Chapter Thirty-Eight

Over the next several days, both Kendall and Zach spent more time at the hospital than at home. Zach went back to relying heavily on his dependable, experienced staff to keep his casinos running smoothly, while Kendall and Greenlee relied completely on Simone to keep Fusion going. While Miranda remained in the pediatric ICU, normal life as they knew it had ceased to exist. There had been little enough normal about their lives in the week prior to Miranda contracted meningitis, but dealing with her condition took precedence over everything else…even memorial services for Miranda's mother, grandmother, great-uncle, and cousin. Even custody suits.

For a time there would be good news: Miranda's temperature would wane, raising hopes that the most immediate crisis was finally past. Then it would wax again, along with everyone's fears and anxieties. Finally, on the morning of the fourth day, her temperature was normal, and stayed normal. The meningitis was in retreat.

But as Joe Martin reminded them there was still a long road ahead; Miranda would need at least three more days of antibiotic treatment to make certain the infection was completely cured before facing the three days of chemotherapy preparation for her bone marrow transplant…a transplant whose donor was still unknown, adding to the strain felt by all.

Through it all Miranda remained serenely oblivious in her enforced slumber as the drugs and the machines did their work, a state Kendall sometimes envied her. Whether she sat beside Miranda's crib as the little girl slept on in her isolation room, or fidgeted nervously outside in the waiting area waiting to go in again whenever Zach, Greenlee or, less often, Ryan came out and it was her turn again, Kendall felt as if she were living in a state of suspended animation anyway. After several days spent in the sobering hospital atmosphere, even the routing of J.R. seemed indistinct now.

She sat now in the sun room at the far end of the corridor from the pediatric unit. Off the beaten path, it tended to be less populated than the regular waiting room, especially in the evening. She'd needed to escape Ryan's perpetual glower while Greenlee was sitting with Miranda. Some hours earlier, upon checking his voice mail messages, Zach had departed for what he said would be a brief meeting, although he had not returned yet.

Zach. Kendall found her thoughts straying to her fiancé, in what was becoming an almost involuntary action—and not only because they were spending so many hours a day together. Their hours together devoted to Miranda were unavoidable. As for the rest…the hours they spared away from the hospital to take care of their own needs…in a way Kendall never could have foreseen until, she supposed, a dire emergency like this put her preconceived and wrong notions to the test, her time with Zach was fast becoming the most real, yet secret, part of her existence.

As an empathetic lover he was unparalleled and their stolen hours of lovemaking had come to feel as vital to Kendall as eating and sleeping, but it was more than that. Around other people, Zach's walls remained stationed at varying heights; with her the walls that had come down, stayed down, with the effect of creating an ease between them, an ease to which Kendall couldn't help responding.

Unlike so many other—if not all—of the men she'd known, Zach never judged her and found her wanting, never forced her into a defensive position, never stored up her mistakes to use against her. He never forced her into an unnaturally exalted position she could never live up to, either. Both attitudes were as liberating and addictive in the long-term as the most intensely explosive physical release was in the short-term. He's just so…so Zach-ish, Kendall thought, knowing perfectly well what she meant by that and also knowing perfectly well she could never adequately explain it to an outside party. The closest analogy was Zach's ability to render things down to their essence, which both exposed and obliterated any associated bullshit.

Along with everything else, though, her marriage to Zach had been put on hold, although their engagement had by now made the headlines. Myrtle had been the first to express her feelings, the day after the aborted wedding when Kendall and Zach had returned to the hospital after their altercation with J.R. to find Myrtle in the waiting room with Ryan.

"Why, Kendall honey! You could have knocked me over with a feather when I heard!" Myrtle had beamed, enveloping Kendall in a heartfelt hug redolent of English violets and even sniffling back a few tears.

"Oh, Myrtle, I'm so sorry for not calling when we got in last night," Kendall had apologized, feeling rather terrible she'd forgotten all about Myrtle, and that Myrtle had had to learn such surprising news from Ryan of all people.

Myrtle had immediately responded with, "Don't you dare apologize to me, darlin'. You've hardly had time to draw breath with all the worries you've had. It makes no difference to me who got to me first. But"—and Myrtle's eyes had twinkled like Fourth of July sparklers—"I have a bone to pick with you, Zach Slater! Aren't you the sly rogue sweeping Kendall off her feet and keeping it under your hat?"

That remark had earned Myrtle a crushing embrace from the sly rogue himself, triggering more sentimental tears over how you never knew where or when love was going to tap you on the shoulder, or whose hand it was going to tap you with when it did.

Fooling Myrtle had given Kendall one of her very few twinges about the deception. Myrtle was the one person who deserved to know the truth—which was exactly what made it impossible to share it with her. How could they expect the honest, forthright Myrtle to protect their secret—to lie for them—even if she wholeheartedly agreed the ruse was a just and necessary one?

