Such Great Heights

by Sydney Logan

  “I’m sorry, Mr. Healey,” the nurse says kindly. “I’m not sure why you were contacted, but we don’t have an Olivia Stuart in the ER.”

  With shaky hands, I place my phone on the counter and make her listen to the voice mail. The confused nurse shakes her head and looks at her computer screen once again.

  “Could she possibly be listed under another name? You said Stuart, right?”

  “Yes. Olivia Stuart.”

  “Is that her maiden name? Perhaps she’s listed under Healey?”

  “No, she wouldn’t . . .” I close my eyes. What an idiot I am.

  Healey.

  “Natasha. Natasha Healey.”

  The nurse’s eyes narrow as she looks from me and back to the screen.

  Yes, ma’am. I’m a moron.

  “Is Natasha Healey your wife, sir?”

  “She is,” I reply lamely. “I’m sorry. We’re . . . in the process of divorcing. Today, actually. We’re supposed to be in court right now.”

  “I see. You were notified because you’re listed as her emergency contact. Is there someone else we should call?”

  Oh, I don’t know. Maybe her fiancé? But then my stomach drops as I consider the very real possibility that he’s the reason Natasha’s in the hospital in the first place. Then I think about the baby.

  “Is she okay?” I ask softly. “What about the baby?”

  The nurse’s face flashes with uncertainty, probably wondering if she’s breaking the law by confirming this information.

  I notice her name on her badge. I fish my own ID out of my pocket.

  “Nurse Raines, my name is Jackson Healey. Natasha and I have been separated for almost a year now. She is engaged and pregnant with her fiancé’s child. However, as you said, I am still her emergency contact. I’m also an attorney. I assure you it’s perfectly legal to give me this information.”

  She sighs tiredly. “Mrs. Healey has been admitted.”

  “May I see her?”

  “Room 332. Just take the elevator.”

  “Thank you.”

  Finding the room is easy enough. Before I step inside, I take a long, steadying breath, mentally preparing myself for what I might find behind the door. I sigh with relief when I see her sitting up in bed, staring blankly at the TV on the wall.

  “Tash?”

  Her eyes find mine.

  “Jackson? What are you . . .”

  I walk slowly over to the bed. She looks okay. Tired, but okay. Her face isn’t bruised, at least.

  “Apparently, I’m still your emergency contact number.”

  “Oh.” She bows her head. “Well, that’s embarrassing.”

  “It’s okay,” I tell her as I sit down in a nearby chair. “What’s wrong?”

  “I woke up with horrible stomach cramps. I was scared, so I called a cab.”

  “A cab? Where’s David?”

  “Out of town. Like always.”

  She stares straight ahead, her eyes vacant and so far away. She looks so lost, but I can see our son’s face in the shape of her nose and the point of her chin, and it makes my heart ache.

  “Natasha, is the baby okay?”

  She looks at me, and now, I can see the tears in her eyes.

  “I lost the baby.”

  Out of pure instinct, I reach for her hand and give it a comforting squeeze.

  “I’m so sorry, Tash.”

  “The doctor says these things happen sometimes,” she says, sniffling softly. “Stress, most likely. David and I . . . we fight a lot. Babies can sense these things, you know. Maybe he—or she—just decided they didn’t want me for a mother. Or David for a father. Or, maybe, God just decided I didn’t deserve another baby. I did such a terrible job with my first. I didn’t really deserve a second chance. Besides, David’s gone all the time. He really didn’t want this baby.” Her voice falls, lifeless and somber. “I really don’t think he loves me.”

  I close my eyes in quiet resignation.

  “I don’t think so, either, Tash.”

  She smiles sadly. “Thank you.”

  “For what?”

  “For being honest. For being here.”

  “You’re welcome.”

  Sighing softly, Natasha focuses on our hands, still linked.

  “I missed our court date this morning.”

  “It’s okay. We’ll work it out.”

  She nods and stares off into space once again.

  “I’ve been thinking, Jackson. I think I need a fresh start. A true fresh start. Away from Nashville. Away from . . . all my failures.”

