Bridge to a Distant Star - Carolyn Williford [131]
“Just one.” Aubrey corrected her. “He tooked my mommy. And Rabbit, too—to keep Mommy comp’ny,” she said as an aside to Bill. “And then he tooked me to her,” pointing yet again at Fran, who couldn’t help grinning back. “See, she has Mommy’s eyes,” Aubrey stated to Sarah and Michal, dramatically.
“Well, then. That explains it.” Michal said smugly, leaning back and crossing arms over her chest. When she started to giggle, everyone in the room joined in to laugh with her.
Except Aubrey, who turned back to Bill with a pronounced pout. “Don’t they believe me, Daddy?”
“Sweetheart, Mrs. Thomason, Michal, and you—the fact that you’re here, with us—that’s a miracle. No one is going to disagree with that.”
Apparently satisfied, Aubrey hugged him again.
Suddenly fidgeting, smoothing her blouse and picking at a nonexistent piece of lint, Sarah asked Fran, “Did I hear correctly? Thomason is your last name?”
“Yes, my husband … I’m sorry, this is difficult … my husband was Charles Thomason Junior. Obviously his dad was a Charles, too. And we passed the name onto our son, Charlie.”
Sarah just stared at Fran for an awkward moment. Then she calmly said, “Bill, I think I’ll take the offer for a chair now and sit down. If that’s okay.”
Michal watched the freckles on Sarah’s face begin to stand out, growing darker and more pronounced. That’s odd, she thought. Or is it that the skin behind them is turning lighter? Alarmed, she asked, “Aunt Sarah, are you okay?”
But Sarah was solely focused on Fran. “I don’t mean to pry, and this might seem random, but could you tell me please, did your father-in-law die of cancer when his son was eleven years old?”
Fran gasped. “Oh my. You’re that Sarah?” she whispered.
Michal looked from Fran to Sarah, understanding dawning. “Charles Thomason. He’s CK?” she asked. But Sarah had slumped over, putting her head in her hands.
“Sarah,” Fran said, but Sarah didn’t move, her face still resting in the palms of her shaking hands. “Sarah, please. Take my hand. It’s okay—Charles and I talked about you, and he understood. You must’ve been hurting deeply too.” Sarah looked up then, and her eyes were red-rimmed, wet. She reached out and took the offered hand between hers. “Sarah, this is … yet another miraculous gift.” Fran’s voice grew husky. “I can’t tell you what this … you’re a godsend to me right now! Can’t you see you’re a connection to Charles? Later, when we have time, I want you to tell me all you can remember about him. Everything—every detail. And Charles’s dad—CK I think you called him? I want to hear—”
There was a tap from outside, followed by the doctor’s abrupt entrance. “I see our patients are awake now.” If he noticed the emotional weight hanging in the room, he didn’t show it, for he immediately proceeded to examine Fran, introducing himself as Dr. Holms. “How you feeling? You do have a slight concussion, by the way.”
Bill placed Aubrey on the bed so she could be quickly checked over also. The doctor tilted the little girl’s chin up. Smiled as he peered into the bright eyes. “Hardly a scratch on you anywhere, little one. How did you manage that?” Then he gave Michal a quick perusal, pronouncing her nearly perfect too, except for the deep bruising on her hands. “You know, I can’t say that I’m a religious person. But something or someone protected you three. Something bigger than any of us, that’s for sure.” He stood still for a moment, eyebrows raised. “Okay. Ready for the onslaught? They’ve been pacing the hallways like vultures.”
He’d just reached for the door when Sarah blurted out, “Doctor, wait. Would it be possible for Michal and me to have just a few more minutes alone?”
“Absolutely. Take as much time as you need; they can wait. I’ll beat them off with my stethoscope if I have to.”
“Twenty minutes?”
“You’ve got thirty. Going back to Michal’s room, are you? Then I’ll meet you all in the lounge in a half hour.”
Bill looked around the room at the small group gathered there. They were