The Unimaginable

by Dina Silver

  That’s what I didn’t know. I knew Grant wasn’t being insensitive to Quinn, and I didn’t want to get defensive because, selfishly, I was more concerned with losing him than anything else. If anything, Quinn would have wanted Grant to finish his journey and his dream of sailing around the world. And then I thought about how he didn’t want to contact his family after we were rescued. Maybe he wanted to just go on with his life all along. Maybe he’d suffered enough with the death of his wife for one lifetime, and he was resigned to never look back no matter what. But was he willing to look forward?

  He lifted my chin. “Hey, look at me. I’m going to have to make a decision soon, and leaving you is a huge factor. Please know that. I left my life—or what I had of it—to rebuild and to accomplish something I’d always wanted to do . . . just like you did.” He ran his hand through his hair. “Now, I can’t speak for you or tell you what to do, but I will do everything I can to make sure you don’t let them—those dirty Somalian pricks—derail the plans you had for yourself. The dreams you had.

  “You and I and Quinn had a very, very bad, terrible thing happen to us. And I will work for the rest of my life to not blame myself for what happened. For Quinn and for you. If there is any solace in this tragedy, it has to be that we don’t let it rule our future. If this event changes who you are and catapults you back to a place you clawed your way out of, then I will never forgive myself.” He propped himself up on one elbow. “I don’t want you to make any promises to me, but please don’t let this ruin the life you’ve always wanted for yourself. I simply couldn’t live with that.”

  I managed a smile. “And I simply can’t live without you.”

  He released a small breath through his nose.

  “I know that sounds dramatic and filled with pressure you don’t need right now, but before we’d even left Thailand, I was worried about saying good-bye to you at the end of the trip.” His face was stoic. “It’s no secret how I feel about you, and as much as I want to go back to my life in Phuket, I won’t be happy there or anywhere without you.”

  It wasn’t lost on me that he hadn’t reciprocated my sentiment when I told him I loved him. I thought about that the instant I woke up the next morning. And while I didn’t say it just to hear it, I couldn’t help but wonder how he really felt about me.

  He kissed me. “Well the last thing I want is for you to be unhappy.”

  A few hours later, we awoke to a knock on the door. It nearly scared me out of my skin and it took me a few minutes to make sense of where I was and what time it was. The first thing I thought of was Quinn. I craned my neck and looked at the clock that was on the nightstand next to Grant: 9:45 a.m. My brain hurt when someone knocked again. I swung my legs out of bed and walked to the door.

  “Yes?” I said, my voice cracking.

  “It’s Walter Morgan, Ms. Gregory. We’re going to need you both outside in thirty minutes.”

  “Okay, thank you.”

  Grant was awake and stretching when I turned around.

  “They need us in a half hour.”

  He nodded and then spoke. “Come here.”

  I sat next to him on the bed. He was naked, with only the sheet covering him from the waist down, and he looked glorious. Tan and strong and beautiful and alive.

  I placed my hand on his chest. “Today is going to be so hard, Grant.”

  “Yes, it is.”

  “I just can’t wrap my head around the fact that I’m back in the States, about to see my sister again. My life in Thailand seems so far away from here.”

  He pulled me closer, and I laid my head over his heart.

  “It’s going to be a rough day, for sure. It’s all I’ve been thinking about—having to face Bridget and Quinn’s family—and what can I say to them? What can I possibly say that is going to ease an ounce of their pain? That is, if they can even look at me.”

  I sat up and met his eyes with mine. “You just be yourself. They will know in an instant what a good man you are and how much this pains you. They are not going to blame you. They can’t.”

  “They can,” he said quietly.

  “Whatever they do and however they act is out of your control. Just express how you feel the best way you can, and that’s all you can do. Quinn knows how much you cared about him, and how lucky any of us are to be alive. He would never, ever hold you accountable for what happened, and that’s all that matters. He’s all that matters.”

  Grant pursed his lips and nodded.

