by Joy Nash
Her arms felt like they wanted to detach from her body. Her grip on Sophie was weakening. “Nick. I can’t hold her anymore. I almost let her go before…. She struggled so much….”
Nick tightened his grip. “Just hold on a little while longer. You can do it, Tori.”
“She can’t die, Nick.”
“She won’t.”
“Watch out!”
They rose with a steep swell of the ocean, then dropped, roller-coaster style, into the valley behind it. The rock jetty, which had been receding, seemed to draw closer again.
“Shit,” Nick spit out. “Okay. Look. This is what we’re going to do.” He shifted onto his back, wrapping both his arms around her. “Lean into me. Let yourself go horizontal. Then kick like hell. Can you do it?”
“I think so.”
But she couldn’t. She twisted in his arms. “No. Take her, Nick.”
“What?”
“Take Sophie in without me.”
“Are you nuts?”
“You have to.”
His voice was raw. “No. We’re going in together.”
Another wave sloshed over them.
“Leave me,” she gasped. “I’m slowing you down. I can keep myself afloat until help comes.”
“Forget it.”
Her voice rose to a frightened pitch. “I…I don’t know if Sophie’s breathing, Nick. What if…what if we can’t get her out in time?”
If Sophie died, she knew Nick would never forgive himself. He’d never be able to look his brother in the eye. Sophie was part of them. Part of their family.
Tori wasn’t.
“Take her.” She shoved Sophie into his arms. Then, with a half twist, she kicked backward, out of his reach.
Their eyes met. His were dark thunderclouds, stark with fear.
“Fuck. I don’t want to do this, Tori.”
“Come back for me.”
He stared.
“I will,” he said. “I swear it.”
Then he turned with Sophie and swam for shore.
“Where?”
Jason’s bare feet pounded the wooden stairs leading to the beach. Leigh ran after him. She’d called him second, after 911, but he’d shown up first. Somehow, she’d known he would.
“There,” she yelled, pointing as they rounded the dunes. “Near the jetty.”
Two figures, yards apart. Tori was one, dangerously near the rocks. Her father was another—did he have Sophie in his arms? Jason sprinted toward the ocean. Leigh pumped her legs as hard as she could, but no way could she keep up with him.
He plunged into the surf. Leigh skidded to a stop at the waterline and fell to her knees. Waves, fueled by a stiff wind, crashed at a sharp angle to the shore. Jason sliced across them, his powerful torso blocking the spray of the breakers.
All Leigh could do was watch.
MacAllister had gone in after Tori.
The kid’s progress was a blur on the edge of Nick’s vision as he stumbled out of the waves, Sophie’s body limp in his arms. Rain pelted him; wind tore at his shirt. He fought the urge to drop to his knees and vomit.
Leigh ran to him, grabbed at his arm. “Is she…?”
“She’s not gone. Not if I can help it.” Gasping for air, he lowered Sophie to the sand and checked her breathing.
None.
In the distance, a siren wailed. Finally. “Run back and meet the EMTs. Get them out here fast.”
She nodded and took off.
He pressed a finger to Sophie’s neck. Pulse weak. Her lips were blue. She still wasn’t breathing.
He had a sudden flash of Leigh, much younger than Sophie, lying limp in his arms in just the same way. He swallowed hard. He hadn’t lost Leigh then; he wouldn’t lose Sophie now.
His focus shrank. Time slowed. He blew a series of short breaths into Sophie’s mouth. Her small chest expanded. He turned his head, listening.
“Come on, baby,” he muttered. “Don’t do this to me.”
He gave her his breath again, forcing himself to keep an even rhythm, counting off the seconds in between. Wind whipped sand into his eyes, bringing tears. Or had they been there already? He didn’t know. He wanted to look up, check Jason’s progress, make sure he’d reached Tori, but he didn’t dare lose his focus. He gave a breath, counted to three, gave another.
And then he felt Tori beside him, dropping onto the sand. She gasped, wheezing, as she filled her lungs. A wave of dizzying relief flooded him. Tori was alive. Thank God for that.
