03 Trial by Fury by J A Jance

Author:J A Jance [Jance, J A]
Format: epub
Published: 0101-01-01T00:00:00+00:00

In the dream Mimi was young again, young and beautiful and living in California with Winston. They had just moved into a new house, a beautiful place overlooking Santa Barbara. Winston was so very proud of it. “I love it,” he said, “and I love you.”

The shock of hearing those words again, and hearing them from him, caused her eyes to pop open. Yes, he had said them once, but had he ever meant them?

For a disorienting moment, Mimi couldn’t figure out where she was. Then she saw the cross hanging on the wall and knew she was in a hospital, a hospital somewhere in Phoenix.

She was afraid Hal would have disappeared somehow. Her eyes darted quickly to the right, but there he was, dozing in the same chair where he’d been sitting wide awake the last time she had drifted into a drug-induced asleep. His chin had fallen to his chest; his hands lay loose and open in his lap. His clothes were wrinkled, his hair rumpled. Had he been sitting in that chair watching over her all night long? He must have been.

Already the pain was knocking at the edge of her consciousness, but her heart was filled with gratitude. Hal was here. She knew he loved her in a way Winston never had. She wanted to tell him that, but of course she couldn’t, not with the ventilator in her throat.

Sister Anselm appeared. She looked tired, too. She walked over to Hal and shook his shoulder. “Mimi’s awake,” she said.

Hal jolted upright. He looked around wildly for a moment, as if he didn’t quite understand where he was or who Sister Anselm might be. Then he nodded. “Thanks,” he said.

He stood up stiffly and came over to the side of the bed. When he looked down at her, his face looked so haggard and worn that Mimi wanted nothing more than to reach up and touch him and tell him thank you.

“Good morning, Mimi girl,” he said. “How’s my honey bun? Did you have sweet dreams?”

How could she answer that with one blink or two? The dream about Winston hadn’t been sweet at all, but it was far better than the other nightmare, the one about the fire. The one where she was on fire. That dream had mercifully ceased for good once she saw Hal’s face and knew he was there beside her.

She understood what Hal was really doing in asking about her dreams—stating his hopes for her. He was praying that in spite of the machines and the pain she really was okay; that she was comfortable; that she was sleeping peacefully. And so she answered his question by responding instead to all the things he didn’t say, and when she answered those unasked questions, she lied. She blinked once for yes.

“Sister Anselm showed me how to push the button,” he said. “Do you need me to do that?”

That was easy. She wanted to stay with him as long as she could, looking up into his loving eyes and bearing the pain for as long as she could.

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