Heat of the Night (Island Fire Book 2)
Page 17
“The day before he left, I went a little crazy. I was so afraid for him.”
“Did you have a premonition or something?”
Her mother shook her head. “Nothing as concrete as that. Just cold, stark fear. It’d gotten bad enough that I was panicky. And I expressed my fears to your father.”
Her mom’s voice cracked and tears filled her eyes.
“He tried to comfort me and I wouldn’t have any of it. I kept going, building on my fears, making them worse. I started listing all the ways things that could go wrong. Mind you, I didn’t know what kind of assignment he was going on, but that didn’t matter. My imagination was out of control.”
“I can understand that,” Selena said honestly.
“The next day he died.”
A lump the size of Texas lodged in Selena’s throat and she couldn’t say a word.
“And I’ve wondered…” Her mom hesitated, sucking in a shaky breath. “I’ve thought maybe it was because I opened his mind to doubt. I went through scene after scene of ways someone could hurt him. What if that was enough to put the slightest fear, doubt into him? What if I was partly to blame for his state of mind and that’s what got him killed?”
Tears fell freely down Selena’s cheeks and she reached out to hold her mother’s hand. “It wasn’t your fault, Mom.”
“To this day, I don’t know. God knows I’ve spent enough on counseling to sort through it, but how can I ever believe I was blameless? And the guilt—” Her mom’s voice cracked again. “I’m so sorry, Selena. When he died, I could hardly face you and your brother. I felt so responsible. Like every ounce of your pain was my fault. I shut down. It took me years to realize my mistake, to understand what it had done to our family, but by that time, I didn’t know how to get you back. How to repair the damage.”
For several seconds, maybe minutes, Selena couldn’t say anything. Her mother’s pain was so evident, something she hadn’t seen or understood for all these years. Sure, she knew her dad’s death had cut her mom to the quick, just like the rest of them, but…
She couldn’t imagine living with the guilt, justified or not.
Selena squeezed her mother’s hand. “You weren’t responsible for his death, Mom. They’re trained to handle the job, regardless of how scared their family may be.”
Her mom sniffed indelicately. “Maybe. But that doesn’t make me feel any better. It hasn’t, all the hundreds of times I’ve told myself that over the years.”
“Forgive me for being dense, but this is supposed to convince me to marry a firefighter … how?” The words came out accompanied by a laugh that sounded more like a sob. “Have you lost your mind?”
“I lost my mind years ago, honey.” They both smiled at that. “No. My point, somewhere in that twisted story, is that you can’t let your fear rule you. Can’t let it get out of control. It’s normal to feel scared when someone you love is in a dangerous situation, but you absolutely cannot let the what-ifs run your life. Respect the fear but never let it control you.”
Selena stared at her for several seconds. “And how do you do that?”
“I imagine a support network would help. There was a group of FBI wives who got together frequently, and I’m sure a big part of it was to connect with others who went through the same emotions.”
“I don’t remember you going to that.”
“I never did. Stupidly, they weren’t in my social circle, so I didn’t think there was any point.”
If that wasn’t vintage Clara…
“I regret that. Maybe it wouldn’t have changed what happened to your father, but then I would’ve had a support system to help me through it. To help me help you through it.” She reached out and ruffled Selena’s windblown, bed-messed hair. “That’s something I truly regret.”
Selena didn’t know what to say to that. They’d had their differences for as long as she could remember, and suddenly she was seeing her mom in a different light. One with shadows and nuances she’d never imagined. “I wish you would’ve talked to me sooner. No matter how hard it would’ve been. You never gave me the chance to understand.”
Her mom did something then that shook her to the core — she broke down into noisy, indelicate sobs, covering her face with her hands but unable to drown out the sounds of sorrow and regret.
“I’m so sorry,” her mom said when she could finally manage to speak.
“Shh. You were doing the best you could in really horrible circumstances.” Selena found she meant the words. Years of anger melted away as she grasped what her mother had been trying to handle by herself.
Her mom nodded as they wrapped their arms around each other. They stayed like that for several minutes, neither of them speaking. Her mom’s crying gradually slowed.
“So. About Evan … that’s all you’ve got for me? Support groups?” Selena wished for a magic answer. A way to make it possible for her to find happiness.
“I’ve got a little hindsight, as well,” Clara said, straightening and smiling sadly. “It helps to understand that this is who these men are. Their careers are as much a part of them as their hair color and their fundamental beliefs.”
“Probably true.”
“By focusing on the fear, I think we lose sight of that. Become less supportive of them. Maybe even become inclined to try to change them or convince them to do something else.”
“You’re talking about Tom now, right?” Selena said, missing her brother so much at the mention of him that her chest ached. “I can’t count the number of times I’ve tried to talk him into doing something besides the military.”
Her mom nodded. “If he did, it would end up being something just as dangerous, I imagine. Police. Fire department. FBI. You know your brother.”
