Lakeside Family

by Lisa Jordan

  His eyes filled. Bowing his head, he let the tears slide down his cheeks and drip onto the carpet.

  Chapter Nineteen

  Birthdays were supposed to be days of celebrations, not spent fighting to breathe in a hospital room painted the color of chicken soup.

  Children’s laughter should be echoing through the room instead of beeping monitors and hissing tubes. The scent of sulphur from extinguished birthday candles should be lingering in the air. Not the stench of disinfectant that had become as familiar as Josie’s own shampoo.

  Her gaze fixated on Hannah’s sleeping form, memorizing every curve and line of her face. As if she hadn’t already done that. Her daughter’s chest rose and fell in a peaceful rhythm. Too peaceful, too final.

  One more birthday, God. Please.

  She’d pray that prayer every day for the rest of her life, if she had to.

  Josie couldn’t bear the pain of going through life without her only child. And losing another person she loved would surely shred her heart beyond repair. But her daughter was more than that. She was a piece of her. A small representation of the good in Josie’s life.

  She swiped at the tears crowding her eyes, swallowing back the boulder-size lump that seemed to be a constant part of her anatomy. Hope appeared to be the far-off tanker in the middle of the ocean, and she resided on the island of despair with rescue being an oh-so-distant stranger.

  And when Nick walked away, he took a piece of her heart with him. Would he return? The voice inside her head screamed for him to stay. She couldn’t bear to be alone anymore, to lose someone else she loved. Why had she told him not to bother coming back?

  What was wrong with her?

  She was raised to treat people better than that. Once he left and reason pushed away her judgment, she realized the allergic reaction truly was an accident. Hannah’s pediatrician mentioned that few cases had been documented. With Hannah’s latex and nut allergies, though, her body was susceptible to being allergic to the shea nut and proteins used in body care products.

  So Josie needed to indulge in a helping of humble pie.

  She looked up as Dad walked into Hannah’s room with a bag slung over his shoulder, a Cuppa Josie’s cup in one hand and in the other, a bouquet of daisies that appeared to have been dipped in a rainbow. Raindrops dotted his jacket.

  The explosion of color brightened the generic room with its muted pastel floral border, gleaming tile floors and blue privacy curtain that matched the chair Josie had been sitting in for more hours than she cared to remember.

  “Hey, Dad.” She rose to hug him and took the flowers from him, setting them on the table next to Hannah’s bed.

  He dropped the bag on the floor and handed her the cup. “Hi, honey. It’s beginning to rain. Here’s the stuff you asked for. And some tea. How’s our birthday girl?”

  “Thanks. She’s tired, but stable. They gave her something to help her sleep and want to keep her overnight for observation.” Josie handed the cup back to her dad, unzipped the bag and pulled out jeans and a pink sweater. She gestured toward the bathroom. “I’ll be right back.”

  Minutes later, Josie returned and tucked her folded sarong, shirt and tank top in the bag.

  “How you doing, sweetheart?” Dad turned away from Hannah and gave her his best principal look.

  “Fine.” What could she say? Rotten? Ashamed of herself? Terrified out of her mind?

  Dad hooked an arm around her neck and pulled her close, kissing the top of her head. “Okay, now tell me the truth.”

  She wrapped her arms around his waist and leaned her face against the soft fabric of his gray button-down shirt. He smelled of rain-soaked breezes, early morning walks and trust—someone who allowed her to be real without judgment. “Awful.”

  “Why’s that?” He nodded toward the bed. “Other than the obvious, of course.”

  Returning to her chair next to Hannah’s bed, she rested her head against the back and closed her eyes. “Nick and I had a fight. I said some pretty nasty things.”

  “Stress has a way of making us say things we may regret later.” Dad pulled another chair closer to the bed. Josie winced as it scraped across the floor.

  “I don’t know if he’ll forgive me.” She hooked her bare feet over the metal bed railing, wishing she had remembered to ask Dad to grab socks and her shoes. Oh, well, her flip-flops would have to do.

