Jack felt even guiltier because he didn’t know how to help. Deep down, that was what gnawed away at him. Jack fixed things. He made the world safer. And here was something he had no idea how to fix.
Feeling guilt grip his heart, he put more energy into his strides. He could pound away his pain. He’d done it before.
Jack’s mind drifted and, with the sound of his shoes hitting the trail, he remembered a day long ago when he’d heard a similar sound.
He and his sister, Ava, had been racing each other home from school. Laughing. Goofing off. Suddenly, they’d heard what sounded like a bomb dropping several blocks away.
Within seconds the air was filled with siren screams.
One, two, then three police cars had shot past them. The entourage turned off the main street onto the street where they lived. Though it was daylight, the cars’ bright lights ricocheted off the picture windows of the houses and aluminum garage sidings.
“Come on!” Jack had yelled to his sister, who was as curious and as much a daredevil as he was back then. “Let’s see what’s going on!”
They took off running, their sneakers slapping the sidewalk.
The police cars flashed blue-and-red lights, but their sirens were silent.
They had pulled up to Jack’s house.
Both kids stopped dead in their tracks.
Smashed into the monster oak tree in their front yard was their uncle Marty’s car with their uncle in it, draped over the steering wheel.
The front end of the car was halfway up the tree trunk, the hood pleated and busted open.
“He came around that corner at fifty miles an hour,” the older of two cops was saying as Jack and Ava walked slowly toward the wreck. “It was like he was trying to hit that tree.”
Jack was dazed as he looked from Uncle Marty’s bloodied head to the front porch where his mother stood, dressed in jeans and a pretty peach-colored blouse, her hands covering her mouth. She was stark white.
Their mother spotted them and burst into tears. “Ava! Jack! Come here. Now.”
Ava instantly obeyed, but Jack hung back.
He wanted to see. To investigate. To learn. What had happened to his uncle Marty?
Jack walked up to the policeman. “Is he alive?”
The man was gentle, but firm. “You need to stay back, son. This is nothing for you to see.”
“That’s my uncle Marty.” Jack pointed.
Another policeman had opened the driver’s door and was reaching inside. He put his fingers on Uncle Marty’s neck. The cop shook his head.
Just then the ambulance arrived. Two paramedics raced toward the wreckage while another two took out a stretcher.
A fire truck pulled up, then another fire truck and a fourth police car. The place was like a scene out of a Mel Gibson movie. Though in shock, Jack couldn’t tear his eyes off the drama. He knew his uncle was dead. He wasn’t waiting for a final pronouncement. But there were still questions.
Like...why?
The neighbors had scrambled out of their houses. Mrs. James came over to hug Jack’s mother. The Albertson kids, all four of them preschoolers, watched from the driveway until their mother made them go inside. Other neighbors just ogled. They made Jack feel ashamed, as if he’d done something wrong.
The firemen used a hook and chain to pull the car down off the tree. Then they pried Uncle Marty out from behind the wheel, placed him on a stretcher, covered him with a gray wool blanket and wheeled him away.
Until then, everything had seemed to be happening in slow motion, but now the world went into fast-forward. Suddenly, Jack registered that half the vehicles had left and his mother was still on the porch, clutching Ava to her side and talking to one of the cops.
Jack went to his mother. She simply held out her arm, reeled him in and hugged him close. Jack put his arm around her waist and rested his head against her hip. His head bobbed up and down with her sobs.
He hugged her tighter.
“Did you know he’d been drinking today?” the cop asked, writing down details in a spiral pad like the one Jack used at school to write notes to Sherry Cramer, the pretty girl who sat in front of him.
“He’s an alcoholic,” his mother explained. “He’s been sober for years. Since my kids were born. But Marty lost his job last month. And with no wife or kids of his own, he was despondent. The doctor put him on antidepressants, but I guess he didn’t mention his drinking. I think he was mixing. He and I got into a big fight yesterday about it. I warned him that if he didn’t stop, I wouldn’t let him see the kids.” She burst into a fresh round of tears. “This is all my fault. I should never have pushed him. They told me at Al-Anon to protect my family first. I never dreamed he’d do anything like this.”
