by JoAnn Durgin
“What happened to Sean? Where is he now?”
“He’s had several reconstructive surgeries on the right side of his face and he’ll never walk again without a serious limp, but he’s home in Tennessee with his wife and kids. He’s alive. I talked to him last week. He’s doing well and owns an express delivery company in Nashville.” Jackson stared straight ahead and blew out another sigh. “Remember that napkin I told you about? The one where Gus laid out the plan of salvation?” He waited until she nodded before continuing.
“Believe it or not, I still have it to remind me how low I’d sunk and how Christ lifted me up from the literal muck and mire of my sin.” He rubbed his fingers over his chin. “There’s something about lying face down in the mud with a 200-pound linebacker on top of you to make you face your spiritual condition. Then sprawled on the ground and watching your commanding officers almost bleed to death, grown men screaming for help, that makes you realize how small and helpless you are in the universe. And makes you realize something else.” Shifting his body, Jackson turned toward her.
“What’s that?” She’d never been more aware of him.
“How important it is to have someone in your life to care about and that hopefully cares about you.” Warm chocolate eyes melted into hers, then swept down to her lips. As Serenity sank onto the ground beside him again, Jackson leaned over her, all six-foot-three of masculinity affecting her in untold ways as his face hovered inches away from her and the air slowly drained from her lungs. She couldn’t breathe but didn’t care. His smile—slow and easy—inched its way further into her heart, softening and opening it even more. With the softest touch imaginable, Jackson brushed his thumb across her lower lip. “Pretend I’m smearing dirt there, beautiful pretty. And if I did that, care to guess what I’d do next?”
Cupping his face between her palms again, Serenity drew him close and planted a sweet, soft, lingering kiss on his lips. “Something like that?” she whispered, her own voice raspy.
“Exactly.”
~CHAPTER 32~
Mrs. Johnson and Justin stopped by unexpectedly on Wednesday morning and asked if Jackson could meet with them. What a pleasant surprise. Must be a God thing, especially since he’d met with them the day before and his schedule was free. Maybe she, too, was finally growing anxious and wanted to move this process along at a faster pace.
“Justin, what’s your favorite fruit?”
“Bananas. I like to eat them with peanut butter. On bread. Like a sandwich.”
Jackson tried not to stare. Hadn’t Serenity mentioned liking peanut butter and banana sandwiches, too? His pulse raced at an almost uncontrollable level and he could feel the sweat already beading on his brow. Clearing his throat, he dug deep to find his voice. “Why don’t we ask your grandmother about her favorite fruit?”
Even with the glasses, the set of Mrs. Johnson’s jaw and the firm line of her lips conveyed she wasn’t happy with the current line of questioning. “I hardly see why that matters.”
“Nana likes pears,” Justin said, giggling. “She says they make her happy.”
Jackson reeled back in his chair as though he’d been slapped. Surely his cheeks burned as though he’d been physically struck. Lord, is it possible? How can it be? Too many things were adding up now. “Is that right?” He wasn’t sure how he choked out the question, but never in his life had he struggled so hard to maintain his calm and sense of decorum. Certainly nothing in his training could have prepared him for the growing suspicions forming in his mind. The similarities between what he knew of Elise McClaren and Violet Johnson, and what they’d said about Justin’s mother in comparison to what he knew of Serenity, were uncanny. No way could every one of them be explained as coincidence. Jackson moved his gaze to Mrs. Johnson. Everything in him wanted to blast her with questions and demand answers. The muscles in his jaws flexed so hard he thought surely they’d snap.
He forced another question. Anything to keep the conversation flowing. “Why don’t we talk more about your mommy today, Justin. Is that okay with you?”
“Yep.” The boy started swinging his legs.
From the corner of his eye, Jackson noticed Mrs. Johnson reaching for a tissue and dabbing at her eyes from beneath the sunglasses. He’d started conjuring ideas about how to get them off the woman, but so far he’d come up with no viable plan. “Once you meet her, what kinds of things do you want to do with her?”