“Come on, Sophie,” he muttered, more urgently now. Blue had crept from her lips to her skin. “Breathe, damn it.”
Tears blurred his vision. Beside him, Tori was shaking. Crying. He lowered his head, giving Sophie another breath.
And she gasped. A tiny sound, but the sweetest one Nick had ever heard.
Jason dropped to his knees beside him. “Let me take over.”
Nick met the kid’s gaze And he realized for the first time that Jason didn’t have the eyes of an adolescent. He had a man’s eyes, grave and intent.
Nick nodded once and moved aside.
He reached for Tori. She was doubled over, shivering violently. He pulled her into his arms, wrapping around her like a blanket, willing whatever warmth he had left into her body.
Sophie rasped another breath. Then another.
A violent shudder shook through Tori and into Nick’s body. “I’m so cold,” she whispered.
“You’re going into shock. Where the hell are the paramedics?”
“There,” Tori said, trying to point toward the street. “They’re coming.”
It was the last thing she said before she passed out in his arms.
Chapter Thirty-one
You can’t hide your heart forever.
Not from a family that loves you.
A soft kiss brushed Tori’s forehead.
She opened her eyes. A man’s face swam into focus, cast in shadow by the dim night-light illuminating Tori’s hospital room.
She struggled to a sitting position. Had he come at last?
“Nick?”
“Nah. Only me.”
Her expectant breath left in a rush. “Johnny.”
“In the flesh.”
He grinned as he flipped on the overhead light. “Try not to look so excited. I thought you’d be happy to see another pesky Santangelo.”
Tori blinked against the sudden glare. “Of course I am.”
And she was. She’d been surrounded by Santangelos all evening, until the nurse had kicked them out at eleven, but a million lifetimes would pass before she’d ever think of all their love and concern as a nuisance.
“It’s just that I thought Nick had…” She turned her head toward the window.
“Don’t tell me my idiot brother hasn’t been in here to see you yet?”
“I guess he came to the hospital with me and Sophie, but he hasn’t been to see me since I woke up.”
“Leigh said he was a madman when they brought you in. Paced a rut in the waiting room carpet.”
Rita had told Tori the same thing. “Then why isn’t he here now?”
“I don’t know.” Johnny tried for another grin. “Want me to find him and beat him up?”
Tori couldn’t suppress a smile. “No offense, Johnny, but I’m not sure you could take him.”
“I’ll have Alex do it, then. He’s a professional. Or I could get our third-grade teacher, Sister Mary Frances, out of retirement at the old nuns’ home. She was always real good with a ruler….”
Tori tried to laugh, but it came out more like a wheeze. “Thanks, but no thanks. How’d you get in here, anyway?” She squinted at the clock. Three a.m. “It’s way past visiting hours.”
“It wasn’t hard.” He spread his arms, inviting Tori to really look at him. He wore a white lab coat over green hospital scrubs. A stethoscope dangled from his neck.
“You sneaked in dressed like a doctor?”
“Not just any doctor.” He tapped his nametag.
<
br /> “ ‘Dr. Gavin Hunter,’ ” Tori read. “ ‘Franklinville General Hospital.’ ” Her eyes widened. “Oh, my God! Does this mean you got the part?”
“Affirmative, sweetie. You’re looking at FH’s newest bad-boy surgeon.”
“Oh, Johnny, that’s wonderful!” She gave him a hug, ignoring the bedrail between them. “When do you start filming?”
“Monday.”
“What about the earrings and the stubble?” she asked, touching his chin. “I can’t imagine any surgeon looking as wild as you do.”
“Hunter does. He’s got a reputation, apparently.”
Tori laughed. “I can’t wait to see him in action.”
Johnny lowered the bedrail and sat, his weight dipping the mattress. His eyes turned grave. “I know you must’ve heard this about a thousand times, but I have to say it, too. Thank you for saving Sophie.”
Tori picked at a rip on the edge of the hospital blanket. “It was my fault she got in trouble in the first place. If I hadn’t distracted Leigh…”
“Don’t play that game, Tori. There’s never a winner. Just be glad it turned out the way it did.”
