Worthy Opponents(36)

Paul sat down in her office with her one day, to pursue their earlier conversations.

“We still need investment money, Spencer. The work we’re doing now is costing a fortune and we’re missing two months of sales, with the store closed.”

“We can’t open with construction still going on, someone will get injured and we’ll wind up in a lawsuit.”

Paul had already contacted a firm to help set up their clothing online for purchase. They had shelved the idea of an annex for now. As far as Spencer was concerned, a move was out of the question, and far too expensive. The neighborhood was dicey, but they had lived with it for this long and would continue to do so. The threat of losing control of the business entirely and selling a majority investment to someone was everything she wanted to avoid. She thought of Mike Weston occasionally and wondered how he was doing. She was sure he was making fabulous investments that were far more profitable than his investment in her store would have been. She had no remorse about turning him down. It had been the right thing for her and for the store. Paul had reminded her several times that Mike Weston had been their only option, and she reminded him each time that it had been no option at all and was the wrong one for them. It had been plain to her.

She supervised every inch of the work and pitched in occasionally. The energy she demonstrated to all inspired others to do the same. Spencer had never shirked hard work or even manual labor. She was tireless. With everyone helping, they managed to open the store a week earlier than promised, and it looked better than ever.

Mike had settled in to his apartment and Jenny was due home from her internship in July and wanted to stay with him. Maureen wasn’t pleased about it, but she could hardly forbid Jenny, now twenty, to stay with her father. They had heard from Zack, and he was back in Paris. He wanted to take a short class at the Louvre, and was promising to be home by the first week in July, and he told his father that he was ready to go back to school and that as soon as he got home he’d apply for January. Mike wasn’t sure how serious he was, but Zack was in good spirits and enjoying the last of his nearly yearlong odyssey. His two friends were coming home too. One of them had renewed his acceptance at NYU and would be going to school there, and the other was going to work for his father for a year while he decided what to do next.

Mike was just about to leave the office at six o’clock, earlier than usual, when he got a call on his cell phone from one of Zack’s traveling partners. It was midnight in Paris, and Luke’s voice was shaking. All three boys had turned nineteen while they were traveling and none of them seemed more grown up to Mike than when they left. He could tell from the sound of Luke’s voice that something terrible had happened and was praying that he hadn’t called to tell him that Zack was dead.

“Is Zack okay? What happened?” Mike asked. He could feel his heart pounding in his chest.

“Yes, sort of. He had a biking accident. He got hit by a bus. He’s in the hospital.”

“A bus?” Mike’s heart pounded. “Is he conscious?” Mike asked as he sat back down at his desk with shaking legs, fearing a brain injury.

“Yes, he’s conscious,” Luke assured him.

“Was he wearing a helmet?”

“No one wears them here.” Mike felt sick as he listened, imagining Zack permanently impaired. “He broke a leg and both wrists, but his head is okay. We were in the bike lane, and the bus just nicked him and he fell. He’s going to be okay.”

“What hospital is he in?” Mike tried to gather his wits and didn’t know who to call.

“I don’t know, it has a weird name, like Pity Salty something. They said he could leave tomorrow, but he’s going to be in a wheelchair, he can’t use crutches because of his wrists.” It was a nasty end to their trip, but Zack was alive, and all Mike wanted to do now was get him home in one piece. He thanked God the bus hadn’t killed him and the damage wasn’t worse, if what Luke said was true.

“I’ll try to get a flight out tonight,” Mike told him. “Where are you staying?” Luke gave him the name of a small hotel on the Left Bank.

“Greg is with him now. It just happened a few hours ago. He’s all doped up and he’s sleeping. We’ll stay with him tonight. They said we could sleep in his room with him. We won’t leave him, Mr. Weston, I promise. I think Greg and I will come home too. We’ll call our parents. I’m really sorry. Everything’s been fine till now.” Mike had both boys’ cell phones, so he knew how to contact them.

“It’s not your fault, Luke. Thank you for calling me. I’ll get there as fast as I can.”

He called Maureen as soon as he hung up, and she was calmer than Mike had been. Luke’s quavering voice had terrified him.

“I’m going to try and catch a flight tonight. Do you want to come with me?”

“Are you going to bring him home?” she asked.

“As soon as I can.”

“Then why don’t I get everything organized, and you go over to get him. He should be seen by an orthopedist here as soon as possible, to be sure they set it all right.” It made sense to him too, and he hoped Zack was in a decent hospital, but at least he wasn’t in a coma, or dead.

He called the airline after that and got a seat on a midnight flight to Paris, with a return for both of them the night of the day he arrived. He didn’t want to waste time in Paris. He just wanted to get Zack home now. And then he called the Four Seasons where he always stayed and booked a room for the day, and got the number for the emergency line at the U.S. Embassy in Paris. A clipped military voice answered immediately. He explained the situation and asked if they knew of a hospital that sounded like “Pity Salty,” and if it was a decent hospital.