Remember (35 page)

Ashley felt herself relax. She’d done it! She drew a slow breath and finished the prayer. “I ask this in Jesus’ name. Amen.”

She smoothed her fingertips over Laura Jo’s brow. “Do you feel better now, honey?”

Laura Jo gave a single nod of her head, and in a few seconds she was snoring.

Ashley realized she’d been holding her breath, and she finally exhaled, trembling at what had just happened. She had actually prayed out loud!

The prayers she’d been saying on Landon’s behalf had helped her know it was possible. No matter how bad her past, she could initiate conversation with God. But this? These words had obviously come from God himself. What other explanation was there?

Ashley was still overwhelmed by the incident as she drifted from Laura Jo’s room and checked to make sure Belinda was busy in the office. When she heard Belinda talking on the phone, she slipped out the back door and headed for her car. She heaved the saddle from the trunk and carefully removed the sawhorse. It was a bit rickety already, and she didn’t want to break it before getting it to Bert’s room.

The saddle had to weigh twenty pounds by itself, and Ashley set it on the sawhorse. Then she carried the combination up the walk and inside. She was halfway down the hallway toward Bert’s room when Belinda rounded the corner at the other end and stopped short, her eyes wide.

“What . . . are you doing?” She strode the remaining steps that separated them and glared at the saddle and sawhorse. “What is this?”

Think of something,
Ashley told herself. But the only explanation that seemed to make sense was the truth. “Bert was a saddle maker.” Ashley set the sawhorse down in the hallway and met Belinda’s look head-on. “Did you know that?”

Belinda’s hands flew to her hips. “So?” She jerked her head toward the sawhorse and saddle. “What’re you doing with that—that
thing
in the house?”

“Well . . .” Ashley kept her voice calm. Maybe if she didn’t overreact, Belinda wouldn’t either. “I thought I’d set it up in Bert’s room. That way he wouldn’t have to polish the comforter anymore. He could have a saddle to shine . . . like he used to back when he—”

“A saddle? Are you out of your mind?” Belinda’s voice was a study in controlled fury. The woman knew better than to yell and wake a houseful of sleeping Alzheimer’s patients. But she was angrier than Ashley had ever seen her.

“It’s worth a try.” Ashley sighed and leaned on the sawhorse. “What would it hurt?”

Belinda’s face was red. “Bert’s delusional.” She pointed at Ashley. “And so are you.” Her gaze fell to the sawhorse again, but this time she kicked it, knocking it on its side and sending the saddle skittering three feet down the hallway.

“Hey, wait a minute!” Ashley reached for the saddle, but Belinda stepped in the way.

“You’re fired, Baxter. I’ve had all I can take.” She gestured to the saddle and sawhorse. “Get your things, and get out. I’ll call Lu and tell her to cut you your last check. She’ll back me up.”

Ashley felt the blood drain from her face. “Belinda, I think we should talk about this before—”

Belinda raised a hand, cutting her off. “There’s nothing to talk about. Get your things, and go.”

For a moment their eyes met, and Ashley knew it was over. There wasn’t an ounce of give in Belinda, and talking would do no good. Technically, of course, Belinda didn’t have the authority to fire her; that right belonged to Lu. She even thought about going to the office and calling Lu, explaining what had happened. But Lu would be on Belinda’s side. Belinda was the faithful manager, Ashley merely the newly hired help. Besides, Belinda had already complained to the owner about Ashley a dozen times; Lu had said so. The woman would have no choice but to side with Belinda.

Ashley picked up the saddle and stared at her boss. “You’re serious, aren’t you?”

“You bet I’m serious! You don’t just waltz into a place like Sunset Hills and change everything. That’s not how it works.”

Belinda stepped back and surveyed Ashley.

Something about the look in her eyes seemed familiar to Ashley. Suddenly Ashley recognized the same mixture of anger and arrogance she’d seen in Jean-Claude Pierre the last time they saw each other. “But who will take care—”

“I’ll take care of the patients until Krista gets here.” Belinda narrowed her eyes. “You have five minutes to pack your things and leave.”

Ashley’s heart raced as she picked up the saddle and sawhorse and carried both items back to the car. Then she went inside again and gathered her files, the ones she’d made about the residents. She grabbed her purse and coat and found Irvel and Helen and Edith snoring peacefully in their recliners.

