Chapter 23

Just as she had expected, the next few days consisted of sheer boredom in bed, broken only by Henry’s visits and Andrea’s calls. She couldn’t believe how relieved she was when she got that first call.

“How are you?”

“Andrea?” Morgan could barely keep her excitement in check.

“Miss me already, huh?”

“Yeah, I do.” There was really no point in hiding it. Morgan wanted her back where she belonged, in New York City.

“No snappy comeback?” Andrea asked, surprised.

“Not this time,” Morgan said soberly.

“Are you sure you’re okay?”

“Yeah, just tired, sore, and bored. And I miss you.” Morgan asked the question that had been haunting her since she woke up in the hospital alone. “Why did you leave?”

“It wasn’t my decision, believe me. The captain pointed out that you would be under the microscope from the upper brass over this one, and he thought it prudent that I take some R and R back home. I can see his point, but it didn’t make it any easier to leave.”

“I’m glad to hear you didn’t want to leave.” Had Morgan tipped her hand by saying such things? At this point she didn’t care.

“Really? I missed you, too, Mo.” Andrea emphasized the nickname she used.

“What about the case?”

“The DA relieved me of the case and gave me time off to recuperate. They thought I was too close to prosecute it. Whatever. It’s out of my hands, and I can concentrate on you.”

“You can?” Morgan had a sense of wonder in her voice. Things were just... happening.

“I sure can. I should be home in a day or two, whenever I can get my mother off my back.”

“Is she still trying to plan your wedding?” Morgan certainly hoped not.

“Yeah. This R and R is turning out to be anything but. Besides, I want to get back to my apartment... and you.”

“Are—are you sure this is what you want? That I’m what you want? Even after the incident in the shower?”

“Incident, Morgan? You mean do I still want you after we made love in the shower? Now more than ever.”

Now more than ever. Andrea had said those words with utter conviction, leaving Morgan no choice but to simply accept them.

“Anyhow, I’ll let you rest because you’re going to need it.”

“I am?” What was Andrea going to do to her?

“Yeah, there’s much more of New York to investigate with you.”

Morgan heard the chuckle down the phone line as they finished their conversation. She hung up, feeling giddy but relieved at the same time. Yes, Andrea led her into a trap with carefully worded connotation, and Morgan had fallen for it. But Andrea had enjoyed the sex, and she wanted more. That was the bottom line despite the double entendres. Yes, she was going to need her rest. Just as she hung up the phone, there was a knock at the door followed by the slip of a key into the keyhole. Henry had arrived.

“Hey, boss? You up to visitors?” he called from the front door.

“Sure.” What could she say? No? Henry had been more than generous with his time, cleaning up after her, making sure there was food in the fridge, and basically just keeping her company. She owed him for that.

“Auntie Morgan!” The screeches were amplified in the small bedroom as the kids came running in and jumped all over her bed.

“Eww,” Sophie said as she spotted Morgan. “What’s that?” Her finger pointed directly at Morgan’s slowly healing eye.

“Yeah, not a pretty sight, is it?”

“Jesus, Morgan, look at you,” Suzie said. “Henry said you got hurt, but he didn’t tell me it was this bad.”

“So everyone keeps saying.” Now Morgan really felt good about herself. Not.

“Hey, get off that bed!” Suzie hollered and the children reluctantly complied. “Go and help Daddy with the bags.” She shooed them out the door.

“Bags?” Were they moving in?

After the kids left and silence returned to the bedroom, Suzie sat on the edge of the mattress and gently patted Morgan’s leg.

“How are you holding up?”

“Besides being bored out of my brain? Fine. Your husband has been driving me nuts with his constant attention. Doesn’t he have a home to go to?”

“That’s my Henry,” Suzie said. “He’s a real sweetie.”

Morgan didn’t think of him as a sweetie, but she wasn’t married to him. But she could certainly agree with the sentiment. Henry was a Godsend. “So what’s all this about bags?”

“He’s just stocking up your shelves, Old Mother Hubbard.”

“I do quite well, thank you very much.” But she couldn’t deny it. Her eating habits were shit.

“Henry tells me your physical therapy starts tomorrow.”

“Yeah, I’m not particularly looking forward to it.”

“You need to get back on that leg, Morgan. It was touch and go with all that swelling around the knee at the beginning. Take the gift you’ve been given, my friend. You don’t want to end up relying on a cane.”

“You can say that again.” She had an insight into that world with her broken wrist. “I’ll be a good girl, so stop worrying. I might not like it, but I’ll do it.”

Henry appeared at the bedroom door. “All done.”

“You are a bad boy, Mr. Chang,” Morgan said.

“And you are a bad patient, Ms. O’Callaghan.” He turned around and called out to his kids, “Come on, everyone, let’s let Auntie Morgan get some sleep.” He ushered his brood out and pushed them toward the front door.

“Hey, bro?” Morgan waited for Henry to appear at the bedroom door. “You are one in a million, buddy.”

