The Shooting Star, page 19
Liz flicked through the midweek paper, relaxing over breakfast after a good night’s sleep. Her grandmother had been exceptionally well since being admitted to the aged-care facility. Surprised, Liz barely contained her tears when her grandmother chatted with her numerous times the previous day as if dementia had never come between them.
Chewing another mouthful of cereal, she mentally ran through the list of things to do that day and still be at the nursing home by ten. Her chores all clear in her mind, she hunched over the paper again. With her hair hanging loose around her face, she idly tucked it behind her ears, continuing to read the day’s news. She looked up when her mobile phone rang.
For a couple of heartbeats, she wondered if it was the nursing home. She stumbled out of the kitchen chair in haste to reach it before it ended.
“Hello.”
There was a distant clicking in her ear—the usual telemarketer calling from overseas. Rarely did she give them a chance to speak before ending the call. She was about to tap the red ‘end call’ button when a woman with an accent, much like Connor’s, spoke.
“Hello, is this Liz?”
Hesitantly, she answered, “Yes, who’s calling?”
“I’m Connor’s mum, Belinda, and I was hoping I could take a few minutes of your time to chat with you about Connor.”
Her heart thumped. “Is Connor okay?”
“Not really …”
Liz sunk to the kitchen floor as Connor’s mum told her the news, her free arm hugging her chest. When it seemed that Belinda had told her everything, Liz winced, lamenting the loss of Connor’s arm as though her own had been ripped from its socket. “How did you get my phone number?”
“Roberta,” she said, pausing for a split second before continuing, “and you’re not to get angry with her. She rang about six weeks ago when Connor was barely conscious to apologise for what she’d said to him.”
Sitting up straighter, resentment speared through Liz’s chest. “So, she already knows about the amputation?”
“Yes, and that’s why it’s important you don’t take it out on her. She knew you would feel this way, but at the time, both Roberta and your cousin Sally thought it was best to wait until I made contact again before telling you anything.”
Sally, too?
“I’d also hoped Connor might’ve said something to me, but he’s been very tightlipped about his trip to Italy, and I’ve only learnt a little from Roberta.”
Cracking her knuckles against the tiled floor, Liz snapped, “Well, what am I supposed to do?”
“Well … I was hoping …”
Across the thousands of kilometres between them, Liz sensed she’d hit a raw nerve with her abrupt words and knew the quiver in Belinda’s voice was not because of any interference on the line. Cringing, she blurted, “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to say it like that. I’m sorry for what’s happened to Connor, and I would like to help.”
And see Connor again?
“Thanks, Liz. I’d appreciate anything you can do. You’re the last straw. I need someone to help him out of the dark hole he’s buried himself in. Roberta told me about your grandmother and how her health is deteriorating rapidly. If you feel you cannot possibly do what I am about to ask, I will understand. But … I just need someone who can make Connor realise his life is worth living. Roberta said he fell in love with you and … and I’m desperate, Liz … really desperate to get my son back. I’ll do anything.”
Love?
Belinda’s voice wavered on the last sentence, and she let out a small cry followed by a sniff. With her bottom lip caught between her teeth, Liz dug her fingers back and forth across her scalp and squeezed her eyes tight, preparing for the request she knew was coming.
“All you need to do is name a day and turn up at the airport. I’ll have everything organised from my end. You don’t even have to stay long.” Belinda sniffled, and Liz dropped her head back, looking up at the ceiling.
Do I open Pandora’s Box and expose myself to all those feelings again? Sighing, she closed her eyes again, and a pair of sea-green ones framed by dark hair and a gorgeous dimple sat right before her. If she concentrated hard enough, she could feel the graze of his fingers on her cheek and smell his expensive cologne. But what about Nan? Could she risk being away from her again? She opened them again when Belinda continued speaking.
“Liz? Liz? Are you still there?”
Taking a deep breath, she answered, “Yes, I’m still here.”
“I know it’s a long way for you to come, but I’m hoping your presence might jolt him out of his depression. He’s not in a good place.”
