Travelers Rest (24 page)

“Okay, sorry to call so early. But can you please try to find it today?”

“I wish I knew what all the fuss was about—”

“It’s a long story, Gram. I’ll tell you all about it soon. Right now, I just want to get Laney’s address.”

“Well, you know it means climbing up into the attic where I keep all the Christmas stuff. I bet I’ve got fifty shoe boxes filled with old cards. Why on earth I’m such a pack rat . . .”

As her grandmother rattled on, Jane felt her heart sink. How would Gram find the one card Jane needed when there was a lifetime’s worth of junk up in the attic?

“Gram, maybe I should come home and help you.”

“Don’t be foolish. You don’t need to come all that way just to help me find a Christmas card. I may have lots of junk, but at least it’s organized.”

“You won’t get sidetracked, will you? I know how you are when you start digging around in the attic.”

“I won’t get sidetracked, Jane. I don’t have time to be sentimental today. We have full occupancy, and I want our guests to be more than satisfied. That’s what brings them back, you know.”

“I know, I know, Gram. But listen, call me when you find the card, will you?”

She heard her grandmother sigh. “Yes, I’ll call you if I find it. I can’t say for sure when I last got a card from her.”

“Well, just call me when you know anything at all, will you? I’ll let you go now. I know you’re busy.”

“All right, Jane.”

“And thanks, Gram.”

“Don’t thank me yet. Wait till I find the Christmas card, if there is one.”

Jane hated putting on the gown, the gloves, the mask. She cringed at the antiseptic smells of the ICU, the various whooshing and beeping sounds, the lighted numbers above the bed counting out the heartbeats, the number of breaths. She had grown to dislike white linens and cheap woven blankets, metal beds, bare floors, and narrow windows that showed a world outside she hardly felt a part of anymore.

The world inside—that was Seth’s world. And hers. Not a pretty place. Not a place she would have asked for nor wanted. But here she was.

Seth was asleep. Unlike a few days before, he now slept peacefully. His head was turned slightly to one side, as though today he was listening to something pleasant. And maybe he was. As long as he was sleeping, he could dream. And in his dreams he was whole again and life was good and pleasurable and full of promise, just as it had been before Iraq. She wondered what he was doing in his dream right now. She wondered where he was and what he saw and what he heard. Wherever he was, it was a place far better than this bleak room. Anyplace would be better than this.

She wouldn’t wake him.

In the hall she stripped off the gloves and mask, stepped on the pedal of a stainless steel can to pop the lid, and tossed them in. She slipped out of the gown and stuffed it in a linen hamper.

She found Truman in the waiting room. He had two pint cartons of chocolate milk, one in each hand. He held them up for her to see. “It’s a beautiful day outside,” he said. “Want to join me in the gazebo for a drink?”

The cold milk was refreshing. She was surprised at how good it tasted, surprised too at how—between the milk, the open air, and the roses blooming around the gazebo—she felt a little more hopeful. A few snatches of ordinary life and just a glimpse of beauty and already she felt stronger than she had only moments before.

“Seth looked better today,” she said.

Truman nodded. He took a final swig of the chocolate milk, closed the carton, and set it on the bench beside him.

“But it seems like he’s been in the ICU forever,” she went on. “Is it normal for someone to have pneumonia for this long?”

“Oh yes.” Truman dabbed at his mouth with the cuff of his shirt. “Pneumonia can be one tough nut to crack. But I think Seth’s looking a little better too, like maybe he’s about to turn the corner.”

“Do you really think so, Truman?”

Truman started to respond but was interrupted by Jane’s cell phone ringing. Jane reached for her pocketbook. “Maybe that’s Gram!” she said. “Maybe she found Laney’s address.”

She pulled the phone out of its pouch and looked at the number. She shrugged and shook her head at Truman as she opened the phone. “Hello?”

A woman’s voice said, “Jane?”

“Yes, this is Jane.”

“Oh my goodness, child, you sound all grown up. Jane honey, this is Laney. Laney Jackson.”

