Twilight Hunger Part 23

David began telling Lou about the hotel where he sometimes stayed while in town, at times when he didn't want to interrupt Morgan at work, as Max headed for the curving staircase and started up it. It occurred to her that Morgan had everything. She was stunningly beautiful. Odd that the same face could look so different on two people. On Max, it was average. Pa.s.sably pretty, no more. Morgan had reached the pinnacle of success in her career. Max still wasn't sure what her career was, although she thought the P.I. thing was her calling. Of course, she'd thought the same about Web design and Internet investigations. Both had gone stale for her. Morgan was wildly wealthy and had a dream house she could obviously afford to decorate exactly as she liked. Max was living in her mother's house and paying not a dime for the privilege. Morgan had a Mercedes sitting in the driveway, though it looked as if it rarely escaped from beneath its custom car cover. Max drove a VW Bug. An original VW Bug. Forest green. Got almost forty miles to the gallon. When it ran.

And yet Morgan was ill. And because of that, the rest of her wealth seemed like nothing at all.

Max tapped on the bedroom door only once. "Morgan, it's me. I'm coming in." She gave her a beat or two, then opened the door. Morgan was sitting in a chair near the French doors, staring out them.

Max walked across the room and stood beside her. "It's a beautiful view from here." And it was, a wide strip of verdant green gra.s.s, then a deep, midnight velvet band of sea, all dotted with whitecaps right now, and finally a robin's-egg blue sky with puffs of cloud floating past.

Morgan didn't speak.

Max said, "I'm leaving, Morgan. David said you wanted us out, so we're going. I only came up here to say goodbye."

Nothing. She didn't even look up at her.

"I guess you really don't give a s.h.i.t, though, do you?" Max sighed, turned on her heel, headed for the door. "I don't know why I bothered trying."

"I'm sorry, Maxine."

She stopped halfway to the door. "Are you?" When Morgan said no more, Max turned slowly. "Why are you throwing us out, Morgan?"

Morgan met Max's eyes only fleetingly, touching, then dancing away before darting back again. She couldn't hold her gaze steadily. "Who raised you?" she asked at length.

Blinking, Max said, "John and Ellen Stuart. The most wonderful middle-cla.s.s suburban couple in the world."

Morgan nodded very slowly. "And what was it like, growing up with them?"

"It was wonderful. I mean, it was a family. They loved me. The only bad time I can remember is when my dad died. That was the year I started college. It was his heart."

"And they were... involved? In your life?"

"Mom was on every committee at school, chaperoned field trips and sometimes school dances. Dad never missed a ball game or a school play." She almost smiled. "Yeah, they were involved. I always knew I was adopted. It was a non-issue. We loved each other."

"I loved my parents, too," Morgan said very slowly, choosing her words carefully and as if it were an effort. "But I'm still not sure why they adopted me. They didn't have time for me. It was almost as if I were an accessory they purchased to go with their image. I had nannies and tutors and instructors and a driver. And I had David. But my parents were uninvolved. Took trips without me. Tried to make up for it by showering me in money, expensive gifts, cars, clothes. I had my own credit card before I was fourteen."

"I'm sorry you had it so rough," Max said.

"Are you being sarcastic?"

"Surprisingly, no. I meant it. I feel sorry for you."

"I don't want your sympathy. I'm just trying to explain to you why it is that the word 'family' doesn't have the same connotations for me that it does for you."

"Maybe not. I would think someone who's never had a real family would need one even more. But I guess I'm wrong."

"The timing is bad," Morgan said. "I'm dying. There's really no point in us... starting anything now."

"Now is the only time we may have."

Closing her eyes, Morgan lowered her head.

"Maybe...I have some things I need to work through. And I need to work through them alone."

"Well, you better work fast, Morgan, because if you think I'm going to stay away, you're wrong. I'll leave. For now. But I'm not going far, and I will be back. And I'll keep coming back, no matter how many times you try to throw me out. Understand?"

Morgan's head came up slowly, a frown between her brows. "No."

"No? You've never had anyone stick by you like that before, have you?"

"Only David. And he only did because he felt sorry for me. I didn't have anyone else."

"Maybe he stuck by you because he honestly gives a d.a.m.n," Max said. "Kinda like me." She looked at her sister for a long moment; then, with a sigh, she turned and left the room.