  “Don’t be so sure.” He grabbed the insulated to-go cup off Hannah’s bedside table and handed it to her.

  She clutched it, breathing in the citrus spice aroma. “Things have been weird between us this past week. Last week he asked me to marry him. Again.”

  “Again?”

  Josie explained about Nick’s ridiculous proposal the first night they had been reunited. “And now he asked me to marry him, but it’s for Hannah’s sake.”

  “Are you sure it’s not more than that?”

  “He didn’t mention love. Not once.”

  “Do you love him?”

  She sipped her tea, avoiding her dad’s eyes. “No…yes.”

  “Why didn’t you tell him that?”

  “Seriously? I’m not going to marry someone who doesn’t love me. I’m not going have Nick walk out on me when he gets tired of playing family.”

  Dad leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. “Nick is not your mother, sweetheart. He is Hannah’s father and needs to shoulder some of the responsibility.”

  “I’ve been doing just fine for the past ten years. I don’t need his help.” She pushed out of the chair and strode to the window. Hannah’s room overlooked a lower level of the hospital. Thunder rumbled in the distance. Lightning flashed, reflecting off the silver domes on the roof.

  Dad’s chair squeaked as he stood and walked to her, placing his hands on her shoulders. “Your pride and willingness to do everything by yourself is a bit selfish, don’t you think?”

  Josie whirled around, his words wounding her to the core. Nick had said something similar recently. “I’m not selfish.”

  “But holding these tight reins of not needing anyone else’s help is selfish—you’re taking the blessing of fatherhood away from Nick. Always having to do things by yourself without asking for help denies someone else the joy or blessing of helping you.”

  “I just don’t want anyone to think I’m not responsible.”

  “No one thinks that. Where did you get that idea?”

  “Gee, Dad, I wonder.” Josie waved a hand over her daughter. “I wasn’t the most responsible person ten years ago.”

  “Are you kidding me? You’re the most responsible person I know. Yes, you got pregnant, but you worked hard to provide a life for you and Hannah. At times, you put me to shame.”

  “I just don’t want to end up like Mom.”

  “You’re nothing like your mother, Josie. Where did you get such a crazy idea?”

  Josie closed her eyes, hearing the faded anger in her dad’s voice as it pierced the walls all those years ago. She had curled up in her comforter and cried herself to sleep. “After I told you I was pregnant, I heard you and Nonno talking. You said something about me being irresponsible like my mother.”

  Dad scrubbed a hand over his face. “I may have spouted off in the heat of the moment, but I never considered you irresponsible, sweetheart. I’m so sorry if I’m the cause of that wound.”

  She closed her eyes and bathed in the sweetness of being absolved from a lie that weighed her every action. “I just don’t want to let anyone down.”

  “Honey, you’re not doing that at all. You’re a great daughter, a terrific mother, and your customers love you. Who would you be letting down?”

  “I’m sure God’s not so thrilled with what I did.” Josie grabbed her cup and sipped her tea.

  Her dad gave her a compassionate look that patched the wound his words had inflicted a few moments ago. “The Bible is filled with stories of imperfect people being used by God for His glory.” He punctuated the air with his hands. “Look
at David—he took another man’s wife and had her husband killed. Yet, God used him to rule a nation. And Paul used to persecute the very type of people he later preached to. They had something in common with you.”

  “What’s that?” She sank into the chair by her daughter’s bed.

  “Grace. God gives us grace. Not because we deserve it, but because of His love for us.”

  She loved Hannah more than she ever thought physically possible, and there was nothing she couldn’t forgive her daughter for doing. So why was it so hard for her to remember that about God? After all, wasn’t she His daughter?

  Dad crossed to her chair. He touched her head the way she had seen Jesus touch the children in illustrations. A father’s love. “You’re the one who gets everyone going in the morning. You’re quick to offer a smile, a kind word. You have an encourager’s heart. So, I think it’s time you cut yourself some slack because I think the only person you’re letting down is yourself.”

