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Authors: Billie Green

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BOOK: Waiting for Lila
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In the suite Delilah packed her bags with automatic movements. She had turned off her brain. She had turned off her emotions.

By the time her friends reached the suite, Delilah had the telephone in her hand and was checking with the airport to see when the next flight to Texas was leaving.

Her four friends quietly filed into the sitting room. Jack looked worried. Addie, after a moment of examining Delilah's face, had tears in her eyes. Booger kept his arm around Addie, comforting her for the unexplainable tears as he studied Delilah.

"He wasn't just another candidate, was he?" Glory asked quietly.

"He's such a wonderful man," Addie burst out. "That speech—" She broke off and cleared her throat.

"I have to admit it choked me up too," Booger said. "I really admire him."

Delilah closed her eyes. "You've just stated the problem." She opened her eyes. "Good Lord, think about it. Can any of you really picture me with a man like that? Jack? Booger? Come on, somebody tell me I'm the kind of woman he needs. Tell me you can see me at his side doing all those good things."

They all looked uncomfortable, which was the only answer Delilah had expected.

Then Glory said, "I can."

Delilah met her eyes. "You're lying. You're my friend and you want to believe I could make it with a man like Bill, but in your heart you know I'm all wrong for him."

"You can be anything you want to be, Dee," Glory said urgently. "And Bill doesn't seem to think you're the wrong woman for him."

Delilah sighed. "Bill hasn't looked into the future and seen what I've seen." She paused, staring down at her hands. "I've never told any of you about my life before I joined the rest of you. Those people . . . those people he helps, I was one of them. It was bad enough when my family was alive. Then I was alone, and it was even worse."

Lifting her chin in determination, she said, "There are only two things in life that scare me. One is poverty. You all heard what he said down there. He's chosen to live in poverty. He's free to do that. And I'm free to choose not to." She shook her head and whispered, "I can't go back to that. I can't see it all around me and not relive every second of it."

Silence fell heavily over them, then suddenly Booger said, "And the other thing?"

Everyone turned to stare at him. "What?" Delilah asked, frowning in confusion.

"You said there were two things that scare you," he said, his voice as calm and objective as always. "One is poverty. What's the other?"

Without realizing it, Booger had hit upon the key to why she had panicked, why she knew she had to leave. Closing her eyes, Delilah felt once more the emotions that had swept through her when she had listened to Bill's speech. She had had a tremendous, glowing surge of pride. And with It had come the treasonous thought that financial security didn't matter. She wanted Bill anyway.

What she had felt for Bill at that moment came very close to love. And that scared the hell out of her.

She opened her eyes and looked at Booger. "Love," she said hoarsely. "Love and poverty."

"And with Bill you would have both," Glory said, looking tired and sad. Sad for Delilah.

Delilah shook her head wildly. She wanted to deny it. She wanted to scream that she didn't love him. She couldn't possibly love him. But the words wouldn't come.

When they heard a knock on the door, Delilah knew who was there, but she didn't move. She stood by the window, looking at the bay as Addie opened the door.

"Hi, Addie," Bill said. "Lila was supposed to meet me In my room. Have you—"

He broke off and walked into the room, stopping short when he saw Delilah's bags. "Lila?"

After a moment of tense silence the group began moving out of the suite, then the door closed softly behind them.

Bill walked closer to where Delilah stood and said again, "Lila?"

This time she could hear the fear in his voice. She couldn't let it get to her. She had to pull this off. For him. For her.

Standing up straighter, she smiled slightly. "I didn't ever tell you why I came to Acapulco early, did I? I came to see the group, of course, but I also came to find a husband," she said, keeping her voice calm and steady. "The group decided to help by having a scavenger hunt to find a rich doctor for me." She met his eyes. "You were my rich doctor. Bill. Don't you see how funny that is?" Her voice broke on the last word, and she paused to regain control. "Why didn't you tell me? You mentioned working in the slums, but I thought it was the pro bono work that we all do. Why didn't you tell me about the clinic?"

He ran an unsteady hand through his hair. "I don't know," he murmured, shaking his head. "I guess I didn't think it was important. There was so much more we had to talk about."

"You didn't think it was important?" Her voice was angry and incredulous. "When you knew how I felt about being poor?"

"I didn't know. You never said— You said you wanted to be secure."

"What in hell do you think security is?" she asked, her eyes wide and angry.

A strange smile twitched across his lips, then died. "Not money," he said softly. "Not to me."

"It is to me," she said, forcing the words through tight lips. "It is to me."

There was no expression on his face now, but something told Delilah he was staying upright by sheer force of will. She drew in several deep breaths, fighting her need to hold him.

She swung away from him abruptly. "Will you stop looking at me with those damned stray-dog eyes?" she told him. "Just leave. Bill. You're a nice man. Find yourself a nice woman. One with no hangups, no horrors from the past for you to deal with. Find someone who can give you what you need, because I can't."

"You have me a little confused." His voice sounded strange, different. "Are you leaving because I don't make a lot of money or because I'm nice? Which is it. Lila?"

"It's— What difference— It's both," she got out finally. "You're too nice and too—"

"Nice," he said, spitting the word at her as he moved between her and the window, forcing her to look at him. "You keep saying that."

Suddenly his face changed, growing ugly with fury. He grabbed her roughly by the shoulders and moved her backward until she bumped into the couch, then he pressed her down with his body. "Would you stay with me if I were not so nice?" he asked, his voice harsh. "If that's what it takes, then to hell with nice."

He kissed her then. And for Delilah it was like walking through hell. There was no love in the kiss. There wasn't even passion. The grinding strength of his anger didn't hurt her, but the absence of his love broke her heart.

