Woman of Substance (21 page)

She imagined herself in his embrace with her whispering words of love, but those words couldn’t change the grief or mend a torn friendship. She would hold onto her resolve. She was going to demonstrate her friendship to Jake. She kissed him gently on his temple. She untied her laces, tugged her socks over each foot and slipped into her shoes, double-knotted them and left the room.

Robbie drove home and thought about what she wanted. She wanted Jake to accept her friendship and maybe it would lead to love. She wanted to love and be loved.

Jake was right. She needed to be herself. It was time to mend the split between Robbie and Robin. She would have to accept her own package and all the baggage that went along with it. She would need to be mindful of the advantages that it brought to her. As soon as she got home, she would pack up the torso of the body suit.

Jake rolled over toward the spot where he had felt warmth emanating while he slept only to see an empty chair. The folded bedspread now occupied the space. He wandered over to the window in time to watch Robin exit from the building, struggling as the wind whipped at her coat and pulled at the picnic basket. He felt as if everything had been a dream. She was a lithe runner but she was also a round fleshy woman, all breasts, abdomen, and thighs. But she had been there. She didn’t run away from his grief. She didn’t ask him to forget it. She accepted it. Accepted him.

Though desperate for some sleep, he found he couldn’t. Instead he paced around his hotel room and finally his eyes settled on the old locker. He went through his grandfather’s wallet and found a key, then unlocked the clasp and lifted the lid and found a-life-in-a-box. Jake was astounded to find a letter addressed to him in his grandfather’s familiar script. Simple and direct, his grandfather was telling him to discover his own roots, rather than only those of ancient tribes. “Son, you’ll be a better man for it.”

Jake carried the locker over to the table and began an anthropological study, sifting through pages and pictures, attempting to make sense of his past. With a sense of distance and a professional attitude, he laid things out chronologically, in years and decades. His eyes skimmed photographs curling at the corners. There were yellowed envelopes addressed in fountain pen script, both of his grandparent’s handwriting. Love letters, not spilling over with only sentimentality but of shared feelings of apology, and sorrow. It seemed as if Frank and Mabel had kept their love alive with this long lost art of communication.

He crossed his legs and poured some of the red wine that Robin had left behind. The red was like the breast of a robin, the light reflecting through the glass like the twinkle in a bird’s eyes. Although this image was not what he predicted, it was a fitting description of the Robin he knew. She was flashy in an unusual way, with alert eyes that explored her world. She was strong. Even though he told her he couldn’t forgive her deception toward him and Frank the most, she had honored Frank in the shape he trusted. Jake took a big gulp. She didn’t stay away from his grief and approach him as if nothing of importance happened. She came to share his sorrow. His universe did not give him what he expected. He put down his glass and gathered his clothes quickly. He’d left her phone number in his office but he knew where she lived. If her lights were on, he’d knock on her door and tell her he forgave her and he’d like to start over. He understood that the immersion in a culture under study was important because it helped researchers learn. He should have understood that she needed to become less visible and lessen the observer effect. While he put on his pants, he also acknowledged,
I just don’t like to be the observed.
Guess he’d had some of his own medicine.

Chapter 16

Once home, Robbie parked the car in the garage and pressed the button and the garage door groaned with metal against metal while it rolled into place. Mrs. Mitchell’s Christmas lawn ornaments twinkled in the crisp night air. She carried the picnic basket into the kitchen. She didn’t even want to look at it again. She turned on the stove light’s soft glow. Why, oh why, did she have to go to extremes? If she would have visited Jake without the suit, she would probably be in bed with him right now. Her lips puckered with a desire to connect to Jake’s. She leaned her forehead against the cool refrigerator. She could have followed her fingers that had massaged his scalp with kisses on his earlobes, his neck. If she hadn’t resisted the temptation to capture his tongue as it slid across his lips while he relaxed, they both would be comforted by a warm, willing body, right now. Instead, she was home climbing the stairs to her bed all alone. She turned on a bedside lamp and shed her outer shell, her arms sliding from a sleeve that provided dangling triceps, and tugged the torso with a double-D cup away from her body revealing a B underneath. Her nipples were erect and ached.

Stop this. Yes, he is a handsome man, but I need to gain his trust. I want to be his friend first.

She stood under the shower and thought about the friends she’d made during different classes throughout her student days and during the semesters when they helped each other out and then they went their separate ways. Her relationship with Jake was similar to that, wasn’t it? She and Jake learned from each other and helped each other for a time and now it was time to accept this. She vigorously dried her hair. No more thoughts about sharing a bed, a life together with a man she hardly knew. Sure he was kind. Sure he was funny. Sure he wanted a family.

He had traveled and experienced other cultures. Sure he seemed to like her, but so did many other people. He’d probably leave again. There wasn’t anything to hold him here now.

