Part Four
DRAGON SLAYER
Chapter 84
N ANA PICKED UP THE PHONE in the kitchen, where the family had gathered to fix supper that night. We all had a task for the meal, from peeling potatoes to making a Caesar salad and setting the table with the good silver. I tensed whenever the phone rang though. Now what? Had Sampson found something on the Butcher?
Nana spoke into the receiver. “Hello, sweetheart, how are you? How are you feeling? Oh, that’s good, that’s so good to hear. Let me get him. Alex is right here chopping vegetables like he works at Benihana. Oh, yeah, he’s doing pretty good. He’ll be lots better when he hears your voice.”
I knew it had to be Kayla, so I took the call out in the living room. Even as I did, I wondered when we had evolved into a family with telephones in just about every room, not to mention the cell phones that Damon and Jannie carried to school these days.
“So, how are you, sweetheart?” I picked up and tried to imitate Nana’s dulcet tones. “I’ve got it. You can hang up in the kitchen,” I added for the peanut gallery listening in, cackling and giggling out there.
“Hi, Kayla! Bye, Kayla!” chorused the kids.
“Bye, Kayla,” added Nana. “We love you. Get better real soon.”
She and I heard a click, and then Kayla said, “I’m doing just fine. The patient is doing beautifully. Almost healed and ready to kick some butt again.”
I smiled and felt the warmth flow through me just hearing her voice, even long distance like this. “Well, it’s good to listen to your butt-kicking voice again.”
“Yours too, Alex. And the kids and Nana. I’m sorry I didn’t call last week. My father has been under the weather, but he’s coming around now too. And you know me. I’ve been doing some pro bono work in the neighborhood. I just hate to get paid, you know.”
There was a brief pause, but then I filled the space with inane questions about Kayla’s folks and life in North Carolina, where both of us had been born. By this time, I had calmed down some about the unexpected call from Kayla, and I was more myself.
“So how are you?” I asked her. “You really okay? Almost recovered?”
“I am. I’m clearer on certain things than I’ve been in a while. Had some time to process and reflect for a change. Alex, I’ve been thinking that
I might not be coming back to Washington. I wanted to talk to you about it before I told anyone else.”
My stomach dropped like a runaway elevator in a skyscraper. I had suspected something like this might be coming, but I still buckled from the blow.
Kayla continued to talk. “There’s so much to do down here. Lots of sick people, of course. And I’d forgotten how nice, how sane, this place is. I’m sorry, I’m not putting this
saying it very well.”
I snuck in a light thought. “You’re not real verbal. That’s a problem with you scientists.”
Kayla sighed deeply. “Alex, do you think I’m wrong about this? You know what I’m saying? Of course you do.”
I wanted to tell Kayla she was dead wrong, that she should rush back here to DC, but I couldn’t bring myself to say it. Why was that? “All right, here’s the only answer I can give, Kayla. You know what’s right for yourself. I would never try to influence you at all. I know that I couldn’t if I wanted to. I’m not sure that came out exactly right.”
“Oh, I think it did. You’re just being honest,” she said. “I do have to figure out what’s best for me. It’s my nature, isn’t it? It’s both of our natures.”
We went on talking for a while, but when we finally hung up I had this terrible feeling about what had just happened. I lost her, didn’t I? What is wrong with me? Why didn’t I tell Kayla I needed her? Why didn’t I tell her to come back to Washington as soon as she could? Why didn’t I tell her I loved her?
After dinner, I went upstairs to the attic, my retreat, my escape hatch, and I tried to lose myself in the remainder of old files from the time of Maria’s death. I didn’t think too much about Kayla. I just kept thinking about Maria, missing her more than I had in years, wondering what our life could have been if she hadn’t died.
Around one in the morning, I finally tiptoed downstairs. I slipped into Ali’s room again. Quiet as a church mouse, I lay down beside my sweet, dreaming boy.
I held little Alex’s hand with my pinkie, and I silently mouthed the words, Help me, pup.