3 Savor Read online

  Dr. Teledaga was the surgeon who’d performed emergency surgery when Handel was first brought in, repairing broken ribs and a collapsed lung. Afterwards, he’d come by ICU to check on his patient and they’d chatted for a few minutes. A couple days later she ran into him in a corridor of the hospital when she was looking for a snack machine and they’d had a light-hearted conversation about boating and his love of deep-sea fishing. He wasn’t at all what she’d imagined a surgeon to be like.

  He gently put a hand on her arm now and led her toward a table in a quiet corner, then pulled out her chair with a smile. “How’s this?”

  “Fine, thanks.” She sat down and tried to stifle a yawn as the doctor took the chair across from her. Lacing her fingers around the cup, she sighed. “I don’t think I would have survived the past week without your supervision, Doctor.”

  “I’m sure you would have done fine, once you found your way out of the custodian’s storage closet,” he said, in a teasing tone. He lifted his cup and blew softly at rising steam before taking a tentative sip. “I’m just glad I was there at the opportune moment to guide you back to your husband’s bedside. It’s not often I have the pleasure of meeting a fellow mid-westerner.”

  “I don’t think West Virginia is really considered mid-west,” she said with a slight quirk of her brows.

  “No? Why is it in the name then?”

  “You’re crazy. How did you end up way out here in San Francisco anyway? You’re a long way from your mountain mama.”

  “Like a bad country song, I left home right after high school. Hitchhiked for a year or so, seeing the country, working odd jobs. When I got to California I realized I couldn’t walk on water so I enrolled at the university and decided to become a doctor. Of course, now that I can walk on water I no longer have a desire to travel further west,” he brushed a hand over close-cropped hair, more silver than black and his lips thinned thoughtfully. “I liked the bay area, so I decided to stay.”

  “You don’t miss your home? Your family?” she asked, leaning one elbow on the table to prop her chin on her hand. Exhaustion seeped all the way to her toes. She could fall asleep where she sat if she didn’t keep talking.

  He took another gulp of coffee and shook his head. “Not much family to speak of. None that I want to acknowledge anyway.”

  “That bad, huh?”

  “I didn’t invite you to coffee to depress you.” He tipped his head to the side and his eyes narrowed. “I thought you might need a break from this unrealistic, self-imposed vigil you’ve set yourself on.”

  There it was. Out in the open. The elephant in the room.

  He’d already told her she should go home and rest. Handel’s neurologist, Doctor Chao, had said the same. There was no reason to believe her husband would wake up anytime soon. He was still in a coma and there had been no improvement since his last surgery. They said he was lucid when they first brought him in after the accident but he’d suffered brain trauma along with all his other injuries and the ER nurse said he lost consciousness soon after.

  Billie hated that she wasn’t here in time to tell Handel she loved him, to hold his hand, to reassure him that… She rubbed her nose and sniffed. “There’s nothing unrealistic about staying by Handel’s side until he wakes up. He needs me.” She argued half-heartedly, cringing inside at the unthinkable – that he might never need her again. The lovemaking they’d so recently enjoyed, sharing things with one another that they’d never share with another soul, planning their future together… could all be over. The thought was intolerable. She couldn’t bear losing him.

  She’d taken to falling asleep in the chair beside his bed. The nurses had brought her a cot but she seldom slept on it because whenever she lay down she tended to dream. And dreaming never ended well. She’d dream Handel back to health, and then she’d wake up.

  Dr. Teledaga reached across the table and brushed her arm with the tips of his fingers. She jerked away as though he’d prodded her with a red-hot poker. It suddenly felt traitorous to be sitting here enjoying coffee with a handsome doctor while Handel lay unresponsive in ICU. She had no business talking and laughing as though life could go on as usual.

  “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to upset you.” He slowly pulled back and stuffed his hands in the pockets of his white coat. “I know you want to believe and I’m all for holding out hope as long as humanly possible, but at some point you’re going to have to take a step back and reassess your options.”