She sighed. “I guess you’re right.”
He chucked her under the chin. “As always. They’re gonna build a shrine to me someday, you know.”
Tori tried for a smile and failed. A tear escaped instead.
“Cut that out,” he chided. “You’ll be making me cry next. Think about getting out of this place—that should cheer you up. When are they springing you?”
“Later this morning. Around eleven. After the doctor checks me over.”
“Who’s minding the shop tomorrow?”
“Leigh and Rita. They’ve been so—”
Just then, a nurse bustled into the room. She took one look at Johnny and her brows collided.
Johnny raised his palms. “Don’t call the cops; I’m on my way out.” He turned to Tori before he ducked through the door.
“I’ll be back at eleven. I’ll drive you home.”
Home.
Where was that?
Nick blinked at his computer screen, but the numbers kept moving. He’d been up all night, riding a wave of raw terror he couldn’t outswim. Once he’d found out Tori and Sophie were going to be okay, he’d gone home and thrown up. Afterward, knowing he’d never sleep, he pulled on dry clothes and headed to the office.
It was only a few miles, but he’d had to pull over when the tears started coming too hard and too fast.
He’d almost lost them both.
He’d almost lost Tori.
God, it hurt to love someone this much.
He dozed, head on his desk, for an hour, maybe two. Woke up to run some bid numbers. Around four he dictated some correspondence into his handheld recorder for Doris to type up later.
Little by little, the terror receded.
His head came up when Alex walked in at six a.m., looking as haggard and worn as Nick felt.
“I thought you might be here,” his brother said, lowering his big frame into the chair facing Nick’s desk. “I didn’t get a chance to thank you last night. For saving Sophie. God. I owe you my life. I don’t know what I would’ve done if I’d lost her.”
Nick ran a hand over his face, panic clawing to the surface again.
“You would’ve done the same for Leigh. And besides, it was Tori who kept Sophie afloat.”
“I know. I’m going to fill her house with flowers. Is she coming home today? I was with Sophie all night and didn’t get to stop by her room.”
“I don’t know,” Nick said, not meeting his brother’s gaze. “I didn’t see Tori, either.”
“You didn’t? Why not?”
Nick picked up a pen, fiddled with the cap. “I…I just couldn’t,” he confessed. “I was a wreck. If I’d been there when she woke up, I would’ve lost it.”
He looked up to find Alex watching him, a slightly bemused expression on his face.
Nick frowned at him. “What?”
“You really are in love with her, aren’t you?”
“Yeah,” said Nick, rubbing the back of his neck. “I really am.”
Nonna arrived at six twenty, a bare minute after Alex had left. They must have passed in the reception area.
Nonna stepped firmly through Nick’s office door, handbag clutched to her chest. Nick got to his feet.
“Nonna. What’re you doing here?”
“Nicky, you look like five miles of bad road.”
“I love you, too, Nonna.” He frowned when Rita didn’t appear in the doorway. “Didn’t Ma bring you over?”
Nonna waved a blue-veined hand. “Nah. I walked.”
“Walked? From Bellevue Avenue?”
She settled her handbag on Nick’s desk. “Of course from Bellevue Avenue. Where else would I walk from? It ain’t that far.”
“Only two freaking miles, Nonna. Why are you here?”
She looked him over. “You know, Nicky, your manners could be better.”
He sighed.
She took the chair that Alex had vacated. “I came to talk about your girlfriend.”
“I’d rather not,” Nick said, going around the desk. “Come on; I’ll take you home.” He picked up her handbag. The thing weighed a freaking ton. “Jeez, Nonna, what’ve you got in here, bricks?”
“Nah. Just a few things I picked up.”
He wanted to throttle her. “Didn’t the necktie fiasco teach you anything? You gotta stop with the shoplifting already.”
“Who said anything about shoplifting?”
He watched her rummage through the bag, extracting items one by one. Hair spray. Breath mints. A lacy red bra, C-cup, with the price tag still attached.