"Is this better, Delilah?" he said in a raspy voice. "Not quite so nice? Will you stay with me now?"

He stared down at her. Delilah didn't know what he saw in her face, but after a moment he closed his eyes tightly and pushed away from her. Rising to his feet, he turned and walked a few steps away, his shoulders sagging as though he were suddenly very weary.

With his back to her he said, "You've been engaged to half a dozen wealthy men. If money was all you needed, why didn't one of them work out? Why, Lila? I'll tell you why. Because you were looking for more. You needed more. And whether you admit it or not, you found what you needed with me. Two hours ago . . . two hours ago—" He broke off and inhaled slowly. "Now suddenly you're scared. But I don't think it's poverty that frightens you. I think you're afraid of being helpless. And that's also why you won't let yourself love."

He walked over to where she still sat on the couch and knelt beside her. "Someday, babe, you're going to figure out that the lack of money doesn't make you helpless unless you let it . . . and neither does love."

Delilah heard the words, but she couldn't take in their meaning. She was too confused. Too afraid. She was running for her life and couldn't think of anything except getting away from the pain. From Bill.

"You're hurting, Lila," he whispered softly. "I wish I could make it all better. But this time I can't. You have to work through this by yourself." He drew in a rough breath. "When you do, I'll be—"

"Don'tsay it,"she begged in desperation. "Don't wait for me. Bill. This is the end. It was a beautiful dream, but I'm a realist. Dreams fade," she said. "Reality is always there."

He stared at her for a moment, then his mouth twitched violently. "Yes, I guess you're right," he said wearily. "Reality doesn't go away."

He rose to his feet and walked to the door. When he had opened it he said, without turning to look at her, "Good-bye, Lila."

Then he walked out of the room.

Chapter 10

Delilah turned slightly, studying the face of the man in the driver's seat of the Mercedes.

Dr. Michael Linden was tall, blond, and had a smile that could charm a Dallas Cowboy linebacker. His clothes were tailor-made, discreetly elegant, tasteful, and expensive. His hair had been cut by the best stylist in the area, and there wasn't a single lock out of place. On his wrist he wore a simple gold watch, and on his middle finger of his left hand, a simple sapphire ring. His reputation as a plastic surgeon had brought his patients from both coasts and even from Europe. He was intelligent and entertaining. Dr. Michael Linden was perfect.

She glanced away from him, staring at the street ahead. Yes, she thought without emotion, he was perfect.

It had been four months since Acapulco. Only four months, but so much had happened in those months. Booger and Addie had set their wedding date, and the group was planning to fly to Kansas on the night before and celebrate by having what Booger called a Madness Marathon.

Jack had called Delilah several times in the last few months, talking for hours, building his courage to make a career move. She never gave him advice. She merely let him get all the worries out in the open. Someone had done that for her once, and she knew what a cleansing experience it could be.

The last time she talked to Jack had been in the days immediately after he had flown to Cincinnati to tell his parents about his decision to give up surgery. It had been, as expected, a rough experience for him. His father had been angry, his mother sympathetic but confused. But Jack had taken the first step, and Delilah was proud of him.

As for Glory and Alan, Delilah saw them often. Delilah had tried on more than one occasion to apologize personally to Alan for the pain she had caused him in Acapulco, but Alan refused to recognize any need for apology.

Glory was still saddened by her inability to have children, but at least now she was able to talk openly about it. Glory had been an only child and had looked forward to raising a large family. Although she still wasn't ready to think about adopting, Delilah was positive it was only a matter of time.

And what about the last member of the group
, she asked herself silently. What had Delilah Jones accomplished in the past four months?

Four months, she repeated silently. Eternity.

Inhaling slowly, she pulled her attention back to the man beside her. Moments later Michael was in the process of recounting the events of a recent trip to Switzerland when the music on the radio faded and was replaced by the soft voice of the KOAC announcer.

It didn't surprise Delilah that Michael listened to that particular station. The peppy chatter of the upwardly mobile stations or the harsh openness of the rock stations would have disrupted the calm atmosphere that surrounded Michael. And nothing was allowed to do that.

On station KOAC even the newscaster spoke in soft, reassuring tones, making the corruption, crime, and catastrophes reported seem remote and therefore less disturbing.

Suddenly, as the soothing tones of the newscaster began to actually form words and penetrate her consciousness, Delilah caught her breath, then reached over quickly to turn up the volume.

"... only minor damages and no reported deaths in Acapulco; however, isolated areas in the nearby mountains, closer to the epicenter of the earthquake, were reported to have experienced widespread destruction and loss of life. The earthquake registered 7.3 on the Richter scale. In Acapulco residents are preparing for the aftershocks which could cause even more extensive damage. The military—"

"Turn right at the next corner." Delilah said abruptly.

"I beg your pardon."

"Turn right at the next corner. I'm sorry, Michael, but this is an emergency."

She had to talk to Glory. She had to see if her friend had heard anything about Nuevo Oviedo. Delilah gave Michael brief but complete directions, and fifteen minutes later, when the car stopped in front of Glory's house, Delilah jumped out.

"I'll take a cab home, Michael," she said as she was closing the door of the Mercedes.

"But. Delilah—"

Delilah didn't hear the rest. Mrs. Anderson, Glory's housekeeper, opened the front door for her, and as Delilah opened her mouth to ask for Glory, Alan walked into the entry hall.

"Glory is on the phone with Jack," he said before she had a chance to ask. "And she's already talked to the Mexican authorities."

Delilah followed him into the study, then straightened her back in an automatic reaction to the grim look on Glory's face.

BOOK: Waiting for Lila
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