And in the dream Bennie’s mother became that woman at the movie vanity, her round, dark eyes serene, her lips full with dark lipstick, and she was brushing her long wavy hair in the mirror, letting her curls bounce back shiny with each stroke of the gleaming brush, a great lady of a great house, surrounded by beautiful bottles of real crystal, full of heavy, fragrant perfumes from Paris, their amber glowing like liquid gold in the lamplight and somehow shooting light like sunbeams, suffusing the place with the warm golden orange of a late afternoon in summer.
In the golden light Bennie went up to her mother, her shining mother, now seated at her vanity of light, and stood behind her for a minute, enjoying the vision she’d never had, of her mother happy and whole and finally getting everything she wanted, becoming at last the woman she always wished to be. And in the next moment her mother’s dream became Bennie’s own, for her mother turned glowing from the mirror, set down the precious shiny hairbrush, and smiled at Bennie with the sweetest of smiles.
“Benedetta,” she said, her voice soft and familiar.
And she raised her loving arms to embrace her daughter in the light.
38
When Bennie opened her eyes, everything around her was white. White walls, white bed, white cotton covers. It was either a hospital room or a cloud with a three-thousand-dollar-a-day bill. She had an ache in her chest that seemed to encompass her entire upper body, a profoundly deep pain kept only reluctantly at bay by something more powerful than Tylenol, and infinitely more pleasant. Bennie felt surprisingly happy, but maybe that was the being-alive part.
“Welcome back, sleepyhead,” said a man’s voice. It was David, and he was moving from a chair in the corner of the dim room to one closer to her bed, then rolling away a tray table with a brown Formica top. Bennie caught his smile before her eyes closed again. She swallowed with difficulty, her throat so parched it hurt. She opened her eyes to find some water, but David was already raising a Styrofoam cup.
“Thirsty?” he asked, and she smiled. Or at least it felt like a sort of smile.
“You’re good,” she said, her voice so hoarse it was more like a whisper.
“Wait a minute.” He pressed something on the side of the bed to raise the top half slowly. “High enough?”
“No. More morphine.”
David smiled. “Let me hold the cup,” he said, but Bennie was already reaching for it herself. A bolt of pain shot through her chest, and IV tubes she hadn’t noticed tethered her arms to the bed.
Okay, so much for the independent-woman part.
“Please, let me do it.” David looped his right arm around her back, cradling her while he brought the cup to her lips so she could take a small sip of lukewarm water. Then he eased her back onto the pillows.
“That was good for me, was it good for you?” Bennie rasped, and he laughed.
“Congratulations, by the way. You’re not critical anymore.”
“I’m always critical,” Bennie said, testing out her new throat. It still hurt like hell, but at least now it was wet.
“The associates just left. Too bad you missed them.” David set the cup of water on the rolling cart, eased onto the orange plastic chair beside the bed, and hung a forearm over the molded bedrail. “How do you feel?”
“Okay.” Bennie swallowed. She sensed he was avoiding the obvious. “How are Marshall and the baby?”
“Marshall is fine.” David paused. “And the baby, well, the baby might not make it. We’ll know later today. Its blood and oxygen supply were compromised when the placenta separated.”
No. Bennie closed her eyes. “Is it a girl or a boy?”
“Girl. Named Gabrielle.”
Gabrielle. Bennie felt her eyes well up, and David squeezed her hand.
“As for you, you took a shot in your lung, but it missed your spine, which is very good news, and your pulmonary artery, which is more very good news. You had a lot of bleeding, but they didn’t have to transfuse you.” David gave her hand another squeeze. His voice sounded calm and even. “You’ve been awake a couple of times, which the doctor says is normal, with the drugs they’re giving you and the trauma your body went through.”
Bennie nodded. She’d been lucky. She prayed to God the baby would be. She couldn’t stop thinking about Marshall. What she had gone through. What she might yet have to go through. “Is Jim with Marshall?”
“Yes. You need anything? More water, maybe?”
“No, thanks.” Bennie opened her eyes and blinked the wetness away. “What about Alice and Georges? Catch me up.”
“Alice is the one who ran for the ER people when you got hit. She probably saved your life.”
Well, how do you like that? Returning the favor.
“Nobody’s seen her since, though, and Georges is fine, except for a shoulder injury, and he’s already been charged with his brother’s murder. What happened between you three?” David leaned closer, but Bennie waved him back.
“I’ll tell you if you don’t smell my breath.”
“Your breath is better than Bear’s.”
“There’s a plus.” Bennie smiled. She must look terrible. She didn’t know the last time she had washed her hair. She didn’t know what day it was. She wished for mascara, which she’d never worn in her life. “I bet I look hot in this gown.”
“Bennie, can I tell you something, quite honestly?” David leaned over, smoothed back a strand of her hair, and planted a soft kiss on her forehead. “I think you are beautiful, even now.”
Bennie didn’t know what to say, so she closed her eyes and let the sensation wash over her. It was about as sexy as a hospital room gets, and she was filled with a warm, strong rush that was better than morphine. Okay, maybe not better than morphine, but really really good.
“And Bear says hi. I’m staying at your house, if that’s okay. Taking care of him and making sure Alice doesn’t come back.”
Bennie nodded. It felt good, David staying in her place. He was in her bed, even if she wasn’t. Huh?
“So what happened? Georges isn’t saying, and Alice can’t be found. She told the cops that he confessed when he came upon you and her together. She said that when he tried to shoot her, you stepped in and saved her. Is that true?”
“Partly.” Bennie smiled. Except for that attempted-murder part. “How did she explain what she was doing there with a gun?”
“She didn’t have to. She said it was yours. It was registered to you.”
“Ha!” Bennie blinked. “She must have bought it using my name and ID. Perfect.”
“So what was she doing there with a gun?” David’s forehead knitted with concern. “Wasn’t she trying to kill you? And if she was, why would you save her?”
Bennie shook her head. She didn’t want to tell him why. She hadn’t realized it herself until this minute anyway. Instead, she told him what had happened with Alice.
“You must have been terrified.”
“Nah.” Scared shitless is more like it.
“She should be charged. She tried to kill you.”
Bennie shook her head. “They won’t find her. She’s outta here. That’s her MO.”
“I’m sorry that I wasn’t there when the shit hit the fan.” David’s tone was heavy with regret. “I called your cell when I saw you hadn’t been brought to Penn, but there was no answer. I couldn’t get here in time.”
“It’s not your fault.”
“Yes it is. It happened on my watch. You were on my watch.”
“David, no.”