by Ann Mcintosh
The need to find out exactly what had happened all those years ago was overwhelming, stifling his ability to sort out any of his emotions about having discovered his son. The only way to deal with it was to contact the one person who could tell him how the whole situation had unfolded.
Chandi.
With his father’s present mental state, there was no way to ask him anything, but Rohan was almost completely sure his cousin could fill in at least some of the gaps.
Pulling out his phone, he scrolled through his contacts and pressed the call button once her name came on the screen. Although she had retired to Florida with her much older husband, she should be up. And even if she wasn’t, he didn’t care.
She answered on the second ring.
“Rohan!” she almost shrieked in his ear. “Merry Christmas! What’s happening, cuz?”
“I have to ask you something,” he replied without preamble. He was in no mood for catching up. “Do you remember a woman named Elise van Hagan?”
She hesitated, and in that small moment of silence, he knew she did. Chandi never thought too much before she spoke, and if she had nothing to hide, she would have answered quickly.
“Why you asking?”
“Do you, or don’t you remember her, Chandi? It’s a simple yes-or-no question.”
He’d gotten to the snowmobile, and eased down to sit on it, sidesaddle.
“I think I might,” his cousin finally answered. “There was a chick on my dorm, and I think that was her name.”
“On your dorm?” he questioned. “You knew her from school?”
“Well, I wouldn’t say I really knew her that well.” Rohan could hear the evasiveness in her tone, and the background sounds of TV and conversation suddenly cut out, as though she’d gone into another room. “She was a couple years ahead of me, and in the medical program or something. A real swot if I remember right. Man, that was years and years ago. Why you asking me about her after all this time?”
“I just met up with her today, Chandi. She thought I’d been dead for twenty-seven years. How the hell did she hear that?”
He heard her curse, even though she tried to cut it off before it fully emerged, and Rohan clenched his phone so tightly his hand began to throb. Yet, when he spoke, his voice was as cold as the winter morning.
“Tell me what you know, Chandi. Everything.”
“Rohan—”
She paused, as though trying to figure out what to say, and Rohan cut in before she could come up with something ridiculous.
“You introduced us, and told her I was dead, right?”
“No, no! Your father told her you were dead. I just...”
“You just what?”
He heard her take a deep breath and blow it out. “I confirmed it when she asked me.”
Rage swamped him, and in that moment, he was glad his cousin was thousands of miles away, because he didn’t feel he could be responsible for his actions.
“Tell me exactly how it all went down. Don’t leave out one damn thing.”
Chandi sighed, and all the vivacious spark was drained out of her voice as she said, “A bunch of us were going out one night, and we asked Elise if she wanted to come. She had told us she’d just passed with honors, and we got her to come celebrate.” She huffed. “I mean, who gets through medical school and doesn’t go party afterward?”
“Just get to the story.” Rohan wasn’t inclined to put up with her commentary and didn’t mind her knowing that was how he felt.
“Well, to cut to the good part, you and she went home together that night. And next thing I know, you’ve taken off with her to parts unknown, and your father is raving about how you’re ruining your life, letting some Canadian hussy lead you astray.”
“So, Dada did know about us...”
“Yes, you never hid it. And he was mad, sah. He wanted you to go home and get a government job, or set up practice to make a ton of money, and here you were, gallivanting around all ’bout with Elise.”
Rohan could picture his father ranting, hands swinging through the air, as though looking for something to hit. It was a scene he’d been witness to too many times in his life not to be able to conjure in his imagination.
“Then what?”
“Then you went home at the beginning of December and got into the crash, and your father told Elise you were dead when she called, asking for you.”
Just from the way she said it, he knew there was more.
“Don’t mess with me, Chandi. I know that’s not the whole story, and I’m mad enough to get on the next plane to Miami and get the rest out of you in person.”
“Rohan, after all this time—”
He got up, the same rage that had made him sit propelling him to stand, to pace.
“After all this damn time, I deserve the truth.” He didn’t care whether he was being rude or pushy. “This is my life we’re talking about, not some abstract scene from a movie or a book. My life.”
“Okay, okay.” She tried to sound as though she was just placating him, but there was a note of fear in her tone, too. “I wasn’t there, but I heard you went home and told your father you were going to marry Elise and stay in Canada. He lost his temper, and there was a screaming match between the two of you. That’s when Sanjay came by and took you out of there. He wanted to let you cool off.”
“And that driver crashed into us.”
He’d never known where they were going, he and Sanjay. No one had said, and he’d come to assume that since he had just gotten back to Trinidad, his cousin had come by to see him and take him out.
“Yeah.”
No doubt she’d be happy to leave it there, but Rohan wasn’t letting her off the hook.
“And?”
“When you were first in the hospital, your father told everyone in the house that if Elise called, they were to say you weren’t there, or weren’t available. I think he was hoping she’d think you dumped her and stop calling. Then, when you woke up, your father realized you’d lost those months of memories and you’d need extensive rehabilitation, and he knew you wouldn’t be able to go back to Canada, so he told her you were dead.”
