“There were six of them.”
“And you pulled them out of the water?”
Joshua hesitated. “Well, we didn’t exactly pull them out of the water. They were kinda sittin’ on the side of their boat. But they probably would have starved to death if we hadn’t come along.”
Jennifer bit her lip to keep from smiling. “I see. They were very lucky you came along, weren’t they?”
“I’ll say.”
“Did you hurt yourself when you fell, darling?”
“Course not.” He felt the back of his head. “I got a little bump.”
“Let me feel it.”
“What for? You know what a bump feels like.”
Jennifer reached down and gently ran her hand along the back of Joshua’s head.
Her fingers found a large lump. “It’s as big as an egg, Joshua.”
“It’s nothing.”
Jennifer rose to her feet. “I think we’d better get started back to the hotel.”
“Can’t we stay a little while longer?”
“I’m afraid not. We have to pack. You don’t want to miss your ball game Saturday, do you?”
He sighed. “No. Old Terry Waters is just waitin’ to take my place.”
“No chance. He pitches like a girl.”
Joshua nodded smugly. “He does, doesn’t he?”
When they returned to Las Brisas, Jennifer telephoned the manager and asked him to send a doctor to the room. The doctor arrived thirty minutes later, a portly, middle-aged Mexican dressed in an old-fashioned white suit. Jennifer admitted him into the bungalow.
“How may I serve you?” Dr. Raul Mendoza asked.
“My son had a fall this morning. He has a nasty bump on his head. I want to make sure he’s all right.”
Jennifer led him into Joshua’s bedroom, where he was packing a suitcase.
“Joshua, this is Doctor Mendoza.”
Joshua looked up and asked, “Is somebody sick?”
“No. No one’s sick, my lad. I just wanted the doctor to take a look at your head.”
“Oh, for Pete’s sake, Mom! What’s the matter with my head?”
“Nothing. I would just feel better if Doctor Mendoza checked it over. Humor me, will you?”
“Women!” Joshua said. He looked at the doctor suspiciously. “You’re not going to stick any needles in me or anything, are you?”
“No, senor, I am a very painless doctor.”
“That’s the kind I like.”
“Please sit down.”
Joshua sat on the edge of the bed and Dr. Mendoza ran his fingers over the back of Joshua’s head. Joshua winced with pain but he did not cry out. The doctor opened his medical bag and took out an ophthalmoscope. “Open your eyes wide, please.”
Joshua obeyed. Dr. Mendoza stared through the instrument.
“You see any naked dancin’ girls in there?”
“Joshua!”
“I was just askin’.”
Dr. Mendoza examined Joshua’s other eye. “You are fit as a fiddle. That is the American slang expression, no?” He rose to his feet and closed his medical bag. “I would put some ice on that,” he told Jennifer. “Tomorrow the boy will be fine.”
It was as though a heavy load had been lifted from Jennifer’s heart. “Thank you,” she said.
“I will arrange the bill with the hotel cashier, senora. Good-bye, young man.”
“Good-bye, Doctor Mendoza.”
When the doctor had gone, Joshua turned to his mother. “You sure like to throw your money away, Mom.”
“I know. I like to waste it on things like food, your health—”
“I’m the healthiest man on the whole team.”
“Stay that way.”
He grinned. “I promise.”
They boarded the six o’clock plane to New York and were back in Sands Point late that night. Joshua slept all the way home.
48
The room was crowded with ghosts. Adam Warner was in his study, preparing a major television campaign speech, but it was impossible to concentrate. His mind was filled with Jennifer. He had been able to think of nothing else since he had returned from Acapulco. Seeing her had only confirmed what Adam had known from the beginning. He had made the wrong choice. He should never have given up Jennifer. Being with her again was a reminder of all that he had had, and thrown away, and he could not bear the thought of it.
He was in an impossible situation. A no-win situation, Blair Roman would have called it.
There was a knock on the door and Chuck Morrison, Adam’s chief assistant, came in carrying a cassette. “Can I talk to you a minute, Adam?”
“Can it wait, Chuck? I’m in the middle of—”
“I don’t think so.” There was excitement in Chuck Morrison’s voice.
“All right. What’s so urgent?”
Chuck Morrison moved closer to the desk. “I just got a telephone call. It could be some crazy, but if it’s not, then Christmas came early this year. Listen to this.”
He placed a cassette in the machine on Adam’s desk, pressed a switch and the tape began to play.
What did you say your name was?
It doesn’t matter. I won’t talk to anyone except Senator Warner.
The Senator is busy just now. Why don’t you drop him a note and I’ll see to—
No! Listen to me. This is very important. Tell Senator Warner I can deliver Michael Moretti to him. I’m taking my life in my hands making this phone call. Just give Senator Warner the message.
All right. Where are you?