  “What about Nick?” Josie traced the rim of her cup, allowing his words to soften the rigid expectations she had of herself.

  “This isn’t my place, but I think it needs to be said so you understand. Princess, that boy is in love with you.”

  “How do you know?”

  “He told me.”

  Her head jerked up, her heart knocking across her ribs. “He what? When?”

  “Last week when he asked for my permission to marry you.” A smile tugged the corner of her dad’s mouth.

  “When he didn’t say anything, I just assumed.” History was about to repeat itself if she didn’t do something about it. Her assumption that Nick wanted to marry her only because of Hannah was going to push him away. Possibly forever this time. She’d been irresponsible in not taking the time to get all the facts before jumping to conclusions. “When Hannah was born and Nick didn’t come, I assumed he didn’t want us. And now I assumed he didn’t want me because he didn’t say anything about loving me.”

  “Have you considered that maybe Nick was scared—afraid for how you felt about him that he didn’t want to put himself out there? Nick has suffered loss in his life, too, sweetheart.”

  “This whole time I’ve been making it about me.” She stood, setting the cup on the table. “I am selfish. I need to find him. But I can’t leave Hannah.”

  “Yes, you can, sweetheart. This is part of that not needing to do everything on your own. I’ll stay here with her. I think the two of you could straighten out the majority of your problems by setting aside your pride and having a good old-fashioned conversation.”

  “I agree.”

  Josie whirled around to find Nick standing in the doorway, holding Hannah’s stuffed alligator, Duck. She wanted to run to him, fling her arms around his neck and beg him to forgive her. But her feet stayed rooted to the tile floor. “Nick. You came back.”

  “I never left.”

  Dad nodded toward the door. “You two go talk. I’ll stay with Hannah.”

  Before she could do anything, Nick grabbed her hand and propelled her out of the room and down the hall. He didn’t say anything as they moved into the elevator. He jammed the button for the ground floor and kept his eyes fixed on the declining numbers as they lit.

  Josie gripped the railing against the elevator wall and tried not to let fear bully her courage. She could do this. She had to. For Hannah. For herself.

  The elevator came to a stop. The door dinged, then opened. Nick stood back to let her exit and joined her in the corridor. “Come with me.”

  She hurried to keep up with his long strides. He stopped at the door marked Chapel and pushed it open.

  The ringing phones, PA announcements and corridor chatter silenced. Josie’s eyes adjusted to the change in lighting.

  Shadows danced across padded chairs from the flickering votive candles on the side table. The soothing instrumental music coming from a hidden speaker calmed her jittery heart.

  They were alone in the room.

  Not really.

  Josie walked slowly to the front of the room. Her eyes sought the plain cross. She hadn’t ever been alone. She sank on one of the chairs. “I’ve attended church for as long as I could remember. Since Hannah was born, though, I thought I had to shoulder everything by myself. After all, I made my bed.”

  Nick knelt beside Josie, touching her shoulder. “You’ve never been alone.”

  Josie nodded. “I know, but I felt I had to prove myself to be responsible. But I was mistaking responsibility for control. I held on for dear life because if I let go, I was afraid of what God’s plan would be for Hannah. I’m tired, Nick. So tired of being the strong one. Tired of putting on a happy face every day. Tired of treading water.”

  Nick took her hands and pulled her to her feet. “Let go, Josie. I’m here for you. Always.”

  She launched herself into his arms and closed her eyes as Nick cradled her against his chest. Instead of sinking beneath the surface and drowning, Josie pictured herself being lifted out of life’s churning water. She had been rescued.

  *

  Clutching her to his chest, he buried his face in her neck, breathing in the scent of hope and a lifetime of happiness.

  “I’m so sorry, Nick. For everything.”

  “I’m the one who’s sorry.” His voice choked.

  “I said horrible things. I was so scared about Hannah. She’s my whole world.”

  “Is there room in that world for me?”

