Whisper (15 page)

“Sure. He’s sleeping, not unconscious. His vitals are good. He’ll be fine.”

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Kathleen Lash

“Thank you.”

“Can I get you anything else? Thirsty? Hungry?” She shook her head. The nurse turned down the lights on her way out. Whisper dozed, waking every half hour or so to glimpse the clock and Keith. A constant stream of broken dreams assaulted her, most of which bordered on nightmare.

The talk she and Mark had earlier, made issues surface in her mind that she’d struggled to bury.

Please don’t let Heather find out.

She heard her ex-husband’s voice, saw his red eyes as he walked toward her.
God damn it, you’ll do
it, Wendy, or I’ll blacken both your eyes.

Already half undressed; she shook when he grabbed her wrists and pulled her from the floor. He demanded she finish taking her clothes off for his
friends
. She’d stopped crying and whining a long time before that night. Sometimes, if she did what he wanted and amused his friends, he’d let her dress and leave the room. Heather wasn’t allowed to go near his “party den,” but with thumping music and yelling men, Whisper always feared Heather might walk in.

Doug received some perverse pleasure in watching her dance for his friends. He loved the lewd comments and reinforcement he’d married a
fine piece of ass
. He’d never let them touch her though. Eventually, she learned he also thrived on making her afraid. The less scared she acted, and the more she pretended to enjoy stripping for their amusement, the less it happened.

A fine performance however, never fully guaranteed a safe retreat when he’d had enough. If she managed to arouse him, he’d make her take care of it. Never in front of others, but at some point, that humiliation probably wouldn’t have mattered much either. More often than not, he’d get angry, and depending on the drug of choice for the evening, 122

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she’d get some attention.

He mostly only hit her where she’d be able to hide the marks. He was a drug addict, but not a stupid one. When she’d gone to the studio with a black eye once, her father casually took Doug in the back room, and beat him senseless. It’d taken a while for him to work up the courage to hurt her again. After her father died, it happened frequently.

Please don’t let Heather walk in. God, let her
sleep through this.

Whisper.
She heard the name and didn’t connect it to herself. In her nightmares, she was Wendy.

“Whisper.”

Her eyes opened and she tried remembering where she fell asleep. A man in a hospital bed came into view and she threw the blanket aside before jumping to her feet. Within seconds, she woke completely and staggered forward.

“Are you all right? Do you need something?” she asked.

When his hand lifted, she held him. He looked so tired. “What are you doing here? Why aren’t you home in bed?”

“You wouldn’t wake up.” She felt strange and emotional and held him tighter. “I don’t like hospitals. We didn’t want you here alone.”

“You’re kidding me, right?” he asked, before a disbelieving smile formed on his lips. “You stayed the whole night?”

She nodded.

“With that shirt you have on, it looks like they admitted you, too.”

“It’s the very latest fashion. All the girls around here are wearing them. You like?”

“Stunning.”

“You’ve got quite the outfit too, I see.”

“Baby,” he said and she leaned closer. “Shut the door and check out what’s underneath.” 123

Kathleen Lash

She smirked. “I guess you’re not feeling too bad.”

“Actually, can you see what they have me hooked up to?”

“Sure.” She read the IV bag. “Saline.”

“Nothing else?”

“Nope. You’re on the salt water plan it seems.”

“No little plunger thing, hooked to a pump thing, that has the best drippy stuff on demand?” She depressed the nurse call button. She knew what he needed. The thought of him on a pain pump made her queasy. They’d hooked her father to one after one of his surgeries. They figured out about his drinking problem with the dosage needed to control his pain.

“What’s wrong?”

“It bothers me. You hurting and needing drugs.”

“It’s not that bad. I’m a baby.” She squeezed his hand. He was a very handsome
baby.

“What were you dreaming about?” he asked.

She kissed his hand, laid it on his stomach, and grasped the rail of the bed. Glancing toward the door didn’t make the nurse suddenly appear. “I don’t remember.”

“You worried about Heather?”

“Always. She’s very pretty, sixteen, and at home with your sixteen-year old brother. Why do you ask?” She’d been dreaming about Heather walking in on one of Doug’s party’s. If there was a God, she hadn’t talked in her sleep.