Justin pondered the question, the only sound the ticking of the wall clock. “I hope she can teach me to ride a bike, and read Dr. Seuss with me. I’d really like to get a puppy.” He darted a glance at Mrs. Johnson. “Do you think she’ll let me have a puppy?”
“We’ll have to ask her, and make sure you’re not allergic since you’ve never had a pet before.”
Justin scrunched his nose and cocked his head to one side. “What’s lergic mean?”
“It means something you eat—or something you’re around—makes you sneeze or break out in hives. Your throat might feel scratchy. Like from the inside out,” Jackson said. “What else would you like to do with your mommy?”
“Maybe she can buy me a backpack and walk me to school. Or I can ride a bus like the big kids.”
“You’d like that, huh?” Jackson smiled.
The mop of curls bounced as Justin nodded in an exaggerated manner. “I think so. Never done it before.” He frowned for only a second before brightening, his ready smile never far away. “She can make me peanut butter and banana sandwiches to take to school for lunch.”
“A lot of schools won’t let you take peanut butter to school, honey.”
“Why not?”
Jackson cleared his throat. “It has something to do with that lergic thing. A lot of kids can’t eat peanut butter or be around it.”
Crossing his arms over his chest, Justin shook his head and slumped against the back of the chair. “Then she can make them for me to eat at home. Can I take my gummi worms to school? Are people lergic to gummis?”
Both Jackson and Mrs. Johnson smiled. “I don’t think so,” he assured him.
“I made a card for my mommy.” When he darted a glance at Mrs. Johnson, she reached into the outside pocket of her purse and pulled out a bright yellow piece of folded construction paper. When Justin bounded out of his chair, she handed it to him.
It was difficult to maintain his composure as Jackson studied the drawing of a small boy with curly hair walking beside a taller figure, a woman by the high heels and long hair. He’d drawn a large, red heart on the woman and drawn a line from her heart to the general area of the child’s heart.
“What does this mean?” Turning the card around, Jackson held up the card and pointed to the line connecting the two figures.
“My mommy and me are connected.”
Jackson swallowed hard. “Do you feel connected to your mommy now, Justin?”
The brown eyes grew wider and he looked over at his grandmother. She nodded. “It’s okay. Tell Dr. Ross how you feel. He’s here to help you.”
Justin kicked his legs back and forth again and rubbed his hands up and down the arms of the chair. Finally, he shrugged. “I don’t know.”
Jackson smiled to reassure him. “That’s a very honest answer and I’m glad you told me how you feel. I know you might not understand some things until you meet your mother.” He glanced at Mrs. Johnson.
She shook her head. “Not yet. Soon.” Something about her slight smile struck him as familiar. Serenity familiar. His pulse pounded, his head throbbed.
Jackson nodded, forcing another smile. Justin saved him for the moment. “Maybe you can go with me when I meet my mommy, Doc Jack. You can tell her how we’re connected.”
Mrs. Johnson spoke up. “I think she’ll know, Justin.”
He stopped swinging his legs and looked over at her, his brows raised. “How?”
“She’ll know.” Curling her fist, she placed it over her chest. “In here. A mommy always knows her child.” Judging by the unusual an
d unexpected emotion in her shaky voice, and the tautness of her drawn lips, Jackson wondered if tears might be in those eyes hidden from his view. Sure enough, she raised the tissue and dabbed behind those infernal glasses.
“I’ll take my gummi worms when I meet her. Do you think she’ll like that?”
Jackson swallowed hard. “I think she’ll love them, especially because they came from you.”
Uncrossing her legs, Mrs. Johnson rose to her feet. “Justin, we should leave now.”
Had the woman read his thoughts? He wasn’t very good at masking his emotions. As it was, saying good night to Serenity the night before had been tortuous enough. So, like the coward he was, he’d taken off before he either told her everything he’d discovered or kissed her until the morning. That kiss under the tree on the church grounds, of all places, had been incredible. But like a greedy man, he’d wanted more. Craved more. But he didn’t take more, neither did she offer. And it was enough. For now.
