All We Knew

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All We Knew Page 20

by Jamie Beck


  “In the meantime, I brought you this.” Hunter slid a Snickers bar across the table. His dad slipped it into his robe pocket with a sneaky smile, but then he winced.

  “How’s the headache?” Hunter asked.

  “Relentless. My left arm tingles. I lose words. My short-term memory is shit.” He shook his head. “Today’s better than yesterday, but who knows about tomorrow.”

  “I’m sorry, Dad. It’s only been a week, and they warned it would get worse before it improved. I guess that’s cold comfort, but don’t lose faith.” He almost laughed at himself. Faith. He’d never put much stock in that, preferring to take matters into his own hands. “I wish I could do more to help.”

  “Me too,” his dad said. “It’s my fight, though. I’ll beat it.”

  “You will.” Hunter leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees to help steady himself against rising apprehension. “We need you too much for you to stay this sick.”

  “The only good thing about this is that it’s made your sister less rebellious. Jenna’s happy to have her back under our roof. I’m sure you aren’t sorry for your privacy, either.”

  Hunter didn’t exactly miss Gentry’s messes, but her absence had Sara even more on edge. He, too, had become uneasy about what Gentry was thinking these days. “Sara enjoyed her company. Did Gentry show you the outline I’d given her to help her draft a business plan? I think if she took a few more classes and finished college, she might be able to do something with this PR interest.”

  “Maybe I ought to send her back to live with you and Sara for a while longer. Your work ethic might be the influence she needs.” His dad wiped his mouth and then set the napkin down. “Speaking of work, update me. Have you heard from Pure this week? Jenna’s been tight-lipped.”

  Hunter paused because he’d updated his father just last night on the phone. The doctors wouldn’t make any promises about when, or if, his dad’s memory would improve, but he couldn’t come back as CEO until it did.

  Hunter wanted that job, but not this way. And he’d always assumed his father would still maintain an emeritus role for another decade or more. Their shared passion for the company had always been their biggest connection. Without it, Hunter had a hard time envisioning their future relationship.

  “Pure has everything it requested. I expect we’ll hear back from them in another couple of weeks.” Hunter could only hope King Cola expressed interest in his proposition before Pure made a firm offer. Contrary to Sara’s beliefs, Hunter knew he was doing the right thing by everyone, including his dad, in trying to save CTC. They’d all thank him one day when the company’s value doubled and provided careers for the next generation of Cabots. “Dad, can I ask something without upsetting you or arguing?”

  “I don’t know. Can you?” He grinned, then winced and rubbed his forehead.

  The timing wasn’t ideal, but Hunter couldn’t stop himself. The question had been nagging him for weeks. “Why don’t you trust me to take CTC into the future?”

  “It’s not about trust, son. I know you can run it, probably in your sleep. Right now it’s about an opportunity to get a more than fair price for the business.”

  Hunter didn’t believe that for a second. Neither his mother nor father had ever been particularly materialistic. In their different ways, they’d taught Colby and him to prize contribution, to explore the depths of one’s talents and passions, and to leave a mark on the world. None of those values could be bought.

  “But we had plans, you and me. Plans to build CTC into an international powerhouse. I’d always assumed it’d be you, me, and my own son or daughter one day up on the third floor. A dynasty. How can you throw that all away for money?”

  His dad stared at the empty plate for a few seconds. When he lifted his gaze, his eyes held a note of sad resignation. “I’m older. And tired. And to top it off, now I’m sick. That’s all given me a different . . . view . . . on how I want to spend whatever time I’ve got left. Fretting over trade laws, taxes, climate change, minimum wage—not that interested anymore. I spent so much time building that company I missed out on some other things in life, like travel. I want to do some of that before it’s too late. Maybe you should think about that for yourself, too. But, also, if you’re committed to building a legacy, you’re talented enough to do it from scratch.”

  “I don’t want a new legacy. I’ve poured everything into ours. So step down, travel with Jenna, find a new hobby, but give me the chance to prove myself.” Sensing he might be making headway, he added, “We can set some targets, and if I don’t meet them in two or three years, then we can talk about selling.”