As the word spread, other Pine Valleyites who might not have considered offering support in person to the aunt and uncle of a hospitalized toddler found it served as an excuse to approach Kendall with their opinions of her sudden engagement. This day in particular had welcomed a number of visitors to the pediatric ICU.

"Of course, Kendall, your mother was also an expert at juggling men, er, many things," came from Mary Smythe, Greenlee's even more caustic mother who, herself, was also expert at juggling men, especially wealthy ones. "So congratulations on landing a man at a time like this. Didn't your mother also believe in keeping it in the family? And I think anyone so the cutting edge as Erica was would surely not expect her own daughter to observe anything so obsolete as a mourning period."

"My mother would understand exactly what I am doing and why," Kendall had replied firmly. Inside she was shaking, but a hospital waiting room was not the place to start a cat fight. Erica would have understood doing whatever it took to get custody of Miranda, and what else really mattered?

"Like mother like daughter, I suppose," Mary had sniffed, giving every appearance of eyeing Kendall's slender waistline for evidence of a bump before departing, before Kendall could point out that Greenlee was proof against that proverb–for Greenlee was generally less intolerable than her mother.

Then there was Adam Chandler, J.R.'s father and twice husband to Erica, whose opinion Kendall respected slightly more than his son's. "What is this all about, Kendall?" he'd asked in that falsely avuncular way he had that went with his silver thatch of hair. "I can't imagine why you'd go against your mother's wishes to marry a hoodlum like Zach Slater, Kendall, but you can be honest with me. Is Slater blackmailing you?" Adam had sounded almost hopeful.

Well, that was marriage as the Chandlers understood it—how very short a distance the acorn had fallen from the tree. Adam's unknowingly ironic question might have made Kendall break into hysterical laughter if she hadn't been in such close proximity to nurses with ready access to hypodermic needles and tranquilizers. "Of course not, Adam. Zach is not blackmailing me."

"Then why are you marrying that…ruffian?" Adam had persisted with a subtle shudder. "You know Erica would never approve. I shouldn't need to remind you his brother Michael stole Chandler Enterprises right out from under me, and—"

"You're so right, Adam. You don't need to remind me," Kendall had said coldly. "I'm marrying Zach because I want to and luckily for me he feels the same way."

On the other hand, Opal and Palmer Courtlandt had stiffly offered their best wishes, no doubt arm-twisted into it by Myrtle. "Well, Kendall, I just hope you know what you're doin'. Myrt and I do enjoy playing the slots at his casino, though. So I wish you and Mr. Sl—Zach all the best," Opal had said dubiously.

"As do I, and I would have said so immediately, if Opal didn't always try to get in the first word. But I was only joking, you know, Kendall, that night I accused you of being in love with Slater. I hope you didn't really take me seriously." Palmer had actually looked as if he was afraid Kendall might have.

Because they were Erica's oldest friends, Kendall had tried to give them credit for meaning well.

One trait all the visitors apparently shared was the instinct for timing their visits during Zach's absence. Kendall was just as glad of it; she suspected his presence would not have enhanced any of the encounters. But oh, what an even longer freaking day they had helped turn it into. The wall clock beside the door now read seven-thirty, and she was hungry. Zach, where the hell are you? Kendall fretted.

A lidded Styrofoam cup suddenly swam into her field of vision and came to a stop beneath her nose, conveyed by a large hand with long, strong fingers, a hand she had come to know very well. Lifting her eyes, Kendall discovered its owner gazing down on her with a serious expression. In his other hand he held a second cup which he also extended to her.

"Pick one," Zach said.

"Zach, thanks anyway, but I am just so coffeed out—"

"Go ahead. Pick one," he repeated.

Rolling her eyes, Kendall took from him the nearest cup and popped the lid. "Ice cream!" she exclaimed in surprise.

"Frozen yogurt. Here's a spoon." Zach pulled two plastic spoons wrapped in napkins from his jacket pocket and handed one to her.

Kendall dug in. "Mmm, and you even got chocolate, too. Don't tell me you got this from the cafeteria—the frozen yogurt machine's always empty whenever I try it."

"You need to be more persuasive. But I didn't know if you preferred chocolate or vanilla. I had them make a fresh batch of each."

"But you made me pick one without knowing which was which."

"You got the chocolate on your first try."

As tired as she was, Kendall laughed. "I swear to god, Zach, you must be psychic. I just now noticed I was hungry and I don't have the energy to eat food with texture. Then you deliver like magic something I don't even need to chew."

"Before you dig in, tell me how Miranda is. Lavery was in the waiting room but you know what? I've had my fill of talking jackasses for the day."

"Ha. Tell me about it," Kendall replied fervently. "Well, I'm glad you figured out I was in here. Miranda's been the same all day. Her temperature's staying down and there's really nothing else to report."

