by Joan Kilby
“Thanks.” Sienna hurried past the packed waiting room. One bed of the three-bed ward she’d been directed to was occupied by an elderly woman. A young boy with a bandaged head lay in another bed, looking at a book with his mother. In the third bed lay Steve Thatcher.
Steve, gray-faced and eyes shut, had been raised into a sitting position, an IV unit dripping saline into his left hand. Heart rate, oxygen saturation and blood pressure monitors beeped quietly in the background.
Jack sat beside the bed. He hadn’t noticed her yet and she had a moment to watch him unguarded. But what she saw scared her. His eyes were hollow and his face drawn. Although his gaze was fixed on his comatose father, he seemed to be looking inward.
Sienna wanted to go to him, to comfort him.
Then he looked up and saw her. The blank hollow look filled with anger and accusation.
Sienna avoided Jack’s gaze and kept a tight grip on her emotions. She moved past him to press her fingers to Steve’s wrist. Pulse—130. Gently she lifted a thin wrinkled eyelid. His pupil didn’t contract. Unresponsive. She moved to the end of the bed to check his chart. The admitting doctor had noted severe dehydration. Steve’s blood glucose reading was through the roof.
Finally she turned to Jack. “What happened?”
“He walked over to the Shed and more or less collapsed. Sweating profusely, blurred vision… Why didn’t you tell me he had diabetes?”
“Doctor-patient confidentiality. And it was never confirmed. I did try to warn you. Do you know if he’s eaten or drunk anything this morning?”
“He hadn’t eaten when he got to my place. I gave him a piece of cake—”
“Cake? That’s the worst thing you could have given him.”
“I didn’t know! How could you let a man this sick run around?”
“He wasn’t this sick when I examined him,” Sienna said. “How did he look before he ate the cake?”
“Not great.” Jack ran a hand over his face. “As I said, his vision was blurry, he had trouble walking, his breathing was rapid…”
“He must have already been suffering from high blood sugar levels.” Sienna chewed on her lip, frowning.
“He told me he’d been eating a lot of cookies and ice cream.” Sienna glanced sharply at Jack. “My mother’s still away,” he explained. “Steve’s angry at her.”
“This could be a bid to get her to come home,” Sienna said, recalling things Steve had said about Hetty. “Have you called her?”
Jack nodded wearily. “The leaders of the retreat wouldn’t let me speak to her. She’s taking part in five days of silence.”
“Give me the number,” Sienna said. “I’ll talk to them.”
“If he was lonely he could have come to my house anytime,” Jack said, fishing the scrap of paper out of his wallet. “He knows that.”
Sienna took the phone number. “It’s Hetty he wants.”
“It’s bloody childish if you ask me.” Jack gazed at his father and shook his head. “If he was trying to punish her it was dumb. He only hurt himself.” He turned back to Sienna. “What’s going to happen to him?”
“He’ll stay in the hospital for a few days until he stabilizes,” Sienna said. “The doctors here will check him for damage to his kidneys and retinas. He’ll have to go on medication to regulate his blood sugar levels, at least for a while.”
“I offered him porridge, eggs…” Jack trailed off, watching his father.
“I should have tried harder to convey my concerns to you.” Sienna checked Steve’s pulse and blood pressure again. His eyelids fluttered occasionally but stayed closed, his breathing was labored and his fingers twitched now and then. His condition was serious but appeared to be stable. There was nothing more she could do for now. The nurses would monitor him and administer the meds as needed.
Sienna glanced at her watch. “I have to get back to the clinic. I have a cancer patient waiting.”
“I’ll walk you out,” Jack said. “I could use some air.”
Sienna retraced her steps through the hospital and out the doors of the E.R. to the parking lot. Jack walked silently at her side. She paused beside her car. “Jack, is there something else?”
“I— Forget it. It’s history.”
“Tell me. Please.” Whether it was for her sake or his that she wanted him to confide in her, she had no idea. She was confused about a lot of things but she knew he was hurting, and that was painful to her.
“Seeing my dad like that, cold and gray as death, brought it all back.”
