Capture the Wind for Me (41 page)

Even in his weakness, Derek greeted me with a smile so warm, so happy with my presence, that it gripped my heart. “Hey,” he said. Right off the bat, he raised his hand to link with mine. I could not deny him so little. I slipped my fingers into his.

“Hi. How are you doin' today?”

His face flinched suddenly. He closed his eyes, air seeping from his mouth.

“Derek, what is it?”

“Don't know, just pain from the surgery. I didn't take the pill they offered me. I wanted to be wide awake for you.”

“That's no good, Derek, you'd better take it. Want me to get the nurse?”

“No. I can always call her.” He squeezed my fingers gently. “Tell me what's up in your house.”

“Not much.” I gave him Grandma's message, which made him smile.

“Tell me about you,” he said. “How are you feelin' about the wedding now?”

Something about the questions—how easily they came. Derek seemed to have lost his reluctance to discuss hard topics. “They need each other,” I told him. “Very much. Daddy would die if he lost her now. So would Robert and Clarissa. And she's been so good to me, Derek.” I stopped short, realizing I shouldn't have said that. “Good to me” meant helping me with Greg. “Plus, she needs us,” I rushed on. “I see that now. Maybe she needs us even more than we need her.”

He considered my words, his expression twinged with pain. “Yeah. Think you're right.”

We felt silent. The machines blipped, multicolored graphs filling the monitors with his vital statistics. I heard low voices on the other side of the curtain. Probably the man and his daughter, visiting someone. His wife?

“Could you get me a drink?” Derek asked. With my free hand I picked up the cup from the bedside table, positioning the straw into his lips. “Thanks.”

Shoes squeaked across the floor. The nurse greeted the patient in the first compartment, behind me.

“Jackie.” Derek moved our fingers slightly. “I gotta tell you some-thin'. Been practicin' all mornin'. Better come out with it now before I lose my nerve.”

A stillness crept over me. I knew what was coming and wished for some way,
any way,
to stop it. “Okay.”

He licked his lips. “Here goes. I'm makin' you and myself two promises right now. One, I'm goin' to get out of this hospital and be totally better. Two . . .” He hesitated. “Two, I'm goin' to win your heart.”

I froze. In the next compartment, the nurse asked her patient in a loud voice how he was feeling. I heard a feeble answer. Metal clinked, something rattled. I gazed at Derek's battered face and held his hand, and could not find a single word to say.

“Surprised you, huh.” Derek adjusted his shoulders slightly against the pillow and winced. “Here's the thing. Almost dyin' does somethin' to you, Jackie. Don't know, I may have gone on forever and not told you how I feel, but now I think, well, life's too short. Never know what's gonna happen.” He smiled wearily. “Besides, I figure my lyin' in this bed all messed up and you feelin' sorry for me—I might as well milk it for all it's worth.”

I couldn't help but smile. “Shame on you, Derek, takin' advantage like that.”

The nurse's shoes squeaked away from compartment one. On the other side of us, the voices continued in low conversation. Someone backed into the curtain between the beds, and my eyes drifted to its settling folds, seeking diversion. I did not know how I could look at Derek for one moment longer.

“Jackie.”

Reluctantly, I tugged my eyes back to his.

“I love you.”

The words pierced right through me. I could not listen to them. Feeling Derek's fingers in mine, I thought of Greg, and the way he held me; I heard his voice say the very same words. Then I thought of Derek's vulnerability, and the trust he had in me, in himself, to say what he did. Of how much he needed me right now.

“I love you, too, Derek,” I said lightly, as if I misread him, thinking he spoke only as a friend. Instantly, I regretted my tone. Derek didn't deserve that from me, not at all. Not after he'd bared his soul like that.

He moved his head. “No, don't. Don't say it till you mean it like I do.”

“I'm—”

“Don't say anything, Jackie. Just . . . listen.
Please.”

My throat fluttered. I pressed my teeth together.

Derek gave a long sigh. Swallowed. “I need another drink.”

I fetched the cup for him. He drank slowly and long, as if sucking in courage. When he spoke again, it was almost as though he'd read my mind.