A smile briefly lit up Zach's face. They ate in silence for a few minutes before Kendall realized she was really the only one eating. Not only was Zach not eating or pretending to eat, he suddenly looked to be a million miles away. "You're quiet, Zach," she commented. "Or did you decide I'm a talking jackass too?"

"Kendall…." He paused.

She put down her cup of frozen yogurt. "Zach, what is it? You were gone for a pretty long time. Did something happen at the casino?"

"My meeting was there. The meeting didn't concern the casino." He stood up and started pacing back and forth, tracing ever wider arcs in the industrial carpet.

"Will you please stop doing that, Zach? You're making me even more nervous than I was." Kendall patted the seat beside her that he'd just vacated. "Sit down and tell me what's going on before my imagination goes into overdrive—and boy, do you know it can."

"Finish your yogurt before it melts."

"Zaa–ach!" Kendall almost shouted in frustration. "You can't fob me off with yogurt!"

"Kendall, I don't want to talk about it." Zach sounded wearier than she'd realized at first.

"What, you don't think my day was shitty day too? But I have no intention of sparing you a single gory detail. For starters I'll have you know that half of Pine Valley trooped through here giving me the third degree."

He stopped in his pacing. "The third degree about what?"

"What else?—you and me, of course. They're awarding us Pine Valley's Couple of the Year trophy." Kendall tried to glare but somehow simply couldn't arrange her features in one. It wasn't that Zach's walls were up, exactly, because he wasn't deadly calm. But by pacing he made a moving target she couldn't hit. She couldn't seem to hit it even when he wasn't moving.

Zach looked away. "I'm sorry you had to face that ordeal alone."

Kendall sighed. "Well, we're not supposed to be joined at the hip all the time, Zach. And…." She went to where he stood and stood directly in front of him. "I'm not a nag who needs to know about every second of your day. But, as you very well know…I don't take kindly to being shut out."

He rubbed the back of his neck. "Is that what I'm doing?"

"Yep—and after such a good start, too, with the yogurt presentation. But remember, Zach, we don't really have the luxury of me pulling information out of you like I'm a plumber and you're a clogged drain."

"You are a nag." Before Kendall could protest she found herself wrapped in Zach's arms and heard him add, "My irresistible force." Then, before she could change gears and relish the embrace, he held her slightly away from him. "Kendall, my meeting was with the Cambias board of directors and their legal counsel."

"Cambias? What did they want with you, Zach? I knew you were trying to break your father's will and take Cambias back from Ethan. Ethan used to rant and rave about it. But…but you don't need to do that anymore," she finished quietly.

"You know it wasn't Cambias I wanted, don't you, Kendall?" Zach searched her face.

"I lived with your fight every day, Zach. I didn't want to admit it but I could also see Cambias ruining Ethan—or so I thought. What I didn't know was Ethan was already ruined." Kendall gave a bitter little laugh.

"Kendall, I'm sorry—"

"No, please don't be. I'm over it. It's just that I hate to be made a fool of and Ethan made a big one of me."

"Ethan was the fool. In more ways than one. You see, Kendall, he left no will. And he had no children. So the inheritance laws of this state automatically make me, as his only known parent, Ethan's sole heir."

"Oh, Jesus, Zach. Jesus," Kendall shivered. "No wonder you're upset."

"I now own Ethan's share of Cambias without lifting a finger," Zach said simply.

"And you don't want it now, any more than you ever did?"

"I don't have to take it. But it seems Ethan was steering a real course of disaster at Cambias. He understood nothing about business—or people. The company's gone into a real nosedive. The board is asking me to come in and reverse it."

They looked at each other. Kendall understood to some extent what was being asked of Zach, and what he was being offered as well. The opportunity to reposition Cambias on the map in an effective way, to take back the name he was born with and burnish it to a new and positive luster reflecting Zach's face, not the faces of his tyrannical father, corrupt brother, or weak son. But was that an ambition Zach had ever aspired to?

"Did you give them an answer yet?" Kendall finally asked.

Zach shook his head. "We went round and round. Ultimately I didn't. I wanted your input."

"You have a funny way of asking for it!" Kendall threw up her hands. "What am I going to do with you, Zach? You say you want my input—and then won't tell me on what!"

"She shoots, she scores." The side of Zach's mouth curved into a half-smile "I expected discussing this between us to be awkward."

"Because of Ethan? Okay. I understand that," Kendall said more softly. "And I really am flattered you care what I think. But right now I couldn't put two coherent thoughts in a row to say what that is. Can I sleep on it?"

His voice lowered. "On one condition. Include me in the sleeping arrangements."

The tremor that rippled through Kendall had nothing to do with fatigue but before she could reply their tête-à-tête was interrupted by Greenlee's tactless arrival.

Greenlee was blessedly brief and to the point. "If you can manage to tear yourselves away from each other for once, you need to come with me and Ryan up to Joe's office. He just sent word down that he wants to talk to all of us right away."