The following afternoon, while Phil Logan was completing the insurance paperwork for my release, Liddy Marshall came into my hospital room carrying a shopping bag.
“New clothes,” she said,
“That’s a sweet thought, but I don’t need new clothes.”
“Yes, you do,” she said. “Think about it. Your arm’s in a cast. How are you going to zip and button yourself?”
I admitted that I hadn’t thought of that.
Liddy opened the shopping bag and pulled out a pair of black knit slacks. “Elastic waistband,” she said. “You can pull them up with one hand.”
“That is a good idea.”
“I’m not finished.” She removed a garment in a soft shade of blue and held it up. “A tunic. This morning I had a seamstress open up the left side to accommodate the cast on your arm, and sew on strips of Velcro that you can stick together with your right hand.”
“That’s really clever,” I said. “Thank you.”
“I’m glad you like it, because right now she’s making up six more for you, in different colors. Also, you have six more pair of these pull-up pants at your house, so you’ll have a separate outfit for each day of the week. This top looks and feels like silk, but it’s one of those great new fakes. You can toss everything in the washing machine.”
“You are amazing.”
Liddy grinned. “With twin sons and a husband whose dental practice consists mostly of gorgeous actresses, I’ve had to be amazing. There’s one problem I couldn’t solve for you: a bra.”
“How about a strapless that fastens in front?”
“No. I was with Julie, the Neiman Marcus lingerie buyer, this morning. We experimented like a pair of contortionists, but even with that style, you wouldn’t be able to get it on and off by yourself while your arm’s in a cast. You’ll have to go braless for a while. Luckily, you don’t droop.”
Liddy had just finished helping me dress when Phil Logan arrived, brandishing a manila envelope. “I’ve sprung you, Del. ”
Liddy picked up the bag with the clothes I’d worn when I fell from Roland Gray’s balcony. “We’re ready.”
Right behind Phil was a nurse steering a wheelchair. She stopped in front of me and opened up the footrest.
“Here we are,” she said cheerfully.
“Thank you, but I don’t need that. I broke my arm, not my leg. ”
“Hospital rules.” She pronounced those two words in a tone that discouraged argument.
I sat.
She pushed.
Phil talked.
“I’ve organized everything for you while you’re plastered up.” He ticked off items on his fingers. “One: You’ll have celebrity guest cookers helping you on your next eight shows. Two: I’ve arranged to have catered meals delivered to your house every day so you don’t have to cook at home. Three: Eileen will be running Della’s Sweet Dreams full-time. Four: Mickey authorized me to hire a dog walker to come to your house three times a day to take Tuffy out. She starts this afternoon. Her name is Helen. Five: Shannon and Liddy are going to come over every day to see what you need. I wanted to hire a private nurse to stay with you, but Liddy said you’d never go for that. Actually, she expressed it in surprisingly strong language.”
“Thank you, Liddy,” I said
Phil ran out of fingers and started on his other hand. “Six: I’m assigning the intern in my office to take you wherever you need to go. While I made my rounds this morning I had him drive me, as a test. He passed.”
“Once again, you’ve thought of everything.”
Phil beamed. “That’s my job.”
When we got to the hospital’s entrance and the nurse wheeled the chair back inside, Phil said, “Liddy’s taking you home. I’d come with, but I’ve got places to go and problems to solve.”
With that, Phil took off at his usual warp speed toward the hospital’s parking lot.
As soon as Liddy opened my front door, Tuffy bounded out to greet me. He leaned against my thigh and looked at my cast with curiosity. I gave him an ear scratch. Then I stepped inside and found several of my favorite people in the living room.
Shannon called out, “Surprise!”
“I am surprised.” Mostly I was surprised to see Nicholas talking to John and Weaver, with none of the three of them scowling.
“We’re celebrating your return,” Bill Marshall said. He was standing behind one of the two card tables someone had set up and covered with tablecloths, passing out beer and soft drinks. Behind the other card table, Shannon and Eileen were arranging deli platters and a basket of bagels.
“I smell Junior’s,” I said, looking at Nicholas. He smiled at me.
“Welcome home,” John said quietly.
“We’ve got terrific news, Aunt Del!” Eileen said.
“John’s back on the force,” Weaver said.
“I’ve got more good news,” Nicholas said. “After what Detective Hatch put you all through, I wanted to tell you before you saw it in the paper tomorrow morning.”
Shannon grimaced. “I hope somebody shot him.”
“Mother! You don’t mean that.”
“Not fatally,” Shannon said. “Just in some place that really hurts.”
“He’s taken early retirement. And he’s leaving the state.”
“I feel safer already,” I said.
John looked skeptical. “It’s hard to believe he quit. Where did he go?”
“Not where I’d like to see him,” Nicholas said. “He was offered a job in Washington -at Homeland Security.”
“Now I feel less safe,” Liddy said.
Weaver grunted. “At least he’s no longer a pimple on our ass.”
“Elegantly put,” I said with a smile. “Now let’s have some celebration bagels.”
John and Weaver left together because they were on the four-to-midnight shift. Liddy and Bill went home to change because they had theater tickets. Eileen had gone to her parents’ house for the night, to keep her mother company.
Nicholas and I were alone on the couch in the living room. Tuffy lay on the floor near my feet, and Emma was curled up on the cushion of the club chair to the left of the couch.
“This looks pretty domestic,” Nicholas said.
I glanced around the room. “I never thought I’d get things put back together after Hatch turned the house upside down.”
“I wasn’t talking about the furniture. I meant us.”
I shifted my left arm into a more comfortable position. “I know I’m not very exciting with my arm in a cast and pain pills making me sleepy. You don’t need to stay, really. I’m fine.”
Nicholas sat up straighter. “I know you’re fine-and independent-and can take care of yourself.” I was surprised that he sounded angry.
“Don’t be testy,” I said.
“You make it very hard for me to-I’m trying to say something.”
“We don’t play games with each other. You can say anything you want to me.”
Nicholas took my right hand in both of his. “I’m trying to tell you that I’ve fallen in love with you.”
“I know.”
“You know?”
“Of course I know. You’ve done everything except say the words.”
“How do you feel about it?”
“I’m glad.”
Nicholas let go of my hands and drew back. “What do you mean, you’re glad? Is that all you’re going to say?”
“What do you want me to say?”
“I want you to tell me in one simple, declarative sentence how you feel about me.”
“I love you, too.”
Nicholas expelled an exasperated sigh. “In journalism we call that burying the lead!”
Then he kissed me. Deeply, at first, then, as I responded, he was tender. After a few moments, he brushed my mouth with his lips and whispered, “Marry me.”
“Louder, please. I didn’t hear you.”
“You make me crazy.” He kissed me again. Pulling away, he fixed me with a hard look and said, “Marry me. This is a onetime offer.”
I stroked his face with my good hand and ran the tip of my index finger around the outline of his full lips. The sight of him, the scent of him, the taste of him, his touch, all made me melt. “How long do I have to think about the onetime offer?”
“As long as you need…”
He kissed me again, and I lost track of time.