  “Where would you go?”

  “Did I tell you that Dad retired?”

  I shake my head.

  “He and Mom live in Florida now. Doesn’t that sound nice? Florida.”

  I smile softly. “That does sound nice. Especially with winter coming soon.”

  She nods. “So, I think that’s where I’ll go. Florida. What do you think?”

  “I think you need to get away from David Nichols. And I think your parents would love to see you.”

  She nods.

  “You’ll need help, though. I’ll make all the arrangements. I’ll even hire movers. Just give me your parents’ address and I’ll have everything shipped down there. I really don’t want you going back to David’s house.”

  Natasha squeezes my hand. “You’re sweet, but you don’t have to help me.”

  “I want to.”

  “Why?”

  As I gaze at my wife, I try to remember the last time we made each other happy. With the exception of the birth of our son and maybe our wedding day, I can’t recall a single moment when we were truly happy together. We were young, and we thought we were in love. At least, I thought I was.

  I know better now.

  But, despite all the heartache we inflicted on each other, I will be forever thankful to Natasha, because without her, I wouldn’t have my son.

  “I want to help you because you gave me the most beautiful boy in the whole world. I can’t imagine my life without him in it. I will always—always—be grateful for that.”

  “Will he hate me?” she asks, a lone tear trickling down her cheek. “Ryder, I mean. Will he hate me forever?”

  I’m not sure what to say, because I can’t promise he won’t. She left him, and she’s leaving him again. That’s the choice she’s making. Ryder can’t comprehend that now, but as he gets older, he’ll understand that his mom made the decision to leave . . . to relinquish her rights as his mother. I can’t promise he won’t hate her. But I can offer her this.

  “I don’t know what the future holds, Natasha, but I can promise you this. I will always speak fondly of you to our son. And he will be protected and loved.”

  Natasha smiles through her tears.

  “You’re a good man, Jackson. I’m sorry I didn’t appreciate you.”

  “And I’m sorry I didn’t appreciate you. But we’re giving each other the chance to start over. Let me help you, Tash.”

  “What about the divorce?” she asks. “We still need to sign the papers.”

  “I’ll call Marcus and have him contact your attorney. We don’t need a judge for that.”

  “And you’ll help me? You’ll help me get to Florida?”

  “I will.”

  She squeezes my hand and nods slowly.

  “Okay.”

  Dr. Jane suggested we tell Ryder about his mom as soon as possible. The sooner he knows, the sooner he can start to heal. She also recommended that Olivia be part of the conversation. Knowing she was there, and that she was going to remain a constant in Ryder's life, may help soften the blow of his mother moving hundreds of miles away.

  It’s taken six hours and three Disney movies to give me the courage. Now, with the three of us snuggled in his bed, I’m still trying to find the words.

  “Mommy’s gone?” Ryder asks softly.

  I pull him into my lap and wrap my arms around him.

  “She’s going to live with Grandma and G
randpa at their new house in Florida.”

  “Where’s F’orida?”

  “This is Florida,” Olivia says, showing him a map on her phone.

  “And where’s us?”

  Olivia points to Tennessee.

  “That’s far,” he says. “Will she come back?”

  Olivia and I glance at each other. Closing my eyes, I take a deep breath and tell my son the truth.

  “No, Ryder. She’s not coming back.”

  His face falls as he gazes at the map on her phone. I look helplessly at Olivia. Her eyes fill with tears as she gently ruffles his hair.

  “Everything’s going to be okay, buddy,” she says. “We’re going to take such good care of you.”

  “Olivia’s right. Everything’s going to be just fine. Olivia, Hazel, and I love you very much, and we aren’t going anywhere.”

  Ryder’s forehead creases slightly before he lifts his sweet eyes toward Olivia.

  “You’ll be my mommy now.”

  I felt my heart constrict in my chest. It wasn’t a question. It was a fact . . . as if it was the most natural conclusion in the world.

  Olivia’s tear-filled eyes find mine, and I smile.

  “If you want me to be,” she says, her voice breaking with emotion.

