Travelers Rest by Ann Tatlock Page B

trying to suppress a smile. “Sausalito, my man, what kind of secretary are you? You’re fired. Get Hoboken in here. He can do a better job.”
    Sausalito shook his head. “He’s not working today. You’re stuck with me. You will have to dock my pay.”
    “I’ll do that. And I’m taking away your Christmas bonus too.”
    “All right, Mr. Seth, but you are a cruel taskmaster. I ought to quit.”
    “You ought to, but you won’t.”
    “That’s right. I’m too dedicated.”
    “No. You just know no one else will hire you.”
    Sausalito threw his head back and howled in amusement. “Oh, Mr. Seth, you are right! No one else would be so stupid . . . I mean, so kind as to hire me as his secretary. I had better throw in my lot with you rather than try to find riches elsewhere.”
    Seth nodded. The smile he’d been trying to suppress broke through. “Okay, then, shall we try this again?”
    Sausalito was already staring intently at the screen. “Hi Mom and Dad . . .”
    “No, no, they got that part. Just pick up where you left off.”
    Sausalito, without moving his head, lifted his eyes to look at Seth. “I will tell them your clumsy secretary hit Send by mistake, and then we will go on from there.”
    “Very good, Saus. I’m ready when you are.”
    As Sausalito typed, Jane leaned over the bed rail and kissed Seth on the forehead. When she drew back, she felt a surge of joy to see Seth smiling at her.
    “I didn’t see you yesterday,” he said quietly.
    Jane nodded. “I came by, but you were asleep.”
    “Why didn’t you wake me?”
    “I don’t know. I thought maybe you needed the rest.”
    “Next time wake me up.”
    “Well, sure, but I—”
    “I’ve kind of gotten used to seeing you. The day doesn’t seem right when you don’t come around.”
    Jane reached out and touched his forehead, then curled her palm against his cheek. “I promise to wake you up next time.”
    Seth nodded and leaned his head into the warmth of her hand.
    “Mr. Seth?” Sausalito interrupted.
    “Yeah, Saus?”
    “I’m ready for your dictation.”
    “All right. Read back to me what you have there.”
    Sausalito cleared his throat. “‘My clumsy secretary hit Send by mistake. A thousand pardons—’”
    “Wait, Saus, I wouldn’t say a thousand pardons.”
    “You’re not. I’m the one saying a thousand pardons.”
    “But this isn’t your e-mail. You’re just the scribe here. Scratch ‘a thousand pardons.’”
    Sausalito sighed, highlighted the words, and hit the Delete key. “All right, Mr. Seth. A thousand pardons for the thousand pardons. It has been deleted. Now, to go on. ‘Please bring the Nikes. They’re in the hall closet.’” He looked up expectantly. “What do you want to say next, Mr. Seth?”
    “Let’s see.” Seth thought a moment, staring up at the ceiling.
    When a full minute had passed, Sausalito leaned forward. “Mr. Seth?”
    “I’m . . .” Seth didn’t finish.
    “Seth?” Jane leaned over the railing. “Seth, what’s the matter?”
    Seth’s eyes widened with fear. He moved his head from side to side. “I don’t know. All of a sudden my heart started pounding in my chest. I can feel it. And my head—”
    “What’s wrong?”
    “My head hurts and . . .”
    Jane laid a hand on his forehead again. It was slick with perspiration. She looked at Sausalito. “What’s happening?” she asked.
    The young Ugandan lifted the laptop to the hospital table and stood. His jaw went slack as his eyes swept over Seth’s face and down his inert body. “I don’t know, Miss Jane,” he said, his voice trembling. “I don’t know.”
    “My head . . .” Seth moaned. “My head.”
    Sausalito reached for the call button and pushed it. A light flashed on over the door, but he didn’t wait. “I’m going to get help,” he said as he rushed from the room.
    “Jane,” Seth whispered. “What’s happening to me?”
    “I don’t know. Sausalito’s gone to get help.” Her