Ryan was once again the glue that held everything together. Even though Seth managed to pull through, his vulnerable position illustrated to Ryan that life was short, and death was inevitable. Now more than ever Ryan knew that his decision to become a doctor was his destiny. Not only was his training important to save a person’s body, but he knew he had to heal the whole person.
One person Ryan felt wasn’t whole, that he couldn’t seem to reach, was Patrick. Where was he when the family needed him?
The doors revolved around Patrick, slamming him in the back and catching him in the mechanism before he wrested himself free. The smells of disinfectant and sickness assaulted him, and the only thing he wanted to do now was bolt. Overwhelmed by the stench, he pulled out a handkerchief from his pocket and covered his nose and mouth with it, as if that would act as a deterrent.
Only a saint like Ryan would want to surround himself with these people.
He had to reach out and hold the desk in front of him to steady himself. Patrick did everything he could to keep himself from throwing up, or worse, collapsing…just like Dad.
“Are you okay, sir? How can I help you?” a receptionist asked.
Sure. You can help me. Blow up this hole of misery. That would be a great help.
“I’m looking for Mr. MacPherson. Seth MacPherson.” Patrick replied, without removing the handkerchief that kept the millions of germs from infecting him.
“Are you a family member?”
He nodded silently.
Imagine a bomb going off in this place. The mangled steel, the pathetic moans, and the news trucks. It would be thoroughly enjoyable.
“Take the elevator in the back and go up to floor 8. The nurses up there can help you.”
Wonderful. I get an audience with His Eminence, and I don’t even get an escort.
Patrick walked away without thanking the woman, who barely looked up, and walked tentatively towards the elevator. He pulled another handkerchief from his pocket. He pushed the elevator call button with one hand and held the other handkerchief with the other. His initial reaction was to press the elevator call button several times, but he feared the infestation of all the billions of germs that were covering each and every square inch of the hospital.
The door of the elevator opened up, slowly. Several hospital personnel stepped off, all talking excitedly about their cases.
I am now entering the world of Ryan, dashing prince of the house of MacPherson, and who, disguised as a mild mannered medical student, promises to rid the world of disease and pestilence…I wonder if he uses a phone booth to change clothes.
Patrick was the only person on the elevator. He felt safe and secure and safe enough to take a deep breath.
As he stepped off the elevator, He came face to face with Ryan. Their eyes met and stayed glued on each other. The doors began to close and Patrick stuck out his hands to stop them. Ryan felt glued to the floor. He couldn’t move or say anything.
“What are you doing here?” Ryan asked.
“I heard about dad. What else would I be doing here? Taking the grand tour?” Patrick sneered at Ryan, who had not yet recovered from the shock of Ryan’s tired appearance.
“That was two days ago. Where the hell have you been?”
“Can we possibly do this some other time?” Patrick tried to walk around Ryan but was stopped.
“I don’t think so. Dad’s in ICU. You’ll have to wait. Then again, waiting is something you do very well, isn’t it? Why did you even bother with it all? You’ve waited until two days after my father suffered a heart attack, when he could very well by now. By the time you show up, his corpse would be decomposing.”
“He’s our father, and I couldn’t get away until now. I had to take care of business. “ Patrick paused. “Why am even defending myself to you?”
“Where’s your sense of loyalty, Pat? Dad has been working day and night at the winery and you are off doing… who knows what. He could’ve used your help but you can’t even give him the time of day. You have had it so easy. Patrick. The best schools, cars, and money to burn. Everything has been handed to you and you can’t think of anyone but yourself. Dad doted on you, and look where it got you! You could get away with murder!”
Hmmm. Getting away with murder. Now there’s an idea.
“Oh, my dear brother,” Patrick sneered. “I didn’t know you cared.”
*****
Suzanne sat in the library, engrossed in reading the now-infamous cookbook . The recipes for love looked interesting, and she sighed. Now that her sister had seemingly found romance, why couldn’t she?
Blaine burst into the room without knocking. Suzanne shot up and accidentally ripped the page she was reading.
“Don’t you know how to knock? You scared the hell out of me.”
“You’ll never guess what happened to me.”
“You heard from Louisa and she’s with Seth?”