  With a bright smile that could melt any cold heart, Ryder scampers out of my lap and into Olivia’s open arms. Watching the two of them together never fails to make me happy, but tonight is special. I know he’s young and he’ll have many hard questions in the years to come, but for tonight, my son is content, loved, and wrapped in the arms of the only real mother he’s ever known.

  I can’t believe how lucky I am.

  “What if they don’t like me?”

  Ryder’s nervous whisper shakes slightly as we snuggle under the blanket. Jackson’s working late again tonight so that he can enjoy our mini-vacation that starts tomorrow. We’re heading to my parents’ house for the weekend. I finally get to introduce my mom and dad to the two loves of my life. Both of my boys are nervous, but at least Jackson has work to distract him. Ryder just has . . . me.

  Me and Charlotte’s Web.

  He’d insisted on three chapters before finally climbing under the blanket. He’s anxious tonight, his heart and mind full of questions. I hold his little hand in mine and try my best to ease his fears.

  “They will love you, Ryder. You’re my favorite boy in the whole world.”

  “Do they know that?”

  “They do. I tell them all the time.”

  He grows quiet. I can tell he’s not convinced.

  “My mom can’t wait to paint with you. And my dad wants to take you fishing. There’s a pond right by the house. He even bought you your very own fishing rod.”

  “Can I bait the hook?”

  I grin. Such a boy.

  “Absolutely. Feel better?”

  “I guess so. I just want them to like me.”

  “I promise they will love you. Do you know why?”

  “Why?”

  “Because I love you. Now, close your eyes.”

  Seemingly content, Ryder snuggles close while I hum a lullaby in his ear.

  We have a long drive tomorrow, and the last thing we need is a grouchy kid in the back seat as we head to my hometown of Chestnut Grove. When I was young, I couldn’t wait to get out of our small town, but lately, I’ve found myself longing for home. I talk to my parents all the time, but I haven’t been back since I graduated from college seven months ago.

  As I watch Ryder finally sleep, I can’t help but smile when I think about how much has changed since then. What started out as the worst summer ever turned into the most amazing autumn. We celebrated Halloween by trick-or-treating with our very own Buzz Lightyear, and we just spent Thanksgiving with Jackson’s family at their house in Brentwood. Now, we’re headed to Chestnut Grove for our second Thanksgiving dinner with my family.

  Needless to say, the last two months have been a whirlwind. And December is coming soon. I can’t even imagine how amazing Christmas is going to be.

  Besides celebrating the holidays, Jackson and I have continued to grow close, thanks to our many, many date nights. I’m constantly surprised by the little things I’ve learned about him—seriously, who’s favorite color is black?—but with every new piece of information, I find myself falling deeper and deeper in love with him.

  We’ve also been talking about the future and what that holds. Jackson even suggested selling the penthouse. We need a home, he says. Our home, without Natasha’s ghost haunting the halls. I can’t deny how happy that would make me—to have something that’s truly ours. He contacted a realtor, and within days, she found a few houses just outside the city—all within our price range and with the little extras we wanted. Of course they’re all beautiful, but there’s one house, with its wraparound porch and big backyard, that really stole my heart. Ryder and Hazel loved it, too, and it will go on the market in just a few weeks.

  Things are moving fast. My parents, who’ve yet to meet this amazing man of mine, will probably say things are moving too fast.

  But I don’t care. I’m happy.

  As amazing as the past few months have been, I can’t deny how much I’m looking forward to December. Not just because of Christmas, but because in two weeks, Jackson will be single.

  And all mine.

  Finally.

  “You’re here!”

  My excited mother greets me at the door and pulls me into her arms.

  “Finally,” I mutter. “We thought we’d miss most of the traffic by leaving early, but nope. Bumper to bumper until we hit the interstate.”

  “At least the weather’s nice. Can you believe it? Sixty degrees in November.” Mom smiles brightly and looks over my shoulder. “Now, where are they?”

  “Getting the suitcases. Listen, Mom, take it easy on them. They’re both a little nervous.”