  She shook her head, anger surging up from under the surface. Unaware until now that it was building, she had thought she was taking this whole thing fairly well. How dare he? He had no right. The chair made a loud racket, scraping against hard tile as she scooted back and jumped up. “Handel is going to wake up and I’m going to be there beside him when he does. Thanks for your input but you’re a cold, insensitive bastard and I don’t think you understand what normal people go through after you cut their loved ones up and sew them back together. We don’t just go on with our lives while the person we love lies there…” she choked on the words and turned away.

  Dashing at her eyes with the long sleeve of her t-shirt, she blindly dodged tables in her rush to leave the cafeteria. After a near collision with an elderly woman holding a full tray, she was through the doors and into the hall, sucking in a deep breath to prevent sobs from pushing their way out. She ran into the nearest women’s bathroom, slammed into a stall and locked the door. Tears coursing down her cheeks, she leaned against the stall partition and sobbed.

  After a couple of minutes, the outside door opened with a soft squeak as someone entered. Billie held her breath and rubbed tears from her cheeks with the pads of her fingers.

  “Are you all right, Mrs. Parker?” a hesitant voice asked. “Dr. Teledaga asked me to check on you.”

  She opened the door and stepped out to face a young blonde nurse in cotton candy pink scrubs. Her nametag said, Annie. Billie didn’t know what had come over her. Tears and drama were so not her thing. She smiled at the young nurse, hoping she looked calm and collected now that the storm was past. “I’m fine, thanks,” she said and began washing her hands at the sink.

  The girl continued to stand behind her, watching. “I just wanted to let you know that we do have grief counselors available if you’d like to speak with someone. Religious or non-religious.”

  Billie looked up from drying her hands and met the other woman’s eyes in the mirror. “My husband isn’t dead.”

  “Oh, I didn’t mean to imply…”

  “Please leave unless you’re here to pee. I don’t need a keeper.” She threw the wadded paper towel into the trash. “And by the way,” she said when the girl opened the door to leave, “you can tell Dr. Teledaga that if I need a Doctor’s advice, I already have plenty of them on call.”

  The door swung shut and Billie blew out an angry breath. The gall of some people! Insinuating themselves into her life as though they knew her. She pulled her cell phone from her pocket and turned it on to check for messages. They didn’t like her to use her phone in ICU so she’d taken to shutting it off while she was in the room.

  Sally had left a couple of texts relating to one of their regular customers who wanted to double their order for the year. They owned a high-end restaurant in Billings, Montana and apparently Fredrickson’s Wine was a big hit in cowboy country.

  She replied to the winery messages and then flipped back to read the last message Handel sent her right before he got onto the freeway that afternoon. Her eyes filled with tears and she bit her lip to keep from crying.

  Be home soon, babe. I got big plans for tonight. Gonna memorize your curves till morning light. Don’t start without me.

  She couldn’t bear to delete it. After seven days, she’d probably read it a hundred times. Handel was always sending her funny texts. Whenever he’d get a break during the trial or late at night in his hotel room, he’d type her a note. Silly, romantic, sexy…

  If only she could rewind to the moment
it came in and pick up the phone, instead of ignoring it because she was busy yelling at Adam about the financial statement for the bank. She pressed reply as she had every day since then and typed another message for him to read when he woke up.

  You’ve been sleeping for seven days, Handy. Please wake up so I can feel whole again. Don’t leave me without you.

  •••••

  Margaret and Davy stood outside Handel’s room when Billie returned. In a hot pink sundress and flip flops, and her long blonde hair pulled up off her neck with a silver comb, her sister-in-law looked much too young and beautiful to be the mother of a ten-year-old boy. Every male that passed by turned to stare but Margaret managed to appear oblivious to the attention.

  Billie glanced at her watch. Eight o’clock. Her days and nights were beginning to blend together. She’d actually started thinking it was morning when it was obviously evening. Margaret had promised Davy she’d bring him in on Friday after work. And here they were. Visiting hours were until 9:00 p.m. but the nurses usually let Margaret stay longer knowing she had such a long way to drive.

