“He never stopped loving you, though.” Paul continued unaware of her grandmother’s burgeoning emotion. “He kept your picture beside his bed for as long as I can remember. That’s how Sara learned who he was. She saw your picture next to the bed.” Paul stopped abruptly.
Her grandmother fumbled for the nurses’ call button.
“What do you need, Grams? I’ll get it for you,” Sara said.
Her grandmother ignored her and pushed back the covers on the bed. “My robe. Get me my robe.”
“What are you doing?” Sara began to panic realizing maybe she’d made a mistake telling Grams about Jack.
“What do you think I’m doing, girl? I’m getting up.”
“You can’t. You’re not well enough.”
“Hogwash. I’m too angry to die now. I’ve got to go give that damn fool a piece of my mind for all the years wasted. Then I’ll be able to make my peace and leave this world. As angry as I feel now, God will take one look at my face and send me back.”
A nurse entered the room. “Is there something you need, Mrs. Kennedy?”
“Yes. Get me a wheelchair. I’ve somewhere to go before I die.”
The nurse, clearly surprised, turned to Sara for an explanation.
Sara motioned her to the hall. Quietly, she explained the situation and procured the woman’s promise to bring a chair. Then she went back into the room, helped her grandmother sit up, and put her robe on over her rail-thin shoulders.
Paul Anderson returned to his uncle’s room to wait.
Chapter 24
Once Grams was seated in the wheelchair, they slowly rolled her down the hall to Jack’s room and maneuvered her inside next to the bed. Sara didn’t quite know how her grandmother managed to hold herself upright, sheer adrenaline and pigheaded determination she imagined.
Jack lay silent, his chest barely rising with each breath. Paul stood on the opposite side of the bed, hovering as if to protect his uncle from harm. And the way Grams was glaring, Sara could fully understand why.
Her grandmother’s hand trembled as she grasped Jack’s arm. Her face softened for a moment, and her eyes filled with sorrow when she saw the scarred figure in front of her. “Oh, my love, what did they do to you?” she whispered. Then, as if coming out of her shock, she took a deep breath and her voice rose adamantly, brooking no argument. “Jack. You hear me? You wake up now, you stubborn old fool. I’ve something to say to you.”
“Grams,” Sara said, appalled by her grandmother’s behavior. “I don’t think a scolding is what he needs right now.”
Grams ignored her. “Jack McOmber, I know you can hear me so don’t you dare die before I say my peace. Now you listen real good. How dare you presume I wouldn’t love you scars and all. I’ve loved you for an eternity and beyond and not because of that pretty face of yours. When I think of the time wasted, I want to shake you.” And her hand resting on his arm did just that.
Paul leaned forward to grab Gram’s hand but stopped when his uncle made a sound deep in his throat.
“I thought that might get your attention, and don’t you dare laugh at me.” Grams locked her fingers with Jack’s. “The electricity’s still there. Feel it. So, don’t you be leaving without me. From now on, where you go, I go too. I’ve had all the leaving behind I can take. Now, why don’t you open those baby blues of yours and let me see them one more time.”
Jack’s lips moved silently, but there was no doubt what he said. “Frannie Girl.” His lids fluttered with the effort to open, but finally managed to do so and the piercing emotion streaming from his eyes rocked Sara to the core. It was pure unvarnished love.
“Aw, Jack,” her grandmother whispered, “I love you too, you foolish man.” She withdrew her hand from his and slid it up to his face. How could you think something so little as these . . .” She caressed the scars on his face. “Would ever make me stop loving you? You should have known better.”
Jack closed his eyes as Gram’s fingers caressed his face.
Her grandmother moved her hand back to the arm of her chair and attempted to rise. “Help me up,” she ordered Sara.
Sara barely made it in time to step behind her grandmother before the wheelchair rolled back.
“Here, let me.” Paul came up behind Sara and slipped his hands under her grandmother’s arms.
Tears streamed down Sara’s cheeks when Grams leaned forward to kiss Jack.
He let out a quiet sigh.
Then the energy sustaining her grandmother suddenly subsided. “I think I need to lie down now,” she said, her voice noticeably weaker.
“Here, let me get the wheelchair.” Sara stepped back.
“No, I don’t think I can make it back to my room.” She leaned against Paul. “Just lift me up onto the other bed. I don’t want to leave Jack. I don’t want him going without me.”
“Grams, I don’t think the hospital will allow it.”
The nurse who moved to the doorway after assisting her grandmother to the room spoke up. “No, it’s fine.” She moved to the bed and drew back the sheet. “Here let me help you get her settled.”
Everyone moved at once to assist her grandmother.
“Roll my bed closer to Jack’s, so I can hold his hand then I’ll be at peace.”
Sara glanced at the nurse for permission.
“That’s fine for now, we can move it back later,” she said as she released the locking pedal on the wheels.
Gram’s eyes closed and she let out a sigh. “I can rest now.”
Once the nurse had the heart monitor back on her grandmother’s finger, she left to make notes in her chart.
“I need to get Gram’s and my things from the other room. I’ll be right back.”
