Boardwalk Summer

by Kimberly Fisk

  Half an hour later, Hope softly knocked on Susan’s door before opening it. The room was dark, not a single light turned on, but early-evening shadows illuminated the window, the bed Susan lay on. She was facing away from the door. Away from Hope.

  “I’m about to take off for the hospital. You sure you don’t want to come with?”

  Her daughter didn’t answer.

  “Susan?” Hope said, taking a step farther into the room.

  “I’m sure, Mom. Night.”

  Hope hesitated. She understood Susan’s reluctance. No one wanted to go to the hospital, especially not a teenager, but Hope hated leaving her daughter home alone and she hated knowing Joshua was in a hospital room by himself. “I know Josh would love to see you. Are you sure—”

  Susan flopped over, scowled at Hope. “God, Mom. How many times do I have to tell you? I. Don’t. Want. To. Go.” She turned back over, pulling her comforter high up on her neck.

  Hope let out a sigh. She walked over to her daughter and gave her a kiss on the top of her head. “Okay. You can stay home tonight, but I’ll expect you to come with me tomorrow. I’ll be back in a few hours. Call me on my cell if you need me. I left your dinner warming in the oven. I love you.” She waited for a response but knew one wouldn’t be coming. Giving her daughter a final kiss, Hope left the room, closing the door softly behind her.

  At the hospital, Hope did her best to cheer up Joshua. But he was in as dark a mood as his sister. Hope tried to entice him into playing a game of cards, but he had no interest. She tried a couple of board games, but they fell even flatter. Even the pan of brownies was a complete and utter failure. The smell of them had upset his stomach so badly she’d hurried them out of the room and given them to one of the nurses to put in their break room. Hopefully they would enjoy them. In the end, Josh settled on a movie. Some action flick that had to do with some comic book hero. Josh had seemed about as interested in it as Hope had been.

  Long after the credits rolled, Hope stayed by her son’s side. Only when he was asleep and there was no way she could put it off any longer did she leave. But like always, she felt torn. Years ago she’d seen a movie starring Michael Keaton. The character he played had found a way to clone himself. The idea tantalized Hope. If there were multiples of her, she wouldn’t feel as if she were always letting someone down. As if she were always failing. One of her could stay with Joshua full time as she longed to do. Another of her, with Susan. And another could work her job at the grocery store—maybe even picking up more hours to help with the ever-growing number of bills.

  It was only later, during the darkest hours of the night, when she was lying in bed, that she found it impossible to keep her fears and worries at bay. Without the brightness of daylight to banish them, they broke through. Too many nights she muffled her sobs into her pillow, not wanting to wake Susan. Even as she clung to the belief that Joshua was going to be fine, that a donor would be found, and the doctors would cure him, there were nights where faith was hard to find.

  And just when she’d thought she’d gotten through the day without traveling down that mental road so clearly marked closed, she thought of Nick. Of last night and how she’d let the moonlight trick her into seeing something in his eyes that wasn’t there. She’d once again believed in his promises, let his words and soft touch melt through her defenses, reach a place deep inside her that she’d thought had long ago been permanently sealed off.

  It was as if she’d learned nothing during the last sixteen years.

  Then her anger at him boiled over to anger at herself. Several times during the day she’d caught her reflection. Saw the extra care she’d taken with her makeup and hair. She’d gone through the effort for a man who so clearly didn’t deserve it, but what really was at the crux of her fury was that she’d even thought to spend that time on her appearance. What did it matter how she looked when the real issues at stake here were weighing her down nearly to her breaking point?

  And there was one other thing she couldn’t stop thinking about.

  Even with their history, even with their past and seeing his present in magazines and on television shows, why had she been so tempted last night to believe in him when he’d said, “Lean on me”?

  The telephone rang. Hope jolted upright and grabbed for her cell that was never far from her reach. But it wasn’t her cell. It was the home line. Panic spiked down her spine. Nothing good ever came from a late-night call.