  Davy hadn’t been to the hospital since Sunday, two days after the accident. Another five days had passed since then and although the swelling around Handel’s face and head had been greatly reduced, he still looked pretty awful. Billie hoped his nephew wouldn’t be frightened at the sight.

  She forced a smile and gave him a hug. “Good to see you kiddo. How was school today?” she asked, hoping to avoid the kind of piercing questions that only a kid would dare ask. But Davy was more than a kid. Some days he was a wise old man in a child’s body. Not always, but he had his moments. Maybe because of what he’d lived through just a few months ago; kidnapped by his own grandfather, drugged, and left alone in a dark shed. That sort of experience would either turn you into a pile of mush or strengthen you for the long haul. Like they said, what doesn’t kill you…

  He shrugged. “School’s out for summer, Billie. Remember?”

  “That’s right,” she said, flicking a glance toward Margaret. “I forgot.”

  “That’s okay. You have a lot on your mind.”

  Margaret put a hand on his shoulder and glanced toward the door of the room. “How’s he doing today?” she asked.

  “About the same. Doctor Chao was here a couple of hours ago to check on him. He said there was no change. Handel should be waking up by now, but for some reason his brain is refusing. He said there are some drugs they can try but he wants to give Handel a couple more days to see if he wakes on his own.” She forced another too-bright smile. “Why don’t you go on in and talk to him a minute? I think he’s sick of hearing my voice.”

  Margaret and Davy obediently trooped in and stood at Handel’s bedside. Billie saw tears shimmer in his sister’s eyes before she reached for his hand and held it gently.

  “Hello, big brother. Davy and I drove all the way here to talk to you and you’re still sleeping. You promised to help coach Davy’s little league team this summer. We know you hate baseball but isn’t this a little over the top just to get out of it?”

  There were a few moments of awkward silence. Billie waited, knowing it took a while to feel comfortable having a one-sided conversation with a man.

  “Hey, Uncle Handel,” Davy finally said, his voice boyishly gruff. “I helped at the winery today. Mostly I just ran errands for Sally, but it was fun. Hey, Adam got a gig at some place called The Screech Owl. He said they were gonna pay him and everything.”

  The fingers of Handel’s left hand twitched. Billie was sure of it. For long seconds she stared, wishing for a miracle that never seemed to come. She stepped to the other side of the bed and nodded, urging Davy to keep talking.

  He kept up a constant patter of one-sided conversation seemingly oblivious to the turmoil her heart was in. She finally pulled the chair close to the bed and sat down, stroking her palm lightly over Handel’s whisker rough cheek and across his forehead pushing the hair off his temple. He had some cuts and scratches on his face from flying glass, but nothing that would leave a permanent scar. She was careful not to put pressure on the bruise over his left eyebrow.

  Margaret sat in the chair on the other side and listened as Davy told Handel about all the boxes he’d carried and stacked behind the winery and how he’d even gone with Levi to pick up supplies in town. “Levi said while he was gone on vacation for the next two weeks, that I could be in charge of the goats and moving them around the vineyard to keep the weeds down.” His gaze shifted upward from Handel’s closed and bruised eyelids. “Is that all right with you, Billie?”

  “Of course. I trust Levi’s opinion. If he left you in charge, then I’m sure you’ll do a fine job.” Levi was a twenty-year-old farm boy from Wisconsin who showed up at the winery a year ago looking for work. He was a natural with animals, so the care of Jack and Jill, their weed eating goat couple, was in his capable hands. She’d forgotten that he was flying out to visit his family this week.

  Davy’s face lit up for a second at the simple acknowledgment, and then he seemed to remember why he was there. He leaned closer to Handel, his fingers curled around the metal bar of the guardrail, and lowered his voice. “Don’t worry if you can’t coach this time, Uncle Handel. Really. Just get better. Okay?”

  Handel lay as quiet as before. They watched him, hoping for a response. Any response. Billie was sure he would react to his nephew’s presence. They were always so close. He would do anything for the boy. Without a word, Margaret stood and wrapped her arms around her young son from behind and together they listened to the steady beep of the monitor fill the quiet of the room.

