Heroes (Hollywood Heartthrobs #1) (11 page)

          Dean shifted
his weight, trying to step backward without calling attention to it. He smiled
gently. “Thank you, that’s very kind. We’re really lucky to have such a
committed fan base. Without the fans, we’d all be out of work.” Maybe she’ll be
cool, he thought. He had met a lot of fans that were polite, respectful, and
great fun to talk to, but his spidey sense was telling him Miss Kelly was going
to be of a different variety.

She
put a hand on his arm. “So, are you in town long? Suburbia must be such a bore
after the glamour of Hollywood.”

Dean
pretended to scratch the back of his neck to have an excuse to move his arm.
“Actually being home is great. I’m just glad to have some time to visit my
brother and nephews,” he said, wishing the boys would hurry up.

“But
I’m sure Cora, I mean Catherine, must miss you,” Kelly responded, folding her
arms in an obvious attempt to call attention to her breasts.

“Catherine
and I are just colleagues.” Dean said noncommittally.

“Well,
can’t have a guy like Jared getting lonely now can we…” Kelly replied. “Maybe
you and I could meet up while you’re in town, get a drink or something?” 

“That’s
kind of you to offer, but I don’t think so. I’m just home to visit my brother.”

“Oh,
come on, you deserve to live a little.”

          Which one of
us are you talking about, dollface? Dean thought. What he said was, “Listen,
I’m flattered, but I’m also taken.”

          “I can keep a
secret.”

          Oh hell no,
Dean thought. “I’m sure you can, but still gonna be a no.”

          Kelly dropped
her arms and her come-hither expression. She gave a little shrug. “Oh well,
can’t blame a girl for trying.”

          Dean had to
chuckle. “I suppose not.”

          Tucker and
Alec finally emerged from the house, macaroni masterpieces in tow. Ushering
them ahead of him, he felt compelled to turn around. Out of earshot of the
boys, he thought he owed Kelly a small consolation. “One last thing, Kelly. I
really am flattered, and you’re very pretty. It’s just bad luck it was me here
today. If it had been Benedict instead of Jared on your doorstep, you’d get
that drink. You’re exactly Shiloh’s type.” He winked.

          Kelly
grinned. “Maybe I need a new favorite character. But it was nice to meet you,
Dean.”

          Dean followed
his nephews to the car.

***

          Arriving at
the psychiatric facility did nothing to quell Jane’s anxiety. It was an
imposing brick building surrounded by a concrete wall. The wall was topped with
what looked like ornamental iron fleur-de-lis, but Jane had a terrible
suspicion they were to deter people trying to climb over. Come on, she thought
to herself, you’re not Cathy trapped in
Wuthering Heights
here, get a
grip.

          Much like at
the hospital, the driver exited the van first with a plethora of papers to be
signed. After a moment, a cheerful-looking woman opened the door to the van.

          “I’m Nurse
Harmon, you must be our Jane Doe from Chicago General.”

          “Yes, that’s
me, just call me Jane,” Jane answered.

          “Well, Jane,
welcome to Saint Francis. Come with me, I’ll show you to your room.”

          Nurse Harmon
led Jane into the lobby area and through several sets of heavy doors to a small
room furnished with just a bed, a chair, and a closet. The room was on the
ground floor. It had a single window: high, small, and barred shut. Jane also
noticed the furniture was bolted into the floor. To discourage violence? She
wondered.

          “This will be
your room while you’re here,” said Nurse Harmon. “Dinner is at five in the
cafeteria, which gives you a little more than an hour. Would you like to go to
the day room? It has a television.” She spoke like someone used to talking
mostly to very small children.

          “Sure, I
would like that,” Jane said without conviction.

          The day room
did little to brighten Jane’s spirits. Several patients were gathered around
the television watching some sort of talk show. A couple of young women sat on
a sofa talking quietly in a corner. One of them had fresh bandages around both
wrists. Two men played checkers at one of several tables, and at another a man
sat alone with a chess board. The board was set as if in the middle of a game.
Jane wondered idly whether he was playing against himself or unaware that he
had no opponent. Several other patients sat on chairs arranged by the large
(unbarred) picture window. They all simply stared out; a few appeared to be
heavily medicated. For the first time since her accident, her conviction that
everything would be alright began to slip. And to think just a few hours ago
she had been sitting next to Dean, crying over
Henry V
.

