Love's Stormy Gale (Heartsong Presents)

by Lynette Sowell

  “That’s why I’m finishing now before she gets home from work.” Sam coughed, and even inside the front room Jonathan heard the rattle in the man’s chest.

  “Right. Just like calories vanish if you break a cookie in half, like my mother says.” Jonathan joined Sam outside. He paused, but wanted to clear out before Olivia arrived home. He didn’t want another replay of their conversation from the other night.

  “So you’re ganging up on me, too, are ya?”

  “Nope.” Jonathan chuckled. “You’re a grown man. I think your mother finished raising you a long time ago.”

  Sam blew an O of smoke “Now if I can convince my daughter of that, I’ll be all set.”

  “She worries about you.” He hadn’t meant to chide the man about his habit. And now if he didn’t find a quick yet polite way to back out of the conversation, he ran the risk of running into Olivia.

  As if Sam sensed Jonathan’s thoughts, the older man changed the subject. “She worries about you, too, you know.”

  “Yeah.”

  “And I know you can’t help it.”

  “What do you mean?”

  Sam shifted on the rocking chair. “First time you went back out, I think she relived several years ago, when she said good-bye to someone else she loved.”

  Loved? She loved him? Jonathan’s head swam. Of course Olivia had been irritated the other night, the way he’d talked about the desk. But then she said they should remain only friends. Women.

  “There she is now.” Sam gave a nod as Olivia’s car pulled into the driveway.

  “Guess I should go.” From his spot on the porch, Jonathan saw the dismay on Olivia’s face.

  “Stay for supper.” Sam coughed. “Don’t know what’s on for tonight. Friday’s pretty low-key around here.” His rough hand slid the now-extinguished pipe into his pocket.

  The car door slammed, then Olivia headed toward the porch. “Hey, Dad, Jonathan.” She looked as happy to see him as someone going for a root canal.

  “Jon’s staying for supper tonight. I figured he and I can hash over the details for the desk.” Sam and Jonathan followed Olivia into the house.

  “Now, Sam, I don’t have to…” Jonathan began.

  “That’s fine if you stay, Jonathan.” Olivia was staring at the floor. “I, uh, have plans tonight, so I won’t be here for dinner.”

  “Is that so?” Sam’s eyebrows shot up. “Hmm, suppose me and Jonathan could go to the Sea Dawg for a bite, us two bachelors.”

  Yes, that sounded fine to Jonathan, too. Usually forthcoming about her activities, Olivia had clamped her lips together after mentioning her plans, which probably meant one thing: She had a date. And Jonathan didn’t want to be here when the guy arrived.

  *

  Olivia didn’t watch Jonathan’s Jeep pull away outside. Frank would meet her at the Sea Dawg in less than an hour, and here she was, still in her work clothes. She hurried through a shower and into a comfortable dress. But they were only having dinner at the best greasy spoon in town.

  The whine of the hair dryer masked Olivia’s sigh. She couldn’t stop thinking about Jonathan. He was a good friend, and she wanted to keep him as a friend, even if she had to release her love for him.

  If she could distance herself enough from Jonathan, perhaps in time the ache would go away.

  “You look frightful,” she said to the reflection with brown wavy hair gently cascading to its shoulders. “Anyone would think you were getting ready for a funeral by the expression on your face.”

  Olivia tried to brighten her thoughts. Frank had mentioned grabbing a snack, then going to the high school’s one-act play night. Frank had called nearly every night for the past week, and she felt comfortable getting to know him.

  Lord, my life is getting on track again. I’m doing the work I love, still here with Dad because he needs me. And now someone like Frank’s come along. He’s a nice guy…. Olivia applied some eyeliner. She needed to forget her feelings for Jonathan. There was no way out of their stalemate that she could see. A friendly night out with Frank would be a good way to begin to put Jonathan out of her heart.

  *

  “Now, would you look at that?” Sam nodded toward the doorway of the Sea Dawg.

  Jonathan took a sip of coffee before turning around in his chair, and he almost choked.

  A tall man with dark curly hair was helping Olivia with her coat. Her hair hung loose and glowed a golden brown under the lighting. Her emerald green dress hugged her curves demurely and revealed a flash of knee. Jonathan faced back around before Olivia saw him staring.