“Just don’t forget that when you’re handing out promotions, boss.”

“As if.” She waved her good hand at him, sending him on his way. If she ever did get into a position where she could grant his wish, she would be there with her wand.

Morgan came home from her first therapy session, her knee and wrist aching from the stress they had been put through. A few mental reminders of what was at the end of all the pain had kept her going. Her therapist’s jovial smile and sunny disposition grated on her so much that Morgan was ready to punch her into next week. She was doing the best she could, and the woman wasn’t satisfied, constantly trying to push her to do more.

So here she was, flat on her back on her bed after her first session, her raised arms lying next to her head. She looked up at the ceiling and wondered if it would ever end. But for now, all she wanted to do was have a nap. Who knew that gentle exercise would be so exhausting?

There was a knock at the door, and she chose to ignore it. She was just too damned tired to argue with a door-to-door salesman. The knocking stopped and she breathed easily. The knock returned, a little louder this time, and it sounded like the knocker was not going to leave without talking to her.

Morgan struggled to pull herself upright and slid into the wheelchair. She pushed herself slowly to the door, her good hand trying to compensate for the weakness in her other hand. “What do you—” Her words stopped as she opened the door to Andrea.

“Hey,” she said softly, little flutters in her chest. “When did you get back?”

“Can I come in?”

“Sure. Sure. Where are my manners?” Morgan abruptly tried to move her chair backwards, but instead it swerved sideways into the wall. “Damn it.”

Andrea entered and closed the door behind her. She stepped up to Morgan’s chair and took control of it. “Where do you want to go?”

“The sofa’s fine.” Morgan looked up from her seat and smiled. She was so happy to see her again. “When did you get in?”

“About an hour ago.”

“You didn’t have to come over right away, you know.” But it meant a lot to her that Andrea had.

“Yes, I did. I went by my apartment to drop off my luggage and change my clothes.” Andrea stopped the chair and allowed Morgan to move herself onto the sofa. Once done, she shifted the chair out of the way and took her place next to Morgan on the seat.

“But I couldn’t stay away.”

Morgan looked at her. What could she say? She herself had been counting the days to Andrea’s return. “So,” she said uncomfortably.

“Run out of things to say already?” Andrea teased.

“Not really, no, but I’m not sure what to say here.”

“You could say ‘kiss me, you fool,’ but that’s just me.”

Morgan did as she was told and repeated, “Kiss me, you fool.”

Andrea did as she was asked and kissed her, withdrawing a moment later to rub her lip.

“You okay?” Morgan wondered whether she had done something wrong.

“Yeah, it just tickled.”

“Oh, the scar.”

“When did the stitches come out?”

“A couple of days ago. It’s still a bit rough. Sorry.”

“Don’t be. I’m just glad to see it’s on the mend.” Andrea’s hand came up and cupped Morgan’s cheek. “So close,” she whispered.

“Everything’s fine,” Morgan said.

“But I could have lost you.”

“You didn’t. Besides, I’d do it all over again to protect you.” A tear formed in Andrea’s eye, and Morgan gazed in wonder as it trickled slowly down her cheek.

“Don’t cry, Andy.” Morgan moved in and placed a gentle kiss on Andrea’s cheek.

“You called me Andy.”

“Hmm... I wonder why? I much prefer Andrea.” Morgan dismissed the conversation as her lips pressed against Andrea’s. They lost themselves in each other for a while, putting aside the various aches and pains to enjoy the emotion flowing between them. As much as they wanted to take it farther, they silently agreed Morgan wasn’t up to that sort of exercise. Not yet.

Morgan had been a week into her physical therapy, and as had been the ritual in the days before, she was reading a book in the hospital cafeteria while she waited for Henry to pick her up during his lunch hour. At first the therapy had been slow, painful, and very frustrating, but after only a few sessions, she was noticing a difference. Her leg was losing its stiffness, and she was getting back some mobility. She would have moved up to crutches, but as her mending wrist wasn’t up to supporting that much weight yet, she was bound to the wheelchair for a few more days. She couldn’t wait for the day to come when she could step out of that chair and walk with a cane.

She had been engrossed in her book when a voice called to her.

“Hello there.” It wasn’t Henry. She looked up to see Arthur Vaughan.

“Hello, Morgan.”

“Hey, how are you? What are you doing here?” She noted the flowers nestled in his arm.

“Just visiting a friend,” he said. “May I join you?”

Morgan looked around, wondering whether this was a good idea, but no one seemed to be noticing. “Sure. Sit down. Good to see you, Mr. Vaughan.”

“Arthur.”

“Arthur.” She couldn’t get used to calling him by his first name.

“I suppose I wanted to say sorry for my family. Well, for Chelsea, and what she did to you and Ms. Worthington. You’ve done a lot for me, and I’m in your debt.” Vaughan put the flowers on the table.

“Arthur, we put your child in jail. You should be cursing the police department right now.”

