The Secret Son's Homecoming

by Helen Lacey

  She was so close to working him out, he wanted to bail. No one had ever challenged his beliefs until Connie. Because he’d never allowed himself to get close enough to anyone before. But she was close. Too close. And if he hung around, Jonah knew she would break down his defenses.

  “I’d like to know the answer to that one.”

  J.D.

  Jonah glanced toward the door and saw his father. He looked tired. Old.

  “What do you want?” he demanded.

  “To talk to you,” J.D. said quietly.

  Jonah frowned. “How did you know I was here?”

  “I texted your dad when you arrived,” Connie said flatly. “He was downstairs having coffee with Liam and your mother.”

  Jonah’s chest tightened. His mother was at the hotel. Connie was acting as though he was the villain. She’s chosen her side. His life was imploding. He hurt all over. “I’m leaving.”

  “Not until we’ve talked,” J.D. said. “I’m concerned about your mother. You’ve hardly spoken to her this week.”

  “I’ve hardly spoken to anyone this week,” he shot back, his words directed toward Connie. They’d hardly talked at all, and he’d missed her. That’s why he’d bailed from Portland and caught the first flight he could. “I’ve been working. And I don’t need to explain myself to you.”

  “That’s true,” J.D. said. “You’re a grown man and entitled to live your own life. But it goes both ways,” he reminded him.

  “Everything all right here?”

  It was Liam in the doorway, and Jonah experienced an acute sense of suffocation. He was on one side, they were on the other. And Connie was clearly allied with the O’Sullivans. She was loyal to them, after all. They’d saved her life. She felt indebted to them. She would always choose them. An all-too-familiar ache pierced his heart.

  “Everything’s fine,” J.D. said and nodded.

  “Dad, I don’t think you should—”

  “It’s okay,” J.D. interrupted Liam with a wave of his hand. “I need to say something to your brother, something that is long overdue. You know, Jonah, you’ve given me a lot to think about this past week...made me ask myself what I could have done better when it came to being a father to you. And, sure, I could have done everything better. I could have seen you more, talked to you more, explained the situation to you better. But I didn’t,” J.D. said wearily. “I took the easy route. The coward’s way. Because I didn’t want to lose you and your mother, but I didn’t want to lose Gwen and my family, either. I was selfish and self-important. So, there, I’ve said it. Everything was my fault. I failed to be a father to you. I let you down. I let your mom down. I let my wife down. And I let Liam and Kieran and Liz and Sean down. I screwed up and left you to pay the price for my failures. I’m sorry, Jonah. And I would like to ask for your forgiveness. Even if you never want to speak to me again.”

  Jonah stared at J.D., noticing the other man looked unusually red in the face. He looked at Connie and saw she had furrow lines between her brows. And he glanced toward Liam, who had clearly gone into protective mode. Jonah had heard enough, more than he wanted.

  “It’s too late for absolution,” he said.

  “Maybe,” J.D. replied and ran a hand over his jaw. “But I’m asking anyway.”

  Jonah’s throat tightened. “No.”

  J.D.’s expression openly crumpled, and Jonah ignored the continuing twitch in his chest. He didn’t want to have any reaction. Reaction meant feelings. And feelings were out of the question. He didn’t want to have any feelings for J.D. other than the rage and resentment that kept him from falling apart at the seams.

  “Okay,” the older man said and sighed. “You win. I’m done. I’ll end my relationship with your mother and I won’t bother you anymore. I’ll give you exactly what you want, son. I’ll leave you alone.”

  J.D. turned, and as he walked away, Liam patted his shoulder assuredly. Jonah didn’t care. Once the older man was out of sight, Connie muttered something about making sure he was okay and followed him out the office. And then Liam spoke.

  “Did you have to do that?” he demanded.

  “Do what?” he shot back, his spine straightening.

  “Break him.”

  “I don’t know—”

  “God, you’re a selfish bastard,” Liam said roughly. “Do you know how hard it was for him to admit to all that stuff? You don’t give an inch, do you? Talking to you is like banging your head against a brick wall. With your holier-than-thou attitude, we might be led to believe that you’ve never made a single mistake in your life. I knew you were an unforgiving, narrow-minded jerk from the first time we met. I wanted to keep the family away from you because wherever you go, misery seems to follow. But Dad insisted... He said he needed to have you in his life. But you don’t make things easy for anyone. My way or the highway... There’s no middle road with you, no compromise.”

  The words stung, but Jonah refused to cave. “Are you finished?”

  Liam jutted his chin out. “Why, do you want to take a shot at me?”

  Jonah’s blood curdled. “I’m not going to fight you.”

  “Smart decision. Even though a good walloping might do you good.”

  His fists curled and he took a deep breath. Jonah had never been in a fistfight, but if his brother wanted to go a round or two, he’d certainly oblige. Maybe it would help exorcise the demons and rage pressing down on his shoulders. They were close, barely a few feet apart, close enough for one of them to take a swing. Liam looked furious, and his expression fueled Jonah’s resentment.

  “If you guys start fighting,” Connie said from behind them, “two things are going to happen.”

