“What’s going on here?”
Both Tim and Monica turned to see Brandi standing in the doorway. Tim retrieved his bottle. “Perfect, just perfect; the other person I least wanted to see today!”
Brandi approached him. “Tim, I wanted to see you and try making up. I heard you two shouting and…”
“Really, you wanted to try and make up with me? Why? I’m a murderer, a liar, and probably an alcoholic by now. What would you want with a person like me?”
“Tim, please. I was on my way to Aunt Theresa’s house and felt the need to try once more.”
“Actually, Brandi, you are the last person I need to argue with.” His hand stretched out to Monica, as if he were introducing her. “What you see here, Brandi, is the main person who’s been wrecking my nerves today.”
“What wrong?”
“Lots. Remember your paper that you didn’t get to present at Niagara? Well, guess who had it?”
Brandi stared at Monica. “You took my paper?”
Monica grabbed her purse. “I’m leaving. I don’t care what you think, Tim. I didn’t take those discs, but you know why I would have, had I been that stupid. Besides, you have no real proof.”
“I have more than you know, Monica.”
She shot past Brandi, who stood there in disbelief as Monica left. “Tim, you’re just going to let her leave?”
“Yes. Why don’t you leave with her?” He picked up his cell phone to call Dean Moore at Madison to inform him of everything. Brandi walked off, crying.
This time, he didn’t care if she was hurting or not. He made the call, finished what was left of the scotch, and took another bottle from the liquor cabinet near his computer table. He walked into the living room to crash on the couch. Then he saw Brandi still there. “Why are you still here in my face, Brandi?”
“Because we need to talk.”
“Talk about what? How you dumped me? How you blamed me for having a brutal childhood? What the hell would I need to talk to you for?”
She walked closer to him. “You need to hear me out…”
He yelled, scaring her. “I don’t need to hear a damn thing!
Just leave.”
She had never heard him talk above a normal range, and it hit her that she had definitely blown it. Something in her still wanted to try again. So she reached for his arm, but he abruptly pulled away from her. “Tim, please listen to me. I know I hurt you.”
Ignoring her, he took his bottle and walked to the basement steps.
“Where are you going?”
“Away from you; now leave me alone, Brandi. Get the hell out of here.”
She ran to the steps and grabbed his shirt as he staggered down the stairs. “Tim, I’ve got to explain everything to you.”
He jerked away from her, losing his footing. She grabbed at his clothing, trying to stop the fall, but he tumbled down, landing head first against the cement.
“TIM!!!”
Brandi waited on pins and needles for two hours for Tim to come out of surgery. He was wheeled back into his room hours later, and she sat with him the rest of the night. Sometime that night, Dr. Hammond came in to see about Tim. Brandi was asleep, her head resting on the bed. The doctor cleared her throat, and Brandi’s head popped up. She looked up at Dr. Hammond’s face. “Who are you?”
“I’m Dr. Hammond. You must be Brandi Miles.”
“Yes. He has mentioned you before.”
“You’re all he talks about.”
That made her feel awful, because she suspected that all he had to talk about lately was her ditching him. “I’m afraid he hasn’t had the best things to say about me lately.”
“On the contrary. He feels he did everything wrong, and has had nothing but good things to say about you.”
“I’m surprised.” She heard Tim’s labored breathing. “Dr. Hammond, what’s wrong with him? No one has told me anything really, except that he has some fractured bones.”
“He also has a concussion, and the hospital has to keep monitoring him because the injury is close to the brain. His medical doctor informed me that Tim was here and I wanted to check on him. You don’t mind, do you?”
“Of course not. He needs people like you, someone who loves him. I love him, too, but I’m sure he won’t allow me to show him after what has happened between us.”
Dr. Hammond saw the terrified look on Brandi’s face and tried to console her. “Not to worry, Tim is strong. He will pull through this, and you two will be together. But that was a hell of a fall he took.”
“Before this happened, we had some problems, and I took off like a scared child instead of dealing with them.”
