by JoAnn Durgin
Clinton shrugged. “One of the nurses brought them in. Don’t rightly know where she got them.” He scratched his head. “She said, ‘Someone’s thinking of you, Mr. McClaren,’ and put them over there by the window. I was kinda out of it and didn’t think much about it.”
“I guess someone else besides Mama knows about them,” she said, half under her breath. She couldn’t take the time to puzzle over it now. “I’ll let you change while I go fill out the release forms or whatever I need to do. Try not to annoy the nurses too much. Or Jackson.”
“Can’t promise that.” When he chuckled, Serenity was afraid he’d start coughing and dislodge something. She was grateful when nothing happened.
“I’ll stay and help him get dressed,” Jackson said. “If he plays his cards right, I might even do some wheelies with his wheelchair.”
Shaking her head, she hoped Jackson was teasing. “Listen, I talked to Charlie this morning, and he’s planning on coming by the house this afternoon for a visit, if you’re up to it.”
“Did you tell him to bring his checkers?”
“I did, and he already had them by the door, ready to go. Don’t be surprised if you get a visit from Deidre tomorrow, too.”
“Guess I’d better put on my designer duds for that girl. She’s a real fashion setter, that one. You met Deidre Payne yet, Jackson?”
“Haven’t had the pleasure,” he said, crumpling his coffee cup and tossing it in the trash can from several feet away.
“Good aim,” her father said. “You should take Serenity and have one of them double dates or whatever with Deidre and her husband. You’d like Wes. He’s a landscaper and developer here in town. Got a solid reputation.”
“Is that a fact?” Jackson moved his gaze to hers, a question in his eyes. “I might have a project for him if he’s game.”
An hour later, Serenity’s eyes misted as she watched Jackson with her father. The two men in her life. That stopped her thoughts cold, but Jackson was undeniably part of her life now.
“Park me in my recliner and I’ll be fine,” Clinton said as Jackson opened the front door. Finding it unlocked, he arched a brow. Feigning innocence, she shrugged and darted off to check the mailbox.
“Are you hungry, Dad?” She set a glass of ice water on the table beside his chair a few minutes later.
“A little. Wanna stay for lunch, Doc?”
Jackson glanced at her. “Sure, if it’s okay with Serenity.” She could tell he was pleased by the offer. “Can I help?”
“Keep Dad company while I get it ready. I guarantee it won’t be anything fancy.”
“The simpler the better.”
Another five minutes later, she’d pulled everything out of the refrigerator. Ginseng scratched at the side door. “Hang on, Ginseng. I’m coming,” she called. Hearing a chuckle from behind her, Serenity whirled around to face Jackson.
“Great name for quasi-hippie canine parents. Where’s the leash? Your dad’s resting, so I can take Ginseng for a walk if you want.”
She smiled her thanks. “That’d be great.” Grabbing the leash from its hook, she handed it to him. “How’s Freud these days?”
Jackson’s grin grew broader. “Still a sofa hog, but a lovable one. How much time before we eat?”
“Well, I’m heating the soup now and then I need to make the sandwiches. Maybe ten minutes?”
“Sure thing.” By the time Jackson returned, she’d refilled Ginseng’s water and food dishes and put them outside the door.
“We’re ready to eat if you can call Dad to the table.” She eyed the arrangement of Vi’s Violet roses in another Waterford vase inherited from her maternal grandmother. Hopefully, her father wouldn’t turn up his nose at their lunch of lean turkey breast on whole wheat sandwiches and homemade, low-sodium vegetable soup.
Serenity smiled as she heard Clinton insisting he was fine to walk into the kitchen on his own. As they gathered around the small table, Jackson took her hand to ask grace. Her heart sputtered when he reached for her father’s hand. To her surprise, Clinton accepted the gesture without comment or protest. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d seen him bow his head in prayer. Probably at their neighbor’s funeral, but never—ever—in a church. Closing her eyes, Serenity concentrated on Jackson’s prayer.