“Brought what back?” she prompted.
“Don’t you have a patient?”
“I’ve got a minute.”
“Okay.” He drew in a deep breath. “Leanne was pregnant when she died.”
Pregnant. Sienna’s heart contracted. “Oh, Jack.” She slipped her hand into his and squeezed.
“When we left on that flight to Merimbula for the weekend I didn’t know,” he went on. “She was excited about something and begged to go with me. I tried to put her off because I was testing the GPS and needed to focus on the instruments. But…” He cleared his throat. “She could be so damned persistent.”
His face worked as he fought for control. It was a moment before he could continue. “She didn’t tell me until we were on the way home. Then I was excited, too. We were making plans, talking and laughing. I didn’t pay enough attention to the instrument panel.”
Sienna felt his anguish like a physical pain in her chest. “It was an accident. A tragic accident. Life is short. Too short to punish yourself.”
“I’ve never told anyone else this,” Jack added, sounding bewildered he was doing it now. “The coroner knew, of course, but no one else.”
“Why not?”
“Everyone loved Leanne. My sisters, our friends and of course her family. I didn’t want to add to anyone’s grief. It seemed easier to let the baby die a secret.”
“So you’ve carried this for three years all by yourself?”
He glanced away, blinking.
She raised a hand to his cheek and slowly turned his face until he was forced to meet her gaze. “You didn’t kill Leanne. You didn’t kill your baby. It’s a tragedy, but it’s not your fault.”
“I know.” He dragged in a breath. “I just haven’t been able to let it go.”
Tears filled her eyes. “You’re a good man, Jack. The best.”
Suddenly she knew that his occupation, or lack of it, didn’t matter to her anymore. She loved him. Whether he ran his own business, won a Nobel Prize, got a bunch of unemployed men interested in life or just kayaked around the bay all day every day.
How could she not have understood that before?
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
THE SUMMERSIDE CEMETERY was deserted when Jack arrived just before sunset. The row of tall cypresses around the perimeter stood starkly black against the pink-and-gold western sky. He’d brought red roses for Leanne and a spray of yellow carnations for the baby.
“Hey, Leanne.” He placed the roses, then stood at the foot of the grave with his head bowed in a short prayer. Lifting his head again, he said, “I’m going to put our baby’s name on the headstone with yours. I should have done it long ago.”
Jack swallowed. “How does Theodore John sound? Those were two of the names we talked about that day—” He broke off, blinking rapidly. “Oh, God,” he said, his throat thick. “Forgive me, Leanne.”
The wind moved the heavy cypress branches. A magpie called. An answering warble came on the breeze. Jack breathed a deep shuddering sigh and wiped his face with his forearm. “I’ll take that as a sign. You always did have a soft spot for those bloody magpies.”
He looked at the other bouquet in his hands. “Theodore John, I’m so sorry I never met you. Take care of your mum.”
He set the carnations next to the roses and listened as the silence settled over the graveyard. The sun sank below the horizon and the wind died.
After a moment he spoke again. “You know
I’ll always love you, Leanne. But it’s time for me to start again. I think you’d be the first to tell me that. You’d like Sienna. She’s fearless about doing what she believes is right.” He smiled. “Even when she’s wrong.”
As he slowly walked away from Leanne’s grave he lifted his eyes from the thick green grass to the wide sturdy trunks of the cypresses and their dark spreading limbs. By the time his gaze reached the blue-black sky where the evening star twinkled, he felt almost light enough to fly.
His steps quickened with a new sense of purpose, carrying him back to the Shed. He had work to do.
SIENNA PLACED A BAG OF potatoes in her basket and moved along the vegetable display in the greengrocery. Shopping and cooking for herself wasn’t exactly inspirational. Maybe she’d invite Lexie to have dinner with her after her sitting this afternoon. If Lexie wasn’t going to Jack’s for dinner, that was.
