“You can’t live your life worrying about the what ifs. Life dealt Joshua a shitty hand, but he doesn’t want to dwell on that. He wants to put the past behind him and move forward.” Nick paused. “That’s what he wants for you, too.”
“I’m a mom, I’ll always worry.”
Nick chuckled softly. “True enough. But there needs to be a balance. Joshua and Susan want you to be happy, Hope. The kids are worried about you.”
Hope straightened. “Worried? About me? But why?”
“They say you rarely smile. Or laugh. It’s as if you’re always waiting for the other shoe to drop.”
Hope leaned her hip against the countertop, chewed on her bottom lip. “I never realized the kids had picked up on that.”
“I think they know a lot more than you think.”
“I know they know a lot more than I realize.”
“Don’t let fear win,” Nick eventually said.
“I’m trying.”
He tipped her chin. “I’m willing to give you time—”
“Time and space?” she asked, smiling at the words he’d used earlier.
“Time,” he said again. “But just know, Hopeful, I’m not giving up.” He brushed a quick kiss across her lips, then walked back outside.
As Hope watched him exchange a few words with Dana and then hug the kids good-bye, she couldn’t help but feel a tug of disappointment that he hadn’t kissed her like he had in the hallway at the hospital.
* * *
THE hot days of August gave way to the even hotter days of September. The first few weeks Joshua was home were the happiest and the most terrifying of Hope’s life. Without the constant monitoring and supervision of the doctors and nurses, Hope felt frightened and inept. She worried constantly. What if Joshua developed an infection? Or jaundice? Started to reject? Or any one of the other many complications that could arise from the transplant? What if something went wrong and she didn’t see it? She stayed home from work, hovering over him, undoubtedly driving him to distraction. She worried about him constantly and found sleep as elusive with him home as it had been when he was hospitalized. Some nights she’d wake in a cold sweat and rush to his room to assure herself he was okay. But as the weeks passed and Josh thrived, Hope began to relax little by little.
By the end of September their house had turned back into a home. Even though they still took precautions where germs were concerned, the house was once again filled with teenagers. Music played too loud. Voices raised too high. A mountain of dirty dishes. A messy house. A well-loved home. It was one of the best gifts Hope had ever received.
“So when are you going to stop being so stubborn?” Dana said a few nights later as they were watching some Adam Sandler movie the kids thought hilarious. Hope thought maybe the appeal would grow on her after a bottle (or two) of wine. Adam had been paused while Josh and Susan were in the kitchen making popcorn. Hope had made tacos but Josh hadn’t even finished his first one. His appetite still lagged. Hope knew he didn’t even want the popcorn but was helping his sister nonetheless.
Hope took a sip of her wine. “I’m not stubborn.”
“You’re the most stubborn person I know.”
“Thanks.”
Dana grinned. “It’s as clear as the nose on my face that you’re in love with that man.”
Hope nearly choked on her wine. She hadn’t been expecting that comment. She wanted to deny what Dana had said, but it was a truth she’d already admitted to herself and to Nick. She did love him. More now than when they’d been teenagers, as hard as that was for her to believe because she’d been so crazy in love with him then. But she was scared. She couldn’t shake the crash from her memory, couldn’t understand how she could commit to him when her life would be one of constant fear.
“I don’t want to be like my mom,” Hope said.
Dana’s glass arrested halfway to her lips. “Um. You’re not.”
Hope smiled at Dana, loving her unwavering loyalty. “My mom has let anger and bitterness dictate her life. Am I doing the same thing with fear? I do love Nick. But every time I think I can get past his racing, I see that horrible crash.”
Dana set her glass down on the coffee table. She took Hope’s hand in hers. “First of all, you are not your mother. You never could be. But I think what you’re really asking is, can you open yourself up to the possibility of pain? Of loss? And sweetie, that’s a question only you can answer. But ask yourself this: what will you be missing if you don’t?”
* * *
LATER that night, Hope bolted up in bed. Something had woken her. She flung off the covers and her robe was only half on when she left her room. She went straight across the hall to Joshua’s room.
Empty.
She checked Susan’s room, but her daughter was fast asleep. She then went to the bathroom. No Josh.
A noise down the hall drew her.
She headed to the kitchen and let out a sigh of relief when she saw him. He had the refrigerator door open and his head was poked inside.
“Hi, honey.”
Joshua jerked back, bumped his head. Rubbing it, he turned and saw her. “Hey, Mom.”
Hope glanced at the wall clock. Three thirty. “What are you doing up?”
Josh grabbed the jug of milk, shut the fridge door, and made his way over to the counter. “I’m kinda hungry.”
Finally!
He got a glass from the cupboard.
“Would you like me to reheat some tacos?”
He wavered. “Nah. I’ll just have the milk and go back to bed.”
And then she knew. “How about some homemade pancakes?”
His eyes lit up for a brief moment, and then he said, “No. It’s okay. It’s the middle of the night.”
“It has to be breakfast somewhere in the world.”
Joshua laughed. “What can I do to help?”
“Not a thing,” she said, laughing along with him and grabbing her apron out of the drawer. “You just sit and keep that appetite growing.”