“It’s still early. You can go get them ready for school. I’ll be fine.”

At only five in the morning, she did still have time. But she trusted Mark to take care of Heather.

Her fingers trembled as she found the courage to make a confession.

“I lied,” she said.

He didn’t say a word and she couldn’t quite look 124

Whisper

at him. Nightmares and Heather were really none of his business, but he’d asked and she’d lied.

“I know,” he eventually replied.

She only confessed because she suspected he already knew. She’d been cornered. She’d been wrong. Some things could be talked about. The care came in giving the right amount of information without relaying too much.

“I’m sorry.”

“I know that too. You’re not a very good liar.”

“Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.”

“Keith?” As she pondered words, he patiently waited. She didn’t deserve his tolerance, even though she’d been untruthful about something insignificant. “Can I tell you something?”

“Sure.”

Brushing hair away from her face, placing it behind her ears, she wet her lips and thought about how much to say. She couldn’t bring the words together.

“Whisper?”

Caring what he thought mattered a great deal.

It shouldn’t. Heather should be her first priority.

She wanted to ask forgiveness for being evasive, hiding facts, and any lies she might tell in the future. She also wanted to warn him she’d been broken, used up, tainted. If she told him the truth, if he ever found out, she’d lose him, and that’s why she couldn’t speak. He wasn’t truly hers to begin with, but for the moment, she liked pretending she belonged with a good man and a family. Heather liked pretending too. For now, they fit in.

“Baby,” he said.

Her eyes closed. She was very tired.

He stroked her hand with his fingertips. “I know you can’t talk about certain things. I understand—to a point—for now. I’ll take whatever you can give and 125

Kathleen Lash

we’ll see what happens. Deal?”
That’s it?
The suffocating feeling lifted and she took in a deep breath. “Deal.” The nurse came in and walked to the side of the bed. Whisper backed away and sat in the chair.

Dizzy with relief one moment, all the happiness faded the next. Solutions to problems didn’t come about so easily, at least not for her.

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Whisper

Keith sat in the Explorer as Mark, Corey, Billy, Nomad and Jade unloaded items into the storage area of the local homeless shelter and food bank.

Heather sat in the passenger seat. She’d wanted to help, but he wouldn’t allow it. The temperatures ran below zero, and the wind chill took them down into the negative double digits. The boys could handle the supplies.

“You do this every year?” Heather asked.

“We’re generally a lot earlier. The week before Christmas is cutting it close,” he replied.

“I wondered why you stored all that stuff in the basement.”

“A few of the local places give us a great price on items that don’t sell. We get four times the product for the price. Whenever they have a clearance, we scoop it up.”

His childhood friend, Miles, came to the driver’s door and knocked on the window. Keith rolled it down.

“Manchester!” Miles poked his head in, glanced down at his leg and laughed. “Corey said you took a beating. Hard to believe you’re actually broke.” He accepted Miles hand for a handshake. “It could’ve been worse, I got lucky.”

“Can you come in for coffee? It’s between meals and I have some time.”

Keith turned off the truck and looked at Heather. “We won’t be here long, honey. Come in and meet the crew.”

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Kathleen Lash

Walking with crutches over ice could be tricky business. Miles and Heather didn’t let him go it alone, with one on each side the whole way until they made it in the door. As fast as the boys unloaded the Explorer and Nomad’s pick up, workers inside scooped up the items to be placed in storage.

In the main dining hall, they took off coats and got comfortable as Miles poured them coffee. Tracey, an older woman working at the shelter, started getting mugs of hot chocolate ready for the kids.

Amidst the confusion, he and Miles had a few minutes alone.

“Will you have enough this year to make it happen?” Keith asked.

“You’d think with the lousy economy, we’d be struggling. The outpouring’s been phenomenal,” his friend, turned preacher, replied.

“I’m glad to hear it. You have enough toys for the kids? Clothes? Anything in particular you’re short on?”

