Resolution (A Golden Beach Novel)

by Kim Loraine

  ~ ~ ~

  Hours. It had been hours . . . half a fucking day since Alex had called her. He couldn’t imagine why she wasn’t responding. Feeling sure she’d felt their connection just as strongly as he had, he paced the kitchen, staring at his phone and willing it to ring. He was a breath away from running to Dean’s house and making sure nothing had happened to her. But that would make him seem overbearing, and possibly insane. Still, he couldn’t stop the flashes of fear from lancing his heart. Memories of Roxie hammered at him. She’d been broken and battered in the hospital, her eyes haunted and red, hand resting on her belly even though the baby wasn’t there any longer. All because he couldn’t wait to talk to her.

  Breathing slow and steady, he forced himself to calm his racing thoughts. This wasn’t the same. It couldn’t be. His heart jumped into his throat when, out of the corner of his eye, he saw a police cruiser pull into his driveway.

  No. No. No. Terror clawed at his throat as he rushed down the stairs, pulled open the door, and strode across the lawn toward a grim faced Dean.

  “What is it? What’s happened?”

  Anger flared in Dean’s eyes and without warning, a fist flew at Alex. The pain blossomed across his jaw in an intense burst as the punch landed, knocking him back a few steps. Before he could process what was happening, the man was on him, knocking him to the ground and landing blow after blow to Alex’s stomach.

  “Get the fuck off me,” Alex bellowed, rolling out from under the smaller man and getting to his feet.

  Breathing harshly, Dean stood and stared him down. “What the fuck did you do to her?”

  A sick feeling took hold. “What do you mean?”

  “She’s gone. Did you say something else to hurt her? Something that finally drove her away for good?”

  “No. Things were good. Getting better, actually. We . . . I called her last night and left a message. I wanted to talk about us. Our future.”

  Running a hand across his face, Dean snorted. “Yeah. Well, whatever you said must have scared her off. She left in a fucking hurry. Gone back home. She won’t answer her phone. All I have is a note saying she’s sorry she couldn’t say goodbye. Do you know how much she hates Michigan? Her awful family? She wouldn’t leave unless she felt like she had to.”

  The world stopped as he processed what Dean had said. She felt like she had to leave. To get away from him? Had he pushed too hard too soon?

  “What is their address?”

  Shaking his head, Dean shoved his hands in his pockets and leaned against his car. “No. You need to give her some breathing room. Let me try and talk to her, figure out what happened. You come barreling into her life, into her family, and it’s just going to make her more skittish.”

  Dean’s attitude just pissed Alex off even more. The man came here and sucker punched him in his own front yard. Now he was telling him how to deal with Lauren? “Fuck if I’m going to let you ride in on your white horse and save the day. She doesn’t need a savior, she needs a partner. She needs me.”

  Heaving a sigh, Dean pulled his phone from his pocket. “I’m going to warn you one last time. It’s not going to go over very well if you go right now. Call her, talk it over, if she still won’t come, then go get her.”

  Alex stood firm, waiting for the man to give him the information he needed. After saving her family’s address to his contacts, Alex took a step closer to the police officer in front of him. “Thanks, now get the hell off my property before I file assault charges.”

  As Dean drove away, Alex let the residual pain in his jaw and abdomen take hold. The man was slighter of frame, but he knew how to fight. Walking gingerly into his house, Alex grabbed his laptop and a beer. He had to work a shift tomorrow, but as soon as he could, he’d be on his way to Michigan.

  His cheek throbbed as he opened a web browser, reminding him he needed to ice the injury before it started to swell. Snatching a bag of frozen peas from his freezer, he sat on the couch nursing his beer and rested the cold plastic bag on his jaw.

  As he searched for flights, Dean’s words rang in his head. Give her some breathing room. Was he doing the right thing, heading straight to her without a word? More and more, doubt crept in. Pulling his phone from his pocket, he dialed her number. It rang three times before going to voicemail. He texted her. And waited. Nothing but dead air came as a response. Maybe she didn’t want him. It had all been in his head. The moments shared between them the product of the baby they’d made together.

