The Clone's Mother Page 18

  Just as I started to suggest we blow the joint and go get to know each other better, Jackie’s voice squeezed in between us.

  “Jim, Jim!”

  Maybe Mrs. Ellsworth had keeled over or something.

  Mack and I both looked at Jackie to find out what was so urgent.

  “Jim, your dessert’s arrived. You’ll be disappointed if the ganache melts and makes your torte soggy.”

  What a nuisance. She couldn’t let his attention stray for a second.

  “Jackie—” I started to say, but she cut me off.

  “It’s delicious, Jim. Here, try it.” She took a corner of the chocolate-covered layered cake and offered it to Mack with her fork.

  “I’ll do it, Jackie.” He nudged her hand away, refusing the bite on her utensil. His voice lacked the usual patience he had for her.

  He turned to me with a weak smile. I tried to encourage him with an understanding nod.

  He pushed his plate toward me. “Would you like to have mine? I’m full.”

  He obviously didn’t know me very well, asking me that question. I flipped my eyebrows up in a seductive flick and pulled the plate in front of me, licking my lips. He put his arm over the back of my chair again and I sensually consumed both his and my scrumptious desserts. He smiled, watching me lick up every speck of chocolate on the plate.

  He whispered so quietly, I had to strain to hear. “I like to watch you eat chocolate.” He flipped his eyebrows back at me, but slow and heavy, like he was on drugs. Love drugs.

  The rest of the table was invisible to me. I swiped up the very last drip of chocolate with my finger and gave it to him like I imagined Penélope Cruz would do.

  A fleck of chocolate stuck to his lip, so I leaned in close and kissed it off.

  “Let’s get outta here,” he whispered.

  “Jim,” Jackie broke in again.

  “What?” Mack said, sharp and quick.

  “I was just going to ask if Kate would help me to the ladies room.” She said it like she was an innocent. A helpless one. And she was hurt that Mack would even consider snapping at her. “The room’s too crowded for me to push through myself.”

  Poor Mack. I felt like he needed rescuing.

  “Sure, Jackie,” I said with feigned warmth. “Let’s go.”

  The wheelchair fit easily between the tables, now that everyone was up dancing. She apparently needed help only when it suited her wiles to interrupt. Or tighten her strangulating grip around her brother.

  I held the door to the bathroom open and Jackie wheeled in and headed for the large stall on the end. Lucy from the hospital was in the sink area, handing out cloth towels to the ladies when they finished washing their hands.

  “Hi, Lucy. What are you doing here? Moonlighting?”

  She gave me her lovely full smile. “Hey, lady. Working by the light of the moon. We were offered a chance to help out here tonight for extra pocket money. I couldn’t pass that up, now could I?”

  “No, siree,” I said.

  “You look lovely. Just lovely. Are you here with that handsome doctor boyfriend of yours?”

  I checked myself from motioning her to silence in case Jackie overheard. I realized I felt as if I were claiming something for myself that belonged to her, as if I were the other woman. I pressed my hands against my thighs to keep them under control then answered.

  “I am.”

  “You couldn’t look lovelier,” she said. “I see his sister is tagging along with you two tonight.” She pointed toward the stall.

  I should have known she knew what was going on. “You know Jim Mackenzie’s sister?” I said, trying to sound casual.

  “Nope.” She smiled again, a mischievous grin. “Sheila Langley was in earlier. She got a mouth on her, that girl does. Told all about your little dinner party out there. Phooey, lady. Glad I’m in here with all those goin’s on out there.”

  “There have been moments I wish I had been in here with you too.”

  “Kate. Kate, come over here,” Jackie called from inside her stall. “Go get Jim and tell him he needs to take me home.”

  I was dumbstruck. “What for?”

  “Is it really any of your business?” she snapped.

  “I think it is, since this will affect me too. Believe it or not, Jackie, I am here with Jim.” I tried to stand up for myself. Lucy gave me a thumbs-up.

  Jackie was better at this than I, though.

