Jules shakes a finger at me. “You’re overthinking again. I can see the wheels turning.” Then she hugs me. “Call me when you get there. And if you need anything, even if it’s just someone to make you laugh, you call. Promise?”
“Promise.”
A casually dressed man in dark blue jeans and a pale green polo shirt with an embroidered M.I. logo approaches us. “We’re ready for takeoff whenever you are, Mr. McAllister.”
“Thank ya, Bradley. Would ya stow these bags, please?”
Bradley nods and snatches up the luggage. I try to take Ranger’s leash from Duncan, but he points at the stairs leading up to the plane.
“You’ll need that one hand to hold on ta the rail.”
“Are you insinuating that I’m clumsy?”
“Ah no, Love. I’m saying it straight out.” His laugh is a hearty boom that brings a responsive bark from Ranger. The traitor.
Rather than encourage him, I accept his offer to board first. As I put my foot on the first step, I can’t help but think it would serve him right if I fell and sent us both tumbling backwards. Of course, that would prove him right, something I hate doing. So I hold on tight, determined to keep my balance, no matter what happens.
38
The flight from Las Vegas to Irvine is only about an hour, so once we’re in the air, I don’t waste any time.
“Why did you leave?”
“I haven’t gone anywhere, Love.” Duncan stretches out his legs and grins. “I’m right here.”
“Quit playing games. You know what I mean.”
“Yes, I do.” His grin dissolves, as if it takes too much energy to hold it in place. “That was my sad attempt to put off talking about it.”
I uncross my arms and lean forward. “I’m not crazy about digging into the past, either. But don’t you think we should discuss it before we see Jess?”
He looks out the window, probably hoping he’ll see something to divert my attention, like a smoking engine, or an odd little troll dancing on the wing. But no such luck.
“I left because I had no choice.”
“Your father’s heart attack.”
His eyebrows go up in surprise as he nods. “You know about that?”
Shoot. Now I have to admit that I Googled him. “After we talked the other day, I looked you up on the Internet.”
“Then you know.”
He looks relieved that he doesn’t have to tell me, but I’m not letting him off the hook. “I know why you left, but I don’t understand why you didn’t tell me. You acted like we had something special, but then you were just gone.”
“I handled it badly.”
“You think?” I want to say more, but instead I clamp my lips together and lean back. There’s no point losing my cool now about something that happened so long ago. But I still want to know why.
“The day I left . . . My father’s assistant called and said he was critical. And I knew. I knew he was dying.” He sighs. “I wish I could say my first thought was ta tell ya good-bye, but it wasn’t. All I could think of was getting ta my father before he died.”
“Did you?”
“Just barely. And then I was thrown into his role. I had ta see ta my mother, and I had ta take over his company. There was no time ta think about myself. Suddenly, I had no choice but ta be responsible.”
“And all this time I thought you were being exactly the opposite.” I soften my response with a smile. “I get it now.”
He leans forward, hands out, and for a moment I think he’s going to touch me. But he stops just short of my knee. “Ya have ta believe me, when I finally realized what I’d done to ya, I was so angry with myself. I wanted to call ya, but after acting like such a complete . . . if I’d known ya were pregnant, well, I would have come back for ya.”
I reach out, bridging the gap between us, and take his hand. “If you’d come back for me, that would have been one more mistake on top of the pile of mistakes we both made. And if I’d chosen to keep the baby and raise her alone, that would have been another mistake. Neither one of us was ready to be a parent back then.”
His smile is sadly sweet. “And now?”
“I think we’re ready now to give Jessica what she needs.” After what I mean to be a comforting squeeze, I release his hand and sit back. “I don’t know that I believe everything happens for a reason. But I do believe that God uses everything we do, even our mistakes, and turns them into something good, if we let Him.”
He sits back, too. Then he looks out the window again and says, almost to himself, “I hope that’s true.”
