The Seeds Of A Daisy: The Lily Lockwood Series: Book One (Women's Fiction) Read Online Free PDF Page B

certain knack with babies; maybe I inherited that from dear old dad. When babies and children see my mother, they’ll crawl, they’ll walk. Shit, they’ll friggin’ knock each other over, roller-derby style, just to get to her. She’s that much of a kid magnet.
    Once I asked my mother what had happened, why my father had left, and why we never see him. An expression of deep sadness came over her face. “Honey, I’m sure your father does love you, but he’s not mature or responsible enough to have a family.” I never asked again.
    There have been moments when I’ve be on a set somewhere shooting a movie, and I’ve thought, “I wonder if my father will ever see this film, and if he does, will he even
know
that the actress on screen is his own flesh and blood?” When I was a teenager, I would imagine that one day my father and I would meet unexpectedly and there would be an emotional reunion of such dramatic proportions, that all we could do was fall into each other’s arms and weep uncontrollably.
    Over time, my father became unreal, an urban legend of sorts, like alligators in New York City sewers—a being that might exist, but is never seen. Our friends were our extended family. And Mom and I were the tight nucleus in our close-knit group.
    A young female doctor walks into the conference room holding charts and files. She looks frazzled and embarrassed. She clutches her files to her chest as if she thinks someone is going to yank them out of her hands. Her frizzy hair looks as if it hasn’t been combed in days. She has a soft voice and a thick accent—maybe Italian, it’s hard to tell. I have to strain to understand her.
    “Miss Lockwood, I’m Dr. Grippi. Dr. Niptau had an emergency and he’ll be up in about thirty minutes. Since University is a teaching hospital, he will introduce you to your whole team. I’m the intern for the team; you’ll see me here for the next twenty four hours or so.” She clears her throat, turns red and looks down. “Also, after you speak to Dr. Niptau, Roy Martinez, the hospital’s Public Affairs Director, would like to see you about making a statement to the press.”
    “A statement…what kind? What are you talking about?”
    “Well, it seems, Miss Lockwood, that there have been reporters here since around 5 a.m. They’re trying to question everyone about your mother’s condition.” She clears her throat again. “And we….. well, I guess Mr. Martinez will speak to you about it.” She walks briskly out of the conference room.
    I need to call Franny so she can deal with this Martinez guy. I pick up my cell and realize it isn’t even 6 a.m. in LA. I put the phone back on the table, feeling like a prisoner. I close my eyes. Waves of nausea suddenly and violently hit me, and I run into the nearby ladies’ room. I throw up for the third time since my arrival, five hours earlier. I feel shaky and dizzy as I head back to my “jail cell.” A nurse stops me just as I’m walking into the conference room. She is middle-aged, tall, and looks like a real no-nonsense type.
    “My name’s Gilda. I took over for Tina, so I’ll be your mother’s day nurse.”
    “Hi Gilda,” I say softly. (I hope my breath isn’t offensive.)
    “I just want to inform you that in the I.C.U. there is one nurse for every two patients, so—” She stops suddenly. “Are you okay, dear? You look a bit pale.”
    “Gilda, I’m not feeling so good. Actually, I’ve been puking for hours—I guess it’s nerves.”
    She puts a protective arm around my shoulder and walks me back into the conference room. “Sit down; I’ll bring you a glass of water. Have you eaten anything lately?”
    “No, I couldn’t eat on the plane and I’ve eaten nothing here at the hospital.”
    “Not good. Sit tight and I’ll be right back.”
    I cross my arms on the table and put my head down, kindergarten style. The room eventually stops spinning. Gilda walks back in holding a glass of water, a pack of crackers,