Luke pulled her into his arms. "He's not gone, Jenny. He's going to make it. You have to have faith."
"How can I? It's been three days. How can I go on without him? He's just a little boy, but he's my life."
Luke shut his eyes as he closed his arms around her waist. He wanted to cry with her, but she needed him to be strong, and this much he could give her.
"Everyone I've ever loved has gone away," Jenny said. "My mother, then you, now Danny. What did I do wrong, Luke?" She lifted her head. "Why am I being punished?"
"You didn't do anything wrong."
"I must have. Merrilee says I screw up everything."
"Merrilee doesn't know what she's talking about."
"My father thinks I'm a slut."
"Jenny, stop."
"And your parents. What was it your mother called me -- a silly, foolish girl? Everyone can't be wrong."
"I never thought you were any of those things."
"Then why did you leave me? Why did you break us up? We were so damn good together." It was a question she had wanted to ask him for years. Now, it burst out of her before she could stop it.
"I was afraid. My parents had such high expectations. I didn't want to disappoint them. We were young, Jenny, kids. We didn't know what love was."
"I did. I loved you more than anyone else on this earth." The confession came from her soul, and it felt good. She needed to get it out in the open, so the wound could heal. "I gave my heart, my soul, and my body to you. Maybe you thought I gave it lightly, but I didn't."
"I know you didn't."
"You just couldn't love me back the way I loved you."
"No, because I wasn't as generous or as courageous. You were the only rebellion of my life. The only time I was my own person were those two months with you."
Jenny stared at him in amazement. "I can't believe that."
"Why not?"
"Because you made your own decisions. You chose to get married to someone else."
"She was part of the plan, Jenny." Luke ran a hand through his hair. "Denise is not a bad person. It's not her fault that -- "
"That what?"
"That she's not you."
Jenny felt herself being sucked into a whirlpool of feeling. Logically, she knew she couldn't let it happen. Emotions were high because of Danny. Everything was more intense because of the danger of losing him.
Luke lowered his head. His eyes narrowed. He was going to kiss her. And she wanted him to.
No!
She had to remember who she was, and who Luke was, and how much he had hurt her the first time around.
Slowly, she disengaged herself from his arms.
"Jenny."
She held up a hand. "Don't say anything. Just go." Her voice shook. "I can't do this with you."
"What about Danny's room?"
"Tomorrow or next week or next month, when it's light out, when I can remember that you're married, and we mean nothing to each other."
"Nothing, Jenny?" Luke tilted up her chin and looked deep into her eyes. "You never used to lie to me."
Chapter Eighteen
"Don't lie to me, Matt. I want to know where you were Friday night." Alan sat down on the edge of the sofa while Matt tossed back another beer.
"I went to the Acapulco Lounge and had a few brews. What's it to you?"
"The bartender says you were drunk when you left."
Matt swore under his breath and set his bottle of Bud down on the coffee table, next to last month's issue of Sports Illustrated. There was a photograph of the new 49er quarterback on the cover of the magazine, with a headline proclaiming him football's newest rising star.
Matt had a similar cover buried away in his desk drawer, a painful reminder of everything he had lost. He wished he could go back to the days when everyone had believed he was a winner, including himself. But they were gone forever.
"Well," Alan persisted.
Matt sat back in his chair. "Why don't you just tell me where you think I was?"
Alan's eyes narrowed. "Don't make me say it, Matt."
"Why the fuck not?" he demanded, tired of the cat-and-mouse game. "Who do you think you are anyway?"
"I'm your sister's boyfriend, the man she's going to marry, and the man who's going to find the bastard who ran over Danny."
Matt jerked to his feet. "You think I would hit my own nephew?"
Alan stood up. Face to face, they were almost of equal height, but Alan was broader in the shoulders, stockier through the thighs. His face was square and rugged, the look in his eyes determined.