Twenty-six years ago, Duncan and I didn’t discuss our faith. Now, I wonder what he believes in. I thought we were going to California to help Jess, but I’m starting to get the feeling we’re going to get some help for ourselves, too.
***
When we land, a car is waiting for us at the airport. I’m relieved to see it’s a simple sedan, not a limo of any kind. After Bradley transfers our baggage from the jet to the car, he opens the back door for me.
“Thank you.” I climb in and slide over on the seat, making room for Ranger to jump in after me. Bradley shuts the door, which is followed by the sound of a second door slamming. I look to my left and there’s Duncan, smiling like he’s about to spill some delicious secret.
“Why aren’t you sitting up front?” I ask.
“And leave ya alone back here? That wouldn’t be very gentlemanly, would it?”
Now he worries about manners. “Your chivalry is boundless.”
Up front, the driver leans over and looks into the rearview mirror. “To the Beckett house, sir?”
“Yes. Thank ya.” Duncan turns his attention back my way. “We’re going straight to Jess’s. After we see her, then we’ll go to the hotel and get checked in.”
At the mention of the hotel, my breath catches in my chest. We never talked about sleeping arrangements. He doesn’t think—
The laughter that bursts from Duncan is so hearty and loud, it makes Ranger sit up and take notice. “I wish ya could see your terror-stricken face, Nikki. Give me a little credit for common sense. We’ll be in separate rooms.”
“Oh.” Man, it’s hot in the back of this car.
“We can even request different floors, if ya like.”
I wave my hand in front of my face. “No, no, that’s not necessary.” I chance a look at him from the corner of my eye. “Sorry. I guess I’m more nervous than I thought.”
“No need ta be sorry.” He pats my knee in a gesture so quick and casual, there’s no way to misconstrue it as anything but platonic. “Considering my track record, ya have good reason to be cautious.”
I turn my body on the seat and look at him dead-on. “You’re a good man, Duncan. The past is just that. Past.”
He nods, his lips pursed. “That it is. Until the past shows up on your doorstep and says, ‘Hello, let me introduce you to the daughter you never knew you had.’ ”
I glance at the driver, but from the unmoving position of the back of his head, it seems he’s diplomatically ignoring our conversation. “That must have been some shock for you.”
“Ah, that’s a mild way of putting it.” This time his laugh is short, hard, brittle. “The jerk from the show told me I was going out there to see ya. He made no mention of a long-lost child.”
What a startling way for him to find out. It was hard enough for me to meet Jess for the first time, and I knew she existed. “Well, you two sure hit it off right away.”
“I always wished I had a daughter. Not that I’d trade my boys. The little hooligans are just enough like me ta be interesting, but not so much ta keep me up at night.” He leans forward on one hip and takes his cell phone from his back pocket. After a moment of tapping and scrolling, he hands it to me. “That’s William, on the right. He’s in his second year at Cambridge. And Daniel is taking a year off from school, deciding what to do with his life.”
I laugh at his description of them as little. The two a
re tall and muscular, just like their father, but their hair, eyes, and skin are much lighter. They must get that from their mother. I want to ask about her, but then the conversation would invariably turn to me and my lack of a love life. That’s one road I have no desire to go down.
“They look like fine young men. You must be very proud of them.”
He nods as he takes back his phone. “That I am.”
We stay silent for the rest of the drive. Ten minutes later, we’ve come into a lovely neighborhood with wide streets and sidewalks you just know were designed for health-conscious young mothers with jogger strollers. The homes are pristine, all with fresh paint, neatly manicured yards, and colorful flower beds.
“A planned community,” Duncan says, his tone less than complimentary.
“You don’t approve?”
“Strikes me as cold. There’s no room for individuality.” He shrugs. “But that’s just me. I still live in the same wee cottage me Da bought for Ma.”
“You do?”
He smiles, and his eyes twinkle with mischief. “Well, now, it’s updated, of course. And there have been a few additions over the years.”
“A few additions?” My eyes narrow. “Like what?”