Lydia watched her two companions drive away. The troubled Morgan was still sitting in her bedroom window, staring pensively out at the sea. David Sumner emerged from the house onto the patio in back, took a seat on a lawn chair and lit up a cigarette.

Squaring her shoulders, Lydia turned from her vantage point near the sh.o.r.e and began the long walk across the rear lawn toward where Sumner was sitting.

He looked up, spotted her coming, gave a welcoming wave as he got to his feet.

"You must be Lydia," he called.

She nodded, kept walking.

"I'm David."

"I know."

"Maxine and Lou have gone to a hotel in town." he said, a little less loudly now, as she drew closer. "I promised I would bring you along if you returned."

She nodded, kept walking.

"They thought you had gone into the village. I think they were hoping to run into you and... "

He let his voice trail off as she got still closer, until finally she stopped, a couple of feet between them. His eyes narrowed, brows drawing together.

"h.e.l.lo, David. It's been a long time."

"My G.o.d. Oh my G.o.d."

Chapter 20.

*Morgan lay on the table in a paper gown, with goose b.u.mps rising on her arms and legs. Why the h.e.l.l did doctors' offices have to be so cold? A tube ran into her arm from an IV bag on a pole. Clear fluid filled the bag. The doc had injected some kind of supercharged vitamin shot into the tube, as well. Not that any of that would help. She knew what she needed, and it was not in that IV.

Dr. Hilman came back inside, looking serious. David was sitting in a chair nearby. He'd stepped out during the exam but returned immediately after, and Morgan didn't have the heart to toss him out. She loved David, and she knew he loved her. She had a niggling feeling he was up to something though. She knew she shouldn't. She had never had any reason to mistrust David. He was the only person in her rife she did trust, in fact. Besides Dante. Yet she had seen David today, alone with the blond woman. Lydia, that was her name. They'd been alone together, talking, and the atmosphere between them, around them, had seemed charged with some sort of intense energy. Morgan didn't know why. She had heard the car leave after Maxine's emotional goodbye. She'd expected to come down and find David alone.

Instead she'd found him deep in conversation with Lydia, and they had both gone silent when they had seen her.

It still bothered Morgan. What could he have been talking about with the stranger?

David got to his feet at the doctor's reappearance. "Well?"

Dr. Hilman was over fifty but looked thirty-nine. Nice hair of nondescript brown, with a few gray strands but no sign of balding. He was in excellent shape. Must make most of his patients feel decidedly unworthy.

He drew a breath, sighed, smiled with his nice even teeth. "Frankly, Morgan, I'd like to get you admitted."

It took a second for her brain to translate. Then she blinked. "To the hospital?"

"Just so we can keep an eye on you. Your blood count is low, you're anemic, and you just don't look good."

"Can't you give me a blood transfusion and send me home?"

He exchanged glances with David. "If we could find a donor. You know you have a rare blood type."

"Yeah. I know." She lifted her head. "I have a sister, you know. A twin. But she doesn't have the Belladonna Antigen. How is that possible?"

He frowned at her. "Identical or fraternal?"

"I don't know. We look alike."

"Lots of fraternal twins look alike. You're sure she doesn't have the antigen?"

"She's healthy. Robust even."

He lowered his head, shook it slowly. "We don't understand Belladonna, Morgan. It doesn't behave the way other antigens do."

She nodded, having figured as much. "Look, Doctor, you're not going to be able to do anything for me in a hospital bed except make me sicker than I already am. I want to go home. I want to be in my house. I need to be mere."

Narrowing his eyes, he leaned over her, removed the IV tube from her arm and applied a bandage as he asked, "Why?"

"I love it there. If I'm going to die, that's where I want to be, and if I'm not, then I want to spend the time I have left there."

"Really, Morgan," David said. "If it's only one night-"

"It's my life. I want to go home." She got to her feet. "You can't force me to stay in a hospital. I'm an adult. I'm going." Reaching for the counter where her clothes were folded, she took them. "You two can get out of here or watch me get dressed."

"All right, all right" The doctor turned for the door even as Morgan was pulling on her jeans. He stepped out, David close behind him.