  As soon as we were dressed and bundled up, Walter Morgan, along with a junior navy officer, drove us to Norfolk International Airport, where we boarded Delta Airlines Flight 453 to Miami.

  When we landed, we were asked to stay on board the plane until all the other passengers had left, and then a woman dressed in a dark blue pencil skirt, white short-sleeved blouse, and heels met us on the plane.

  “Grant Flynn and Jessica Gregory?”

  “Yes,” Grant answered.

  “I’m Dana Williams, with the NTSB. It’s lovely to meet you. The ground crew is just removing the Jetway and affixing the ladder so we can exit outside. I’ll be taking you to one of our staff rooms on the lower level of the airport, where your families are waiting.”

  Grant didn’t have any family waiting for him, only Quinn’s.

  Once the ladder was ready, we followed Dana down to the ground level and were shown into a room with two doors, where we finally removed our coats. It was nice to be back in a warm climate.

  “Wait here one moment, if you will,” Dana said.

  About two minutes later, my sister Caroline burst through the door.

  Chapter 29

  I ran into Caroline’s arms and embraced her like I hadn’t seen her for years. She smelled like home, and I inhaled her scent like it was a drug. Caroline sobbed and laughed and looked me up and down like we were meeting for the first time.

  She embraced me again and then pulled back, with her fingers still gripping my shoulders.

  “I just can’t believe it’s you. I’ve missed you so much, sweetie. Your hair is so long and blond, Jess. You look beautiful.” She clasped a hand over her mouth. “I can’t tell you how wonderful it is to have you standing here with me.” She glanced at the man standing awkwardly next to her.

  “Welcome home,” he said. “We’re so relieved.”

  Short, portly, bald, and wearing wire-rimmed glasses, Allen Hamlish looked every bit the banker he was. He was kind and polite but had about as much of a sense of humor as he did hair. Caroline had been dating him since the week after Mom’s funeral. I’d only met him twice before, but I was grateful she had someone.

  “Thank you,” I said to him.

  Grant walked up from behind me and introduced himself.

  “I’m Grant. Jessica has told me so much about you,” he said, and extended his right hand, but Caroline pulled him to her and hugged him instead, still sobbing.

  “Thank you for keeping her safe and returning her to us in one piece,” she said. “I can’t tell you how worried I was.”

  Grant shook his head and furrowed his brow. “Please don’t thank me. If anything, I put her in danger, and I am so sorry for that.”

  “Um,” I interjected, and tapped her on the shoulder so she would release him. “I think Grant and I need to find Quinn’s family, and then we can meet up with you later, okay?”

  She latched onto my hand tightly. “Do you have to go?” she whispered.

  “I do, but I’ll be back. I promise.”

  Just then I saw Grant turn his attention to the two large windows that overlooked the runways, and the five of us watched as Quinn’s casket was brought off the plane.

  Caroline mustered a tiny smile and looked at Grant, then at me. “Of course.” She dabbed her nose with a tissue. “I understand. We’ll be waiting for you in here when you’re through. Please take as much time as you need.”

  Grant and I looked over at Dana.

  “Follow me,” she said, and we did.
/>   Grant and I were led to a larger room down the hall. There were six people waiting for us when we entered, and I burst into tears as soon as I saw them.

  “I’m so sorry.” I lifted a hand to shield my face as a young woman whom I recognized all too well approached me. I lifted my arms to embrace her, and we hugged.

  “I’m so sorry, Bridget. You have no idea.”

  She wept into my shoulder and then pulled away and tried her best to put on a brave face. She held my hand as we followed Grant to where Quinn’s parents and brother were sitting, along with Bridget’s mom and a woman who leapt to her feet and ran into Grant’s arms as soon as she saw him.

  She was petite and blond like me, and about ten years younger than him—also like me. She was impeccably dressed—so much so that I glanced down at my shapeless navy-issue blue polo shirt and khaki pants and recoiled. Her eyebrows were expertly shaped, her hair blown to perfection, her designer sandals with nary an ounce of dirt, and her French-manicured nails were on his back. She gently quivered as they hugged. Grant cradled the back of her head before pulling away and approaching Quinn’s mom and dad. He crouched before their chairs. I took a couple steps forward, still holding Bridget’s hand, as the blond mystery woman stood closely by Grant’s side.