          Jane sat down
on an empty armchair somewhat near the group clustered around the television.
She wasn’t interested in the show, but she pretended to be as a means of
discouraging any attempts at conversation. She didn’t feel much like talking.

***

          That night
after dinner, Dean and the boys rode bicycles (Dean borrowed Nate’s) to a
frozen yogurt shop near the house. They were sitting outside with cones for the
boys and a chocolate shake for Dean, discussing serious issues of the day, such
as whether or not Iron Man could beat Batman in a fight, when Tucker piped up
out of the blue.

          “Uncle Dean?
Daddy said you went to see the lady from the accident.”

          Dean looked
at Tucker thoughtfully. “I did.”

          “Is she
okay?” Tucker seemed genuinely concerned.

          “She hurt her
arm pretty bad and now it’s in a cast, but she’s okay. And she’s glad you and
Alec are okay.”

          “Are you
gonna see her later?”

          Dean smiled.
“I told her I would visit her again tomorrow.”

Tucker
nodded. “I was thinking, could you say thank you to her from me? She saved
Alec.”

          Dean felt ice
in his spine that had nothing to do with a frozen drink. What could he say?

          “Sure thing,”
he responded. 

          Tucker went
on, “And can you give her my macaroni art?”

          “What?”

          “The macaroni
art I made at Miss Kelly’s. I want her to have it. As a thank you.” Tucker’s
eyes glowed with the sincerity and depth of feeling only available to the very
young.

          “I’m sure
she’ll love it,” he said, staring down at his nephew.

          Tucker
smiled. “Good. It’s a picture of an elephant. I hope she likes elephants.
Elephants are my favorite animals.”

          Thursday
morning Dean was off again even earlier than the previous day. Samantha had
left for the bakery and Nate would be working from his home office, so Dean
dropped the boys off at Miss Kelly’s. After a private word with Samantha, it
was agreed that Dean could do drop-off, where he would not be expected get out
of the car, but that pick-up should remain Samantha and Nathan’s task.

          He beat the
now familiar path through hospital with the laptop bag slung over his shoulder.
He had brought
Much Ado About Nothing
this time. He strode into her room
without knocking with the unselfconsciously romantic idea that he might wake
her up with a kiss on the cheek. He was therefore extremely surprised to find
what he had known as Jane’s room containing an elderly Asian gentleman laying
on the bed surrounded by what appeared to be a large number of children and
grandchildren.

          Dean blurted
out an apology about having the wrong room and hastily retreated to the
hallway. He looked up and down the hallway, wondering for a moment if he’d
gotten the wrong floor. He looked at the room number. This was it alright. This
was the room. He was suddenly very cold.

          He went up to
the desk at the nurses’ station, and to his great relief recognized Nurse
Freeman. She must work the morning shift today, he thought thankfully.

          “Where’s
Jane?” he asked hurriedly.

          Nurse Freeman
looked at him intensely, as though reprimanding him for not speaking more
calmly. “Excuse me?”

          Dean took a
deep breath. “I’m looking for the patient that was in room 317. The Jane Doe
who was admitted Monday. She was there yesterday, but someone else is there
today.”

          “Right,” the
nurse replied. “I’ve only just come in this morning. I wasn’t aware the patient
had been moved.” She clicked at her keyboard for what seemed like ages. She
looked up at Dean with a strained expression. “The patient has been
transferred.”

          Dean’s eyes
got wide. “Transferred where? Another room? What?”

          The nurse
looked at Dean appraisingly. “I’m not permitted to release patient information,
but I understand your interest in her well-being. I can tell you that as of
yesterday afternoon she was transferred to another facility. One that
specializes in psychiatric care.”

          Anger and
fear bubbled up inside Dean. “Are you telling me she’s been transferred to a
mental institution?”

          Nurse Freeman
didn’t answer, but she didn’t look away from Dean.

          “What
facility did she go to?” 

          “I can’t give
you that information.”

          “Why the hell
not?”

          “Sir, I
understand that you are very upset, but I cannot release patient information to
anyone who isn’t family.”

          Dean’s fear
was winning out over his anger. “You don’t understand, I told her I was coming
back to visit today. Until she gets her memory back, I’m all she’s got.” There
was an edge of desperation in his voice.

