It felt good to leave our apartment, if only to the floor below. The elevator opened to an open area, a communal sitting room with sofas and chairs, reminding me of a lobby of a hotel.
“Do you use this area much?”
“No,” Lorna said. “Just another place to clean.”
“I’m sorry. I should do more upstairs. It isn’t fair to you.”
She waved her hand. “Don’t mind me. I’m upset about the lockdown too. Hopefully it will be resolved and your friend will be safe. I’m fine with what I do. I don’t have an amazing silk fashions design house to run.”
My mind went to Sinful Threads and then to Louisa, Jason, and baby Kennedy. “The last time I talked to Sterling, he said her husband was found and should be fine.” I looked down at my phone. “I can’t believe I haven’t heard another word from him.”
“Have you called or texted?”
“A million times right after he left. Now, I’m as mad as I am curious. I hope he, Patrick, or Reid will tell me what they can, when they can.”
She led me to the door on the right. “Come on in. Welcome to Reid’s and my home.”
It made me smile, thinking that we all lived together, yet Lorna was able to consider this space theirs. “Do you mind my being here? I don’t want to intrude.”
“No,” she said with a grin. “I like it. As you can imagine, this life doesn’t allow for many—okay, any—visitors. Having you here makes me feel like...” She shrugged. “...like I’m having a friend over for wine.”
“And cheese,” I said. “You mentioned cheese.”
As she opened the door, I stepped behind her and looked around at their home. “Oh goodness. I love it. It’s so different from upstairs and yet so spacious and you.”
“Me?”
Eclectic, a bit hipster chic, and at the same time homey.
I stood at the doorway, taking in the large living room that connected to the dining area of her kitchen. The wall to the right and the far wall were made of all glass, the same tall windows as upstairs. The living room was sleek with colorful paintings, many like the ones in Sterling’s office. The gray sofas and chairs were littered with accent pillows and throws in varying colors matching the paintings.
I took a step toward one of the paintings on the wall. The signature was from Jean-Michel Basquiat. “Sterling has one of these in his office.”
She nodded. “I liked his, so Reid surprised me with this one. I can’t believe we own something that is similar to what they hang in museums. He’s good at picking up on what I like and don’t like.”
“Like chess?”
Her smile broadened. “Hmm.”
“I guess it’s easier to think about that than being left alone for five days,” I said wistfully, hoping and praying it wouldn’t be five days. Five hours had been unbearable enough.
Lorna turned on lights, and hitting another button, she brought their fireplace roaring to life. “I know it’s summer, but when I’m upset a fire with wine makes me feel better.”
I watched the flames for a moment, trying to comprehend that it was now Sunday morning and only twenty-four hours ago, Sterling and I were on a yacht on Lake Michigan, and now, Lorna and I were in some strange reality where something called lockdowns not only existed but removed us from the real world.
I pulled myself away from the flames and trailed after her to the kitchen. “I like the fire. It’s a good idea.” When I turned from the dining area, I stopped and took in Lorna’s kitchen. While not as large as the one upstairs, it held all the same fancy appliances and hard-surface counters. One difference was the backsplash. It was colorful tile that brought sparks of red, yellow, and orange to the walls. When she hit another switch, LED lights made the tile glow, as if like the fireplace, they were made of real fire. Hanging from cords over the island were more lights. These were shaped like flames with bulbs within them that gently flickered.
“You like fire,” I said.
“I like warmth. I hate being cold.”
“Do you cook in here too?”
“Sometimes. It depends. One day I’ll only cook here and take the food upstairs. Another day, the opposite.” She shrugged. “Depends on my mood and it changes things up.” Turning, she opened a wine refrigerator built into the cabinet and asked me what I’d like.
“Moscato, white if you have it.”
Lorna grinned. “Like I said, I do the shopping. I keep us well stocked.”
I looked at the size of the wine refrigerator. “If this is going to last for five days, we may run short.”
“Oh, there’s plenty upstairs, too.”
After I helped Lorna slice some different cheeses and took the plate to the living room, I grabbed the bottle of moscato and a stemmed glass and went back to one of the sofas. As I sat down, I again took my phone from my pocket and laid it on the table.
