It scared her more than living life alone. She closed her eyes.
Trent’s warm hand traveled up her arm and he stepped closer.
“This is a bad idea,” she whispered. There was no reason to deny the sparks. She hoped he wouldn’t make a fool of her by saying he didn’t know what she meant.
She couldn’t look in his eyes. His chocolate brown eyes would see through her and call her out.
When his hand dropped, she released a breath she didn’t realize she held, and fled up the stairs.
Chapter Eight
Silence came in two categories, quiet and painful, or quiet and comfortable. How she and Trent had gone from comfortably quiet to get-me-the-hell-out-of-this-car quiet, Monica would never know. The way Trent gripped the steering wheel told her he was just as ready to have her out of his space.
Monica reduced herself to closing her eyes and acting as if she was trying to rest the final miles to the clinic. Her heart started to skip as they rounded the last corner and the now familiar town came into view. More people were milling about and there were Jamaican police combing the rubble with dogs. The chances of finding anyone alive at this point would be minimal, but that didn’t stop the collective effort of those still searching for their loved ones.
Trent slowed the Jeep and Monica unhooked her seat belt in hopes of a quick getaway.
“I really appreciate the bed and ability to duck out of here last night.” She did, despite how uncomfortable she was now.
“No problem.” He stopped his car, put it in park.
She reached for the handle to open the door, and gathered her backpack in the other hand. “Thanks for everything, Trent. It’s been a pleasure knowing you.”
A wave of confusion marred his brow. “I’ll come by later—”
Monica forced a smile to her lips. “No, it’s not necessary. Walt said there was more help coming today.” And if you come back I might not push you away next time. “But thanks… for everything.”
Then she fled, not willing to hear him say good-bye.
Monica congratulated herself for not running. Still, she made it inside the clinic, stowed her backpack, and went in search of a familiar face.
Dr. Eddy had gone back to the main hospital with a critical patient, and in his place, Tina came to help. She’d driven with the medics, using the time to sleep.
Monica rushed into the job, and pushed Trent from her mind. What was done was done. Thinking about him, or what might have been, would be a waste of energy.
The day reached temperatures into the high eighties and the humidity was unbearable, but the misery was in the smell. Monica placed a mask over her face and encouraged the patients and family members alike to wear one. Between the dead that were too many to count, and the lack of sanitation in most of the structures, disease was going to be the next immediate problem.
Dr. Eddy had left her orders to start taking antibiotics as a preventative measure. Monica had had her share of scares after treating patients back home, but this felt different.
Several hours into her day, Monica managed a few minutes of a break. She slipped out the back and found the shade of a tree.
When her mind started to picture Trent, she cursed herself and picked up her phone.
Jessie answered on the second ring. “Mo?”
“Hey, Jessie.”
“Oh, God… I’ve been so worried. The news is showing… oh hell, I don’t have to tell you. How are you? Is it awful?”
Monica listened to her sister ramble and understood her concerns. “I’m fine,” she lied. “And it’s worse than awful. These poor people have lost nearly everything. They’re filling the streets and sleeping next to the ruins of their homes. It’s chaos.”
“I can’t believe you’re there.”
“Someone has to be.”
There was an audible sigh on the other end of the line. “I’m proud of you, Mo.”
“Oh, stop.”
“No, really. You’ve done something with your life and really made a difference. I don’t tell you enough how proud I am of you.”
Monica stared at her feet and felt her cheeks heat. “Thanks, Jessie. So, how is everything there? How’s Danny?”
Jessie bent her ear for several minutes about a mother-and-son dance Danny had taken her to. Complete with cowboy hats and boots. His attire of choice since Jessie married.
Monica attempted to laugh at her sister’s antics with her son, but as much as she loved hearing her sister, Monica was having a hard time concentrating. She kept wondering where Trent was. Was he thinking about her? Would she see him again?
“Mo?”
Was he flying? Was he sitting on his porch watching the waves with Ginger?
“Monica?”
“Yeah?”
Jessie paused. “Are you OK? You don’t sound yourself.”
“I’m fine. A little tired, but fine.”
Maybe it was the distance, or maybe Monica was a better actress than she gave herself credit, but Jessie accepted her excuse and continued for a little while.
“… oh, and Jack should be there tomorrow. Do you have any idea how much longer you’ll be there?”
“Wait? What? Jack’s coming?”
“Haven’t you heard a thing I’ve said? There is a Morrison on the island. He’ll only be there overnight, to show support and offer the hotel’s help to those affected.”
Monica didn’t even consider that Jack and his family would own one of the hotels on the island. But they were the Morrisons, for God’s sake. Of course they owned a hotel on the island.
“I don’t know how much longer we’ll be here. It seems like there’s more than enough work to keep me busy for a month.”
“You’re not staying that long, are you?”
“I wouldn’t have a job to go back to if I did that. But we haven’t even discussed when we’re pulling out yet.” It would be a few more days at least. Even Monica knew that a relief effort was exactly that… an effort. She couldn’t stay on permanently. Already the locals were coming in asking her what she could do about their homeless status. As if Monica could help with that.