“I’ll give you a hand,” Paul offered.
Sara didn’t refuse, emotionally too worn out to argue. She handed her computer bag and briefcase to Paul, then using a plastic bag she found in the bottom drawer of the bedside table, she collected the few items that belonged to her grandmother.
After depositing Grams belongings into the other room, Sara stayed with her for about thirty minutes while her grandmother slept, the recent ordeal having drained whatever strength Grams had left. Paul remained by his uncle’s side. Neither of them spoke. Too tired to remain any longer, Sara slid on her coat and gloves, kissed her grandmother’s cheek, and bid her and Paul goodbye. He didn’t offer to escort her to her car, and she wondered if he felt as disturbed by what they had experienced as she did.
No snow fell as she made the solitary drive home. She thought of stopping by Tom and Kelly’s to tell them about Grams and Jack, but for some reason she continued by their driveway. Her mind had yet to fully process the night’s events, and she needed to mull them over before sharing what happened. She felt out of sorts and wasn’t sure why. Although the ending of her grandmother’s love story came almost too late, it at least ended happily. Grams had the opportunity to see Jack again. Why shouldn’t she feel happier?
Maybe because she realized unless she was willing to risk her own heart again, there would be no happy ending in store for her. No great love to sustain her. No one she longed to see when she crossed from this world to the next. She’d chosen the single life and suddenly she wasn’t quite sure how she felt about it. When Jack gazed at her grandmother, the love that radiated from his whole being was spellbinding. What it must feel like to give or be the recipient of such an emotion, Sara couldn’t imagine. But without a doubt, it would change her world.
Sara sat for a long time in the living room, rocking with a cup of hot cocoa in hand, her mind and heart searching for answers. Exhausted beyond endurance, she crawled into bed and fell into a restless sleep only to be awakened by the urgent peal of her cell phone.
Groggily, she glanced at the bedside clock. Five-thirty. Not
good. Heart pounding, she grabbed her cell and peered with one eye at the name of the caller. Lynne. She tapped in her security code and answered.
“What’s wrong, Lynne?”
“The hospital phoned. They want us to come as soon as possible.”
Sara flipped on a light and slid out of bed. “Did you reach Kelly yet?”
“She’s next, thought I’d ring you first since you have the longest drive.”
“Okay, I’ll be there in thirty minutes.”
The drive to Brockport seemed interminable. When she pulled into the hospital parking lot she recognized Paul getting out of his car, face grim. He must have received a similar call. Her heart sank at the slump of his shoulders.
Parking quickly, she hopped out of the car and strode as fast as the icy ground would allow to the lobby of the hospital. Both her sisters and brothers-in-law along with Paul awaited her arrival.
“Thought we would all go up together,” said Lynne, her face pale.
At times like this Sara envied her sisters their husbands. Both Tom and Kevin stood with their arms around their wives’ shoulders lending them strength and comfort. Sara could use a little of that now, herself.
As if reading her thoughts, Paul stepped to her side.
She took a deep breath and with her chin up, she said, “Let’s go up.”
When they reached Gram’s floor they were met by a nurse who ushered them into her old room. “Please wait here, the doctor will be in shortly to speak with you.”
The expression on the young doctor’s face did not bode well. Sara braced for the bad news.
“Normally, I would not bring two different families together to deliver this kind of news, but after being informed of the circumstances I deemed it appropriate to do so.” He cleared his throat before continuing. “Approximately an hour ago both Mrs. Kennedy and Mr. McOmber passed away within minutes of each other. I’m terribly sorry for your loss.”
Sara sucked in her breath, fighting the pain that struck like a baseball bat to the gut.
Paul stepped to her side and put his arm around her, grief etched his face.
The doctor gave them time to absorb the news and informed them they were welcome to take as long as they needed to make their goodbyes. He asked that they inform the nursing staff which funeral homes they would like them to contact before they left.
Dazed, everyone stood silent for a moment.
Thankfully, Tom took charge. “Shall we go?” He held out an arm toward the door.
Sara went first followed by Paul, then Kelly and Lynne, with the brothers-in-law bringing up the rear. No one said a thing when they stepped into the hospital room. Tears clogged Sara’s throat when she glanced at Gram’s empty bed then over to Jack’s where her grandmother lay curled into Jack’s side, her head on his shoulder, hand resting over his heart. She wore a peaceful expression.
A sweet sadness filled the room.
Chapter 25
“Ashes to ashes, dust to dust . . .” The minister’s final words droned on, but Sara was lost to them, her mind too full of memories. The movement of her sisters and their families triggered her return to the present and numbly she followed them from the graveside. Paul walked to her left as she made her way to her car.
Due to the unusual circumstances surrounding her grandmother and Jack, only a small family service was held at the graveside. The weather had been gracious and warmed enough to allow for the burial. Sara’s family owned eight plots located on the east side of the cemetery. Since Jack had not married and had remained faithful to the memory of their grandmother, the two families agreed that Jack be laid to rest in the plot to the left of her grandmother. Their grandfather lay to her right.