“No. Guess again.”
“Canada beat Mexico in the Gold Cup.”
“Well, that’s true, but you have one more chance.”
Suzanne smiled, then scratched her head. “I give up. What’s this great news you’re teasing me about?”
“All right. I’ll tell you. Remember Paige Gilbert? She called me this morning. She said she’s putting together a new cooking show, and would I mind going back to Toronto to tape a pilot?”
“That’s great. First , Louisa gets the man of her dreams back into her life, even though he’s sick, and now you have a chance at culinary stardom. And what do I have? A feather duster and a bottle of window cleaner. Don’t get me wrong. I am happy for you. But if I can’t act like little sister and exhibit just a little bit of sibling rivalry, it takes the fun out of everything. Congratulations, hon’.”
“What are you reading? That cookbook? What’s so great about that one book? You’d think it was The Joy of Sex.” Blaine reached out to grab the book from her.
“The original cookbook is safely back in the library. While you were busy in the dressing room, I was making copies in the production office . I copied the entire cookbook before we went on the air. Now I can read this book at my leisure. Louisa doesn’t have to know a thing, right?”
“Whatever. If Louisa finds out you made a copy of it…or I did…she’d kill us both!”
Suzanne just smiled back and continued. “No. I don’t think so. Did you you know that Grandma used one of these recipes to land Grandpa? That is why this book is so wonderful. It isn’t just recipes . It’s a family history.”
“So are a lot of other cookbooks out there. Just take a look next time you go shopping. There are a million of ‘em out there.”
“There may be a million family histories out there, but only one is the Carroll family cookbook. I can recreate the recipe if you’d like. “
“No,” Blaine blushed. “That’s all right. That’s my job. Besides, Valentine’s Day has already passed for another year. “
“Well if you ever change your mind, I can help you. I bet that Louisa used one of these recipes to rope Seth into her clutches. That is why she doesn’t me to have it.”
Suzanne went back to reading.
“You know that Seth and Louisa have been in love since the first time they met. Things didn’t work out the first time around but now they have a second chance. Speaking of that, have you heard anything about Seth’s condition?”
Suzanne nodded. “Louisa says he’s in ICU, and that he’s resting comfortably.”
Blaine was looking through the copy of the cookbook.
“Cream of Hearts soup. Now this looks interesting. Looks a bit like vichyssoise…it would be great for the summer.” He read on to the detailed ingredients of the recipe. “So this is what Grandma fixed for Grandpa when they first got married. No wonder she was a June bride.”
*****
Thérèse whipped her head around, and the gate agent repeated her question.
“May I help you?”
“I…seem to be lost. My cousins were supposed to meet me here. I hope they didn’t get lost, either.”
“They may have just gotten stuck in traffic,” the gate agent told her. “I-10 is totally jammed right now. They’re probably just late. Where are they coming from?”
“They live in Vermilion Parish. Do you know it?” she asked.
The agent nodded. “My roommate from LSU came from there. Abbeville. I know it very well. Is there anyone there you can call?”
Thérèse paused for a moment. “Well…I could. Where’s the pay phone?”
The agent pointed to a phone in the corner. Thérèse dropped several coins into the slot and began to dial.
No answer.
“Look. I’m about to finish my shift here, and it’s getting late. You’re probably really stressed out. I know I am. I’ve had the day from hell today.”
Thérèse nodded. “Well, yes, it’s been a long day for me, too. I should get out there, but I’m really uncomfortable about driving a rented car alone at night. Can you recommend a hotel where I can stay?”
“Chez Helen,” the agent replied.
“Hmmm? I thought that was a restaurant.”
The agent laughed. “Oh…you’re thinking of that other one. I meant my place.”
“Well, I really don’t know…”
“Look. All the hotels in town are going to be completely full. There’s not a one to be had, even if you made a reservation for a fleabag. I have to go home anyway, and I have a spare bedroom. How ‘bout it? We can see Endymion. I live right on the parade route. Looks like we can both use a little de-stresser. By the way, my name really is Helen. Helen Cunningham.”
“Thérèse Armand.”
They held their hands out, shook each other’s and walked off into the parking garage, laughing and talking as they went.
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