Happy Birthday: A Novel

Chapter 8

Thanks to the pill they’d given her at the hospital, Valerie didn’t wake up the next morning until eleven. April had called the restaurant and told them that she wouldn’t be in until later, and she was sitting quietly in the kitchen, drinking a cup of tea and reading the paper, when her mother wandered in, in her nightgown, still looking pale and shaken. Pat and Maddie had already called early that morning to see how she was, and April promised to have her mother call them when she woke up.

“How do you feel, Mom?” April asked her, still looking worried. But however she felt, she had survived it. That was all that mattered.

“Like I lived through a nightmare,” she said as she sat down at the kitchen table and glanced at the paper. There were photographs on the front page of when the women had been freed and came running out of the building. There were other shots of when the male hostages had been brought out, looking panicked, with the SWAT team all around them. Valerie looked at a photograph of Jack Adams, and remembered his shielding her from the sniper to get her out of the lobby. There were details about his injuries, and the paper said he was still in critical condition, but stable for now.

“It was a nightmare,” April confirmed, still shaken by it herself. “It was the longest day of my life, waiting to find out if you were alive.”

“I’m sorry. How awful for you. Where were you?”

“At the restaurant. I spent the whole day glued to the TV in the kitchen. Mike Steinman was with me. He called to warn me before the story broke. He heard it at the paper where he works. He came over, and stayed with me until we knew you were safe. He dropped me off here last night.”

“Well, that’s an interesting development,” her mother said with a raised eyebrow. “I didn’t think you’d heard from him in a while.”

“I hadn’t. But he called to tell me about you. And then he showed up after that. I guess, despite all his craziness and neurosis about not having kids, and hating my restaurant, he’s a nice guy. He was very decent yesterday. It’s nice to know he’s a human being, even if I never hear from him again.”

“I’m sure you will,” her mother said with a sigh. Every inch of her body was aching. The stress of the day before, and the trauma, had taken an enormous toll. She felt a thousand years old. “Do you know what happened to Jack Adams?” Her mother looked worried when she asked.

“I haven’t listened to the news. I didn’t want to wake you. By the way, Dad and Maddie called you. I said you’d call when you got up.” Bob Lattimer, the head of the network, called shortly after that. He wanted to make sure Valerie was all right. He told her they were going to try and get back to normal programming the next day, if she was up to it. They were devoting most of that day’s broadcasts to special reports on the news. It gave them a chance to clean up the two floors the hostages had taken over, and the lobby.

After talking to him, Valerie walked into the living room and turned on the TV. There was news on every channel, special reports, and as she flipped through the channels, she saw the footage of Jack Adams being taken away by ambulance, and then a live feed of him sitting up in bed, looking weak but smiling. He insisted that he hadn’t been a hero but just did what he could, which he said wasn’t much. He said the leg was doing fine, although there was a nasty rumor going around that he might not be quarterbacking anymore that season. He insisted the rumor wasn’t true, and the interviewer laughed. Once they went back to a shot from the studio, the anchor said again that Jack had been a hero helping to get the women out of the building. They quipped for a minute that it wasn’t surprising that Jack Adams would be the one to escort the women out, since it was no secret how much he liked women and what a womanizer he had been during his NFL career, and perhaps still was. Everyone in the studio laughed, and Valerie was pleased to know that he had survived. He really had been a hero with her, trying to protect her from the sniper in the lobby. She wanted to send him flowers or champagne, or something to thank him, and wondered what hospital he was in. She called the network a few minutes later, and they told her he was at New York — Presbyterian Hospital.

She said something about it to April, who had a better idea. “Why don’t you send him some decent food? He’s been to the restaurant quite a few times, I can find out what he likes. If I remember correctly, I think he loves our meat loaf. We can send him some chicken too, and mashed potatoes. They can heat it up in the microwave for him.” It sounded like a great idea to both of them, and April called the restaurant to arrange it.

After that, Valerie called Marilyn’s family to express her sympathy. They were devastated. It made the horrors of the day before even more real to her, and her own survival seem even more miraculous, to both of them. Marilyn’s mother tearfully said that she had gone to her apartment to pick up the little Yorkshire puppy Valerie had given her on the Christmas show, and she was going to keep her. Marilyn’s tragic death was going to make the segment agonizingly poignant.

