by Connie Cox
Distracted, she looked past him. “With Adrian, I can’t turn it off. I have to always be on the alert to his smallest nuance. I love my son from head to toe. But always being aware of his every movement, adjusting my behavior to moderate his, assessing his slightest reactions so I can understand his needs, has become ingrained with me.”
“It must be exhausting.”
Bella cocked her head sideways. “I see it in other parents’ faces. I’ve often wondered if they see it on mine. But I’ve been doing it for so long I can’t imagine my life without having to be tuned in all the time.”
Cole soon saw what had distracted Bella. A family of five, mom, dad and three children spread out in age. The oldest boy had a medal around his neck Cole recognized from the special games. He showed the physical characteristics of Down’s syndrome. A toddler rode on her mother’s hip while Dad pushed a baby in a stroller. The parents looked like they were desperately seeking holiday happiness but not quite finding it.
“I want to be involved in my son’s life.”
Myriad emotions crossed Bella’s face. Rebellion. Anger. Confusion. And resignation. “Give me your email address in New York and I’ll email you regularly.”
At this moment, he couldn’t even think about returning to New York. All he could thing about was being here, now, with Bella only a breath away from him.
What would Bella think if he leaned over and kissed away the tightness around her mouth? But he knew that would be moving too fast for her.
Honesty time. They were moving too fast for him.
He had always had a vision for his future, knowing his next goal, planning his next step. But a fourteen-year-old boy had never fit into that plan.
“I intend to fly in and visit as often as I can.” Decision made, he felt in control of his world once again.
Cole didn’t have to be a behavioral therapist to read Bella’s cautious body language. “That won’t work. Adrian needs routine. He doesn’t respond well to change.”
“The only constant in life is change.”
“Did you read that in a fortune cookie?”
Cole caught himself tensing his shoulders. Pain radiated through his back, up his neck and along his skull.
Deliberately, he took a breath and leaned back on the bench. “I would never do anything to hurt Adrian or you.”
“Cole, you don’t understand. Any child would have trouble adjusting to a parent dropping in and out of his life, but Adrian is special. As hard as both Adrian and I work to make him fit in, there are some aspects of his life that just don’t work like other people’s. He needs consistency. Unless you’re planning on moving back to New Orleans, you becoming involved in Adrian’s life won’t be good for him.” Her eyes froze like glaciers. “But, then, that was one of your goals, wasn’t it? To leave all this behind.”
His mouth twisted in a crooked grimace. “That was the plan.”
As if the glaciers had melted as quickly as they’d frozen, her eyes became soft and watery. How deeply had she been hurt by his rejection? At least as deeply as he had ached when he’d crumpled her engagement announcement in his fist.
Bella grabbed his hands, squeezing them between her own small palms. “Why, Cole? Why did you always want to leave?”
She didn’t understand. How could she when he’d never told her?
Where most people found calm in the water rolling past, Cole found anxiousness. The power of the waves lapping the shore made from the wakes of the slow-moving barges aggravated a restlessness deep inside him.
As always when he thought of that day, he felt vestiges of that night, heard the water slap the side of their wrecked shrimp boat, heard the sounds of his brother’s whimpering getting weaker with each inch of movement of the sun toward the horizon.
Why now? Why, when he normally forced his mind to skirt past those memories, was he willingly allowing them to flow?
The answer was in the small, delicate hand clasped in his. Isabella brought him a security he found nowhere else. That was how it had been from the moment they had first brushed fingertips all those years ago.
“My father loved the water. My mother tolerated it, because my father loved it.”
“She loved him very deeply.”
“Yes.”
Remembering Bella’s advice, Cole deliberately relaxed his neck and jaw. “My brother was just like my father. He wanted to follow in Dad’s footsteps.”
“But you?”
“I was always worried I would be trapped in shrimping. My father had worked hard to build up a family business to pass on to his sons. He wanted to leave us with a legacy.”
Cole thought hard, trying to remember what his father had looked like. He remembered feelings, impressions, but the visual memories were fuzzy. “My dad wasn’t even fifty, but he was already thinking of our future.”
“But it wasn’t the future you wanted. Did he know that?”
“No. As hard as he worked for us, I didn’t want to disappoint him by telling him I didn’t want to spend my life on a boat.” The knot at the base of Cole’s neck throbbed and threatened to cramp. He could stop, change the subject, walk away from the pain.
“I knew there was a boating accident, but you never told me what happened. Tell me, Cole. Tell me the rest of it.”
“Nothing but truth between us...” Cole looked out at the water, unwilling to see the condemnation in Bella’s eyes. “It could have been my fault.”
“The wreck?”
“Yes. A tropical storm was blowing in. I was supposed to keep an eye on the weather and let my dad know how fast it was moving. Money was tight—it was always tight. Shrimping is always poor right after a storm brings in a cold front, so we needed to stay on the water as long as we could before the weather changed.”
“That’s a lot of responsibility for a young boy.”
“Not so young. I was thirteen, and I had been born into the business, remember? I knew what I was supposed to do.”