          Nurse Freeman
paused before answering. “I am sympathetic to your concern for her, but I need
you to understand that I can’t release that information.” She emphasized the
word “understand” in a way that caught Dean’s attention. He would have been no
actor if he hadn’t noticed the pointed way she said it. She paused for a
moment, then continued. “I’m sorry, but I can’t tell you where she was sent.”
She turned abruptly and disappeared behind a door marked Staff Only. There was
no one else at the station for the moment. Dean tried to think. It hit him
suddenly. Nurse Freeman hadn’t touched the keyboard since she had looked Jane
up! Dean leaned over the counter and turned the screen towards himself. There
it was, highlighted on the patient list. Jane Doe, room 317, transferred Saint
Francis, and an address in Roger’s Park. As quickly as he could without drawing
attention to himself, he turned around and left.

          Dean didn’t
stop his power-walk until he got to the car. Getting in, he slammed the door
with enough force to make him glad he’d paid the extra for the insurance. He
tried to calm himself down. In retrospect, it seemed obvious. Jane had
certainly seemed in blooming health yesterday, she clearly didn’t need the
constant care of a hospital. On the other hand, they couldn’t release her with
nowhere to go. Dean thought bitterly that this must have been what Nurse Angry
wanted her for yesterday. If he hadn’t left, maybe he could have talked to her
after they told her about the transfer. Only one thing to do now, he thought.
He started up the car and drove north towards Roger’s Park.

          The drive to
Saint Francis was not long, but Dean had managed to calm down substantially by
the time he pulled up. His resolve to keep a cool head was tested almost
immediately by the sight of the concrete wall around the building. The place
looked like Arkham Asylum. Jane didn’t belong here. He followed a sign
indicating a visitor’s entrance. His was the only car in the small parking lot.
He went up to the door reading that visiting hours were from 8:30 to 11am and 1
to 4 pm. It was 8:25am.

          He stood
looking at the large brick building. Jane must be terrified, he thought. I
would be.

It
was a fine morning, looking to be another beautiful day. Dean noticed most of
the building’s windows were small and fitted with bars. He imagined the
interior would be gloomy regardless of the weather.

          Around 8:40 a
staff member finally came to unlock the visitor’s entrance door. Dean’s was
still the only car in the lot.

          “Who are you
here to see?” the man asked without preliminary.

          “Jane Doe,”
Dean answered.

          The man gave
an unamused snort. “Real funny, pal. You think this place is some kind of joke?”

          Dean realized
his misstep. “No, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to make a joke. I’m here to see a
patient suffering from memory loss. She’s a Jane Doe.”

          “Oh,” was all
the man said. He gestured for Dean to come into a small reception area.
Consulting a screen, he told Dean there were three patients currently admitted
listed as a Jane Doe, one of whom was currently unavailable for visitors. Dean
didn’t ask what that cryptic remark meant, he just prayed it wasn’t about his
Jane.

          “She’s young,
in her twenties. Brown hair, green eyes. Would have been admitted yesterday
afternoon or evening from Chicago General Hospital.”

          “Oh. Her you
can see.” He handed Dean a sign-in sheet and clipboard. “Sign this, then follow
me.”

          Following the
man through the building, Dean thought that his concerns about this place had
been entirely valid. It felt like a prison: barred windows, locks on every
patient door, they passed one room in which a (thankfully empty) gurney lay
equipped with heavy leather restraints. It did not feel like someplace people
went to get better; it felt like a place people were sent when no one expected
them to get better. Hot righteous anger bubbled up in Dean again.

          They stopped
in the middle of a corridor. The man opened a heavy-looking door that somehow
gave Dean the impression it only opened from the outside. “A nurse will be by
to check on you two in a bit. I’ll leave the door open, if there’s an emergency
press the red call button outside.”

          Dean stepped
inside the small room and saw Jane look up. For a half second he saw the look
of desolate isolation on her face. Then recognition dawned, and the sad
expression melted under a brilliant smile.

          “Dean!”

She
shot up from the bed and nearly flew into his arms; he wrapped himself around
her willingly. For a long moment Jane clung to him like a shipwreck survivor to
a life preserver, the force of her whole body pressed against his chest. He
held her like he would never let go, and answered her unasked question with an
unspoken response. With every fiber of his being, he told her he was here, he
was solid, and she was safe now. He could feel the relief she had no words to
express. It nearly burst his heart.