On the screen I saw the icon indicating I’d missed a call.
STERLING on the screen.
“Oh my God. How did I miss it?”
“What?” Lorna asked, coming from the kitchen with her own bottle of wine and a glass.
My hands shook as I lifted the phone. It was after two in the morning now, and I wasn’t sure I could listen to a message. I didn’t know if I could handle the news. What if it was bad?
Sterling had promised me that he’d be with me when I learned good or bad. He’d made that promise about my family, but damn, Louisa qualified as family. For years, the Nelsons had been all I knew.
“What?” Lorna asked again.
I pointed at the phone on the table. “I-I missed a call from Sterling.”
“How? You’ve had your phone with you the whole time.” When I only looked wide-eyed at her and back to the phone, she went on, “Did he leave a message? Are you going to listen to it?”
I tried to swallow. “I’m so scared. I wish he were here.” I looked up at Lorna as she sat beside me. “Don’t get me wrong. I’m pissed as hell at him. I want to scream at him, call him every name I can conjure up, cuss like a sailor, and beat my fists against his fucking chest.”
Lorna nodded. “And then you want him to wrap you in his arms and tell you it’s all right. Your friend, her husband, and their baby are all safe and healthy. You want him to tell you that he, Patrick, and Reid are all home and safe. You want him to tell you that life will go on.”
Tears were again raining down my cheeks. “Yes. I want all of that.”
“Hey, while you’re making demands, don’t forget about your hand on the sensor. I have ten dollars riding on that.”
The throbbing in my temples resumed. “I need to listen to his message.”
I lifted the phone as if it were a snake capable of injecting venom, and I swiped the screen.
“How long ago did he call?” she asked.
“Just five minutes ago. I don’t understand how I missed it.” I checked the ringer. “It doesn’t make sense. The ringer is on and it should have vibrated.”
“It’s 2:22 here,” Lorna said, opening the wine bottles. “Boulder is only one hour behind, right?”
I nodded as my heart beat wildly like a drum vibrating in my chest, the pulsations reverberating to my hands and making them shaky. Taking aim, I touched the voicemail icon and lifted the phone to my ear.
Sterling’s deep voice came through the phone. “I hope you’re asleep. We’ll be on our way home in another hour. I know I promised to be with you when I gave you news.”
More tears formed at the sound of his voice.
“I know you’re upset with me, but our plan worked.”
Worked? What does that mean?
“I think that just this once, I can break my promise. I think you need to know sooner rather than later. And if you wake and see this message, I don’t want you to worry any longer. Louisa and Jason are safe. She’s on her way to the Lutheran Medical Center outside of Denver, by ambulance. Not because it’s an emergency. That hospital is where they have the top NICU department on-site. She’s not in labor. This is strictly for prevention. I’ll tell you more in the morning. Not only are they safe, but we’re also arranging around-the-clock individual surveillance until this thing is settled.”
What needs to be settled?
“I need to go. We have a few things to wrap up.
“Sunshine, you can hate me, but I needed to concentrate on Louisa and know you were safe. You can hate me, but it won’t stop me from loving you.”
The voicemail ended.
My cheeks were covered in tears and my nose was running. I was as far as one could be from the picture of regality Sterling had told me to be at the club what seemed like a million years ago. Laying my phone in my lap, I turned to Lorna. “She’s safe. They did it.”
She leaned forward and gave me another hug. “Praise be.”
I nodded. “I’m still mad at him.”
“I don’t blame you.”
“But I guess I understand.”
Lorna poured moscato in my glass and then something red in her own. After handing mine to me, she lifted hers and said, “To Louisa.”
Our glasses clinked before we each took a sip.
“Do you think it would still be all right for me to do all the things I said?”
“The yelling, hitting, cursing...? That stuff?” Lorna asked.
I nodded, taking another longer sip.
“I would, after you wrap your arms around him and tell him how grateful you are that Louisa and the baby are safe.”
I shrugged. “It seems like the wrong order.”