After fussing over Clinton during the meal, he finally cut her off. “I’m not dead yet. Take it easy on me, girl. It’s not like the surgeon cut me open. I had a little medical procedure, that’s all. Charlie’s had something like it and so have half the men over fifty down at Martha’s Cup & Such on any given morning.” He glanced at Jackson and chuckled. “Not that it’s a reflection of the food at Martha’s since I hear you’re there almost every morning, Doc. Glad you’ve taken to the locals around here and vice versa.”
Serenity paused her spoon halfway to her mouth and lowered it back to her bowl. “I didn’t know Charlie had any trouble.”
Clinton waved his hand. “Not anything major. It was a couple of years ago. He’s fit as a fiddle now.”
“Well, he looks good. I’m sure he wants to be around for Maya,” Serenity said. “Just like I want to keep you around.”
“Glad to hear it.” Her father gave her a rare wink. When he inclined his head toward Jackson and waggled his brows, she continued eating her soup and ignored him.
They enjoyed small talk and Jackson filled them in on the latest developments with the playground renovation while they ate. Her father brightened and laughed a few times. She hadn’t seen him act this relaxed and at ease with someone new in a long time.
“Great soup,” Jackson said when he finished. “I insist on helping you with the dishes.”
“That’ll take all of five minutes, but anything to be close to my pretty daughter, huh, Jackson?”
“You bet. You found me out.” Jackson and her dad shared a look she couldn’t begin to comprehend, like they were members of a private, two-man boys’ club. “Nothing I’d like better.”
She had to admit, working with Jackson beside her in the kitchen was fun. Danny always plopped in front of the television and watched dumb, mindless shows instead of engaging in conversation or showing much interest in her day.
“Jackson, what are your hobbies?” She handed him the last plate to dry. “Assuming you have some.”
“Sure I have hobbies,” he said. “I like to read thrillers and medical mysteries, that type of thing. I stick with Christian fiction now since the mainstream ones have too much...stuff. It really started to bother me.” Unfolding the dish towel after drying the last plate, he laughed. “Ah, the happy, dancing pears.”
The amusement in his voice made Serenity smile. “Don’t start counting pears or you’ll be here the rest of the day.”
With her father dozing comfortably in his bed an hour later, Serenity walked Jackson to the front door. Stepping outside, Jackson raised his face to the sky. “I think we’re going to get a storm soon. You can smell it.”
She smiled. “I don’t know if it’s the ocean air or what, but you’re right. Very astute for a city boy.”
“City boys know about rain,” he said. “Here’s another observation: we need a landscaper for the playground project. I was getting ready to start gathering bids, but I have it on good authority your friend Deidre’s husband has a solid reputation. Why not give him first dibs on the job?”
“Dibs? I haven’t heard that word in ages, but somehow I think you have a plan.”
“Always.” He turned to her. “Your dad had another great suggestion. Let’s have dinner, the four of us—Deidre and Wes, you and me. Call it a working dinner or whatever works for you. We’ll discuss landscaping ideas for the playground. Just so you know it’s not a date. Not really.”
“Let me talk to Deidre and we’ll set something up.”
He appeared mildly surprised. “Don’t forget.”
“I won’t. You have my word.”
“Sit with me in church tomorrow morning?” Jackson’s smile was en
ough reason to say yes.
“Sure,” she said, “as long as Dad doesn’t need me.”
“I already asked him, and he gave his blessing. Said he’d be fine and Deidre’s coming over and bringing lunch. Said she could stay for however long.”
“I can’t tell you how much I appreciate all your help. I don’t know many guys who’d be so nice as to stay all night with a crotchety old man in the hospital.”
He chuckled. “I don’t mean to sound irreverent, but he was asleep most of that time.”
“He likes you.”
“I like him. Listen, there’s a church picnic tomorrow, right after the service,” he said. “Want to go together?”
“As long as my dad’s okay and Deidre can stay, I suppose it’s okay. Would it be all right if I invite my neighbor, Mrs. Marciano, to go with us?”
With a smile she felt to her toes, Jackson tweaked her chin. “More than all right, but there’s one little problem. My car’s only a two-seater.”