Sara turned to Paul when she reached her car. “The family’s getting together at Lynne’s house.” She reached out and touched his arm. “Please join us if you like. I know my sisters and I would love to know more about your uncle’s life.”
“I’d like that. Thank you.”
“Good. Just follow me then.”
Paul leaned forward, opened, and then closed the car door for her before making his way to his own sedan.
Sara watched him through her rearview mirror and couldn’t help but note how well his dress uniform fit. According to Gram’s description of Jack, Paul with his dark hair and mesmerizing blue eyes clearly took after his uncle. Sara couldn’t help but wonder if there was a deeply hidden flaw as well? And if so, what it was.
Lynne’s house filled rapidly with the immediate family and a few close cousins. Sara grabbed an apron and helped her sisters bring the food from the kitchen they and other relatives had prepared. Once everything was laid out, she removed her apron, poured a glass of white wine, and wandered over to where Paul stood speaking with her brother-in-law, Kevin.
Sara didn’t need to hear much to realize the conversation was sports related. She was about to turn toward her cousin when Paul excused himself and moved in her direction.
“How are you holding up?” Paul asked, concern evident in his voice.
Sara took a sip of wine. “Numb, I think. I imagine it’ll hit me about this time next week when I’m least expecting it.”
“You?”
“I’m managing. In some ways I feel a sense of relief which makes me feel guilty as hell. I hated watching him suffer and wanted him to find peace.”
“He wouldn’t want you to feel bad.”
“I know. I keep reminding myself of that.” Paul took a sip of his beer.
“When do you return to Jacksonville?”
“This weekend. Gives me a couple more days to clean out my uncle’s belongings before I turn the place over to a realtor.”
“It’s difficult, isn’t it?”
“What?”
“Sorting through the personal things, trying to decide what to keep and what to give away. I found a few more mementoes I believe came from your uncle. There’s a fancy glass top from a bottle of Parisian perfume. I think it’s from the one he bought her when they were in New York City. Grams had it stashed in one of her dresser drawers along with his photos. Also, there’s the book he gave her at Christmas, and of course, this.” She lifted the heart-shaped locket hanging around her neck and snapped it open.
Paul fingered the open locket, studying the pictures enclosed. His lips turned up slightly on one side. “So young,” he murmured. “Younger than we are now.”
He let go of the locket. “You resemble your grandmother with your auburn hair and fair complexion.”
“Not as much as you do your uncle. That could be you in the photo.”
“Or us.” His voice was husky. He cleared his throat. “When are you returning to Jacksonville?”
“I’m not sure.” She hesitated. “I’m not quite ready to let go of the house. I’m trying to decide where I belong. I’ve been thinking of buying my sisters’ shares of the place, but not sure yet. I have always liked the seasons of New York—the changing of the leaves, the first fall of snow, the flight of the geese in the spring. There are a lot of good memories here, and of course, my family. Perhaps it’s time to return home. It seems as though it’s been a long, roundabout journey to get back here.
“What about your company?”
“It’s moveable.”
“Well, I’d give it some thought. It’s never advisable to make sudden changes after such a loss.”
“I am. I’m not in any hurry, but I do feel something needs to change in my life, I just haven’t figured out what yet.”
Paul squeezed her arm. “Things have a way of working themselves out the way they should.”
Shortly after their conversation, Paul left and Sara wondered if she’d hear from him again or maybe run into him in Jacksonville. One never knew. She couldn’t decide whether the idea was comforti
ng or not. Under different circumstances, she might have liked to have gotten to know him better.
After Sara returned to Gram’s house, she fell apart. She didn’t cry for her grandmother. She was where she wanted to be—with Jack. She cried for herself. She cried because without her grandmother as her anchor, Sara wasn’t sure who she was or where she belonged. Grams had believed in her, loved her, and given her the strength to become all she could be. As long as she had been alive, Sara had known there was a place to call home, a safe place to run to if need be. Now she felt like a rudderless ship, an orphan. Both her sisters had families of their own, lives beyond their work. Sara had her work. Her work was her life, and suddenly it didn’t seem quite enough. She recalled Jack and Gram’s story, and she wondered if perhaps love might be worth the risk.
Chapter 26
Sara leaned back in her office chair and put her feet on her desk—one of the perks of being your own boss. It was Friday, and most of the staff had left. Abby, her secretary, who had gone to pick up the mail, would be the last to make an exodus, leaving Sara alone in her corner office to contemplate her day. Everyone had family or friends waiting for them, dinners to attend or make. She had nowhere to be and no one waiting. Maybe, she thought, she should get a dog.
She felt the keen loss of her grandmother. Even though she’d not visited often, home had always been just a two-hour flight away. Melancholy set in at the most inconvenient times, leaving her noncommittal about future decisions.
Spring had arrived like a lamb—whispering its hope for new life and rebirth. Sara could feel it drawing her into its wake. “Do something,” it cried.
“Here you are.” Abby set the overflowing mail bin on her desk, glanced down at it, and said wryly, “A bunch of hopefuls, I’d say. It’s all yours.”
Cherished Wings (Return to the Home Front Book 1) Page 16