Love's Miracles

Love's Miracles by Sandra Leesmith Page B

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Authors: Sandra Leesmith
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Something else disturbed her – something that had nothing to do with
her father. “What is it? What’s bothering you about this case?”
    Bettina
began straightening the folds of her cape. “I’m worried. It’s so far. And
isolated.”
    “Is
that all?” Relief brought another chuckle. “You worry too much. You know I’m
capable of taking care of myself.”
    “Maybe
I need a grandchild to fret over.”
    “You
never give up, do you?”
    The
banter returned to the familiar as they cruised through the night traffic of
the university and then wound their way into the Berkeley hills. By the time
the cab pulled up in front of Bettina’s apartment building, Margo had eased her
mother’s anxiety for her safety, but not her own small curls of unrest.
    Both
had been unexpected. Her mother’s worry she could understand. But what had
caused the momentary discontent with her life? It had to have been Carmen .
The lilting French music and the Spanish setting always struck a chord of
romanticism; a chord she usually kept buried and out of her practical world
because it reminded her of her single status.
    She
sighed. Often she wondered what her life would be like now if she’d gone ahead
and married Paul. He’d never allow her to go to Fort Bragg. But then she might
have had children and wouldn’t want to go. However, there were always patients
who needed her. Paul never understood that. It was best they’d broken the
engagement.
    “Come
up and have some tea?” Bettina offered as she slid out the door of the cab.
    “I’d
love to, but you know if I did we’d stay up too late talking.”
    “I
suppose.” Bettina patted her daughter’s cheek with her gloved hand. “I enjoyed
tonight.”
    “Me
too.” Margo blew her a kiss.
    Bettina
stepped out into the rain and then bent down to peer into the cab. “I’ll call
and make reservations. It’s been a while since we’ve been on the Wharf.”
    “Thanks.”
    Margo
shook her head as she watched her mother enter the well-lit building. It was
always like this between them: the continual evaluation of her personal life.
And her mother was right. If she was ever going to discover the pleasures of
marriage and children she’d better get busy. The years were slipping by.
Perhaps she should refer Zane to another psychologist. Fred would…
    No.
Zane’s image focused. The haunted look in his eyes called to her – the same
look she’d seen all week, much too often. Even in her dreams she’d heard his
voice call out her name.
    Margo
shifted uncomfortably. None of her other patients had occupied her thoughts so
thoroughly. It must be his isolation , she decided. His loneliness tugged
at her heart.
    Margo
tried not to think anymore about Zane as the cab traveled the short distance to
the top of the hill where her own apartment building perched. One look at the
darkened doorway sent all thoughts of her new patient on the skid. Her heart
raced as she fought down the panic.
    “What…what
did you say?” she stammered to the cab driver, never taking her eyes from the
building.
    Impatient
and probably tired, the cabbie reminded her of the fare.
    “Right.”
Margo fumbled with her purse while she tried to think of what to do. There was
no way she could step into that hallway without any lights on.
    “Here.”
She handed the driver some bills. “What do you suppose happened to the light?”
    The
man took his money and relaxed. Margo didn’t even care that he’d been worried
about getting the large fare. “Probably blew out. It isn’t the power. I see
other lights in the building.”
    There
was that at least. Her apartment would be lit. She never left without
turning on the lights. But how to get there?
    “Look,
lady. D’ya mind gettin’ out? I gotta get back to the city.”
    “You
wouldn’t want to walk with me to my apartment, would you?”
    “I
don’t have time to play games with ya.”
    “No.
I didn’t mean…” Great. Desperation had called for desperate

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