  Finally, Billie couldn’t take anymore. “I need to make a call,” she said, and barely escaped before tears fell. What was wrong with her? She was falling apart. She was always the strong one in her family, the one who forged ahead and made the best of a situation. But there was no best in this situation. Handel was the buoy in her life now, the lifeline. Without him she felt lost at sea.

  She dashed at the tears on her cheeks and started walking down the hall without a clear destination in mind. A breath of fresh air would be nice. Maybe she could think straight without all the recycled oxygen clouding her brain and turning her emotions inside out.

  “Ms. Parker?” A short muscular Hispanic man in dark brown slacks and a black t-shirt stood near the elevators as though unsure where to go from there. He raised a hand in greeting. One corner of his mouth lifted in a tight smile, stretching a pale scar that ran from his left cheek to just under his chin.

  Billie hesitated, unsure what the man wanted. She didn’t recognize him, but he seemed to know her. She was pretty sure she’d remember him if they met at the winery. He had a sleeve tattoo covering his left arm from the wrist up, another tattoo on the side of his neck and the familiar barbed wire tattoo around the bicep of his right arm. This guy was a walking ink well.

  He reached in his pocket and pulled out a wallet, flipped it open. “You don’t know me. I work for your husband. I’m a private investigator,” he said, showing her his business card and photo I.D. “Better?”

  “What?” she asked, flustered by his directness.

  “You seemed wary. I want to set your mind at rest about speaking with me.”

  “I was on my way out. Are you here to visit Handel?” she glanced back at the nurse’s station. “They’re not allowing anyone but family in ICU at this time. Sorry.”

  “I didn’t think they would. How is he doing?”

  “His prognosis hasn’t changed. He’s still comatose.”

  “I’m sorry to hear that. Your husband is a good man. I’ll light a candle for him Sunday at mass,” he said.

  “Thank you, Mr. Alvarez.” She wasn’t sure what else to say. If a lit candle meant more prayer for Handel, then she was all for it. He could use all the prayers and good thoughts available. She’d done plenty of praying herself this past week, especially in the middle of the night when sleep wouldn’t come and hopelessness tried to squirm its
way into her heart and soul. “Thank you for stopping by,” she added.

  “Actually,” he said putting a hand on her arm when she began to turn away, “I wanted to speak with you.”

  “Me? About what?”

  “Handel had me working on something before his accident. We were looking into a spate of rival gang activity during the week before Mr. Kawasaki’s wife was murdered. He believed it was somehow connected.”

  “I’m sorry. I don’t really know much about the case other than what’s been on the news. Handel was very careful about client confidentiality. We rarely discussed our work.” She stared at the flashing floor number above the elevator doors, avoiding his eyes. She had shied away from discussing Handel’s case for purely selfish reasons. Not because she was worried about client confidentiality, but because she was worried Handel would expect her to reciprocate and share her work with him. So rather than feel guilty, she shut him down time after time. Now when she had the opportunity to help him… she couldn’t.

  “I understand. But you must have his notes. The police gave you his briefcase they recovered at the accident, didn’t they? Maybe there’s a lead in there for me to follow while he’s incapacitated. That way when he wakes up everything will be ready for him to jump right back into court without asking for another continuance.”

  Billie pressed her lips together and tried to clamp down her feelings. Would Handel ever be able to jump right back into court? Even if he did wake up soon, he had a long way to go to full recovery. They had no way of knowing how much damage was done until he…

  “Are you all right?”

  She cleared her throat and glanced back at the room where Margaret and Davy still sat with Handel, their eyes full of hope. “Honestly, no. Mind if we take a walk outside while we talk?”

  “Not at all.”

  They took the elevator to ground level and made their way out to the street. The hospital had a quiet park area nearby and Billie headed that way wanting to avoid as much street noise as possible. A young man on a bicycle zipped in front of them without glancing their way and Mr. Alvarez pulled her back just in time to avoid a collision.