  “I knew she’d met the new teacher at the elementary school, but I had no idea it was Nazarro Pappalardo’s boy.” Sam continued to look across the room, his blue eyes undoubtedly watching his daughter and her date.

  “Didn’t the Pappalardos move away years ago? I remember that name from grade school.” From the corner of his eye, Jonathan saw them escorted to one of the window tables. Like a gentleman, Frank seated Olivia before seating himself. They opened the laminated menus.

  “Yeah. Nazarro’s brother Isadore still lives here. I just saw him yesterday, and he mentioned Frank was in town again. A shame that boy broke family tradition and got a land job.” Sam shook his head.

  “It happens.” Jonathan flipped the bill over and reached for his wallet.

  “You going to get a refill of coffee and try not to stare at Liv and Frank?”

  “I’d rather not. I need to get some prices for boat parts. Pete’s signed the boat over to me and it needs a good overhaul before I go out again.”

  The two men paid the bill and left the restaurant. Olivia had given no sign that she’d seen either her father or Jonathan, for which Jonathan was grateful.

  “You sure you haven’t bitten off more than you can chew, son?” Sam asked as they walked to the Jeep.

  Jonathan shook his head. “No, I knew what I was getting into.” He didn’t bother to say the past two runs had been dismal, and he’d started dipping into his reserve funds for expenses.

  *

  “Why don’t you come on in?” Sam unlocked the front door of the house. “I can show you the boat suppliers’ sites on the internet. You can even print out a price list.” Sam paused, then coughed. “Oughta put some of my learning from that computer class to use.”

  “Sure, why not?”

  When they entered the house, Jonathan could smell a whiff of Olivia’s perfume lingering in the air. Sam cracked his knuckles, pushed a button and the computer whirred to life. Within a few minutes Sam had pulled up some websites for boat engines.

  “This is great, Sam. I need to write these down.”

  “Never mind that. Watch.” He pushed a button, and the price list printed. A coughing fit racked his body. Sam snatched a tissue from the box on the desk and held it to his mouth.

  “Hey, are you okay?”

  Sam nodded and mumbled around the tissue. “This will pass. Just a fall bug I picked up. Do me a favor. Make a pot of decaf, would you?”

  “Sure.” Jonathan left for the kitchen. Something was wrong with Sam. He felt it in his gut. He got the coffee brewing, all the while thinking of ways to convince the man he needed to see a doctor. More coughing came from the front room.

  Maybe someone could talk some sense into the mule-headed lobsterman. Jonathan squared his shoulders, preparing to announce that coffee would be ready soon. He froze when he saw Sam sitting at the desk.

  He hadn’t seen so much blood in one place since Stumpy bashed his head on his bunk the last time they’d shipped out. The tissue Sam held up to his mouth bloomed red, and drops of blood had spattered on his shirt and onto the hardwood floor.

  Chapter 11

  “Thanks. I had fun.” Olivia shivered in the chilly air as Frank escorted her to her front door. She appreciated his following her home to make sure she arrived all right.

  “I did, too. It was nice seeing the town again, even if we missed the play.” Frank’s eyes glowed under th
e porch light. They’d gone for a drive in his car, past the high school stomping grounds and to the harbor park.

  “I can make us some more coffee if you want to stay for a bit. Dad might be up.” She noted her father’s truck in the driveway and wondered about his reaction to Frank.

  “Sounds good.”

  Olivia’s key turned too easily in the lock, and when she turned to push the door open, she expected to see the glow of lights from the living room and hear the late news show blaring. Pop would be snoring in the easy chair.

  Then she saw the bloody tissues on the floor in front of the desk.

  “What in the world?” Her pulse leaped into her throat.

  Frank stood next to her in the front room. “What’s wrong?”

  “I need to find out what happened to Dad.” She gestured to the tissues. Her stomach had tied itself into a knot. “Dad? Where are you?” She checked her phone, which she’d muted. Jonathan had called an hour ago.

  Lights were on throughout the downstairs and a full pot of coffee waited on the kitchen counter. The linen closet door was open, and a few towels had fallen to the floor. As Olivia scanned the empty house, pinpricks of dread tingled her spine.