  “But if you don’t meet them, or if the market declines, the sales price will reflect whatever problems have cropped up, which means we’ll lose money.” His head tipped to one side, and Hunter saw some regret reflected in his expression. “I didn’t go looking for this, but you know what they say about striking while the iron’s hot.”

  His father’s answer proved, despite his words, he lacked confidence in Hunter’s leadership. Worse, that his father wouldn’t miss the day-to-day relationship and camaraderie they’d developed over the years. He’d walk away from it and Hunter as easily as he’d walked away from his first wife.

  Hunter’s voice roughened slightly from having to overcome the lump in his throat. “If you step down and let me run things, let me put in place some of my ideas—”

  “Hunter!” Jenna said from the kitchen door before she rushed over and set her hand on her husband’s shoulder.

  His dad patted it. “Jenna, we’re not arguing. Just discussing options.”

  She stared at her husband. “I’m sick of his guilt trips. You started the company, not him. The biggest mistake you made was listening to that tax adviser and giving away most of the stock years ago. Now you can’t control its future.”

  Hunter snorted. “How shocking that you don’t understand money and value. Naturally, you wanted him to ignore that advice so you would end up with everything, or we would’ve had to sell the company to pay inheritance taxes on the stock bequest.” God, he despised her. Truth be told, maybe he’d even started to lose some respect for his dad for being so devoted to a woman with so few redeeming qualities. The only thing Hunter had ever admired about Jenna was her work ethic. Now even she was ready to ditch that for a fat paycheck. “You’ve never respected money, as proven by the way you spend it on things you don’t even know how to use, like these high-end appliances.”

  “Enough.” His dad coughed, as if the energy to shut down the argument had totally drained him.

  “Honey, drink some water.” Jenna handed his dad a glass before glowering at Hunter.

  Hunter shut up. He didn’t come here to upset his father or argue with Jenna. He’d come hoping for things he didn’t get—good news about his dad’s recovery, assurance of his father’s faith in him.

  “Sorry. I didn’t come here to fight. I’ll go.” He stood, then belatedly thought of checking in on Gentry. “Is Gentry around?”

  “Now that she’s giving you her child, you suddenly care.” Jenna pressed her hand to her chest and mocked him. “How touching.”

  He knew he hadn’t been the best brother to Gentry. She’d been hard to know, being almost nine years younger than he was and growing up across town with a mom who didn’t exactly try to knit together the blended family.

  “I’ll take that as a no.” Ignoring her bait would irk Jenna more than anything else, and despite his guilty conscience regarding Gentry, he had no love lost for his stepmom. He smiled at his dad. “I’ll stop in tomorrow.”

  “Gee, can’t wait!” Jenna quipped.

  “Jenna, for chrissakes! Stop it.” His dad shook his head. “If we sell, I sure won’t miss you two going at it every single day.”

  Hunter hadn’t been particularly sensitive to putting his dad in the middle throughout the years. Then again, neither had Jenna—not that he liked the idea that he wasn’t any better than she was. “I’ll see my
self out.”

  The five-minute drive home passed in a blur: he’d been so consumed by his thoughts. He didn’t even look forward to seeing Sara because he couldn’t really talk to her about all these feelings. She was basically on their side when it came to CTC, and now worried that his personal goals would affect the adoption.

  He should call Colby. She’d understand without judging him. She’d been there all along, watching him connect with his dad through work. Knowing what that bond had meant to him, and how seeing his dad toss it away like it never mattered was a kick in the balls.

  Hunter entered the mudroom, surprised to find a dark, quiet house. He switched on the kitchen light and, in the shadows of the family room, saw Sara sitting on the couch, knees curled up to her chin.

  Not a good sign.

  “Hey, babe. Whatcha doing in the dark?” He approached her with some caution and sat beside her. What had he done now? As his eyes adjusted to the dark, he noticed her puffy face. Just like that, his heart squeezed. “What happened?”

