Chapter Forty-One
Kendall leaned back in one of the comfortable recliners provided for visitors in Zach's private, upscale hospital room and tried futilely to calm her racing mind. In contrast to her agitation, although the final effects of anesthesia were slowly fading from his system, Zach was still groggy—and Kendall almost envied him. She wasn't sorry he was incommunicado. The longer, the better: She still hadn't a clue what to say to him when he came to, even more so now than before he went into surgery. Greenlee had given her what should have been such good news. It was good news, really, for both Greenlee and herself and, by extension, Zach.
So, how to break it to him?
Guess what, Zach? The custody battle is over even before it began! Just like in the movies! Greenlee's having her own baby. That means a happy ending for everyone. She's getting her own kid so she's letting me have Miranda. And that means J.R. is screwed and that you don't have to marry me. Isn't that just great?
No, she couldn't pull that one off. Try again….
Zach, I just got the biggest surprise! Turns out Greenlee's pregnant and—even bigger surprise!—she's already lost interest in raising somebody else's kid alongside her own perfect little miniature Greenlee or Ryan in that designer nursery of hers. Especially a kid with medical problems. Miranda automatically defaults to Auntie Kendall, who doesn't need a pretend husband to make her respectable anymore. You and I can go ahead and shitcan our engagement now.
Nor that either…then how about this? There's good news and bad news, Zach. The good news: Greenlee's dropping the custody battle for Miranda. It's interfering with her morning sickness. Morning sickness, Zach! She's pregnant with her own kid! The bad news is…well, there really isn't any bad news, I'm afraid. I'm getting what I wanted, I don't have to go to court, J.R. is out of the picture, and as for you…you don't have to marry me. But we can work out a generous visitation schedule for you and Miranda. Don't worry, you can see her whenever you want.
Fuck, Kendall swore. How can I do this to Zach? Cut him loose while he's recovering from surgery, after all that he's done for both Miranda and me?
That wasn't the only reason for her turmoil, though. Not by a long shot.
It's not even so much that I can't do it to him—it wasn't his idea to get married—he was only doing the decent thing and going along with me. We both knew it was only for show. But still, he was just so…decent about it. So it's more like—like how can I do this to me? I like being engaged to Zach. I like us being aligned. Okay, I more than like it. It just doesn't feel like it's for show anymore. Am I being delusional?
She must be crazy. Since when did make-believe turn into a reality show? But the admission still had to be made, the truth had to be faced; the realization hadn't exactly come to Kendall out of the blue. It had been there almost from the start, in the hotel room in Virginia, easy to put aside, until put it to the test. You could ignore reality up to that point. Now… the reality was poking through what she'd presented as a sham, and the sham was crumbling. The great goddess Greenlee had spoken…again.
The custody battle no longer loomed. Kendall no longer needed the sanctity of marriage to cover up her sins, no longer needed the pretense of that highly touted and exaggerated stability to please the court, no longer needed a marital partner whose blood tie to Miranda was as undeniably strong as her own…now even stronger, an honest little voice inside Kendall's head said, to fortify her claim to her motherless niece. Miranda was close to being hers now without all that, a semi-miracle wrought while Zach slept unawares…. Yes, just how great was that?
Zach was stirring now, more noticeably. Kendall slammed down the footrest of her recliner with unnecessary force, stood up, and walked over to the bed, which she had avoided initially so as not to disturb him. Most likely only her overdramatic imagination colored his face with such heart-clenching post-op pallor, not its proximity to the bleached sheets beneath the artificial light, so that his hazel eyes, though behind lids still half-closed, seemed unnaturally deep and bright.
"Well, hello, sexy," she said in a low voice. "I was getting bored. About time you stopped playing possum."
Zach merely closed his eyes and groaned.
"Oh geez, Zach, I'm sorry!" Kendall immediately felt contrite about teasing him but it had seemed the safer approach. "Does it hurt very much?"
"No." His voice was raspy. "Mir—Miranda?"
"She's okay, Zach," she assured him quickly. "They're keeping a really close eye on her. They're always doing something to her whenever I try to go in to see her now, you know. So I'm pretty much staying out of the way."
His eyes opened a little wider. One of his eyebrows appeared to rise. "Annoying me instead."
"Whose fault is that? I mean, you are so…so annoyable sometimes." She went back to teasing. Again…it was safer.
"'Annoyable'…is not a word, Kendall."
"No? I hear it's already been printed under the picture of your backside they have hanging up at the nurses' station. That's how impressed they were with it."
Zach's eyes closed, but his lips curved slightly. "Really. The word…or the backside?"
"What do you think?" she asked saucily. "A picture's worth a thousand words. Oh, Zach…."
"What? Are you hiding something?"
Damn, he was too alert already. Kendall needed to turn her head to hide the sneaky tears suddenly springing to her eyes, and stifle an insistent yawn. "It's just been a long day."
