After the Loving. Gwynne Forster

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      He closed his eyes in an effort to blot out his surroundings and tried to think of his next project, but he failed. He sensed that Velma stood up abruptly and opened his eyes to see the nurse approaching, her face brilliant with a smile. He rushed to meet the woman.

      “Is she…? How is she?”

      “She’s fine, but we want her to rest a couple of hours before you take her home.”

      “You’re sure? You’re sure she’s all right?” he asked her.

      “Absolutely. You got her here in good time, so there won’t be any permanent damage, but there certainly could have been. She said she thought she spit it out when she realized it wasn’t chocolate, but she swallowed enough of it to make her very sick. If you want something to eat or drink, there’s a cafeteria on the first level down. Take the elevator.”

      “Can we go in and see her?” he asked. “Just for a second?”

      “I’d rather not. It’s important that she rest. Are you Mr. Russ?”

      “Yes. I’m Russ Harrington, and this is Velma Brighton, Tara’s aunt.”

      “I’m glad to meet you. I’m Nurse Parker. She said to tell you she’s not sick. She’ll be out in two hours.”

      “Two hours to…well, at least she’ll be all right,” he said to Velma. “Let’s go downstairs and get something to eat.” They got on the elevator and went to the cafeteria. He chose a hamburger, french fries and salad. He put it on the table and stared at it.

      “What’s wrong?” Velma asked him.

      He ran his fingers through his silky curls and then rubbed the back of his neck. “I must be losing it. I don’t eat junk like this.”

      “This chicken fried steak is pretty good, want a sample?”

      He tasted it. “Not bad.” He dumped his tray of food into the trash bin and returned with the steak, mashed potatoes and a container of milk.

      “After we finish, I want to go upstairs and see my uncle. He’s terminally ill, and my brothers and I are his only visitors. I’d like you to come with me, if you don’t mind.”

      “I don’t mind. I’ll be glad to go with you.”

      He found Fentress Sparkman propped up in bed reading the Bible that Russ had given him as a present the previous Christmas.

      “How are you feeling, sir?”

      “Some days, I feel pretty good, some not. I’m glad to see you. Telford sent me an invitation to his wedding. Did he marry a woman you like?”

      “Yes, indeed, and he’s on his honeymoon right now. This is Velma Brighton. Velma, my uncle, Fentress Sparkman.”

      Sparkman nodded his head. “Glad to meet you.” He patted the Bible. “It was good of you to give me this, Russ. I read it all the time. You and your brothers have made my last days happy ones.”

      Russ grasped the frail hand that reached out to him. “It’s too bad we couldn’t have had a normal relationship all along, sir. I’ll be back to see you as soon as I can.”

      “Don’t make it too long. Thanks for coming and bringing your friend.”

      They told him goodbye and went back to the waiting room. Almost as soon as they sat down, he heard himself telling her the story of his uncle and his father. “I don’t know why I’m telling you this,” he said, “except maybe because it still surprises me, makes me wonder. That story had a strong effect on me—I pay careful attention to the way I treat people. A stranger, even an enemy, could be a close relative.”

      He got up and walked toward the door leading to patient care. “What’s holding them?” He walked back to Velma. “All I have is that nurse’s word.”

      Velma walked over to where he stood strung out with anxiety. “She’s a professional, Russ, and she deals with patients’ families all the time. She wouldn’t mislead us.”

      He slapped his left fist in his right palm. “You’re right, I know, but it’s taking so long. How could she be so weak that she needs to rest for two whole hours?” He remembered to call Henry who he knew was worried about Tara and anxious for her well-being.

      “How is she?” Henry asked as he lifted the receiver.

      He told Henry as much as he knew. “It appears that she’ll be as good as new. I just didn’t want you to worry more.”

      “Worry more? I never been so upset in me life. Thanks for letting me know.”

      As Russ hung up, the door swung open, and the nurse wheeled Tara through it in a wheelchair. “Mr. Russ! Aunt Velma! They put a tube down my throat, they gave me this big bunny and these balloons, and when I get big, I’m going to play the piano for them.”

      He raced to the wheelchair, stopped and stared at the nurse. “Can’t she walk?”

      “Yes, but we always release patients this way.”

      “Do you have a clerk or someone who I can pay?” he asked her.

      “Fill out this form, and we’ll send you a bill. After you do that, she may go.”

      He thanked the nurse, filled out the forms and lifted Tara from the wheelchair. He looked the child in the eyes. “If you ever give me another scare like this one, I’m going to tweak your nose.” Her giggles filled his heart with such happiness that he couldn’t help hugging her as he walked to his car with her in his arms and Velma holding his hand.

      As he drove home, the thought occurred to him time and again that he’d learned much about himself in the last five days, all of it important and some of it life-changing.

      After supper, when they had finally tucked the excited little girl in bed, he sat with Velma and Henry in the den musing over what he considered his odd behavior.

      “Henry, I had planned to work on a project we have in Philadelphia, but what happened with Tara suggests to me that I ought to work here at home until Telford gets back. Drake can’t stay home. He has to leave for Barbados tomorrow.”

      “Well, I ain’t what I used to be, and I haven’t driven a car in years, but Velma here can drive. You don’t have to change yer plans. We can manage.”

      “I know I can count on you, Henry, and that you care as much for our home as I do. After all, it’s your home. But my mind tells me to stay here, and I don’t mind doing it. My computer and my brain are about all I need in order to work.”

      Around ten in the morning, two days later, he looked up from his draft board and glanced at his bedroom window just as a silver-gray Lincoln Town Car turned into the circle that graced the front of Harrington House. A familiar car. He got up, went downstairs and opened the door at the first peal of the doorbell.

      Jack Stevenson. “What can I do for you, man?” he asked Jack.

      “I want to see Alexis.” He started past Russ, but СКАЧАТЬ