And Grandma Nancy would be sound asleep by now.
She even considered calling Evelyn or Francine, but it was ridiculously late.
Nor was it the time—night or day—to tell her father since their conversations remained strained.
The only one she could call was Rex. Maybe he was well enough now to hear the news. Maybe it would provide him with added motivation to step up PT, OT, and whatever other kind of rehab he was getting. Maybe it would give him the perfect reason to get well and come home.
Sooner or later—sooner would be better—she’d have to take the chance.
She glanced at the clock again: twelve fifteen. Which meant it was only nine fifteen in Los Angeles—and maybe he’d still be awake. Before changing her mind, she got out of bed, put on her robe, and picked up her phone. Then she sat on the floor, huddled against the bed on the side where anyone witha yen to eavesdrop would not succeed. There had been enough eavesdropping lately.
Without second-guessing, she scrolled to Rex’s number and hit send.
It rang once, twice, three times.
Her heart thumped faster as his phone kept ringing.
But just as she was ready to hang up, someone clicked on.
“Hello?”
It wasn’t Rex.
It was a woman.
“Beth?” Maddie asked, pleased that she’d remembered the nurse’s name.
“I think you have the wrong number. Who do you want?”
“Um … Rex?” She had no idea why she’d said his name as if it was a question. What she really wanted was to end the call.
“I’m sorry,” came the reply, “but Rex is sleeping. Do you want to leave a message?” It must be one of his caregivers, clearly determined to protect her charge.
Oh, sure, Maddie thought.Say Maddie called to tell him that she’s pregnant with his baby. That wasn’t going to happen.
“Please tell him I’m thinking of him and wondering how he’s doing.”
“He’s sleeping,” the woman repeated. “But I’ll pass on the message.” After a quick pause, the woman said, “Wait. Is this Maddie?”
For half a second, Maddie was thrilled to think he’d told everyone in Southern California about her. About them.
“I didn’t look when I grabbed his phone, but I now see ‘Maddie’ on caller ID,” the woman added, and Maddie closed her eyes.
“Yes, I’m Maddie,” she replied. “And you are …?”
“It’s Annie, Maddie. Annie Sutton, Rex’s friend.”
For all Maddie knew, she might have thrown up then or said something really stupid. Later she was only sure that she did not mention the baby. The rest was a stupid, jealous blur.
Somehow, Maddie slept straight through until eight the next morning, yet she woke up exhausted. Physically, emotionally, the whole ball of wax. On top of that, she was cold.
Hauling herself from bed, she headed for the steady warmth of the rainfall shower, where she scrubbed herself from head to toe, washed her hair, shaved her legs. She was determined to have a great day. Then the shower ran out of hot water.
After bundling up in a thick sweater and knit pants that stretched over her belly, she donned wool socks and slid her feet into fuzzy slippers.
First, she’d make a mug of steaming tea. Goldenrod, caffeine-free tea. Foraged up-island, cleaned and dried—all by Grandma Nancy. Then Maddie would walk down to the bookshop where Kevin might be, and together they could choose which paint colors should go where, and she’d be done with that.
But half trotting down the hallway, eager to get going, her grand plan quickly changed. Grandma was sitting at the table, a mug of tea in one hand, a pencil in the other, her shoulders bowed over a sudoku magazine that Rafe had given her for Christmas.