“Mrs. Carter, your brother would have done this or something similar even if you hadn’t said a thing,” the policeman said. “I’ve seen it too many times. Don’t blame yourself. This was his decision.”
She swiped her nose on the sleeve of her pretty blouse. “So it was suicide?”
“Yes, ma’am. That’s how we see it. Listen, I know it’s not much, but you need to take comfort in the fact that he didn’t hurt anyone else.”
“But you think this was premeditated?”
“I do. He knew exactly how fast to come around that corner so he would hit that tree. Plus, he wasn’t wearing a seat belt and the air bags had been disengaged.”
“Oh, my God,” she sobbed and pulled Jack in closer.
“We’re going for now, Mrs. Carter. When your husband gets home, would you ask him to call me? Here’s my card. Just in case he has anything else to add to the investigation.”
She nodded. “My husband is on the road. Iowa. He’s supposed to be home tonight. He sells insurance.”
“Tough business.”
“We do okay. For the kids, you know.”
The cop smiled and touched first Jack’s head and then Ava’s. “You kids take care of your mom.”
“Yes, sir,” Jack had said. Ava kept crying and sniffling.
Jack remained on the porch and watched a tow truck haul the mangled car away. The policemen drove off in silence. Except for the deep ruts that Uncle Marty’s car had made in the grass and the scar on the tree trunk, there was no sign of what had happened. Life on the street returned to normal.
Jack had almost forgotten about that day so long ago. He’d only been about eight at the time. It was amazing how well the mind could repress memories that caused pain. Or illumination.
Was his trauma from the accident and Aleah’s death linked to his own past? Did his feelings about his uncle Marty and the senseless waste of his life color his attitude toward Sophie and what she was doing?
Jack was more confused than ever.
Sweat ran from the top of his head down his temples and to the back of his neck, soaking his T-shirt. Obviously, he’d needed this run to rid himself of impurities. Flush out the toxins, including terrible memories and maddening thoughts of Sophie.
* * *
AFTER HIS RUN, Jack cleaned up, grabbed Frenchie and headed to work. As soon as he pulled out of his driveway, though, he realized he was nearly out of gas. He stopped at the gas station on Indian Lake Drive, which skirted the south end of the lake and led into town on the overpass that ended at Main Street. Jack filled up the car while Frenchie watched him through the window, which was open a crack. He made silly faces at her and she cocked her head and barked at him. He couldn’t help laughing. She was too much fun to tease.
Jack decided to go inside the mini-mart and buy a bag of chewy treats for Frenchie before going to the office. He grabbed a bottle of water as well, then went to stand in line. An elderly woman paid for her gasoline and bought a coffee and a pack of cigarettes. In front of him was a young man in a hoodie, which was odd since
it was so hot outside. The guy was thin. Very thin. He had a wrapped sandwich and an energy drink in his hands.
The elderly woman left and the guy was next. He put his purchases and a wad of one-dollar bills on the counter.
“You’re a dollar six short,” the gray-haired cashier told him.
“What?”
“You need more money. One dollar and six cents. That includes the tax.”
“This is all I have.”
“Yeah? Then put something back. It’s not enough,” the clerk barked.
“I, uh—”
Jack stepped forward. “I’ll pay the dollar six for him,” Jack said.
The guy turned around and smiled at Jack. “You didn’t need to do that.”
Jack took in the guy’s cracked teeth and a face that was old before his time. He shoved the money onto the counter.
“No worries,” Jack said. “Enjoy.”
“Thanks, man.” The guy seemed to retreat into his hoodie as he gathered his food and shuffled out the door.
Jack paid for the treats then went outside. And stopped dead in his tracks.