Nick swore under his breath.
“Watch that mouth,” Nonna said without looking up. “It’ll get you in trouble one of these days. Ah. Here it is.” She held up a battered cardboard jeweler’s box wound with yellowed cellophane tape.
At least it didn’t look like stolen goods. “What is it?”
She placed it on his desk. “Open it and see.”
Bemused, he peeled away the ancient tape. Inside, the box was stuffed with old cotton balls. He pulled them out one by one. And stared at what lay underneath.
A simple, worn band of gold. One he remembered seeing on Nonna’s left hand all the years of his childhood.
His throat suddenly thickened. “I can’t take this.”
Nonna snorted. “It’s not for you. It’s for Tori.”
“But this is your wedding ring.”
“Not mine anymore. It belongs to your fiancée.”
“Tori and I aren’t engaged.” But his fingers tightened on the box.
“You will be,” Nonna said smugly. “Remember I told you I was gonna light a two-dollar candle for you at St. Michael’s and pray for you to find a wife? Well, I lit three two-dollar candles.”
“Nonna, I don’t care if you lit enough two-dollar candles to burn the whole freaking church down. Tori and I…” He let out a breath. “I’ve treated her badly. I’m not sure she even wants to talk to me anymore.”
“Then you go talk to her, Nicky. Don’t let her get away. She’s good for you. She makes you feel things.”
“And what’s so great about that?” he muttered. He picked up the ring, examining it more closely.
“Look inside,” Nonna said.
He tilted it into the light. The inscription was in Italian, in spidery letters.
Mia vita nelle tue mani.
My life in your hands.
His head came up, a thought striking hard. “Why didn’t you give me this for Cindy?”
“That wife of yours?” Nonna snorted. “Good wine don’t come from bad grapes, Nicky. I knew that girl was no good. I told your mother your marrying her would be a mistake.”
“I never knew that.”
“Would you have listened if I told you?”
He shook his head. “No. Cindy was carrying my child.”
“Tha
t’s right. And you wanted that baby, Nicky. More than anything.”
And he had, he realized, stunned. He’d wanted Leigh more than he’d wanted Cindy, more than he’d wanted college, more than he’d wanted a glamorous career as a big-city architect. Leigh’s birth hadn’t ruined his life. It had given him purpose, and made him the man he was today. It was the fear of losing her that had torn him apart.
“You can’t hide your heart forever, Nicky. Not from a family that loves you. You have to show them your tears.”
She stood and started repacking her handbag. The ring glinted in Nick’s palm.
You have to show them your tears.
His fingers closed, the ring pressing a circle into his palm.
“Wait, Nonna. I’ll drive you home. I’m going in that direction anyway.”
Stopped at a traffic light after dropping Nonna at home, Nick punched Johnny’s number on his cell. Johnny answered just as the light turned green.
“Yo.”
“Johnny, it’s Nick.”
“Nick?” A pause. “Dude. What d’ya need?”
Nick swallowed. “Ma told me you got the soap part.”
“Yeah. Yeah, I did.”
“Congratulations.” He paused. “I’m proud of you, you know.”
Dead silence. Then, “You are?”
Johnny’s voice was uncertain, the way it had been when he was younger, and Nick was the closest thing he’d had to a father.
“Yeah, I am. When’s the show air, anyway?”
“Weekday afternoons at one. But don’t tell me you’re actually going to watch it.”
“Are you kidding? My little brother’s on freaking tele vision. I wouldn’t miss it for the world.”
Several more beats of silence passed.
“Thanks,” Johnny said. His voice was strangely hoarse. Then, “Nick? Can I ask you something?”
“What?”
“What’re you doing this morning at eleven?”
“Dad! What are you doing here?”
Leigh tried to step in front of Jason, which was ridiculous, really. It wasn’t as if her father could miss him. Behind her, Jason gave a soft snort. He placed his hands on her shoulders and eased her aside.
Her dad’s eyes flicked toward Jason, then back to her. “I thought Mimi was going to help you with Tori’s shop this morning.”