Chapter 34

Friday, June 19, 1987 –Morning

Donovan studied the mess of floppy disks on his coffee table and the cardboard boxes on the floor. He assumed Julie must've persuaded Maggie to bring them to her. Donovan wasn't so much bothered by Julie's resolve to search for her treasured information, but the fact the surgical mask he'd supplied her with was nowhere in sight. Julie slept on the couch. Donovan leaned close to her, listening to her breathe. She sounded better than she had when he'd brought her home earlier, and he was relieved.

He walked into the kitchen, intending to have a couple beers before turning in. He hadn't returned Sean's call from work, but planned to call him in the morning instead.

He opened the fridge and pulled out a can of Coors.

"Mike," Julie called from the living room.

Damn, she's awake.

"Yeah?" Opening the beer, he glanced at Julie, standing in the kitchen doorway wearing a white, cotton gown. Her silhouette showed through. "I thought you were asleep."

"Did you call Sean?"

"Tomorrow." He put the can to his lips and savored the cool liquid as it rushed into his mouth.

"Why didn't you tell him I'm staying with you?"

He shrugged. "Haven't had the chance."

"Do you think he'll mind me sleeping in his room?"

"Doesn't matter. My house. My rules."

"Were you being inflexible? Is that why he got into trouble?" She inhaled. "Or did you put him in O'Brien Center?"

"No, I didn't," he snapped, then realize his sharp answer would incite more questions from her and he wasn't certain how much he should share, or how close he should let her get to the situation. He thought of a diversion…

Smiling, he asked, "So, how come you chose Maitland over me?"

She rolled her eyes.

"Hey, you answer my questions, I'll answer yours." He chuckled.

She drew a breath. "You said you… understood, Mike."

"Right. No point in rehashing what can't be changed."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

He ignored the question. "How come you're sleeping on my couch and not in Sean's room? That wasn't the deal."

"Because… You didn't ask his permission."

"Don't need to. I'm his father." He eyed her. "Did you wear a mask when you were looking through those disks?"

She paused as if she were hesitant to answer. "I doubt there's anything on them. I feel…" She took a breath. "Fine."

"Did you find what you were looking for?"

She shook her head. "All I have to go off of are labels with dates on them. I mean there's a few which fall into the correct timeframe, but…"

"Not much you can do without a computer, eh?"

"No." She covered her mouth to yawn.

"Why don't you go on back to bed? You look tired and you have an appointment tomorrow."

Julie's appointment with the pneumologist, Dr. Graham, wasn't until noon. Donovan hoped for a confirmation of improvement.

#

After packing the large collection of floppy disks back in their boxes, Julie spent the next hour tossing, turning, and trying to get comfortable on the couch. She speculated as to whether or not Donovan really cared that she'd "chose Steve over him." The accusation bothered her. Donovan knew full well how difficult it had been to maintain a relationship during the war, hoping for normalcy that never came. Julie didn't doubt the attraction still existed between them. It had since the night she'd met him at Kelly's. She considered what might've happened between them had Pico not come and shot her that Saturday… after Donovan sat on the floor, holding her, telling her it was what he "needed." Julie giggled to herself. Had he realized how desperate he sounded? She wondered if he'd dated anyone since her. Becky the barmaid's words came back.

You're the one he always talks about.

Julie laughed. I wonder what he told her…

"Are you going to sleep, or lay there and giggle all night?" Donovan called from the kitchen doorway.

"Sorry." She snickered. "It must be the medication."

With a shake of the head, he turned away. Julie made a mental note to harass him about Becky's comment later.

#

"No, I'm not coming tomorrow. Sunday's Father's Day, remember? You said you'd spend it with me."

Julie awoke the next morning to the sound of the shower running, and Donovan pacing the living room dripping wet, a towel girded around his waist and a cordless phone in his hand.

He's talking to Sean. She sat up and watched his lips form a fake, reassuring smile.

"Of course I'll bring it," he said. "What else do you need? No, you don't need it tomorrow wise guy… See you Sunday. Bye." He hung up.

Julie slowly stood and lifted her sheet from the couch cushions then started to fold it. Donovan ripped it out of her hands, startling her.

"You know you're not supposed to be doing that." He refolded the sheet quickly then walked toward Sean's room.

"Finish your shower," she ordered. "I'll make you breakfast."

"Mmm don't think so," he mumbled, sauntering into the bathroom. He shut the door.

#

Julie didn't feel fatigued as she cracked two eggs into an eight inch frying pan. In the five days she'd been staying here, she never saw Donovan cook himself a home-made breakfast. Busy taking care of her, he usually skipped the meal.

Julie turned the eggs just as the toast popped up. A little bit of margarine and honey, just the way you like it… honey. She smiled. Not only had she prepared this meal for him the times she'd spent in this house before, but also in the Club Creole's kitchen where she and Elias Taylor had experimented with various dishes. She loved cooking.

She turned her head, careful not to cough into the margarine bowl then slathered some spread onto a piece of toast. She dished out the eggs just as Donovan came in buttoning his top.

"Breakfast is ready," she said.

"You've got a hearing problem." He took the plate from her.

"You're welcome, Mike." She grinned and poured them each a cup of coffee.

Donovan sat at the table with his plate and salted his food.

Julie placed the coffee in front of him, sitting in an adjacent chair. "I meant to tell you I had company yesterday."

"Beside Maggie?" Donovan asked. "Did you call Ham?"

"I did actually. He's coming over Sunday afternoon. I didn't realize you'd be gone."

"You ask him about Pico?"

"No. It's probably not a good idea to let him know you told me anything before he gets here. Um…" She paused. "My boss came by."

"Your boss?"

"Ross Templeton. Steve told him about the disks, and he asked me for them."

"Steve told him what about the disks?"

"That they were at Science Frontiers the day we went and now I have them."

"Are you giving them to him?"

"No. I need to look at them first. Are you busy tomorrow?" she asked, knowing he had the entire weekend off.

"You mean other than spending my morning with a beautiful woman? … No." He shoved the last bit of toast into his mouth and chewed.

His words caught her off-guard. She tried to keep from grinning. "You still think I'm beautiful?"

"Yeah." He winked. "And a great cook too. But no more, please. I don't wanna be held responsible for your demise. From now on, your job is to rest and get well. Doctor's orders, remember?"

Julie glanced at the clock, realizing her appointment with Dr. Graham was less than two hours away.

She watched as Donovan carried his plate to the sink and rinsed it. She gathered the salt and pepper shakers then placed them on the counter.

"I guess you wouldn't be too pleased with what I'm going to ask from you?" Feeling like a child who needed to obtain her father's permission for something he'd probably say no to anyway, she spoke softly. "I thought I might have you get my computer tomorrow, then I could start researching the files, and help Steve out from here."

Donovan stared at her for a long moment, speechless, as though he didn't believe her request.

"There's not much to do around here, Mike. I'm getting… bored."

"It's called resting so you can get well. Let's see what the doctor has to say about your progress. Then, I'll decide."

She glared at him, irked by his sudden display of authority over her. "Your house, your rules?"

Placing his arm around her shoulders, Donovan pulled her close. "No. I care about you. I want you to get better."

His moist lips brushed against her forehead. She might've taken it for a pass had he not disengaged himself from the embrace so quickly, heading back to the bathroom where he finished getting ready.