Matt dropped back, his quarterback instincts coming to the fore. Alan pressed forward like a defensive lineman smelling an easy sack. There was no one to block, no one to protect him, and not one damn thing he could say in his defense -- well, maybe one.
"I was with Brenda," Matt said. "Brenda Charming. She's a flight attendant. We spent the night together."
Alan looked somewhat disappointed at this piece of news. "Charming, huh. Where do I find this Brenda Channing?"
"I don't know. She said something about Tokyo."
"Really. Interesting."
"Is that it?" Matt asked, eager to get Alan out of his house. He had never particularly liked the man. He thought Alan was an awfully cold fish for his warmhearted sister, but if Jenny liked him, that was all that mattered. He had wanted her to be happy for a long time.
Matt just wished she had chosen someone different, someone who didn't look at him like he was a piece of dog shit on the bottom of a shoe. Hell, didn't Alan know he had once taken the 49ers to a division championship? He was important. He deserved to be treated with respect.
"I'd like to see your car," Alan said.
Matt's puff of confidence vanished as quickly as it had appeared. "Uh -- my car's not here. It's at a friend's house."
"Fine. Let's go to your friend's house."
"He's not home."
"What's his name?"
"Why do you want to know?"
"Why don't you want to tell me?" Alan wrinkled his nose as if smelling the scent of guilt.
Matt tried to look unconcerned. "I just don't see the point of this conversation. Does Jenny know you're here?"
"Where's your car, Matt?" Alan grabbed him by the collar. "Tell me where your car is."
"I don't know. Okay? I don't know!" Matt yelled, knocking Alan's hands away from him.
"What are you saying?"
"I'm saying, asshole, that I don't know where my car is, and that I can't remember what the hell I did on Friday night after I left the Acapulco Lounge."
"Jesus, Matt. What are you using for brains these days?"
Matt picked up his beer, and took a defiant sip. "What do you think?"
Alan grabbed the bottle out of his hand and threw it against the fireplace, shattering it into a hundred pieces of glass. "I think you better get a lawyer."
* * *
Tuesday, four days since the accident -- two days before Thanksgiving. Merrilee stared at the calendar in dismay. So much to do. So little time. So little desire. She'd always loved decorating the house, baking pies, stuffing turkey. It was something she had shared with her mother, a tradition that she carried on for her family.
Her family -- what a mess they were in.
Merrilee turned her attention to the task at hand.
She rolled out the pie dough, picked it up and flipped it onto the other side, pushing it around in the flour so it wouldn't stick to the board.
"Mother, I'm going to the library to work on my book report," Constance said.
Merrilee looked up in surprise. "Ifs almost dinnertime. I thought you wanted to help me with the pies."
"You don't need my help. You don't need anyone's help." Constance stared at her defiantly. "Don't say I can't go."
"You can't go."
"Mother."
"It's raining out. It's cold."
"Thanks for the weather report. So what?"
"Don't speak to me like that.
I'm your mother. I deserve better. And besides, I don't believe you're going to the library at all. It's that boy, isn't it? The one who calls after midnight when you think I'm asleep."
Constance stared at her in shock. "How do you know ... are you listening in on my calls?"
"No. But I probably should be." Merrilee looked at her daughter and felt the anger drain out of her. She loved this willful, often disrespectful child, because she still remembered the sweet little girl who had read with her and laughed with her and sung silly songs while she cooked dinner every night. Where had that little girl gone? Teenage hell. Now, everything was a fight, a battle for territory, for respect, for independence.
Merrilee didn't know how to let go, and since Danny's accident her sense of protectiveness had increased. "I don't want anything to happen to you," she said. "Don't you understand that?"
"Nothing's going to happen to me," Constance replied with the confidence of youth.
Merrilee wiped her hands on a dish towel. "Sit down, Constance."
Constance sighed and slumped into a chair at the kitchen table.
"We need to talk," Merrilee said. "Tell me about this boy. What's his name? Where does he live?"
"He's just a guy at school. You wouldn't know him."