“I’ll drive separately then,” she said. “Besides, it’ll make it easier to come back and check on Dad and then go pick her up. I think she’d have fun. Mrs. Marciano spends too much time alone in her house, but from what I can see, she gets around fine. Should I bring a covered dish?”
“Not this time. You have enough to do with your dad, and I’m sure there’ll be more than enough food.”
“If it rains, will they cancel the picnic?” she asked, glancing up at the sky.
“Not sure. I guess we’ll have to wait and see what happens.”
Serenity nodded and walked him to his car parked in the driveway. She leaned back against it, her hands behind her. Jackson mirrored her actions. Thinking better of it, recalling how protective men could be about their cars, she moved away. “Sorry. I shouldn’t lean against such an expensive sports car.”
With a gentle hand on her arm, Jackson guided her back to her original position. “Lean away. I don’t mind. Notice I’m doing it, too. But, I don’t give free leaning rights to just anyone, you know.”
“Thanks.” The fragrance of her mother’s roses wafted to her in the warm afternoon air. “Mama’s roses. Can you smell them?”
Jackson lifted his head and nodded. “Very nice.”
“My mom loved them. They’re called Vi’s Violet. They’re pretty rare. I helped her plant them along the back wall of the house when I was six. They’ve come back every year since then. You can always catch their scent when the breeze blows a certain way. Of course, I can’t help but see the irony of how those rare roses come back even without Mama here to tend to them.”
Jackson appeared momentarily startled.
“Something wrong?”
He shook his head. “No. Sorry. What kind of roses are they?”
“Vi’s Violet. I know, I’d never heard of them either. It’s another thing that makes my mother unique. Cultivating those roses was one of her favorite things.”
Jackson nodded, but he still looked stunned for reasons known only to him. “I imagine your father tends to them or else he hires a gardener.”
She considered his words. “I hadn’t thought about it, but you’re probably right. Dad can be cheap when it comes to certain things, but when it comes to something of Mama’s, he doesn’t want to change anything—from the pillows arranged a certain way on the living room sofa, the bowl full of pears on the kitchen counter or the frayed chair in the family room. If it takes a gardener to keep those roses alive, you’re right. That’s exactly what Dad would do.”
“That’s kind of sweet in its own way, don’t you think?” Jackson said.
“I suppose.” She turned to face him directly. “The flowers in the jar in Dad’s hospital room were Vi’s Violet roses. I can’t imagine who brought them. I’ve never seen them anywhere but at the back of our house.” They’d left them on the nurse’s station.
“Jackson, I wanted to tell you about something Dad said when I was here at the house on Thursday night.” In some ways, it felt like much longer. “At first, I was upset and not thinking clearly. But now, I think it might be pretty significant.”
“Tell me.”
Serenity inhaled another deep breath. “I think Mama’s alive.”
~CHAPTER 18~
“Dad always talks about Mama in present tense,” Serenity said. “I mean, that’s nothing new. He’s done it since she disappeared. At first, I thought it was because he’s still unbearably lonely without her and it’s his subconscious way of keeping her memory alive.”
Jackson nodded. “Could be. It’s a common response to grief, especially in cases of missing persons.” He didn’t seem unduly shocked by her statement. Does he share my belief Mama’s alive?
“I was pretty horrible to him.” She dug her toe into a loose section of pavement on the driveway. Something else to have repaired.
“You couldn’t be horrible if you tried. Please don’t tell me you think that triggered his attack.”
“No, not really. You’re right about that. Dad brought it on himself. But I blasted Mama, and in his eyes, that’s like the cardinal sin. I asked him why he thought she’d left and then accused her of being selfish and leaving when I needed her most.”
“What was his response?”
“He said the sadness was too much handle.” She ran a hand over her brow and smoothed long strands of her hair away from her face. “I don’t know. Something like that. I was impatient and didn’t want to accept that answer. It wasn’t good enough, I guess. Not that he can give me one I’ll accept.” She shrugged and darted a helpless glance at him. “I asked him if he thought she was alive, but he said he didn’t know what to think.”