Valerie spent the rest of the day at home, in a bathrobe, relaxing and resting, before going back to work the next day. There was no reason for her not to, since she hadn’t been injured, but she was still looking very shaken and sad about Marilyn when April left her to go back to the restaurant. She promised to bring her mother some food too. And a waiter had already taken a cab to New York — Presbyterian Hospital with the food for Jack, and a message from her mother. The two women hugged before April left the apartment. She hated to leave her mother for even a minute but needed to check on things at the restaurant.

She called Mike from the cab. He sounded busy when he answered.

“Bad time?” she asked cautiously.

“No. I’m just on deadline, and the newsroom is nuts today. You can imagine it after yesterday.”

“I just wanted to thank you again for being with me.” Her voice was gentle, and he smiled.

“I’m glad I could be. How’s your mom today?”

“She’s pretty shaken up, but so am I, and I wasn’t even there. Her assistant was among the casualties, and she’s very upset about that too.”

“Are you feeling okay?” He didn’t inquire directly about the baby, but she knew what he meant.

“I’m fine.” He was sorry for what they’d all gone through. It had even been emotional for him, and he didn’t know her mother. It was shocking to hear that eleven people had died.

April had an idea then, but she didn’t know how he’d feel about it. “My family comes to the restaurant for dinner on Christmas Eve. You’re welcome to join us, if you’d like to. I don’t know if that’s something you’d like to do, or not.” She didn’t want to push him, but she felt closer to him now, and brave enough to ask, after the time they’d shared the day before, waiting for news of her mother.

“I told you, I don’t do holidays. They were such a nightmare in my family when I was a kid, with my parents drunk and beating each other up, I’d rather pretend they don’t exist. But thanks anyway.”

“I understand,” she said quietly. She couldn’t even imagine growing up in a family like his. It was not surprising he didn’t want kids. Being one in his world had been bad enough.

“I’ll call you after the holidays,” he promised, “or before that, if I need comfort food,” he said, and laughed. He had begun to understand her restaurant and why it was so popular. It wasn’t Alain Ducasse or Taillevent, which she might have been capable of replicating, but in some ways it was something even better, and he could see the merit of it now. What she offered met a real need for her patrons. It was real food for real life, as she put it, and the best of its kind.

“Just call if you need pancakes,” she reminded him. “In emergencies, we deliver.” She told him they had just sent food to Jack Adams from her mother. “Apparently he helped her on the way out. That’s when he got shot.”

“I gather he got hit pretty badly,” Mike commented. It seemed incredible to both of them that Valerie had escaped without getting injured. She had been severely traumatized certainly, and the news reports said the hostages had been warned that they might suffer from post-traumatic stress for a long time, but at least physically, she was fine. “I’m glad your mom is okay,” Mike reiterated, and then said he had to go back to work, before he missed his deadline. He said he’d call her sometime soon, and she had no idea if he would. At least it felt as though they were friends now. That was something at least, given the situation. It was hard to believe they had ever been lovers, even for a night.

It felt good to get back to the restaurant, and be involved in her familiar world again. The day before had had such a nightmarish quality to it that it was hard to believe it had really happened. Everyone asked about her mother, and April confirmed that the food had been sent to Jack Adams at the hospital. The waiter who had taken it to him said he had been thrilled, and still looked pretty rocky. He had been getting a transfusion, but told the waiter that April’s meat loaf and mashed potatoes were worth ten of them, and laughed. He had been surrounded by doctors and nurses, and a news team had been there, but they had let her waiter in anyway. And she knew her mother would be glad.

“We can send him some more tomorrow,” April told her kitchen staff, and then got back to work, organizing her kitchen. They were low on produce, and she had to go to the fish market in the morning. And she had Yule logs to make in a few days for Christmas, and plum pudding. It was going to be a busy week for her. She forgot all about Mike, the baby, and even the hostage crisis of the day before as she raced around the kitchen, checking everything at full speed. She was in good spirits and happy to be back. She called her mother late that afternoon to check on her, and she didn’t answer. April wasn’t worried, she assumed her mother was sleeping. It was good for her, and then she got busy cooking dinner for the restaurant. April in New York was in full swing.

