Volcano (41 page)

He could only pray that he'd forged chains of steel in the last twenty-four hours, because it looked like that was all they were going to get.

She looked up with that long, slow, inviting smile of hers as he stepped into the sunshine. Charlie supposed, if he was being objective, that her mouth was too wide for her narrow, elegant face, but she had lush, rosy lips that begged to be kissed, and he didn't give a damn for proportions. He leaned over and kissed them.

She tasted of coffee and smelled of him. The sensual combination intoxicated him, but he knew he couldn't delay the news any longer.

He laid the scribbled messages on the table. “Raul called. I told him how to find us in case of emergency.”

Instantly, alarm leapt to her face, and she grabbed the messages. “What's happened?”

The pink slips had no more than phone numbers and times on them. Charlie took the chair beside her. “The helicopter will take us over to Puerto Rico. My plane will meet us there. We'll be in Miami in a few hours. She's in good hands, Penelope. There isn't anything you can do but be there.”

She found the slip with John's name and stared at him in horror. “Beth? Something's happened to Beth?”

“Raul doesn't know the details. John simply asked how to reach you, said he'd taken Beth to the hospital. They're operating on her this afternoon.”

She turned so pale, Charlie thought she'd faint. He didn't know what else to do besides what he'd already done. “I'll get you home, Penny,” he assured her.

Wide-eyed, she gulped, nodded, and looked away. He could feel her pulse pounding beneath his hand. He hadn't entirely understood what the kind of relationship he wanted meant until now. It wasn't just sandy beaches, steamy sex, and making babies. It was helping each other through the bad times, feeling each other's pain, being there when they'd rather be anywhere else. He scarcely knew Beth, but he knew Penelope's twin was more a part of her life than he could ever be.

“The helicopter is ready anytime you are,” he whispered.

Penelope gazed out the window of Charlie's plane and sought some relief from the panic jumbling her thoughts into incoherence. Charlie's bulk filling the seat beside her both reassured and confused her more. She felt as if she were splitting into two people: the old Penelope who strode firmly toward her goals and held her sister's well-being in her hands, and the strange new Penny who had recklessly turned down a path committing herself to a lifetime with a virtual stranger, leaving Beth behind. She was more familiar with the old self.

“I don't know what I could have been thinking of,” she muttered. “The sun must have baked my head.”

Charlie reached over and swallowed her hand in his. “Don't, Penelope. Don't blame yourself.”

Out of habit, she wanted to jerk her hand away, but the new Penny wanted the sharing touch. Still, her old self had control of her mind, what was left of it. “I'm not blaming myself for Beth,” she explained curtly. “I'm blaming myself for not being there, for not returning to my job, for not sticking to my goals. What if they've fired me? Beth's insurance is limited. She can't support herself. And here I am, letting you talk me into having
babies,
for heaven's sake!”

“Beth has children,” he pointed out. “She can't deny you that right.”

“Me? It never occurred to me. This is entirely your bright idea. More babies is the last thing this world needs.”

“We have every right to want children of our own, Penelope,” Charlie said calmly.

“You're just being selfish.” The calmer he got, the more irritated she became.

“Nobody says I'm not. I'm entirely human.” Complacently, he draped his arm over the back of her seat, enfolding her in the circle of his protection.

“Bringing a child into this world is a selfish act of ignorance,” she insisted as he hugged her closer.

“I figure we've got more to offer than most.” Unperturbed by her diatribe, he tickled her shoulder. “Why shouldn't we give it a try? Maybe we'll have the kid who grows up to be the president who brings world peace.”

“You're not dealing with reality here!” she practically screamed in frustration. “Reality is drugs and war and poverty and prejudice.”

He rubbed her arm soothingly. “So, I'm dreaming. When I dream, I dream big. It doesn't hurt. Try it sometime.”

“How can you dream when reality is all around you? Look at the divorce rate! The number of kids who die in car accidents. AIDS! Why would you want to bring up a kid in a world like that?” She knew she was being irrational, but she couldn't help it.

“You would prefer it if only drug addicts had children?” he asked irrelevantly. “Stop beating up on yourself. I love you, Beth loves you, and any child we might have will love you. You can cry and scream and get angry, and we'll all still love you. Life happens. You don't have to be in control of it every minute.”

Penelope broke down and cried then, pressing her face into Charlie's broad shoulder and sobbing out her fear and terror until she couldn't sob anymore, while he hugged her close, unafraid of her outburst. She hiccupped and curled her fingers into his shirt and continued hiding against his chest after the tears were spent. Why did she accept Charlie with the same intimacy as part of herself?

He'd said he loved her.

She'd never thought herself lovable.

“Close your eyes, Penny. Rest. It's gonna be a long day.” Charlie cupped his hand over the back of her head and cradled her against him.

“I can't rest. I want to explode. I want to be there right now.” Her words were muffled and she didn't know if he heard them. Better if he didn't. Superman might decide to fly the plane. She hiccupped on a giggle and decided she was hysterical.

“Then think about something else. Where would you like to live?” He didn't wait for her answer. “I've always imagined getting married and living in the suburbs and playing football in the front yard with the kids, but I've always kind of had this dream of designing my own house too.”

So, she wasn't the only one who harbored hidden dreams. She'd been so damned selfish, she really hadn't taken Charlie's feelings into consideration.

She dried her tears on his shirt but still didn't look up. She was a mess. She didn't cry prettily. “I like space,” she whispered. “Lots of space. And light.”

“I can't afford my own island yet,” he teased softly.