“Jackie, no matter what you feel right now for somebody else, I'm the one you should be with.” I noticed he could not speak Greg's name. “You don't need someone who's travelin' all the time, someone whose life is a world apart from yours.” He squeezed my hand with what little strength he possessed. “You need somebody more like you, who understands your life, and who can be with you. That someone is me.”

His words ran out. He sighed again, relieved and, I think, proud of himself. Then he turned down the corners of his mouth, twitched his head as if to say,
So there.

His face blurred.

“Aw, I didn't mean to make you cry. Uh, tell you what.” He tried to tease. “I'll let you pick out my socks.”

“Oh, Derek.” I shook my head. “If I picked out your socks, they'd be like one orange and one green. That was definitely your most interesting pair.”

“Huh?” His brow creased in surprise, whether feigned or real, I couldn't tell. “You mean I've been wearing the same colors for nothin'?”

“Guess so.”

“Why?”

“Because . . . because mismatched socks were you, Derek.”

He studied my face. “I thought you didn't like that me.”

“Well, I . . .”

“See. You didn't.”

“Okay, maybe not. But now I do.”

He blinked his eyes in a
good grief
expression. “Girls. They make no sense at all.”

Wasn't that the truth.

“How 'bout this,” I ventured, trying to draw out the teasing. Thinking surely it was time to go. “Could we just talk about the sock thing later? I mean, with your cast and all, it's gonna be a while.”

Our curtain pulled aside, metal loops slinking against metal. The nurse stuck her head in. “Time's up.” She disappeared, leaving the curtain partly open. I tried to hide my relief.

“Come back next hour,” Derek said, anxiety tingeing his voice, as if he was sure he'd frightened me away for good.

I wiped my eyes, my heart twisting for him. “I'll be here, Derek. Don't worry.”

I couldn't bear to sit in the waiting room for the next forty-five minutes. Emotions rattled inside me, forcing me out the door of the hospital into the sun-baked parking lot. I trudged to Grandma's stifling hot car and drove the short distance to a park. There, I wandered aimlessly under the maple tree shade, watching kids play on the swings and trying to clear my head.

I wished I could go home. I wished I'd never promised Derek to see him all afternoon. I wished I could see Greg. How could I put a stop to this? Derek
needed
me.

Fortunately, the second time I visited Derek we talked about anything else and nothing at all. Looking back, I think both of us had said enough for a while. At 3:00, on my third visit, Derek was woozy from a pain pill, his words slow, long breaths in between. I stroked his forehead, avoiding his stitches, saying maybe he should just sleep.

“Mm, feels good,” he mumbled. “Don't stop.”

He slept through my fourth visit. I stood by his bed anyway, one hand resting lightly on his arm, staring at his face. Praying that God would heal him completely. Then maybe by some miracle, a new girl would come to Bradleyville, turn his head, steal his heart. I told myself that's what I wanted for him. But the oddest thing happened. At the mere thought, jealousy slunk through me like some predator in the night. Of course I denied the feeling. Why on earth would I be jealous?

Five o'clock. Our last visit of the day. Derek was surprisingly alert, the pain momentarily masked by the pill. “Oh, no,” he said, “did I miss one?”

“Don't worry.” I took his hand. “I was here.”

“What did you do?”

I gave a little shrug. “Watch you.”

“Oh.” He winced. “Did I snore?”

“No,” I laughed. “That would be funny.”

“Yeah, real funny. How'd you like to be asleep and tied to this bed, and me watchin'
you
snore?”

“No, thanks.”

“Well, then.”

I shook my head at him. “Derek. Sometimes I don't know what to do with you.”

He inhaled deeply. “Yeah, know what you mean.”

For a moment, we simply looked at each other. He wiggled my hand. “Jackie.”

“Hm?”

“Kiss me.”

My smile wavered. Talk about surprising me. Fleetingly, I wondered just how bold this new Derek would be once he was well. What would I ever do then? I couldn't even handle him in a hospital bed. “Um. Right here? Right now?”

“Like I'm goin' anywhere.”

“I know, Derek, but I mean it's just so . . . sudden.”

“About as sudden as a snowmelt in Siberia.”

I had no comeback for that.

He tugged my hand. “Come on.”

I could feel Greg's ring hanging against my chest.

“If you don't, you're going to leave me lookin' like a total idiot for askin'. Would you want that?”