*

Valerie was feeling shaky when she dressed in jeans, a sweater, and a big down coat and left the house that same afternoon in a cab. She had planned to stay home and take it easy, but the more she thought about it, the more she realized that she wanted to thank Jack Adams personally for what he’d done. She wasn’t exactly sure when he’d been shot, but she remembered him shielding her from the sniper to get her to the front door and out of the building. She still looked pale when she got out of the cab at New York — Presbyterian Hospital, and she had worn very little makeup, which was rare for her, but she looked pretty anyway.

Alan Starr, the psychic, had called her that afternoon, and apologized for not seeing the terrorist attack in her cards. He said that sometimes that happened, but like everyone else, he was grateful she had survived.

Jack was in a suite on the private VIP floor of the hospital, and just to be on the safe side, there were police guards outside his room. There had been no threats against him, but the police chief wanted to do everything he could for him, and had come himself to visit that morning. Jack had signed autographs for the chief’s kids and grandchildren, and thanked him for saving his life the night before when his artery was hit.

He was resting and there was no one in his room when Valerie knocked. One of the cops at the door had recognized her immediately. He said his wife was addicted to her show and had all her books, but he didn’t dare ask her for an autograph. He knew she had been a hostage the day before. She still looked pretty shaken.

“Hi,” she said cautiously, as she peeked around the door. Jack was watching TV and looked half asleep. They had given him a shot for pain not long before, but he was awake enough to recognize her. He smiled as soon as he saw her face. “Can I come in, or is this a bad time?”

“No, it’s a fine time. Thanks for the food,” he said, struggling to sit up a little, and she told him not to, to just stay where he was. She promised not to stay long. “I didn’t realize April was your daughter. It’s my favorite place to eat,” he said, and meant it.

“Mine too. How do you feel?”

“Not so bad. I hurt my back two months ago, and that was worse. I just feel a little woozy from the drugs. The leg isn’t so bad.” And the painkillers were strong. “How about you?”

“I’m fine. Just a little shaky. It was a terrifying day. I came to thank you for helping to get me out. That was a brave thing for you to do and I’m sorry you got shot.” She said it admiringly, and he smiled. He had been hearing it all day, and all the nurses on the floor had been fighting to take care of him. He was in good hands.

“That’s okay. I’ll be fine,” he said, trying to sound light-hearted. He changed the subject then. “The day I saw you in the elevator, I didn’t know it was your birthday till I saw it on the news. I was feeling pretty sorry for myself that day. It was my birthday too, and I was a mess with my herniated disk.”

“Your back looked pretty bad. I felt really sorry for you. How is it now?”

“It’s fine. I’m going to be on crutches for a while for the leg. Shit, ever since my birthday, I’ve been falling apart.” He laughed again. “I hit fifty, and it’s been downhill ever since.” He had heard how old she was on the news, so he knew she was older, but she didn’t look it. He thought she looked great, and not nearly her age, and old enough to have a daughter as grown-up as April. Even after the events of the day before, and with very little makeup on, he thought Valerie looked terrific.

“Don’t talk to me about birthdays. I’ve always kept mine quiet, and they had it all over radio and TV this year. I nearly had a heart attack when I heard it.” And then she sighed. “Somehow after yesterday, it doesn’t seem important. We’re lucky to be alive.” They were both sobered by the reality that so many others hadn’t survived it. “Today I don’t even care how old I am.” And she meant it.

“Yeah, me too, and I figure if I can survive a sniper, I should be okay from now on. The night of my birthday, I figured I was all washed up.”

“So did I.” She smiled. “I don’t want to wear you out,” she said politely, and he looked tired. There were dark circles under his eyes, two IVs going into his arms, and a machine next to him to self-administer pain medication. He was no longer on the critical list, but he was by no means recovered yet, and he had nearly died the night before. “I just wanted to thank you in person.”

