“I’ll tell Mr. Steele you’re indisposed,” Mrs. Pibbs added formally, and left Dana alone.
Dana turned her face to the wall. She couldn’t bear even the sight of her father, the sound of his name. Poor little Mandy, poor little Mandy, who hadn’t the weapons to survive all alone after twenty-five years of being provided for. It was inevitable that she’d break eventually. For the first few weeks after the divorce was final, Dana had been on the lookout for it to happen. But it hadn’t, not even when Jack Steele announced his marriage to one of the women he worked with, a blond, motherly woman whom Dana had only seen once.
Mandy had held on, working at a florist’s shop, doing well, apparently happy and with everything to live for. Until Jack had been married three months. And then, last night, Mandy had called Dana, crying hysterically, and begged for a talk.
Dana had gone, as she always went when Mandy called, and found her mother drinking heavily.
“Let’s go out to supper,” Mandy had begged, her pale brown eyes watery with hot tears, her wrinkled face showing its age. “I can’t bear being alone anymore. Let’s go out to supper and talk. I thought you might want to come back home and live with me again.”
Dana had been as floored by the state her mother was in as she was by the request. She didn’t want to live at home again; she wanted her independence. But there had to be some kind way to tell Mandy that, and she was searching for it when they went out to the car.
“I’ll drive,” Mandy had insisted. “I’m fine, dear, really I am. Just a couple of martinis, you know, nothing heavy. Get in, get in.”
At that point Dana should have insisted on driving, but she’d been upset by her mother’s sudden request that she move back in and she’d climbed obediently into the front seat.
“It will be lovely having you home again,” Mandy cooed as she drove them toward a nearby restaurant.
“But, Mother—” Dana began.
“Your father said you wouldn’t, but I knew he was lying,” Mandy had continued, unabashed. Tears had suddenly sprung from her eyes, and her hands on the wheel had trembled. “He said you were glad we’d divorced, so you could spend more time with him without…without having to see me at the same time. He said you hated me.”
Dana remembered catching her breath and staring blankly at her mother. “I didn’t!” she burst out. “I never said such a thing!”
The thin old mouth began to tremble. “He made me go along with the divorce, you know. He made me….”
“Dad?” she’d queried, shocked. It hardly sounded like him, but Mandy wouldn’t lie to her, surely.
“There have been other women since we married, Dana,” she’d continued hotly. “He only married me because you were on the way. And he tried to get rid of you as soon as he found out…”
Dana had been devastated. She opened her mouth to speak, but her mother wouldn’t let her get a word in.
“I called you tonight because I’d decided that…that I was going to kill myself.” Mandy had laughed hysterically, and her hands on the wheel had jerked; the car had accelerated. “But then I got to thinking that I needn’t do that—I needn’t be alone. You could come home and stay with me. You don’t need to stay in that apartment alone.”
“But I’m not alone, I have a roommate,” Dana had tried to reason with her.
“We’ll have such fun,” Mandy continued wildly. She turned her head to look at Dana. “He never wanted you, but I did. You were my baby, my little girl….”
“Mama, look out!” Dana had seen the truck, but Mandy hadn’t. Before she could get her fogged mind to function, the truck was on top of them. Then there was only the sound of crunching metal, splintering glass….
Dana felt hot tears run down her cheeks. She wept bitterly. Not only had she lost her mother, but now she understood why there had been arguments all the time, why her parents had been so hostile toward each other. It even explained why her father hadn’t come near her since the divorce. He’d only married Mandy because he’d had to. He hadn’t wanted Dana, not ever. No wonder he had always been away from home. No wonder he’d never tried to build any kind of relationship with his daughter. He’d hated her because she’d forced him to marry a woman he didn’t love—had never loved.
Suddenly Mrs. Pibbs walked into the room, and Dana dabbed at the tears with a corner of the sheet.
“Your father’s gone,” she told the young nurse, wincing at the deep lacerations on the once spotless complexion. There would be scars, although Mrs. Pibbs had determined that she wasn’t going to tell Dana about that just yet; Dana had had quite enough for one day.
Dana licked her dry lips. “Thank you, Mrs. Pibbs.”
“Headache?”
She managed a wan smile. “A really murderous one. Could I have something, do you think?”
“As soon as Dr. Willis makes his rounds.” She checked her wristwatch. “And that will be in a very few minutes.”
Dana became aware of the discomfort in her face and felt the bandages on one cheek. She started. “My face…!”
“You should heal very well,” Mrs. Pibbs said firmly. “It was inevitable, with all that broken glass. It isn’t so bad, my dear. You’re alive. You’re very lucky that you were wearing your seat belt.”
Dana’s lower lip trembled. “Mrs. Pibbs, my mother…Was it quick?”
The older woman sighed. “It was instantaneous, the ambulance attendants told us. Now, you rest. Don’t dwell on it, just rest. The memory will fade, the cuts will fade. It only needs time.” Her eyes were sad for a moment. “Dana, I lost my mother when I was fifteen. I remember very well how it hurt. I still miss her, but grief does pass. It has to.”
“If only I’d insisted on driving…!” Dana burst out, the tears returning. “It’s all my fault!”
“No, my dear, it isn’t. The truck that hit your mother’s car ran a stop sign. Even if you had been driving, it would have been unavoidable.” She moved forward and uncharacteristically brushed the wild blond hair away from Dana’s bruised face. “The driver of the truck was only scratched. Isn’t it the way of things?” she added with a sad smile.
Dana bit her lip. “Yes,” she murmured.
“Jenny said she’d see you later, by the way,” the older nurse added. “And Miss Ena asked about you.”
Dana couldn’t repress a tiny smile, even through her grief. Miss Ena had undergone a gall bladder operation days before, and was the bane of the nursing staff. But strangely, she’d taken a liking to Dana and would do anything the young nurse asked.
“Tell her, please, that I’ll be back on duty Friday night,” Dana said gently. “If that’s all right with you.”
“That depends on how well you are by then,” was the stern reply. “We’ll wait to see about the funeral until Dr. Willis has seen you. You have to be prepared: he may very well refuse to let you go.”
Dana’s eyes blurred again with hot tears. “But I must!”
“You must get well,” Mrs. Pibbs replied. “I’ll see you later, Nurse. I’m very busy, but I wanted to check on you. Dr. Willis will be around shortly.” She paused at the door, her eyes frankly concerned as she watched the blond head settle back on the pillow. Something was wrong there, very wrong. Dana’s father had said as much when he was told that she refused to see him. But he wasn’t going to insist, he told Mrs. Pibbs. Dana would work it out herself.
But would she? Mrs. Pibbs wondered.
Dr. Willis stopped