All of the people in front of Dax nodded their heads approvingly and even patted his back as he moved past them toward the waiting cab. “Good luck, son,” the old man called, and the remainder of the group echoed his sentiment as Dax climbed in.
“Thanks,” he said, his heart filled with emotion, not only for the woman he loved, but for the people so willing to help him get to her.
“Parkridge Medical Center?” the driver asked.
“Yes. Can you tell me how far that is from here? How long will it take us to get there?”
“Fifteen minutes,” he said, then he turned up the heat in the car. “You’re going to freeze here.”
“Yeah, I know.”
Fifteen minutes until he was with Celeste. Dax leaned his head back against the seat, closed his eyes and thanked the powers that be for giving him this chance.
And that’s when he heard it. Faint, but distinct nonetheless. A laugh, no, a giggle. The giggle of a young child. A boy. It’d been a while since he’d had a boy spirit for an assignment; the majority of the children he’d helped lately were girls, but this was most definitely a boy, and while Dax listened, that giggle became louder, as though the child was getting closer…
“No.”
“Something wrong?” the cabbie asked from the front seat, his brown eyes surveying Dax from the mirror. “You’re not the carsick type, are you? Because we’re nearly there.”
“No. I-I just need to make a call. I forgot something, or rather, I forgot about something, at home.” He withdrew his cell phone from his pocket and quickly dialed the plantation.
Nanette answered on the first ring. “Dax? Are you there? Have you seen her?”
He’d called her from the airport and let her know about Celeste. “Yeah, I’m in Chattanooga, but I’m not at the hospital yet, and I need you to check on something for me.”
The cabbie relayed, “Five more minutes.”
“We’re five minutes from the hospital now, but I’ve got a problem.”
“What is it?”
Dax didn’t want to blurt out that he had a ghost on the way, not in front of the cabdriver who seemed to have taken an acute interest in their conversation. Dax could see the guy’s lifted brows in the mirror. “I need you to go to the sitting room and check the tea service for me. I think I may have-left something there.”
The cabbie’s brows furrowed, but he didn’t comment. Nanette, however, did.
“No-you’ve got an assignment?”
“On the way,” Dax said. “I don’t think it’ll be there yet, but it’s coming.”
Nan’s breathing quickened on the other end, and he could hear the sound of her footsteps, as though she was running up the stairs. “Hang on. I’m checking.”
“I usually have a day, but this one seems pretty near, like I might not have so long this time.”
“I’m in here now, Dax. Nothing on the tea service yet. What are you going to do? You know you have to come home if you get an assignment. There’s no telling what the powers that be will do if you don’t. They don’t like to wait.”
“I know.” Dax had once been on the other side of the state on a pharmaceutical route when an assignment was delivered, and by the time he made it home, the voices in his head had been so loud, children squealing and screaming and yelling and laughing, that he nearly couldn’t drive. And this time he was three states away. “But I’m not leaving until I see her, Nanette, no matter what.”
“Attaboy,” the driver said, stopping the cab in front of the entrance to Parkridge Medical Center.
Dax reached for his wallet, but the guy shook his head. “This one’s on me. You go get the girl.”
“I agree with him,” Nanette said, evidently hearing the cabbie. “You do what you’ve got to do there. Take care of Celeste, and I’ll watch for your assignment on the tea service. When it comes, I’ll call you and let you know.”
Dax smiled. It wasn’t like Nanette to forgo rules, particularly when they had to do with the spirits, but whether she admitted it or not, she had a soft spot for love, and she knew Dax’s love was in this hospital. “Thanks, Nan.”
“Just let me know how things go there, and I’ll do the same from here. Good luck, Dax.” She hung up.
Dax sprinted through the hospital lobby to the elevators and punched the button. Within seconds, he stepped off at the third floor. A nurses’ station was directly in front of the elevator, and Dax took advantage of one of the nurses looking his way. “Room 302?”
She pointed to one of the hallways that branched away from the station. “Second room on your right.”
Dax hurried to the room, opened the door without knocking-and saw her. She was on the bed, her eyes closed and her long blond curls draped over the pillow. The top of her blouse, the same sage green blouse she’d been wearing when she came to him, was visible above the sheet.
A young woman sat beside the bed and held Celeste’s hand. She looked up at him, and though her eyes were bloodshot and tired, her face was vaguely similar to Celeste’s. Her hair was more sandy than blond, and in a style that Dax would classify as stylishly modern.
“Nelsa?”
She blinked, then nodded. “Do I know you?” she asked. “Or-does she?” She looked at her sister, then leaned over her and kissed her cheek.
“Yes,” he said, stepping toward the bed. He wanted to run to Celeste, to hold her, to beg her to wake up and be with him on this side. But how could he tell Nelsa that he was Celeste’s lover when he hadn’t even been to the hospital since she’d been hurt?
Dax’s head reeled. What to say to make this woman, hovering protectively over her sister, let him get near?
“Excuse me?”
Dax turned toward the woman’s voice behind him and saw an older couple with cups of coffee cradled in their hands and confused looks on their faces. The woman looked as if she hadn’t slept in weeks, or more probably, months. Her eyes were puffy and swollen, and her skin was void of color; she looked as though she’d been through hell. Then again, she’d been through the closest thing to it, the scare of losing a child. The man beside her wasn’t overly tall, but he was stoutly built and had a disapproving scowl on his face. “Who are you?” he asked. “And what are you doing here?”
Celeste’s parents.
No doubt a stranger showing up in their daughter’s room would make them suspicious, but Dax wasn’t a stranger, yet he didn’t know how to tell them that.
“I’m a-friend of Celeste’s,” he started, then shook his head. “No, it’s more than that,” he said, not willing to lie to Celeste’s family. “I love her.”
The woman dropped her coffee, and it splattered against her feet on the floor.
“Son, what are you saying? We-we don’t even know you,” Celeste’s father said, then he turned to his wife. “Marian, are you all right?”
“It’s him,” she whispered, her trembling hand moving to her heart. “You’re Dax, aren’t you?”
The man’s look of irritation swiftly converted to one of shock, and Nelsa stood beside the bed. “Are you? Are you Dax?”
Dax was thrown. How could they know him? But he nodded. “I am.”
“She’s been calling for you,” Nelsa explained. “In fact, your name is the only name she’s said the whole time. All these months. Dax. We-we didn’t know where you were, didn’t know who you were, and we tried to find you but didn’t know where to look.”
She’d been calling his name? Dax’s pulse beat wildly. If she’d been calling his name on this side, that meant that-what?-her spirit had been back here and trying to merge? That she remembered him on this side as well? Or was he just grasping at straws? Would her spirit come back to her body, the way John-Paul’s had? Or had Dax ruined her chance for that when he’d kept her with him for so long?
“Where have you been?” her mother asked. “If you love her, where have you been?” She took a shaky breath. “I-we-didn’t even know about you, had no idea. And I’d have thought if you knew her, and you loved her, you would have come shortly after the accident. But you didn’t come.” She shook her head. “Why not?”