Reclaiming Lily (21 page)

“What’s the matter?” Kai asked.

“The ducks fly away when I try to feed dem.” She stamped a sandaled foot. “Dey won’t even talk to me!”

After a nod from a woman who stood protectively near, Kai knelt by the girl. “Perhaps they are busy. For that, they should be scolded. How could they not take time for a nice child like you?”

Earnest eyes gripped Kai. “Could I put them in time out?”

A giggle escaped. Oh, this one, full of spirit! So like Third Daughter. Kai clucked her tongue. “Well, now, that is an idea. But I have a better one.”

The girl glanced at the woman, who nodded. A peanut fell to the ground. “Den what?”

“Give your time to ducks that won’t leave.” Kai’s heart swelled to remember her first view of the waddling bronze ducks of Boston, so carefree, yet so sure, so safe. It was at that moment that she had fallen in love with America, where imagination so often chased, and caught up with, real life.

“Where are those ducks that won’t leave?” the little girl demanded.

“I’ll show you.”

The woman shadowed the girl. Protecting? Waiting? Hoping? Kai did not know.

Time sighed sweetly, like the leaves that fell about them. Kai and David and the little girl fed peanuts to Mrs. Mallard and her eight ducklings. Content as house pets, the ducklings seemed to nose the girl’s feet as she giggled with glee. The girl’s mother stepped close. “I don’t know your name, but thank you.” She gathered a shawl about bony shoulders. “Her father just died. We’ve had a rough time getting her to sleep, getting her to do anything. She thinks everything will fly away and leave her.” The woman shivered. “Just like those birds.”

Kai wrote the name of a pediatric counselor on the back of her business card and reassured the woman that such behavior was normal.

When the two left, David pulled Kai near Mrs. Mallard. “Close your eyes.”

Kai complied and tried to smile.
These Americans see unexpected surprises as good things. I will do my best to adjust to their way of thinking
.

“Hold out your hand.”

Something smooth—plastic?—brushed against her palm. She opened her eyes. A cell phone lay in her hand. What Cheryl had insisted she get. What she had avoided. Was it not enough to have an answering service, a receptionist, a roommate efficient at message-taking? “It’s . . .”

“I know, I know.” David tweaked her cheeks. “You’re trying to think of something nice to say.” He grabbed the phone and punched
2
on her new gift.

Dreamy music—a nocturne?—muted the sound of their breathing. Kai’s skin tingled. She touched David’s arm. “What . . . where . . . ?”

Laughing, David pulled that music—and another cell phone—from his pocket. He held two phones. Hers. His. Kai’s hands flew to her face. He had somehow programmed this thing, with the pressing of one button, to call her!

“Hello.” He handed her one of the phones.

She tried to press a digital readout.

He laughed, then flipped open a cover. She held the phone to her ear, heard David’s gentle breathing, and locked eyes with him.

“Hey, Kai. It’s David.”

She could not speak. Her voice . . . her heart . . . was held captive by every tender syllable that silly gadget projected. Perhaps she did need a cell phone, after all. Just like she needed David. She glanced into eyes that echoed the love in his voice. Dared she hope that the doctor devoting his life to the care of cardiac patients would give his heart to her?

“I am just one ring away.” David still had not blinked. Neither did Kai, so intent was she to preserve the moment. “If I am in surgery, on call, leave a message.” His voice did not waver, nor did that gaze. “As soon as humanly possible, I will get back to you.”

The air horn of an 18-wheeler on the Texas freeway obliterated her Boston memories. Blinking, Kai flagged down the cab pulling into the center’s circular drive.

Dear David, you have kept the promise witnessed by Boston’s elms and maples . . . until now. I have left you three messages over the span of three hours. Why, at a time when I crave the tone that lowers my blood pressure, when I need advice from one who has pulled lives from the other side, do you not answer?

After she hopped into the cab and gave the driver her address, she again jabbed
2
on the Speed Dial. “Please leave a message,” informed a nasally voiced woman.