  Jonah snapped his head around. She was in the doorway, arms crossed, clearly unhappy by the scene they were having. Jonah’s gaze connected with hers, and she sighed heavily.

  “Where’s Dad?” Liam asked.

  “Resting in his room,” she replied and moved around them, standing point like a referee. “First,” she said and looked at Liam, “I’ll quit, and you’ll have to finish the interviews yourself. And second,” she said, staring at Jonah, meeting his gaze with unwavering strength, “I won’t see you anymore.”

  Several seconds of curdling tension passed in silence. And then Liam laughed, the sound so annoying Jonah suddenly did want to punch him in the nose.

  “Well,” his brother said and stepped back. “I don’t think either of us wants to risk that.”

  “Good,” she said and picked up a folder from the desk. “I thought it might be a good time to go over the plans for the museum extension. Only,” she added pointedly, “I think we should postpone that idea for another day. I don’t think I can trust that either of you can be civil enough to sit in the same room together and not throw a punch.”

  “I’m good with that,” Liam said and raised a hand as he walked toward his office. “I wouldn’t want to risk your wrath, Connie. Although you have my word I won’t touch a hair on his pretty head.”

  Once his brother was out of sight, Jonah spoke. “He’s such a jerk.”

  “He was only protecting J.D. That’s what people do when they care about someone.” She sighed heavily. “We really need to talk.”

  He nodded. “Would you like to come to my place for dinner?”

  “No,” she replied, and his heart sank a little. “I’ll cook. There’s a key under the blue flowerpot on my porch. I’ll be here for about another hour. Make yourself at home and I’ll see you when I get there.”

  Jonah nodded, made a half-move toward her and then changed his mind. He wanted to kiss her. But it wasn’t the time or place.

  Half an hour later, he was driving toward Connie’s. He picked up flowers and doughnuts on the way and made himself at home when he arrived at her house. The scent of baking and flowers haunted him as he moved from room to room, the dogs not far
from his heels.

  It was close to lunchtime when he started getting antsy. He went to grab his cell from his pocket and realized he must have left it in the car. He was about to walk outside when he saw Connie coming up the path. Grabbing the flowers, he waited for her to come in, noticing that the dogs were unusually subdued when she crossed the threshold. Her hair was out of its ponytail and she dropped her bag in the hallway when she spotted him hovering by the living room door, holding the flowers in his hand.

  “A peace offering,” he said quietly and smiled. “Sorry for being a jerk before.”

  Her mouth creased uneasily, and he noticed how crumpled her clothes were, and that she looked far from her usual picture-perfect professional image.

  He met her gaze and she spoke, her voice a bare whisper. “Jonah.”

  “What’s wrong?”

  “I’ve been trying to call you.”

  He took a step forward and explained about his phone being in the car and then dropped the flowers onto the hall table. “What is it?”

  She swallowed hard, her eyes glittering. “It’s J.D. He collapsed at the hotel. He’s in the hospital.”

  Jonah felt as though a freight train had come to a screeching halt in his head. “What happened?”

  She shrugged. “I’m not sure. But we need to go.”

  “I...I don’t...”

  “We need to go, Jonah. Now.”

  He looked at her, felt the raw emotion and tension in her movements, her words, even her ragged breath. And he knew it was bad. His head pounded. His chest ached. And blame settled squarely into his very soul.

  What if I killed my father?

  * * *

  Connie drove to the hospital. Not because she thought Jonah incapable of handling a vehicle. But because she needed something to do, something to keep her thoughts away from the image of J.D. sprawled out on the floor in the hotel foyer, pale and gasping for breath. Thankfully the concierge knew CPR and had quickly called 911. But Connie was worried. J.D. was in trouble.

  Liam had already left the office and Connie had had to make the terrible phone call. Of course he took control, telling her not to worry, that he would contact his family, and then he’d asked her to call Jonah. But it wasn’t the kind of thing to be said over the phone. Face-to-face was best.

  But Jonah looked cold. Unmoved. Almost robotic. There was no anger, no resistance, no emotion. Just blankness. Of course, it could be shock, she thought as she tried to talk to him on the way to the hospital and got little response.

  By the time they arrived at the ER, almost the whole family was there, including both Gwen and Kathleen, sitting at opposite ends of the waiting room. Connie went to grasp Jonah’s hand, but he pulled away, staying on the fringes of the group, hovering in the doorway. She crossed her arms, ignoring the hurt seeping into her bones and trying not to cry, and walked toward Gwen. She sat down, took a long breath and waited.

  At least ten minutes passed in uncomfortable silence before Kieran arrived, pale and clearly concerned. “They’re doing tests now to determine the severity of the attack. It looks like a combination of his ulcer and his heart.”

  “He had a heart attack?” Liam asked the obvious question.

  Kieran nodded fractionally and sighed. “They’re doing an echocardiogram right now to assess the damage.”

  “Shouldn’t you be in there?” Liam shot back.

  “I’m a little conflicted here,” Kieran replied. “Too close to the patient. He’s in good hands with Dr. Parker.”

  Connie knew Lucy Parker, formerly Lucy Monero. She was a wonderful doctor. She could see how helpless Kieran looked, but knew he was doing the right thing by stepping back. Connie glanced toward Jonah, still standing by the door, arms crossed, his handsome face expressionless. She wanted to shake him and hug him simultaneously.

