Found at Sea - By Anne Marie Duquette Page 0,86
arm around his daughter’s shoulders again. “I hope so. Someone needs to help me look out for these Collins women.”
Donna tossed Jordan her cell phone. “Hang on to this for me. If there’s any change, call Neil’s number and leave us a voice mail. He’s programmed into my speed dial.”
“I am?” Neil asked.
“Just for convenience’s sake.” Donna sniffed, but her smile took the sting from her words.
The two paired off as they headed for the food court. Bone-weary, Jordan entered the elevators—and made his way to Aurora.
CHAPTER NINETEEN
Dorian’s room, Mission Bay Hospital
Two days later, noon
FOR THE FIRST TIME since her dive, Aurora awoke with full consciousness. The first thing that registered was the total absence of pain—well, almost total absence. Her ankle in its cast was throbbing, but not unbearably. Her head—or was it her ears?—throbbed, too, but less than her leg. The steel cocoon of the decompression chamber no longer surrounded her. Instead, she rested on the starched, white crispness of a hospital bed, covered by a warm blanket. Brilliant sunshine streamed through the third-floor hospital window.
I’m alive. Aurora’s chapped lips curved in a smile, and she sighed her contentment.
Immediately the patient in the other bed turned toward her and rose on one elbow. “Rory? You awake?”
“Dorian.” Aurora’s voice came out hoarse but strong, though it sounded muffled. She realized she had cotton wadding in her ears.
“In the flesh. They transferred you here yesterday from the military hospital—do you remember?”
Not really, but that’s okay. Aurora’s smile grew. Rory and Dori together again. Then her smile faded. “What about Tanya and Gerald? Where’s Jordan?”
Dorian actually sat up, grabbed her IV pole on wheels and walked across the short distance to sit on Aurora’s bed, her hand grasping Aurora’s.
“Everyone’s alive and well. Including you now,” Dorian said. Tears flooded her eyes. “You’ve missed all the excitement, Sissy.”
Aurora choked. Dorian hadn’t called her Sissy since before she’d run away from home. “Like what?”
She smiled as Dorian patted her hand. “Well, for starters, Mom and Dad are here.”
“Mom and Dad?” They haven’t bothered with me since—well, since Dorian stopped calling me Sissy.
“Yep. They flew in from Arizona yesterday. Isn’t it just like you to finally wake up five minutes after they left?”
My parents and I never did travel the same roads, Aurora thought, still smiling. “So the gang’s all here?”
“They’ll be back after they eat, Mom said. Hard to believe, huh, Rory?”
Aurora began to nod in agreement, but frowned at the pain.
“Don’t do that! You’re supposed to keep your head still. Maybe I should call the nurse.”
“No, not yet,” Aurora said, carefully settling her head back onto the pillows.
“I— The doctors are still treating you, Rory.” A strange expression flittered over her sister’s face. “Let me call them.”
“Later,” Aurora insisted, holding tight to her sister’s hand. “Tell me about Tanya...and Gerald...and everything. And talk loudly.”
“Okay.” Dorian continued to clutch Aurora’s hand.
“Are you okay?” Aurora asked at the anxious look on her sister’s face. “What did the doctors say?”
“I had that new strain of Asian flu. It’s taken a lot of people down.”
“Thankfully, you weren’t one of them.” Aurora studied her sister. “You look good, Dori. A little too thin, but good.” Much better than you looked in Tijuana.
“I needed to lose a few pounds anyway.”
“You’ll be able to wear Tanya’s jeans at this rate,” Aurora joked. “I’m jealous.”
Dorian’s face grew serious again. “No, I’m the one who’s jealous. I’ve always been jealous of you, right from the very start.”
“All these years?”
“I’m not proud of it.”
“But, Dori, why?”
“Because I hated you for always getting the attention. For leaving me behind when you went on your grand adventure. For providing what I thought was a bad example for Tanya. I’ll be happy if she grows up to be half the woman you are!”
Aurora listened in shock as her sister continued.
“I blamed you for Tanya’s behavior. I did nothing to repair the breach between us, yet you did all this—all this for us.... My husband and daughter are safe now. Even our business survived.” Dorian covered her face with her hands. “I owe you so very much. Can you ever forgive me?”
“You owe me nothing.” Despite her aching head, Aurora sat up to tenderly place her arms around Dorian’s shoulders. “I’m the one who should be apologizing. When I left home, I left you holding the bag. Donna told me how much Mom and Dad overcompensated with you.”
“That has nothing to do with it,” Dorian insisted. She dropped her hands. “You won’t be so quick to