“Sierra texted me the flight information; I was just going to pick up my boarding pass.”
She passed it to him. “Already taken care of; anything else you need?”
“Just you,” he whispered.
She shifted in her seat so she was leaning against his chest.
He wrapped his arms around her. “I thought I could do this alone, but I’m glad you came.”
“I stopped by your house and picked up an overnight bag. Trey had an extra key. I hope you don’t mind?” she asked, settling her hand on his leg.
“Don’t you still have your key?”
“I gave it to Trey after we broke up. I asked him to give it back to you. I guess he never did?”
“No, maybe because he knew I was already a wreck about losing you.” He kissed her neck. “I’m sorry about this morning. I should have...”
“Ssh, we don’t have to talk about that now.” She squeezed his leg. “Talk to me about your father, Luc. I’ve known you for years, and I’ve never even met the man.” She knew it was important for him to come to terms with his feelings before he faced his father for the last time.
He sighed, wrapping a strand of her hair around his finger. “You know he was a career politician.” He chuckled. “He had a reputation for being a real hard ass.”
She smiled, stilling the hand that stroked through her hair. “Like father, like son, huh?”
“That’s what scares me.”
She turned to face him, understanding that he was about to reveal something important. “How so?”
“My dad was self-centered, egotistical, a real tyrant when it came to getting what he wanted. His constituents loved him, his family, not so much.”
“I can’t believe you didn’t love your father, Luc. Every little boy looks up to his father, right?” She tilted her head back to look at him, but he was staring out the window.
“I did love him, especially when I was really young. I was proud of him. Hell, I wanted to be just like him when I grew up.”
“And are you?”
Luc shook his head. “Oh yeah, I’m a lot like him. I used to resent that, but I’m beginning to realize that I wouldn’t be the success I am today if not for the lessons he taught me.”
She smiled, feeling grateful that he was finally able to let his guard down and talk to her in a way he never had before. “What kind of lessons did he teach you?”
He rested his chin on the top of her head. “He taught me to go after something I want with everything I’ve got and never give up.”
She laced her fingers through his. “That sounds like an important lesson.”
“Yeah, and he also taught me that no obstacle is insurmountable, no dream too big to achieve.” Luc laughed. “I remember we used to go to the odd baseball game together, and I’d be in awe of all those famous baseball players. He told me the only things separating the pros from the players on the farm team were their drive and determination. I remembered that, and I applied it to my own business.”
“He must be proud of the success you’ve achieved.”
Luc shrugged. “I don’t know. If he is, he’s never said so. Of course, I guess I never told him I was proud of him either. But I was. I didn’t admire the kind of husband and father he was, but I still admired the man he was.” He paused. “Is… I admire the man he is.”
She turned into his arms. “It’s not too late to tell him how you feel, Luc.”
“I pray to God you’re right.”
Chapter Thirteen
Luc could not have been more shocked when he opened the door to his father’s hospital room. The man lying in the bed was a stranger to him. The formidable man he’d known his entire life was replaced by a weak and frail likeness of his father, clinging to life with the help of machines.
Luc didn’t realize he’d taken a step back, subconsciously trying to retreat, until he felt Marisa’s hand on his back, coaxing him forward. He cleared his throat, hoping to draw his father’s attention. Luc waited for some response, but instead heard only the painful sound of labored breathing reverberating off the sterile walls.
“I’ll give you two some privacy,” Marisa whispered.
He reached out to grab her hand, desperate to cling to her vitality in the face of his father’s mortality. “No, stay, please.”
She smiled and squeezed his hand. “Sure, whatever you need.” She nodded to a pair of chairs lining the wall. “Why don’t you pull up a chair? Let your father know you’re here for him.”
He looked at the non-descript, upholstered armchair and wondered how many people sat in that same chair as they watched their loved ones slip away. He cringed. He wasn’t ready to do this. He didn’t know if he would ever be ready to say good-bye to his iconic father.