Selena had never been able to think that much about it, but now that she did, she realized her mother was right. “So that’s why you never show your fear about his military career.”
“Oh, I fear for his life every single day. No mother wants her son to go off to war.”
“I couldn’t understand why you wanted to throw a party for him.”
“Going back into action was important to him. It was either throw a party or go a little more insane from the fear.”
Selena nodded slowly. “Why couldn’t you tell me this at the time?”
“You weren’t exactly listening to me if you’ll recall.”
“Maybe.” Selena crossed her arms stubbornly. “It doesn’t make me feel any better about Tom being over there. Have you heard from him lately?”
“He called a lot at first. Less frequently now. I’m sure he’s in the middle of something.”
Something. That’s what Selena hated. The something could likely get him killed.
“I’m glad we talked,” she said. “I think I understand what you’re trying to tell me but…” She shook her head. “I don’t know. It terrifies me.”
“You’ve got time. The baby isn’t due for several months. It won’t be easy, but you’re a strong woman, Selena.”
Her mom had never paid her such a compliment, and she had to admit she reveled in it. “Thanks, Mom. I don’t feel strong.”
“I hate to see you let love pass you by, honey. Please tell me you’ll try.”
Selena thought about the man she did, in fact, love, about how much she wished their future would work out. She nodded. “I will. I’ll try.”
Chapter Twenty-Two
The tension in the cab of the truck was thick. Selfishly, Evan hoped it was just the usual uneasiness between Selena and her mother, and not something caused by what he’d said the other night on the boat. He wasn’t optimistic, however.
He took the exit to the Harlingen airport and glanced across the cab at Selena. She didn’t even notice him. Instead she stared out the window with a serious look, as if she were trying to work out how to bring about world peace.
Even though she was in such a serious state, looking at her did things to him. Her gorgeous dark hair fell in waves to
her shoulders. She wore minimal makeup, and her lips shone with a clear gloss that smelled of strawberries and vanilla. He longed to see those lips turn up in a smile.
“We’re almost there, then?” Mrs. C-J asked, checking her watch for the twentieth time during the hour trip.
“Five more minutes. We’ll get you there on time,” Evan promised. “Better than your average limo service. Only difference is the size of the backseat.”
Her mother laughed but Selena didn’t.
Evan parked in the short-term lot, and he and Selena got out to accompany her mother inside — and to help carry the luggage.
“You realize,” Evan said as he stacked all the pieces onto a cart inside the door, “that by the time you pay all the extra baggage fees on these, it might be cheaper to buy your own jet?”
He smiled when he said it, still not sure whether Mrs. C-J had a sense of humor. She looked thoughtful and too serious, and he wondered if he’d just blown all the goodwill they’d established on the boat.
“You know, you may be right,” she said. “All these years, I’ve been looking for an excuse to buy a private jet, but my money manager keeps telling me no. This may just be it. Excellent idea, Evan.”
The two of them laughed. Selena forced a smile, shook her head, and rolled her eyes. “Don’t encourage her spendy side.”
They checked her suitcases and walked toward security. Evan did a double take when he noticed Selena’s arm interlocked with her mother’s. He was glad to see it. She needed her mother more than ever right now and in the not-so-distant future, as she became a mom herself.
At the gate, the two women embraced and held on to each other. He leaned against the wall and gave them all the time they needed.
“Don’t forget what we talked about,” Mrs. C-J said to Selena.
“I won’t.” Selena smiled tentatively. “Stuff like that isn’t something you just forget about.” They pulled apart enough to make eye contact. “Thanks for all that, Mom. I understand better where you’re coming from. I’ll try to come home for a weekend sometime soon — if you buy the ticket.”
Both women laughed. “I’ll be happy to.” They hugged again and her mother kissed her cheek. “Keep those what-ifs at bay, you hear me?”
“I’ll try. I don’t know.”
“If you ever need to talk, you call me.”
Selena looked into her eyes, and Evan could tell this was a big moment, suspecting such an offer had never been made before. She finally nodded slowly.
“Love you, Mom.”
“I love you, honey.”
They parted, and Evan tried not to show surprise when Mrs. C-J turned to him, arms outstretched. He hugged her, her expensive perfume filling his nose. “Take care of my girl, will you?” she said so Selena couldn’t hear.
“With pleasure, ma’am.”
“What’s this ‘ma’am’ nonsense?” she said, acting scandalized.
They both grinned.
“I tried to talk some sense into her,” she said. “She’s stubborn, but I hope she’ll come around soon. It would please me to no end if the two of you could make it work.”
Evan glanced at Selena, who watched them from a few feet away. “Me too. Have a safe flight, Mrs. C-J.”
He moved closer to Selena as they watched her mom go through security. When she’d made it through and put her high-dollar high heels back on, she waved, picked up her carry-on, and hurried to her gate. Selena leaned her head on his shoulder, and they continued to watch until the older woman was out of sight.
He took her hand and they walked back the way they’d come. “Good visit?” he asked.
