“Oh, Mom, I’m such an idiot.”

Hallie hadn’t been able to wait until that promised dinner at her parents’ home in order to unburden herself. Exhausted, with her shift and the extra hours finally over, she had collected her things from the break room locker, stumbled to where her trusty car waited in the hospital lot’s outer limits, and managed to find her way home.

But it wasn’t until she had kicked off her clogs and stripped out of her scrubs for a long, cool shower that her clenched muscles could finally begin to relax. Even then, it took a change into lightweight cotton pajamas and a plop down upon her sagging couch, staring at the rough walls surrounding, before she realized that it was time to talk.

She needed her mother’s sympathetic ear; she needed her mother’s perspective on what had happened, before she could make sense of things.

She needed…well, not closure, really, since, thanks to her accidental bumbling, the connection binding Hallie Jameson to Sheikh Karim Al Ahsan remained in place. But something. She needed something. Absolution, perhaps.

The hour was late. Normally, she wouldn’t try calling, when it was so close to midnight. But Joanne never slept soundly when her little grandson slumbered in his bedroom in her home. The slightest little creak, and she was up to check on him. So, Hallie had felt little hesitation in dialing the number.

“What do you mean, honey?” came the quiet question.

She sighed, took a sip of her decaf iced tea, and twirled a loosened strand of hair around one finger.

“Got a few minutes to listen to my whining?”

“Always, dear. Just let me get to the living room, so I don’t disturb your father.”

For the next half hour, Hallie related the story of everything that had taken place during the last few days, beginning with the fateful chance meeting at the coffeehouse. Haltingly. Reluctantly. Even with a few tears. (For who wants to admit to her own mother, supportive though she might be, that she, a mature adult woman could still fall for the twists and turns of a fairy-tale romance?)

Joanne listened, without comment or question, till the end, when the confessional was at last finished, and Hallie could sag back against the enfolding couch. Until she felt the almost palpable relief of collapsing, she hadn’t even realized that tension had held her so upright and uptight.

“And now it’s all fallen apart, around us,” she concluded, with a heavy sigh.

“Any story built on a lie often does,” her mother said. There was neither judgment nor censure in her tone; it was simply a statement of fact. “Somehow, the truth always comes out.”

“The worst of it is, poor Karim doesn’t even know what happened. He’s not aware that the whole deal has completely blown up, thanks to me.”

“Oh, you take too much credit for yourself, Hallie. It’s hardly your fault that this man—Chip?—came into your ER looking for help, and you were there working at the time. It’s just one of those terrible coincidences. But, sweetheart, it is your fault for saying yes to begin with, and getting involved.”

Hallie slumped. From babyhood on, her mother had always been able to see through her actions. She was suddenly feeling as guilty as the worst criminal who had ever lived.

“This is an awful mess,” she admitted, in a low voice.

Silence hummed across the line for just a bit. Then, there came the sound of water briefly rushing from a faucet, and the muted dings of their microwave being turned on. Joanne was brewing herself a cup of tea.

“So what’s the next step, honey?” Joanne asked. “Will you wait for this Mr. Griffin to break the bad news that he’s reneging on his contract?”

Another point taken. There was that: the shipbuilding magnate had given his word, and now he was going back on it. How honorable could that be, even in a dog-eat-dog business sense? Wasn’t that worse than Karim’s original false story of marriage and fatherhood? Hallie pondered.

“I’m not sure, Mom,” she answered slowly. “But you’ve certainly given me a new perspective—something to think about. Multiple wrongs have been done here; no party is innocent, when you come right down to it. Thanks. Thanks, a lot. You always get right to the heart of the matter.”

“It helps, talking things over, even it isn’t face to face. Hearing a different viewpoint can make you see things in a whole fresh light. Think you can sleep now?”

A rush of gratitude warmed Hallie’s voice.

“Soon. I have another call to make first. Thanks again, Mom. Are you the wisest woman in the world, or not?”

“If you think so,” Joanne chuckled. “Good night, sweetheart. Love you.”

Hallie said goodbye, then sat and thought. It was nearly one in the morning; a car’s headlights reflected off the opposite wall and then swooped away into nothingness as some vehicle drove slowly down the street. Only a dog’s bark could be heard, and the wail of a siren somewhere in the distance. Most residents in the area, needing to arise early to start another work day, were sleeping in their respective beds.