The phone snapped shut, as did her hopes for time with David.

Kai watched truckers streak by as the skyline of Fort Worth neared. She had left David not one but three messages. There was nothing more to say that could be communicated over phone lines.

Another cabbie—this one wearing a cowboy hat.

“Could you take me to the Longhorn Palace?”

The man tipped his hat. His big-as-Texas smile showed missing teeth. “Hang on, ma’am!” he bellowed. “I’ll spur this baby on down the line. Getcha there in no time!”

While Kai gripped the armrest, the man regaled her with talk of looking for eight, apparently a score in the rodeo game, and “bucking Big Red.” Kai comprehended enough to know that David would relish his stories. If only he were here. . . .

The cab pulled into a street crowded with what the cabbie called honky-tonks and slop-slingers. More Texas talk David would enjoy.

Glad to shut the door on unrequited hopes and crazy driving, Kai paid the cabbie and wobbled from the taxi. Christmas lights marked the perimeter of a building that resembled saloons on the sets of David’s Westerns. A life-sized Plexiglas longhorn pawed and snorted from its corral by the entrance. Kai half-expected John Wayne himself, wearing a six-gun and cowboy hat, to shove through swinging doors. Kai smiled. Rodeo Cabbie, with his wild drive, had set the tone for dinner!

“Howdy, ma’am. Welcome to Cowtown and the Longhorn Palace.”

Boots clomped across a planked floor as a greeter met Kai and led her inside. Laughter rose from a bar that spanned the long wall of the restaurant. A buffalo, antelope, and yet another longhorn gave her glassy-eyed stares. Kai’s abdomen tightened. How much face would she lose with the Powells if she ordered vegetarian?

They wove through a maze of tables covered with checkered cloths and entered another room. Another. Remembering why she had come, Kai tightened her hold on her handbag. Was a room reverberating with
yippees
and
yee-haws
a place to discuss deadly disease?

“Kai! Over here!” Joy jumped up and then plopped back into her chair, as if she’d embarrassed herself with her enthusiasm. Still, a coquettish wave of her hand reflected the easy way they had talked at the jail, the way they had anticipated each other’s gait, falling in step like . . . Kai’s throat tightened.
The ways of First Daughter and me
. Seeing Joy made Kai hungry for the presence of Ling, Mei, and Father, who wrote seldom and called never, as they had no phone.
Oh, that we could reunite! Sooner and not later. . . .

“Bye-bye! Enjoy y’all’s steaks!” Curls cascaded when the hostess whirled and flounced out of sight.

Kai recalled the wall-mounted animals.
I will do my best. But do not count on it, Miss Texas
.

Joy waved Kai into the chair next to hers. Across from Kai sat Andrew; across from Joy, Gloria. A cowgirl in a miniskirt and pointed-toe boots sashayed to their table and distributed menus and Mason jars filled with water.

“We’ll need a bit of time.” Andrew, smooth as ever, chatted with the waitress. “How ’bout ah give you a holler when we’re ready?”

“Yee-haw!” Andrew and the waitress high-fived. Joy rolled her eyes. Kai suppressed the same response and then decided to mimic Joy. America’s let-it-all-hang-out philosophy just might foster community and humor.
Something this family needs.

“Did you get a chance to kick back in your room?” Andrew stretched casually and sipped his water as if this were a social function rather than a discussion of Joy’s future. Not so different from the teahouse approach in China.
A game I can play.

“No. I called the office. They’ve survived just fine without me.”

Andrew chuckled, then asked, “Is it a big practice?”

One of the biggest, the best, in the country, if not the world.
“Perhaps small by Texas standards.” Kai also sipped water. “We are growing, slowly but surely.”

“How cool is it to hold people’s lives in your hands, like, every day?” Kai noticed that Joy had Nicole’s habit of bouncing her leg.

