Can't Forget Him

by West, Cara

  "What? Did I surprise you with my praise?" she asked. "I told you I'd turned over a new leaf."

  "Just give me a moment to catch my breath. Adjusting to the new Megan is turning out to be quite an adventure."

  "Adventure?" She rolled the word around in her mind. "That's not exactly how I would have put it. I was hoping my growing up would come as a vast relief."

  He laughed, but the sound had an edge to it. "Of all the ways I could describe you, 'relief' isn't one of them. I mean that as a compliment," he added hurriedly.

  "If you say so." She sounded doubtful.

  "Trust me," he said.

  "You know—" she thought for a moment "—I suspect I always have. Isn't that funny? I just now realized it."

  "Well, it's a start," he murmured.

  "I'm seeing a whole different side of you, big brother Nate."

  "Well, barely a start,'' he amended.

  She ignored his cryptic addition. "And I am glad you're here. Have I mentioned that?"

  "I couldn't have slept any more than you could," he said as they headed back toward the emergency entrance.

  For a moment or two, they walked in companionable silence.

  From the moment they'd met again, Megan mused, he'd seemed tuned in to her moods, as though the three years apart had actually intensified their friendship. Only occasionally did their conversation take an unexpected turn. And when that happened, Nate always corralled it to safety.

  She spoke her thoughts aloud. "I feel I can talk to you. Everyone else is wrung out and exhausted. That's one of the things that scares me. It's a whole new experience to feel this protective about the people I love."

  "And you don't feel you need protecting?" His voice held an unusual note.

  "No," she said, more curtly than she'd intended. "I mean, isn't that what this is all about? My being an equal member of the family? And why should I need protection, anyway?"

  He stroked a finger down her cheek and she shivered.

  He smiled down at her faintly. "Why should you, brave Megan. Why should you, indeed."

  THE NEXT EVENING at Carol's changed the way Megan viewed her family even further. The family had gathered at Carol's for a barbecue. Risa, Megan's oldest sister, bustled around in her usual fashion, directing traffic and supervising the kitchen detail. When Megan had been younger, she'd tried to keep pace with her oldest sister.

  Megan realized now that she didn't have to anymore. She didn't need to use Risa as a yardstick to measure her own worth. She could sit back and enjoy being pampered.

  Only, tonight her sister's efficiency had a frantic edge. She gave an update on Andrew's classes at the university. She made his absence sound temporary. He might be vacationing in the Caribbean, to hear Risa talk.

  She wasn't handling this very well, Megan realized with dawning distress. It occurred to Megan that Risa hadn't been to the hospital. Not once in two days.

  Larry, Risa's husband, must suspect her denial. He was a sensitive man who loved his wife deeply. Earlier he'd volunteered to take the evening shift at the hospital. Nate had just come back from delivering Larry's dinner. Nate always seemed to be around when he was needed.

  She wondered if he'd noticed the family dynamics. At one point she caught him watching the proceedings with a meditative air.

  He probably remembered how Risa and Carol once worried about Megan. Now she was the one doing the worrying. About both her sisters. Especially after she went upstairs to visit Carol, the invalid. If Risa was in denial, Carol was in what could only be called an existential sulk.

  She'd always been the placid, accommodating child. The sister who'd been content to make a home and babies for Gary, her wealthy adoring husband.

  Now Carol felt betrayed by her own body and furious at Gary and Risa, whom she accused of keeping the truth about Andrew's condition from her.

  Megan managed to soothe Carol's injured feelings by promising to provide timely bulletins from the hospital. She'd deal with Gary and Risa when she had to.

  Thinking all this, Megan began to have a sense of why her father had asked her to stay close to Molly. His other children had problems of their own to work out.

  After dinner Megan realized where her thoughts were leading her. The younger children were down for the night. The older ones were watching an Indiana Jones movie in Gary's newly equipped media center. Molly was happy to be upstairs doing her maternal duty.

  One of Andrew's old friends had relieved Larry at the hospital, and Megan, Jenny, Sam and the two brothers-in-law sat around the kitchen table while Risa stood at the counter preparing leftovers for the freezer.

  "I guess this is what it felt like," Megan said without preamble, '*when you were waiting to find out if I'd survived the ferry sinking."

  The rustle of aluminum foil stopped at once.

  Sam's eyes met Megan's. He seemed somber but thoughtful. "A little," he said, "only it didn't drag on. I don't know how people take it week after week, month after month, when there's a lingering illness." He paused, as though taking stock of his own words. "Of course, that could very well be what we're facing."

  Jenny's hand went under the table to rest on his knee.

  "I don't think there's any need to be morbid or unduly worried." Risa spoke from behind Megan in a strangled voice.

  "I'm not worried about Dad. At least not ultimately," Megan said before Risa could continue.

  Larry shook his head as though trying to warn Megan not to speak.

  She went on resolutely. ''I've never really had a chance to tell you what it felt like when I almost died. At the beginning it was horrible. The screams, the pain, the freezing water. But near the end... there was peace. Peace and light."

  No one spoke. The room was hushed.

  "I know if Dad dies," she said, "that'll be what he finds. We'll be the ones hurting. But we'll get through it together—if we have to."