And where will it put me? Somehow, she’d relegated Connor’s memory to the deep recesses of her heart, taken out on special occasions where she could relive them alone.
“Liz … are you okay? I don’t mean to upset you, but from what Roberta said, you might’ve parted on a misunderstanding?”
Liz couldn’t help the groan she sent hurtling down the line. Her face dropped to her raised knees while her eyes burned with unshed tears. “You could say that.”
“Oh, Liz, I’m really sorry this happened. Will you think about my request? Can I phone you tonight, your time? I promise, whatever your answer is, I won’t force you to do anything you don’t want to do. I’m desperate because … because he’s such a mess.”
When Belinda’s crying became audible again, Liz sat up and waited, giving her some time.
After a few moments, Liz ventured to say, “Are you okay?”
“Oh, Liz, it’s my fault he flew back to Canada that day. If it wasn’t for my stupidity, none of this would’ve happened.”
Liz had no idea what she meant, and it wasn’t her place to ask. She remembered Connor saying he had to return for a family emergency. Her heart went out to Belinda who, after all, was a mother doing the best she could for her son. “Belinda, ring me later tonight, and I promise I’ll have an answer. I have to see if I can make arrangements for my grandmother. I can’t promise more than a few days if I agree to come.”
The rush of relief flowed down the line to Liz, who had now risen and was pacing the kitchen floor.
“Thank you, Liz, thank you so much. I’ll ring you at about eight tonight.”
Liz dropped the phone onto the kitchen table after the call ended. Shock set in. Connor without an arm? She rubbed the back of her neck, her muscles twitching under her skin. Trying as hard as she could, her mind was determined to remember Connor with both arms. Especially when they’d been wrapped tightly around her.
She leant over the kitchen sink and stared out into the yard. There was a lot to process. Belinda had said it was his right arm, so that meant a lot of life-changing adjustments for Connor to accept. Could she help him? All this time since leaving her in Falerna, he’d been dealing with this, and she’d had no idea. Should she phone him? His number was still in her list of contacts and she’d been so close to deleting it many times. She pushed the thought away. If Connor was in a bad way, she would wait until she was there in person. Oh, Connor, I’m so sorry for doubting you.
She moaned into the quiet of the house and wearily rubbed her eyes. First things first. A phone call was necessary to Roberta and Sally to blast the blazes out of them for keeping her in the dark. She would hold Sally to ransom for keeping this a secret, and she and her mum would have no choice but to take care of Nan for a few days.
Thank God she’s been really good lately. A weight lifted from her chest.
She pushed back from the sink and began to laugh. So much so, happy tears streamed down her face. Sally and her mum would jump at the opportunity to help her out, so there was no decision to make.
She was going to Toronto to see Connor.
Crazy piano accordion music started playing in her head, and she erupted into a dance—alone—in her kitchen, twirling and spinning wildly until she spun out of control and stumbled to the floor. There she sat for ages, with a grin from ear to ear and her arms wrapped around her knees. Was it possible seeing Connor again might make her happy?
CHAPTER 30
Liz stood in front of the elaborate dresser combing her hair and trying to ignore the butterflies swirling in her stomach. She put down her comb, reached for her lipstick and dabbed some on.
She’d arrived in Toronto late the previous evening and was whisked away from the airport by Belinda’s personal driver, Adrian. She’d slept very little on the flight over. Once she was seated on the plane, with the two hectic days of preparation behind her, she’d had trouble settling. With too much time to think, her thoughts seemed intent on invading her personal space. What if Connor is too messed up? She pictured his dark hair falling across his vibrant eyes. Heard his witty laughter. Recalled the beating of his heart when he held her in his arms. Felt the touch of his lips as they brushed against hers.
She couldn’t picture a troubled man with one arm.
Sighing, she ran her fingers through her hair, deciding not to tie it back. After her arrival and introduction, Belinda had organised a chamomile tea and a toasted sandwich before insisting she went to bed to allow her body to sleep away the jetlag.
