Boardwalk Summer

by Kimberly Fisk

  “Here.” Hope held out her hand for the cotton ball. Taking it, she cradled Susan’s hand in hers and then gently began removing the still-wet polish. When she was done, she reached across her daughter and took the small bottle of polish down from the nightstand. She gave it a shake before uncapping it. “But if you were ambidextrous, you wouldn’t need me.”

  “Yes, I would,” Susan said quietly.

  Hope leaned forward and gave her daughter a kiss on her cheek. “I’m glad.”

  Stroke by stroke, she began to apply polish to her daughter’s fingernails. With each brush, fire-engine red coated her daughter’s delicate nails. “What’s this color called?”

  “Red Hot Mama.”

  Heat spread across Hope’s cheeks. There was no reason for it; no reason at all. Except for the fact that the last time Hope had painted her toenails, Nick had noticed. His eyes had darkened and when he’d looked at her, she’d felt her stomach do a flip-flop. Smoldering, that was the only way she could describe his expression. Smoldering with passion. And for the first time she understood the phrase “just one look.” That was all it took. And her toenails were painted a tame pink. She could only imagine what he’d think of her in Red Hot Mama.

  But then she realized he’d never see them.

  “You were with Nick, right?” Susan’s question snapped Hope back into the present.

  How had her daughter known, and how had she landed on the one person Hope didn’t want to talk about? “Yes.”

  “It’s too bad. What happened.”

  Hope felt her body go hot, then cold, then hot again. Dana couldn’t . . . She wouldn’t have . . . No. There’s no way Dana would have told Susan about Nick. Her friend would never do that. “T-too bad about what?”

  “I know you don’t like the news, Mom, but you gotta stop living in a bubble.” With her free hand, Susan slid her laptop closer, opened it. After a few quick strokes on the keypad, she rotated the laptop around until Hope could see.

  FORTUNE’S MISFORTUNES, the Internet article screamed in big, bold type.

  Accident injures a member of racing phenomenon Nick Fortune’s elite pit crew. Little is known except that during routine maintenance, a floor jack failed, crushing the man’s hand . . .

  Hope couldn’t read any more. “Oh, no . . .”

  “Yeah. Ouch.” Susan took the nail polish from Hope and set it on her dresser.

  “How did you find this out?” Hope asked.

  “I Googled Nick,” Susan said with a shrug. “I still can’t believe he’s a friend of yours. He’s famous. Like really famous. He gave both Josh and me his private cell number. He said we could call or text anytime if it was okay with you.”

  An emphatic no was about to cross Hope’s lips when Susan continued, “He’s really great. I mean, Josh and I didn’t think he was really serious about it and all, but after we texted, he texted both of us right back. We’ve been texting a lot. Pretty cool, huh?”

  So much for her daughter or son asking.

  Susan swiveled the laptop back around and looked at the screen again. “I wonder if that’s why Nick’s not racing this weekend.”

  The texting was forgotten as it all started to now make sense. The phone call Nick had received as they were preparing to land. The reason he had to leave. Hope knew this accident wasn’t the reason Nick wasn’t racing tomorrow, but all she said was, “Yeah, I wonder.”

  “Mom?”

  Hope refocused. “Yes, honey?”

  Susan fanned her hands, then blew on her nails. “Do you think . . . I mean . . .”

  “What, sweetie?”

  Susan glanced down at her nails. “I’m trying—I mean, I’m trying with Chelsey’s help to do something for Josh.”

  With as much distance as Susan had been putting between her and her brother, the news surprised Hope. “That’s really nice of you girls.”

  “But now Chels is leaving on vacation.”

  floor jack fails . . .

  crushing hand . . .

  “Wh-what, honey? What did you say?”

  Susan slumped down on her bed. “Nothing. Never mind. I’m just worried about Josh.”

  “Me too.”

  “Night, Mom.”

  Hope stood, pulling the covers down and then over Susan. She leaned forward and kissed her daughter’s forehead. “Night. Love you.”

