Read Online Save the Last Dance by Roxanne Rustand - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Roxanne Rustand
Ads: Link
come in.”
Sylvia sniffed. “I’m sure you didn’t.”
Though the woman had clearly taken the farthest possible seat on purpose, Kate moved across the room to sit opposite her, scooted a chair closer and reached out to take Sylvia’s cold, bony hands between her own.
The woman had always been New-York-model thin, but as she aged, it hadn’t served her well. Her skin held a yellowed, waxy pallor and the dark circles under her eyes emphasized her deeply lined face. “You must be absolutely exhausted.”
“There was no question, of course. I had to gethere. The nurse in the E.R. said she’d notify surgery that I’d arrived and send someone out with a report. Have you seen anyone?”
“Not for more than an hour. But the last report…” Kate hesitated over just how much to say. “Well, it wasn’t very promising. Jared is strong and healthy, and he’s a fighter. But his injuries are serious.”
Sylvia pulled her hands away and lifted her chin. “He’ll make it. The Matherses don’t give in.”
“I’m praying that’s true,” Kate said gently. Twenty years of marriage to Jared had never brought companionship, not even acceptance, from his mother, and Kate didn’t expect it now. But she knew the stony expression in the woman’s eyes hid a great deal of pain that Sylvia had never shared. “He has a lot of people to live for—people who love him. I have to think that it will make a difference.”
“Love?” Sylvia’s voice sounded like the crack of a whip in the tomblike silence of the hospital. “Don’t crow too loudly, my dear. If he loved you so very much, why would he have been driven into the arms of someone else?”
Kate jerked back in her chair, stunned.
“I heard your conversation when I walked in. You might’ve snared him all those years ago, butit was wrong then, and it’s still wrong.” Stress and exhaustion and years of simmering dislike seemed to take hold of her, and Sylvia leaned forward, her hands clamped on the arms of her chair and her voice rising. “My son wouldn’t be on that surgery table if not for you.”
Her thinking was beyond illogical, but there was no point in arguing. Kate silently withdrew to another seat several chairs away.
“You know it’s true,” Sylvia added in a low, vicious tone. “All the hopes and dreams he had, his bright future, were lost when he was too young to even realize what he was giving up.”
The kernel of truth in her words helped Kate bite her tongue when she wanted to refute every word, but none of this was new. Critical, cold and relentless, Sylvia had found endless ways to drive home subtle barbs over the years about their marriage. Her advancing age had only sharpened her tongue…but she’d always been crafty enough to guard what she said within her son’s hearing.
At the sound of rattling wheels—gurney wheels?—Kate shot to her feet, a hand over her heart.
A cleaning woman wearily trudged down the hall, pushing a cart of supplies.
Five endless minutes later, the double doors tosurgery swung open, bathing the hall in blinding light. The surgeon stepped forward, his face haggard beneath his five o’clock shadow, the surgical mask hanging in front of his neck.
Kate’s heart skipped a beat, stumbled, then started pounding as her anxiety grew. He seemed to be walking toward her in ultraslow motion, while she couldn’t will herself to move a single step toward the news that might change her life forever.
Then time stopped as numbness swept through her. “Is he…Is he…”
The words couldn’t get past the lump in her throat.
Dr. Jacobs reached out to take her hand. “Honestly, I had my doubts, but he’s still with us. He coded several times. We had trouble bringing him back the last time. The next twenty-four hours are going to be critical.”
She swallowed hard, dimly aware that Sylvia had come to stand next to her, her back ramrod straight in preparation for the worst possible news.
“Critical.” Sylvia
Sylvia sniffed. “I’m sure you didn’t.”
Though the woman had clearly taken the farthest possible seat on purpose, Kate moved across the room to sit opposite her, scooted a chair closer and reached out to take Sylvia’s cold, bony hands between her own.
The woman had always been New-York-model thin, but as she aged, it hadn’t served her well. Her skin held a yellowed, waxy pallor and the dark circles under her eyes emphasized her deeply lined face. “You must be absolutely exhausted.”
“There was no question, of course. I had to gethere. The nurse in the E.R. said she’d notify surgery that I’d arrived and send someone out with a report. Have you seen anyone?”
“Not for more than an hour. But the last report…” Kate hesitated over just how much to say. “Well, it wasn’t very promising. Jared is strong and healthy, and he’s a fighter. But his injuries are serious.”
Sylvia pulled her hands away and lifted her chin. “He’ll make it. The Matherses don’t give in.”
“I’m praying that’s true,” Kate said gently. Twenty years of marriage to Jared had never brought companionship, not even acceptance, from his mother, and Kate didn’t expect it now. But she knew the stony expression in the woman’s eyes hid a great deal of pain that Sylvia had never shared. “He has a lot of people to live for—people who love him. I have to think that it will make a difference.”
“Love?” Sylvia’s voice sounded like the crack of a whip in the tomblike silence of the hospital. “Don’t crow too loudly, my dear. If he loved you so very much, why would he have been driven into the arms of someone else?”
Kate jerked back in her chair, stunned.
“I heard your conversation when I walked in. You might’ve snared him all those years ago, butit was wrong then, and it’s still wrong.” Stress and exhaustion and years of simmering dislike seemed to take hold of her, and Sylvia leaned forward, her hands clamped on the arms of her chair and her voice rising. “My son wouldn’t be on that surgery table if not for you.”
Her thinking was beyond illogical, but there was no point in arguing. Kate silently withdrew to another seat several chairs away.
“You know it’s true,” Sylvia added in a low, vicious tone. “All the hopes and dreams he had, his bright future, were lost when he was too young to even realize what he was giving up.”
The kernel of truth in her words helped Kate bite her tongue when she wanted to refute every word, but none of this was new. Critical, cold and relentless, Sylvia had found endless ways to drive home subtle barbs over the years about their marriage. Her advancing age had only sharpened her tongue…but she’d always been crafty enough to guard what she said within her son’s hearing.
At the sound of rattling wheels—gurney wheels?—Kate shot to her feet, a hand over her heart.
A cleaning woman wearily trudged down the hall, pushing a cart of supplies.
Five endless minutes later, the double doors tosurgery swung open, bathing the hall in blinding light. The surgeon stepped forward, his face haggard beneath his five o’clock shadow, the surgical mask hanging in front of his neck.
Kate’s heart skipped a beat, stumbled, then started pounding as her anxiety grew. He seemed to be walking toward her in ultraslow motion, while she couldn’t will herself to move a single step toward the news that might change her life forever.
Then time stopped as numbness swept through her. “Is he…Is he…”
The words couldn’t get past the lump in her throat.
Dr. Jacobs reached out to take her hand. “Honestly, I had my doubts, but he’s still with us. He coded several times. We had trouble bringing him back the last time. The next twenty-four hours are going to be critical.”
She swallowed hard, dimly aware that Sylvia had come to stand next to her, her back ramrod straight in preparation for the worst possible news.
“Critical.” Sylvia
Similar Books