  “It won’t affect you at all. You can just find a ride with someone else. You won’t have to leave early or miss anything. Now quit making me talk through the bathroom door and go get Jim. Tell him to meet me in the lobby.”

  “Not until you tell me why.” I was learning. My heels were digging in.

  There was a silent pause, then some rustling and the acrid odor of concentrated urine wafted up from a puddle forming on the floor next to the stall door.

  “You can tell him all that dancing knocked my leg bag loose and it has leaked on my dress. I need to go home and change. Go tell him. Now.”

  I looked at Lucy, who watched from her cart of stacked clean towels. She closed her eyes and shook her head, saying, “Hmm, hmm, hmm.”

  “I’ll be back,” I said. I shrugged to Lucy, not certain I had any other choice, and went out to find Mack.

  Still at the table, he sat waiting with his fingers steepled in front of him, staring straight ahead. Scott sat a couple of chairs away still working on dessert—it looked to be Mrs. Ellworth’s plate—and everyone else was on the dance floor.

  Mack looked up and his warm smile washed away the lousy feelings Jackie had churned up. I was eager to feel his arms around me again. He reached up and pulled me onto his lap, then gave me a soft, quick kiss.

  “Ready to go? Where’s Jackie?”

  “Still in the bathroom.”

  “How about we take her home and then go to your place?”

  “I’d love that. She sent me here to tell you she needs to go home. Her leg bag apparently leaked.”

  “Great. I mean, I don’t mean great, it leaked. Great, we can go.”

  “I know. I’m ready.”

  A bellhop came up and handed Mack a note. I slipped off his lap and sat in my own chair.

  “From the lady in your party. She’s out in the lobby awaiting a reply.”

  Mack read the note. His face darkened and his brow crumpled up. He rubbed his palm over his face then pulled a bill from his pocket and handed it to the bellhop. “Thanks. No reply. I’ll take care of this myself.”

  Mack crumpled the note and threw it on the table.

  “Kate, I’m sorry, but it seems Jackie is in one of her moods. She does this whenever she thinks she’s going to lose me. I need to talk to her and work this out. Do you mind terribly if I leave you alone a minute?”

  “No, go ahead.” Hearing the regret in his voice, I really didn’t mind. “I don’t mind waiting.”

  “Thanks.” He gave me another slow, soft kiss before taking a deep breath and heading for the lobby.

  After thirty minutes, I wanted to go see what was taking so long. Sheila and Carl were back at the table sipping drinks, Scott was long gone from our uneventful table, and the Ellsworths were mingling with people more like themselves.

  As I sat contemplating whether or not I should give Mack five more minutes or go searching for him immediately, Carl’s cell phone rang. He answered, talking in cryptic monosyllables.

  I decided to sneak a peek at the crumpled note from Jackie. Though I felt like an unprincipled snoop, I couldn’t help myself.

  It said: Jim, we’re going home. Kate has been so rude to me, I can’t even come to the table and face her. Just take me home and you can come back later.

  “Ms. Johnston, phone. Ms. Johnston, Jim wants to talk to you.”

  Carl’s voice broke through my shock and anger. He was extending his cell phone toward me. Jim? I was confused. And must have looked it.

  “Kate,” Sheila snapped. “Phone. Take the phone.”


  Though baffled, I finally just took the phone.

  “Why’s he calling her on your phone?” she asked Carl. “You don’t even have your own phone?” she asked me incredulously.

  I ignored her. “Hello?”

  “Kate, I’m so sorry.”

  “Mack? Where are you?”

  “At Jackie’s. You wouldn’t believe the scene she made at the hotel. I didn’t even have a chance to come tell you.”

  “Oh.”

  “I thought I’d just get her settled at home then come right back.”

  “I guess this means you didn’t.”

  “I’m sorry, Bright Eyes. Once she calmed down, one of her pain attacks came on. Her back goes into spasms and she needs me to massage them out. It’s truly painful for her.”

  “When you’re done, you’ll come get me, right?”

  “She’s very depressed, Kate. I don’t like to leave her when she gets like this. I really better stay with her.”

  I was silent. What could I say?

  “I asked Carl to give you a ride home.”