  Nineteen

  IT was just after one o’clock in the morning two days later when Nick entered the hospital. He made his way to the long bank of elevators around the corner. Within moments he was on the fourth floor. With a familiarity that surprised him, he walked to Joshua’s room, making sure he scrubbed his hands with a new thoroughness before entering. Quietly, he opened the door. A small lamp near Joshua’s bed was the only light in the room. Carefully, so as not to wake his son, Nick eased the door closed and walked over to Joshua. His baseball cap was off and Nick could see the uneven thinning pattern of his hair. A pain, sharp and persistent, pierced Nick’s heart. He would give anything to be the one lying in that bed and not his son.

  Nick knew showing up in the middle of the night wasn’t the wisest course of action, but he didn’t want to miss another moment. He’d hated how he’d had to leave Hope so abruptly and fly right out again. But he hadn’t had a choice.

  He took another step closer to the bed and then stopped short when a movement near the window drew his attention.

  Curled up on the chair, Hope slept. For just a split second, Nick thought she was a vision he’d conjured up. Ever since he’d said good-bye to her at the airport, she’d been in his thoughts.

  Her makeup (what little she did wear) had long ago worn off, and her blond wavy hair tumbled out of a haphazard ponytail and cascaded over her shoulders. Her jeans and long-sleeved T-shirt were wrinkled, as if she’d been here for quite some time. But nothing, not her rumpled clothes or the fear that clung to her, could detract from her beauty.

  He knew she’d want him to wake her and let her know he was there, but she looked so tired and he knew how little sleep she’d been getting. There would be plenty of time for them to talk later today.

  He readjusted her blanket, careful not to wake her. Then, as quietly as he could, he pulled up the only other chair in the room. Positioning it next to the bed, he sat down.

  Nick didn’t know how long he sat there. As the minutes crept by and became hours, he lost count of the times he got up to check on Joshua. A nurse—Linda—came in every so often. The routine was always the same; she’d smile at Nick and whisper, “How’s our boy?” before going about the business of checking on him. Nick felt useless. He wanted to help, had asked her several times what he could do, but she’d just smile again and tell him that his being here was the best help he could give Joshua.

  Some hours later, as faint rays of soft pink sunlight made their way into the room, Linda returned.

  “I heard the cafeteria had fresh homemade cinnamon rolls this morning,” she whispered to Nick as she checked on Josh. “You’ve been sitting here all night. Why don’t you go down and try one? Our boy here doesn’t usually wake up for another hour or so.”

  Nick didn’t want to leave, but he had the sneaking suspicion he was in the nurse’s way. He stood and stretched his cramped legs. Maybe a short walk would do him some good. Also, with the little to no sleep he’d gotten during the last few days, a shot of hot, strong coffee sounded pretty good. He glanced back to Joshua and Hope.

  “Don’t worry,” Linda said. “I’ll call if he wakes up.”

  “Thanks,” Nick said, glad he’d thought to give her his cell number earlier. “Can I bring you anything?”

  “No, but thanks for asking.”

  With a final look at Joshua, he made his way down to the cafeteria.

  Even at this early hour, with the sun barely up, the cafeteria was bustling with activity. He poured hims
elf a cup of coffee from the self-serve section, then found his way to a small table near the back. A large picture window on his right overlooked a small enclosed outdoor seating area. Large rhododendrons and sweeping ferns softened the hard brick walls. He had almost finished his coffee when he felt someone next to him. He looked up.

  “Hello, Nick.”

  “Hope,” he said, and heard the surprise in his voice. Standing, he pulled out a chair for her across from him.

  She sat down.

  The little sleep she’d gotten had softened the edges of her fatigue. But Nick knew one night of rest wasn’t what was going to make her feel better. What she needed—what they needed—was a miracle for their son.

  “Can I get you something?” he asked, retaking his seat.

  “No. I’m fine.”

  “How did you know I was here?” he asked.