  "I don't want to hear..." Risa cried before her voice failed.

  Larry rose from his chair and put his arms around her.

  "There's something about meeting death," Megan went on, "that gives a person a different outlook. You learn to appreciate life, while at the same time, you're not as scared of losing it."

  Risa started to cry softly.

  Sam stared at Megan as if seeing her for the first time.

  She glanced Nate's way and caught him studying her intensely. His scrutiny was unnerving, and she looked away.

  "I've often wondered how the accident affected you," Sam said after a moment. "But I didn't want to ask and bring up bad memories."

  "The accident completely changed my life. I grew up, for one thing."

  "Yeah," Sam said. "Sometimes, I think you're handling what's happened to Dad better than the rest of us."

  His words opened a floodgate. Risa's feelings of failure and inadequacy spilled over. It took the combined efforts of them all to bring a measure of calm.

  WHEN MOLLY BROKE DOWN at four the next morning, there was only Megan to comfort her. They'd been sharing the overnight shift when Andrew's vital signs became erratic, and the cardiologist was summoned to his side.

  Mother and daughter waited outside the doors of the CCU, hardly daring to breathe much less talk to each other. Once the crisis had ended and Andrew's condition had improved, Molly collapsed on the waiting-room couch and burst into tears.

  Megan had seen her mother weep over movies. She'd once cried watching a documentary on JFK's death. Several years earlier a childhood friend had died of cancer, and Molly had mourned her with gentle regretful tears. But her sobbing now racked her body and reverberated through Megan. And all Megan could do was hold her with every bit of strength and tenderness she possessed.

  Megan had never comforted her mother before. Andrew had always been there to cradle his wife in his arms and reassure her.

  Megan felt inadequate. Yet she became her mother's haven. And soothed her as a mother would a weeping child.

  PROBABLY THE MOST nerve-racking event
of this first dreadful week took place in her parents' kitchen. Megan was fixing a snack for her mother and herself, having spent another long night at the hospital. A night made memorable by its lack of drama.

  Since the last setback, Andrew had made real progress. He was eating solid food and had taken his first unsteady steps. Even so, Megan wasn't prepared for the call when it came.

  As soon as the phone rang, she snatched the receiver. She'd instructed Molly to take a shower and a nap, and she didn't want anything to disturb her mother's rest.

  Sam was on the line, his voice jubilant. "We just had a conference with the doctors. They've taken Dad off the heart-assist machine, and he's holding his own. They'll put in the pacemaker tomorrow morning."

  "Does that mean...?"

  "It means he's out of immediate danger. Of course, he could still have a setback. But when I went in to see him, he was alert and smiling."

  "I told you this morning he'd had a good night. Oh, Sam..."

  "I know, I know. We're not out of the woods yet. But I think we can all breathe a sigh of relief. Where's Mom?"

  "She's having a nap. I'll go tell her." Yet after Megan hung up the phone she stood for a moment, fighting a sudden attack of nerves.

  That was how Nate found her moments later.

  "Megan? What's wrong? Is it bad?"

  One look at his stricken face, and she broke into a watery smile. "No, no, it's not what you think. Sam just called. Dad's out of immediate danger. Don't mind my tears. I'm just so glad."

  Breaking into a cheer, he twirled her around the room. Then she threw her arms around him and kissed him madly before going to tell her mother the news.

  It wasn't until much later that she thought how fitting it was that this initial crisis should end in Nate's arms just as it had begun with his appearance.

  CHAPTER THREE

  "SO, MEGAN, when are you flying back to Italy?"

  Her brother-in-law Larry asked the question everyone else had been afraid to voice.

  Five weeks after the near-fatal attack, Andrew was home—permanently, everyone hoped. His physical progress had stalled, however.

  His emotional recuperation wasn't going well, either. He seemed tentative and childlike, irritable and moody. The doctors hoped that a dose of grandchildren and sunlight might do him good. With that in mind, the entire family had driven out to the Grant compound on Lake Travis.

  The entire family, including the latest grandchild. Two weeks after Andrew's attack, Carol had gone into labor. Although the baby had arrived early, both were doing fine.

  Everyone was oddly subdued as they lazed under the trees down the hill from the house. The younger children had been put down for their naps with Carol's nanny in attendance. The older children were playing a desultory game of volleyball on the beach, a short distance away.

  Nate had been invited for the day's activities. He'd come alone. In fact, Megan realized, she hadn't seen a woman on his arm since she'd been home. Perhaps he was between relationships.

  "Megan?"

  Megan came to and found everyone staring at her anxiously, including her father and Carol, who were ensconced in comfortable recliners. Luncheon was over, and she'd apparently been chosen as the after-dinner speaker.

  "When are you flying back to Milan?'' Larry repeated. "Have you made reservations?"

  Molly sent him a severe look. She'd been avoiding the subject of Megan's possible departure.

  The whole family had avoided it. Apparently no more.

  "Have you and Celia, your boss, had a chance to talk?" Risa asked. "Is she expecting you back soon?"

  "She is not expecting me at all. She's searching for a replacement."