“You can always fly home with Jack if you wanted to.”
“Don’t be ridiculous. I’ll pull out when the team pulls out.”
Jessie sighed again. “Be careful, Mo.”
“Aren’t I always?” In fact, Monica had always been the most careful person in their collective lives. Oh, she would advocate a reckless act, but she never once truly jumped off any metaphoric cliff.
Sensible Monica. She set her mind on a goal and achieved it.
Always.
Like making sure Trent knew he wasn’t needed.
Done.
And now… where was he?
“I love you, Monica.”
“Love you too, Jessie.”
After she hung up, Monica sat staring at two birds building a nest. Numbness seeped into her veins and made her back teeth grind.
Maybe the Ice Queen was starting to live up to her reputation. Maybe she didn’t care if she ever built a nest… or had someone to build it with.
Tauni called her from inside the clinic, ending Monica’s thoughts.
“You need to find her, Jack.” Jessie pointed a finger at her husband as if he’d told her no already. Not that he denied her anything. “I could hear it in her voice. She’s not OK. I don’t care what she said.”
“Darlin’, I’m sure she’s just stressed—”
“Oh, it’s more than stress. I know Monica, and she’s not OK. Something’s going on.”
Jack shook his head. His brown hair, wet from his shower, shook rivulets of water down his chest. “There’s a huge disaster over there, Jessie. Of course something is going on.”
It wasn’t often that Jessie argued with her husband but she was ready to take him by the shoulder and shake him. “It’s more than that. She’s… off. Really off. I only remember one time she sounded like this. It was right before I moved out of Mom’s.
She moved in with me a few months later.”
“Wasn’t Monica still in high school?”
Jessie had Danny at that point and needed to get out from under her mother’s roof. When Monica had shown up with a suitcase Jessie couldn’t turn her away. It wasn’t that Renee had kicked her out, it was simply that Monica couldn’t live with the uncertainty of their mother’s life. With the men, the instability. Today both Monica and Jessie had a relationship with their mother. Not the best of relationships, but something they could build on so long as they didn’t live together.
“And she was desperate to move in with me. That’s how she sounded… desperate.”
Jack shrugged. “It’s probably just stress.”
“It’s more than stress!” Was the man not listening to her?
Jack offered his dimpled smile and walked over with his Texan swagger he wore like a badge of honor. He pulled her into his arms.
She tried pulling away.
He wouldn’t let go. “Darlin’, don’t worry. I’ll check on Monica if it will make you feel better.”
She settled.
“You will?” A rush of emotion started to well inside.
“Did you tell her?”
“I couldn’t. She sounded so sad.”
Jack ran his hands down her back and to her waist. “It might have cheered her up.”
“It wasn’t the right time. And don’t you dare tell her about the baby unless I say.”
Jack rubbed noses with her and sealed his lips with hers. They’d just passed her second month of pregnancy and were waiting for the perfect time to tell the family.
“I’m good with secrets,” he told her.
Jessie rolled her eyes. “You should have been an actor.”
Jack had spent the first months of their relationship disguised as a broke dreamer who didn’t keep a steady job, when in reality he was heir and part owner of the Morrison empire of hotels and resorts. All because he wanted to know if Jessie loved him for who he was and not the dollars in his bank account.
Jessie knew he could keep a secret.
“Just find her and check for yourself. And if something is wrong you bring her home.”
“Yes ma’am,” he said with a wink.
“I mean it.” She knew her hormones were doing the talking. Thankfully, Jack didn’t do anything else but relent with a kiss and a smile.
I don’t care.
Three little words that filtered through Trent’s head for hours were easy to repeat, but hard to hear.
After he’d dropped Monica off at the clinic, he’d returned to the airstrip and poured himself into the relief effort. Although the military and several helping agencies had larger cargo-holding helicopters to shuttle supplies around the island, Trent found a reason to get in the air. More than one actually. He flew tourists back to the airport so they could leave the island behind even though there were now buses of people fleeing.
Even with all the back and forth, eventually there wasn’t a need for Trent to be in the air.
His sanctuary at home felt more like a holding cell. Instead of returning, he called Alex and Betty and suggested they meet. Although they hadn’t spoken of the future of Blue Paradise, Trent wanted to assure the couple they’d be taken care of.
There was a private pilots’ lounge, where Trent met with his employees.
He hugged Betty and shook Alex’s hand. “How are you two doing?”
Alex spoke first. “Better.” Alex took hold of his wife’s hand. “We consider ourselves lucky.”
“Almost guilty,” Betty added.
Trent understood that emotion. “We are the lucky ones. I know it’s soon, but have you thought about what you might want to do?”
Betty glanced at her husband then back to Trent.
“We were hoping you’d tell us our options,” Alex said.
Trent smiled and did his best to ease their minds. “I can’t even guess how long it will take to rebuild, or bring tourists in. You know how many locations we have and I’m sure I can find a place for you if you want to leave. If you want to stay here, we can work out something while things rebuild. It’s going to be your call.”
