petition winging
heavenward.

“Lord, it’s me again, your old friend, Thomas
Jennings. But then I guess you know my name by now. If you don’t
you ought to, meanin’ no disrespect.”

“You see those two over yonder? They mean the
world to me, and it would just about kill me to die and leave them
torn apart like this. Now, I’m hopin’ and prayin’ that won’t
happen. I’m hopin’ and prayin’ You’ll give me a little more time.
At least another year, maybe, till all this gets straightened out.
I’m not a selfish man, mind you. I’m just askin’, is all. And
hopin’.”

“Papa!” Nicky was bouncing up on his toes in
front of Thomas, his cowlick bobbing and his face shining. “I got a
‘prise for you.”

“Well, I sure could use one right about
now.”

Nicky raced to the kitchen, and Elizabeth sat
down beside him and put her hand on his arm.

“Papa, are you feeling all right? You don’t
look good.”

“I haven’t looked good in thirty years,
Elizabeth. I don’t know why I should start now.”

She was studying him like he might be a bug
under a microscope, and he could tell by the way she got that
little wrinkle in her brow she was going to say something else
regarding his health, probably ask a bunch of questions he didn’t
want to answer.

It was Nicky who saved him. He raced back
with a handful of cookies and a mouth decorated with chocolate.

“See. I got cookies for you, Papa. You won’t
have to salve over a hot stove.”

“Who says I’ve been slaving over a hot
stove?”

“Uncle Fred.”

“Uncle Fred talks too much. He’s always
talking when he ought to be listening.”

Nicky giggled, and it was the happiest sound
Thomas had heard in days. Then the boy grabbed his mother around
the legs, and she pretended he had wrestled her to the floor where
they both rolled around like bear cubs.

They stayed until it was time for Elizabeth
to go to work at the bakery.

“I’ll be back tonight to tuck you in,
Nicky.”

“You pwomise.”

“I promise.”

“Will you read three bedtime stories?”

“Yes.”

“Four?”

“Maybe, we’ll see.”

She teared up again when she hugged him
goodbye, and Thomas could tell she didn’t want to let go. Who could
blame her?

Nicky stood at the window and waved until
they were in the car.

“I wouldn’t even go in to the bakery if I
wasn’t afraid of being fired.”

“That Celine is one major witch,” Quincy
said. “I don’t ever buy doughnuts from her, never mind they’re the
best in town. I’m not putting hard-earned money in the pocket of an
old’ fool like Celine DeShay.”

Elizabeth’s laughter seemed to be coming from
someplace faraway, and Thomas had this funny feeling that he had
floated up out of the car and was looking down on the two of them
from a cloud. A black cloud, which didn’t surprise him one bit. It
was that same black cloud that had been following them around ever
since Helen Parkins took Nicky.

“Let me out at the park,” he said.

“Are you sure, Papa?”

“I’m sure. Maybe the fresh air will do me
some good.”

“I don’t like to leave you here by
yourself.”

“I won’t be by myself. Fred said he was going
to sit in the sunshine today. Next thing I know he’ll be tryin’ to
take over my park bench.”

Elizabeth parked at the entrance, then got
out and held onto his elbow as if was one of those feeble old
codgers he’d seen in the hallways of nursing homes.

“Don’t stay too long, Papa. When you get
ready to go home, take the bus.”

“Or call me,” Quincy hollered out the car
window. “I ain’t got nothing to do today but take care of my
friends.”

“Stop your fussing, you two, and go on.
You’re makin’ out like I’m old.” He did a little soft shoe on the
sidewalk to show he could still cut the mustard, but it seemed the
sidewalk had tilted sideways and the ground had moved farther away
than it ought to be.

“Papa? Are you all right.”

“Never felt better. Go on, now. I see Fred.
We’ve got lots to talk about.”

Fred hollered at him, something Thomas
couldn’t quite make out.

“Quit your yelling. I’ll be there in a
minute.”

Fred lit into him the minute he sat down.
“You’re gettin’ slow as Christmas. If you don’t watch out
Elizabeth’ll be gettin’ you a walkin’ cane.”

“I need a walkin’ cane about like a hog needs
a side saddle.”

Fred slapped his thighs, laughing. Thomas
joined in.

“Lord, Thomas, don’t it feel good just to set
here in the sunshine for a little while and forget everything
that’s happened?”

“Yes, it does. We got some good news today,
for a change. Quincy got Nicky moved to her daughter’s house.”

“That’s one helluva woman. I’m liable to ask
her out dancin’ one of these days.”

“I didn’t know you could dance.”

“Dancin’s not the point. Sparkin’s the
point.”

“You’re so old you wouldn’t know a spark if
it set your britches on fire.”

“Who are you callin’ old, you old fart? Look
at yourself. Can’t hardly walk without a cane.”

Thomas wished Fred wouldn’t keep bringing
that cane business up. The thing that bothered him the most is that
it was the truth. Lately he’d been wobbly as a newborn calf.

But he wasn’t about to give in to old age. No
sirree. And just to prove it to Fred, he decided to cut the mustard
around the park bench, only it didn’t turn out that way at all. He
stood up and first the bench moved, then the ground, and the next
thing he knew he was flat on his back and Fred was bending over him
working his mouth like a fish.

