by Lilian Darcy
John, I can move your car for you if youll give me the keys, he offered as John frowned over insurance details.
The other man looked up and his vision cleared. Thanks. That would be great. There was an awkward pause while they stared at each other. Look, its none of my business what happens between you and Stacey, John began.
It is your business, Jake answered. Youre Max and Ellas father. Its always going to be your business. And believe me, the question of what I owe to their well-being is not something Im going to overlook, whatever happens.
John nodded. Yeah, good, because Ill personally rip your guts out with my fingernails if you damage them in any way.
Jake nodded, too. Right back at you, John.
Good. So were clear?
Yep. Looks that way.
Wont be necessary, I hope. The guts thing.
Not in my plan, for sure.
Good.
Right.
They punched each other on the upper arm in a half friendly, half threatening way and strangely enough it felt all rightgood enough for them to both break into a slightly shamefaced grin as they realized that theyd shared exactly the same violent Neanderthal fantasies about what theyd like to do to each other in defense of Stacey and everything that was important to her.
You love her, John said.
But I dont know what to do about it.
No. Thats always the tough part.
Jake sighed. Give me your keys and Ill move the car.
When he arrived back in the E.R. waiting room, John had left the admissions desk and gone through. Jake flashed his hospital ID to a nurse who didnt know him and she pressed the door release. Max and Ella Deroy? he asked.
She checked her computer screen. Beds three and four in the pediatric room.
He strode down the corridor. In the doorway, he stopped. You could have painted the scene, a harmonious composition of white hospital sheets, gleaming silver machinery, warm flesh tones and just a few splashes of bright color. John sat hunched in a chair, reading Ella a storybook with a red-and-yellow cover. Stacey leaned toward Max and brushed the hair back from his forehead, her indigo sweater the richest color in the room.
No one had seen Jake yet, which meant he could stay like this, watching his own control unravel like a badly knitted sleeve.
Where could he possibly fit into the picture? To an outsiders eye it was already complete. Two loving parents and two adorable kids. He knew better. Hed seen nothing in John and Staceys dealings with each other to suggest that their marriage could ever rekindle. Still, it took courage to take on the complexity of a second marriage and a blended family.
You deserve more, Stace, he muttered under his breath. You dont deserve my doubts, and this fear that churns me up inside.
Across the corridor, he heard an alarm sound, followed by a flurry of activity. A woman was crying. A doctor yelled for a nurse. Two more doctors strode past, and he heard one say to the other, Whos going to tell the family?
Professionally, Jake could handle anything his work threw at him. Personally, he was still running scared, and Stacey deserved so much more than what he could give. He came so close to simply walking out without even catching her eyehe could leave Johns keys and a brief verbal message with a nursebut then he felt a powerful surge of disgust at himself and knew he couldnt do that. Hed at least tell Stacey that he was leaving. Taking a strong, steady breath, he went into the room.
Here are the keys, John, he said. The cars in the first visitor lot, second row. The lot should start to empty out soon. It wont be hard for you to find.
Thanks, Jake.
Stacey, Im going to head out of here.
She looked up, taking a second or two to focus on his face. She frowned. Okay.
He almost launched into an explanation about how he didnt belong and didnt want to intrude, but then realized that this in itself would be an intrusion. Their fractured relationship was the last thing on her mind, right now. When he looked back at her from the doorway, she was stroking Maxs hair again.
Outside, the winter darkness had fallen thickly and the air was cold and fresh. It had to be after six by now. He left the hospital and knew he couldnt go home. He headed for his parents house, hoping his father would be there.
He got on well with his stepmother, Abigail. At forty-four, she was only nine years older than he was. His younger stepsisters were good kids, also. Well, not kids anymore. Suzie was twenty-two and still in college, and Janet was twenty-four.
But it was Dad he needed to see.
Suzie met him at the door, carelessly forking lasagne into her mouth. Moms been cooking comfort food, Italian-style, and Im getting a head start on it. Is that why youre here?
No, Im hoping Dads around.
He is. Somewhere. In his study? But have some lasagne anyhow.
Maybe later, when were actually supposed to be eating.
Might not be any left by then. Ill tell Mom youre here.
Ill be with Dad.
See you in a bit. She disappeared in the direction of the kitchen, while he headed for the study, where copies of Dads books and articles held pride of place amid a clutter of research materials that the man somehow never had time to file away.
He found his father checking e-mail with the lights still not turned on because, as often happened, darkness had crept up on him without him noticing. Let me help you actually see your keyboard, Dad, he drawled as he flicked a couple of switches, and Lawrence Logan blinked and laughed.
JakeYou know, I still get people writing to thank me for the books, after all these years. Ive been trying to reply to this one. He pointed to some text on the screen. Shes had a rough time, from what she says. He stood and engulfed his number two son in a rough bear hug.
Im not surprised that you still get letters and e-mails. Some of those self-help manuals go out of fashion pretty fast, but yours have staying power. They werent about gimmicks. They cut to the heart.
Too much to the heart, sometimes.
Youre talking about Uncle Terrence.