Still, it would be increasingly difficult to be around Serenity and not want to take her in his arms. Surely she knew how he felt. To his detriment, he’d always been obvious with his feelings for a woman. Finding her answers and then figuring out how to tell her without jeopardizing his practice was the best way to meet that goal.
Focus. “You still have ten minutes left in your session,” Jackson said, keeping his tone as even as possible. As it was, Justin eyed him. The boy was smart and missed very little. Revealing he was upset in front of the child wasn’t good.
“Justin, you have a birthday coming up soon, don’t you?” They’d talked about it during the last session.
That brought back the child’s easy smile and he nodded. “Nana’s taking me to the beach.”
Jackson swallowed. “It’s Friday, isn’t it?”
“Yep. We’ll make sand castles and play in the waves. I’m supposed to meet someone.”
If he knew nothing else, Jackson knew he’d be on the beach on Friday morning.
Serenity’s mother took her to the beach on Friday mornings.
“Come on, honey.” By this time, Mrs. Johnson was already by the door, one hand on the doorknob, ready to take flight. He’d unnerved her. For once, Jackson understood what wanting to jump out of your skin meant.
Justin scrambled down from the chair. “Bye, Doc Jack.”
“Here, take the whole bag of cherry gummis. Call it a birthday present. I trust it’s okay that Justin takes them since he likes the cherry ones so much…Mrs. Johnson?”
She nodded, and it was slow and methodical. He’d love nothing more than to yank those sunglasses away from her face and blast her with questions. If this was Serenity’s mother, was it possible that Justin was Liam? The enormity of it threatened to overwhelm him. At the moment, he couldn’t begin to wrap his head around such a concept. Everything he’d heard about Elise McClaren was positive—how loving she was, how kind, how protective...
“My mommy likes the red ones best, too,” Justin said, pulling one from the bag and slurping it into his mouth. In a way, it was good to see him act like a normal kid enjoying a treat. He giggled and looked up at his grandmother. “Nana told me.”
Without another word, Mrs. Johnson put a hand on her grandson’s shoulder and steered him toward the outer office. The set of her jaw, the lift of her chin and shoulders...the same mannerisms mirrored in Serenity. He’d spent enough time with her to recognize them. Why haven’t I seen this before, Lord?
All the things they’d said about the boy’s mother, every last one of them, added up to a woman fitting Serenity’s description. After this session, he could add the love of banana and peanut butter sandwiches. Combined with the love of that Mozart symphony, the cherry gummi worms, the honeysuckle...everything. He didn’t need to look at any list.
Jackson rose from his chair and quickly crossed the room, reaching the outer office as Justin and his grandmother departed out the front door. “Justin? Who are you supposed to meet at the beach on your birthday?”
Stopping, he gave him a curious glance. “Grandpa.”
A chill ran through him as Jackson lifted his hand in a feeble attempt at a wave.
“She didn’t make another appointment,” Audra said, pausing when she saw his face. “Are you okay, Dr. Ross? You look really pale. Kind of like you just saw a ghost.”
“I think I might have, in a manner of speaking,” Jackson said, half-stumbling back into his office. Closing the door—being careful not to shove it hard although he wanted to slam it in his frustration—he paced back and forth, immensely thankful he was free the rest of the afternoon. Glancing up at the cross behind his desk, Jackson fell to his knees. “Okay, this won’t work,” he said a few seconds later, pushing himself off the floor when his knee throbbed. His appointment with the orthopedic surgeon couldn’t come soon enough. Stumbling to the chair—the one usually occupied by Mrs. Johnson—he dropped into it. With his elbows balanced on his thighs, he buried his head in his hands.
Jackson’s shoulders heaved with the force of his breathing as he dragged his fingers through his hair. Through all the sports practices and games in his life, he’d never hyperventilated, but he was pretty close to it now. Jackson suppressed the groan stirring in the inner core of his being. If Audra weren’t right outside the door, he’d release his frustration full force. Roar like a lion. He couldn’t even put a name to what he was feeling, but the one thing he did know? If ever he needed the Lord beside him, it was now. In this very moment.
