On the ride back into the city, they’d talked a bit about plans for the future, both of them shying away from the long-term and focusing on the day-to-day. Danny wanted to stay with Minnie until school ended, if she agreed. He wouldn’t have to change schools and would be closer to the hospital. But he would spend weekends with Chase, giving her a break. Neither of them mentioned the summer or a time when Emily would no longer be there.
When Chase had dropped Danny off at Minnie’s, there’d been a moment when Chase thought Danny expected a goodbye hug. But Chase held back, recalling himself at the same age and the embarrassment of public displays of affection. So they’d shaken hands, instead.
It was amazing how the mind adapts, Chase thought. Three weeks ago he had no clue how his life was about to change. His only connection to family was his weekly visit to a mother who no longer knew him. He hadn’t been involved romantically with a woman since his sojourn in Alaska, and when he’d found out his mother had Alzheimer’s and was in a nursing home, he’d left the state and the relationship quickly and permanently. Proving what he suspected about himself long ago—the whole idea of commitment to a family structure terrified him. One dysfunctional family in a lifetime was more than enough. Why risk it happening again?
Now he had a twelve-year-old son. The start of a family. The idea attracted and frightened him at the same time.
The doorbell drew him from the workroom to the front of the shop. Chase froze when he saw the man in a business suit looming inside the doorway. It had been years since he’d seen his cousin and, although Howard Sullivan had filled out considerably, Chase immediately recognized the patronizing smirk.
“Nice place you got here, Chase,” said Howard. “Long time no see.” He moved forward, extending his right hand.
Unless Howard had undergone a huge personality change, Chase knew the gesture was pure formality. And considering their last meeting, hypocrisy, as well. “What do you want?” he asked.
The other man dropped his hand. “Not very friendly for cousins.”
“Cut it, Howard.”
“Sure. Okay by me. It’s not as if we were ever close.”
“So, what do you want?” Chase repeated.
“The old man wants to talk to you. Got a minute?”
“What about?”
“I’ll let him tell you.”
“Where is he?”
“Outside in the car.”
“Tell him to come in, then.”
“He can’t. Bad legs. He’s got diabetes and a heart condition. Be better if you came out to him.”
“I’m working.”
“Don’t look too busy to me. C’mon, it won’t take long. Then you can get back to your work.” The sneer summed up his opinion of Chase’s vocation.
There was no point in arguing. “Give me a second.” He returned to the workroom to turn off the carving tool he’d been using. The sudden appearance of his cousin and uncle in almost two years was no coincidence. He had a sinking feeling the impromptu visit was connected to Skye Sorrenti, which meant that Sam had either been unable or unwilling to act on his request. He hoped the former, hating to think he’d misjudged her.
“Best lock up,” his cousin said as Chase followed him out. “We’re taking a little drive.”
Chase flipped the sign to Closed and locked the door.
There was a large black Cadillac sitting at the curb. The front passenger-side window rolled down and Howard’s brother, Terence, greeted him. Like his brother, Terence had grown in girth, though his receding hairline and wire-rimmed glasses gave him an air of maturity his brother lacked.
Chase hesitated. There was an implicit threat in the whole scene. His cousins had always been bullies, who had refined veneers they assumed in social settings. But he doubted his uncle would permit any harm to come to him. At any rate, there seemed little choice but to do as instructed. He opened the rear door nearest the sidewalk and climbed inside.
“Uncle Bryant,” he said as Howard closed the door behind him and walked around to the driver’s side.
“Chase,” Bryant Sullivan rasped. “I see you got a haircut. Still got the tattoo?”
“What do you want, Uncle Bryant?”
His uncle ignored him, turning to the front seat. “Howard, take us somewhere nice and quiet. Preferably with a view.”
“Sure, Pop. Any recommendations, Chase?”
Chase said nothing, keeping his eyes on his uncle. He’d always been a larger version of his brother, Winston, and Chase figured his father would have looked much the same had he still been alive. The past two years had aged the man dramatically. Ill health seeped out of every pore in his sallow face.
Chase had always been fascinated by his cousins’ utter lack of social skills. Bryant and Winston, Chase’s father, were the only sons of a Seattle family that was socially prominent at the turn of the twentieth century. Old money. Traditions. Etiquette. Chase had been indoctrinated from birth, and he’d assumed his cousins had been, too. But their parents had divorced and a string of stepmothers had failed to do what a nurturing mother like Chase’s had done to act as a buffer against the father’s bullying ways and teach the boys the niceties.
The car cruised down Primrose Lane, made a right onto the main drag and headed out of town. After a few minutes Bryant said, “We had a business agreement, Chase. I hope you haven’t broken it.”
“I keep my promises.”
“We hope so,” said Terence.
Chase ignored him. “What’s this all about, Uncle Bryant?”
“I had an unexpected visit last Friday afternoon. End of the day. I was about to head to my club when a young woman insisted on an appointment.”
Chase had a sickening feeling about what was coming. He swung his gaze to the window at his right, feigning disinterest.
“A woman from the FBI,” Bryant said, “telling me she was heading an investigation into the business.”