He looked at her sadly. “I should have seen this coming.” He held up a hand. “No, before you speak, I had known Chelsea was getting out of hand. I just didn’t realize how badly.”

“No one could have seen this coming, Arthur.”

“But she’s my child and therefore my responsibility. I’m just so sorry you had to suffer because of it.”

“Speaking of which, I don’t understand. What’s with this attachment you’ve got to me?” Morgan asked bluntly.

“I’m not sure. I’ve asked myself that very question many times since the day I laid eyes on you. I don’t know. I really don’t. I saw something in you that called to a part of me.”

Morgan couldn’t argue with that. She felt the same way. “Now you know why I helped you. I can’t explain it, either.”

He smiled and glanced at the ceiling. “Maybe someone up there wanted us to get together.”

Morgan’s first thought went to her dad. “Maybe someone did.”

“You would be a daughter any man would be proud of.”

“I don’t know if I can live up to that.” Morgan wasn’t quite ready yet to replace her dad.

“Can we at least be friends?”

“And then what?”

“Please?”

She looked into his eyes, and gave in. “All right. Friends.” She smiled. “Just don’t expect me to fix your chauffeur’s parking tickets.”

He laughed. “I can live with that. Is there anything you need?”

“Don’t go spoiling me. I’ll never live it down.”

“Can we meet from time to time? Just to talk, Morgan. I enjoy your company very much. It’s so nice to talk to someone who doesn’t expect something in return or is too scared to speak their mind.”

“It would probably be wise to leave this until after the court case, Arthur. It could be misconstrued as you trying to exert some influence on the matter. In fact—”

“You’re right, of course. Then I’ll take my leave.” He stood up.

“Before you go, how did you know I was here?”

“Detective Chang was most helpful. A speedy recovery, my dear, and I will await your call.”

“Goodbye, Arthur.” When he walked away, Morgan called out.

“You forgot your flowers for your friend.”

“No, I didn’t.” He smiled and walked away.

When Morgan was able to move around with a cane, Andrea threw a small dinner party, inviting Henry and Suzie, Morgan of course, and Markham and Velasquez. Morgan’s eyes never left Andrea when she was in the room. She couldn’t fault her. Andrea played the perfect hostess and showed them her apartment. Then she asked Henry to keep everyone’s drink topped while she attended to the food.

Morgan had spent her time looking at all the pictures and knickknacks on the well-appointed shelves. They told a lot about a person, she had found, and what was scattered around only confirmed her opinion of Andrea. One particular framed photo took her interest, showing Andrea with a small child. Morgan frowned. Who was this?

“What’s wrong?” Andrea asked.

“Who’s this?” The words tumbled from Morgan’s mouth. She hadn’t noticed Andrea’s arrival.

Andrea took the picture out of Morgan’s hands and glanced at the photo. “He’s my angel,” she said.

“Angel?” Morgan faltered. She wanted to know, but she didn’t want to know. She drew in a deep breath and asked, “Is he your son?”

“My son? Where on earth did you get an idea like that?”

“Well, you look old enough to be his mom in the photo.”

“Oh. No, that’s Beau. My little brother.”

Morgan released a breath. “And why do you call him your angel?”

Andrea moved to a large stuffed chair and sat down, forcing Morgan to follow her if she wanted the story.

“This picture was taken before— Just after this picture was taken, Beau contracted meningitis. It was so severe that it left him deaf and brain damaged.”

Oh, God. Why had she brought the subject up? But she knew the answer. She was fearful that Andrea was hiding one more secret from her. That damned trust issue reared its ugly head again. “I’m so sorry,” she whispered, but somehow those words were so inadequate at a time like this.

“Don’t be. It’s not your fault. It’s not anyone’s fault.” Andrea smiled. “It took me many hours of introspection to figure that one out.”

“So that’s where you learned sign language.”

“Yes. Not that he understands that much. He’s twelve now, but mentally he’s about five. It’s been slow progress, but he’s learning.”

“He wasn’t with your family at the hospital.”

“No, he doesn’t react well to change. They thought it better for him to stay in his routine. He’s much happier that way. He’s such a sweet, sweet child, so young and innocent. He’s my angel.”

Morgan shifted so she was sitting beside Andrea, and she took her hand in silent comfort. Even the most affluent of families could be struck down by the hand of Fate.

“Are you two going to be playing patty-cake all night?” Markham asked.

“Sure, we’re moving on to Tic-Tac-Toe next.” Morgan’s comment brought a round of chuckles from those in the room.

“Well,” Andrea said, “dinner is about ready. Would you all like to adjourn to the dining room?”

The guests followed the hostess. They took their seats at the dinner table that was beautifully laid out with all the trimmings.

“Dining room,” Morgan muttered aside to Henry, “I don’t even have a dining table.”

“Stop complaining, Red. Our dining table looks like the storming of the beaches at Normandy on D-Day.”

“Good point. Let’s eat.”