“I made sure there was no blade in his razor,” Aaron said.
“If I remember rightly, Marcus,” Claudia added, “you had a few nicks to show for your first time.”
Marcus puffed his chest proudly. “Those were my badges of honor.”
As he chuckled, Aaron felt his chest tighten again. These memories were so precious, bringing pleasure and pain at the same time. It felt right to share them with those he loved, yet he hated that Andy couldn’t take part as well.
He looked up to find Marcus blinking rapidly, as though fighting his own tears.
The moment might have turned completely maudlin had Claudia not spoken then. “Speaking of memories, I brought something…”
When she popped open the container’s lid, the mouth-watering aroma of chocolate-chip cookies filled the room. “Andy’s favorite. I wanted to get them here while they’re still warm from the oven. Scents can trigger memories.”
“Can we have some?” Marcus asked.
“Of course. I didn’t bring them just to sit and get stale.”
They each took a cookie and set the container on Andy’s bedside table.
Marcus quickly finished his cookie and helped himself to another. “I’m eating my share and yours, bro. You want one of these chocolate chippers, you best wake up and get your butt out of that bed. Doofus.”
“Don’t call your brother doofus,” Claudia scolded.
But they all understood the name-calling was just a big brother’s way of showing love.
A nurse stepped into the doorway of the room and caught Aaron’s eye, gesturing him into the hall to speak.
“Sorry to bother you, Mr. Sinclair, but there are two people here demanding to see your son. They say they’re your parents. We haven’t been authorized to allow them in and they’re causing quite a disturbance—”
For an instant Aaron went blank with shock. His parents? When that reality sank in, he began to boil with rage. “No. Under no circumstances do I want them near my son.”
“Then should I call Security and have them removed?”
“Yes.” Right out on their behinds. Then he thought better of it—what a field day the papers would have with that. Not that he cared, but Claudia and Marcus didn’t need to deal with it. “No. Wait a minute. Where are they?”
“Out at the Nurses’ Station.”
“Let me talk to them.” Grimly, he followed the young nurse into the corridor.
There they were—Bill and Elaine, his parents, in front of the large desk at the Nurses’ Station. Though he hadn’t seen them in a long time, the years hadn’t changed them much. If anything, they appeared to be getting younger—or at least giving it their best shot. They could credit their golden-brown tans and lean, fit bodies to days spent golfing and boating in the Florida sunshine. Their faces were remarkably unlined in spite of being in their seventies, thanks to periodic “touch-ups” from their friendly neighborhood plastic surgeon. All paid for on Aaron’s dime.
That didn’t bother him. He could afford it and it was little enough to keep them out of his life and that of his sons. The arrangement suited them just fine as well. In all these years, they’d never reached out to him to apologize or offer a word of regret for how they’d behaved. If they had, would he have forgiven them? He wasn’t sure.
But they’d never even tried.
And now they were here—for what? Aaron had no illusions that they’d come out of love or concern for their grandson.
His mother saw him first. “Aaron!” She rushed to him, threw her tennis-toned arms around him. “Oh, son, we came as soon as we heard. These stupid women here won’t let us see our own grandchild. How’s little Anson doing?”
“His name is Andrew, Elaine.” He peeled her arms from around his neck and took a step back. Her mouth crimped in annoyance, either at being corrected in front of the hospital staff, whom she would consider “the help,” or because he refused to address her as Mother. She’d never done anything to deserve the title.
“Andrew. Of course,” she murmured as she glared daggers at him.
His father approached, extending his hand, but Aaron ignored it. He had no time for these faux attempts at congeniality. “What do you want?”
The old man stiffened. “We’re here to see our grandson, of course.” He spoke loudly enough to make sure everyone in the vicinity would hear him.
Aaron wasn’t fooled. His parents had an ulterior motive and he was pretty sure he knew what it was.
“That’s not going to happen.” He spoke quietly but clearly, making his point while trying to ignore the curious glances onlookers sent their way. “We won’t discuss it here. Where are you staying?”