  She shook her head and rested her forehead on her knees. “Nothing.”

  He wrapped an arm around her shoulder and kissed her head. “It’s not nothing. You’re crying in the dark by yourself. Did you have a fight with Mimi?”

  “No.” She raised her head. “I’d tell you, but I don’t want to fight.”

  “I promise I won’t argue.”

  “You’ll be furious.”

  Well, shit. Now what could he say? “Now you have to tell me. I swear I won’t be furious.”

  She peered at him like a child terrified of being punished. “It’s Ty.”

  “Ty?” He searched his memory.

  Her expression proved he’d hurt her feelings somehow. “The little boy at the Angel House that I’ve talked about for weeks.”

  “Oh, yeah. Sorry. I blanked on his name.” He grimaced. “A lot is happening these days.”

  “Yes, I know.”

  When she said nothing more, he asked, “What happened to Ty?”

  She eyed him as if judging whether or not it’d be worth telling him the story. “Their time at the house expired, so Gloria helped his mom find ‘affordable’ housing in Lents near that Eastport Plaza. Pam got a waitressing job, but makes nothing. I went by today to bring some books and toys to Ty. They’re in this tiny section-eight place. It smells, and you know that neighborhood is a higher-crime area than most.” Her face crumpled again.

  His first thought was to jump up and yell about her going alone to that neighborhood, but, with effort, he remained seated and calm. “If the whole point of the Angel House is to help these women get their own places and jobs, isn’t this a good thing, even if the housing isn’t the best? It’s a solid first step.”

  “At the shelter, Pam had help. Ty had healthy meals. They had a clean, safe place to sleep. Now they’re out there in a crime-riddled area, and everything’s all on her shoulders. I’m not sure she’s ready. Who will watch Ty? What if she turns back to drugs to cope?”

  “You’re projecting a worst-case scenario. Surely Pam is in better shape now than months ago when she first arrived. She must have friends or family to help her.”

  “If she had friends or family, she wouldn’t have ended up at the Angel House.” Sara’s voice sharpened. He needed to tiptoe through the minefield of her emotions, or he risked making everything worse.

  “She has a job and a roof over her head, which is more than she had before.” He reached for her hand. “Try not to worry about things you can’t control. You did what you could.”

  “I would’ve offered for them to stay here for a while so she could save some money, and I could watch Ty, but I knew you’d object.” She peered up at him with guarded hope in her eyes.

  He reeled back a bit, unprepared for that kind of request. “You’d invite a drug addict to live in our home?”

  He stopped short of pointing out the faded yellow bruise on her cheek.

  “A recovering addict. Pam isn’t friendly, but she isn’t threatening. I’d risk it for Ty. That sweet baby is so vulnerable.”

  “Babe.” He hugged her hard. His heart felt like it was wedged beneath someone’s boot. “This is exactly what I’ve been worried about. You’re putting yourself out there this way and taking on all their responsibilities. It’s not rational.”

  “You think I’m stupid for getting attached.” She tried to pull away, but he held her tight.

  “I never think you’re stupid. Just tenderhearted.” He stroked her hair. “I’m sorry you’re worried.”

  Those brilliant blue eyes dimmed. “I know you’re right. But he’s so . . . special. I think I could’ve really helped him if I’d have had longer. He’d finally started talking to me, and I know he likes when I read to him. His mother never reads to him. She hardly talks to him. How can a kid like that have a chance in this world?” New tears leaked from the corners of her eyes.

  He didn’t have an answer to her question, so he pulled her onto his lap and rocked her, murmuring endearments and wondering what it must be like to have her heart. One that opened up to everyone so easily. One that gave everything without asking for much in return. One so easily broken.

  He’d never been that way. Most days it felt like a blessing, but recently a little part of him worried that maybe he was missing out on something.

  “Sara, I can’t welcome a strange woman into our house, but if I rent them a safer place for a short time, will that make you feel better?”