Making a weird face at herself in the mirror, she almost laughed but instead allowed a small smile to emerge. She’d had a good nights’ sleep and was feeling refreshed.
Reaching for the jug of water on the dresser, she gulped down half a glass before grabbing her handbag. She opened it and checked her phone was switched on. Sally promised to send her daily updates on her grandmother, and she didn’t want to miss any of them.
She took one last glance at herself in the mirror and hoped her snug jeans and comfortable cotton shirt were appropriate. Then she dismissed the thought. What did it matter how she dressed? Grabbing her jacket from the back of the chair, she made for the door. She took a deep breath, held onto it for a few seconds, then released it slowly before turning the handle. Breakfast first, then I get to see Connor.
Adrian held the car door open, allowing her to step inside. “Morning, Miss Liz.”
Liz put on her sunniest smile, returned his greeting and thanked him for his help. The weather resembled a perfect autumn morning, but she buttoned up her jacket to keep that little bit warmer. Belinda followed her, turning to wave goodbye to Phil, who was leaving shortly to go to the office.
It was hard to miss the dark circles under Belinda’s eyes. Worry was etched on her face as her hands smoothed and re-smoothed her soft, aquamarine skirt.
“We’re only a few minutes’ drive from where Connor is staying.” Belinda absently pinched the skin at her throat as she turned to Liz. “I hope he’s had a restful couple of days. I haven’t seen him since the day I phoned you.” She turned back towards the car window and muttered, “He wanted a bit of space.”
Liz reached across and squeezed her hand. “I hope I can make a difference.” When Belinda faced her again, Liz smiled, saying, “Let me guess, stubborn as a mule?”
Belinda tried to smile, but it was a hard-fought war between wanting to smile and wanting to cry, and it wasn’t long before tears trickled down her cheeks. “Just like his grandfather.” She sniffled into a tissue.
Liz held onto her smile. Where did Belinda’s husband fit in? She understood enough to know Phil wasn’t her husband. Connor had told her his parents were married. Was that conversation only two months ago? Had so much changed for Connor in that time?
She had little time to think further as Adrian turned into an underground car park. The sudden lack of sunlight dampened her spirits and left her pulse floundering in the dark. What if I can’t make a difference? What if Connor doesn’t want to see me?
Connor lay awkwardly with his left shoulder digging into something hard. He wasn’t lying on his bed, but he couldn’t remember why. His mouth tasted papery, and slowly, the memory of how much alcohol he’d drunk the previous night slipped into his memory bank. Absently, he ran his tongue over dry, caked lips and moaned. Pins and needles pierced his skin when he shifted on the couch.
As though stuck together with glue, he struggled to prise his eyes apart. The bright shafts of light streaming through the windows aimed straight for his pupils, and his reflexes slammed them shut again. Shit, I forgot to close the blinds. Where the bloody hell is the remote? There were three remotes somewhere, and he didn’t have the faintest idea where any of them were.
With his eyes firmly closed, he heard noises coming from his bedroom. It didn’t sound like the usual noises his nurse would make. He shifted his head to hear it better. His teeth clamped down hard when he recognised the sounds consistent with two lovers in bed. Is this why I’m sleeping out here? He had the urge to cover both his ears with his hands until he remembered he only had one hand. The usual blackness descended on him, coating itself around his heart, leaving him hopelessly depressed and wanting to bawl like a small child.
His father had insisted on organising a party with a few old friends. Connor had gone along with the suggestion, not caring. He’d lost count of how many arrived and how few were his friends. The easy flow of drinks had dulled his mind.
Shifting to a more comfortable position, he half suspected a couple of empty beer bottles were digging into his skin. If he rolled away, he’d only find pain of another sort. Choosing the lesser of the two evils, he stayed put. He would try sleeping again and not wake up for the rest of the day. His sore head could use more sleep.