  “Linda.” Hope had put on a sweater before coming down to the cafeteria, and now she pulled it tighter around her. Nick saw her shiver. With a quick “I’ll be right back,” he went to the food counter. It didn’t take him long to make another purchase: two cups of coffee and at the last minute one of the huge, gooey cinnamon rolls the nurse had told him about. He left his coffee black but added a healthy dose of cream and a packet of sugar to Hope’s. Within moments he was back at the table.

  “You didn’t have to do this,” Hope said as Nick handed her the coffee and cinnamon roll.

  “Humor me.”

  She wrapped her hands around the mug. “How did you know I preferred cream and sugar?”

  Nick was mesmerized by her. He tried to remind himself of his resolve to keep his distance, but every time he looked at her, he knew he was lost. “Some things you don’t forget.”

  She wouldn’t quite meet his gaze as she blew on her coffee, cooling it slightly, before taking a sip. She set the cup back on the table but kept her hands wrapped around it. “Between you and Dana, I’m going to get fat.”

  Nick ran his gaze over her. For that brief moment, he let his guard down and let her see just how much he desired her. When her eyes widened in surprise and a soft gasp escaped her, he knew she could see just how much. “It wouldn’t matter what you weighed. You would still take a man’s breath away. My breath.”

  She opened her mouth, as if she were about to say something, then closed it only to open it again. She fidgeted with her cup, rocking the bottom back and forth on the Formica table. “A girl could lose her head around you.”

  “Would that be such a bad thing?”

  Her cup stilled. “For me, yes. Besides, you wouldn’t have said that if you saw me when I was pregnant. I was huge. Like whale big.”

  An image of her pregnant popped into his mind. Her belly swollen and rounded. Pure male pride filled him knowing that he had helped create two such amazing kids. “I would have liked to see you then.” Emotion roughened his voice.

  She fidgeted in her seat, obviously uncomfortable with the turn the conversation had taken. “The nurse told me you’d been here most of the night.”

  “Yes.”

  She looked up at him. “I heard about the accident.”

  “Figured you would.”

  “Do you know him well? The man that was injured?”

  “Scottie? Yeah. He’s like a brother to me.”

  “You guys are that close?”

  “We’re a family. The crew, me, everyone who works in the office and shops. All of us.”

  She looked up from beneath a fringe of thick, dark lashes. “I didn’t realize. I’m sorry, Nick. Sorry your friend got hurt. Is he going to be okay?”

  A beat of pause. “His hand is busted up pretty good, but hopefully after it heals and with therapy he’ll regain some mobility.”

  Her shock was evident. “Some mobility? It’s that bad?”

  “Yes,” Nick wished he could downplay the severity of the injury but he wasn’t going to lie to Hope. “But don’t worry, Scottie will be taken care of. Like I said, we’re family. Hope, I—”

  “Please. I need to say something.”

  Nick didn’t know if it was fear at what she was going to say or guilt or regret on his part for his past actions, or a combination of all three, but he needed to speak. “If this is about what you said on the plane . . . About me not showing up to the courthouse, I’m sorry. More sorry than you’ll ever know. I hoped when we talked at dinner, when I explained what my life had been like, you’d understand what I had been up against. I’m not saying that excuses what I did but maybe helps you understand the reason I didn’t meet you as planned had nothing to do with you and everything to do with me. My failing.”

  It was several moments before Hope spoke. “What happened all those years ago shouldn’t matter—doesn’t in a lot of ways. How can it when Joshua is facing what he is? But it hurt, Nick. It hurt more than I can ever describe. I stood there for hours in the rain, never doubting for a moment that you’d show. Only when it was painfully obvious you weren’t coming did I start to understand.”

  “I was a kid, Hope. A stupid, stubborn, embarrassed kid. I’m sorry. Please believe me. But to be honest, I never truly believed you’d want to marry me. Especially when it looked like my life was going to turn out no better than my father’s.”