“I really appreciate that, Valerie,” he said, saying her name for the first time. And as she stood up, she realized how long his legs were in the bed. He was a tall, powerfully built man. “Thanks again for the food. Why don’t we have dinner at April’s sometime? They’re sending me home in time for Christmas, in a few days.”

“I’d offer to cook for you,” she said, as she approached the bed, and he smiled at her, “but I set a great table, and I’m a rotten cook. April is the chef in the family, I’m not.”

“I’m a pretty good cook, if I can stand up when I get out of here. I think April’s is our best bet. I’ll call you in a few days. Thanks for coming by.”

“Thanks for saving me,” she said, with a serious expression and tears in her eyes. “I thought we were going to die.” He reached out and took her hand and held it in his own with an equally serious expression.

“I wasn’t going to let that happen to you, or the others, if I could help it, once I had you in my sights in the lobby. You’re all right now,” he reassured her, and she nodded and brushed the tears off her cheeks. She was still very emotional after the day before, and the death of her assistant. And Jack was upset about Norman, the young assistant producer of his show, who had been one of the eleven who died. It had all hit very close to home. To them, the casualties weren’t just names, they were people they had cared about and known.

“I’m sorry. I’m still kind of shaken up after yesterday,” Valerie said with a trembling voice.

“Yeah, me too,” he said, and smiled at her again. There was something about him that was very reassuring. “Take care of yourself,” he said, sounding genuine and concerned.

“I will. You too. Would you like more food tomorrow?” It was all she could offer, although there were flower arrangements everywhere. Dozens of others had been sent to other wards and rooms.

“I’d love it. I’m addicted to April’s apple pie, if she has any. Waffles, fried chicken.” His appetite was healthy, and he was smiling at her. “Thanks for coming, Valerie. Take it easy. Don’t go back to work too soon.”

“Are you kidding?” She laughed. “I’m taping again tomorrow. I have another Christmas episode to do, for my evening show.”

“I’m off till the Super Bowl now. Dead or alive, they want me on air for it in Miami.” It was always the high point of his year as a sportscaster, just as it had been when he played football.

“You rest too,” she said, and walked to the door with a smile. She was grateful to him, and felt as though they had a special bond. She owed him her life. And she felt now as though she had a new friend. He was an easygoing guy, and she felt comfortable with him. He wasn’t seductive or romantic, not with her. He was just friendly and warm, and nice to talk to. “Take care, Jack,” she said with a wave as she left the room, and he lay thinking about her after she left. She seemed like a nice woman, and different than he had expected her to be. From all he had heard about her and seen on TV, he had expected her to be prissy and uptight and she wasn’t. She was funny and witty, and unpretentious, in spite of her fame. And she was prettier and much more down to earth than he would have expected.

Valerie had always heard that he was a Lothario and womanizer, and he hadn’t come off like that either. He just seemed like a big, cuddly teddy bear, with a great sense of humor, and more guts than anyone she could ever imagine. And as Valerie went back uptown to her apartment, and he went back to sleep, they both thought about how nice it was to have a new friend, however unexpected. The events of the day before had formed a bond between them like no other. They had both survived something unimaginable.

Valerie called April from the cab and told her what to send him the next day. April was surprised that she was out, but Valerie told her that she had wanted to thank Jack Adams in person, which April thought was nice of her. It didn’t surprise her, her mother was always very thoughtful. After they hung up, Valerie wondered if he would actually invite her to dinner at April’s. He probably had lots of other things to do, and women backed up for miles, waiting for his attention, but she liked him, and she hoped he’d call her. It would be fun to have dinner with him. And even if he didn’t call, she was grateful to him anyway. She owed him and the SWAT team her life, as did so many others. Every second seemed precious now, and the world had never looked better to her, as she got out of the cab, after giving the driver a big tip. She smiled at the doorman, and went back to her apartment, which looked doubly beautiful to her now. She appreciated everything, and saw life through new eyes. Having survived the day before had given her a new lease on life. She felt about fifteen years old, no matter what her driver’s license said. The numbers seemed completely irrelevant now. She was alive!