Kai massaged fingers chilled by the frigid glass. “It is both a sorrow and a joy.”

Gloria had begun to dig into her palms, surely fearing another sit-through of the Healing Right Hand’s history.
Do not worry, mother of Joy. If—no, when—Joy hears about my gift, it will be in a more dignified place than the Longhorn Palace
.

Kai brushed at her sleeve. “That is a story for another time.”

Andrew covered Gloria’s hand with his. Kai could not help but notice how their fingers intertwined perfectly, how, with their freckles and pale skin, it was hard to distinguish between the two. So different in this way from her and David. As his parents loved to point out.

“A story you must hear, Joy,” Andrew said.

“Yes.” Gloria gave a polite smile. “Kai told us many, um, interesting things.”

Joy’s swinging foot clipped Kai in the calf. “Sorry. I’d love to hear them. Like, what’s wrong with now?”

Andrew picked up his menu and ran his finger along its laminated edge. “There’s another thing we want to talk about.”

Joy crossed her arms, as if to set up a barricade. Teenaged attitude, striking again?

Andrew again took Gloria’s hand. “When we got home, we told Joy about the doctor’s visit.”

Kai felt her face fall. They already contacted Joy’s physician about PKD?

“Like, yeah, Kai, it’s the best—” She clapped a hand over her mouth. “Oh, I’m sorry, Daddy.”

Andrew swiped his forehead. “No, no, Joy. It’s . . . Hey, you tell her.”

Joy’s face glowed. “Mom had a pregnancy test! She’s gonna have a baby! I’m gonna have a brother or a sister!”

Kai’s skin tingled. A new life. What glory—for Gloria! Then puzzle pieces—Gloria’s paleness, haywire emotions, and nausea—interlocked. “How wonderful!” Kai thrust her arm across scattered menus for congratulatory handshakes. “When are you due?”

“November 20.” Gloria had the glow of a new mother. “The sonogram helped pinpoint the date.”

Andrew chuckled. “We survived a tornado and a sonogram in one day.”

Kai murmured excitedly and put away questions of a medical nature. She would not play physician/patient with Gloria, who did not want it and did not need it.

Joy prompted Gloria to share a rambling stairwell story. Kai half listened, entranced by the color in Gloria’s cheeks, the lovely tone of her voice. This new baby might revitalize Gloria and Joy—another miracle!

The waitress approached, order pad in hand. “I heard y’all hollering. Thought I’d better check in.”

“We’re havin’ a baby!” Andrew’s modulated voice had disappeared, as had his worry lines. This man loved his family. Loved Joy. Kai truly rejoiced for him.

“Hey, cool!” Light danced in the young woman’s eyes as she pulled a pen from a shirt pocket. “This calls for a celebration. So what’ll it be?”

Gloria shook her head. “We’ve been so busy gabbing, we haven’t even looked.”

“Should I come back?”

“Nope. We’re shooting the moon on this one—or the cow, I should say.”

Kai swallowed.
Despite your desire, forget vegetarian.

“It’s our treat, Kai.”

“Oh, no.” Though she demurred, Kai was secretly pleased at Andrew’s gesture.

Andrew shook his head. “We insist, you hear?”

“Yeah, Kai,” Joy chimed in.

After an appropriate time of protestation, Kai murmured, “Many thanks.”

Andrew slapped shut his menu. “Whaddya say to T-bones? Man-size!”

Gloria groaned. Not Joy, who said, “Daddy! That’s a great idea. Like the waitress said, let’s celebrate. Have y’all discussed baby names?”

“Um, Joy, it’s a little early for that.”

Kai gave a smile of relief
. Gloria, you have nailed that one.

Despite the chatter, a pit lodged in Kai’s stomach at the thought of digesting a hunk of T-bone, whatever that was, but she’d rather swallow it whole than dim the gaiety. A gaiety that would be dimmed, soon enough, when she unfolded the papers in her bag and set them on this table.