"Why don't you invite him over for dinner one night?"
Constance snorted her disgust. "Yeah, right. Like he'd want to come here and be totally depressed."
"I know things have been tense lately," Merrilee said, "but aren't you worried about Danny, too? Maybe -- " Merrilee stopped talking as the phone rang. "I better get that. It might be Jenny. Don't go anywhere. We're not done."
Merrilee walked over to the phone and picked it up. "Hello? Matt, what's wrong?" She paused, shock rippling through her body at his words. "Alan wants to arrest you? For what? Oh, my God. I'll be right there."
"I thought we were going to talk," Constance said as Merrilee grabbed her purse.
"I can't. I have to help Matt. You stay here with William. I'll be back as soon as I can."
"What about the library? What about my life?"
Merrilee didn't answer. She couldn't think about Constance's social life right now, not with this latest piece of bad news. What on earth would go wrong next?
* * *
"Danny isn't responding to commands," Jenny said as Luke joined her outside Danny's hospital room. Through the glass she could see Dr. Lowenstein moving Danny's arms and legs.
"Maybe he just doesn't like to take orders," Luke said lightly. "I know you never did."
She tried to smile. "Nice try." She stepped toward the door as Dr. Lowenstein left Danny's room.
"Well?" Jenny said.
"He's holding his own," Dr. Lowenstein replied, obviously trying to put a positive spin on Danny's lack of progress.
Dr. Lowenstein turned to Luke, a curious look on his face. He didn't say a word, just shook his head as if struck by a strange thought.
"Something wrong?" Luke asked.
"It's none of my business." Dr. Lowenstein handed Danny's chart to the nurse, who was also watching them with unabashed curiosity.
Suddenly Jenny knew what was going on. It was Luke and Danny. They had seen the resemblance. Her first thought was to warn Luke, to protect him. Her second thought was to let him hang. If he really wanted to be Danny's father, he would have to take the good with the bad.
"Jenny?"
She looked into Luke's eyes and saw the awareness, the unspoken question. "It's up to you," she said.
"I have to go," Dr. Lowenstein said. "I'll catch up with you later."
"Wait. There's something you should know." Luke paused. "I'm more than just a friend of the family. I'm Danny's father."
The nurse gasped. Dr. Lowenstein looked surprised but not completely shocked. Luke looked downright proud.
"It's none of my business," Dr. Lowenstein said, "but I must say the resemblance is very strong. If you'll excuse me." He conferred with the nurse in a quiet voice, then left.
Jenny pulled Luke into Danny's room. "Are you sure you wanted to do that?"
"Danny's my son. I don't care if the whole world knows."
"I have a feeling they're going to," Jenny replied.
"This could hurt you, Luke -- your reputation, your family, your company. The press loves a scandal. And an illegitimate child is certainly the makings of one."
Luke shrugged. "To hell with my reputation. I've spent thirty-five years worrying about what people will think. Right now the only opinions I care about are Danny's and yours."
"What about your wife? Your parents?"
"What about 'em?" Luke snapped his fingers. "Say, is that hamburger joint still out on the coast? What was the name?"
"Bill's Burger Shack?"
"That's the one -- with chili so hot it could burn the roof off your mouth."
"It's still there. Old Bill's nearing seventy, but he says he'll never retire."
"Let's go there. Let's get a burger and sit on the beach and take a break from all this." Luke waved his hand around the room.
Jenny hesitated. "I don't know. Maybe I should stay."
"I've got a beeper, Jenny. If Danny's condition changes, they can page us."
"We'll be twenty minutes away."
"It's only dinner. You need to get out of here. And we need to talk."
"All right. I do have to eat."
"Yes, you do." Luke wrote down the beeper number for the nurse, and they walked out of ICU.
As they passed the pay phone, Jenny paused. "Maybe I should call and let someone know where I am.
"Someone? You mean your fiance?"
