34


When Justin Kramer came upstairs to Kate’s apartment, Hannah had immediately liked what she was seeing. He looked to be in his early thirties. Trim, about five feet ten, with hazel eyes, a firm jaw, and a head of curly dark brown hair, he reminded her of a boy she’d had a crush on when she was sixteen.

His concern for Kate was genuine. He explained, “I got in over my head when I bought this condo. Then when I lost my job in the Wall Street fallout two years ago, I knew it would be wise to sell it. My father drilled into us that you trim your sails when there’s a financial pinch and you don’t dip into savings. The investment firm I’m with now is even better than the one I was with before. But I’ll never forget how concerned your sister was about me. That was why when I read about the accident, I thought of the plant I had given her and that if she still had it, it would need care. I know that with everything that has happened, it’s a very small gesture, but I wanted to do something.”

“That’s just like Kate to be concerned about the other guy,” Hannah said simply. “She’s that kind of person.”

“I understand that she’s badly injured, but, for whatever it’s worth, I have a strong feeling that she’ll make it through. I obviously have seen the hints in the media that Kate might be implicated in the explosion. As little as I know her, I absolutely cannot believe that Kate could ever be involved with something like this.”

“Thank you for that,” Hannah said, “and thank you for believing that she’ll make it through all this. Right now, being in her home and wondering if she’ll ever see it again, I needed to hear that.”

They left the apartment together, Justin carrying the plant. When they were outside the building, standing on the sidewalk, and before she could say good-bye, Justin said, “Hannah, it’s one thirty. If you haven’t had lunch yet, would you like to grab a bite with me?”

Hesitating for only a couple of seconds, Hannah said, “I’d like that.”

“Italian food okay?”

“My favorite.”

They walked three blocks to a small restaurant called Tony’s Kitchen. It was obvious that Justin was well-known there. He seemed to sense that she did not want to talk about Kate or the explosion and so, instead, he told her about himself. “I was raised in Princeton,” he said. “Both my parents teach at Princeton.”

“Then you’ve got to be very smart,” Hannah smiled.

“I don’t know about that. I went to Princeton, but for my master’s I was ready for a new setting so I went to business school in Chicago.”

They both had a salad. Hannah had an appetizer-size penne with vodka sauce. Justin decided on lasagna and ordered a half bottle of Simi chardonnay. Hannah realized it was the first time since the dinner she had with Jessie, celebrating her new designer label, that she could taste food. Justin asked her about her job, another safe subject. When they left the restaurant, he asked if he could call a cab for her.

“No. I’ll walk across the park to the hospital and check on Kate. I don’t think she knows that I’m there, but I just need to be with her.”

“Of course, but first please give me your cell phone number. I’d like to keep in touch and find out how Kate is doing.” He smiled, then added, “And report on the progress of her plant.”


When Hannah reached the hospital and went up to the intensive care unit, her father was sitting at Kate’s bedside. He looked up when he heard her footsteps. “She’s the same,” he said. “No change at all. She hasn’t said anything else.” He looked around, careful to see that neither a doctor nor nurse was within earshot. “Hannah, I’ve been thinking. The other day when Kate said to me that she was sorry about the explosion, I took it to mean she had set it.”

Hannah looked at him in astonishment. “You implied that Kate said she had set it.”

“I realize that. I wasn’t thinking straight. I meant that she said she was sorry about it, not sorry that she actually caused it.”

“I have never believed that Kate set that explosion,” Hannah whispered vehemently, “and you could have saved me a lot of heartache if you hadn’t implied the other day that she virtually admitted it. And anyhow the doctor said that anything she mumbled was probably meaningless.”

“I know. It’s just that what has happened in these last few days has brought back everything of the time I lost your mother and…” Douglas Connelly buried his face in his hands as tears began to form in his eyes.

Composing himself, he slowly got to his feet. “Sandra is in the waiting room,” he explained. “I know you didn’t want her to come in here.”

“I don’t.”

Hannah stayed for an hour and then went home. She later watched the evening news while she ate a peanut butter sandwich, all that she wanted for dinner. She started to watch the next episode of a television series that she enjoyed but fell asleep on the couch. Waking up at midnight, she stripped off her clothes, put on pajamas, washed her face, brushed her teeth, and fell into bed.

The alarm woke her at seven on Monday morning. At eight she visited Kate for a half hour, then she spent a long day at work trying to concentrate on new designs for sportswear. It’s one thing for your name to be put on a fashion line. It’s another thing to keep it on, she reminded herself.

After work she visited Kate again, holding her hand, smoothing her forehead, speaking to her in the hope that somehow she would understand. She was about to leave when Dr. Patel came in. The deep concern in his voice was obvious when he said, “I’m afraid she’s developed a fever.”

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