  Heart aching, he closed his eyes and leaned back on the couch. He’d give her time, but if she wouldn’t give an inch, he’d eventually have to confront her. She might never give him her love, but he would always be in her life. There was no way in hell he’d let her keep his daughter from him.

  Chapter 29

  Shoes squeaking on the tile floor of the hospital lobby, Lauren scanned the area for a familiar face. When she saw no one, she wandered up to the information desk. She wished for the umpteenth time that day that she hadn’t dropped her stupid phone. By the time she’d gotten her luggage, she knew she needed to get straight to her family, which meant no time for a replacement.

  “Can I help you?” A friendly young woman smiled at her over the desk.

  “Yes, my father is here. His name is Alonzo Garcia. Can you tell me what room he’s in?”

  After typing for a few moments, the woman cast sad eyes in Lauren’s direction. “He’s in Oncology. Floor Three. Room Fourteen.”

  Oncology? That meant cancer. Her dad had cancer? Stomach sick, she took long, steady breaths. Numbly, she walked toward the elevator, hoping the well-meaning woman had been mistaken. Maybe he was just visiting someone he knew in Oncology. Her dad wasn’t sick. Not like that. He’d probably eaten too much spicy food and thought he was having a heart attack. But as the elevator doors closed and the car ushered her up the three floors, reality seeped in.

  Heart hammering in her throat, she approached room Fourteen. The soft sounds of muffled sobs and the murmured verses from the Bible in Spanish killed her ears as she pushed past the door. A priest stood over the bed, obscuring her view, and as soon as she caught sight of her sister standing in the corner, she knew. The woman hadn’t been wrong. Not by any stretch of the imagination.

  Her mother sat across from the bed, stoic and silent.

  “Mother?” Lauren’s voice broke on the word.

  Dark eyes, so similar to both Lauren’s and Chassity’s locked on her round belly. “Of course, you got yourself knocked up.” Then focusing her glare on Chassity, she sighed. “Stop blubbering. Why didn’t you tell me your sister ruined her life?”

  Anger ate at Lauren’s resolve, but now wasn’t the time to deal with her dysfunctional relationship with her mother. “What’s wrong with him?” She finally let herself look at the once formidable figure of her handsome father. He was sleeping, a tube down his throat, wires and IVs attached to his chest and arms.

  “He’s dying.” Her mother’s annoyed tone cut through her like a hot knife.

  “How long has he been sick?”

  Shrugging, the insufferable woman stood and grabbed her purse. “Who knows? He didn’t tell me until the divorce was final.” Walking toward the exit, she called over her shoulder. “I’m going home. Lauren, we’ll be discussing the plan for . . . that mistake you’re carrying when you get home.”

  Lauren’s hand instinctively went to her belly. As soon as her mother left the room, she let the tears come.

  “Chassity, what are the doctors saying?” Grabbing her sister’s hand, she let out a surprised huff when Chassity pulled her in for a tight hug without a word.

  “Lo, I’m so glad you’re here.”

  They stood together, locked in an embrace until the nurse came in.

  “I saw you come in. Are you his other daughter, Lauren?” Her face
was soft, like one of the angels in a da Vinci painting.

  Nodding, Lauren glanced back at her father. “What’s his prognosis? How long does he have?”

  The nurse’s eyes widened, then turned sorrowful. “Your father has very advanced pancreatic cancer. He’s here under comfort care now. We’re keeping him sedated and giving him something for the pain, but he’s not breathing on his own, and his organs are shutting down.” A frown creases her brow. “Did no one tell you about this earlier?”

  Lauren bit her lip as she shook her head. Chassity linked their hands before speaking. “Our mother didn’t want to talk about it. I think she’s still angry.”

  The woman slowly nodded, as if in understanding. “Lauren, your father gave you power of attorney in the case of medical decisions. We’ve been unable to turn off the ventilator because we need you to sign the paperwork.”