It was a pretty humbling lesson for me, Jake, although hes never believed me when Ive tried to tell him so. I shouldnt have included his family as a case study, even with the details from several other families mixed in to disguise it and take it in a different direction. I should have realized it wasnt the way to show him how much hed hurt Lisanne and me.
You mean the way he rebuffed you when Robbie was kidnapped?
We tried so hard to reach out, to help them in their search for Robbie, but no matter what we did, he interpreted everything as my saying, I told you so, because of the way Id questioned his priorities.
Hed questioned yours, too, hadnt he?
We never saw eye to eye, even as kids. I thought a missing child should transcend our differences. He didnt. The timing of both my books was bad, from his and Leslies perspective. When The Most Important Thing came out, they had a false lead on his whereabouts that same month. While my book was selling its way up the charts, they were chasing a mirage, with their hearts freshly bleeding. Your mother and I tried to reach out. Again. And again we got the door shut in our faces. And the first week that Hardest to Forgive hit the New York Times Bestseller List, your brother had just gotten his drivers license and brought his first serious girlfriend home to meet us.
He and Robbie are almost the same age, Jake realized. I guess they kept thinking Robbie should be with them, reaching those same milestones. Dad, it sounds as if youd still like to heal the breach. Have Scott or Ryan talked to you about any of this lately?
You mean your cousin Jillians good intentions? A sour tone entered his voice.
Yes. You heard about the potluck dinner? Ive been wanting to discuss it with you.
Heard about it. Wouldnt have wanted to be there, thanks very much. I heard things were said about locker room cruelty, and how the younger generation suffered, also, because of what I wrote.
They did suffer, Dad. You should have taken more care to disguise the details
.
I thought I had. Those were composite, fictionalized cases. I didnt lift my brother and his kids wholesale and put them in my books. To the extent that I did use them, Ive apologized for it over and over again. Or Ive tried to. And Im tired of it now.
They saw themselves in those cases.
They were wrong. I had an argument to make. I had hundreds of cases to draw on. I drew details from so many different sources, no one could truthfully say that Id plucked them out of life and put them on a page. People always think that way about writers, whether its fiction or psychology. You put me in your book, they say. I did not do anything of the kind. People dont have the slightest clue how the process works.
Suddenly, he sounded like an old man, and Jake felt a pang of concern. He looked pale, his hair had more salt than pepper in it now, and he was leaning on his cluttered desk as if exhausted or in pain. Did Dad have health problems he wasnt talking about?
Maybe I should confront Abigail and demand some answers, Jake thought, because this doesnt seem right.
Dad, are you okay? He put his hand on his fathers shoulder.
Im fine.
Sit!
I will if you will. He returned, moving slowly, to the high-backed swivel chair at his desk, while Jake took a pile of file folders from the seat of a leather armchair and sat there. Regrets tire a person out, his father continued after a moment, still speaking fretfully. Theyre so unfinished.
So you do have regrets about the books?
Of course I do! If my brother would only talk to me about it, we could heal this, but I cant see that its ever going to happen, despite what Jillian is trying to do, and its unfinished, and its like my damned arthritis. It aches worse when the weathers bad. I thought we might have another chance three years ago, after they found Robbie, butHow is Robbie? He suddenly asked.
Hes good. Hes great. From what Ive seen. Weve run into each other at the hospital a couple of times. His wife is a really nice woman.
Jake remembered Nancy expressing a vague feeling of concern at the potluck dinner. Shed watched her husband a little too closely, not with a newlyweds pleasure but with an aura of anxiety and foreboding. He hadnt felt he knew her well enough to ask her about it, and he didnt want to add to his fathers dark mood by mentioning it now, but he wondered what it was that she feared.
He said instead, quite abruptly, Dad, what kind of regrets do you think haunt people the most, in your experience? Regret for the things they didnt do, or for the things they did?
His father laughed. His color looked better now, thank goodness. If you mean, Im sorry I didnt kill my wife, versus, Im sorry I did, people tend to voice the second statement far more often. But if youre talking more about Im sorry I didnt go to college
Yeah, things like that.
Most people regret their own lack of courage more than they ever regret an act of bravery that didnt pan out. He looked sharply at Jake, and Jake decided the man wasnt anywhere near getting old and frail, he was sharp as a damned tack. Were talking about you, here, arent we?
Hell, Im that transparent?
Not often.
So why now?
Because its obviously important, whatever it is.
I need to spill it, in that case, dont I?
Since I think its why you came Dad suggested gently.
Okay, Dad.
Right again.
Fifteen minutes later, Jake finished his tale. and I think its gotten worse over the years, not better. I mean, the grief has eased. She was so little, Dad, its hard to imagine thethe woman shed be by now. Anna, our tiny little baby, as a grown woman. He shook his head. See? I cant picture it. But the fear of the griefof ever going through it again, of letting Stacey down, of being locked together, the two of us, by misery and loss instead of joined by happiness
So youll be happy and free of grief and loss and fear if you walk away?
Hell, no!
So youre stuck, arent you? Potentially miserable with Stacey, or potentially miserable without her. I know which option Id go for.
I cant.
You keep saying that. Its a self-fulfilling prophecy, if ever I heard one. You love her, dont you?