"And you never went home. Did you?"
"Hell, no. No way was I going to leave until it was over and I knew you were okay." The latter words escaped on their own; Kendall couldn't hide her feelings of relief.
"Over for me," Zach said slowly. "Not for Miranda."
"She's come so far—we've got to believe when she gets your bone marrow she'll be cured. She'll come the rest of the way because of you." Kendall took a deep breath. Now or never, she thought. "And when Miranda is healthy again, when this is all behind us…Zach, I had lunch with Greenlee today—"
Just then a young nurse advanced into the room, interrupting Kendall mid-speech and drawing Zach's attention away from her. The nurse went about connecting his IV line to a pain-control medication pump, carefully demonstrating how to use it, a demonstration which Kendall followed closely. "Mr. Slater, press this button here to get a dose of painkiller whenever you feel you need one after the local starts to wear off. Let's see, your operation was how many hours ago? Three?"
"No, four," Kendall put in authoritatively, answering for Zach. "When will he start feeling it?"
"All right, then his local won't last much longer, Mrs. Slater."
"Do I really need that?" Zach asked doubtfully.
"Believe me, Mr. Slater, after the procedure you had you'll be glad to have this little pump handy," the nurse replied, patting it with a cheeriness Kendall mistrusted. "We've never had any complaints."
Suspiciously, Kendall asked, "What kind of drug is in that thing?"
The nurse replied more matter-of-factly, "It's a morphine drip."
"Morphine?" Kendall repeated, the word conjuring up frightening images of hollow-eyed drug abusers. "Morphine? You still give patients that? Isn't morphine addicting? There must be something safer you can give him!"
Both the nurse and Zach looked at Kendall in surprise. "Mrs. Slater, morphine's an effective painkiller and an overnight stay isn't long enough for anyone to get addicted. Besides, the pump is set so your husband can't self-administer over a certain level per hour," the nurse explained.
"But—"
Zach cleared his throat and Kendall caught his eye. "Someone's trying to remind me that you're the medical professional," she muttered to the nurse. "Sorry."
"We often hear that concern, Mrs. Slater. But it's perfectly safe or we wouldn't use it," the nurse said patiently. "Now, another nurse will be in shortly to take your vitals, Mr. Slater. If you experience any problems before then, let her know, or use the call button by your bed to notify one of us."
"Joe told me I was spending too much time at the hospital and I guess he was right," Kendall admitted once the nurse was gone. "I'm becoming as obnoxious as Greenlee. Oh, and speaking of—"
"She called you Mrs. Slater, Kendall," Zach interrupted.
"Er…I know. It didn't seem worth the effort to set her straight since you won't be here that long, Zach. And it won't hurt to let her think you have a wife running interference for you while you are here, either," Kendall added defensively.
An amused expression curved Zach's lips into a real smile even as he winced. "Do you think I can't run my own?"
"Of course not!" she burst out. "Look at you. You're already eyeing that drug pump machine. Zach! You are hurting, aren't you? Just admit it."
"Hmm…a little," he finally said tersely.
"Wow, we're making progress, Zach. Admitting that probably hurt big, bad, macho you more than a dozen holes drilled over your impressive butt in the first place." Kendall tried teasing again. But his admission of pain hurt her, too, more than she could have ever believed possible, and she sought refuge in more flippancy.
"Kendall, your bedside manner…."
"What? Stinks? Too bad. You're stuck with it."
He managed another very brief smile. "I wouldn't change a thing." When she was silent Zach asked, "Make you blush?"
Ignominiously, she was blushing. Just how far gone was she, when an innocent remark from a man emerging from general anesthesia instantly brought to mind her last session in bed with him? "It's just…kind of warm in here. Maybe they need to turn the heat down. Look, Zach, do you want to try a dose of the morphine now? Here, I'll push the button for you. Say when."
"Kendall, wait. Before it kicks in—"
"There you go, Zach. Remember, the nurse said you can't overdo it so—"
Entirely unexpectedly, he said, "We should have carved out time to marry before this."
Kendall sucked in her breath. "How? There's hardly been time to breathe in the past week. Besides, Miranda—"
"Can spare us half a day."
"Zach…what's brought this on?" she asked somewhat nervously. "There was no question before of us waiting until Miranda was on the mend."
He paused. "This. Surgery went without incident. But if it hadn't, you'd be unprotected."
"But you're okay, Zach! You're okay, thank god, so I'll be fine. In fact—"
"You can never be sure of that, Kendall."
She smiled down at him, genuinely earnest. "Don't worry—it's not like you, Zach. Come on, just concentrate on getting better now, and think of Miranda healing too."
"We can't take another chance," he insisted. "When I'm released tomorrow—let's go back to Virginia. Let's make this legal."