  Nausea clawed at her throat. “You . . . you mean I have to . . . to kill him? But what if he gets better?”

  “Not kill him. Let him go. I’m sorry, but he won’t get better.”

  Feeling dizzy, she let herself sink into the chair behind her. “I can’t . . . can’t make that kind of decision. Why would he do this? Why doesn’t Mother have to do this?”

  The nurse spoke over Lauren’s head, directing her conversation at Chassity. “I’ll give you two some privacy. Social services and Doctor Clark will be coming in to talk to you later.”

  Turning her gaze up to her little sister, Lauren let out a shuddering sob. “Why do I have to be the one?”

  Chassity’s lower lip trembled. “He probably didn’t want Mother to have the last word. Honestly, I don’t blame him. She’d probably make him suffer until the very last possible second.”

  “I can’t make this decision. Someone else needs to.”

  Heaving a heavy sigh, her sister pulled another chair across the room. “You don’t have to do it alone. I’ll be here with you. Maybe after you talk to the doctor you’ll feel better about it. I think it’s been pretty awful for him for a long time.”

  “Why didn’t he tell us?”

  Shrugging, Chassity shook her head. “You know him. He never wanted to seem weak. He spent his life trying to make people think he was immortal. I hadn’t seen him in probably six months, and then Mother called me telling me he was in the hospital. The last time we spoke, I told him to get out of my life.” A fat tear rolled down her cheek. “Can you believe it? The last thing I’ll ever get to say to my father is get out of my fucking life?”

  “He called me on your birthday this year. I think he forgot which of us he needed to call,” Lauren admitted with an incredulous laugh. “God, we’ve got some seriously messed up parents.”

  “Yeah, we hit the fucked-up-parent payload.”

  Uncontrollable laughter bubbled up in Lauren’s chest, and before she could stop herself the room filled with giggles. Chassity joined her, both of them laughing until their sides hurt and their cheeks ached.

  Sighing, Lauren calmed herself and leaned back in her chair, one hand absently rubbing her belly.

  “Lo?”

  “Yeah, Chas?”

  “I know I don’t say it much, but I really love you.”

  A sad smile turned up Lauren’s mouth. “I really love you, too, little sister.”

  ~ ~ ~

  Alex scowled down at his phone. Two days. He’d been calling Lauren for two days and she still wouldn’t answer. Now his calls were automatically sent to voicemail without even being given the chance to ring through. Either she’d turned the thing off, or blocked him. God, he hoped she hadn’t done the latter.

  Every hour that passed without word from her made him antsy. He’d been one click away from purchasing a plane ticket at least ten times, but Dean’s warning continued to ring in his head. If she was staying silent, it was for a reason. Glancing at the clock, he rolled his shoulders and sighed. It was Friday, family dinner night, and because it was his birthday, he was the guest of honor this week. He had to leave in ten minutes if he was going to arrive on time, but damn it, all he wanted to do was focus on Lauren. Dialing her number again, he waited with a shred of hope in his heart as the phone started to ring.

  “Alex?” Her voice cascaded over him, a rush of relief, warmth, need covering his body like a salve.

  “Jesus, Lauren. Are you okay?”

  A heavy sigh fell from her. “No. I’m not.”

  In just three words his entire world changed. “What’s wrong? Is it the baby?”

  “The baby’s fine. I . . . there’s so much going on over here.”

  “Whatever I said, or did, that made you leave . . . I’m so fucking sorry. I didn’t want to scare you off. I just need you to know how much I want us to be . . . us. I’ve never been a patient person, and waiting for you will be the hardest thing I’ve ever done. But Lauren, I’ll wait. I’ll wait until our kid goes to college if that’s what you want. I just need you to tell me I should.”

  “Alex. I can’t talk about this now.”

  “You can. But you won’t.” He hated the anger in his tone, but he’d just poured his heart out at her feet. The least she could do was acknowledge it.