  “I can get a cab. Or bus. Or walk.”

  “No. Let Carl take you. I’m really sorry. I’ll make it up to you. I really wanted to be with you tonight.”

  Yeah, right.

  “Don’t worry about me. I’ll be fine.”

  “Kate—”

  “Bye.” I hung up.

  Chapter 29

  “So we’re giving you a ride home,” Sheila said with disgust. “No phone, no car? Lost your date too? God, that’s pathetic.”

  “Don’t worry, Sheila. I won’t intrude. I’ll find my own way home.”

  “Suit yourself.”

  Carl watched us in silence. I think he appreciated the way we women were working it out for him. Easier that way.

  “Have a good night.” I grabbed my miniature sequin purse, hoping I had enough change inside it for bus fare since my CTA pass was at home (because why would I have even thought I’d need it?) and I tried to exit with dignity and grace.

  I only bumped into one chair on the way out.

  The city bus stop just happened to be right on the corner across from the front entrance of the hotel. It was humiliating waiting on the bench while some of the other dinner guests pulled away in their BMWs or Lexuses. But my feet hurt too much to walk farther down the street to the next stop, not to mention I was afraid of the dark and being out alone. I did not want to go down into the subway. That hadn’t bothered me for a long time, but after what happened to Howard, I didn’t want to do it.

  So in my fancy get-up and black shiny pumps, I sat on the splintery bench and waited for the next bus.

  And waited.

  While I watched down the street for any sign of an oncoming bus, I pried off my shoes and rubbed my aching feet. I tried not to snag my dress on the rough bench. Then a convertible with subwoofers that compressed my skirt against my legs rolled to a stop in front of the bus stop.

  “Want a ride?” Scott bobbed to the rhythm pulsating out of his high fidelity system.

  The shadows made him creepy.

  “The bus will be here any second. I like to ride the bus. It’s good to support the system too, you know.” I was rambling. I should’ve shut up. But now that we were alone, in the dark, he made me nervous with that weird voice and his bedroom eyes.

  “Whatever.” The eye roll he gave me did nothing to bolster my mood. He squealed away like that would impress someone. Good thing I’d declined. I didn’t need some humiliating skirmish with a jerk who thought I’d owe him a visit upstairs if he gave me a lift.

  Almost an hour after planting it on the bench, I was still waiting for the bus. Guess not enough people from the ritzy hotel used this line. And I didn’t have enough money to get a cab. The tightness in my throat crept up to my eyes and made them want to cry. But I swallowed and tightened my lips together to keep the tears in.

  I put my shoes back on and limped my way to the hotel entrance. Carl and Sheila emerged through the automatic door. I ducked. Carl handed his ticket to the valet to get his car. Sheila laughed at some private joke they shared.

  I spun and ducked low and tried to go back in through a different door.

  “Kate, what are you still doing here?”

  I struggled not to burst into tears. The humiliation would kill me. I couldn’t answer without caving. So I shrugged like a mute child. And even with only that, my lip quivered enough for Sheila to see. It was only a matter of seconds and she’d annihilate me. And take pure pleasure in it, I was certain.

  “Do you want a ride after all then?”

  What?

  “Oh, brother. Don’t stand there and start bawling like a baby. We’ll give you a ride.”

  She was drunk.

  Had to have been.

  Regardless, it meant I had a way home. I really didn’t have a choice. I would be stupid to pass it up. Even if it meant riding in the same car with Carl the Schmuck.

  “Thanks,” I managed to say without falling into sobs.

  We waited and the car was brought up. I stood with Sheila on the sidewalk. Carl paid one valet while another opened the back door for me. After I got in, he opened Sheila’s door and she scooted in. “Buckle up, sweetheart. Or I might have to come in there and help you.” He chuckled, proud of himself for being so cute. He slammed the door.

  A loud piercing scream ripped my eardrums. Sheila was cursing and shrieking so fast and loud, I couldn’t tell what was going on.

  I finally figured out between all the profanity blasting from her mouth that her hand was in the door. The valet figured it out about the same time that I did, and he got the door opened again.