  She scrambled to the side of her bed and grabbed the cordless on her nightstand, worried the sound would wake Susan and even more worried about who was calling.

  Please, not the hospital.

  Please, not Joshua.

  “H-hello?” Fear clawed at her throat, made talking all but impossible.

  “I know it’s late but this is the first chance I’ve had to call.”

  Nick.

  It was Nick calling, not the hospital.

  “I’ve just about wrapped up everything down here and should be back in Tranquility by tomorrow.”

  Hope had no idea where “down here” was, and she didn’t ask. Didn’t care. Only one thing about Nick concerned her. “I spoke with Dr. Parker and he said you haven’t made an appointment.”

  “That’s right.”

  Fury spiked her temperature. She gripped the phone tighter. “Why not?”

  “I met with my own doctor today and am having him run the test.”

  It took her a moment to process what he was saying. “Your own doctor?”

  “Yes. Mark Brandt.”

  She sagged back against her padded headboard, felt her anger leave as quickly as it had come. “That’s why you left? To meet with your doctor?”

  “The most important reason, yes.”

  She could no more stop the tears that flooded her eyes than she could control the emotion that wobbled her voice when she managed to whisper, “Thank you.”

  Nick didn’t seem to notice. “As I was saying, I’ll be back tomorrow. I’ll have to leave again in the evening, but I want to see Joshua and Susan before I go.”

  Slowly his words began to penetrate her euphoric bubble. She sat up. See them tomorrow. Leave again.

  Her past was stepping all over her present.

  Leave again.

  That one phrase played over and over in her mind. Nick had gotten tested, that was the most important thing, but her children’s hearts were equally important. Being a parent wasn’t something you tried out—like a new pair of shoes or, in Nick’s case, like a new girlfriend. Right now he might believe he wanted a relationship with his son and daughter, but what he didn’t understand was that when the newness wore off, when he got bored, or when something better came along, he would be gone. Just like before. And she wasn’t about to let the pain of that type of abandonment touch her children. “I don’t think that would be a good idea.”

  “What wouldn’t be?”

  “You seeing Joshua and Susan.”

  Two beats of dead silence. “What?”

  “Please, Nick, try to understand. I don’t think—”

  “I don’t give a damn what you think. I want to see my children. I am going to see them.”

  “Nick, being a father is a hundred percent commitment.”

  “Don’t you think I know that?”

  “Frankly, no.”

  A foul word burned the lines.

  She searched her mind, struggled to find a way to make him understand. “Why didn’t you call?”

  “What?”

  “Yesterday you made the same promise that you were going to be here, at my house, first thing in the morning to see your children and yet you never showed.”

  “I told you why.”

  “I know you left to get tested, and that means everything to me. But Nick, what if I had told Joshua and Susan you were coming and you didn’t show? How do you t
hink that would have made them feel?”

  “Damn it, Hope, this isn’t some game we’re playing. These are my children.”

  “No,” she said. “They’re mine. Tell me something, do you own a home?”

  “What does that have to do—”

  “Please, just answer. Do you have a house?”

  “Of course.”

  “How often are you there?”

  There was a heartbeat of silence, and then another. The silence became telling and just when she thought he wasn’t going to respond, he answered.

  “About four weeks a year. But don’t you dare try to tell me that how often I’m at some damn house has anything to do with my kids.”

  There was a finality in his voice; Hope knew whatever she said next, he wasn’t going to listen. “Tomorrow Susan and I will be at the hospital by eleven. Why don’t . . .” She stumbled, paused. In a couple of weeks, a month at the most, she knew Nick would change his mind and decide that being a father didn’t fit into his life. And when he made that decision and walked away, the only way her children would go on unscathed would be because they wouldn’t know that it was their father who was leaving them. An abandonment like that was something you never got over. A fact Hope knew firsthand. “You can meet us there, but on one condition.”

