Once in a Lifetime Read Free Page A

year, and she had sat home and mourned, drinking Bob's pension. But something in Daphne's books had turned things around for her again, as though she understood, as though Daphne herself had known that kind of pain. And she made Elizabeth want to hang in, to keep going, to fight back. She had come back to the hospital again, and in her heart she knew it was because of Daphne. But how could she explain that to him? "She's a wise and wonderful lady. And if I can do anything for her now, I will."
    "She can use it." And then he sighed and picked up another chart, but as he did so he made a mental note to himself to tell his mother the next time he saw her that he had treated Daphne Fields. He knew that, just like Elizabeth Watkins, his mother would be impressed.
    "Dr. Jacobson?" The nurse's voice was soft as he prepared to leave.
    "Yeah?"
    "Will she make it?"
    He hesitated for a moment and then shrugged. "I don't know. It's too soon to tell. The internal injuries and the concussion are still giving us a run for our money. She got quite a blow on the head." And then he moved on. There were other patients who needed his attention. Not just Daphne Fields. He wondered, as he stood waiting for the elevator, just what made up the mystique of someone like her. Was it that she wove a good tale or was it something more? What made people like Nurse Watkins feel as though they really knew her? Was it all illusion, hype? Whatever it was, he hoped they didn't lose her. He didn't like losing any patient, but if an important, newsworthy one died, it was worse. He had enough headaches without that.
    As the elevator door closed behind him Elizabeth Watkins looked down at Daphne's papers again. It was strange, there was no indication of anyone to call in case of emergency. There was nothing in her handbag of any significance at all.... Just then, tucked into a pocket, she found a photograph of a little boy. It was dog-eared and frayed but it looked fairly recent. He was a beautiful little blond child with big blue eyes and a healthy golden tan. He was sitting under a tree, grinning broadly and making a funny sign with his hands. But that was it, other than the driver's license and charge cards, there was nothing else except for a twenty-dollar bill. Her address was on Sixty-ninth Street, between Park and Lexington, a building that the nurse knew would be handsome and well guarded by a doorman, but who was waiting for her at home? It was strange to realize that despite her fascination with this woman's books, she knew nothing about her at all. There wasn't even a phone number for them to call. As Elizabeth mulled it over an irregularity turned up on one of the monitors, and she and one of the other nurses had to check on the man in 514. He had had cardiac arrest the previous morning, and when they reached him, they didn't like the way he looked. They ended up having to spend over an hour with him. And it wasn't until her shift ended at seven in the morning that she stopped to look in on Daphne again. The other nurses had been checking her every fifteen minutes, but there had been no change in the past two hours since she'd come up to the fifth floor.
    "How is she?"
    "No change."
    "Are her vitals steady?"
    "No change since last night." Nurse Watkins glanced at the chart again and then found herself staring at Daphne's face. In spite of the bandages and the pallor there was something haunting about that face. Something that made you want her to open her eyes and look at you so that you could understand more. Elizabeth Watkins stood over her quietly, barely touching her hand, and then slowly Daphne's eyelids began to flutter, and the nurse could feel her heart begin to pound.
    Daphne's eyes opened slowly as in a distant haze she seemed to look around. But she still looked very sleepy and it was obvious that she didn't understand where she was.
    "Jeff?" It was the merest whisper.
    "Everything's all right, Mrs. Fields." Nurse Watkins assumed Daphne