  He heard her breath catch. She looked up and cupped his face in her hands. “You’d do that?”

  “I’d do anything to see you smile again.” He kissed her, and for a little while, some of their troubles vanished.

  When Gloria learned about Hunter’s offer, her eyes had gone round as buttons before she’d clucked a warning about setting precedents and getting too personally involved. Sara ended that lecture by saying she’d be spending less time with the residents and more time working directly for the foundation.

  After Hunter’s magnanimous gesture, she’d thought it only fair to make a compromise for him. She could do plenty of good in the community with Colby, and she really ought to be getting ready for the baby, too.

  The real disappointment had been Pam, who’d initially acted as if the offer had insulted her, although ultimately, she accepted the help. Now Sara and Hunter were on their way to pick up Pam and Ty and take them to their new temporary apartment. Hunter had rented a two-bedroom unit for three months in a safer neighborhood with an easy commute to her new job by bus.

  “Thank you, again.” She leaned across the console to kiss Hunter’s cheek, feeling indebted even though she’d given something up, too. This was helping Ty, so it was worth it. “I’m so touched that you did this for them, and me.”

  He glanced at her. “What’s mine is yours. If this is what you want, then it’s done.”

  “You really don’t understand how much this means to me, Hunter.” Mostly because it proved that the man she’d loved was still in there, even if he was harder to reach these days. And although this was yet another grand gesture, she couldn’t deny that, in a crunch, being able to count on him this way meant a lot. “When you meet Ty, you’ll understand why I want him to have a fighting chance at a good life.”

  Like most neighborhoods in the Greater Portland area, even this more impoverished one had lush old-growth trees and relatively clean streets. Upon closer inspection, the rusted cars, barred windows, and graffiti hinted at its seedier side.

  Hunter pulled up to the curb of the three-story, gray, cement-block building where Pam and Ty currently lived. A gang of teenage boys stood huddled on the nearby corner, eyeing his high-tech car with interest.

  Hunter looked around and shook his head. “I hate that you came to this neighborhood by yourself.”

  “Think of all the women and children who live here and walk around, defenseless, all the time. Even those boys . . . what chance do they have when the schools aren’t good and they’ve got
no hope?”

  “I don’t disagree, but there are safer ways to make a difference.”

  “I have mace in my purse, and it’s not particularly dangerous here in the daytime.”

  He tipped his head. “I thought we agreed you’d be more cautious.”

  “I know.”

  “Good.” He squeezed her thigh. “Now let’s get Pam and go.”

  She gripped his hand. “Thank you. A million times, thank you.”

  “You’re welcome.” He leaned over and kissed her. “Let’s just hope this woman doesn’t cause any trouble, since it’s my name on the lease.”

  “She’s not a troublemaker.”

  He cocked a brow. “She’s an addict, Sara.”

  “A recovering addict with a job. Hopefully, she’ll use this chance you’re giving her to save a little extra. If so, maybe she’ll be able to afford to stay in the new place on her own.” Gratitude prompted another smile.

  He tapped her nose. “I hope knowing Ty is safe will make it a little easier to let go of seeing him again.”

  Nothing would make that easier. She’d purposely avoided thinking about it because it made her heart sore. “Actually, I thought maybe I could babysit during some of Pam’s shifts. You can’t complain, because they’ll be in a safer neighborhood.”

  His eyes widened. “Is it wise to get more invested?”

  No one else thought so, but she couldn’t change her heart any more than she could change her height. “It can’t hurt to offer, maybe just for a couple of months. If I help with childcare, those savings can go toward food and rent down the road.”

  “I thought the foundation was setting up childcare subsidies? Besides, you know you can’t get this involved with every case.” He squeezed her hand.

  “I know.”

  He sighed in resignation, his eyes darting back to the gang of boys, who hadn’t moved. “Let’s talk about this later. Right now I just want to get this done and then visit my dad.”

  Jed’s recovery hadn’t progressed much, which increased her husband’s stress levels. “Yesterday I took him soup, but he didn’t even get out of bed.”

 

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