  “I’m listening.”

  She drew in a deep breath, knew that this was her final card to be played. She just hoped it was the right one. “For the time being, I don’t want to tell Joshua and Susan who you are. They’re dealing with a lot right now and I think it would be best if we waited. Upsetting them, especially upsetting Joshua, would not help his condition at all.”

  There was a long pause. “What are you proposing?”

  His almost reasonable tone surprised her. “We’ll tell them you’re an old friend. One from my childhood.”

  Another pause. “When would we tell them the whole truth?”

  “Oh, Nick, I don’t know. Let’s just play it one day at a time, all right? That’s about as much as I can handle right now.” Hope prayed that they’d never have to tell her children because, God help her, she didn’t want them to hate her for her lie.

  “I want what is best for Joshua and Susan, too. You know them better than anyone and if you think we should hold off on telling them, we will. But I’m not going to wait forever. When the time is right, if you don’t tell them, I will. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

  He hung up before Hope could say another word. She slumped back in her seat and clicked off the phone.

  By some miracle he had agreed to her suggestion. That should have made her feel better, feel more prepared for what lay ahead tomorrow. But she knew she’d never be ready for what she was going to have to face in only a few hours.

  Seven

  TENTATIVE rays of morning sunlight crept through the open garage door. In the corner, a radio crackled out old rock-and-roll tunes. Humming along with Billy Joel as he sang about his Uptown Girl, Hope climbed onto the open front edge of the Wagoneer’s hood.

  When sleep had proven all but impossible last night, at the first sign of dawn, she’d gotten up and headed to the kitchen to make Susan her favorite breakfast of French toast and bacon, only to remember that she’d forgotten to pick up eggs yesterday. So she’d gotten dressed, written a quick note telling Susan she’d be back in a jiff from the store, then jumped into the Jeep only to find it wouldn’t start.

  It was a bad beginning to what Hope knew would already be a trying day.

  Just last week she’d bought a new set of spark plugs and a few other items, knowing that the Jeep needed a tune-up. She just hadn’t had the time to get around to doing it. Well, no time like the present. A few minutes later she was deep under the hood, hard at work trying to break the corroded spark plugs loose.

  “Need any help?”

  Hope jumped at the sound of her daughter’s voice. She peeked out from under the hood. “Hey, sweetie. I thought you were going to sleep in.”

  Susan rubbed her eyes. “Yeah, well, the phone kept ringing.”

  With the radio playing, Hope hadn’t heard the home line. If the call had been about Joshua, she knew they’d try her cell. Just to be sure, she fished her cell out of her pocket and glanced at the screen to see if she’d missed any calls. Thankfully, she hadn’t. “I’m sorry it woke you.”

  Susan yawned loudly. “The call I answered was from Chels, so that’s okay.”

  “What’s Chelsey doing up so early?”

  Susan shrugged and picked at a nail. “A group of kids are heading down to the lake and she was wondering if I wanted to go.”

  “Sounds like fun, but—”

  “Yeah, I know. I told her I couldn’t go because you’re making me go to the hospital.”

  Part of Hope wanted to relent and let her daughter go to the lake with her friends. But over the last several weeks, Susan had come up with one reason after another to avoid visiting Josh. It had been nearly two weeks since Susan had last seen him. As much as Hope wanted to give her daughter the go-ahead to hang with her friends today, Hope knew she wouldn’t. Joshua needed to see Susan as much as she needed to see him—whether she admitted it or not.

  “I saw Maddy and her mom last night. When I told them you were coming in with me today, Maddy got really excited. She was hoping you’d bring her those books you’d told her about.”

  Maddy was a ten-year-old girl stricken with the same type of leukemia as Joshua. Over the last several weeks, Hope had gotten to know the little girl and her mother quite well. And despite their age difference, Joshua and Maddy had developed a strong bond as well. Cancer did that. Connected people—adults and children alike—where before no connection could have been found.