“I . . .'course not.”

“Then come on.”

Do it,
some foreign voice in my head urged.
It won't matter.

“Okay, how's this,” he said. “I'll close my eyes and wait.” His eyes shut. “See, I'm a sittin' duck.”

It won't matter, Jackie. Just make him happy.

Thinking nothing more, nothing at all, I leaned over the railing and down, feeling Greg's ring swing out from my chest to lie against my blouse. Slowly, I lowered my face to Derek's. His mouth twitched as he felt my nearness. I touched my lips to his, thinking to break away quickly. Instead, inexplicably, I hung there, not breathing. Then I pressed against his lips. He responded, his mouth warm and soft, unshaved hairs tickling my skin. Derek's fingers tightened in mine as we kissed, his chin rising a fraction from the pillow as if he didn't want to let me go.

When I eased away, his eyes remained closed for a moment. Then a lazy smile spread across his face. He sighed with contentment. “That just made everything worth it. I swear I'd wreck my car all over again for that.”

“Oh, please, Derek.” I chuckled shakily. “One accident's enough.”

He regarded me, eyes half closed, lips still curved in that silly smile. He gazed at me for so long I grew self-conscious. “I know,” he said finally, tease in his voice.

“What do you know, Mr. Smart Aleck?”

“You liked it.”

“Well . . . sure. I liked it just fine, Derek.”

“No. You really
liked
it. Me lyin' here in this bed, all messed up, lookin' like a train wreck. And you liked it.” For a moment, he basked in supreme satisfaction. Then he raised our linked fingers, pulling mine across his chest. “Do it again.”

“Derek, come on.”

“Don't make me come outta this bed. You know you want to.”

I can't deny it—I did want to. Not just for Derek's sake, but for mine. Before I knew it, I was leaning down to kiss him again. Somehow it lasted longer than the first time. As I pulled away, I couldn't believe what was happening. What was I doing to Greg? How terrible I'd feel if he ever did this to me!

I can't remember what Derek and I said to each other after that. All I remember is that when I had to leave, he demanded a third kiss.
God, help,
I thought, wanting it and not wanting it.
I have to get out of here.
I simply did not know what to do. I kissed him again, briefly, my stomach feeling jumbled and quivery. I just wanted to run to the car and bawl.,

“Derek.” I ran shaking fingertips down the side of his face. “We can't be alone tomorrow, you know, it's Saturday. Your parents will be here. And on Monday, school starts.” Was I glad about this—or not?

His brow knit with sudden anxiety. “You tryin' to tell me you're not comin' back?”

“No, Derek. It's just . . . of course I'll be here.”

His eyes searched mine, trying to read answers I didn't begin to have. “Thank you for comin' today,” he said finally. “Don't forget my promise. I mean what I said.”

My chest clenched. I had to get out of there
right now,
before I broke down in front of him. “I won't. See you soon, Derek,” I breathed, my voice catching. “Promise.” I squeezed his hand, then fled.

I cried all the way home, Derek's and Greg's voices blending in my mind.

You need someone who can be with you; that somebody is me.

I am afraid you will find someone in Bradleyville, whose life is like yours.

I pulled Greg's ring out from beneath my blouse and pressed it as I drove, reminding myself of whom I loved. My head pounded, and my throat felt like it would never let loose.

Daddy was pulling into the garage from work just as I drove Grandma's car up to the curb. He got out and met me on the sidewalk. I didn't want to talk to him. I didn't want to talk to anybody.

“Honey?” He cradled my quavering jaw with his hand, fear in his face. “Is Derek okay?”

I nodded, shoulders pulled in, eyes on the ground.

Daddy studied me in silence. Then his hand fell away. He sighed deep and long, a sigh full of hurt and love for me. Slowly, he pulled me into a hug and rested his chin on top of my head. “It'll be all right, Jackie,” he soothed. “It'll be all right.”

chapter 46

I
did not visit Derek that weekend. I simply couldn't. But my reasons were so convoluted that I could barely sort them out. Admittedly, guilt proved the overriding factor. I didn't want to talk to Derek in front of his family, especially Katherine. How could I face her in my duplicity, when I had once so judged her own? For surely she and everyone else would see the truth on my face. Then what would they expect me to do—give up Greg?