  He met her gaze, and she managed a reassuring smile. But...nothing. He barely blinked. But she spotted the pulse in his neck and saw it was throbbing madly.

  No one said anything.

  Until Kathleen Rickard spoke.

  “Are you happy now?”

  Half a dozen sets of eyes zoomed in on Jonah. Connie watched as he straightened and looked at his mother. Kathleen had tears in her eyes, but her chin was held high.

  “Mom, I—”

  “You’ve spent so long hating him for what he didn’t do,” Kathleen said and shook her head. “You didn’t bother to spare a thought for whatever he did do. I love you, Jonah...but right now, I’m just so angry I can’t even look at you.”

  The sudden silence was deafening.

  She felt the blame in the room, the agreement, the combined censure from a group of people who all cared about one another deeply and were silently searching for someone to pin their fears on.

  Jonah.

  In that moment, he became the outsider he’d always feared.

  Connie looked at him, watched as he closed down, and she experienced an acute sense of helplessness. He needed her support. Her backing. But so did the O’Sullivans. And suddenly she was torn—caught between love and loyalty. Worse, she knew that Jonah saw the conflict in her eyes.

  He turned and walked out.

  Once he was gone, the dynamic in the room changed instantly. She looked around. Everyone started talking. They all relaxed. It saddened Connie to the core of her being. She met Kathleen’s gaze and knew the older woman regretted her words. Connie nodded gently and started after Jonah. She had to do something.

  Loyalty or love?

  In that moment, she chose love.

  Chapter Eleven

  Jonah sat in the hospital cafeteria and sipped stale coffee he could barely taste. He thought about his life. His choices. Everything he’d said and done to get to where he was.

  In his professional life, he was respected and revered and at the top of his field. He had money, friends and a luxurious condo. Women had never been hard to find. Sex had always been casual and meaningless. Shallow experiences that shaped a shallow life. He’d spent his childhood longing for the perfect family, the traditional image of a mom and dad, maybe a sibling or two. What he got was an overprotective mother and a mostly absent father who favored his real family in another state.

  What he’d wanted...what he’d needed...was more than he got from J.D.

  It had left a hole inside him. A gap that couldn’t be filled with success or money or empty sex. So instead, he filled that gap with rage and resentment. And rage and resentment, he’d discovered, were a good shield against feeling anything too much. None of his friends noticed. Nor did the women who casually shared his bed. He kept it buttoned up, away from his day-to-day life. But beneath the surface, it simmered, leaving the wrath that he felt to be aimed solely at J.D. to fester, defining him. Making him less than honest. And in some ways, no better than the man he claimed to despise. Hating J.D. had become as natural to him as breathing.

  On reflection, it was easy to see why the O’Sullivans disliked him.

  In that moment, Jonah didn’t like himself very much, either.

  It would be better for everyone if he stayed away, if he left Cedar River and returned to his real life. In Portland, he knew who he was. He was civilized and successful and well liked. He had a purpose. A role to play. He wasn’t an intruder. A side note to anyone’s life.

  In Cedar River, he felt like a fraud. A pale imitation of the man he really was.

  He thought about his mother and realized it was time he let her get on with her life, too. If she loved J.D., who was he to tell her she couldn’t? He really was a self-important, egotistical bastard.

  And J.D. was probably fighting for his life because of him.

  Because he didn’t have an ounce of forgiveness in his heart. Because he blamed J.D. for everything. Because he’d done exactly what his father had accused him of—behaved like a spoiled child. Th
rough his childhood, through his teens and then as he headed into adulthood, he’d been indulged and given every material thing he wanted. J.D. had done it to make up for his long absences; his mother had obliged because she felt guilty. And Jonah had accepted it all with an ungracious heart. Taking, but feeling no gratitude.

  Then he thought about Connie. A woman who had endured unspeakable suffering and pain and still had goodness and kindness etched into her soul. A woman whose parents barely spared her a thought and whose much-loved grandparents had passed away and left her alone. Sweet and trusting. She’d put her body and trust in his hands and he’d made a mockery of her, over and over, insisting her loyalty to the O’Sullivans—the very people who had protected her, helped her rebuild her life—was misplaced and misdirected. But what did he know about loyalty? He’d always believed he was loyal to his mother, that they were united, that their bond was unbreakable. And it was, until she did something he didn’t approve of—like get involved with J.D. again. Loyalty with terms wasn’t loyalty. It was blind arrogance. Something he possessed by the bucketload.

  The realization made his path abundantly clear.

  I need to go back to Portland. And stay there.

  He needed to let his mother get on with her life. He needed to let Connie do the same.

  And then, as thoughts of her bombarded his head, she appeared.

  “You know,” she said when she reached him, “your mom didn’t mean what she said.”

  “I know,” he said quietly.

  She looked doubtful. “She’s just hurting and scared.”

  “I know,” he said again.

  Connie sat down. “You need to go back in there.”

  He shook his head. “They don’t want me around.”

  “It’s not a matter of what they want,” she said and grabbed his hands. “It’s what you need.”