Within minutes, she’d found a bag of chocolate chips in the pantry along with the other dry ingredients she’d need. After a quick raid on the fridge for butter, milk, and eggs, she had the batter started and, in no time, pancakes sizzling. In the freezer she found frozen strawberries and started them heating in a saucepan on the stove.
In less than twenty minutes, she slid the large platter of pancakes onto the table in front of him.
His eyes bulged and he smiled at her. “I’m hungry, but not that hungry.”
He’d eaten two pancakes and was on his third before he showed any signs of slowing. He closed his eyes and a sigh of pure pleasure escaped him. “Mmmmmm, I never thought I’d taste these again.”
Hope sucked in her breath, felt the start of tears. “Oh, honey.”
His pancake paused halfway to his mouth. “Sorry, I shouldn’t have said that.”
“No, it’s okay. I want you to tell me how you feel. How you felt. In the hospital, you never wanted to talk about it.”
“Yeah . . . well.” He took another bite, chewed, swallowed.
“Tell me. Please.”
He set down his fork, took a drink of milk, then wiped his mouth with the sleeve of his pajamas. “I don’t want to hurt you anymore.”
“Joshua, all you have ever done is bring me the greatest joy.”
He looked down at his plate. “That’s not true,” he said in a quiet way that showed her just how much of a man he was. How much cancer had matured him—and how could it have not? “When I was sick, I was a burden to you, in a lot of ways. I know I caused you all kinds of pain, but I didn’t mean to. When I found out who Nick was and why you’d called him, I thought that was it. He wasn’t a match and I was going to die. So I decided I’d run away, end it, so you didn’t have to be hurt anymore.”
“Oh, G
od, Josh.” She was crying openly now.
“Don’t cry, Mom. Everything’s okay now.”
She got up from the table and wrapped her arms around her son. Tears streamed unchecked down her face. “Yes, everything’s okay now,” she whispered.
Josh hugged her back. “Yeah, it is. And Nick helped me to see that.”
“Nick?” His admission stunned her.
“It’s what he said to me when I ran away.”
Hope leaned back, perching on the seat next to Josh. “What did he tell you, honey?”
“I dunno. Stuff. He talked about living and dying and how life was hard. But I think what really hit me the most was when he told me how in order to really live, you have to take risks.” Josh shrugged again. “So I did. I went back, and we found out Grandma was a match.”
Hope was out of her seat again with him back in her arms, hugging him with a mother’s ferocity she knew would never leave her.
“What’s going on? Is something wrong?” Susan stood at the edge of the kitchen, rubbing her eyes.
Hope sniffled, then gestured for Susan to come closer. “Nothing’s wrong,” she said, pulling Susan into a hug along with her and Josh. “Nothing’s wrong at all. Everything’s perfect.”
“Okay, Mom, you’re getting weird,” Susan said.
Hope laughed. “Mothers are allowed to be weird; it’s in the book.” Hope pulled Susan down on her lap, her daughter who was two inches taller than she was, but she’d always be her little girl.
“One day you’re gonna have to show us this book,” Josh said.
“Yeah. I want to see where it says ‘Because I said so’ is a valid answer.”
Hope burst out laughing.
“Pancakes?” Susan asked. “And no one woke me?”
Josh shoved a huge bite into his mouth and grinned.
Susan went to the fridge. Opening it, she grabbed something and then came back to the table. She set a can of Reddi-wip next to Josh. “You can’t have chocolate chip and strawberry pancakes without the whipped cream.”
“No, you can’t.” Josh uncapped the can and squirted an impressively tall tower of whipped cream on his half-eaten pancakes. He then created an equally tall tower on top of the pancakes Susan had just piled on a plate for herself.
And just like that, it was like old times. Good times. The best of times. Susan and Joshua continued to eat. At one point, Josh got up and refilled his milk glass and told his sister to get her lazy butt up and get her own drink when she asked him to get her a glass, too.
With a smile, Hope listened to their bickering.
The words Nick had said to Joshua kept coming back to her. And the words he’d said to her. Don’t let fear win.
For so long, she’d been afraid of risking her heart in case it got hurt again. She’d kept it protected, locked away except for where her children were concerned. But she was beginning to realize that wasn’t a way to live. Loving meant risking. Risking your heart.
Yes, Nick still had a job that involved high risk, but he was right, life was unpredictable. You could do everything right and bad things could still happen. You only had to walk the halls of the pediatric oncology department to see that.
“Mom?” Susan said. “You look a little weird.”
“Weirder than normal,” Josh expanded around a mouthful of pancakes.
Hope took a breath and tried to slow her racing heart. She reached forward and held Joshua’s hand in one of hers, and Susan’s in the other. “Do you remember when we talked in the hospital? When you found out about Nick being your father?”
“Yeah,” they both said.
She took another breath, gave their hands a squeeze. “I want to . . . No, I need to tell you again how sorry I am for not telling you about your father a long time ago. I thought I was doing the right thing. Protecting you. But now, now I realize how wrong I was. I’m sorry. So very, very sorry.”