What would his father have done, had the memories returned? The doctors had held out hope that eventually they would, although they never had.
Then Rohan remembered how his father kept pressuring him to marry Suvarna, mostly because of her family’s wide connections and wealth. For a man of his father’s generation, divorce wasn’t a viable option. No doubt he’d thought once his son married someone else, even if he regained his memories it would be too late to do anything about them.
When he’d awoken from his coma, Suvarna had been at his bedside, and had stayed there almost as much as if not more than Rohan’s own mother had. It hadn’t been long before he was so used to her support that he thought they’d be a good match.
As it turned out, they weren’t. She’d been waiting for the “old Rohan” to come back. Their life together had been rocky, with her increasingly frantic emotions met by his stony, unyielding calm.
No one deserved to live with a man like him, and he’d eventually insisted they divorce, knowing she’d be better off without him.
“So that’s it,” Chandi said, trying to sound like her old self. “That’s the story.”
“Not quite. You haven’t explained why you told Elise the same lie.”
“Because your father told me to.” Her voice was strident, defensive. “And he promised to pay for the rest of my schooling if I did. Your family was rich, and mine was talking about me coming back to Trinidad to finish there, because it would be cheaper. I didn’t want to go back, and get stuck marrying some boy from Sangre Grande, and give up my dreams. You didn’t remember her, so what was the big deal?”
What was the big deal...?
Rohan couldn’t even ans
wer her, with all that was swirling in his head.
The big deal was not having someone who cared about him, at his side, while he tried to recover.
Not knowing he was a father, until his son was twenty-six years old.
Maybe even missing what it felt like to be loved and supported as he fought for his life.
Something about Elise told him she would have flown to Trinidad to be with him, when he needed her.
But he didn’t bother to say any of that to Chandi, because he knew she wouldn’t really care. All she would do would be to try, once more, to justify her behavior.
“Well, at least she wasn’t pregnant, like I’d heard.” Chandi sounded cheerful, as if imparting great news, and Rohan froze.
“What?”
“I said, ‘At least she wasn’t pregnant, like I’d heard.’ There was a rumor going around at school that she was, after she’d left, but no one knew for sure.”
“Did you tell my father?” Referring to the old man as “Dada” was beyond Rohan’s capability just then. He might never be able to again.
“Sure,” Chandi said. “He told me to mind my own business and never mention it again.”
He hung up without saying goodbye, the gesture feeling like putting a period on a part of his life that had haunted him in so many ways.
It was then he realized Baxter was by his side, leaning on his leg. When he looked down, the dog was staring at him with such concern that he had no choice but to stoop and hug the animal.
“I’m okay, Bax,” he muttered into the warm, slightly pungent ruff. “I’m okay. Or hopefully, I will be.”
Rising, calmer and resolute, he took another breath of the fresh mountain air, then turned back toward the clinic.
He had a son, absent at the moment, but soon to return. An adult, with whom Rohan would have to connect, create a bond, despite the lies and secrets that had kept them apart all these years.
Just knowing Jeevan existed gave Rohan the kind of joy he hadn’t experienced in years, even as the questions of how to proceed awoke his deepest fears.
After his accident everyone said how much he’d changed, but they couldn’t understand just how difficult it had been, battling with the effects of his head injury. During that time, he’d found it easier to distance himself from everyone, so as not to be overwhelmed, and the solitary man he was had grown from that seed of self-preservation.
Somehow, he’d have to break through the shell he’d built around his emotions, if there was to be any hope of a good, solid relationship with his son.
As he walked back toward the clinic, Bax close by his side, he thought perhaps, if he were lucky, the capable and calm Elise van Hagan would be the key. There was something about her that spoke to a part of him he’d thought was gone, but which now seemed merely to have been locked away.
Not that he was at all looking to rekindle their long-ago romance.
Even if she had any such hopes, which he had no reason to believe she did, he’d long accepted relationships weren’t for him. All his focus would be on building a bond with his son, and to do that, he’d need to know as much about Jeevan as he could before they met.
That was all he needed from Elise, he assured himself, as he pulled open the door.
But the beaming smile she turned on him, which lit up her face and turned it from attractive to breathtakingly gorgeous, stopped him in his tracks and made his heart race all over again.
Not with anxiety this time, but with desire.
“He’s coming home,” she said, the gleam in her eyes capturing his gaze and holding it effortlessly. “Jeevan’s coming home for Christmas after all!”
CHAPTER SIX
TWO HOURS LATER, Elise waited in her kitchen for Rohan to arrive from Trail’s End. The road had been ploughed, and he’d said he’d come by as soon as he felt comfortable leaving the husky he’d operated on in the care of Janice’s employees.