“A few bedrooms and bathrooms. A better kitchen.” He rolls his eyes upward, as if reading some invisible list on the car roof. “Oh, and the game room.”
I laugh. “Yes, because what traditional Scottish cottage would be complete without a game room?”
“Exactly. Ya should visit some time. I remember how much ya loved the Centipede game.”
When we first met, we spent hours playing at our favorite pizza joint. But the classic arcade game was almost impossible to find now. “I haven’t seen a Centipede game in years. You really have one?”
“I do. And I have a big bowl of tokens for guests.” He smiles warmly. “You’re welcome any time.”
The car slows, and the driver pulls over, parking in front of a two-story white house with dark green shutters and a deep-red door.
“Here we are, sir.”
Duncan looks at the house, then looks at me. “Are ya ready?”
This shouldn’t be so hard. Jess invited us, so I know she wants us here. But this time around, we’re on her turf. No cameras, no TV host to guide us through awkward moments. And the thought of meeting her real parents, the parents of her heart, terrifies me.
“Nikki?”
“No, I’m not ready. Are you?”
His head moves slowly from side to side. “Not even close.”
All right then. I hold out my good hand, palm up, and he takes it in his. Then I give his fingers a squeeze and take a deep breath. “Let’s go.”
It’s time to see our daughter in her natural habitat.
39
We’re halfway up the flagstone walk when the door opens and Jess bursts out of the house.
“Hey!” She dashes to meet us halfway, then stops short just before we collide.
We stand looking at each other, not quite sure how to handle this moment. Finally, I raise my hand in an awkward hello wave. “Hey, Jess.”
Duncan isn’t as controlled. With one stride he’s by her side, his arm around her shoulder, pulling her close against him. “Good ta see ya, Love.”
She smiles up at him, and I can already see a difference between Jess-on-the-island and Jess-at-home. A week back to real life with easy access to food, water, and a dry bed has softened the hard-edged, stress-filled look we all acquired by the end of our adventure.
“You look good,” I say.
“Thanks. So do you.” She points at my cast. “Other than that, you look injury-free.”
“I’m glad the bruises went away. They were pretty hard to explain.” Ranger tugs on the leash, whining and straining to get closer to Jess. “Sorry. He’s not going to calm down until you say hello to him.”
With a grin, she goes down on one knee and sinks her fingers into the ruff of fur around his neck. “Nice to meet you, Ranger.”
As he licks her face, Duncan chuckles. “Obviously, ya passed his test. Now ya belong to the pack.”
After one last scratch to his back, she stands up and looks behind us. “Where’s your luggage?”
“In the car,” Duncan says. “We wanted ta see ya first before going ta the hotel.”
Jess frowns. “Don’t you want to stay here?”
I glance at Duncan who’s as surprised by her question as I am. “We didn’t know that was an option.” I look over her shoulder at the house. “Do your parents have room?”
“Of course. We’ve got two rooms ready for you guys. Ranger, too.” Her smile is tentative, guarded against possible rejection. “We really want you to stay here.”
We. She and her real parents talked together, worked to-gether, to welcome her technical parents into their home. What am I thinking? If I could do it without causing a scene, I’d smack myself across the face right now. I have got to get over this petty jealousy.
“In that case, we’d love to.” With a smile that’s 90 percent genuine, I look at Duncan. “Let’s get our bags.”
“No need.” He gives Jess another squeeze and kisses the top of her head. “You gals go inside. I’ll handle the luggage. And perhaps I should take Ranger to the backyard?”
“That would be great.” Jess points to the gate in the tall, white fence surrounding the yard.
As he walks away with Ranger in tow, I have a powerful urge to run after him, grab his arm, and force him to come with me. But I control myself. After all, I’m not walking into an enemy compound. I may feel like it’s three against one, but really, we’re all on the same side.
Shoulders back, attitude positive, I give Jess a nod. “After you.”
***
I did a lot of research on ALS since Jess told me about her mother’s illness. But no matter how many articles and blogs I read, nothing prepares me for seeing Susan Beckett face-to-face.