  Quinn’s parents acknowledged him with a nod. They weren’t crying in that moment, but you could tell they had been. They were simple-looking people with nondescript clothing. Quinn’s father looked like he had just come in from a day of fishing, and his mom was wearing the same gray, Easy Spirit lace-up shoes that my mom used to wear. What do you wear to pick up your son’s casket from the airport? You can’t very well justify getting dressed up for that.

  Quinn’s dad placed a hand on Grant’s shoulder. “Thank you for bringing him home.”

  I closed my eyes and fought back tears.

  Grant nodded and then quietly broke down. He placed his elbow on his knee and his head in his hands. Blondie rubbed his back until he gently lifted his hand to stop her.

  “This is not how I wanted to bring him home.” He choked out his words and then sniffed. “For days I’ve been trying to think of what I can say to you, but I have no words to express my regret. Quinn was beyond compare. He was always there for me, with a smile and a wisecrack, and I will never, ever forget him for the positive influence he had on my life.”

  He turned, bleary eyed, and stood to face Bridget. He was about to speak but just threw his arms up in defeat. My heart broke over and over for him and everyone in that room.

  Grant sniffed again and wiped his face with the back of his hand. “Bridget, he loved you so much.” He paused. “I know you know that, but you should also know that you were all he talked about and thought about and dreamt about. I don’t want to make this any harder on you; I just want you to know that you were the light in his life and you were with him until the very end.”

  She let go of my hand and embraced Grant.

  “Thank you,” I heard her say softly, then pull away and place her hands on his shoulders. “You’re so right. He was a positive force beyond compare, and he would hate to see everyone so sad.” She paused to wipe her cheek. “All he ever wanted was to lift people’s spirits, not to crush them. You must always try and remember that when you think of him. I know I will.”

  Grant nodded.

  She stepped away, and Grant took my hand, but it felt wrong for some reason, so I casually pulled it back.

  “Jessica,” Grant said, “this is my sister-in-law, Marie.” The blond woman stepped forward. “Marie, this is Jessica. She was also with us on the boat when we were attacked.”

  Jane’s sister smiled at me and nodded. “I’m so glad you’re safe now,” she said quietly, and then looked at Grant. “That you both are.”

  Grant spoke to me. “Marie and Quinn were friends. They used to work together a few years back when Quinn was interning at the station. Marie is a news anchor in Fort Lauderdale.”

  “I see,” I said, and cocked my head to the side. “I’m so sorry for your loss.” The words were stale and void of compassion, so much so that I almost didn’t recognize my own voice. I shook my head. “I’m . . . this has been so hard. I don’t know what to say. It’s just awful, and Quinn was so amazing . . .” I began to cry, and Grant wrapped me in his arms.

  “Shh. It’s okay.”

  I let go of him, and Marie rubbed my arm with her hand. “You’ve been through a terrible ordeal. We’re all so sorry for what you went through. I can’t fathom it.” She made a tsk sound and shook her head. “It’s inconceivable, evil like that.”

  “Yes,” I agreed.

  Dana entered the room with two other people. “We’re ready when you are. No hurry,” she said.

  Quinn’s brother hooked his arm around his mother’s arm, and they followed Dana out, with Bridget and her mother in tow. I grabbed Bridget’s elbow just as she was about to walk past me, and we made eye contact.

  “I just wanted to tell you that your quilt is with him.”

  She placed her hand over her heart. “Thank you,” she whispered, and walked out.

  Grant reached for my hand again, and I saw Marie’s eyes glance at our entwined fingers. I didn’t want to hurt his feelings by letting go a second time, but I wasn’t comfortable.

  “Can we sit for a minute?” she asked us.

  “Of course,” Grant said, and we all took a seat at the table where Quinn’s family had been sitting.

  Marie sighed and looked at him like he was a child. “Why didn’t you call anyone?” she asked.