“There are some lovely places on the Carolina shore.” She remembered happier days, before her family fell apart, days on the beaches with the grasses and the herons. She'd been a child then. She could be carrying a child now. She wanted her child to have that happiness.

“Carolinas, huh? We could work up to that. Most of my contacts are here in Miami, but I can branch out. What about Beth? She'll want to be here, with her kids.”

Penelope shook her head against his chest. “It's just a silly dream.”

“Whoever told you that you can't have your dreams? We'll need a big sunny playroom for the kids. Are there jobs up there for you, or shall I make you my chief financial officer?”

She knew he was teasing, but his voice soothed the pain and confusion inside her head and heart. “Computer experts are needed everywhere,” she answered airily. “Even pregnant ones,” she finished with decided dryness.

Charlie chuckled, and the sound felt good rumbling against her ear. “Well, we may be rushing our boats a little. The chances of your walking down the aisle with rounded belly are probably pretty slim at this point.”

Considering all the times she'd had unprotected sex with Zack without result, Penelope had to agree with him. To her surprise, the realization hurt.

To distract her thoughts from further pain, she finally looked at him, knowing her nose was red and runny and her eyes were probably black with mascara. “You haven't even asked me to marry you,” she accused.

Charlie grinned and rubbed at the mascara beneath her damp eyes. “Did anyone ever tell you that your eyes sparkle like diamonds when you cry? I didn't ask because I didn't want you telling me no. We're just going to wind up standing before a preacher one of these days, and you'll never know how you got there.”

The way things were going, the damned man was probably right.

***

They rushed into the hospital just after noon. By the time they located Beth's floor, she had already been wheeled into the operating room.

They found John pacing the crowded waiting area, the kids playing quietly nearby. He looked up at their entrance, but his stony face held no expression.

“She was in pain,” he blurted, as if he had to defend himself.

“What did the doctor say?” Shivering inside, grateful for Charlie's strong hand on her shoulder, Penelope waited. She wouldn't think about Beth's panic as she was taken away in the hands of strangers. She'd always been there for her, and this separation from her twin ripped at her. Maybe Charlie was right; maybe she needed to let go more often.

“He said the nerve has been deteriorating under pressure from a clot, that she's needed the operation for some time. He doesn't know if he can fix it.” Pain etched John's face. “Why didn't she tell me?”

Penelope shook her head. “Why should she? You couldn't do any more than I could. The insurance won't pay for experimental surgery.”

“It's not experimental, dammit! She was in pain! You didn't see her faint like I did. She scared the damned shit out of me.” John turned and stalked away.

The children sat on the floor, staring at him, tears streaking their cheeks, worry puckering their brows.

Charlie crossed the lobby, scooped them up, whispered in their ears, and when they nodded, carried them out. Penelope blessed his heart and loved him even more. When she turned back to John, he must have seen what was written on her face.

“Don't let what happened to us happen to you,” he said quietly.

“Life happens.” Irritated to hear herself repeating Charlie, Penelope dropped down in one of the hideously hard plastic chairs. “In your case, you happened. You broke her heart and tore it into tiny little pieces. She was just getting over it. I should never have called you in.”

“Beth would never have called me in,” he agreed, flinging his long frame into another chair. “She froze me out as soon as she learned she'd never see again. She didn't want my help or my sympathy or anything to do with me. I didn't break her heart. She tore it up and threw it away herself.”

“Oh, listen to the big tough guy,” Penelope taunted. “Her entire life fell apart, and what did you do? Threw away your job, moved to Florida, and took the kids with you. That really helped a lot.”

John slapped his hands on the chair arms. “What the hell was I supposed to do? She went home to your mother. She wouldn't let me near her. I was damned if I was going to let your mother take over my kids too. The woman has a heart of stone. All she was ever interested in was how much money I made. I swear, she wouldn't let Beth marry me unless I promised to join that damned law firm. How do you think I felt? My wife was blinded for life, she wouldn't let me near her, and your damned mother wanted to steal my kids. I had to stand up for myself somehow. And I didn't take the Florida job until Beth mentioned moving down here to be with you. I figured it would inspire her to get away from the witch.”

He slumped in the chair and buried his face in his hands. “What the hell difference does any of it make now? I can't make her better. I can't make anything better.”

Penelope bit her lip and wished Charlie were back here again. She didn't know what to say. She'd spent a lifetime bottling things up inside of her. Her parents had fought constantly, and she'd thought hiding her feelings would help. So she'd tiptoed around them all her life, and continued tiptoeing even after she'd grown up and moved on. But she couldn't tiptoe around this problem now. Beth wasn't the only one hurting. Her children and this man crumpled in the chair were suffering. Penelope had little experience at healing hurts.

“I don't suppose you ever asked why Beth wouldn't let you near her?” she asked tentatively.

John shrugged. “Said she didn't like pity. What the hell was I supposed to feel? She was in pain, she couldn't do any of the things she used to do. I wanted to help, but she wouldn't let me.”

Penelope repressed an urge to speak sharply. “Did it ever occur to you that she was ashamed of herself? Beth has always taken pride in her appearance, but after the accident, she couldn't tell a red dress from a black one, or how bad the scars looked. She knew she was a good wife, and she took pride in that too, until you started treating her like cotton candy instead of a desirable woman. She thought maybe she could handle the kids, but you took them away from her. You left her nothing.”

John's big shoulders sagged. “I couldn't bear seeing her pain,” he whispered. “I couldn't even look at her,” he said with anguish indicating he'd never admitted this to anyone. “I didn't realize she knew....”