Was this really it? She was being forced to leave without even saying good-bye?

In the corner of the room she saw Belinda take up her position, watching her, making sure she did as she was told. Ashley didn’t care. There was something she had to do before she could go.

She walked up to Edith and hugged her, tucking her face alongside the old woman’s and stroking her wiry white hair. “Good-bye, Edith. May God watch over you.”

Then she did the same to Helen and finally, Irvel. “I don’t know how, Irvel, but someday I’ll see you again.” Tears burned a trail down either side of Ashley’s face. “You take care of Hank.”

When she was finished saying good-bye, she slipped on her coat and took one last look around the room. Then, without turning back, she headed to her car. The cold morning stung at her damp cheeks, and she wiped them with the sleeve of her coat. She glanced at the house once more, climbed into her car, and started the engine.

“God, help me.” Now that she’d prayed with Laura Jo, the words came more easily, as though they’d been there all along. Ashley leaned her head on the steering wheel for a moment. “What am I going to do?”

Irvel and Edith and Helen felt like family. How was she supposed to walk out on them now—just when they were starting to make progress? Who would make sure the mirror stayed covered for Edith? And who would encourage Sue to continue her friendship with Helen? Most of all, who would assure Irvel that Hank was coming back?

It was all so unfair.

The tears came harder as Ashley pulled away. It was just as well that Irvel and her friends were asleep. Her tears would have troubled the poor dears. And what would be the point of that?

After today, they wouldn’t remember her anyway.

Chapter Twenty-Eight

The taxi couldn’t go fast enough.

Once Kari landed at La Guardia Airport, it was all she could do to bide her time until she could finally see Ryan. The trip was a surprise, something she’d been planning since the last time they spoke.

Kari had checked the Giants’ schedule. The team had a bye on December 2. She wasn’t sure how much Ryan would be tied up that weekend, but she knew he wasn’t leaving the city. He’d told her that much.

It was four-thirty Thursday afternoon, and Kari figured she’d arrive at Ryan’s apartment first, take him to dinner, and then find a hotel where she could spend the next few nights.

A quiet chuckle eased from her throat as she gazed out the taxi window at the busy streets. Her parents hadn’t believed her when she first brought up the idea.

“Just like that?” Her mother’s mouth had hung open. “You’re going to New York?”

“Right.” Kari had grinned, feeling more alive than she’d felt in weeks. “And I need you to watch Jessie.”

“Where”—Kari’s father swallowed hard—“where will you stay?”

“Dad!” Kari’s face had grown hot. “At a hotel. Of course.”

“Your father and I have decided nothing would surprise us at this point, dear.”

“Besides, I’m a grown woman. I can go to New York if I want to.”

“I know.” Her father had stepped closer and kissed her forehead. “Just be careful. It’s still . . .”

“Soon?”

“Right.” He moved back beside her mother and repeated, “Be careful.”

“Dad, I’ve lived in New York, remember? And I’ve known Ryan forever.” She looked at her mother. “In all my life, I’ve never acted on my feelings for him. Until now.”

Her mother looked alarmed. “What exactly are you planning?”

“A visit.” Kari spread her hands in front of her. “Nothing more. Just a way of letting him know he’s still in my heart.”

“He is, isn’t he?” Her father’s frown faded.

“Yes.” Kari’s voice had grown soft. “I think about him all the time.”

“Then go.” Her mother smiled, the concern gone from her expression. “If September eleventh taught us anything, it was that life is short. If you care about Ryan, tell him. And let God take it from there.”

The taxi was closer now, moving through the heart of the city. Kari peered out the window, mentally comparing what she saw with what she remembered from her modeling days. They passed barricaded streets and boarded-up windows. American flags flew in countless storefronts, along sides of buildings, and from nearly every car and cab in the area. Maybe it was her imagination, but she seemed to see a difference in the eyes of the people teeming along either side of the street. A depth of loss and camaraderie Kari hadn’t seen before.

The effect sent a chill down her spine and brought goose bumps to her arms and legs.

“How many more miles?” She leaned forward so the driver could hear her.

“Five or six.”