For the first time in all these years Cole forced himself to think back. “I had part of my attention on the weather forecast, but the other part was in the book I was reading. I was always getting into trouble for not paying attention to details—I guess I’m guilty of the same thing getting you pregnant with Adrian.”
“It takes two. I don’t recall protesting.” Bella squeezed his hand. “And I would never trade having Adrian for a chance to do it over.”
The sincerity in Bella’s voice convinced him she was being totally truthful. Her response eased the guilt he’d felt ever since he’d found out he’d walked out on his pregnant girlfriend.
“Cole, what happened that day?”
Could Bella absolve him of this guilt, too? “I remember wanting to go in to shore. The Gulf has a different feel, a different rhythm right before a storm.”
Cole could still remember the color of the water, the smell in the air, all different with the approaching storm. Nature’s warning system, his father had said.
“But one of the nets snagged. We couldn’t afford to lose a net so we were trying to pull it in, but the wind picked up.”
His throat ached. He realized he’d stopped talking and was staring out into the mouth of the Gulf. Bile rose as he remembered.
“Finally, Dad said to leave it and we cut it loose.” He remembered the feel of the bulky knife in his hands as he sawed through the ropes that represented a large portion of his family’s livelihood.
“Mom was already steering us home, with us dragging that net. I could see the storm coming, a dark solid blackness of water punctuated by lightning. The winds picked up, throwing us from side to side.”
Cole blinked, surprised to find the day was bright and cheerful around him. “I remember waking up, trapped under debris. My brother was close enough to touch. He was making a low whimpering sound. My father kept telling my mother over and over again he was sorry. The next time I regained consciousness the Coastguard was lifting me onto their boat. I was the only survivor.”
�
�I’m so sorry, Cole.” Tears tracked down
Bella’s face.
“I’ve never told anyone any of that.” As he absently began to rub his neck, he winced at the pain arcing through his arm. “You’re right about me tensing up at old memories.”
“Thank you for telling me. Now I understand why you always wanted to leave.” She lifted their clasped hands to her lips and kissed the back of his hand. “Why did you never tell me this before?”
“I thought you might stop loving me.”
“You didn’t have a lot of faith in me, did you?” She stroked his cheek, softening her question.
Cole untangled their fingers. “You didn’t even let me come to your house. I had to see you in secret. I was always worried you’d break up with me because I didn’t wear the right clothes or have a car. What would it do to us to confess that I might have caused my family’s deaths?”
“Was I really that awful? Why did you even bother with me?”
“Because I loved you.” Cole took a deep breath to slow his pounding heart. “And I never thought you were awful. Just easily influenced.”
“And now?”
Cole looked over at his son, sharing bread with the family from the special games as Dr. Allante admired the athlete’s medal. The toddler ran among the pigeons, sending them flying. Even with two parents, they were a family on the cusp of chaos. How hard had it been for Bella?
“Now I think you’re the strongest woman I know.”
She nodded. “You’re right. I was weak. I might have tried harder to contact you about being pregnant but I—I really didn’t want to move away from my family.”
“I hadn’t realized the extent of Mrs. Beautemps’s meddling when I saw that engagement announcement.” Cole let loose a deprecating laugh. “I even imagined she might be trying to protect me—and she didn’t even know me. I should have given you the chance to explain.”
“Whether she intended to or not, she did protect you. You weren’t in the right place to be saddled with a family. You would never have become the man you are today, and that would have been a loss for too many people who need you and your brilliance in the operating room.” Her smile was sadly sweet. “As needy as I was, and with Adrian’s
complications, you could have never finished medical school while trying to provide for us, too. And I would have been in a strange environment without my family and friends, totally unprepared to be a wife and mother. Looking back, I see how her manipulations protected both of us.”
“If I had asked you to marry me back then, would you have said yes?”
“I don’t know.” She bit her lip, reminiscent of that young, meek girl she had been. “I don’t think so.”
She gave him an open, gentle smile. “I always blamed you—for everything. It was as much me as you. Forgive me?”
A huge mass moved off Cole’s heart. “I do. Forgive me, too?”
Her smile shone from her clear, bright eyes. “Yes, I do.”
She lifted her face, her lips partially open. Cole gave in to instinct, leaned down...
And heard a woman’s scream.
* * *
Bella looked up in time to see the toddler who had been feeding pigeons run from her mother straight into oncoming traffic. Faster than she could process, Bella saw the street corner saxophonist drop his sax and go after the girl.
In a split second of screaming, shouting and squealing brakes, he pushed the little girl to safety. The thud his body made hitting the front of the oncoming taxi was a sound Bella felt in the pit of her stomach.
Cole was already on his feet, running toward the scene.
“Bella, call 911.”
Bella punched in the numbers and gave their location, all the while following in Cole’s footsteps.
A quick look for Adrian showed him standing next to his grandfather, hands firmly gripping the wheelchair as if he was ready to push his grandfather from danger.
Cole knelt on the ground, trying to assess injuries, but the jazz player kept attempting to get up despite Cole’s firm hand on his chest.
“How can I help?” She sounded much calmer than she felt.