Sienna studied the zucchini, trying to decide whether to buy the green or the yellow variety. Then she heard a rich deep male laugh coming from the other side of the shop. Jack. She hadn’t seen him since two days ago in the hospital. Or talked to him aside from a brief phone call to say that she’d been able to pass the message to Hetty about Steve’s illness.
Furtively she tucked her braided hair over her shoulder and made as little movement as possible so as not to draw attention to herself. Yep, it was him, leaning on his trolley and joking with Mrs. Johnson from the seniors’ home as if he hadn’t a care in the world. Obviously he wasn’t nursing a broken heart.
Placing one green and one yellow zucchini in her basket, she circled around behind the central display of cut flowers. If she went through the rear checkout she could slip out through the loading dock without him seeing her.
“Sienna.”
She turned slowly, pasting on a smile, steeling herself against those dark intelligent eyes that could be both compassionate and passionate, that ready grin whose crooked curves were full of humor and sex appeal. He wore a fitted shirt that hugged his broad shoulders and tapered to a narrow waist and hips. His thick tousled hair was still damp from a shower—or more likely a swim in the ocean. A stab of pain hit her hard to think of what she’d had and lost.
“Jack!” she said brightly. “Fancy meeting you here.”
“My home away from home.” He didn’t seem to know what to do with his hands.
“Steve’s being released from the hospital on Monday,” Sienna said. Of course, Jack would know that.
He nodded. “Hetty’s coming home on Sunday.”
“I hope they sort out their problems.”
Several beats went by. She couldn’t drag her eyes away from his. Casting about, she came up with a lame “I hear the Men’s Shed has a big project.”
“News travels fast,” Jack said. “Paul only came in with the tender this week.”
“Lexie mentioned it when she called to see if I could sit for her this afternoon.”
“And are you? Sitting, that is?”
“Yes.” Sienna gripped the plastic handle of her basket. “I don’t have to wear the toga anymore, thank goodness.”
“How’s Oliver?”
So. They were going to hit every painful subject before she could get out of here. “He’s at his dad’s for the term break. But he’s coming back to school here. He’s finishing grade twelve. And then we’ll see.”
“Are you happy with that?”
“I can live with it. I’m going to have to if I don’t want my son to run away to join the circus.”
“I want to thank you for that day in the parking lot,” Jack said. “The things you said helped me move on in my life.”
“I’m glad.” She smiled. “I really better go. Lexie’s expecting me.”
“It’s Saturday. Do you want to come to dinner tonight?”
“I…uh…” She longed to say yes. “Thanks but I’ve got other plans.”
“That’s too bad. I was going to make something special.”
“Sorry.” And she was sorry. But that didn’t mean she could endure an evening with his friends, pretending she was enjoying herself, all the while aching for what might have been. “Another time.”
“Sure.”
The way he said it, she knew he wouldn’t ask again.
“SO HOW’S JACK?” Lexie squeezed a worm of vermillion paint onto her palette and spread an edge of it into a blob of ocher.
“Fine, I guess.” On a dais in the center of the room, Sienna fidgeted on her chair. Lexie had blocked in the toga and was working on the head, so Sienna was thankfully able to stay in her normal clothes. She didn’t feel like talking about Jack.
“He said he was going to invite you to dinner tonight.” Lexie took a brush and mixed the two colors.
“He did, but I can’t go.”
“Too bad.” Lexie scrutinized her in that unnerving way she had, as if she was looking straight through to Sienna’s soul, when in reality she was probably analyzing the distance from her upper lip to the bottom of her nose.
“I’ve hardly seen him this week,” Lexie went on, making a few swift strokes on the canvas. “He’s been so busy.”
“He got the Men’s Shed running again.”
“As well as a project of his own he’s working on.”
“A project?” Sienna repeated, her ears pricking. It really didn’t matter to her what he did with his time, as long as he was happy. But just privately, she still believed that having a goal he was working toward would bring him the most satisfaction.
“It’s top secret,” Lexie said. “He won’t even tell me and Renita. But he’s been at it night and day.”
Could it be the GPS? Sienna wondered with a surge of excitement. “Are you going over there for dinner tonight?”