  “My hand! My hand!” She was sobbing and screaming words so vulgar at the valet that I wanted to hide. The boy who had smashed her hand in the door stood like a store manikin watching her hysteria. A few others pressed in around him, trying to do something to help.

  Carl was around the car in a split second. He pushed the useless valet out of his way and supported Sheila while she held her mangled hand. I got out to see what I could do to help.

  Carl tossed me his keys.

  “Drive, Kate. Take us to the ER. Go to our hospital. We might have to wait at Northwestern.”

  I did as I was told. I held my door open and let them get in to the back seat. Then I got in the driver’s seat and took off to race out of downtown. Sheila traded between wailing like her arm had been severed, and cursing a blue streak that would scorch a sailor’s ears.

  After a crazed drive to the West Side, I let them out at the ER entrance and went to park Carl’s Lexus. It was a beauty. Leather insides, polished, undented outsides. Black. Luxurious. Sound system like a concert hall. Drove like a dream.

  Not quite the city bus I was accustomed to.

  I parked the car, which slid very nicely into the Physician’s Only parking space. I sat a moment before getting out, just feeling the luxury of the vehicle and absorbing the music while I could. For one brief moment, I forgot the humiliation that had taken me there. Finally, I powered her down and pulled out the keys. I’d go relinquish them to Carl, check on Sheila, and try to find another way home. At least I’d gotten a lot closer.

  When I got inside the ER, Carl was demanding that someone do something. Sheila had managed to compose herself enough to keep from melting our ears with her blistering language and sat sniffling, waiting for Carl to get her some relief.

  I sat down next to Sheila, arranging the tulle green skirt of my gown, feeling just a little out of place in an ER packed with people like the Illinois DMV. Sheila and I were certainly more than a little overdressed for the diverse gathering. From flushed, croupy kids in their pajamas crying in their mothers’ arms to groups of probable-gang members hovering around their injured friends, the waiting room was teeming with bleeding, broken, or bacteria-riddled people.

  “Have you looked yet?” I asked, still tucking the dress in between me and the small chair.

  She shook her head, keeping
her eyes straight ahead, avoiding just that.

  “Want me to?”

  She shook her head again. Then nodded, then shook. Then she just held her hand out in my direction, it resting in the palm of her other hand. She still didn’t look.

  There were some napkins over it. They were soaked in red, matching the color of Sheila’s sequin gown. I lifted the edge and peeked beneath. “It’s not terrible.” Actually, it was. “Really Sheila.” I tried to focus on the positive. “All five fingers are still attached. Mostly. The skin’s broken. You’ll need stitches. And at least one looks broken. I know you won’t want to hear it, but your manicure is shot.”

  I don’t think my attempt at humor helped. She closed her eyes tightly, pushing tears out, and grimaced.

  “Want me to get some ice?”

  She nodded.

  Because the ER was way too busy, I hurried instead to the closest in-patient floor and found a rubber glove and filled it with crushed ice. Then I snatched a sterile gauze pack from a supply cart. I headed back to the emergency room with my pilfered supplies, ready to help Sheila and suppress my own feelings about my last wait in the ER when Howard had died.

  I held out the lumpy glove of ice. “Here you go. Any word from Carl yet?”

  “He’s working on it,” she whispered through tight teeth. “They’re full. Couple of bad traumas in just before us.”

  She thrust out her hand so I could place the ice on it for her. First I removed the napkin and set the sterile gauze over the wound. Then I put the glove on as gently as I could, but I knew it had to have hurt. Sheila took it like a trooper. Or maybe that was more like a marine. She had a way with words. She could string a bunch of obscenities together like they were all part of one long multi-syllabic vulgar word.

  Carl returned from behind the security doors of the ER and sat on the other side of Sheila. We were lucky to find three available chairs together. He put his arms around her and she leaned into his support.

  “Sorry, Babe. They’re working on it. They’ve got to get a DOA out, then transfer a couple of live ones to ICU, then they’ll have an open bed.”

  “Can I get you guys anything?” I asked. “Coffee, Coke?”