“Okay, I’ll see you there.”
I hung up, threw on a pair of jeans, my red cowboy boots, and my winter coat, and headed out into the freezing Chicago air. I contemplated going back up to my apartment to grab a scarf, but I didn’t have much time so I made my way toward the L. Walking into Harvey’s, I instantly spotted Beth and Jerry seated at the long oak bar. When I approached Beth, she stood up and moved down one stool so I could sit in the middle.
“Well, what’s this all about?” Jerry asked.
“I’m going to do it!” I said triumphantly. The bartender turned and looked in my direction. I waved him toward me. “I’ll take the Lawson Pinot,” I said, then faced Jerry and grinned. “It’s a sexy wine.” He nodded, looking somewhat bewildered.
“I have a feeling you’re going to give us some bittersweet news,” Beth said.
“I want to see about finishing my book.”
“I knew it.” Jerry smacked the bar top. “I knew you were up to something. I guess this means you’re done with the Crier?”
“You both have given me so much support. You had faith in me when I was producing crap. When I could barely formulate a coherent sentence, you continued sending stories my way, Jerry. And Beth, you are an amazing writer and a serious inspiration to me. I am done with the Crier, but I’m not done with you guys.”
“What about Jamie?” Beth asked.
“I’m gonna see about him, too.” I looked down at my fidgeting hands. “He asked me to marry him.” Beth almost spit her mouthful of beer out, but Jerry wore a knowing look.
“Well, kid, I couldn’t be happier for you. Congratulations. We’ll miss you at the paper, but I think you’re doing the right thing.”
“That’s amazing, Kate,” Beth said sincerely once she regained composure.
“I wanted to tell you both right away because I plan on flying out as soon as I can, possibly tomorrow. I want to say ‘yes’ to Jamie in person.”
Jerry smiled. “My little Kate is going to marry R. J. Lawson . . . unbelievable.”
“Yeah, you’re going to be a bazillionaire.” Beth snickered.
“I don’t care about that. I love him.” It was the first time I had said it out loud. “I love him and I can’t wait to tell him.”
We left each other with huge hugs in front of the bar and then went in three different directions. I headed toward the L feeling as light as air. I literally bounced up the stairs to the station. I felt myself smiling even though I wasn’t trying to. It was quiet and empty on the train platform as I waited. I entered the third car, which I thought was empty, but realized very quickly that there was a man sitting in the very back. There was a brief rush of Chicago wind through the back of my hair just before the doors closed. The man’s long black peacoat contrasted severely with his white, almost translucent skin and hair. Sitting all the way across the train car, I could see the ice-blue depths of his eyes. He looked haunted as he stared back at me. I broke the uncomfortable staring contest first by looking out the window. Buildings and tunnel walls zipped by like film in fast motion. I watched the lights string neon webs through the sky as the train picked up speed. I kept the man in my peripheral vision but tried to look fearless and confident.
Relief washed over me when a couple got on at Belmont. They stood near the door and kissed for about sixty seconds until they got off at Wellington, two stops before mine. The fear was back, and with good reason. I should have stepped off with them. Once the train was in motion again, the man stood up and stalked toward me. I backed up until I was almost against the door. Hurry, open, I kept chanting in my head, hoping the next stop would come soon. I stuck my hand into my coat pocket and pulled out the note from Jamie.
When the man was inches from me, he reached toward my neck. I took another step back. I clutched the note and covered my necklace with my right hand and held my purse out to him with my left.
“Here, take it,” I squeaked.
“I want the necklace.” His voice shot down my spine, raising warning alarms throughout my body.
“Please, I have money and credit cards in here. Please, take it.”
“I said I want the necklace!”
I was shaking, and I couldn’t move. In one fluid motion he reached into his pocket, pulled out a pistol, and held it up. I cowered and squeezed my eyes shut with all of my strength. I heard him shout, “Stupid bitch,” and then I felt an overpowering force to my head, and that was the last thing I remember.
Page 15
Irony
To what degree do we really shape our own destiny? Are the people who seem down on their luck unable to see the signs, unable to hear the whispers? Would I have been laying in a pool of blood on the Chicago subway in my red cowboy boots if I had listened more closely to my instincts?
I floated into the darkness, where I stayed for an immeasurable amount of time. Time didn’t seem to matter and neither did my physical being. I was warm and in no pain, and although I was seemingly alone in that wormhole, I could sense that someone was with me. I wondered if it was my mother or Rose. There was no fear, just a sensation that I was loved. I felt I needed to wish, pray, want, and try hard to see a light in all of that darkness, but when I did, it came with the most excruciating pain. I recoiled again and again and went back into the blackness, where I spent what seemed like an eternity lost in my thoughts.
I wondered who would bury me. Who would make sure I got my placard? I wondered if Jamie would be at my funeral. Would he cry? Would he be able to go on with his life? The thought of Jamie losing me was harder to accept than the thought of losing Jamie. Not because I didn’t care for him, but because he would be in pain, and that gave me more strength to fight than anything else. I loved him and could not stand the thought of causing him pain.
There were two bright lights that came into my view first. Both were completely haloed and foggy. One was shining down on me from above what I quickly realized was a hospital bed, and the other was coming from the window to my left. My head was screaming with excruciating pain. I saw a figure sitting in a chair a few feet away. He was hunched over, resting his head on the foot of my bed. I thought it was Jamie. I sensed that it was him, but I didn’t know for sure. I blinked several times, trying to refocus my eyes, but my vision was still so muddled, and the light was increasing the intense throbbing in my brain.
I closed my eyes and drifted off again. The next time I stirred, I kept my eyes closed but heard voices.
“She’s my fiancée. Please, you have to tell me something.”
“We cannot release information to anyone other than family.”
“She doesn’t have any family. I’m it. Please.” The tone of his voice was so pleading that it made my heart ache.
“Okay,” the woman answered. “I can get in a lot of trouble for this.”
“I promise, I won’t say a word. I just need to know. Is she gonna be okay?”
I tried to speak but couldn’t form the words. I felt paralyzed by the pain.
“She was beaten severely with the base of a pistol. The trauma to her head has caused critical swelling and leaking of spinal fluid into her brain. She has what’s called posttraumatic hydrocephalus.” He gasped and made a guttural sound. I opened my eyes for just a second to see Jamie leaning against the wall across from me. His arms were crossed and his head was down. He looked broken. “Her prognosis depends completely on her own body. We’ll be monitoring her very closely and doing scans every day. If the swelling doesn’t start to go down with medication, then the doctors will have to perform brain surgery. They’ll drill a hole and put shunts in to drain the fluid and alleviate the pressure.” I couldn’t tell for sure, but it sounded like he was crying very quietly. The tone in the nurse’s voice changed. It became soothing. “Stay positive. Keep talking to her. The best-case scenario is that she could make a full recovery and be home in a week.”