The thin guy in the hoodie had walked over to his car and was tapping on the windshield. “Hi, Frenchie! Do you remember me? Boy, is this a nice car or what? And you have a car seat? You’re doing great, girl. Just what I wanted for you.”
Jack approached his car slowly, taking in every word. Stunned, he asked, “You know my dog?”
The man pointed. “That’s Frenchie. I would know her anywhere. You must be Sophie’s friend.”
Jack’s mouth fell open slightly, but he managed to hold his surprise in check. “You’re...Jeremy. Right?”
“Yeah. Sophie told me she’d found a really nice person to care for Frenchie. I’m glad it was you.” He glanced at the sandwich in his hand. When he raised his head, his pale hazel eyes were misted over. “Thanks.” He raised his hand. “For this. For Frenchie. There aren’t many people like you. And Sophie.”
He turned and started to walk away.
Jack was speechless for a moment. “Hey! Wait.”
Jeremy stopped and turned back. He shook his head. “No. I don’t want to pet her. I don’t want to hold her. It would kill me. Understand? She’s okay now. She has you. I’m good with that.”
Jeremy started jogging, putting distance between himself and Jack.
Jack watched after him, feeling pity. Understanding Sophie in a new way.
CHAPTER TWENTY
JACK HELD FRENCHIE in his lap at one of Indian Lake Deli’s sidewalk tables. She licked his hand. He couldn’t imagine life without her.
The café umbrella blocked the noon sun, though Frenchie’s jeweled collar still glittered in the light, casting beams that apparently fascinated Frenchie enough for her to try to catch them with her paws. She patted the tabletop, tapped Jack’s chest and clutched at his forearm.
“Hey, Jack! Who’s your new friend?” Nate Barzonni called as he approached, arm in arm with Maddie. Nate was wearing his lab coat, suggesting they’d walked over from the hospital.
Jack lifted the dog in his right hand. “Guys, I’m in love. Meet Frenchie.”
Maddie sat down next to Jack and scooped Frenchie into her arms. “She’s precious! I didn’t know you had a dog.”
“That’s a dog?” Nate joked. “I had a cat bigger than that.”
Jack put his hands over Frenchie’s ears. “Don’t listen to him. He’s just jealous he doesn’t have a pretty girl like you.”
Maddie smiled at her husband. “I want one. Where’d you get her?”
“I sorta rescued her.”
“From the Indian Lake Animal Shelter?” she asked, kissing the top of Frenchie’s head. Maddie had such a possessive hold on Frenchie, Jack nearly feared he wouldn’t get his dog back.
“No, uh, Sophie found her for me.”
“Really?” Nate asked. “Now she’s rescuing dogs? The woman is relentlessly—”
“Helpful?” Jack interjected.
“Precisely. She’s always volunteering to save the world.”
Maddie rolled her eyes. “Like you’re not? Donating free time to the clinic up in Michigan?”
“That’s different,” Nate argued.
Jack shook his head. “No, it’s not. Two peas in a pod.” He hadn’t thought about it that way before, but as soon as the words were out he realized he was right. Nate was as dedicated as Sophie. They were two people with their thumbs holding back the dam.
With the possibility of the hospital being acquired or a new one being built, Jack wondered if there would be money for more personnel. Would Emory continue his cost cutting? Or would there be even broader changes? Generous, talented people like Nate and Sophie were assets to the hospital, but would a big corporation see them that way? Would Emory? Their volunteer work was pulling them in several directions, and that could put their jobs at risk.
The future of Indian Lake Hospital was never far from Jack’s mind these days, and he found himself slipping into his own thoughts. Regardless of what Emory planned, there was the chance he’d be forced into early retirement if the merger happened. And if Jack was seen as too closely tied to the former president, he’d never get a meeting with the new hospital board or leadership. He’d be dead in the water before he so much as dove in.
Jack had never had to strategize this much on a deal. The stakes were the highest he’d ever encountered.