  “I hope so.” Josie pulled back and looked at Nick. She rubbed her hand alongside his jaw. “I love you, Nick. When you asked me to marry you—both times—you mentioned Hannah, but nothing about me. I didn’t want to be forgotten again. I figured I’d been just fine all this time without you and didn’t need you in my life. But this last week has been miserable without you.”

  “I could never forget you, June bug. I love you.” He brushed the pad of his thumb over her cheekbone, wiping away a tear that leaked from the corner of her eye. “I always have. I’m sorry for the past ten years, but you will never be alone again. I told you I’d never walk out on my family. You are my friend, my love, my family. We will face the future together. This is not the romantic setting I envisioned to sweep you off your feet, but for the third time, marry me?”

  Josie eyed him warily. “After all I put you through? Seriously? What kind of woman makes a man ask her three times to marry him before saying yes?”

  He slid his fingers through her hair, releasing the floral essence of her shampoo. “The kind I fell in love with, apparently. I’m not so sure I can go for a fourth proposal. So how about an answer?”

  “Yes, yes, yes.”

  “I may be unemployed, by the way.”

  “Linwood Park is too far away. There are plenty of universities closer to Shelby Lake where you could apply for teaching positions.”

  “What if I don’t teach? I mean, I’ll apply for a new position to be able to take care of my family, but I’m considering leaving teaching. How would you feel about that?”

  “What are you thinking?”

  “I don’t know yet. We’ll need pray about it, but I’ve thought about kids like Hannah who may not have parents, money for treatments or support. Maybe we could start a foundation or something called Hannah’s Hope. I need to do some research to see what is involved, but I want to reach out to others in need.”

  “I think it’s a beautiful idea.”

  Josie’s cell phone vibrated in her pocket. She fished it out and showed him her father’s number on the display.

  His gut clenched.

  She spoke in low tones, then ended the call. “Dr. Kym is in Hannah’s room and would like to talk with us.”

  Nick stood and pulled Josie to her feet. “No matter what she says, we’re in this together.”

  “Yes. Together.” She stood on tiptoe and brushed a kiss across his lips.

  Before she could pull away, Nick wrapped his arms around her and kissed her with a soundness that hopefully reminded her how he really fe
lt about her. He couldn’t risk losing her again to her own insecurities.

  Nick and Josie left the chapel and rode the elevator to the second floor. Hand in hand, they hurried down the hall toward Hannah’s room.

  Dr. Kym met them outside her door and guided them to a small consultation room. Instead of being dressed in scrubs and a lab coat, Dr. Kym wore a black pencil skirt, white blouse and sensible heels. She gestured to the chairs around the square table.

  Once the three of them sat, she opened the folder she’d carried in. “I have Hannah’s results. This allergic reaction turned out to be a blessing.”

  “How so?”

  “She has a mild lung infection. Normally it’s nothing serious that can’t be cured by a round of antibiotics, but Hannah’s case isn’t typical. I spoke with her team at Mercy Children’s Hospital. They want to see her on Thursday. We would like to keep her here, then transport her by ambulance to the children’s hospital. That way her antibiotics will be finished before they begin the transplant process.” She gave Nick a steady look. “Mr. Brennan, are you still willing to participate as a donor?”

  “Absolutely. I’ll do anything for my daughter.”

  “Terrific. I’ll notify them right away so we can move forward.”

  Nick loved the sound of that. Moving forward. A future. With the woman he loved. And his daughter.

  He raised Josie’s hand to his mouth and brushed a kiss across her knuckles. “We can do this. No matter what happens, I will always be by your side.” He’d tell her every hour if that’s what it took for his words to sink in.

  “No doubt in my mind.” The smile she gave him reflected the peace in her eyes.

  *

  Josie didn’t think her feet touched the floor on the way back to Hannah’s room. Her heart felt so light she was afraid it could float out of her chest. Faith and family. What more could a girl want?

  She brushed a hand over her forehead. “Hey, sweetie, how do you feel?”

  “Hungry.” Hannah’s voice sounded scratchy.

  Josie smiled. “That’s a great sign. Anything in particular?”