  “How many times do I have to tell you, who your father was had no bearing on my feelings for you? What more could I have done back then to prove that to you?” Almost angrily, she swiped her hair off her face. Then as quickly as her frustration flared, it was gone. “Honestly, I don’t want to talk about it anymore. It’s over and done with. In the past.”

  He knew that wasn’t true just as much as she did. But he knew that trying to explain further right now wouldn’t get him anywhere. “I meant what I said on the plane, Hope. I never want to lose you again. Our son is sick and that is scary as hell and causes a lot of uncertainties but there is one thing I am certain of and that’s us. You and me and Joshua and Susan. Together we can get through anything.”

  “Nick, please, don’t. It can’t work. We can’t work.”

  He wanted to get out of his chair and go over to her. He wanted to take her in his arms and hold her tight. He wanted to whisper in her ear that everything would be okay. They would find a way to make this work. He wanted to tell her . . . ah, hell, he wanted to tell her things she didn’t want to hear. She’d made that abundantly clear. But some things were worth fighting for. “Hope—”

  “Are you still planning to continue racing?”

  He had to lean forward to catch every word, she said them so quietly. Almost as if she were afraid of his answer. “Yes.”

  “Because of that championship?”

  “What do you want me to say, Hope? That winning an eighth championship doesn’t mean anything to me? That I should just throw away what I’ve worked my whole life for? No, it’s not everything, but it means a hell of a lot.”

  “That’s where we differ, Nick. The only thing that matters to me right now is getting Joshua well.”

  “And you think that’s not important to me, too?” God, she could frustrate the hell out of him. He wanted to shake her until she understood. He wanted to kiss her senseless until she stopped being so damn stubborn. “Why does it have to be one or the other? Why can’t I love and care for my children and be a driver?”

  “Because children come first. I know what it’s like to lose a father.”

  “I’m not going to walk away like your father did, Hope.”

  She didn’t say anything for the longest time. And then she looked at him. “What if you had been the one who was injured?”

  “Hope, I could be a plumber and go to work one day and have a bathtub fall on me. Life doesn’t come with guarantees.”

  “But some jobs are riskier than others.”

  For several long moments, neither of them said anything.

  It didn’t matt
er what he said, she wasn’t going to change her mind and neither was he. So, instead, he changed the subject. “Have you heard from Claire?”

  She studied him for a moment, then shook her head. “No. But I didn’t expect to. I spoke with Dr. Parker after we got back and told him about Claire getting tested. He said he was going to touch base with the doctor we saw in Minnesota and, hopefully, we should get the initial test results soon.”

  Nick nodded. He didn’t bother to tell Hope that Dr. Parker had told him the same thing when he’d called. All they could do right now was wait.

  She rubbed a hand across her forehead and let out a tired sigh. Nick wondered how long it had been since she’d had a full night’s rest. “Do you spend a lot of your nights here?”

  She gave a little shrug. “Susan’s friend and her family are flying out this morning for a vacation. Susan wanted to spend last night with Chelsey before they take off. This hasn’t been a very fun summer for her. For either of them,” Hope said quietly.

  “For any of you,” Nick countered.

  Hope gave him a wan smile. “I didn’t want Josh to be alone.”

  In that one short sentence, he saw the depth of her love and the wealth of her pain. “Susan’s coming to the hospital later, right?”

  “Yes. Chelsey’s family is going to drop her off on their way to the airport, but how did you know? Oh, wait. She told me you were texting.”

  “She assured me you said it was okay.”

  Hope wiped her hands on a napkin, then dried the ring the coffee cup had left on the table. “You know the teenage motto: don’t ask if you don’t think you’ll like the answer.”

  “I take it that means Josh didn’t ask either.”

  “No.”

  “You’re not mad, are you?”

  She looked across the table at him and realized she wasn’t. The last few days the kids had seemed more animated, especially Josh, like he had a secret. And now Hope knew what it was. And if texting with Nick was going to bring brightness into Joshua’s day—and Susan’s—there was no way Hope could deny them that. “I’m not upset.”