While she cleaned the torso one last time, the cleaning cloth blurred before her eyes. The suit felt as if it had taken on extra weight when she positioned it on the hanger. She gave her teeth a cursory brush and promised to floss in the morning. Once in bed, she tucked the covers under her chin. Her forehead felt hot to the touch. Her stomach ached. She dozed fitfully, only to wake up with a gripping abdominal pain. She rushed to the bathroom and vomited. She lay with her cheek on the cool tub until she had the strength to shuffle slowly back to her bed. Was it something she ate? The moment she put her head down, the room started moving.
Great
, add sick to the list of things wrong with her. She reached for the phone and hit the speed dial for her parents’ home.

Her mother answered with a groggy, “Hello.”

“Mom, it’s me. I feel terrible.”

“Dear, you’d better take this. It’s Robbie. She’s sick.”

She heard the phone clunk a few times as it changed hands.

“Talk to me,” her father stated in his usual brusque manner.

“Dad, I’ve vomited and now I’m so dizzy I don’t think I can stand.”

“Do you have pain in your right side?”

“It hurts all over.” She moaned.

“Listen to me carefully, Robbie. Get up slowly, put your head down, and take some deep breaths. Go to the stairs.”

“Dad.”

“Just go.”

Robbie rolled onto her side and sat up. “I’m going to pass out.”

“No, you are not. Breathe deep.”

“Okay.”

“Crawl to the stairs if you have to.” She felt another wave of dizziness as she obeyed her father. “I’m holding onto the wall.”

“Are you on the stairs? Robbie, stay with me here. Now hold onto the railing. Count out the stairs to me. Keep going, honey. Go to the front door. Unlock it.”

Feeling the world swirling around her, she did as he asked, then said, “Unlocked.”

“Good.”

“Got-to-go-to the bathroom. I’m going to be sick.”

“I’ll be there as soon as I can.”

She dropped the phone into her robe pocket and crab-walked up the stairs. She must not pass out. She must not pass out. Dad lived so far away. She wiped her mouth on tissue, flushed, then put her head down on the bathroom mat.
Just for a minute.
Dad will be here in just a minute.

Jake stopped at curb in front of Robbie’s house. The lights were out.

He hesitated. What was wrong with him? Of course he couldn’t go ringing her doorbell at midnight.

He’d probably scare her half to death. He put the car into first and eased back onto the street. He drove around the park where the fir trees swayed in the wind and past the Care Manor where most of the windows were in darkness. He felt as if he should turn around and go back. Grief did terrible things to the mind. He had the knowledge of death but he hadn’t assimilated the reality into his being as he was being forced to right now. He heard the wail of a siren before he saw the lights flashing. He hoped no one was seriously ill at Care Manor. He watched the lights flash across the park and come to a stop.

Jake accelerated and arrived just as the paramedics were removing the stretcher from the back of the ambulance at Robbie’s house.

“What the hell is going on?” he asked.

“Sorry, mister, you’ll have to stand back.” The man in uniform shouldered him out of his way as his team rolled the stretcher up the walk.

They opened the front door and called Robbie’s name. Jake paced on the front walk.
You should have had her stay with you.
Moisture pooled in his eyes. He yanked the winter hat over his ears, shoved his hands into his pockets, and stood on the front stairs. Stupid pride. Robin, rather Robbie, had never hurt anyone really. Frank was happy.
It was you who felt betrayed. What did she really do to harm you? Nothing
.

He heard the paramedics on their phones talking to someone.

Just then another car pulled up to the curve. A man and a woman ran past him and into the house.

The paramedics exited carrying the stretcher. Robbie was covered by a blanket and belts held her secure. Her head was wrapped in a towel. He stepped forward. “Robbie, I’m here.”

She moaned.

“Step aside, sir,” an attendant instructed.

He moved onto the lawn and watched while they slid the stretcher in the back and closed the doors. The ambulance roared down the street with lights flashing. His head didn’t want to believe what he had seen. Robbie was in an ambulance. Where would they take her?

He heard the front door close and turned to see the man and woman who had run into the house just minutes ago, striding toward their car.

The woman glanced over at him and stopped. “Are you Jake, by any chance?”

“Yes.”

The woman called. “Ron, this is Robbie’s friend Jake that she told us about.”

The man advanced quickly, extending his hand. “Ron and Megan Smith. Robbie’s parents. They’re taking her to the General Hospital. I suggest you meet us there in emergency.”

Ron put his arm through Mrs. Smith’s and they turned toward their car. Jake shifted the Mustang to third gear following their taillights down the city streets to the hospital.

He damned the speed limits and held reins on the Mustang. When he arrived, he imitated the quick purposeful stride he’d witnessed at the manor all these weeks and followed the signs toward the ER.

Robbie woke to clatter. She wriggled her toes, stretched out her legs, flexed her buttocks, and contracted her stomach muscles.
Oh that’s tender
. She stretched her arms and fingers. Where was she? She squinted against the bright light that obliterated the remaining dream fragments where Jake had fed her ice chips on a beach. She closed her eyes again.

When she opened her eyes, Jake was in the same room standing at the window with his back to her. She leaned over a bed rail, “Jake.” He turned and took three giant steps. He scooped her into his arms. Cradling her head against his shoulder, his hand smoothed the muscles along her back. He kissed her sticky forehead. When the heart monitor sounded an alarm, he almost dropped her.