“Yeah, but Mom,” Susan said, “you were like just a little older than me when you had us. I mean, wow.” Susan looked to Josh, and he nodded in agreement.
“Even though I was young, I should have done things differently.”
“Don’t beat yourself up about it, okay?” Josh told her.
She squeezed their hands again. “Have I told you two lately how amazing you are?”
They grinned and Josh said, “Amazing enough to let me get a car?”
She laughed. “Let’s talk about that later.” She smiled at them again. “Now, I have something else I want to talk to you two about.”
Susan and Joshua exchanged a grin.
“You don’t have to tell us,” Josh said.
“Yeah, we already know,” Susan said.
“Know what?”
“That you . . . you know . . .”
“Like him,” Susan finished. “Like Dad.”
Hope smiled. “Amazing and smart kids. How would you feel if tomorrow”—she glanced at the clock—“I mean today, I fly down to see him? I’d take all of us, but—”
“I can’t fly right now,” Josh said matter-of-factly.
“Susan?” Hope turned to her daughter.
“Go,” Susan said.
“I’ll call Dana and—”
“Go,” they said in unison, smiling.
“Really?”
“Yes,” Susan said.
“Yeah,” from Josh. “It’s actually kinda . . .”
“Cool,” his sister finished for him.
“Yeah. Cool,” Josh said before taking another bite.
Twenty-five
HOW could it possibly take so long to get ready for a short trip?
After learning from the kids what track Nick would be at, she went online and booked the first available flight. With Nick paying off the balance of the hospital bill, her credit card had just enough room for the ticket price. The only problem was that the next flight to Indianapolis wasn’t until tomorrow morning. She all but growled her frustration. She was tempted to pick up the phone and call him, but then she’d think about how it would feel to be in his arms, and him kissing her when she told him.
She packed and repacked her suitcase three times. She fretted over each item. She wanted to look her best when she saw him. She dug through her closet, found that little black dress she’d taken with her to Minnesota. She remembered the way Nick’s eyes had raked her over from head to toe when she’d been wearing it. She didn’t know if the opportunity would arise to wear it, but just in case, she packed it carefully hoping it wouldn’t wrinkle.
Dana had agreed to stay over while she was gone. She knew the kids were old enough they didn’t need anyone to watch them and Josh was doing great, but still Hope felt better knowing Dana would be there.
She heard a knock at the door and yelled for one of the kids to get it.
“Mo-om!” Susan yelled from the front of the house.
Hope wanted to roll her eyes like her teenagers. Couldn’t they ever walk somewhere to talk to her instead of yell?
“What is it?” she asked her daughter when she reached the living room.
A man in a blue uniform was standing in her foyer. “Ms. Thompson?”
“Yes?”
He smiled. “I was under instructions to personally deliver this to you.” He handed her an expensive-looking cream envelope. With a slight bow, he was gone, shutting the door behind him.
“What is it?” Josh asked from the couch.
“I don’t know.” Slowly, carefully, Hope slid her finger under the back flap and opened the envelope. She pulled out a thick piece of stationery. On the top was the embossed letter F.
Her heart began to pound against her chest and her breath came out in little short gasps.
Hopeful,
Please watch Channel 4 tonight at eight o’clock.
Nick.
She read the note again, and then again.
Her heart began to beat faster and faster still and she knew she needed to talk to him. Hear his voice. She didn’t want to wait a moment more to tell him. She picked up her phone and tried calling but for the first time, he didn’t answer. Or answer her texts.
* * *
“QUIET, I can’t hear!”
“You be quiet!”
“You brats better both be quiet,” Dana said. “Or I’ll kick you out of the living room.”
Dana’s empty threat actually hushed the twins up. Hope would have smiled if she hadn’t been so darn nervous. She glanced back to the clock. 7:56. One minute later than the last time she looked.
The four of them were in her living room, glued to the television set.
7:57.
7:58.
7:59.
Her stomach was in knots and her palms all sweaty. She’d tried to get hold of Nick all day, but he wasn’t answering his phone. So she’d waited, knowing he’d call the children like he always did. But for the first time since meeting his son and daughter, he hadn’t called. She was about out of her mind.
The commercial ended and the music announcing the start of the next program began.
“Good evening, and welcome.” The music swelled and the image of Diane Sawyer came on the TV.
The picture on the television changed. Images of Nick flashed across the screen. They were pictures that captured his entire career, and as the images continued to play, Diane continued to talk.
“A little over a decade ago, a young man from Minnesota blasted onto the racing circuit and just as quickly into stock car racing history. NASCAR hasn’t been the same since. As easily as a child’s set of building blocks, long-standing records have toppled under his talent. Little did anyone realize that in just a few short years his name would be whispered in reverence alongside the likes of Waltrip, Petty, and the late Dale Earnhardt.
“I am, of course, talking about none other than last year’s champion and the man positioned to take that coveted title once again this year, Nick Fortune.”
The screenshot changed to a live image of Diane Sawyer seated in front of a fireplace and Nick seated across from her.
Boardwalk Summer Page 32