“Thanks.” It was then that she noticed two photographs taped to the driver’s dashboard. One was of a police officer, the other of a woman in a uniform of some kind. Both looked uncannily like the driver.

Kari hesitated but couldn’t help herself. She pointed at the pictures. “Are they family?”

“My son and my sister. Haven’t found either of ’em.”

“I’m . . . I’m sorry.” Kari felt her heart settle several inches deeper in her chest. Why had she asked, anyway? The tragedy that had happened here wasn’t merely a spectacle to be gazed at. It was real life, affecting real people—people like this cabdriver, who would never see his loved ones again.

The chill was gone. In its place a sobering reality surrounded her. She’d be more careful with her questions next time.

Her thoughts turned to Ryan once more, and she glanced at her hand. She’d taken her wedding ring off and placed it in a velvet box she kept in the bottom drawer of her bedroom dresser. It was time . . . and one day little Jessie might want it.

Kari glanced at the ticking meter. Five more miles. How would it feel to be with him again? The two of them had gone through so many seasons in life, so many highs and lows. Of course she needed to go to him now. She loved him, and there wasn’t a thing she could do about it. Maybe it
was
too early. But every time she prayed about the situation, she came away feeling the same. Now that the fog of Tim’s death was beginning to clear, now that she’d spent time healing, now that she’d studied and prayed and searched her heart . . . the truth was both simple and obvious.

Ryan Taylor was everything to her. And she needed to let him know.

The maze of streets seemed to go on forever, but finally the driver pulled up outside an apartment complex. A doorman stood guard at the front.

“This is it.” The driver nodded to the meter. “I prefer cash if you got it.”

Kari doled out the amount along with a healthy tip. “I hope they find them. Your son and your sister.”

The man nodded but said nothing. As Kari climbed out and grabbed her bag, she saw him wipe a tear. She stood next to her suitcase on the curb and watched the taxi pull away.
Help him, God. Bring him peace, please.

There was no still small voice above the roar of the city. But God had heard her—that was the important thing. And she’d learned something from the cabdriver: being in New York City was going to be harder than she’d thought.

She turned to the doorman. “I’m here to see a friend of mine.”

“His name?” The man’s posture was stiff, but there was compassion in his tone.

“Ryan Taylor.”

“Is he expecting you?”

“No.” Butterflies swarmed in Kari’s gut. “Can I go up anyway?”

The man showed a hint of a smile. “I need to ring him first.” He turned to a panel of buttons and picked up a telephone receiver. Kari couldn’t hear any part of the conversation.

After a few seconds, the man turned to her. “Go ahead.” He told her the apartment number and turned a key that opened a door to the lobby.

Kari wheeled her bag through the double doors and toward the bank of elevators. Suddenly she felt nervous, the same old doubts crowding back into her mind. What if he wasn’t glad to see her? What if his feelings for her had changed months ago, back when she had been so desperate to work things out with Tim? Maybe he would think her presumptuous for showing up unannounced.

No, that wasn’t possible. He’d asked her to come, after all. And now she was here.

The elevator rode smoothly to the twelfth floor. Her knees knocked as she made her way down the hallway to the appropriate apartment. For the briefest moment she thought about turning back. When it came to Ryan, she’d never done anything this crazy before.

She knocked on the door. It was too late to turn back now.

The door opened, and there he was. Ryan Taylor, his eyes wide, mouth open. Every one of Kari’s doubts dissipated like fog on a summer day. “Kari . . . I thought . . . when the doorman said a woman was . . . I mean, I figured it was a mistake. Where—how did you . . . ?”

“Ryan.” She let go of her bag and moved into his arms, savoring the feel of his body against hers, breathing in the reality of him. “I can’t believe I’m here.” Her voice fell to a whisper, choked by the joy of seeing him again, of being with him. “I couldn’t stay away another minute.”

He held her tight. “You came.” The words were drenched in longing, the same longing she’d heard so often in his voice when they’d spoken on the phone, even when she’d done everything in her power not to think of him. The moment he spoke the words, she knew.

He had not moved on with life. It was the sort of detail she couldn’t possibly have known without being here, seeing him in person, feeling his arms around her.

No matter that nearly seven months had passed since they’d been together or that the weekend would end soon enough. The feeling was the same as it had been the first time he held her. The same as it had always been, with one difference.