Lexie tossed the rag and loaded up her brush with paint. “He didn’t invite me.”
“Really.” That was odd. “I thought you and Renita had a standing invitation.”
Lexie gave her a sly smile. “Maybe he wanted a quiet dinner for two.”
“Do you think so? I just assumed there would be the usual crowd.” Sienna felt a faint stirring of hope. Maybe she was giving up too easily. But no, he’d been so angry at her over Olly. She wondered what he would say if she told him Oliver really had cheated. But she wouldn’t do that to Olly. Loyalty was important to her, too.
Lexie motioned her to move to the left. “Turn just a little…that’s good.”
From her new vantage point Sienna saw a flash of dark hair pass the window. Her heart kicked into over- drive. Then it dropped back into low gear as Renita knocked and entered.
“Hey, ladies,” Renita said. “Hope you don’t mind, Lexie. Jack told me Sienna was going to be here and I wanted to ask her about the latest on Dad.”
“You’re forgiven this time,” Lexie said.
Renita turned to Sienna. “Is he going to be okay?”
“He’s had a scare, but he’ll be fine.”
“That’s a relief.” Renita removed a stack of empty frames from a chair and sat. “What’s the deal with his condition? Can you fill us in so we can help him get healthy?”
Sienna gave them a brief rundown on type 2 diabetes. “Once he gets his blood sugar stabilized, it’s mainly diet and exercise.”
“Mum will have to help him watch his diet,” Renita said. “And I’m sure Jack will make him exercise.”
“It’s up to Dad to make sure he’s doing the right thing,” Lexie said. “Mum’s got her own life.”
“How do you think he got to this state?” Renita argued. “She took off and left him.”
“Lexie’s right,” Sienna inserted quickly. “Steve needs to understand his condition and take responsibility. But—” she nodded to Renita “—Hetty can help and encourage him.”
“If their marriage holds up,” Lexie said quietly.
“I had no idea they were having problems,” Renita agreed, subdued. “You just expect your parents to always be there, like the furniture.”
“Hetty will b
e home soon,” Sienna said, trying to put an optimistic spin on the situation. “That’s a good start.”
“I’d better go,” Renita said, looking at her watch. “I’ve got a hot date.” She grinned as she rose and salsa’d the few steps to the door. “I’m going dancing.”
So she wasn’t going to Jack’s, either, Sienna thought. Could Lexie be right, that Jack had planned a special dinner for two?
Lexie glanced at the clock. “Is it that late? No wonder the light is fading. Sienna, we’ll have to finish for today.”
“That’s okay.” Sienna slipped her jacket on and gathered her purse. “I’ve got to go anyway.”
“What are you doing tonight?” Lexie asked.
“I’m not sure.” But she wasn’t going home to her empty house to eat potatoes and zucchini.
Her problem, she mused as she drove across town, was that she kept underestimating Jack. Look at the way he’d reacted to the phony dinner she’d served at her party. He hadn’t been angry at her then for not being perfect. So why did she think he would give up on her now? He’d said he loved her in spite of her flaws. She had to find out if he really meant it. That no matter what stupid thing she did today he’d still be with her tomorrow. Even Erica thought that if he loved her, he would forgive her.
It was only five o’clock. It wouldn’t even be dark for a couple hours yet. Way too soon to arrive for dinner, but if she was wrong and other guests were coming she had some things she wanted to say before the hordes descended.
Words and explanations were tumbling through her mind, so she didn’t notice right away that Jack was coming out of his driveway at the same time as she turned in. She slammed on the brakes, almost crashing head-on into his utility truck.
Sienna waited a moment until her heartbeat slowed. Then, deliberately, she turned off the ignition and pulled on the hand brake. Jack Thatcher wasn’t going anywhere.
Jack climbed out of his ute to check the front end. Their bumpers were just touching. “You’re damn lucky.”
“I’m lucky? You almost scratched my chrome.” This wasn’t quite the way she’d envisaged sweet-talking her way back into his life.
“Did you want something?” he asked. “I’m in a hurry.”