His father gave him the name of a nearby five-star hotel which Aaron would end up paying for. In spite of that, his mother complained. “It’s just a room. They wouldn’t even give us a suite.”
“You should have stayed in Boca, then,” Aaron answered. “Give me your room number. I’ll meet you there later. Don’t come back here.”
While his father blustered, Aaron turned away. As he did, Marcus appeared. “Hey, Dad. What’s going on? Mom’s getting worried.” Then he froze as Aaron’s mother rushed at him.
“Marcus!” She squeezed him in a tight hug. Before Aaron could pull her away and snarl Get your hands off him, Marcus weakly returned her hug. His face was a mask of confusion. “Grandmother? What are you doing here?”
Aaron froze. He’d never spoken of his parents to either of his sons, much less introduced them. How could Marcus have recognized her?
“Why, because you asked us, dear. Your message was so touching, it nearly broke our hearts. How could we refuse?”
Red-faced, Marcus glanced at his father, then back to his grandparents. “But I thought you’d let me know first…”
For a moment Aaron couldn’t move, as if he were encased in a block of ice. At last he found his voice. “Marcus, what’s going on?”
His son’s features sagged in misery. “Dad, I—”
“At least someone in this family had the decency to contact us and let us know our grandson was at death’s door,” Aaron’s father boomed. “If we’d waited for you—”
“You’d have waited ‘til Hell freezes over.” Aaron clenched his teeth as anger shot through him. Bad enough his parents had come here trying to worm their way into his life. Now they were messing with his son.
“Go back to the hotel,” he told them, no longer caring what kind of spectacle he created. “I’ll come when I can.”
They left, grumbling, and Aaron turned to his son. Marcus looked dazed, as though he’d seen a ghost. Maybe he had. Ghosts from his father’s past. “Dad, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean for things to turn out like this.”
“Never mind that. Just tell me what’s going on. Wait a minute.” Trying to keep a lid on his anger, he gestured to Andy’s room. “Let’s keep what little privacy we can.”
Back in the private room, he explained the situation to Claudia. “Did you know anything about this?”
Before she could answer, Marcus said “No. I never told her a thing. It’s true I contacted your parents but I thought they’d tell me if they were coming so I could let you know. I never wanted to spring it on you like this.”
“Hold on. Back up a minute. You contacted them how?”
“Dad. Everyone’s on social media now. I found them on Facebook and—”
Aaron impatiently waved away the rest of the explanation. “All right. But why, Marcus?”
“You’ve never talked about them. Your mother and father. Andy and I were always curious. We had mom’s parents, Grandma Jo and Grandpa Mickey before they died. They were great, but I always wondered why we never knew your parents. When I was a kid, I even wondered if they were dead.”
Aaron gave him a sharp look. “I never said they were.”
Marcus shrugged. “No, but you never spoke about them at all. When I asked, you’d always change the subject or tell me I was too young to understand.
So I filled in the gaps myself. Until I asked Mom.”
Startled, he glanced at Claudia, who gazed back at him somberly. “When was that?”
“I don’t know, years ago. Maybe I was eleven or twelve.”
Without moving his gaze from Claudia, Aaron asked “What did she say?”
“That they’d done something very cruel that hurt you a lot. That’s why they weren’t part of our family and why you never talked about them.”
A wave of gratitude moved Aaron. She was one of the few people who knew the full story. It moved him to know that she’d defended him in such a compassionate, thoughtful way.
“You never mentioned it to me,” he murmured.
Her expression was tender and soft with sympathy. “There seemed no need to bring it up.”
“And I never asked again, because I didn’t want you to hurt more,” Marcus went on.
That was just like his son. Sensitive and caring, aware of other peoples’ needs. The qualities made that him such a fine teacher. And a fine man. Qualities he’d inherited from Claudia.
