Breaking the paralysis her terror engendered took every ounce of mental strength Cassi possessed. But she forced herself to turn toward the door.
She gave a muffled cry of fright as she found herself staring at a shadowed figure in white. Her hand shot out and flipped on her bedside reading lamp.
“My God! You startled me!” said George Sherman, pressing a hand to his chest in a theatrical demonstration of distress. “Cassi, you’ve just taken ten years off my life.”
Cassi saw a huge bouquet of dark red roses in a vase on her night table.
Attached to the side was a white envelope with “Cassi” written on it.
“I’m sorry. I guess we scared each other,” said Cassi. “I had trouble falling asleep. I heard you come in.”
“Well, I wish you’d said something. I expected you’d be asleep and didn’t want to wake you.”
“Are the beautiful roses for me?”
“Yes, I thought I’d be through much earlier, but I got tied up at a meeting until a few minutes ago. I’d ordered these flowers this afternoon and wanted to be sure you got them.”
Cassi smiled. “That was so kind of you.”
“I heard you were to be operated on in the morning. I hope everything goes well.” He suddenly seemed to realize she was sitting up in her nightgown. He reddened, whispered a fast goodnight, and beat a hasty retreat.
Cassi smiled in spite of herself. The vision of him knocking her wine into her lap came back to her. She detached the envelope from the roses and slipped out the card. “All the best from a secret admirer.” Cassi laughed.
George could be so corny. At the same time she could understand his reluctance to sign his name after the scene Thomas had pulled at Ballantine’s.
Two hours later Cassi was still wide awake. In desperation she threw back the covers and slid out of the bed. Her robe was draped over the chair, and she pulled it on, thinking maybe she’d see if Robert was awake. Talking to him might finally calm her down enough to sleep.
If Cassi had felt out of place walking the hospital dressed as a patient that afternoon, now she felt positively delinquent. The corridors were deserted, and within the stairwell there wasn’t a sound. Cassi hurried up to Robert’s room hoping no one in authority would spot her and send her back to seventeen.
She ducked inside the darkened room. The only light came from the bathroom whose door was slightly open. Cassi could not see Robert but she could hear his regular breathing. Silently moving over next to the bed, she got a glimpse of his face; he was still fast asleep.
She was about to leave when she again noticed the computer printout on the night stand. As quietly as possible she picked it up. Then she moved her hand blindly over the surface of the table to search for the pencil she’d seen that afternoon. Her fingers found a water glass, then a wristwatch, and finally a pen.
Retreating to the bathroom, Cassi tore a blank sheet from the printout.
Pressing against the edge of the sink she wrote: “Couldn’t fall asleep. Borrowed the SSD material. Statistics always knock me out. Love, Cassi.”
When she came out of the lighted bathroom, Cassi found it even harder to see as she made her way back to the night stand. Feeling her way, she propped her note on the water glass and was about to leave when the door slowly swung open.
Suppressing a cry of fright, Cassi nearly collided with a figure coming into the room. “My God, what are you doing here?” she whispered. Some of the computer papers slipped from her hands.
Thomas, still holding the door, motioned for Cassi to be quiet. Light from the corridor fell on Robert’s face, but he did not stir. Convinced he was not going to wake up, Thomas bent to help Cassi gather her papers.
As they stood up, Cassi whispered again, “What on earth are you doing here?”
In answer, Thomas silently guided her out into the hall, pulling the door shut behind them. “Why aren’t you asleep?” he said crossly. “You’ve got surgery in the morning! I stopped by your room to make sure everything was in order only to find an empty bed. It wasn’t hard to guess where you might be.”