          “Morning,
sunshine,” he whispered in her ear.

          She responded
without letting go. “I was afraid I’d never see you again. How did you know
where to find me?”

          “Hey, now, I
told you I was coming back. It was pretty rude of you to disappear like that.”
Jane pulled back just far enough to look up into his comforting blue eyes, but
showed no intention of untangling herself from his arms.

          “I can assure
you, it wasn’t my choice to stand you up.”

          “As far as
excuses go, you’ve got a pretty good one.”

          As much as
she didn’t want to show vulnerability, she couldn’t hold it in anymore. And
with Dean’s strong but gentle arms wrapped around her, she finally felt she
didn’t have to. The words rushed out seemingly unbidden.

          “Dean, this
place makes me uncomfortable. I don’t want to be here. I don’t think I’ll get better
here. I don’t know what to do.”

          Dean marveled
at her. Was there anything that she couldn’t approach like some cross between a
warrior and a philosopher? “Makes you uncomfortable? It terrifies the pants off
me and I’ve been here five minutes.” She gave him a small smile.

          His face was
set with determination. As was beginning to be a pattern when it came to Jane,
he had made up his mind without ever realizing he was deciding. His decision
was absolute. “Jane, you don’t have to stay here. You’re not dangerous to
yourself or anyone else, you’re here precisely because you’re fine. They just…”
he trailed off, but she caught him.

          “They just
don’t know what else to do with me,” she said distantly. “I understand.”

          “Do you?” He
paused. “Jane, do you trust me?”

          Stupid
question, she thought with a smile. “Well we did meet with you saving my life
and all.”

          Dean
sidestepped her rationale for the moment. “Aside from that. I mean the person
you’ve come to know over the past few days. Am I someone you trust?”

          “Yes,” she
answered, without the faintest trace of hesitation.

          “Good. Then
it’s settled.” He kissed her softly on the cheek.

          “What is?”
she asked, hardly daring to suppose the answer. She fought down an urge to turn
his head toward her and kiss him properly.

          He smiled at
her. “I need a minute. Wait right here.”

          She rolled
her eyes. “I’m not really going anywhere about now.”

          Dean stepped
out into hall and pulled out his phone. Nate? No, as welcome as Jane would be
at Nathan and Samantha’s, that would invite a great deal of questions. Small
boys were not known for their ability to be tactful. Plus, he admitted, he
didn’t want to have to share her with the whole family just yet. A hotel room
was an option, but not a particularly attractive one. Jane needed a place to
call home for a while, not another temporary encampment. Shiloh! Dean thought.
Of course. Shiloh, Dean’s friend and costar, owned a condo in Chicago. Born and
bred in Los Angeles, Chicago was what Shiloh thought of as a relaxing
Midwestern vacation spot. Dean found that rather hilarious, but it might come
in handy about now. He rang Shiloh’s number. A groggy voice answered.

          “Dean? Hell,
man, you okay? Do you have any idea what time it is?” Shiloh’s usually
energetic voice was thick was sleep.

          “Hey, Shiloh,
sorry, I know it’s early there. I… I have a favor to ask.”

          “What?”

          “Your condo
in Chicago, any chance I could crash there for a bit?”

          “My what?”

          Dean was
becoming exasperated. “Shiloh, it’s early, but I need you to pull it together.
This is important!”

          “Alright,
alright, I’m up. Jeez. What do you need?”

          “Your place
in Chicago, can I stay there?”

          Shiloh
snorted. “I thought you were off with your brother and the rug rats. Suburban
paradise lose its luster for you already?”

          “It’s not
like that.” Dean paused. He’d have to explain at least part of it. “I wouldn’t
be there alone. I sort of met someone.”

          Now Shiloh
laughed out loud. “Oh I see how it is! You need a love shack! Can’t take a hot
piece of ass back to the Brady Bunch, can you?” Dean’s hand curled into a fist
at the “hot piece of ass” comment, but he let it go. “Sure, man, no problem. I
got your back. I’ll call the doorman, let him know you’re coming. He’ll let you
in, then the spare keys are in a dish on the kitchen counter. Just do me a
favor and sanitize any flat surfaces you play hide the kielbasa on, okay?”

          Leave it to
Shiloh to act like a teenager until age thirty.