Father God, am I right in thinking this woman might be Serenity’s mother? And Justin is Liam, her son? Is that possible? How can it be? Why? Help me find the answers, Lord. I know it could be the key to unlocking the mystery of Serenity’s past and give her what she needs in order to move forward with her life.
As he prayed, the undeniable truth hit him. Even if he discovered the truth and it confirmed his suspicions, he couldn’t tell Serenity. Yet it was his first instinct since he’d met her. He couldn’t deny the truth. Lord, I love her.
When he’d become a psychologist, he’d taken a sacred oath before God and man. Justin was, first and foremost, his patient. And to breach that bond between them would be a violation of his ethics as a Christian and a professional psychologist. Overwhelming helplessness seized him unlike anything he’d ever felt. He prided himself on being a man of truth and honesty, but how could he be around the woman he loved and not tell her what he knew?
Jackson’s shoulders slumped as yet another, equally painful truth, hit him. Once Serenity found out he knew, and that he’d kept it from her, she might hate him or banish him from her life. The thought of that happening slammed hard against his chest, crushing him under the weight of such an unbearable burden. He was in the worst possible situation he could imagine—in love with a woman wounded and torn apart by secrets. And he was a man held prisoner by the truth.
“Oh, Lord,” he said, collapsing in the chair, “what am I supposed to do now?”
~CHAPTER 33~
During the morning meeting with the Town Council, Jackson was inordinately distracted. Of course, Serenity picked up on his mood and asked if everything was okay. He liked how she could “read” him but it also made him wonder how long he’d be able to hide what he knew. The whole situation was repugnant and churned his stomach.
After signing the contracts for the playground, they walked out of Town Hall together and Jackson listened as Serenity told him about the plans for the fall gala to raise additional funds. They’d discussed it a few times and he’d been impressed by how she’d recruited Deidre and some of her well-connected friends. From what she said, a special planning committee was already making plans. While the generous check from the anonymous donor would pay for all the playground equipment, more funds would be needed for the ongoing landscaping and maintenance costs.
“Thank you for making this a reality, Jackson,” Serenity said. “It means a lot to me that you’d do this for my old neighborhood and especially that it’s named for Danny.�
� Her shy smile socked him right in the gut and made him feel like the worst kind of friend for not being straight with her.
Secretly thankful she was busy most of the day, he made a flimsy excuse about needing to get back to his office for an appointment. While true, he hated keeping her at arm’s length. Ah, the sweet irony. The one person he wanted to share something with was the one person on the planet he couldn’t tell. “Call me later?” Serenity said.
The significance of that question was huge since it was the first time she’d ever asked him. He wanted to groan in frustration and all he could manage was, “I’ll be in touch.” Stupid thing to say. A fleeting glimmer of hurt surfaced in her eyes before she nodded. Giving him a small wave, she hurried to her car, leaving him standing on the steps of Town Hall with a dumbfounded expression.
Returning to his office, inspiration seized him. He’d send Serenity a card and ask her to meet him at the beach on Friday morning. After a late morning appointment, he walked to the nearest store selling beach supplies and toys. Coming back into the office a few minutes later, he handed the pink plastic sand pail to Audra, practically begging the woman to see if her daughter, Gina, would gift wrap it for him. After all, his assistant was always singing the praises of the gift boutique Gina owned a few doors down from Inner Serenity.
“Tell her to use the best paper, bow, flowers. Whatever she thinks will make it look elegant and sophisticated,” he said. “Fit for royalty.” When he pulled out a fifty dollar bill and offered it to Audra, he chuckled when he glimpsed the excited spark in her eyes.
“Let me make sure I understand,” she said. “You’re willing to pay a lot of money just to have a plastic sand pail gift-wrapped?”
“Don’t forget the scooper thing,” he said, giving her his best grin.
“I’m sure Gina can make it look real pretty,” Audra said, taking the box from him. “You and Martha Stewart. It’s all in the presentation, huh?”