“You’ve done plenty and we should have presents for all of them.” Miles never changed hairstyles. The shoulder length black hair, then striped with gray, smacked of a man stuck in a generation long past. He wasn’t particularly tall, but appeared lofty because he lacked about twenty pounds to be considered an average weight. “I wish we could stretch the generosity out over the whole year.”

“Damn it,” Keith said, “I told you to call if you needed anything.”

“If we ever get critical and can’t squeeze something out of one of the philanthropic donors, I’ll call. Your quarterly donations are more than enough. You’re not rich. Actually, with the accident, I’m surprised you’re here this year.”

“Give it a rest, Miles. You know I’d never fail 128

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you at Christmas.” He sipped on the steaming black coffee. “How many kids this year?”

“Probably a few hundred with the outreach program. A lot of folks are hard pressed.”

“I’ll ask again. Do you have every single kid covered? Any holes you need filled?”

“I’ll manage.”

Keith sighed, reached into his breast pocket to pull out a small pad of paper and pen. “You dumbass, it’s the week before Christmas. I called a few weeks back. You should’ve told me what you needed then so I could get stuff without the crowds.” Miles smiled and rested his elbows on the table.

“Get the kids to shop. Charitable work is good for the soul.”

“Yeah, yeah, spill it. How old, and what size?

Boys or girls?”

“There’s one family in particular.” The pause created a dramatic effect. Miles’ tactics never changed. He wished the preacher would figure out he could just say what he needed. Tugging on heartstrings couldn’t make Keith more sympathetic.

He already felt plenty for kids who didn’t have warm clothes or enough to eat. Remembering Whisper, he also discovered a soft spot for parents who’d been caught unaware and put in tough situations.

Miles interrupted his thoughts by saying,

“They’re the cutest little girls.” Keith sighed. “I don’t suppose you’d bypass the history and just cough up the details. You know, take it easy on me because of this broken leg and all.” Miles laughed. “Shit, Keith, it’s part of who I am. But yeah, I’ll take it easy on you this year.” With the grin on the preacher’s face, Keith braced himself.

“A young woman came in late one night.”

“Here we go,” Keith said, rolling his eyes.

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Kathleen Lash

“She had three little girls in tow. They’re about two and weren’t dressed to be out on a nasty Cleveland night.”

Keith swallowed.
Damn it!
He hated the visuals he conjured sometimes.

“The mom’s being admitted in a few days. She’s got a tumor that needs removed. She’ll be in the hospital two days. She asked if the triplets could stay here. Her husband moved her to Cleveland and split. She didn’t leave Oregon on good terms, so there’s no family she can go to.”

“What day?”

“Come again?”

“When do I get them? You sure as hell can’t handle them here.”

“You’ve taken others and never refused. I appreciate the offer, but you’re not up to snuff yourself. I’d take them, but I already have nine at the house. Jessica wouldn’t understand. They’ll need a lot of care.”

“We’ll manage. I’ll call in some favors.”

“It’d be temporary, maybe a day or two, just until she gets out of the hospital. We’ve got social workers fixing things permanent.”

“As long as it takes. Shit,” Keith really thought about it, “three? Are they out of diapers?”

“No, but you remember how to do that stuff. You had those two boys last year and they weren’t even walking.”

He stopped acting put off and smiled. Holding a little kid, feeding them and caring for little needs had never been a burden. Kids getting arrested, or beaten up, or getting a girl pregnant, made him a little crazy.

“Is that it?” Keith asked.

“That’s what I have so far. You know, the closer it gets to Christmas, the more people come through the door. Are you sure you’ll manage? I could look 130

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elsewhere, but I knew you’d be coming in today.”

“So you planned on me taking them.” Miles’ gaze dropped to his coffee mug. “Yep, I set you up. Actually, when I saw them, you were the first person that came to mind, even with that broken leg.”

“Why?” Maybe he needed to rethink his friendship and commitment to the shelter. He didn’t like being used.

“The girls aren’t very warm with new people.”

“And you thought of me. Thanks a bunch.”

“Keith, there isn’t a kid alive that doesn’t get all mushy when you’re around. God gave you a gift and you damn well know it. The best present you could give these girls is some time.” Miles smiled and gestured toward Heather. “Where did she come from?”