“Laney!” Jane felt herself carried back to the Rayburn House kitchen in a warm rush of memories. Laney was there in her white bibbed apron, making biscuits and singing hymns and offering smiles to the love-starved little girl that Jane had been. Now Jane smiled and pulled in a deep breath, as though drinking in those long-ago days. “Laney, how did you get my number?”

“Your grandmother called. She said you wanted to find me.”

“But how did she find
you
? I mean, how’d she find your phone number?” She glanced at Truman, whose eyes were wide, his face expectant.

“Well, she said she found the Christmas card I sent last year, and she saw our return address is the Travelers Rest Inn. It’s not hard to find the phone number of the Inn. Travelers Rest isn’t a very big place, you know.”

“You live at the Travelers Rest Inn?” Another glance at Truman, whose eyes grew even wider.

“Yes, but more than that, we own it. Clapper and I. We bought it a few years back and now we run it as a B&B, just like your grandmother runs the Rayburn House.”

“Really, Laney? That’s wonderful! It’s . . .” She paused a moment, surprised by the sting of tears behind her eyes. “It’s so good to hear your voice,” she finished.

“It’s good to hear your voice too, honey. Makes me realize how much I’ve been missing you all these years.”

“I’ve missed you too. I wish I’d been better about staying in touch. I’m sorry.”

“Nothing to be sorry about, child, especially since you’ve found me now. Goodness, but hearing your voice, it seems like time’s been all squeezed together and it was just yesterday since I last saw you. Hmm, yessir . . .” Laney paused and sighed contentedly. “Those were sweet days, working for Mrs. Morrow, spending time with you. But listen, honey, I know you had a reason for wanting to find me.”

“Oh.” Jane looked up at Truman again and smiled. He was fidgeting restlessly now. “I’m spending the summer in Asheville, and I’ve met someone here who knew your mother.”

“Really? Now who is that?”

“Well, Laney, do you remember your mother ever talking about Truman Rockaway?”

Jane’s question was met with momentary silence. Then, “You’re talking about Dr. Rockaway?”

“Yes. Dr. Rockaway.”

“He’s there?”

“Yes.” Jane nodded. “And he’d like to meet you.” Another pause, one that needled Jane and set her on edge. Hesitantly, she asked, “Would that be all right, Laney?”

“I don’t know what to say, Jane,” Laney finally replied. “You’ve caught me off-guard. I thought he was long dead.”

“No. I can assure you he’s not dead. He’s sitting right here across from me.”

“Well, now, isn’t that something. I’m . . . I’m . . . and you say he wants to meet me?”

“Yes. Would that be all right?” she asked again. For the first time, Jane realized it may not be all right at all. To Laney, Truman Rockaway may be nothing more than the man who broke her mother’s heart. “But, of course, if you’d rather not, I’m sure—”

“No, no. I’d be happy to meet Dr. Rockaway. It’s just that, I’m going out of town on Saturday, and I’ll be gone a month. Do you remember my son Eugene?”

“Sure, I remember him.”

“Well, he’s in graduate school, and he’s got an internship out in California.”

“He does? Little Eugene?”

“Not so little anymore. All grown up like you, Jane honey. Time’s gone by.”

“Yes.” Jane laughed lightly. “I guess it has.”

“So Sarah and I, we’re going to California with him just for the adventure. Poor Clapper’s going to stay here and man the store.”

“What about Frankie?”

“He’s staying home with Clapper, helping out around here while he’s taking some summer classes at Furman University. By the way, he’s Frank now. Won’t answer to Frankie.”

Jane sighed at the thought of time passing, things changing. “So you say you’re leaving Saturday?”

“That’s right.”

“And today’s Tuesday.”

“Uh-huh.”

“Listen, Laney, how about if we drive down tomorrow?” Jane looked at Truman, who nodded.

“Sure, honey. Come on down. Stay a couple of days. This is a big place, and we got plenty of room. We’ll keep a couple rooms available for you and Dr. Rockaway. No charge.”