Cole gave her an assessing look, then ordered, “Kneel down and bracket his head with your knees to hold him steady.”
Isabella did as she was told, for once glad to have succinct commands to follow.
“The little girl—where’s the little girl?” the man asked over and over, hysteria making his voice shrill.
Cole glanced up long enough to meet Bella’s eyes. “Keep him talking and keep him calm.”
Bella leaned in close to make eye contact with the injured man, firmly sandwiching his head between her knees.
Calmly, quietly, she answered, “The little girl is with her mother. You saved her. Now we are going to take care of you.”
Cole emanated power and control. Lifting the man’s shirt, he placed his hand on his stomach and gently pressed. “Does this hurt?”
The man bucked under Cole’s light touch and started to shake. “Yes.”
“Do you have any other pain?” Using the fingers of his free hand, Cole lifted one eyelid, then the other.
“My shoulder.”
Cole continued with his assessment, running his hands down the man’s legs, across his clavicle and down the other arm.
In the distance, she heard the siren of an ambulance. Controlling her adrenaline, she used her best sing-song hypnotherapist’s tone as she smiled into the man’s eyes. “What’s your name?”
“Ernest.” His voice was high and thready as his frantic focus darted everywhere at once. “Ernest Covington.”
“Ernest.” She said it forcefully to capture his attention. “That’s a strong name. We’re taking good care of you.”
“The little girl?” he asked again, panic edging back into his voice as he started to gather his thoughts.
“She’s okay. She’s with her mother now.” Bella didn’t dare break eye contact to check the truth of that statement. Keeping Ernest’s attention was key to keeping him calm. “Breathe with me, Ernest.”
She stole a glance at Cole, who was counting off Ernest’s pulse rate. Drawing from Cole’s steadiness, Bella took in a steady breath, held it for a moment, then breathed it out again.
Ernest followed her lead. His own breath was jagged but he tried to follow her lead.
“Good. Let’s do it again.”
This time Ernest matched her tempo. The wildness in his eyes cleared. In a more measured tone, devoid of hysteria, he asked, “My saxophone. Where’s my saxophone?”
“It’s being well taken care of.” At least, she hoped so.
Isabella sensed rather than saw Cole shift position. She wanted to read his assessment of Ernest but that was an indulgence she disciplined herself against.
With the greatest willpower she kept her attention centered on the injured man when she could have all too easily been drawn into Cole’s charismatic presence.
In her peripheral vision Isabella saw the flashing lights of the ambulance. “Ernest, stay calm. The E.M.T.s are here to take you to the hospital.”
The emergency medical technicians acted with speed and professionalism. Cole debriefed them with his assessment and Ernest was safely strapped to a backboard and loaded into the ambulance quicker than Bella thought possible.
Concussion, possible internal injuries, deep gash in the upper right arm, and a crushed shoulder was how Isabella interpreted Cole’s medical jargon.
Without thinking, she leaned against Cole and allowed him to wrap her in his support as they watched the ambulance’s lights fade into traffic.
Once she realized what she was doing, she almost shifted away, too used to standing on her own feet, literally, to comfortably give up that modicum of control. But she’d slept in his arms the previous night. Moving away now seemed hypocritical.
And she sensed he needed her as much as she needed him. Or was that what she wanted to think?
“Will he make it?”
>
Cole looked grim. “I don’t know.”
Ernest had risked his life to save that little girl and now he might lose his own.
The father of the little girl gathered up the saxophone where it lay, scuffed from the pavement, and put it in the case that had filled with bills from compassionate onlookers.
The small affirmations of the goodness of human nature coupled with Ernest’s heroic rescue and Cole’s unhesitating response made tears well in Bella’s eyes.
She wasn’t the only one.
“Which hospital?” the father asked. “I want to...” he sniffed back tears before he could finish “...thank him and do what I can for him.”
In unison, Cole and Bella both named their hospital.
“It’s our local charity and teaching hospital,” Bella explained. “They have excellent emergency medical staff and specialists there.”
As he continued to thank Cole and Bella profusely, the father of the toddler gathered his family together, trying to calm his bewildered eldest son and his crying wife and babies. Finally, he herded them down the sidewalk toward the parking lot and their family car.
Isabella watched them until they turned a corner, out of sight.
She was grateful to see her own little family still safely at a distance. Adrian seemed to be entranced with his doctor doll while his grandfather steadily talked to him.
She felt the adrenaline that she had so tightly held in check now course through her, making her shake.
Cole held her tight. His strength kept her from falling apart right there on the street.
He whispered in her ear, “Deep breaths, Bella. You did a good job. He was already suffering from hypovolemic shock. He didn’t need psychological shock compounding his condition. And you kept him alert despite his concussion. The trauma team will have a better chance of saving him in his present state of consciousness.”
The strength in his deep tone more than his words steadied her.
She blinked and looked around, surprised to see everything looked the same. After such a dramatic incident she would have thought the earth would have cracked open, the Mississippi River would have started to flow backward or some other world-altering change would have taken place. A glance at her watch showed less than five minutes had passed. It seemed like a lifetime.