Selena didn’t answer right away. “I think so. We talked more than we ever have. Resolved some things. She called the bank on the spot yesterday and gave me back access to the family account.”
Evan slowed, not really surprised but curious. “So what are you going to do?”
“About?”
“Money. Jobs. Are you going to quit?”
“I have an agreement with the city. Don’t worry — I’m not going to flake.”
That had crossed his mind, but it wasn’t his main concern. “What about the other stuff?”
“SJ Enterprises?”
He nodded, for some reason caring too much about her response.
“I could quit.”
“I’m sure your mom will provide you with more than enough money to live on.”
“She will. The amount she said she’d transfer to my joint account each month would cover living expenses easily.”
Evan thought hard about what life would be like if he and Selena married and she continued to get a check from home each month. Could he live with that? Would he be okay with a wife who didn’t believe in working for what she had?
He glanced down at her dark hair, and a warmth came over him that he couldn’t explain. Not the heat of lust, though that was always there, simmering under the surface. Just looking at Selena brought him a feeling of wholeness he’d never known existed. She made him laugh, made him want to pull his hair out, made him want to be the best person he could be. Made him want to be a father, even. Together, he believed they could raise a happy family, whether Selena had a paying job or not.
She didn’t ask for his approval though, and giving it might seem too much like pressure for her to marry him. He’d promised himself to ease up and give her time, because nothing could convince her to say yes right now. She had to grow to love him and trust him to do everything in his power to come home alive at the end of every shift.
“I’m not going to,” Selena said.
“Not going to what?”
“Quit. I love what I’m doing. Love knowing that I can earn my own keep. Once the murals are done, I’ll spend less time working. I should be able to handle my business and take care of the baby too.”
If it was possible, he loved her even more at that moment.
“There’s no doubt in my mind you’ll handle both.” Hopefully as his wife.
“I’ll set up a special college account for the baby and put the money from my mom in it. If I ever have an emergency, I can dip into my Cambridge-Jarboe funds. But the way Macey and I worked it out, I can make enough to live on within a couple more months.”
“Listen to you,” Evan said, admiring this new confident professional side.
“What?”
“Ms. Business Chick. Raking in a living.”
Selena nodded. “A dose of harsh reality can do that.”
They arrived at the exit and went outside to cross the busy taxi and drop-off lanes.
He unlocked the passenger door of the truck and she climbed in, then he went around to the driver’s side and did the same.
“So what were you and your mom talking about when you said good-bye? Something about what-ifs?”
“Somehow you wowed her and I think she wants you for a son-in-law.”
He didn’t dare hope. “And?”
“She made suggestions for how to deal with a loved one’s dangerous career.”
He turned and leaned against the driver’s door, staring at her. “Loved one?”
She smiled reluctantly. “Yeah. Don’t get a big head though. I could be talking about my brother.”
Could be was better than am, he supposed.
“What kind of suggestions did she make?”
“Mostly vague ones,” she said, her smile fading.
“So do they work?”
She stared straight ahead, biting her lower lip. “I don’t know yet. But I’m trying.”
That was the best damn news he’d had all day. He nodded, working like the devil to appear nonchalant.
“What do you say we spend the day together while you keep trying?”
“Does your offer include food?”
“As much as you want.”
“Ice cream?”
“Butter pecan, all the way.”
“You’ve got yourself a deal, then.”
Chapter Twenty-Three
This morning he’d left her bed to make it to the station by seven. She’d spent the morning painting, trying to catch up from having taken two full days off. After showering, she was warming up a frozen dinner in the microwave.
Her cell phone, plugged in to charge on the kitchen counter, rang out with a bluesy riff that made her heart skip a beat. She hadn’t heard the tone for weeks but her body reacted with adrenaline anyway.
“Tom?”
“Yeah, Leenie,” her brother said. “It’s me.”
“Oh, my God, what’s wrong? Are you okay? You’re talking, so you’re not dead.”
“I’m okay. I’ve been trying to call you for hours.”
Her battery had been dead, and then the phone had been two stories below her. “You must still love me if you’re spending all that time trying to get through,” she said lightly, over the moon to hear his voice again after so long. Even if she’d been the one to cut him off.
His hesitation registered then and foreboding nearly choked her. “Tom? What’s wrong?”
In the two seconds it took him to speak, she thought she would pass out.
“It’s Mom. She had an aneurysm last night, Leenie.”
She fell onto the sofa, jaw gaping, staring out at the waves but taking no notice of them.
“She died, honey.”
“No.” She shook her head. “She was just here with me, Tom. She was fine. Perfectly healthy. No way.” Her head still shook from side to side, as if she could change the truth if she denied it hard enough.
“Lola found her when she didn’t show up for breakfast, but it was too late. She’d apparently passed hours before.”
“Oh, God. Poor Lola.” Lola was the cook who’d been with them for several years and lived in the guesthouse in the backyard.