“It couldn’t have been easy hearing about his past life, especially after hearing about the incident in the facility he was in.”
“Knowing that another child died wasn’t easy to hear about, but it was an excuse that I used. I love him more than I can imagine loving anyone.”
“Tim is lucky to have you, because there’s no one else except for a brother and his mother, and he has no contact with them. I have counseled Tim for years now, and he has grown quite a bit, but his past still hurts him. Unfortunately, it is something I can’t erase for him.” She smoothed Tim’s bedding. “It’s late. You need to go home and rest. Tomorrow maybe you can bring some personal belongings, like a robe and slippers.”
“Sure.”
She entered Tim’s house. Any reminder of Tim’s fall down the stairs surely would make her sick. She also wanted to avoid the bedroom. She used to love it there; many a night she had laid on that bed in her lover’s arms as they talked about their future, their marriage, children…a life full of love, but now that all seemed to be gone. His bedroom was also the same room he had made wild love to her, finally making her feel what it was like to be a total woman.
But she had to go in to collect things he would need for his hospital stay. When she looked under the bed for his slippers, she noticed a picture on the floor. It was of an unborn baby—a fuzzy, hazy picture of an infant. She turned it over and read: “Our first. Isn’t she beautiful? I love you, Tim…Charlotte.”
Then it dawned on her. “Of course, his baby; the baby they lost.” She tried to put it back in a box under the bed but it was stuffed with letters, all stamped, Return to sender. They were from Tim to Greg and had a Schenectady, NY, address. “Where the heck is Schenectady?” The postmarks on the letters were more recent than on the letter she had with the White Plains address on it. She just didn’t know where to begin. Operator assistance was of no help, because there wasn’t a Gregory Polaris listed anywhere. Her only choice was to drive to the address and hope she would make it there.
The next evening she stopped by the hospital, looked in on Tim resting, and kissed his lips. “Dream of me.” Then she left for Schenectady.
* * *
“You must be Destiny.”
The little girl looked at Brandi rather strangely. “Yes, and you are…?”
“I’m Brandi Miles, a friend of your Uncle Tim’s.” Destiny had Tim’s eyes. She was a lovely girl of twelve or thirteen, tall for her age, and had almost blue-black shoulder length hair.
Destiny continued. “You’re here about Uncle Tim?”
“Yes.”
“Good, is he here? I’ve never seen him.”
“No, he isn’t. He’s sick right now. Is your father home?”
“Sick? From what?”
“Please, I need to speak to your father. It’s very important.”
“He’s in the garage working on a Mercedes Benz. He’s a mechanic, you know.” She kept looking at Brandi, having never seen beauty like hers, let alone a beautiful black woman at their house. She kept questioning Brandi instead of going to get her father. “Are you Uncle Tim’s girlfriend?”
“I am.”
Obviously, Destiny had a very curious mind, but Brandi was becoming impatient with her questions. She had driven for hours and had coped with a flat tire, little money, and a lumpy bed in a fleabag hotel that had given her a terrible backache. The only thing she wanted to deal with now was the infamous Gregory Polaris. “Will you please get your father for me?”
“Sure. You can come with me, but he may be a little dirty.”
Brandi read the sign on the door as they approached the two-door garage: GM-certified mechanics on duty. Gregory Robert Polaris, owner; Chris Mayers, Asst.
Destiny pointed under the car. “He’s under there. Dad?”
A voice sounding much like Tim’s, asked, “What is it?”
“There’s a lady here to see you.”
“Bring her over here.”
Brandi turned to Destiny. “That’s okay. I’ll walk over.”
Greg’s voice echoed again. “You go inside and wait for your Uncle Chris. He’ll be here soon.”
Brandi watched her swish off. Taking her for a customer, Greg said he would be with her soon. “Just let me tighten this hose. What’s wrong with your car? You can leave the keys with me and my partner will take you wherever you need to go when he gets here.”
Brandi cleared her voice. “I’m not here about a car. I’m here about your brother, Timothy.”