  “God. Not everything on this earth is about you or us. Can you please just let me have some time to deal with the absolutely shitty situation I’m in over here? Fuck!”

  He went silent at the venom in her voice. She’d just chewed him out and cursed like a sailor while doing it. Frowning, he walked to his front door and headed for his truck.

  “Okay. Look, I’m sorry I bothered you. But you left without a word and I thought things were getting better between us. I was worried about you and the baby.”

  He heard her take in a shuddering breath. “I know. I’m sorry.” Murmured voices carried through the line and she cleared her throat. “I have to go.”

  “Lauren, are . . . when are you coming back?” The way his voice rasped over the question betrayed the fear in his heart.

  “I’m not sure.”

  She hung up before he could say anything else.

  “Happy fucking birthday, to me.” Raking his hand through his hair, he worked to calm himself down. Deep, steady breaths usually worked against the rising panic, but even as he tried to slow the racing of his heart, his mind went back to her. “Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!” He kicked his truck with every word, leaving a dent in the side by the time he was done.

  He sat with his hands on the steering wheel for a solid five minutes as he tried to process what she’d said. She wasn’t sure when she’d be back, but she hadn’t said she wasn’t coming back at all. Clearly something was happening in Michigan, something serious enough to make her snap, but without more from her, he couldn’t offer any help.

  Starting his truck, he headed toward the family gathering in his honor. Only Michael and Lena knew about the baby, and he hoped his brother hadn’t spilled the details to his parents. They’d already lost a daughter-in-law, a son, and an unborn grandchild. They didn’t need anything else to worry about. He’d tell them when he had good news to share.

  The house was lit from top to bottom, all the windows filled with the warm glow of burning lights. Mitchell clearly had yet to learn how much his Grandfather complained about the electricity bill. Alex remembered the constant lectures about wasting energy, turning off each light when they weren’t using them, and his favorite, “I’m going to start taking a portion of the power bill out of your allowance, young man.”

  He braced himself for the onslaught of smiles, hugs, and the inevitable questions from his brother. As he predicted, his boisterous family was laughing and joyful when he walked through the door.

  “Alex!” His mom smiled and rushed up to greet him, pulling him in for a fierce embrace. “Twenty-six hours of labor and that’s the kind of hug you give your mother on the anniversar
y of the most painful moment of my life?”

  He couldn’t stop his laughter. “Sorry, Mama.” Wrapping his arms around her, he held her close and kissed her cheek.

  “Happy birthday, honey.”

  Releasing her, he followed her into the house, pasting a smile on his face for the rest of his family. After a round of birthday greetings, he grabbed a beer and headed out to the beach with Michael following close behind him.

  They sat together by the shore drinking and not talking. Alex knew he had to say something before Michael pushed.

  “Lauren left. She’s not sure if she’ll come back. I don’t know what’s going on, but she’s not herself.”

  “Fuck, man. I’m sorry.”

  Shaking his head, Alex polished off the rest of his beer. “It is what it is. At this point, I’ve got to leave it up to her.”

  “Boys! Dinner’s ready.” Their father’s booming voice called their attention away from the surf.

  “Come on. If we let the ribs get cold Mama’s going to be pissed.” Alex stood and dusted the sand off his jeans.

  “Damn, I love your birthday. Mama makes the best ribs. For some reason she thinks my favorite meal is spaghetti.” He shudders. “I hate spaghetti. Do you know how many times I’ve had to choke down Klipper’s sad excuse for marinara?”

  Letting out a chuckle, Alex led the way, following the enticing scent of barbecue sauce and grilled meat. This is what he needed. A day surrounded by people who loved him unconditionally.

  After loading up his plate, Alex glanced around the table, his eyes settling on Mitchell. The boy was pushing his broccoli around with his fork and frowning.

  “Hey, Mitch. How’s first grade treating you?”

  “It’s okay.”

  Michael cleared his throat. “Mitch is nursing a broken heart.”

  “What? You’re not old enough for that.” Alex fought the urge to chuckle.