When he didn’t move, Marisa seized the chair and positioned it next to the hospital bed. “Sit down,” she whispered.
Nathan Spencer stirred, struggling to open his eyes.
Luc quickly claimed the chair beside him. “Hey, Dad, it’s me, Luc. I just got here.” He reached out to grab his father’s hand and was taken aback by the feel of bone protruding beneath the thin layer of transparent skin. His father had lost so much weight since he last saw him. How long had it been? Almost two years. Two years too long.
“Luc?” he whispered. “Is that you, son?”
Luc swallowed the lump in his throat. “Yeah, it’s me, Dad. You okay? Can I get you anything?”
He tried to shake his head. “I’m okay; it’s only a... matter... of time now.”
Luc didn’t know how to respond, so he said nothing. Despite the fact that he spent his life building a career as a politician, his father didn’t believe in empty promises, so Luc wouldn’t insult his intelligence now by pretending that he was going to be fine when they both knew the odds were stacked against him.
His father finally managed to pry his eyes open. He glanced at Marisa. “Friend of yours?”
“Yeah, Dad, this is Marisa Turner, Trey’s sister.” He turned to Marisa. “She and I are...”
His father interrupted. “You always did have...impeccable taste...in women, boy.”
Marisa smiled and stepped forward to grasp his free hand. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Spencer. Luc has told me so much about you.”
He closed his eyes and grimaced, as though he were struggling to ease some unseen pain. “All bad, I’m sure.”
His father squeezed his hand, but Luc felt as though he was squeezing his heart. It hurt more than he thought it would to know the man who had raised him to be successful was facing his short-comings on his death bed, feeling like a failure himself.
“That’s not true, Dad,” Luc whispered, trying to find his voice. “I was just telling Marisa that I wouldn’t have achieved the success I have had it not been for you.”
A tear slid down Nathan’s wrinkled cheek. “If I taught you anything, it was... how to be a... poor excuse for a father.”
Luc felt his heart stutter. How could his father know about his child? He wasn’t even on speaking terms with his parents while he was living with Shana. “What are you talking about, Dad?”
He closed his eyes, drawing a labored breath. “I know, son.”
Luc’s eyes shot to Marisa, who was clearly trying to understand the meaning behind his father’s ominous statement. “Uh, Marisa, could you give us a minute?” He knew his sudden request for privacy would be met with a barrage of questions later, but he couldn’t risk having Marisa find out about his daughter this way.
Marisa hesitated, her gaze travelling from Luc to his father. “Uh sure, I’ll just wait outside.”
Nathan raised his hand mere inches off the bed. “If I don’t... see you again...it was nice...to meet you.”
Marisa blinked back the tears flooding her eyes. “It was nice to meet you too, sir.” She looked at Luc, a frown drawing a line between her eyebrows. “Let me know if you need me, Luc.”
He shook his head. “Thanks.”
“Ma
risa?” Nathan said.
She turned toward him. “Yes, sir?”
He tried to smile. “Take good...care of my...boy for me, will you?”
Marisa walked around the bed to rest her hands on Luc’s shoulders. “Mr. Spencer, your son can take care of himself.” She winked at the old man. “I suspect that’s a trait he got from you?” Her hand eased down Luc’s arm, resting on his bicep. “He’s the strongest, most determined man I’ve ever met, in fact. You should be very proud of him.”
Nathan looked his son in the eye. “He’ll never...know...how proud I am.”
Luc reached up to grasp Marisa’s hand. He held it against his cheek, kissing her palm. “Thank you.” He knew she was trying to bridge the gap between father and son, making certain they didn’t leave anything left unsaid.
“I’ll let you two talk now.” She reached over to kiss Nathan’s weathered cheek. “I just wanted to thank you for raising such an amazing son, Mr. Spencer. I can’t imagine my life without him.”
Nathan just shook his head, fighting back tears as he watched Marisa close the door behind her.
