Danielle Steel - Honor Thyself

Chapter 20

The flight to L.A. was blissfully uneventful. The young neurosurgeon took her vital signs several times, but Carole had no problem whatsoever. She ate two meals, watched a movie, and then turned her seat into a bed, cuddled up under the blanket and comforter, and slept the rest of the way. Stevie woke her up before they landed, so she could do her makeup and brush her teeth and hair. There was a strong possibility that there would be press to meet the plane. The airline had offered her a wheelchair, but she had declined it. She wanted to walk off under her own steam. She much preferred the story of a miraculous recovery to the vision of her return as an invalid, which she wasn't. Despite the long flight, she felt stronger than she had in weeks. Part of it was the excitement of the fresh hope she was sharing with Matthieu, but much of it was simply her own sense of gratitude and peace. She had not only survived the tunnel bombing, but refused to be defeated.

She looked out her window in silence, seeing the buildings, the swimming pools, the familiar sights and landmarks of L.A. She saw the Hollywood sign, smiled, and glanced at Stevie. There was a time when she thought she would never see those things again. There were tears in her eyes. So much had happened in the last two months. It was dizzying to think about as the landing gear touched the runway and the plane taxied to a stop.

“Welcome home,” Stevie said with a broad grin, as Carole looked at her and nearly burst into tears of relief. The young doctor was ecstatic to be in L.A. His sister was picking him up and he was spending a week with her before going back to Paris.

Carole and her two companions were among the first to disembark. A VIP person from Air France was waiting for them to whisk them through customs. Carole had nothing to declare, except the bracelet from Matthieu. And she finally accepted a wheelchair to get her through the long hike to immigration. The walk was too long for her. Customs had already been warned that she was coming through. She had her declaration ready, they told her the amount she owed, and she wrote a check within minutes. And once she handed them the check, an officer checked their passports and waved them through.

“Welcome back, Miss Barber.” The customs officer smiled at her as she stepped out of the wheelchair then, in case there were photographers waiting for her when she came through the doors. She was glad she did, because there was a wall of them there, shouting and calling her name as their flashes went off in her face. There was literally a cheer as they spotted her and she waved, walked steadily past them, and looking radiant and strong.

“How do you feel?… Is your head okay?… What happened?… How does it feel to be back?” They shouted questions at her.

“Great! Just great!” She beamed as Stevie took her arm and helped her push her way through them. They waylaid her for a full fifteen minutes, taking photographs of her.

She looked tired when they got into the limousine waiting for them outside. And Stevie had hired a nurse to stay with her at the house. She didn't need medical care, but it seemed wiser for her not to be alone right at first. Carole had suggested letting her go as soon as the kids arrived, or at least when Matthieu came out. It was just comforting to have someone there at night, and Stevie was going home to her own man, life, and bed. She'd been gone for a long time and was happy to be back too. Particularly given Alan's proposal while she was gone. She wanted to celebrate that with him now.

Matthieu was the first to call Carole, literally as they came through the door. He had been worried about her all day and night. It was ten o'clock at night in Paris when she got home, and one o'clock in L.A.

“Was it all right?” he asked, sounding worried. “How do you feel?”

“Absolutely fine. There was no problem at all, even on takeoff and landing.” Her doctor had been somewhat concerned that the changes in pressurization might do damage or give her a severe headache, but they hadn't. “All the doctor did was eat and watch movies.”

“Good. I'm glad he was there anyway,” Matthieu said, relieved.

“So was I,” she admitted. She had been somewhat worried too.

“I already miss you,” he complained, but he sounded in good spirits, and so was she. They were going to see each other in no time at all, and their life together, whatever form it took, would start again. She had a lot to look forward to.

“Me too.”

“What are you going to do first?” He was excited for her. He knew how much it must mean to her to be back, after all she'd been through.

“I don't know. Just walk around and look, and thank God I'm here.” He was thankful too. He remembered how shocked he'd been when he saw her first, on the respirator at La Pitié Salpêtrière. She looked dead. And nearly was. Her recovery was like being born again. And now they had each other too. It was like a dream for both of them.

“My house looks beautiful,” she said, glancing around, still on the phone with him. “I'd forgotten how nice it is.”

“I can't wait to see it.”

They hung up after a few more minutes, and Stevie settled her in. The nurse arrived ten minutes later, and was a pleasant woman who was excited to meet Carole. Like everyone else who had read about it, she'd been horrified by her accident in France, and said it was miraculous she was alive.

Carole wandered into her bedroom then and looked around. She remembered it perfectly now, and had for a while. She looked out at the garden, and then walked into her office, and sat down at her desk. Stevie had already set her computer up for her. And the nurse went to make lunch. Stevie had asked the cleaning person to order groceries for them. As usual, she had thought of everything, down to the last detail. There was nothing Stevie didn't do.

Stevie sat down and had lunch with her in the kitchen, as they so often did. Carole was halfway through a turkey sandwich when she started to cry.

“What's wrong?” Stevie asked gently, but she knew. It was an emotional day for Carole, and even for her.

“I can't believe I'm here. I never thought I'd come back again.” She could finally admit to the terrible fear she'd experienced. She didn't have to be brave anymore. And even once she'd survived the bomb, the last terrorist had come to kill her. It was more than any one human being should have had to live through.

“You're okay,” Stevie reminded her, and gave her a hug, and then handed her a tissue to blow her nose.

“I'm sorry. I don't think I realized how rattled I was. And even Matthieu … that was so emotional for me.”

“You're entitled,” Stevie reminded her. “You can stand here and scream if you want. You've earned it.”

The nurse cleared away their lunch dishes, and Carole and Stevie sat at the kitchen table for a while. And then Stevie made her a cup of vanilla tea and handed it to her.

“You should go home,” Carole reminded her. “Alan must be anxious to see you.”

“He's picking me up in half an hour. I'll call and let you know what happens.” Stevie looked nervous and excited.

“Just enjoy him. You can tell me tomorrow.” Carole felt guilty for how much of her time and life she had taken. Stevie had always given her way beyond the call of what was normal, or could be considered “duty.” She gave herself body and soul to her employer and her job, beyond what any human being would.

Stevie left half an hour later, when Alan honked twice outside, and as she raced out the door, Carole wished her luck. The nurse helped her unpack, and then she went to sit in her office and stared out the window. The computer was waiting for her, but she was too tired to touch it. By then it was three o'clock, which was midnight in Paris. She was wiped out.