Thomas tried to say speak up, I can’t hear
you, but then Fred started slobbering and blubbering and Thomas
felt sorry for the old coot. But there wasn’t a thing in the world
he could do about it, for the black cloud that had been following
him around for so long suddenly swooped down out of nowhere and
covered him up.

o0o

David didn’t know what compelled him to look
at his office window at the park, but he’d learned never to ignore
his intuitions. He left the report he was reading in mid-sentence.
The first place he looked was toward Thomas Jennings’s favorite
park bench, and that’s when he saw Thomas on the ground with Fred
Lollar bending over him.

He raced back to his desk as fast as a man
with a prosthetic leg could move, then he buzzed Peter. “Call the
ambulance. Thomas Jennings is down in the park.”

Peter would follow instructions to the letter
without delaying to ask questions. David hurried back to the window
and focused his telescope on the scene below his window.

“Thomas, can you hear me? Can you see me?
Thomas, answer me.”

Fred Lollar was almost in hysterics. David
hated to think what Elizabeth would be like when she found out
about her grandfather.

As he abandoned his telescope and headed
toward Peter’s office he could hear the sirens screaming. In a
matter of minutes Thomas Jennings would be on his way to the
hospital. Elizabeth was David’s concern now.

Peter looked startled when David burst into
his office.

“I have a job that needs your immediate
attention.”

“The ambulance is on its way,” Peter
said.

“Yes, I know. I want you to call Edwards,
then pick up Elizabeth at Celine’s Bakery and carry her to the
hospital.”

“What shall I tell her?”

“Tell her Thomas passed out in the park and
tell her in the gentlest, kindest manner you know how. She’s
already carrying a load way too heavy for her.”

Peter nodded. He was already on the intercom
instructing Edwards to bring around the car. Within two minutes he
was headed to the door.

“Peter.” His assistant turned around. “Hold
her hand when you tell her. Put your arm around her and let her
lean on you. She’s going to need that.” David grabbed a box of
tissues off the desk and tossed them to Peter. “Take these. She’ll
need them. And, Peter... stay with her as long as she needs
you.”

“Don’t you worry about a thing, David. I’ll
take as good care of her as if she belongs to you.”

McKenzie had been talking. What would she say
when she found out about David’s proposals to Elizabeth? What would
she do if Elizabeth accepted the second one?

The very thought of being married to
Elizabeth Jennings filled him with such wonder, such terror, he
could hardly breathe. Even if it would be in name only.

Still, she’d be in his house, eating at his
table, reading his books, sharing his linens.

David couldn’t bear to think about that right
now. Furthermore, he didn’t have the luxury of such musings. The
main thing was to ensure that Thomas Jennings got the very best of
care.

He picked up the phone and called the
hospital.

She could lose Papa, too. It was unthinkable.
Elizabeth huddled in a hard chair in the waiting room and relieved
every minute since Peter Forrest had walked into Celine’s Bakery
and announced that Papa was on his way to the hospital.

Celine had yelled that if she walked out she
might as well not come back, which struck Elizabeth as a plain
relief. She hadn’t realized how much she hated working at that
bakery until she had settled herself in the limousine and leaned
back on the leather seat cushions knowing that she never had to go
back.

The relief didn’t last long, though, because
Peter Forrest was telling how Papa had passed out in the park. He’d
patted her hand and looked her straight in the eyes and even handed
her some tissues when she cried.

He kept saying that everything possible would
be done for Papa, and not to worry, which was like telling the sun
not to shine.

How could she help but worry? Papa was too
old for all the heartache she’d somehow brought into their lives.
Stress kills. She’d read about it. And now it was happening right
before her eyes.

“Can I get you anything, Elizabeth?” Peter
Forrest was perhaps the nicest young man she’d ever met. Polite.
Kind. Gentlemanly. And extremely handsome.

“I’ll be fine. Thank you. You don’t have to
stay.”

“I want to stay.”

He sounded sincere. He even looked
sincere.

Now that she was through crying, now that she
knew Papa was still alive, she was full of questions for him. Not
why was he there? David had sent him, of course. Peter had already
been on his iPhone calling in a report.

“How did David know about Papa?”

“He buzzed me on the intercom and said to
call an ambulance, that your grandfather was down in the park. He
must have seen the whole thing from his window.”

“Then you’re the one who saved Papa’s
life.”

“I’d say David is the one.”

“Both of you. How can I ever thank you?”

Peter smiled. “You just did.”

She had no more time for questions because
Papa’s doctor was there.

“How is he?” she said.

“The EKGs show Wolff-Parkinson-White
Syndrome. We have him on an IV, and we’ll be monitoring him very
closely for a few days. If all goes well, as we expect it to, we’ll
switch from IV to a dosage of Flecanide.”

He might as well have been talking Greek.
Obviously Timothy Lawrence was one of those doctors who figured
that everybody and his dog had a degree in medicine and was
therefore conversant with medical jargon.

When he asked if she had any questions she
was as shocked as if he’d asked her did she want to strip buck
naked in the middle of the waiting room. She’d figured he would be
the kind of doctor you’d have to grab by the coattails to keep him
from flying out the door, then wring by the neck to get the least
bit of information you could make heads or tails of.