“Some...woman you’ve...got there, son. Don’t...let her get away,” he whispered.
Luc could tell his father was having more trouble communicating, and he was terrified their window of opportunity was closing. “About that comment you made earlier, Dad...”
“Sssh, there are...things I need to say...and I need you to...listen.”
Luc knew how much it cost his father to utter the words, so he remained quiet and waited for him to continue.
“I’m sorry, Luc.” He drew a sharp breath and rested his hand on his chest. “I should have...been a better father to you.” He opened his eyes to look at Luc. “I should...have been there...for you when you...needed me.”
Luc gripped his hand, feeling the weight of regret claiming the empty space between them. “You were there for all the important events, Dad. You were there for my graduation ceremonies, for...”
“If that were... true...you would have told...me I had a granddaughter.”
Luc felt the steady thump of his heart beating double time against his chest. “How did you know?”
“She reached out...to me a few...years ago.” Another tear slipped down his cheek. “She’s a beautiful... girl, son. You’d be... so proud of her. I know... I am.”
Luc could scarcely believe his father had built a relationship with the daughter who had remained a stranger to him. The fact that she reached out to her grandfather instead of him spoke volumes. “I can’t believe this.” Luc dropped his head.
His father squeezed his hand. “It’s not too late...for you to get...to know...your little girl, son.”
He stared at his father, trying to process his words. His father couldn’t go back and un-do the mistakes he’d made, but he still had time to atone for his sins. Maybe he could repair some of the damage he’d done before he found himself in his father’s position, lying on his death bed trying to come to terms with a lifetime of regrets because he was never the kind of father he wished he was.
“Maybe you’re right, Dad. I sure would like to try.”
“Another thing...son. Don’t be the...kind of husband...I was.”
Luc closed his eyes against the onslaught of painful memories. He saw his mother lying in a fetal position on the floor when his father finally walked out the door for the last time. He suspected his dad wasn’t the only one with regrets.
“You were building your career, Dad. I didn’t understand at the time, but I do now. I’ve given my life to my career, so I know how all-consuming it can be when you love what you do.”
Nathan gripped the sheet. “It’s too late...for me. It’s...not too late...for you.” He lifted a finger to point at the closed door. “That girl...loves you.”
Luc looked at the closed door, thinking about the woman on the other side. She sat out there, waiting to support him through one of the most difficult times in his life, despite the fact that he’d done nothing to deserve her devotion. He needed to make some changes in his life, starting with his daughter and the woman he loved.
“I love her too, Dad.”
“You gonna... marry her?”
Luc smiled. “I’ve asked her, but I have a feeling I may have to work a little harder to get her to say yes.”
A tear slipped down Nathan’s cheek as he drew a harsh breath. “Wish I... could be there... to see you get... married.”
Luc gripped his father’s shoulder. “I do too, Dad. More than you know.”
“About Nikki...”
“I’m glad you got to know her, Dad.”
He smiled briefly and shook his head. “Me too.”
“I’m gonna do my damndest to make things right with her. I promise you that.”
Nathan raised his hand to reach out to Luc. “See that you...do, boy.”
Luc gripped his father’s cold, trembling hand. “I love you, Dad. I should have said that more often.”
Nathan’s mouth quivered. “I’m the one...who should have...said it more. Sorry I didn’t. I...love...you, son. You were...my greatest...accomplishment.” He paused to draw a breath. “Not the...power or money...you.”
Luc lowered his head to the bed, and his father raised his hand to stroke his hair. “Thanks...for being...here today. I didn’t...deserve it.” He drew a last, gasping breath.
Luc felt the sharp pierce of the machine reverberating through him. He leaned over to kiss his father’s forehead, brushing his hand over his face to close his eyes. “I love you, Dad,” he whispered.
Marisa set aside the magazine she was skimming when a mother and her teenaged daughter approached the nurse’s station. Something was vaguely familiar about the girl, making Marisa question whether she’d met her somewhere before.