Jess led me down a ramp, which I’m sure wasn’t part of the home’s original design, and into the living area. A man and woman sit together, he on the end of the couch, she in a wheelchair beside him. As we enter the room, he stands and comes to me, hand extended.
“Miss Stanton, I can’t tell you how happy we are to see you.” His smile pushes up cherubic cheeks as he surrounds my hand with both of his and pumps for all he’s worth.
“The feeling is mutual. And please, it’s Monica.”
“Monica. Of course. I’m Robert. And this is my wife, Susan.”
He steps aside, releasing my hand and motioning toward the woman in the wheelchair. The short cut of her sandy-blonde hair, while easy to manage, emphasizes her sunken cheeks. In an involuntary movement, her left index finger taps on the armrest of her chair. But when she smiles, the movement slow and deliberate, her eyes light up. Susan Beckett’s body is frail, but there’s no hiding the strength inside her.
“Hello, Monica.” Her words are thick, like molasses making its way through the neck of a bottle.
“Susan.” Tears prick the back of my eyes, demanding to be let loose, but I refuse to cry in front of this brave woman. I take Robert’s former spot on the couch and then, even though I’m clueless to the etiquette of the situation, I gently place my hand on top of hers. “Thank you.”
There are many ways to interpret my thanks, and from the look on her face, I believe Susan understands all of them.
Duncan comes into the room and says something to Jess.
“Mom, Dad. This is Duncan.”
In a moment, Robert has captured Duncan’s hand in the same rapid-action, pumping shake he gave mine. Watching the two of them, I can’t help but smile. Robert is a good five inches shorter than Duncan, with a hairline that has receded all the way to the back of his head. Duncan is, well . . . he’s Duncan. But there’s a mutual respect between the two men that transcends appearances.
I look over at Jess. She leans against the doorjamb, arms crossed, watching her two sets of parents meeting each other for
the first time, and there’s no way to misinterpret what she’s feeling.
Pure, unmistakable joy.
***
“Let me get this straight. You and Duncan are staying at their house?”
“Yep.”
As soon as Jess showed me to my room and told me to take some time to settle in, I called Jules to give her a status report. Now, I’m stretched out on the twin bed, leaning against the pillows wedged between me and the headboard.
“Jess has an apartment nearby, but she’s staying here for the next few days. And I’m pretty sure the room they gave me is Jess’s old room.”
“How can you tell?”
“It’s pink.”
Jules makes a strangling sound. “Flamingo pink or Pepto pink?”
“Both. And then some.”
The walls are a very pale shade of pink, like melted vanilla ice cream mixed with a spoonful of strawberry syrup. Frilly, bubble-gum pink curtains frame the windows. The carpet is deep red, like the inside of a red velvet cake. The whole room is starting to make me hungry.
I’ve never been a girly-girl myself, but somehow, this room feels right. It’s no surprise that the girl who grew up in this room became a fashion designer, or that her parents would want to keep it just like it is for as long as they could.
“It’s not how I’d decorate, but I like it.”
“That’s what matters. And how are things going with Duncan?”
“I told you, we had a good talk on the plane and on the ride over here. We’re getting along fine.”
“Just fine?”
Uh oh. Jules has just switched into matchmaker mode. “I’m not interested in getting along with him any other way.”
“That’s right. You’re saving yourself for a certain reality show host.”
I’m glad she can’t see my stupid grin. “I’ll admit, the idea of seeing Rick again has crossed my mind. But for now, dating needs to take a backseat.”
We chat a few more minutes, then, with a promise to call her back when I have something new and interesting to share, I hang up and drop my phone on the bed. Running my fingers over the bedspread, I wonder who picked it out. Jess or Susan? The fabric is an abstract pattern of bright pinks, purples, yellows, and greens, and is something a teenager would be likely to choose. They probably picked it out together. It’s good to know Jess grew up in a house where her creativity and flair were not only accepted but encouraged.
Last Family Standing Page 23