Aaron felt a wash of shame that his son, just a boy at the time, had felt the need to protect him. “It wasn’t your job to worry about me.” Still, Marcus had crossed a line. “I didn’t talk about them because it was a private matter. You shouldn’t have involved yourself in it.”
Claudia spoke. “Aaron, he’s a grown man now. Not a child. He deserves to hear the truth.”
Marcus stood his ground. “They’re your parents, but they’re also my grandparents. And Andy’s. You may not want a relationship with them, but maybe we do. Don’t you think we have the right to decide that for ourselves?”
“Don’t drag your brother into this. He’s not the one who messaged those people. You are.”
“Those people are our family. I don’t know what they did to you, but it was a long time ago. If you want to stay angry at them, that’s your business. But with Andy being hurt, it seemed like the right time to reach out to them. I’m sorry you were blindsided. I never expected them to land here with no warning. And I never said anything about Andy being at death’s door.” Marcus’ lip curled in distaste. “They must have misunderstood me, because I know he’s going to wake up and be fine.”
Robotically, Aaron answered “Yes. He is.” He refused to consider any other possibility. “All the same, you shouldn’t have brought them here. They’re not good people.”
“Maybe they’ve changed.” Marcus was always the first to give anyone the benefit of the doubt. “You haven’t seen them, talked to them, in years. And they’re here. Maybe they really want another chance.”
His son’s idealism opened a tiny crack in Aaron’s stony heart, allowing the merest bit of doubt to creep in. Was he completely insane to wonder if his parents wanted to heal the rift, in spite of the scene they’d enacted just a few minutes ago? Or was he, and his determination to see the worst in them at every turn, the real problem?
Chapter 8
Claudia did her best to keep cool and smooth matters over between Aaron and Marcus, but her nerves were in shreds. Her family had enough stress and worry over Andy. They didn’t need to deal with Aaron’s parents on top of it. What on earth could they want? She couldn’t share her son’s optimism about their being here. Like Aaron, she could only suspect the worst.
Memory took her back to the day Aaron asked her to accompany him to his grandparents’ Long Island estate. They’d been dating a few months by then, never speaking of his family, so his request had startled her.
He’d been summoned by his grandmother and in spite of his misgivings, decided to pay her a visit…
Aaron gripped her hand tightly as he rang the mansion’s doorbell. Though sunglasses shaded his eyes, Claudia suspected he wore them more to hide his feelings than to protect his eyes from the sun.
A solemn middle-aged woman answered the door. “Please come in, Mr. Sinclair.”
As he and Claudia stepped inside, he said “Maribel, you’ve called me Aaron since I was a little boy. There’s no reason for that to change, just because we haven’t seen each other in a while.”
Maribel’s lips quirked in the shadow of a smile.
He turned to Claudia. “I was always in Maribel’s hair when I was a kid. Always getting into some kind of mischief and she’d have to chase me around.”
The woman’s smile grew wider. “You were a good little boy. You just had a lot of energy.”
He gave a quick grin. “She’s too nice to tell you I was a brat. Maribel, this is my friend Claudia.”
“Hello, Miss.”
“How do you do.”
His smile faded as he spoke again. “I understand my grandmother would like to see me.”
“Yes, sir—uh, Aaron. She’s upstairs in her room. Please go on up.”
He slipped off his sunglasses, revealing the purplish shadows under his eyes. “How is she? Really?”
Maribel’s eyes teared up. She shook her head. “Not good. The doctor says she hasn’t long now.”
He hadn’t released Claudia’s hand since they entered the mansion and now he squeezed it so tightly she almost winced.
“Sorry,” he murmured, loosening his hold.
“It’s all right.” Glancing at the grand oak staircase, she asked “Should I wait down here?”
“No. Please come with me.” He took a deep breath, as though steadying himself. “I don’t think I can do this without you.”
Together they climbed the stairs. Aaron turned left and led her to the end of the hall. “My grandfather’s room is on the other side of the house,” he murmured. Was it a random thought passing through his mind or was he telling her something important?