"Alan is not really my fiance. He said that to -- "
"To stake his claim."
"No."
"Yes."
Jenny sighed. "This is a guy thing, right?"
Luke smiled. "Maybe."
"Well, whatever. Alan and I are not engaged. We've been dating each other, seriously, but we haven't made any plans for the future. Anyway, he's at work, so I don't need to call him."
Luke pushed the button for the elevator. "Alan -- he's a cop, right?"
"Yes, he's trying to find out who hit Danny."
"Any leads?"
Jenny shook her head. "I don't think so."
"I hope they catch the bastard."
"So do I."
* * *
"My mother first brought me here when I was about ten," Jenny said to Luke as she popped the last of her chili burger into her mouth. They were sitting in a small patio at the back of Bill's Burger Shack. The splintered wooden table in front of them was covered with hundreds of initials carved into the weather- beaten wood.
Jenny had so many memories of this place, times with her mother, with Luke, and with Danny. She crinkled the hamburger wrapper between her fingers until it was a tight ball, then pitched it toward the trash can. It fell short.
"Story of my life," she said, attempting a smile. "A day late and a dollar short. Anyway, my mom loved these burgers because they were hot and spicy. My dad wouldn't come near this place. He's a vanilla kind of guy."
"There's nothing wrong with vanilla," Luke protested. "It's my favorite flavor."
"I thought raspberry swirl was your favorite flavor."
He smiled at her. "I only said that to impress you. I knew you'd think I was boring if I ordered vanilla."
"And I thought I knew you so well."
"You did know me, better than anyone."
Jenny looked down at the table, his intimate words making her tense. "I wonder if our initials are still here. I remember the night we carved them. You, of course, just happened to have a pen knife on your key chain along with a survival kit that would put any true Boy Scout to shame."
"I liked to be prepared. Of course, once in a while I slipped up."
He met her eyes, and she knew he was remembering the night they had made love without any protection, because the condom had broken, and neither one of them had wanted to stop. It had been irresponsib
le, reckless, the way Jenny had lived most of her life. For Luke it had been an aberration, an exception to the rule.
Her heartbeat increased with the memory of their passion. It had been hotter than the chili she had eaten tonight, fiery, intense. The only thing in her life that had ever been perfect.
"It's right there," Luke said, pointing to her end of the table.
"Where?"
"By your hand."
Jenny looked down, but didn't see it, maybe because her eyes were blurred with memories. Luke touched her hand. His fingers covered hers as he pressed their palms against a tiny heart.
JS and LS forever.
Jenny gulped back a rush of emotion. Forever had only meant two months, two short months. "It was a silly thing to write, wasn't it?" She walked over to the trash can and picked up her wrapper.
Luke followed her. "Not silly, innocent. I'm glad we had that time together. I wouldn't have missed it for the world."
She had always wondered what he thought -- if he remembered them at all -- and if he did remember, if it was with fondness or regret.
Luke took her arm. "Let's walk, Jenny. It looks like the path to the beach is still there, even if it is overgrown."
"I don't know. Maybe we should go back."
"You? Turning down a walk on the beach? Is nothing sacred?"
She smiled. "I admit, I love the ocean. It brings me peace."
"Then let it bring you peace tonight. Walk with me.
This time, Luke led the way down the path, and Jenny followed, reluctantly accepting his hand over the rocky terrain. When they reached the end of the path, Jenny slipped off her shoes and carried them in one hand.
They walked silently for a time. Jenny listened to the sound of the waves and began to relax. There was a certain rhythm to the ocean, a monotony of sound that comforted her, because it never ended.
"That's where we had the bonfire." Jenny pointed to an empty spot of sand. Tonight there was a beer bottle lying on the ground. She picked it up. "Kids," she said. She carried the bottle until they reached a trash can, then tossed it in.
They walked on, by silent accord, going to the place where it had all begun. When they got there, the magical pool was gone, covered by the sea.
Daniel's Gift Page 19