  After Maddy had learned that Susan used to take horse riding lessons, the little girl hadn’t stopped hounding Susan for every bit of horse knowledge she possessed whenever they saw each other. It was Maddy’s dream to one day ride a horse. During one of their short visits, Susan had promised to bring Maddy several horse books from her own collection. Maddy had never forgotten, even though it seemed to Hope that Susan had.

  Hope could have just as easily taken the books in herself, but she felt it was important for Susan to. Her daughter seemed to be pushing almost everyone away. Even now, Hope could feel Susan withdrawing.

  Responding to her daughter’s early question, Hope said, “I’d love some help.” She motioned to the tall workbench in the corner and to the plastic bag on top. “Could you grab that bag from the auto parts store for me?”

  For the next several minutes, they worked together. While Hope removed the old spark plugs, Susan took the new ones out of their small orange boxes and handed them over.

  A warm breeze blew in. From next door, Mr. Udarbe’s sprinkler system clicked on and the steady ch-ch-ch drifted in and blended with Neil Diamond’s gravelly voice coming from the radio. A lawn mower rumbled to life.

  As Hope twisted the last spark plug into place, she wondered how she had ever taken her peaceful, mundane existence for granted.

  “I don’t know why you don’t sell this old beast, Mom. It’s broken down more than it runs.”

  Hope angled around and sat on the front edge of the engine compartment. She wiped at her greasy fingers. “Sell Gertrude? But she’s part of our family.”

  Susan rolled her eyes. “Jeez, Mom, nobody names their cars. It’s . . . it’s just weird.”

  Her daughter’s expression was too serious, like it was most of the time lately. Wanting to put a smile back on Susan’s face, Hope pretended to be shocked and leaned forward, covering the headlight closest to her with her hands. “Shhh, or she’ll hear you.”

  A reluctant grin tugged at Susan. “Get a grip, Mom. The thing’s a gas hog, it’s always breaking down, you have to sit on a pillow to reach the steering wheel, and it only gets AM stations.”

  “You’re
right, but I’m attached to the old girl. We’ve been through a lot together.”

  “Yeah, right. And the Wright Brothers would insist on flying their first plane even if Boeing offered them a brand-new 747.”

  “Well, until Boeing comes knocking on our door and hands me the keys to a plane, I think I’ll stick with Gertrude.”

  “747s don’t use keys,” a deep voice interjected.

  Hope nearly tumbled off the Jeep at the sound. She turned so quickly, her head spun.

  Standing in the garage’s entrance was Nick.

  Dressed in jeans and a black Henley shirt with the sleeves pushed partway up his forearm, Nick Fortune was the epitome of every woman’s fantasy. It didn’t take a genius to understand why he’d recently been voted People’s Hottest Bachelor and Sexiest Man Alive! As if one title weren’t enough.

  Lean on me.

  She hated how her traitorous thoughts betrayed her. And hated too how instantly aware she became of how she looked in her stained mechanic’s overalls and hair that she had hardly brushed before containing it in a ponytail.

  Hope crawled down from the Jeep.

  “I tried calling,” Nick said, moving toward them. “But no one answered.”

  Susan, obviously feeling uncomfortable at being caught in her pajamas, took a few steps toward Hope and tried to hide behind her mom.

  It didn’t work.

  The moment Susan stepped out from the dark corners of the garage, Nick’s eyes found her. He couldn’t stop staring at her. “Hello,” he finally said. Hope wondered if she was the only one who heard how clogged with emotion that single greeting was.

  “Uh, h-hi.”

  Hope looked back and forth between the two. The moment wasn’t lost on her. An uneasiness settled in the pit of her stomach, and her hands, tucked safely out of sight in her overalls, knotted into fists. She plastered a smile on her face. “Susan, this is Nick. An old friend.” If her voice wavered on the last two words, she was certain she was the only one to notice.