Maddie handed Frenchie back to him. “You better take her back, or I’ll walk off with her.” She smiled and linked her arm through Nate’s. “By the way, you live in the condos on the other side of the Lodges, right? We aren’t that far from each other, you know. You should come over for dinner sometime. I have more in my repertoire than cupcakes, I swear.”
“Dinner?” Jack was slightly rattled. Since he’d moved to town, the only dinners he’d been to had been functions with boring speakers, where he hoped to connect with prospective clients. Leathery chicken, frozen vegetables and limp salad were the norm. Dinner was a means to an end, a way to build his business so he could pay salaries and keep the lights on.
Nate smirked at him. “You remember the concept, right, Jack? Food, wine, friends. Maybe listen to some music?”
Maddie rolled her eyes. “Nate’s suddenly into country-western. I have no idea what’s going on.”
“I got tired of Hopi wind flutes,” he joked as Maddie pushed his shoulder.
Jack stroked Frenchie’s head. “Can I bring Frenchie? She’s got separation anxiety.”
“Of course!” Maddie replied brightly, eyeing the dog a tad too possessively. “Though something tells me you’re the one with the separation issues. I’d love for her to visit anytime. I’ll call you and we’ll set something up.”
Maddie and Nate rose together and walked away with their arms still around each other. Jack couldn’t tell where Maddie ended and Nate began, they were so close.
How did they do that?
Staring after them, Jack felt an odd twang in his stomach and realized it was jealousy. Jack had put his personal life on hold for years. But lately, work just wasn’t enough. He wasn’t fulfilled.
He needed to take action, otherwise he’d always be the odd man out. It was one thing to blame his predicament on business, the move to Indian Lake and the lack of time he had for personal issues. It was another to get lazy. Jack had never been lazy.
He looked at Frenchie’s upturned face as an idea took shape. He ruffled her ears and kissed her snout. “Frenchie, I should take you for a stroll. Four blocks ought to do it.”
* * *
ACTING ON A whim had never been Jack’s strong point, and as he approached Mrs. Beabots’s, passing Sarah and Luke Bosworth’s large Italian stucco house with the massive front porch on the way, Jack felt his resolve melt lik
e sugar in the rain.
“Maybe this wasn’t such a good idea,” he said, tucking Frenchie under his right arm.
He’d no more thought about turning around and heading back to his office when Frenchie started barking.
“Hey!”
She squirmed, pawed at his wrist and leaped out of his arms. He caught her midflight before she hit the sidewalk and hurt herself.
“What are you doing? Frenchie!”
Then he heard another dog barking. It was the deep, massive, thunderous bark of a large dog.
“Beau!” Jack heard a child’s voice yell from Mrs. Beabots’s front porch. Apparently, the kid had no authority over the dog because the dog kept barking.
So did Frenchie, though she’d stopped trying to escape Jack’s grasp.
“Beau! Stop that!” another child shouted.
The front door opened. “Annie? Timmy? What’s going on?” Sophie rushed onto the porch and put her arms around a red-haired girl and wide-eyed little boy. She gathered the two children to her waist.
Jack was awestruck. She was dressed in her surgical scrubs and sneakers, her dark hair pulled back in a French braid. But it wasn’t her unassuming beauty that stopped him in his tracks. It was her affectionate gestures, the caring in her eyes and concern in her voice for these two children. He felt his heart opening on the spot.
She scanned the street. “Jack?”
“Hey,” he said, setting Frenchie on the ground and holding the ridiculous rhinestone leash in his hand. Sophie was so stunning, he’d forgotten about the dog.
Frenchie lunged forward and snapped the leash right out of Jack’s grasp. She bolted up the front steps and over to the enormous, movie-star handsome golden retriever, skidding to a stop at Beau’s feet.
Frenchie tipped her nose at Beau, who leaned down and touched his nose to hers.
“Oh, wow!” the girl exclaimed, dropping to her knees. “How adorable!”
“Cool!” her brother agreed. He squatted next to Beau, putting his arm around the dog’s neck.
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