The girl’s mother exchanged a few words with the nurse behind the desk before leading her daughter to a bank of chairs across from Marisa.
Marisa smiled at the pair, but only the mother offered a tight smile in return. The girl was clearly upset; her blue eyes seemed swollen, like she’d been crying. Once they sat, the woman put her arm around her daughter, who laid her head on her shoulder.
“Why can’t I go in and see Grand-dad?” the girl whispered. “I don’t wanna wait, Mom. If I do, it might be too late.” She bit her quivering lip, her eyes filling with tears. “I wanna say good-bye to him.”
“The nurse said your dad is in there with him. Just give them some time together, Nikki.”
The girl sat up straight, swiping at the tears staining her cheeks. “That man is not my dad; he was just a sperm donor. Liam is my dad.”
The woman looked mortified as her eyes scanned the room to assess who might have heard her daughter’s outburst. Finally her eyes settled on Marisa. “I’m sorry about that.”
Marisa raised her hand, shifting down a few seats. “Please, don’t apologize. I’ll give you two a little privacy.”
The teen crossed her arms over her chest. “I don’t care who knows that I have a dead-beat dad.”
The girl’s mother gripped her knee. “Nikki, please stop it. You’re embarrassing me and yourself.”
Nikki turned her head to glare at her mother. “Why? You don’t want people to know you got knocked up by some loser who skipped town, never to be seen or heard from again?” She shrugged her shoulders.
“It happens, Mom. It’s not your fault.”
Marisa watched the heat creep up the woman’s neck, the color staining her fair cheeks. She was very beautiful, with light blonde hair and eyes. Her daughter, on the other hand, had dark hair, sun-kissed skin, and light eyes, making Marisa question whether she looked more like her “dead-beat” dad.
Marisa felt sorry for the girl. Her own father was such a strong presence in her life that she couldn’t imagine what kind of man would walk away from his own child. In Marisa’s opinion, men like that didn’t deserve to have children.
A piercing beep cut through the silence, causing a small group
of nurses and doctors to rush into Nathan’s room.
Marisa closed her eyes, trying to imagine how difficult it was for Luc to watch his father slip away. She wished she was in there to hold his hand, just to let him know he wasn’t as alone as he felt.
The girl, who was watching the commotion, began to sob. “Oh God, they’re going into Grand-dad’s room. Does that mean... is he gone?”
Her mother pulled her into her arms, stroking her hair. “I don’t know, honey.”
“Oh no.” She sobbed, fisting her hands against her mother’s back. “Mom, I never got to say good-bye.”
Marisa leaned forward, anxious to ease the girl’s distress. “No, sweetie, I think you’re mistaken. The man in that room didn’t have any grandchildren.”
Both women turned to face her. “What are you talking about?” the girl asked. “The nurse said my grandfather was in that room.”
“She must have been mistaken,” Marisa said gently. “What’s your grandfather’s name?”
“Nathan Spencer.”
Marisa must have looked as shocked as she felt because the other woman leaned forward, asking, “Miss, are you all right?”
Marisa shook her head, trying to process the girl’s words. “I don’t understand. I thought Luc was an only child.”
“He is,” the woman said, looking confused.
Marisa’s head shot up. “How do you know that?”
She put her arm around the girl at her side. “Because Nikki is Luc’s daughter.”
Marisa heard the words echo through her head like a sadistic mantra. “No, that’s not possible. Luc would have told me if he had a child.”
The woman glared at her. “I can assure you Nikki is his daughter. And you would be?”
“I’m...” she paused, unsure how to define their relationship. “I’m a close friend.”
The daughter snorted. “Obviously not as close as you thought if he didn’t mention the fact that he had a kid.”
Marisa looked into the young woman’s eyes and suddenly understood the sense of familiarity that struck her earlier. Nikki looked so much like Luc it was haunting. Had she known he had a daughter, she would have recognized the resemblance immediately. “I’m sorry,” she whispered. “I had no idea.”
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