Chase closed his eyes. He couldn’t have spoken if he’d wanted to.
“Do you know anything about this, Chase?”
He took a deep breath and looked at his uncle. “Not a thing.”
“So you haven’t been making any more phone calls like the one you made thirteen years ago?”
Chase didn’t flinch from the watery-eyed stare. “No, I haven’t. Now can we go back to town? I have work to do.”
His uncle studied Chase’s face long and hard. Finally he said, “Take us back, Howard.”
“That’s it?” asked Howard. “We could’ve settled this on the phone.”
The tight smile that came and went in Bryant’s face never quite reached his eyes. “Nothing like a one-on-one, Howard. The need to see for yourself. That’s a business maxim you should know by now.”
“Sure, Pop,” he muttered, scowling at Chase.
Chase stared out the window on the short ride back to Primrose Lane. He knew his uncle might find out eventually about the connection to Skye Sorrenti. He just hoped he’d have time to plan what he could do about it, if anything.
When the Cadillac purred to a stop in front of the shop, Chase immediately opened the door. But his uncle stopped him one last time.
“How’s your mother doing? I haven’t seen her for ages. Must drop by for a visit.”
Chase continued out the door, slamming it behind him.
SAMANTHA KNEW she couldn’t put off contacting her sister and Chase any longer. She hated the position she was in, caught between two people who had a strong interest—for whatever reason—in something that happened years ago. The last couple of days had been spent catching up on some of the work she’d deferred as long as possible and frankly, she’d appreciated the break from the whole Trade Winds thing. Yet she’d found herself thinking about Chase at odd moments, picturing him on his stool at his workbench or putting together lunch in his small, sunlit kitchen.
Her opinion of him had altered dramatically since that first meeting at Harbor House, when she’d feared he’d deny all possibili
ty of being Danny’s father and find a way to absolve himself from any responsibility. And in spite of the fact that he’d been abrupt and almost hostile toward her in the next couple of meetings, she felt he was beginning to warm up a bit. What surprised her was how much that pleased her. And it wasn’t just because she needed a positive relationship with him to maintain her connection with Danny and his mother, which was something she now realized she wanted. It was more than that, though she couldn’t have said what, exactly. The only problem in the equation was Skye.
Sam stood up and stretched. She’d managed to get caught up on most of her calls and e-mails and knew she really could not postpone getting back to either Chase or Skye any longer. But which one? The phone suddenly rang, and when she looked at the caller display, she knew the decision had been made for her.
“I need to talk to you,” he said, skipping a greeting.
Maybe she was deluding herself about the warming-up bit, Sam thought. “About?” she asked, though she knew even before he answered.
“Your sister. Meet me at the Starbucks at Pikes’ market. I have some shopping to do there. Half an hour?”
As if he gave her a choice. Sam said, “Sure,” and he hung up. She stared at the receiver for a moment in disbelief. The man was definitely challenged when it came to social niceties. She filed some papers and was about to leave when the phone rang. Caller display indicated it was Chase again.
“Listen, I—” she began.
“Just heard from Minnie Schwartz. The hospital called her to say Emily has taken a turn for the worse. I’m heading there now. Want to meet me?”
“I’ll be there as soon as I can. Does Danny know?”
She heard him swear softly. “I’ll call his school and arrange to pick him up on my way to the hospital.”
“Is it bad?”
“Her lungs are filling up with fluids and they’ve had to put a chest tube in. That’s as much as Minnie knows.”
“I’ll get there as soon as I can,” Sam said, and hung up. She moved mechanically and quickly, grabbing her purse, cell phone and, at the last moment, a paperback, though she didn’t expect she’d be relaxed enough to read.
The ward seemed especially quiet as Sam stepped off the elevator. Emily’s door was partially open, so she was able to peek around it to see if she ought to enter or not. Emily was lying propped against two pillows, an oxygen mask covering the lower part of her face. The bedcovers were carefully arranged over a clear, plastic tubing system that went from her chest to a container hanging off the side of the bed. Her eyes were closed and Sam hesitated, almost afraid to go into the room. A nurse came along and stopped next to Sam.
“Are you family?” she asked.
“Not really.”
“There’s a waiting room down the hall,” the nurse said, pointing.
“Her son will soon be here. Will he be able to see her?”
The nurse smiled. “Danny? For sure. She’s come around quite a bit since this morning, but she’s tired. Every crisis, no matter how small or big, is exhausting for her. Have Danny check in at the nurses’ station before he goes in.”
She started to walk on when Sam asked, “What does this mean? In terms of her ongoing condition, I mean.”
“You’ll have to talk to her doctor about that. He’ll be making rounds in an hour or so. But unless you’re an immediate family member…”
“Of course, I understand.” As the nurse walked away, Sam realized that her unexpected feeling of exclusion arose from the fact that she felt as if she was family. She headed for the waiting room and halfheartedly skimmed her paperback, constantly checking the bank of elevators that opened into the area for sign of Chase and Danny. Half an hour later an elevator opened and the two exited.
