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© 2002 Allie McCormack
Wishes in a Bottle
by
Allie McCormack
Chapter 1
The tires of her little VW squealed as Alessandra made the turn into the
parking lot too sharp, too fast. Despite the anger surging through her, she took
time out to pat the faded maroon dashboard apologetically.
"Sorry, Patsy."
She found a parking place more easily than she’d expected in the busy
hospital lot. It was as much frustration and resentment that made her blood boil
as she parked the car and headed towards the large white building. Little Bobby
lay dying, and her so-and-so brother-in-law was too busy to come sit at his
bedside, to support his wife as she grieved, to be there for both of them as
they awaited the end. Too busy! That’s always how it was in her family,
she steamed. When did Robert think he’d have time to spend with his son? To
say goodbye? Did he think it would be when they both met in that Great Car
Dealership in the sky? Personally, if she had anything to say in the matter,
Robert would be going the other direction. As if it wasn’t bad enough he’d
left Laura to deal with their critically ill son alone all these months, through
the anxious times of Bobby’s chemotherapy and a bone marrow transplant, but to
be away now!
By the time she reached the ward where Bobby lay... where he’d spent the
last six days, and would never leave, never see his home again... Alex found she
was grinding her teeth. This would never do. She stopped in the hallway outside
Bobby’s room, drawing a deep breath. It was Bobby and Laura who were
important, she reminded herself. Just forget about Robert for now.
She took another deep breath and, reaching for the doorknob, opened the door
and went into the room. She stopped in surprise at the sight of a total stranger
seated at Bobby’s bedside, her sister nowhere to be seen.
The dark-haired young man, about in his mid-20's, rose to his feet as she
stared at him.
"Hi. Laura’s just gone downstairs for some coffee." And for a
little quiet, private time to cry, the sadness in his deep blue eyes told her.
Alex held her hand out. "I’m Alex... Laura’s sister. It’s good of
you to come visit."
"I’m Damien." He wasn’t much taller than her; perhaps a couple
of inches over her own 5'8". His black hair fell long and straight over the
collar of his white shirt, the ebony of his hair and eyebrows emphasizing the
bright azure blue of his eyes, the glowing, healthy tan of his skin. Such a
contrast to the poor, wasted form of the little boy in the hospital bed.
Bobby stirred, opening his eyes to look blearily around.
"Aunt Alex?"
His voice was a thread of sound, and Alex wanted to weep for the robust,
laughing boy she’d known.
"Yes, darling." She moved to his bedside, taking the thin hand that
groped for hers. "I’m here."
The other small hand gripped the hand of the man across from her, Alex noted,
with a strength that seemed almost unnatural for a child at death’s door.
"Alessandra!" Laura stood in the doorway, carefully balancing two
styrofoam cups. Alex went to her, taking the cups and putting them aside so she
could hug her sister.
"Oh, Alex, I’m so glad you came." Her older sister was weeping,
tears falling on Alex’s shoulder. Laura had lost more weight over the last few
days, Alex noted, and her sister’s slender form was trembling, the clutch of
her fingers convulsive as she held tightly to Alex. "Thank you. Thank you
so much."
Anger surged through her again at Robert’s callous defection. Damn it, he
should be here!
On the other side of Bobby’s bed, the young man, Damien, stood watching
them, an overwhelming sympathy in his intent gaze. Lifting her head from Alex’s
shoulder, Laura appeared to remember they weren’t alone in the room.
"Oh! Alex, you’ve met Damien? He’s been such a blessing... the last
couple of days." Laura’s voice broke. She leaned down to kiss her son,
and Alessandra saw Bobby smile. It was a shadow of his warm, sunny smile, but he
had a calmness, an acceptance, in his young face that hadn’t been there
before.
"It’s okay, Mom."
Alex’s heart broke all over again as Bobby comforted his mother, their
roles oddly reversed. She watched as Damien smiled down at the boy, squeezing
his hand with reassurance; watched Bobby smile back. Clearly they’d reached
some mutual understanding. Whatever it was, she was glad for Bobby’s sake, and
she could appreciate the fervent gratitude in her sister’s voice.
