The Secrets of Her Past. Emilie Rose
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to think about except your misery, you searched for any distraction.
“He’s at the end of the hall.” Adam’s long stride carried him away.
Her mouth dried. It wasn’t the same floor, but the layout was identical. Different paint and tile colors didn’t change the memories or the emotions this place evoked. She didn’t want to be here, but she would get through it the same way she’d gotten through everything else life had thrown at her—by treating each difficult moment like the Iditarod, gritting her teeth and soldiering on step after step, mile after mile. The sooner she did this, the sooner Adam would take her home. No, not home—his house. Back to that shrine to Andrew. But even that was better than here.
She ordered her feet forward, then stopped outside the room, where Adam guarded the entrance. Through the open door she spotted Helen in the recliner by the bed. Her former mother-in-law hadn’t noticed their arrival. She had her head bent over her wringing hands. Her shoulders drooped and lines creased her forehead. Worry had robbed her face of all color, save the shadows as dark as bruises beneath her eyes. Sympathy clutched Madison’s insides.
Adam tapped on the door and Helen’s head snapped up. She bolted to her feet, pasted on a forged smile for her son, then her gaze, filled with a cocktail of anger and loathing, focused on Madison.
“Good. You’re here.” Her cold tone held no welcome. Bitterness twisted her lips. “I need a breath of fresh air.”
She barged past them. Only then did Madison look at the patient. A chest tube and a catheter drained into containers hanging from the bed. Dann—Dr. Dra— Who was she kidding? She couldn’t keep her distance. Not when she’d been walking in his footsteps and handling his patients and instruments all day. She’d lost count of the number of clients who’d asked about him.
Danny’s face was nearly as ashen as Helen’s. His eyes were sunken and closed, his lips pale and dry.
Adam touched his shoulder. “Dad, Madison’s here.”
Danny’s lids flickered open, revealing a blue-green gaze so like Adam’s, but the irises looked faded and his gaze unfocused. “How’s my girl? I’ve been waiting for you.”
His weak voice tugged at something deep inside her. She’d never had a chance to say goodbye to her father. Was she saying goodbye to Danny now? No. He’d only been out of surgery a few hours. He’d be back to his old self soon. She had to believe that.
The hand he lifted from the bed trembled. Madison tried to harden her heart, to block out the worry, but she couldn’t. She did, however, ignore that hand. Say your piece and get out.
“We had a smooth day at the office. Your staff is wonderful. That’s why I can’t believe—”
He coughed and winced. The words died on her tongue. How could she condemn and interrogate him when he was in pain and still hung over from anesthesia?
She couldn’t. Her questions could wait until next week. “I can’t believe how efficient they are.”
Adam’s hard face relaxed slightly.
“They know...how I like...things done. You do, too. Well trained. Like you.” His struggle for breath between words made Madison uncomfortable. The hand tethered to the blood oxygen meter gingerly covered his rib.
“They definitely know your methods.”
“Dad, you need to rest.” Adam pulled out his wallet and offered Madison some folded money. “Take Mom down to the cafeteria.”
Appalled at the idea of one-on-one time with Helen, she tucked her hands behind her back. “I’m not hungry.”
He caught her left wrist, pressed the money into her palm and folded her fingers around it. His hands were warm, slightly rough, inarguably firm, but not hurtful. Her senses rioted.
“Please, Madison. She hasn’t left his side all day, and she insists on staying here tonight. She needs a break. See that she takes it.”
When he put it that way, how could she refuse?
* * *
HELEN LEANED AGAINST the wall by the nurses’ station, staring into the black sludge they called coffee. If she had the energy she’d teach them how to make it correctly, but every nerve in her body was raw and each muscle was so exhausted from fear and worry she wanted to crumple to the floor and cry. But, of course, she wouldn’t.
Desperately needing the caffeine and the sugar she’d liberally poured into the cup, she forced herself to sip the vile brew. She had to be strong for Danny. She couldn’t lose him. He was her life, and she’d do anything—even tolerate the woman who’d killed her son and grandchild—if it helped him beat this cancer.
But enduring Madison’s presence wasn’t easy. Every time Helen looked at her former daughter-in-law the agony started anew. She remembered the conversation she’d had with Andrew when he’d confessed Madison was making him look bad at the office and the glint in his eyes a few months later when they’d announced the surprise pregnancy.
What had Andrew done? Had he taken her motherly advice the wrong way? And had the car accident been partly her fault?
No. Madison had been driving. Andrew’s and little Daniel’s deaths were Madison’s fault. She had to believe that. She had to or she’d lose her mind.
How could Danny “forgive and move on” so easily? Madison had told the police officer that she and Andrew had been arguing at the time of the crash, and she’d admitted to taking her eyes off the road. If that didn’t make her guilty, then what did?
But Danny refused to listen. It was as if he’d closed the door on Andrew the day they’d walked away from his lifeless body here at this hospital. He refused to talk about their loss and got mad at her if she tried to. If not for the fact that he kept their son’s office exactly as Andrew had left it, she’d think Danny had forgotten Andrew had ever existed. But now she was beginning to suspect he’d kept the office waiting for Madison’s return.
“When Madison comes home...” had become a hated chorus in their house. Danny yammered about her as if she was a saint who could do no wrong, the resurrection of all their hopes and dreams, one who would make their lives whole again. But their lives would never be the same—not without Andrew. You’d think Danny would realize that. Madison had made her lack of appreciation for all they’d done for her clear at every turn.
“Mom.”
She straightened at the sound of Adam’s voice and smoothed her expression as best she could before facing him. She didn’t want him to worry and wouldn’t let him know she clung to the cliff of her breaking point with splitting fingernails.
“Please show Madison where the cafeteria is located.”
She flinched, sloshing the swill in her cup. He wanted her to take care of his brother’s killer? It seemed like betrayal that he, too, expected her to forget Madison’s part in ruining their lives. “It’s in the basement and easy to find. There are signs to mark the way,” she said to Adam, ignoring Madison, who stood behind him.
“I don’t have time to look for her if she gets lost, Mom. Just make sure she gets there and gets back, and grab something for yourself while you’re there. You haven’t eaten today.”
She stared into her son’s implacable face. What he asked wasn’t fair. It wasn’t right. But he could be as hardheaded as his father sometimes, and she couldn’t afford to offend Adam. If anything happened to Danny, Adam was all she had left.
The panicked sensation began to swell again, making it difficult to draw a breath. She punched her anxiety like rising dough, then dropped the almost full cup into the trash can and headed for the elevators. Madison fell into step beside her. Helen said nothing. Her grandmother had taught her that if she didn’t have anything nice to say she shouldn’t speak at all.
The wound Madison had inflicted was too deep to heal. Helen had never hated anyone in her life.