Danny looked pale and dazed. He headed automatically for Emily’s room, brushing past Sam as she stood to greet them. “Danny!”
He spun around. “Honey,” Sam said, lowering her voice, “the nurse said you should check in with them first. Your mother might be sleeping.”
“Is she okay?”
She ached to wrap her arms around him, but knew what he needed right then was information—and his mother. “The nurse said she’d improved since this morning.”
She caught Chase’s eye over Danny’s head, wanting him to step in.
“Come on, Danny. I’ll go with you,” he said, and placing a hand on the boy’s shoulder, steered him toward the nurses’ station down the hall.
Sam watched them, a lump forming in her throat. She noticed that they had the same way of carrying themselves. Straight-backed, shoulders squared. Resolute in the way they walked side by side, but somehow vulnerable, too. And in that moment a flood of affection for the two flowed through her. Crazy. On one level, she scarcely knew either of them, yet the connecting link of Emily and what she was going through had forged a bond.
They stopped at the counter and Sam watched as a nurse escorted them to Emily’s room. They stood in the doorway a few seconds and then followed the nurse inside.
Sam began to pace. Moments later there was a flurry in the hall and a group of white-coated men and women trailing behind an authoritative man with a clipboard emerged from a room and headed toward Emily’s. The doctor and his students making rounds. Sam watched as they stood briefly in the hall outside Emily’s room while the doctor spoke to them. They went inside and once again, Sam was left waiting and wondering.
After what seemed ages, the medical group left the room and continued on down the hall. Just as Sam was considering going in to see Emily, Chase came out and headed her way. He was pale, his face drawn. He sank into a chair.
“How is she?”
“Better. But the doctor told me that these crises will escalate. Her lungs fill with fluid and have to be drained.”
Sam sat in the chair next to his and bowed her head, overwhelmed by the implication of what he’d said. Escalate. Emily’s suffering would increase. She felt his hand pat her upper back and then make slow, circular motions that were comforting and warm. She let herself drift with the movement until he suddenly pulled his hand away. She raised her head.
“We have to talk,” he said.
She knew instantly he wasn’t referring to Danny and Emily. “Yes,” she said.
“Your sister went to see my uncle, at his place of business. She asked him some questions and then he came to see me.” He rubbed his brow with an index finger. “Did you talk to her?”
Sam shook her head. “I tried, but it’s still up in the air. To tell you the truth, I just wanted to forget the whole thing. Make it go away.”
“Yeah,” he said. “You and me both. I’ve spent the last thirteen years reconciling myself to the fact that I played a big part in the breakdown of my family and even my father’s death. These past two years I finally managed to put together a life for myself and the promise of a future.”
Sam didn’t know what to say. The blunt facts in the FBI file she’d read had certainly not addressed the personal and emotional toll on the Sullivan family. She wished she could make it right for Chase, but knew it was too late for that.
“What happened?” she finally asked.
“It’s…it’s complicated, Sam. This isn’t the time or place for explanations.”
“I understand and I’m sorry, Chase,” she said, pausing, “but isn’t it a good thing that you were still able to overcome all that?”
He got to his feet, and forked a hand through his hair. “That’s the point. Things were going well until…”
“I came into the picture.”
“Not just you. All of it. Emily and Danny and then your sister. Now my uncle and cousins have turned up and suddenly my whole damn past is right in my face.” He strode over to a window overlooking the hospital parking lot.
“Of course it is. What did you think? That you could just live your life and never have to account for what happened? That all those unresolved issues would simply vanish?”
After a long moment, he said
, “I paid for all of that. I exiled myself from my family—my mother—and tried to make amends as best I could. If it wasn’t for your sister—”
Mentally she agreed totally. But loyalty to her twin surfaced. Sam walked over to where he stood, his back still turned to her.
“Don’t put this on Skye. She’s doing her job. I don’t know why she’s decided to resurrect the whole thing with your family’s business, but she has. If you’re innocent, you have nothing to worry about, do you?” Are you? she wanted to add.
He turned to face her. “You don’t know anything about my worries. You come into my life, playing the Good Samaritan or whatever, reuniting a boy with his father and then blithely set loose someone who can ultimately destroy everything.”
The unfairness of his words angered her. “Set loose? Skye is my sister, not some pack dog. And if you’d dealt with these things the way you ought to have years ago, you wouldn’t be in this situation now.”
He grabbed hold of her forearms, holding her so close she could smell the breath mint he must have been sucking on moments ago. “You know nothing about my problems nor what I’ve done about them.”
“You walked away from Emily when she was pregnant.”
He drew back, dropping his hands. “That’s beneath you.”
Sam flushed and bit her lip.
“I didn’t know about Danny,” he said. “If I had, I’d have…”
“What?”
The unexpected voice drew their attention to the entrance of the waiting area and Danny, staring at them. “What would you have done?” he asked again. His face was red and his eyes glistening. “Would you have married my mom and made her whole life different? Maybe she wouldn’t have had to work so hard. Maybe she’d have quit smoking, because she wouldn’t have been so stressed about making money and looking after me all by herself.”
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