Summer on Blossom Street (Blossom Street #6)(75)

His appreciation was almost palpable. “I can’t thank you enough, Phoebe. This will mean the world to Mom.”

Phoebe rather doubted that.

With her purse and car keys in hand, she’d reached the door, then came to an abrupt halt. It seemed to her that with all the connections the Snowdens had, Marlene and Clark shouldn’t be alone. Why would he contact her when he had friends and relatives all over the city?

None of what he’d said really made sense. She hated to be so distrustful, but time had taught her some valuable lessons about Clark Snowden. He’d stop at nothing to get his own way. Now that he knew about Hutch, he’d be more intent than ever on winning her back. Then again, it wasn’t as if he’d kidnap her. Despite her doubts, even Clark wouldn’t go so far as to make up a story about his father’s imminent death.

But just in case…

Phoebe decided not to take any chances. Turning back, she went to the phone and hit Speed Dial to call her mother. Three rings later, Leanne answered sleepily. “Phoebe? Is everything all right?”

“Clark’s father apparently isn’t doing well.”

“Oh, no.” Her mother was instantly alert.

“Clark said he’s contracted an infection. According to him, Max is fighting for his life. They aren’t sure he’ll last the night.”

“What can we do?” her mother asked urgently. “Should I put his name on the church prayer chain?”

“That would be wonderful, Mom,” Phoebe said.

“I’ll do it f irst thing in the morning.”

“Thank you.” Phoebe felt guilty about using her mother like this, but she knew how eager Leanne was to ingratiate herself with the Snowdens. “Listen, Mom, Clark’s holding vigil with his mother at the hospital. I gather they’re alone. Why don’t you go there with me? Marlene could use a friend at a time like this.”

“Oh, Phoebe. I’m so glad you asked. We can’t leave Marlene and Clark by themselves.”

“Thanks, Mom.” If Max was dying, Phoebe doubted she had the words to comfort Clark’s mother; the relationship between them was already strained. Leanne would be a real help.

“I’ll leave the house in f ifteen minutes,” Leanne said. “I’ll just throw on some clothes and run a brush through my hair.”

“I’ll pick you up,” Phoebe told her.

“You don’t need to do that,” her mother protested. Oh, but she did. “I wouldn’t want you driving in Seattle on your own this late, Mom.”

“Oh,” Leanne said as if she hadn’t thought of that. “Good idea. I’ll be ready when you get here.”

Phoebe waited a few minutes, then got her car from the condo parking garage and drove to her mother’s home on Capitol Hill. During that brief time, Clark called not once, but twice.

“How did you get this number?” she demanded. She could only assume that her mother had given it to him, in one of her misguided attempts to inf luence Phoebe’s decision. He didn’t answer. “I’d only use it in an emergency, which this is.”

He was right about that, but his access to her cell number bothered her.

“I thought you were on your way,” he complained. “You’re still coming, aren’t you?”

“I’ll be there in a few minutes,” she promised. “Has Max’s condition changed?”

“No, nothing’s changed. Hurry, please.”

Pulling into the familiar neighborhood of her youth, Phoebe saw that her mother’s porch light was on. As she stopped in the driveway, Leanne hurried out the front door and slid into the passenger side, fastening her seat belt.

“Poor Marlene, she must be beside herself.” Leanne clasped her hands tightly together. “Have you heard anything new?”

“Not really.” Clark’s frantic call asking her to rush would only upset her mother, so Phoebe didn’t mention it. Besides, he’d said Max’s condition hadn’t changed.

By the time they’d parked and reached the hospital’s main entrance, Phoebe saw Clark pacing just inside. He seemed agitated and nervous, which was understandable. This had to be a tense night for him and his mother.

His face brightened the moment he saw her. But a frown formed as soon as he realized Leanne had accompanied her. The glass doors slid open and Leanne ran toward Clark, hugging him hard. “Clark, this is such terrible news.”

“Leanne,” he said, hugging her back. Over her mother’s shoulders, his eyes searched out Phoebe.

“Where’s Marlene?” Leanne asked. “She must be frantic.”

Clark dropped his arms and led the way into the hospital foyer.

“She…she left.”

Phoebe stared at him. “You don’t know if your father’s going to survive the night and your mother went home? ”

“Yes, well…Dad seems to be doing better.”

“Since when?” Phoebe asked, her suspicions building.

“A while ago,” Clark said, meeting her gaze head-on.

“That’s terrif ic,” Leanne murmured, glancing from one to the other.

“Was Max ever desperately ill?” Phoebe asked, refusing to break eye contact with Clark. She wanted him to know he hadn’t fooled her. When he’d f irst phoned, she’d hated being so mistrustful of his intentions; now it seemed she’d been right. Clark was willing to use anything to win her back, even an out-andout lie. She shouldn’t be surprised and yet she was. At the same time she was sickened that he’d sink to this level—that he’d exploit his father’s condition in this way.