A nurse slid to Robbie’s bedside. “Sir! I need you to step back. Miss Smith, lay back and relax. Your heart’s going to jump out of your chest. Breathe deeply. Slowly. Close your eyes. That’s it.”

A steady beat beeped until Robbie opened her eyes and saw Jake.

“Maybe you’d better leave,” the nurse said.

“No, don’t go,” Robbie whispered. “He’s a friend,” she explained to the nurse. “He surprised me.”

She slid the covers up to her chin. She’d rather burrow under all of the blankets than have him see her like this. But she’d just defended her thesis that said packaging shouldn’t make a difference. If he could see her at her very worst and not run for the hills, then maybe they had a chance. She felt like her bones protruded through her skin and her hair was all greasy and she probably had bad breath.

“A few minutes. No more.” The nurse looked at the clock and then at Jake before she bustled from the room.

“I’m thirsty.” Her tongue felt like sandpaper. “My throat hurts.”

She drank from the blue plastic cup with a flexible straw that Jake held to her lips.

“Your throat will be sore for a couple of days. You were a very sick woman.”

“I remember waking up and feeling awful. I called Dad and he wouldn’t shut up. Kept at me to unlock the front door.”

“While he was trying to keep you conscious, your mom called nine-one-one.”

Robbie struggled to sit up. “Where are they?”

Jake ran his fingers through his hair. “In the cafeteria.”

“This doesn’t make sense. How’d you get here?”

“Guilty conscience.” He shrugged his shoulders. “I couldn’t sleep. I couldn’t call. I still don’t have your phone number in my phone book. I arrived when the paramedics took the stretcher into the house. I was there when they carried you out. I met your parents. They made it to your house and your dad told me which hospital they were taking you or I would have had to chase the ambulance.” His fists opened and closed at his sides. “We were pretty scared.”

“What happened?”

Jake’s eyes connected with Robbie’s. “Food poisoning is the educated guess.” He waited a moment, then added, “I’ve gone over everything we ate. The only thing I didn’t eat was the vegetable dip.”

In that moment, Robbie knew the dip was the probable cause. “I ate nearly all of it. I nibble constantly when I’m nervous.”

Jake chuckled as he leaned onto the edge of the bed. “The woman who defended her thesis in a disguise, nervous?”

Robbie raised an eyebrow. It was the only thing she had the strength to lift. “Last night was different and you know it.”

Jake lightly touched her arm. He didn’t want any more alarms to go off on the monitors. “We’ll talk about that at another time. You need to get stronger.”

“I’m working on it.” She lifted her hand and covered a yawn.

Jake stepped out of the way when her parents came into the room.

“Sweetheart. I was so worried,” Robbie’s mother said while she cupped her hands around Robbie’s face and kissed her on the forehead and cheeks.

When her mother stepped aside, her father wrapped her into his barrel chest. “I knew you’d pull through.”

“This is my fault. If I didn’t carry everything to the nth degree, you wouldn’t all be standing here with sunken eyes from lack of sleep and worry.” She smacked the sheet with her palm.

“As soon as they let you out of here, you’re coming home with us.” Her mother took charge in her usual way. “When do you think that’ll be, Ron?”

Her father ran his hand over the top of his head, like he always did when he concentrated. “Usually within twenty-four hours if there aren’t complications. We’ll cancel our tickets.”

“Oh, no. You’re leaving for the conference tomorrow.” Robbie gasped. “Dad, you’ve worked so hard on that paper. The conference can’t replace you at such short notice.”

“Don’t worry, honey. They always have someone in the wings for unforeseen circumstances.”

“No, I can’t let you do it. I’ll stay here until you get back. I can do with the rest.” She covered her face with her hands and yawned.

“Honey, when you’re discharged, you’re expected to go home. This isn’t a hotel.” Her father’s voice was gentle.

“I can’t leave my little girl.” Robbie caught a glimpse of disappointment in her mother’s deep hazel eyes. She knew how much her parents needed this break and how much they’d looked forward to it.

“Don’t cancel anything right now. Maybe I’ll have a clean bill of health and everything can go as planned.” She straightened her back, raised her chin, and tried to look like a woman in control in her baby blue hospital gown.

Jake stepped away from the window again. “I’ll help out. I’ll look after Robin, uh, Robbie at her house. I’ll make sure she follows any orders.” He met both her parents’ gazes with a firm stance.

Jake stood in the middle of the hospital room and wondered what to do next. He’d made the offer. It was up to Robbie and her parents. Her father looked from him to Robbie and back again. “I’ll track down the man in charge and see what he says. If there aren’t any serious issues, it might work.”

“But who’s going to make soup and make sure she’s safe in the tub?” Megan Smith patted her daughter’s arm.

“I can,” Robbie said.

Jake stepped closer to the bed. “The soup isn’t hard and I’ll listen at the bathroom door.” He pictured Robbie leaning back in the tub with bubbles bursting across her chest. He smiled for the first time in many hours. “I’ll even volunteer to feed her soup in the tub.”