  Grant looked down at his hands, now folded in his lap, and shrugged. “I don’t know.”

  She gave me a quick look and then turned her attention back to Grant. I thought about excusing myself and running back to Caroline, but I sensed he needed me there with him.

  “Who told you?” he asked.

  “Things like this make the news, Grant,” Marie started. “But actually a close friend of Bridget’s had posted something on Facebook, and a mutual friend of ours asked me about Quinn, not even realizing that I knew you.”

  Grant rubbed his forehead, then rested his arms on the table. “I’m sorry about that. I mean it. I should have called.”

  She leaned forward and placed a hand on his forearm. “We were worried sick, obviously, but more importantly we want to be there for you for any reason. Okay?”

  He nodded.

  “You have to let your family be there for you. Good or bad,” she said, and then leaned back in her seat. “I hate to ask, but do you have a plan for what’s next?”

  My ears perked up.

  “No, not really. Jess and I are going to meet back up with her family, and I want to make sure she’s taken care of and . . .” His voice trailed off for a second. “And wherever she decides to go is where you’ll find me.”

  Chapter 30

  The next morning I woke up and found Caroline struggling with the state-of-the-art coffeemaker mounted on the wall of the hotel room. Grant was still asleep, so I lightly closed the door behind me. The suite at the Mandarin Oriental Miami had two bedrooms—one for us, and the second for Caroline and Allen, neither of whom had ever stayed in anything nicer than a DoubleTree. The décor was a modern Art Deco style, and the room overlooked the waters of Brickell Key.

  “I was trying to make some coffee and wait out on the veranda for everyone to get up, but this looks like something out of Star Wars,” Caroline said.

  “Then I’m sure Allen will know how to use it,” I joked, and she smiled in agreement. “I think it’s an espresso machine. We can just order a couple pots of coffee.”

  “This is very indulgent. Grant didn’t have to do this for us.”

  “He has connections here with these hotels. He used to work in the travel business for many years and still does at times, so he gets to stay for free or cheap. I think.”

  She looked at me, waiting for more details about him, but I didn’t have many.

  “Shall we sit outside?” she a
sked.

  “Sure,” I said, and ordered some room service before quietly sliding the glass doors open and walking out onto the marble tiles that made up the floor of the patio. “Would you care for the loveseat or the oversized beanbag of awesomeness?” I asked.

  “I’ll take the loveseat,” she said, and I fell into a bright orange beanbag chair the size of a Volkswagen Beetle.

  We sat in silence for a moment, pretending to enjoy the view, before I finally spoke. “What do you want to know?”

  She cleared her throat. “Allen said I shouldn’t push you or be too nosy, but I lose sleep at night thinking about what you went through and what your plans are from here.” She met my eyes. “I think it’s time you come home.”

  “I made it back safely. Isn’t that what matters?”

  “Yes, but I’m just sick about what you all had to endure. I keep imagining the worst, and I just want to make sure you get the help you need from here on out . . . if in fact you need help. I mean, what sort of medical treatment were you given? Did you talk with a psychiatrist? Were any of these men captured, and what’s being done to them?” She paused to read my face. “Am I terrible for wanting to know these things?”

  I shook my head.

  “And, Jessica . . .” She sat on the edge of her seat and leaned in. “I can tell you’re head over heels in love with this man. Does he feel the same about you? What are his intentions? Where was his family today?”

  The coffee could not have arrived fast enough.

  I pressed my palms into my thighs and lowered my eyes for a moment. “I think you know I’m not coming home with you,” I said, and then looked at her.

  She crossed her arms. “Where are you going then? Back to Phuket?”

  “Yes. At first anyway. I mean, I have a life there, and that was my plan all along. To crew for Grant for a month and then fly back to Phuket. I have two jobs that I love and friends. Not to mention everything that I own. I can’t very well abandon the place, nor do I want to.”

  She just stared at me.

  “As far as me being in love with him—yes, I am, and ‘head over heels’ is putting it mildly.” I sank lower into my chair.