  “Oh, we’ll be good,” she says, smiling brightly as she scrutinizes my face. “You look great! Different, but great.”

  “Bad different?”

  “No. Just different.”

  She looks over my shoulder and gasps. I turn to find Jackson and Ryder walking up the sidewalk.

  “Wow,” Mom murmurs. “I mean, I saw his picture online, but . . . wow.”

  I grin. “I know.”

  “And Ryder is adorable! Oh, Olivia, you’re going to make such beautiful babies with that man!”

  Mom all but shoves me aside when Ryder and Jackson make their way up the porch steps. My cheeks flame when I see the smug expression on Jackson’s face. Naturally, he’d heard every word. Mom’s rarely quiet when she’s excited, and right now, she’s practically bouncing.

  “You must be Mrs. Stuart,” Jackson says, offering her his hand.

  I laugh, knowing that a hand shake just wasn’t going to cut it . . . not with my mom.

  “Welcome to the family!” Mom exclaims, pulling him in for a hug. And just like that, the tension in Jackson’s face disappears. His eyes dance with joy as my mother hugs him tight.

  “And this must be Ryder,” she says.

  I lift him into my arms, and he nuzzles into my hair as he stares at the very strange and very loud woman who raised me.

  “Ryder, this is my mom. Can you say hi?”

  “Hi,” he says quietly, clinging to me. I whisper soothingly, and he wraps his arms around my neck. Mom watches our tender exchange, and her face softens.

  “It’s very nice to meet you, Ryder. I know someone who can’t wait to take you fishing.” Mom tousles his hair and smiles at me. “Your dad’s in the living room. Come on.”

  Jackson places his hand on the small of my back as the three of us follow her into the living room. We find my father in his recliner, his eyes glued to the football game on TV.

  “Hi, Dad.”

  His eyes flash from the screen to the little family standing in his living room. Without a word, he rises from his seat and takes a long look at the man by my side and the boy in m
y arms. Finally, he clears his throat and smiles gently at me.

  “Hi, sweetheart. It’s good to have you home.”

  Ryder hugs me harder, and suddenly, Dad’s face flickers with an emotion I can’t quite place.

  “Dad, this is Jackson and Ryder.”

  Jackson steps forward and offers his hand. “It’s very nice to meet you, Mr. Stuart.”

  “Nice to meet you, too. Call me Tom.”

  Then, Dad smiles at the boy in my arms.

  “Hello, Ryder.”

  “Hi.”

  “I hear you’re gonna be my fishing buddy this weekend.”

  Ryder nods shyly.

  “Can you really catch anything in November?” I ask.

  “Fish are always bitin’ in our pond. You know that.”

  “That’s good, because I know a little boy who’s dying to bait the hook.”

  “That used to be your favorite thing about fishing, too.” Dad smiles softly at me before turning his attention back to Ryder. “Want to see your new fishing rod?”

  His sweet eyes find mine, and I give him an encouraging smile before lowering him to the floor. Grinning up at my dad, Ryder offers him his hand, and my father beams as he leads him out to the back porch.

  “Oh, he’s beautiful, Jackson.”

  “I know. Thank you.”

  “Sit, sit,” Mom says, pulling us over to the couch. The interrogation starts immediately. She wants to hear all about the city, Jackson’s firm, his family, Hazel, the penthouse, and the realtor. Questions are flying so fast that I’m not prepared when the subject changes to our wedding.

  “What are you thinking? A big event in the city? Or a sweet little country wedding right here in Chestnut Grove? Oh, a summer wedding by the pond would be just beautiful!”

  Jackson chuckles. I shoot him a glare.

  “Mom, we’re not even engaged yet.”

  Her eyes narrow in confusion. “What do you mean you’re not engaged?”

  “We’re not engaged.”

  “And why not?”

  “Because she won’t say yes,” Jackson mumbles.

  I elbow him. This just makes him laugh even harder.

  “Wait,” Mom says slowly. “Are you saying that you proposed to my daughter, and she said no?”

  “I didn’t say no . . . exactly.”