“Really, Laney? You want us to stay a couple of days?”

“Of course. Honey, I haven’t seen you in a dozen years. As long as you’re coming down, you might as well stay awhile.”

“Well, that’d be great. I’ll let Truman know.” Jane glanced up as Truman rose from the bench. Flustered, she watched him begin to leave. “Thanks, Laney. Really, I can’t wait to see you.”

“Oh, honey, I can’t wait to see you either.”

“Good. Tomorrow then, all right?”

By the time Jane said good-bye and snapped the phone shut, Truman was halfway across the commons. “Truman! Where are you going?”

He hollered over his shoulder as he continued toward the door, “I’ve got packing to do!”

Jane smiled as she watched him lope away on his old arthritic knees, the shoelace of one battered leather shoe trailing behind him.

She was glad Seth was awake when she went to see him later that afternoon. She wished she didn’t have to wear the mask so that he could see her smile.

“How are you feeling?” she asked.

“A little better, I think.”

“You look better.”

He nodded weakly.

“Listen, I have to go away for a few days, but I’ll be back soon.”

“Where you going?”

“I’m taking Truman to Travelers Rest to meet Laney.”

He offered a puzzled frown. “What?”

“It’s a long story.”

“So tell me.”

“I don’t have time. The nurse will kick me out before I can finish.”

He appeared to shrug. He closed his eyes a moment, opened them again.

“Is it a long drive from Troy?” he asked.

“From Troy? We’re not in Troy, Seth. We’re in Asheville. Remember?”

His eyes wandered off as he thought about that. When he didn’t respond, she said, “You’re in the VA hospital, and I’m staying at Diana’s house.” At the mention of Diana’s house, Jane realized she’d have to ask her friend whether a neighbor could look after the dogs for a couple of days. She’d take care of that as soon as she got home.

Seth focused his eyes on Jane’s face again. “Oh yeah,” he said. “How could I forget?”

“Blame it on the drugs. They’ve got you pumped full of them.”

“Drugs, or wishful thinking, maybe.”

“Yeah, well, another couple of months and we’ll both be back in Troy. Your folks are getting the house ready for your homecoming, you know.”

Seth sighed heavily as two lines formed between his brows. “So you and Truman are going somewhere?”

“Yes. Travelers Rest.”

“And when will you be back?”

“Friday. Today’s Tuesday, so like I said, it’s just a few days.”

“All right.”

A nurse appeared in the doorway. “Time’s up,” she said.

Jane looked at her, back at Seth. “I have to go.”

“Okay.”

“By the time I get back, I expect you to be out of the ICU.”

“I’ll do my best.”

She wanted to tell him that she loved him, but she stopped herself. She glanced over her shoulder at the doorway. It was empty. Defiantly, she pulled the mask down, tucking it under her chin. She leaned over the bed rail and pressed her lips gently against Seth’s forehead. His skin was cool and moist. “Good-bye, Seth,” she said. “See you soon.”

By the time she straightened up, his eyes were closed and he’d already drifted off. She settled the mask back in place and left the room.

36

T
he highway sloped downward as the Honda traveled from the mountains of western North Carolina to the foothills just across the South Carolina line. Jane felt every mile of I-26 rolling beneath her, separating her from Seth. A particularly sharp pain shot through her as they passed the sign for Chimney Rock and Lake Lure at Exit 49A. Jane averted her eyes and tried to tamp down the memory of the day she became engaged to Seth. She glanced at her left hand on the steering wheel; she didn’t wear the ring anymore, and they were no longer officially engaged, yet leaving him behind was hard. It was the timing that was bad. She wanted to see Laney, and she wanted to take Truman to Travelers Rest, but she wished she hadn’t had to leave Seth while he was still in the ICU. If he were over the pneumonia and back in his old room, she wouldn’t feel quite so anxious about being gone a couple of days. But that was the thing, Jane told herself. It was only a couple of days. She’d be back in Asheville the day after tomorrow, and by then he really might be over the crisis and back in his old room.