He tapped lightly on the door. A woman in pink scrubs opened it.
A voice called from inside. “Let him in, Gwen.”
Gwen turned and spoke over her shoulder. “I’m just about to do that, bossy.”
“Oh, be quiet.”
Aaron stepped into the bedroom, bringing Claudia with him. “That sounds like Miss Lucy.”
He stopped as he spotted the painfully thin woman on the bed. A brief look of shock flashed over his features before he pinned a smile to his mouth. “She can’t be too sick if she’s still issuing orders.”
Miss Lucy’s cheeks were shrunken and pale but she wore lipstick, as though wanting to look her best. A silky scarf was tied around her head. “You be quiet, too.” She gave a harsh, dry cough. “And get over here and kiss me.”
He obeyed as his grandmother gave Claudia the once-over. Though the woman was bed-ridden and unwell, her eyes missed nothing.
“And who is this?” Miss Lucy asked imperiously, lifting her penciled-in eyebrows.
“This is my friend, Claudia. Be nice to her, Miss Lucy.”
“Don’t be impertinent. I’m always polite to guests. You may recall that it was I who taught you good manners. How do you do, young lady?”
“How do you do, Mrs. Sinclair?”
“I like her,” Aaron’s grandmother said decisively. “She looks smart. Not like those hootchies you usually go around with. Isn’t that what they’re called? Hootchies?”
“I have no idea,” he replied, rolling his eyes.
“Do you smoke?” Miss Lucy demanded of Claudia.
“No.”
“Good. I knew you were smart. I smoked two packs a day for decades, so I could stay thin. That’s what landed me here.” She gave another cough, then looked over at Gwen. “Are you going to give me some time with my grandson or do you just plan to stand there and eavesdrop? It’s very rude, you know.”
“I’m leaving.” To Aaron she said “Don’t tire her out.”
“Don’t treat me like a child,” Miss Lucy answered. “I’m not tired in the least.”
When the nurse left, Aaron’s grandmother sank into the bedclothes, as though sapped of energy. “Sit down.”
Claudia spoke, unsure of her next move. “Maybe it’s better if I step out, too.”
“Would you
like her to stay, Aaron?”
He looked from his grandmother to her, a plea in his eyes. “Yes.”
Claudia was touched that this man, usually so confident, wanted her support now. If he needed her, she would stay.
“Then please stay, young lady.”
Aaron gestured her into a bedside chair and pulled another chair over for himself. When they were both seated, his grandmother asked, “Has my grandson told you much about me?”
“No, Mrs. Sinclair.”
The woman closed her eyes and gave a brief laugh that turned into a coughing fit. When it subsided, she said “I suppose I should be grateful for that. At least he didn’t badmouth me.”
Claudia looked at Aaron questioningly. His face was stiff and expressionless.
“Do you know why he calls me Miss Lucy? Because I’m a vain, silly woman who didn’t want to be called grandmother. I thought it made me sound old. Wasn’t that ridiculous? As though a different name made me any younger. That gives you an idea of the kind of person I am.”
She coughed again. “I’m grateful he’s come to see me though I wouldn’t have been surprised if he’d refused. It would be no more than I deserved.”
“Let’s not do this, Miss Lucy,” Aaron said, his voice low and tinged with regret.
“We have to do it, Aaron. There’s not much time left. But I’m not going to ask your forgiveness. I have no right.”
Forgiveness? Stunned, Claudia sank back in her chair. Whatever happened next, she was only here for support. Otherwise, it was her place to listen and be as unobtrusive as possible. Aaron and Miss Lucy had to work this out between themselves.
“I know I let you down. We all did,” his grandmother said. “I’m so sorry.”
“You didn’t believe me. I guess I can’t blame you. No woman wants to hear that about her husband.”
“You’re wrong. It wasn’t a matter of not believing you. I always knew you were telling the truth.”
The Billionaire's Big Risk Page 7