  "Well," Carol said indignantly. "That was pretty callous. She knew you came home because of a family emergency."

  "I told her to hire someone when I called her last week."

  "Where does that leave you—?"

  "In Austin," Megan said.

  Sam appeared to be the first to put two and two together. "You're not going back, are you?" he guessed.

  "No, I'm not."

  Megan found herself enjoying the expressions that greeted her revelation. They ranged from Nate's astonishment to Molly's exaltation.

  "I hope you're not staying just because of me." Andrew's voice was fretful. "Molly needs you, too."

  "Andrew—" Molly's admonition was telling "—Megan realizes we both still need her."

  "But I want my children to lead their own lives."

  "She can live her life right here in Austin," Molly said. "She doesn't have to do it five thousand miles away."

  Megan went to kneel beside her father's chair. "I'm staying because I want to. Dad. I'd already made up my mind to come back before this ever happened, I promise."

  She brushed his forehead with her lips before turning to face the group. "I'd been thinking about coming home for several months. Dad's heart attack just precipitated events."

  "Have you made any plans?" Sam asked.

  "Some." Megan took the time to settle back in her chair. "They're fluid."

  "Are you looking for work in a local gallery?" Carol asked. "I've bought from several that specialize in European art and antiques."

  "I'm not looking for work in the sense you mean."

  "Are you going back for your doctorate?" It was a natural question for Larry to ask since he, as well as Andrew, was a professor.

  "No." Megan shook her head. "I've come to trust my own instincts."

  "She's toying with us," Carol remarked to the others.

  A curious hush fell over the group.

  Now was as good a time as any to make her announcement, Megan decided. "You know Celia had been giving me more and more responsibility. I was acquiring most of the art and I'd also started searching for promising new talent. I think I'm ready to open a gallery here in Austin. As soon as I find a suitable place."

  "You mean go into business on your own?" Risa asked. "You're only twenty-six."

  "Sam and Nate started the engineering firm when they were my age," Megan reminded her. "Don't you think I've inherited the family's entrepreneurial talent?"

  "But you need experience to go with it. More businesses fail than ever succeed." This was her other brother-in-law, Gary, speaking. He knew about success and failure, having managed his family's dry-cleaning chain for the past several years.

  "I realize that." Megan refused to take offense at his comment. "Remember, I've been Celia's assistant for over two years."

  "Which means you already have the contacts you need for your buying trips to Europe," Carol said. "I think the idea's exciting."

  "Actually I won't be handling European art."

  "But that's your area of expertise," Larry protested. "Why else did you spend three years in Italy?"

  "What kind of gallery is it going to be?" Jenny asked.

  "Very contemporary." Megan paused. "I'll still be seeking out new artists who haven't yet made a name for themselves. But I plan to specialize in art of the Southwest."

  There was a rush of questions. Megan halted them with a sweeping gesture.

  "Just listen for a minute. Let me try to explain." She turned to Larry. "I know my area of expertise. I'm ready to expand it."

  "You mean—" Sam grinned "—you're ready to take on the twentieth century."

  She flashed a grin back. "No. The twenty-first. I'm looking toward the future. I think I have an eye for spotting new talent."

  She raised her hands when Larry would have interrupted. "And why not talent right here at home? I have research to do, I know that. I'm spending the next few weeks making as many contacts as I can. I'm telling you, Europeans are hungry for American art." She made a fist and drummed her knee. "I know I have what it takes to make a name for myself."

  Larry looked at her hard. "Do you have any idea how difficult it'll be to build your credibility with the established art community."

  "Of course," she said. "But I have to start somewhere."

 
"Well, you do have your share of Grant confidence," Sam said.

  "You've been giving this a lot of thought, haven't you?" Her dad's voice held wonder. "Are you sure this is my youngest daughter talking? Last time I looked she was still wet behind the ears."

  She smiled at him. "Remember, I told you when I first got home I was all grown-up."

  Glancing around, she was pleased at the family's reaction to her announcement. She sensed a new measure of respect.

  This part of her homecoming was turning out exactly as she'd hoped.

  BY LATE AFTERNOON Megan needed time alone, away from the questions and advice of her parents and siblings.

  She walked along the lake's rocky shoreline. This had always been a place where she could find peace and renewal. She realized how much she'd missed it since she'd been gone. The water shimmered as clear and green as she remembered, its tendrils seeking out the nooks and crannies of the Central Texas hills.

  Halting for a moment to take a deep breath, she tried to gather the balmy day around her. A front had blown through last night, sweeping away the September heat.

  Looking around, she noted the new mansions that dotted the slopes. Her parents had bought their lake-front property before prices had skyrocketed, and there was nothing palatial about the Grant hideaway. It was a patchwork structure of added rooms and baths.

  Turning to gaze up the lawn, she sorted out the figures who lounged around the patio. One of them rose and headed her way.

  Nate. He hadn't been one of the interrogators. In fact, now that she had a chance to think about it, she realized his initial astonishment had settled into impassivity. She hadn't shared two sentences with him all afternoon.

  "Did you decide you'd neglected me and come to make amends?" she asked when he reached her side.

  "Do you feel neglected?" he countered. "From where I stood you looked more besieged."