  “I need to call Jonathan.” Olivia noticed the answering machine light blinking.

  She played the message. “Liv, it’s Jon. I brought your dad to the E.R. tonight. He’s got pneumonia, so they want to keep him.” The phone line crackled. “If you get home before midnight, come to the E.R.—they don’t expect to have a room for him by then. I’ll wait for you.”

  Olivia felt chilled to the core at Jonathan’s words, but hearing his voice sent a warmth through her that dulled the cold. Frank’s hand held her elbow.

  “I’ll drive you.”

  “Thanks. I need to get some things for Dad in case they keep him.” Think, don’t panic, think.

  She pounded up the stairs to her father’s room. Olivia couldn’t remember the last time she’d entered the hallowed territory.

  The picture of a dark-haired woman wearing a prim sweater and a pearl necklace smiled at Olivia. She ignored the impulse to turn the picture of her mother facedown on the nightstand. Instead, Olivia found one of her dad’s work shirts, some underclothes, pajamas and a pair of pants in the bureau.

  He’d kept her mother’s picture. Her mother still smiled at Olivia’s dad each night before he turned in. Was that why he sometimes fell asleep downstairs at night? Why didn’t he just put her photo away for good?

  “And if he got rid of your picture, you’d be gone forever.” Olivia shivered and rubbed her arms. She’d have to turn on the heat before she left.

  No time now, though, to let any feelings about her mother resurface. Frank waited downstairs and Dad needed her. Olivia prayed for strength to make it through the next hours with her emotions intact. The fact that Jonathan and Frank would both be with her seemed unimportant. She’d deal with any awkward moments if or when they happened.

  *

  Jonathan drank the last sip of his third cup of coffee from the vending machine. He was running out of change and his body screamed for sleep. He’d come in that morning, early, from a fishing trip and hadn’t rested. Now he wished he had.

  His second wind came when he saw Olivia enter the emergency room’s sliding doors. She carried an overnight bag and her gaze met his. Frank Pappalardo followed in her wake.

  “Where’s Dad?” Olivia placed the overnight bag on the floor.

  Then she was in Jonathan’s arms, holding on as if he were a lifeline. Jonathan allowed himself to breathe in the scent of her hair, still down around her shoulders. She trembled as he held her.

  Remembering Frank, Jonathan released her from the hug, but kept an arm around her shoulders and took the bag. “He’s still in an exam room. They’ve given him an antibiotic shot and some breathing treatments to clear up his lungs, and he’s on oxygen now.”

  “I want to talk to his nurse or doctor or whoever’s in charge.” She looked around the room as though she would pounce on the next official-looking person wearing scrubs who came in her direction.

  “We’ll find someone. There’s the nurse who gave him the shot. We’ll talk to her.” Jonathan steered Olivia toward the clerk writing notes on a clipboard. He noticed Frank had taken a seat.

  Jonathan introduced Olivia to the nurse, who escorted her back to the exam room wing of the E.R.

  Frank had removed his tie when Jonathan returned to the waiting area. Even though Frank looked tired, he still wore the GQ look women went nuts over. Jonathan couldn’t remember the last time he had worn a tie. He wasn’t quite sure if he owned one.

  “Hey, I’m Jonathan Barrotta.” He extended his hand, which Frank shook. Jonathan took the seat across from Frank.

  “Frank Pappalardo.”

  “Yeah. You used to live here when we were kids. Sam told me earlier.”

  Frank nodded. “I came back to work and be near some of my family. I never liked living in the mountains in western Mass. Too landlocked for me.”

  Jonathan had seen Frank in church but hadn’t introduced himself yet. It didn’t seem they had much in common. Except for the Lord and Olivia. There had to be something else to talk about, to break the ice. Jonathan didn’t want to clam up and act like a jerk, even if Frank had spent more time with Olivia tonight than Jonathan had in the last month.

  “So, you been following the playoffs?” Jonathan ventured with a question.

  Frank nodded. “In fact, my uncle’s hoping to get World Series tickets if the Sox make it. Wouldn’t that be something?” Then he laughed. “Imagine that. Maybe they’d win.”