"It’s so odd," Laura told her when Alex accompanied her out of
the room to get more coffee; not that they needed it, but it was an excuse to
talk alone. "I’d swear I’ve never seen him before, but Bobby knew him
instantly. Apparently he has a store near Bobby’s school bus stop. Or works in
one. But he showed up two days ago, and has stayed."
"Which is more than Bobby’s own father has done." Alex couldn’t
keep the resentment out of her voice.
Laura struggled with that, reaching for excuses that sounded lame even to her
own ears. "He’s very busy."
Alex killed that with one look. "His son is dying. He should be
here. He should have been here to support you, to help you cope with all
this."
"His job..." Laura faltered, coming to a halt at Alex’s angry
look.
"Robert’s father-in-law owns the company," Alex reminded
her. "Our father, remember? Pop would have given him all the time he
needed, if he’d asked for it."
Tears came to Laura’s eyes, and her shoulders drooped. "I know,"
she whispered. "Sometimes I think he married the company, not me. But it’s
not like he doesn’t provide for us... such a nice home, a van for me to
carpool with the neighbors to and from school..."
Alex bit back the bitter criticism that rose to her lips. Now wasn’t the
time, and Laura had never wanted to hear it. None of them had. Every one of Alex’s
five sisters had fallen right in with the plans their father had laid out for
them, had married the men chosen for them like dutiful daughters, had raised
their children and taken care of their homes like dutiful wives, bending like
reeds to the will of the men in their lives; first their father, and then their
respective husbands.
But not Alex. Never would she be caught in the trap her sisters were in, the
trap their mother had been caught in. She’d never allow any man... or woman,
for that matter... to rule her life, dictate her choices, make decisions for
her.
"We should be getting back." Laura’s voice waivered. "The
doctors say it won’t be long now... before..."
Her face crumpled, and Alex wrapped her arms about her sister, hugging her
fiercely.
"I know," she told her. "I know. I’m so sorry, Laura. So, so
sorry."
"You love him too," Laura whispered. "You always did. I’m
glad you’re here, Alex. I’m glad you’re both here... you and Damien."
~*~
Damien watched the sisters silently as they returned, their hands tightly
clasped. It was good the younger woman had come, to be there for Laura. He’d
needed to give the child all he could, but the mother was so fragile, so
heartbroken. The sister, Alex, loved them both, and although she radiated anger
as well as grief, she struggled to bury the anger, to attune herself to the
needs of her sister and the child. She did it, he thought, with the ease of long
practice... Alex was more comfortable here in this hospital room than her
sister, despite the months little Bobby and his mother had spent in and out of
the hospital. She could be a nurse, but somehow he didn’t think so. She had
none of the brisk efficiency, the ability to distance herself from the pain and
suffering that a nurse had to achieve or burn out. There was an inner strength
to her, determination in the set of her pretty, wide mouth, and more than
average intelligence in her eyes, which were the deep green of pine needles. Her
hair was long and straight, the color of honey. Despite himself, he felt his
interest stir. There were secrets in those green eyes, and depth, and he was
curious to know more about her.
He wrenched his attention away from her, back to the young boy lying in the
bed. Bobby felt the lack of his father’s presence, he knew, but Bobby had
begged him not to speak about it before his mother.
"She doesn’t understand," he told Damien, his childish voice wise
beyond his years. "Dad doesn’t care. He never cared about me. It bothers
her, and she’s afraid it bothers me. She’s going to miss me so much when I
die. Try to help her, Damien. Please?"
"I will," Damien promised rashly, knowing how hard it might be for
him to keep that promise. "I’ll do as much as I can."
Watching the boy’s pretty aunt, Damien was sure that the anger and
resentment that lurked in her eyes, in the slight gripping of her lips, had
their root in the absence of Bobby’s father. He sensed, too, Laura’s hurt
and bewilderment, and her resigned acceptance as well.
Well, he couldn’t make the man care. Not without a Jinn-wish. It was
too strong a spell for him to accomplish with his own magic, even if these last
two days hadn’t been draining his energy steadily. It was against every rule
of the binding spell for him to be here, and it was taking its toll on him. But
he would stay until the end.
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