“Our daughter’s in Florida. We were thinking of visiting her for a while. At least until the basics are restored to the island. We don’t even have power at the house.” Alex ran a hand over his bald head. “Our food stores are nearly gone. Betty’s worried about disease.”
“It feels like we’re abandoning ship,” Betty uttered.
“It isn’t as if you’ve lived here all your lives,” Trent reminded them. They’d moved to the island a little over a year prior to the quake and had made it clear that they wanted to work through a “long vacation.” Alex was retired military and Betty had been a flight instructor. Between the two of them, they worked one full-time job… most of which Alex flew. “You tell me what you want to do, and I’ll help you do it. If you want to go to Florida to consider your options and get back to me, that’s fine too. None of us saw this coming and no one knows how long it’s going to take for normalcy to return.”
There were tears in Betty’s eyes when she said, “Thank you.”
“What are you going to do?” Alex sat back in his chair and sipped his coffee.
“I’m not entirely sure myself.”
“You have that beautiful house,” Betty reminded him.
“And like you, I feel guilty being the only one walking around in it.” For the first time since he’d had it built it felt too big and too empty. Trent pushed out of his chair. “You two talk it over and let me know what you decide. I’ll have Jason make a couple of calls about changing locations if you want. Just say the word.”
They said their good-byes and Trent made his way to his car. His stomach reminded him that he hadn’t eaten since late morning. He had a few more reserves than most, but he too would run out of food eventually. The government had set up soup kitchens for the locals, but as much as Trent liked to call Jamaica home, he wasn’t a local, and he wasn’t without means.
He didn’t have to stay.
Ginger greeted him and followed him around the house.
He set out to make a sandwich for a simple dinner. One sniff of the bread had it in the trash. “Looks like a can of chili and crackers,” he told the dog.
Ginger ate her food with a wag of her tail.
He ate on the back patio and kept looking at the empty chair to his side.
He’d blown it. He could be easing at least one person’s suffering while they gave of themselves, but no, Trent let memories swallow him and shut him down.
Monica had made it clear that she didn’t want him to return.
What was she eating?
Was she eating?
He’d heard of at least one nurse returning to the States with a critical patient. Was it Monica?
The chili sat in Trent’s stomach like a stone.
“I don’t know her last name.” How would he know if she returned home safe?
His cell phone rang, interrupting his thoughts.
Caller ID told him Jason was on the line.
“Hey, Jason.” Trent tried to sound upbeat.
“I thought you were going to call, keep us up to date.”
“I’m fine,” Trent interrupted his oldest brother’s rant. “Thanks for asking.”
“Dammit, Trent. Mom and Dad aren’t around to worry about you, which leaves me to do the job.”
Trent shivered picturing his parents. “I’m good. Things are—” Things were completely FUBAR. “Messy. But I’m glad you called.”
Jason released a long breath. “Finally come to your senses and ready to come home?”
The words “I am home” sat at the top of his lips but didn’t slip out. “I needed to talk to you about Alex and Betty,” he said instead. He went on to ask Jason to look into options for his faithful employees.
“It sounds like you’ll be leaving soon after.”
“I haven’t packed my bags,” Trent told h
im. “The clinics are full and people need help.”
“And what? You’re playing nursemaid to them?”
Well actually…
He thought of the day before when he walked beside Monica as she called out orders as if he was her personal aide. He hadn’t minded. She knew what she was doing and couldn’t possibly do it all alone.
“It’s obvious you can’t stay there much longer,” Jason continued with a softer voice. “Living the hermit life isn’t going to bring them back, Trent.”
Trent’s skin heated, his gaze turned red. “Is that what you think I’ve been doing here?”
“What do you want me to think? Right after the crash you left. We barely said good-bye to our parents and you left, too. It’s like Glen and I lost our brother as well as our parents.”
Old hurt settled in his chest. He hadn’t thought about that. “They would never have been in the air if I didn’t push Dad to take her home.”
It was supposed to be the weekend when Connie could get to know his family. She was a flight attendant for a commercial airline. They’d met in an airport when bad weather had grounded air traffic and the two of them were waiting for a cab during a snowstorm in New York. They’d shared a cab, a late dinner, and a bed. She lived in Chicago and Trent lived in a Connecticut suburb.
When he thought of her now, years after her death, he saw who she really was as clear as the moon in the night sky. At the time he only saw her laughing smile and zest for life.
They met in exotic locations, or stopovers in nowhere places. They talked about their futures, and after a short time, Trent wanted to find a way to combine their lives.
He’d surprised her by flying his father’s midsize Lear 60 to pick her up for the weekend. When they landed in Connecticut, she thought it would be a cozy weekend with just the two of them. But his parents, Beverly and Marcus, wanted to meet the woman Trent wanted to make a permanent fixture in his life.
Connie didn’t hide her surprise or discontent when Trent took her to a restaurant and met his parents inside. Dinner had been strained. Halfway through Connie excused herself and Trent followed.
Not Quite Enough (Not Quite series) Page 8