  Jonathan snorted. “Yeah! That’d be something, all right, considering the Pats’ Super Bowl win.”

  Conversation fell flat after that. A schoolteacher, that’s what Frank did for a living. What would he and a fisherman have to talk about? Jonathan secretly hoped Frank would leave.

  “You teach school?”

  “Yeah, third grade. I’ve got my hands full, but I love kids. I like knowing I’m having an impact on their future.” Frank’s face took on an animated expression as he began telling stories of “his kids,” as he called them. In a way, Jonathan realized, the man reminded him of Robby. He had the same charisma, open smile and charming nature. And it took a special man to devote his career to children. Of course Olivia liked Frank.

  An hour later, Olivia appeared. She hesitated as though not sure about which man to sit near, then settled onto a chair a few seats down from both of them.

  “Well, Dad’s doing okay. He’s in his room now. They, uh, found a spot on his right lung so they’re going to do a CAT scan in the morning.” She looked from Frank to Jonathan. “Thanks, guys, for staying so late. I appreciate it.” A pretty blush suffused her cheeks.

  Frank spoke up first. “It’s no problem. Are you ready to go now, or are you staying longer?”

  She grinned. “Dad ordered me to go home and rest. I can come back in the morning.”

  Jonathan stood. She came with Frank, and she’d leave with Frank. He could live with that. He knew when to back off when she and Robby started dating. He could do the same again.

  “Good night, then. Liv, if there’s anything I can do…” The words sounded feeble to his ears.

  “Thanks, Jon. You’ve been terrific. I’m glad you were there tonight.” Her voice caught. She squeezed his arm.

  But as he left, Jonathan knew she wouldn’t call him. Not as long as she had Frank around.

  *

  The house had warmed up nicely by the time Olivia arrived home. Frank walked her to the door, and they said good-night, which was nearly all they’d said since leaving the hospital. She wanted to talk to someone and his friendship felt too new to lay this on him. Poor Frank.

  Olivia showered again, letting the water warm her chilled soul and turn her fingers wrinkly. Once settled into her warm terry cloth robe and slippers, she sat at the kitchen table with a cup of decaf coffee and her Bible. No matter that it was
after one in the morning. Sleep could wait.

  Oh, Dad, why didn’t you listen? Why didn’t you get rid of that tobacco years ago? She wouldn’t allow herself to think the worst. Maybe the doctors had made a mistake about the spot on his lung. Tomorrow morning when she went to the hospital, she would find her dad driving the nurses nuts and packing to go home. He would resume griping about the high price of diesel fuel and mumbling that the market lobster prices needed to be higher.

  Olivia started to pray, then fumbled over her words. “Why, God? Why now?” she muttered at the sacred pages before her. “It’s always like playing Russian roulette when I pray. I prayed—” Her voice caught in her throat.

  The image came back to her of a little girl with brown pigtails, hands folded as she knelt at her bedside, begging God for her mommy to come home to them. No answer. Then Robby. A resounding “no.” More recently, Maggie and the baby. She got her answer that time. Both were still safe and doing well. And now, Olivia poised at the edge of asking God to help again.

  “I’m sorry, Lord. I’m afraid to ask You. Afraid I’ll be disappointed again.” She whisked a fallen tear from the thin page. “I don’t know what to do.”

  After several minutes of listening to the furnace powering up to cycle heat through the house, listening to the coffeepot gurgle on the counter and the refrigerator compressor cycle on, Olivia stood up and sighed. The heavens were as brass. Her well-ordered life was a sham. Under the still waters, the current churned violently. She spent a restless night, dreading the coming morning.

  *

  Jonathan whistled under his breath as he walked to Sam’s hospital room. After a few cups of coffee, he actually felt half-human. Maybe Olivia would be with her father. He wasn’t sure whether he hoped to see her or not.

  He knocked softly on the door frame before entering. Sam was dabbing at a plate of fruit, yogurt and toast while the television blared news from the twenty-four-hour station.

  “Hey, Sam. You scared us last night.”

  “I still say I’ve got one of those autumn colds.” Sam swallowed, then continued. “They already sent me down for a scan. The doctor’s going to let me know soon when I can go home.”