Not Hallie. She wasn’t due back at Cranston until mid-afternoon, so a few hours spent now with eyelids refusing to close wouldn’t really hurt her. She was young and foolish. She was also strong and tough. She could handle being short on sleep.

It was just that her schedule had been so topsy-turvy lately. Her poor body hardly remembered when it should be in bed and when it should be up, working or caring for Aaron.

Even if, physically, she was feeling okay, emotionally, she was a wreck. Too much going on, too much to deal with. She was comforted by the loving kindness of her mother and she was bereft by the absence of her son—two sides of the same coin. Add one more emotion to the mix: dereliction of duty when it came to the baby. In her need to provide a living for the two of them, had she abdicated too much responsibility in his care?

A vagrant breeze slipped through a screen of the front window, open despite cautionary tales about burglars and break-ins because of the heat. It carried with it the dust of Philadelphia streets and the faint scent of exhaust fumes.

Propping both bare feet upon the shabby coffee table, she reached for her cellphone yet again.

This time, he answered. On the first ring.

“Hello, Hallie.”

At the warmth of his tone, coming over the miles from who knew where, Hallie felt the rush of prickling to her nose that always preceded tears. How soon that warmth would change, and all due to what she must tell him!

“Hello, Karim. How are you?”

“I am well, thank you. And yourself? And Aaron?”

They might have been two strangers, barely connected by some invisible wire strung out through tree branches and summer air. Polite, yet distant. Hallie couldn’t restrain a small shiver.

“Oh, I’m…fine.” Certainly, that was debatable. “I tried calling you last night.”

Worry entered his tone. “Indeed. But I did not know. I had no message that—”

“I didn’t leave one.”

“Ah. I see. Was there some reason you didn’t?”

“I—I wasn’t sure I should. You—well, you didn’t answer anywhere, and I thought I might be intruding…”

Silence for a moment, a pregnant silence, seemingly filled with empty air and lost words.

“Hallie. I regret that we could not talk if you needed to talk. Should there be anything—”

“I didn’t need to talk,” she cut across his words. “I just—well, I thought—”

More silence. Tense, uncomfortable silence. Karim cleared his throat and tried again, in a quiet voice. “I apologize, Hallie. I was…unavailable. Had I known—”

Closing her eyes, she could almost see the brisk flick of his hand. Regret? Disappointment? Impatience? Sure, unavailable. With which young beauty of the day, now that she was safely out of the picture?

“At any rate,” he went on, after a few seconds’ pause, “we are talking now. And it is late. Was there something on your mind or—?”

“Oh, Karim.” She exhaled a heavy sigh. “Yes, there’s something. And I’m so sorry. It’s awful, and I don’t know what to do, but I needed to let you know, because—well, because…”

Silence, yet again. This conversation was becoming unbearable, and Hallie longed to get it over with, now. But she couldn’t. She was obliged to go on, no matter how painful or discomfiting. Her fingers tightened around the rim of her cellphone, as if that clenching might strengthen her spine, to do what must be done.

“Did you go to work at the hospital today, Hallie?” he suddenly asked.

“Yes. Yes, I did.” And, oh, dear God, if only I hadn’t! “Yes, you knew I was scheduled for this afternoon, didn’t you?”

“You did mention the fact. And you must be very tired, from all you have done. And yet, you are calling me.”

“Karim…” Agonized, she wrapped one arm around her middle, as if to contain all the misery churning within, and bent forward.

“This is not the best of situations, is it, Hallie? A telephone may be used to discuss business, but it is far more difficult for a—shall we say, an intimate conversation? It seems we need to sit down together, you and I.”

Wiping away a few tears that had overflowed, Hallie sniffed and nodded.

“Yes, I think you’re right. That would be better.” Very much problematic, in most ways, but better somehow to grab her courage with both hands and face the music.

“Very well. Would ten o’clock tomorrow morning be convenient for you?”

“I think so, if I knew where—”

“Café Mud, where we first met.” Again, she felt, though she of course couldn’t see, the smile that flitted across his face. “Can you do that?”

“Of course. Yes, that will be fine.”

“Good. Till ten, then.”

The phone clicked; the call ended. And Hallie was left sitting alone in the dark. This was going to be another long and wakeful night.