“Then what makes you think your mom’s alive?”
“I told him how my faith in Christ helped me get through the last few years. I half-expected him to make a joke about faith or organized ‘religion’ like he’s done in the past. I remember him saying Christianity is something for the weak to hang onto when they can’t handle their own lives. Ever since I came back to Croisette Shores, though, he’s been remarkably...non-combative.”
Serenity raised her eyes to Jackson’s. “This is the thing: even though Mama was raised in a church, I can count on one hand the number of times I ever heard her mention God when I was growing up. Before I left the house, Dad made a comment about how I sounded like Mama in always talking about God.”
A new light came into Jackson’s eyes. “I’d say that’s a pretty good indicator he knows something all right. What’s your heart telling you?”
“That she’s alive. And...”
“And...what?”
She swallowed hard. “Maybe Dad knows she’s alive. It makes me absolutely furious to think he might be holding back on me. And sad. And overjoyed to think she might really be out there. She rejected us. Do you know how that feels?”
“Yes, I do,” he said, his voice quiet. “Not in the same way, of course, but pushed out of someone’s life? Yeah, I’ve been there. When you get to be my age, it’s inevitable someone along the way’s stomped on your heart.”
“I’m sorry. How selfish you must think me.” She glanced up at him. “If somebody stomped on your heart, they were sadly misguided.” The tears she’d tried to hold back stung her eyes. “I wonder why—if Mama is alive—where is she and why won’t she come home again?”
When she collapsed against him, Jackson stroked one hand over her hair and whispered words of comfort. What he said, she didn’t know. He was there, and that’s all she needed. “I’m sorry,” she sobbed against his shoulder. “I don’t know what to think, how to feel, anything right now.” Gazing up at him, she bit back another sob. “I’m tired of crying but it seems all I’m capable of doing. Tell me what I’m supposed to feel, what I’m supposed to do, Jackson.”
“I wish I could, but I promise we’ll find your answers. We’ll find your mother.”
Pulling away, Serenity wiped a hand across her damp cheek. “Should I confront Dad? Demand answers?”
; “Not yet. If he does know something, it could be he’s afraid to tell you. Could be he’s afraid of how you’ll react. On the other hand, it’s possible he ‘slipped’ on purpose, hoping you’d pick up on it.”
“Do you think she’s still alive? Tell me your honest opinion, professional or not. Please.” Bunching his T-shirt in both hands, Serenity felt the steady vibration of Jackson’s heartbeat beneath her hands. Life-affirming and strong. The connection between them was intense and she couldn’t let go of him. She looked into his eyes, seeking answers she knew he couldn’t give but reassurance he could give. “You ‘read’ people all the time, so tell me what you believe. I need to know.”
“Yes, baby, I think your mother is alive.”
Releasing her hold on him, Serenity smoothed her hand over the front of his shirt. “You’ll need to change. Sorry I messed you up.” She sniffled and turned the other way. “I’m kind of messed up, but at least you still have a good reputation in this town.”
“No, Serenity, you’re not messed up. If you are, then you’re the best messed up person I know.” Shaking his head, he chuckled. “That didn’t come out right, but believe me, you have it more together than most people I know. There’s a lot of dysfunction in the world, and from people who’ve been through a whole lot less than you.” He tipped her chin and gazed into her eyes. “I think you’re one of the strongest people—man or woman—I know. You’ve also got the love of the Lord in your heart, and, although I didn’t know you before, I sense you’re even stronger now.”
This man sensed so much it scared her. In a weird way, it also comforted her. The deep affection in his eyes awakened parts of her she thought had died right along with Danny. “I think the best thing to do is to see if your dad says anything else that might clue us in that your mom might be alive. Even more important, clues that he might be in touch with her.”
She frowned. “It’ll be hard, but I’ll try. How can someone disappear into thin air?” With a snap of her fingers, she gave him a quizzical look. “Poof! No trace of a life. Just…gone.”