Quit stalling. Tell him that's unnecessary now. Tell him about Greenlee, before there's another interruption or you loose your nerve, Kendall's conscience nudged. But forming the words to decline Zach's suggestion, a suggestion he deserved to know she now had no need or right to accept, was so difficult. Because whether or not she had the need or the right to accept, she had the unreasonable, uninvited, and unholy desire to marry him anyway. Still, she opened her mouth.
"Kendall, honey, if you don't take this gallant gentlemen up on that tempting offer, I may have to volunteer myself as a substitute!"
"Myrtle!" Kendall cried as the older woman entered the room. "What are you doing here?"
"Why, honey, I just dropped by the hospital to see if I could catch you for an update on Miranda. Joe helped me track you down here and of course I wanted to give Zach my regards if he was up to a visit." Myrtle sounded a little hurt at Kendall's unintentionally less than enthusiastic reception.
"Myrtle," Zach said from the bed. "It's good to see you." Kendall stood back as Myrtle leaned over and gave him a lip-smacking kiss on the cheek.
"Not as good as it is to see you. It's a wonderful thing you did for Miranda, Zach honey." Myrtle sounded almost tearful. "I won't stay long, Kendall. I just wanted to see for myself how Zach were doing."
"Tired, that's all," Zach said a bit wearily.
Kendall put in, "He's on a morphine drip, Myrtle. I think it's starting to knock him out."
"Plenty of rest is what the poor man needs right now, Kendall. From the sound of things I walked in on, he'll need his strength tomorrow. I love a good elopement," Myrtle all but winked.
"Zach is too out of it to realize what he's saying," Kendall began. "The only place he's traveling tomorrow is home."
"Hear how she underestimates me, Myrtle," Zach said, unfairly.
"I do not, Zach." Kendall momentarily forgot Myrtle was there and that the reason for their marriage was now moot. "You've overestimating yourself. You're only a few hours removed from surgery. One of us has to be realistic."
"That would be me, Kendall." Zach's voice regained some of its power.
"Oh, you two!" Myrtle broke in indulgently. "Wait until you're married to start squabbling like an old married couple. I see no sense in putting the kibosh on Zach's plan until you see how he feels in the morning."
Kendall decided to back down in this battle she was currently losing. Zach's condition in the morning wouldn't affect the situation at that time any more than it did now, but only she knew that. "No fair! I'm outnumbered. Okay, we'll leave it until then. But don't forget"—she glanced at Zach—"it works both ways. If you feel like crap in the morning, then I put the kibosh on it." And if you don't feel like crap, I still put the kibosh on it, she thought sadly.
"Fair enough," he conceded.
"Kendall honey, why don't you and I go get a bite to eat, and let Zach start resting up for the big day tomorrow? If I know you, I'll bet you're just starving."
"Myrtle, will you see to it that Kendall goes home?" Zach asked unfairly, before Kendall could respond to the older woman. "She's been hanging around here all day without a break."
"Well, of course I will! Come on home with me, Kendall honey? You look as worn out as your man over there. I made a kettle of chicken soup this morning. I'll stir up some dumplings and you'll be good as new."
"Dumplings?" Kendall asked faintly. "Sounds delicious, Myrtle, but I—I don't really do dumplings. I'd rather stay here even if Zach wants to get rid of me."
"Nonsense, Kendall," Myrtle chuckled. "Zach means it for your own good and you're coming with me. I won't take no for an answer."
Hearing the faintest laugh coming from Zach, too, Kendall turned to glare at him for siding with Myrtle for the second time during Myrtle's visit. "Myrtle's serving up dumplings and I feel like chopped liver," she muttered.
"Humor me," he said softly.
"But I need to talk to you, Zach, alone. It won't take long, and—"
Suddenly another voice was added to the mix. A new nurse entered the room. In the ensuing introductions, explanations, and instructions, Kendall found herself expertly maneuvered out into the corridor. She had opportunity to do little more than say a quick, unsatisfactory goodnight to Zach before being whisked away by Myrtle. Victorious Myrtle was clearly delighted at carrying out this one of Zach's wishes.
Why keep fighting it? Kendall asked herself in resignation. She'd tried to do the right thing, tried to bring up Greenlee's change of heart with Zach; was it her fault alone that fate kept intervening to stymie every attempt? The various arrivals of nurses and Myrtle, Zach's distracting changes of subject—all conspired against her in the matter.
Defensively, Kendall glanced down at her beautiful, sparkling, ring. So I'll have one more night of being engaged to Zach. One more night of wearing all these rocks. How can that hurt? It's not as if we aren't already engaged under false pretenses. This just adds another layer. I'll tell him as soon as I can.
But in addition to that exigency weighing on her heart and mind, here she was going home with poor deluded Myrtle, determined to treat her and Zach as the unlikely heroine and hero of an improbable romance novel. As much as she loved Myrtle, this was going to be as long an evening as it had been a day..