She managed to wait until the door fell closed before she gripped the counter and held on. Dizziness, weakness. d.a.m.n, she'd gotten up too fast.

It pa.s.sed slowly, fading until she could focus on the dull thrum of male voices outside the door. b.u.t.toning her jeans, she leaned closer to listen.

"... something to help her sleep?" David was asking.

"I'll give you something to take home."

"I'll give it to her before bed."

The h.e.l.l he would. She couldn't sleep. Not at night. Night was what she had been waiting and waiting for. She had to see Dante. She had to. She had to show him, to prove to him, that none of this was her, that she hadn't betrayed him. She edged closer to the door, leaned against it to listen.

"Tell me the truth, Doctor. How much time do you think she has?"

"You know I can't be sure of something like that."

"But you have an idea. I can see in your eyes that you have some idea. So what is it, Doctor? Come on. Months?" There was a pause. "Weeks?"

Still the doctor said nothing.

"My G.o.d, days?" David asked softly.

"Maybe. I'm sorry, David. I know how much you love her."

"There has to be something we can do."

"We could find a suitable blood donor," the doctor said. "That would give her a little more time."

"Then that's what we have to do."

"You realize... we'd only be buying time. In the end... "

"I realize it. I just don't accept it. I can't."

The pain in David's voice stabbed at Morgan's heart.

The doctor sighed. "I'll do everything I can to extend the time she has, David. I promise you."

Max tried to speak in the voice she always used as she continued narrating her most recent adventures into the telephone handset. "It was the d.a.m.nedest thing, Stormy. Like she wanted me there, but at the same time, she couldn't wait to get rid of me. I'll tell you right now, hon, you're much more sisterlike than she is." She paused. "Anyway, Lou and I went to the hotel that Sumner recommended. Turns out he had called ahead. Guess he has clout, too, because you oughtta see this freaking place. We have a suite with two bedrooms, a sitting room and a little kitchenette. And the view-man, you've never seen a view like this, Storm. Great big windows looking out over the ocean. Waves and foam and rocky sh.o.r.e. Boats and gulls. Wait, you can hear them." She cranked open the window of the suite and held the phone out toward the screeching seagulls. Sea air rushed in, that fresh salt.w.a.ter and fish tang, and an autumn nip.

"Did you hear them?" she asked, knowing there would be no answer. "You and I have to come back here when you're better. Stay in the same spot, you know? Of course, it's nothing in comparison to that house of my sister's, but it's nice. Hey, and when we come back, you can meet Morgan. You won't believe how much she looks like me. Only thinner and way prettier. Richer, too, but lonely. She's not happy. I don't know if she ever has been."

And she was sick, Max added silently. Sick, maybe dying. Just like Stormy. For a moment she felt a weight settle onto her shoulders, a crushing, heavy, pressing weight. It made it hard to breathe.

"Anyway," she said, her voice thicker now, speaking, an effort, "Lydia finally showed up here an hour after we did. Guess she went out walking and lost track of the time. She said David Sumner gave her a ride. He was going out anyway, taking Morgan to, uh, some sort of appointment."

She was being very careful not to say anything negative, anything frightening. Not only for Stormy's sake, but because she knew Storm's mom was probably hearing a lot of the conversation as she held the phone near her daughter's ear. She didn't want to upset the woman. And she certainly couldn't mention any part of the real reason why she was here in Maine.

"I love you, Storm. I want you to wake up. You know? So you can talk back, give me advice, tease me about Lou. It isn't fair, me doing all the talking. You'd d.a.m.n well better wake up by the time I get home. Okay? Just wake up. Wake up, Stormy... "

She had to stop there. The tears were spilling over, and her throat contracted too tightly. She tried to get hold of herself, gulped in a couple of breaths.

"Easy, Maxie. Easy." Big, callused hands on her shoulders, heavy but gentle.

She glanced behind her at Lou; she hadn't even heard him come in. So much for the d.a.m.n screeching gulls. He gave her a little boxer's ma.s.sage. He did that a lot. It was the most physical contact she ever managed to get out of him, and she took advantage of it, because it helped. She leaned back a little, his chest behind her, solid, warm. She could almost feel herself drawing a little of his solidness and warmth into her body to battle the weakness and the chill. How could she bear to lose her sister and her best friend all at once?

"Maxine?"