He tried shutting out the muted groans coming from his room while his nose twitched at the smell of cigarette fumes punctuating the air. For some reason, he couldn’t tolerate its stench that morning, and its odour pressed down, heavily coating the clothes he wore from the previous night. Bloody hell, I must’ve flaked out right here.
The sound of a key turning in the front door lock interrupted his attempt to nod off; it would be the nurse. She’ll sort out the pair in the bedroom, whoever they are.
Unintentionally listening for the sound of the nurse’s flat work shoes, he frowned when he heard the clack of heels and what sounded like a second pair of shoes. Mother? She hadn’t been to see him for nearly a week, but he’d been too stubborn to ring and apologise. He was no better than his father.
The footsteps sounded closer, which meant they were past the kitchen and heading towards the lounge.
“Connor?”
His heart did a triple beat at his mother’s anguished voice. When his eyes snapped open, his world tilted when he stared into the tormented face of his mother and the hallucination of Liz standing beside her.
With his hand trembling and dizziness a threat, he struggled to sit up. Rising to face his mother and Liz, his weakened legs shook in his jeans. It only worsened as he surveyed the full impact of the previous night’s disgrace.
Disappointment was written across his mother’s face, and it oozed from every crevice of her body. Her shoulders drooped and, for once, her make-up didn’t hide her weariness. She looked around the room, and Connor followed her movements, not daring to look at Liz. What is she doing here?
There were empty beer and spirit bottles strewn everywhere. Ashtrays overflowed with cigarette butts, and trays of partially eaten food were scattered around the room. Chairs lay toppled on the floor.
His bedroom door opened, and Connor’s jaw dropped when his father walked out wearing a white, long-sleeved shirt with one button done up and nothing else, his crotch visible. A young woman clinging to his arm and giggling wore a thin slip that did nothing to cover her nakedness.
His father stopped midstride, taking in his audience. To Belinda, he said with a sneer, “Belinda, my dear good wife, I hope Phil is keeping you warm at night?” He reached for the young women’s bare buttocks and gripped one half. Pulling her close to his side as they sauntered off, he remarked, “We’re going to enjoy a shower together. It was nice to catch up with you.”
The bathroom door closing was the only sound for many awkward heartbeats until his mother whispered in a broken voice. “Why?”
Connor didn’t have the energy to shrug, and he couldn’t turn to acknowledge Liz. He willed himself not to look at her golden, honey skin. If he did, he would want to run his lips along its smoothness to taste how sweet it used to be. He clenched his jaw to keep from taking the few necessary steps so he could wind his fingers through her silky hair. And he didn’t dare look into her soulful eyes.
The persistent sound of a mobile phone punctuated the quiet air. No one moved. The phone stopped ringing. After a few seconds, it began again, and Connor snapped his gaze in Liz’s direction when she exclaimed, “Oh, it’s my phone.”
The sound of her phone ringing finally penetrated the shock that shrouded her from the first moment she walked into the room. Connor looked so sick and unwell that it was hard to believe he was the same man. She stood beside Belinda, gaping, embarrassed and finally understanding how Connor’s father fit in the picture.
Whipping her bag off her shoulder, she unzipped it and reached for the phone. Sally’s name flashing on the screen sent alarm bells clanging against her chest. She half turned away from the others, swiping the screen to answer the call.
“Sally, I’m here. Sorry I didn’t pick up the first time.” Her last message from Sally the previous night confirmed all was well with her grandmother.
“Oh, Liz, it’s your nan. She’s had a bad turn, and it doesn’t look good. We need you to come home straight away.”
Liz shut her eyes and inwardly groaned. Nan had been so good for nearly a week. Why? Why now, damn it? Why had she decided to leave? Her grandmother must’ve sensed she wasn’t there. Tears welled up behind her lids, and she gripped the phone tighter as Sally desperately tried to get her attention.
“Liz, Liz are you there?”
Taking a deep breath, tears brimmed on the edge of her lashes. “Yes, Sal, I’m still here, and I’ll make my way back immediately. I’ll ring you as soon as I’m organised.”