Its like an incurable disease.
Stop thinking like a damned doctor, and start thinking like a human being. You only get one life, Jake. Live it. Sprint headlong toward it without a safety helmet, dive over the edge and experience the rush.
Ive told you. John did that. He rushed in, pushed both of them into something that was wrong, made promises he couldnt keep. She deserves better.
Youre not like John.
Youve met the man?
Youre not like anyone, Jake. Youre you. And Stacey loves you. Its lasted more than seventeen years with little encouragement. You have to go back to that hospital, Jake, and you know it. You have to walk in to the Pediatric Unit with the right expression on your face and the right feeling in your heart even if every muscle in your body is screaming for you to run away, even if you think youre going to yell at the staff or throw up or cry or all three things at once, and you have to tell Stacey that you love her and youre there. Permanently.
I
I cant.
He pressed his hands over his face and his closed eyes, still lost.
Because from what youve said, his father went on ruthlessly, if you dont do it today, you might not get another chance. Do you think no one else is scared about these things? You somehow think that the fear you gave in to seventeen years agowhen you were not much more than a boyis unique to you, a fatal flaw in your character that disqualifies you from ever trying again.
Jake took his hands away and lifted his head. His whole body tingled and every hair stood on end. The words struck a chord.
Yes, of course he thought that! Wouldnt anybody?
His father looked at him. It doesnt! Theres a quote He swiveled around at his desk and began scrabbling through a pile of files.
Dont give me a quote, Dad, Jake groaned. His throat felt tight as a vise and his eyes stung.
I have it right here, somewhere.
Could you maybe remember it? His voice came out scratchy, cynical and tired. From your head? Even if its not word for word?
Here it is. I knew I had it. He read proudly, The brave man is not he who feels no fear, For that were stupid and irrational; But he, whose noble soul its fear subdues, And bravely dares the danger nature shrinks from. Joanna Baillie, Scottish poet, from the play
Thank you, Dad.
You can have the printout.
Thanks, again.
Son He stood, pulled Jake to his feet with a strength he shouldnt still have, and hugged him. Stop thinking. Just do what your heart wants, and youll find youre ready for it. Have faith.
Stacey said that. His voice was muffled by the shoulder of his fathers sweater.
Staceys right. He let Jake go. Is that lasagne I can smell?
Just the remnants, possibly. For a skinny girl, Suzie seemed pretty hungry when I got here.
You staying to eat?
No. Im not.
Going back to the hospital?
Jake sighed. II dont know.
Chapter Fourteen
G o, John, seriously, its fine.
I wouldnt, if
I know you wouldnt head back to Olympia if there was any real concern. And I know your meeting tomorrow is important. Stacey repeated what they both had been told. The strep throat swab came back negative, and they dont think this is meningitis, either, because his condition has stabilized now instead of getting worse. We just have to wait for a doctor to see them and sign their discharge paperwork, but the staff are pretty busy, and the twins are comfortable.
I think Ellas drifting off, now, John said. Max was already sleeping.
It may take a while, but theres no need for you to wait.
Okay, then. Thanks. Ill call you when I get in, okay? He gave her a swift kiss on the temple and left, and she let out a gust of breath as he disappeared.
She car
ed about himand always wouldbut she felt so much more like herself when he wasnt around, so much more grounded. They drained each others energy, and could manage to give so little in return. The twins had been their best gift to each other in the end.
She checked them.
Yes, Ella was asleep, finallythe medication had brought her fever down, and Maxs, too.
Stacey realized vaguely that she was hungry. It must be after eight oclock in the evening, but she didnt want to leave the twins so her stomach would have to wait. For hours, probably. Even if the discharge formalities happened quickly, she still had to drive home, get the twins settled for the night. Not that theyd sleep through when they were sick. She would be up every couple of hours, probably.
Her tired mind suddenly circled back to the subject of driving home, and she realized she didnt have a car. Shed driven here with John, and now hed gone, taking his set of car seats with him. Shed have to take a cab and check when she ordered it that it had toddler seats available.
Which would be easy enough and shouldnt feel like the last straw on the camels back of this difficult weekend, but somehow it did.
Jake should be here.
No matter what hed said about impossible faith and promises, no matter how hopeless their future seemed, he should be here.
The ache of emotional hunger and emptiness inside her was far worse than the ache in her empty stomach. She wanted his body to lean against, his voice reassuring her or distracting her with humor, his SUV with Max and Ellas car seats still strapped in the back from Friday night because both of them had totally forgotten to get them out.
She just wanted him, the way she always had.
But hed felt out of placeor he just hadnt wanted to be hereand so hed gone, and she didnt know if he planned to come back.
She closed her eyes, knowing shed just have to live through the next few hours heartbeat by heartbeat, ignoring any needs of her own, focused only on her children. She could do it. Shed done it before. The rewards came at other times, in other ways, and were worth all of this.
Several minutes went by.
Her neck ached and her back stiffened on the uncomfortable plastic hospital chair. Max whimpered in his sleep, then settled again. She wished she could turn the lights down lower, but Max and Ella had been kept here in the open pediatric room where the patients in four other beds needed the bright light when staff came to work over them.