Her head was full of plans and lists of what needed to be done now she knew Jeevan was coming home. She’d got another message from his friend, that Jeevan was running to catch a flight and had some tight connections, so there was no way to know exactly when he would arrive. She’d discussed it with Rohan, and they’d agreed not to say anything to their son until they could do it in person. It seemed logical, and less stress-inducing than having him flying back perhaps worried about what he’d find when he got home.
Elise was determined to have everything ready for Christmas before he got back to Canada, but instead of focusing on that, she found herself thinking about Rohan.
There had been no way to predict how he would respond to Jeevan’s existence. Nor was she confident about how things would pan out, especially when she’d seen Rohan have what she thought was an anxiety attack while talking about the situation.
But when he came into the clinic from outside, and she’d told him their son was coming home in a few days, he’d smiled fully, joyously, for the first time that day, and he’d seemed as excited as she was. “Will you still be here, when he arrives?” she’d asked. “You could stay and celebrate Christmas with us.”
He hadn’t hesitated.
“I’d like that. A lot.”
“I don’t know exactly when he’s going to arrive. The message I got was from his friend—the one he was supposed to go to Australia with. Apparently, Moe’s mother has taken ill, and he didn’t think it made sense for Jeevan to go back there with him, when he didn’t know what was going to happen. Jeevan was trying to get a last-minute ticket, which could mean they route him through half of Asia before he gets to Vancouver.”
Rohan had sat in one of the chairs, still smiling. “Doesn’t matter to me how long he takes to get here, I’m just happy I’m able to meet him sooner than expected. I’ll have to book a hotel room, though. I’d told Janice I’d leave today, and she has a sled team arriving tomorrow. Between that and Ben being in hospital, I don’t want to be an additional problem.”
“You might have a problem finding a room at this time of year. Banff’s really popular at Christmas. I have a spare room, though. Why don’t you come and stay at my place?”
He’d hesitated, then said, “I wouldn’t want to impose.”
“No imposition,” she’d replied, keeping her voice brisk and matter-of-fact.
He’d slanted her a glance, and then, when she thought he wasn’t going to reply, he’d said, “I’d like that. Thank you.”
“Of course,” she’d joked, ridiculously lighthearted at his agreement. “You’ll have to put up with Titan, the African gray, and his squawking.”
“I’m used to it,” he’d said casually, rubbing the side of his face. “I have a macaw, and she’s a chatterer, too.”
“I guess the apple didn’t fall far from the tree, then.”
The grin he’d sent her had her heart racing.
There. There was Rohan.
The devil-may-care smile that showed he had the world by the tail and wasn’t afraid to tweak that appendage whenever he wanted.
“I guess not.”
She’d grinned in return, and the unwanted trickle of awareness she felt when his smile widened had made her look away.
“I pulled up some pictures on my phone,” she’d told him, unlocking the screen as she spoke. “But, of course, at home I have many more of him when he was young.”
She’d handed him the phone and seen the way his eyes tracked across the screen, as though trying to see every small detail of each picture he looked at.
“He looks like me,” he’d said softly.
“A lot,” she’d confirmed, her heart melting at the yearning set of his face. “It’ll be wonderfully strange to see the two of you together.”
“What is he like?”
Warm fondness had flooded her as she sought the right way to describe their son. It was so hard to be objective, but she f
elt she owed Rohan all the honesty she could muster. At least on this topic.
“He was a scoundrel and hell-raiser as a child. I never knew what he was going to get up to next. But at the same time, he could be just this quiet, sweet little boy. For a while I wasn’t sure how he’d turn out, and I worried about that all the time. One minute he was skateboarding with his friends, and I was hearing stories about the mischief they were getting up to, the next I’d find him crying over a dead bird he’d found in the garden.”
She’d paused, and Rohan’s gaze had lifted to hers, stealing her breath for an instant. Forcing a deep inhale, she’d cleared her throat before continuing.
“But as he grew, I realized it would be okay. He’s good people, and I like him as much as love him, and I know not every parent gets to say that about their children, so I’m happy.”
Rohan had nodded without comment, just looking back down at the phone, and she’d been acutely aware of all she hadn’t said.
He not only looks a lot like you, but in so many little ways he reminds me of you. The way he walks, his wide grin. How he so easily connects to other people, even with just a smile or a few well-chosen words.
For all his life, Elise had watched Jeevan grow more and more like his father, or how his father had been when she first knew him, and she’d been fiercely glad. Rohan had been the kind of man she wanted her son to become: kind, considerate, easygoing, but still strong and always ready to stand up for what was right.
It was left to be seen how much of that man still existed under the stern, contained exterior Rohan now wore so easily.
Then he’d surprised her again, by asking, “Since you have such a short time to get ready for Christmas, and I’ll be at your place anyway, can I help with anything?”
There’d been no hesitancy in his voice, but he’d lifted his hand briefly to his cheek again, making her think he wasn’t as calm as he seemed. That one gesture made her not want to refuse.
Besides, against her best intentions, she was looking forward to spending more time with him—getting to know the new Rohan better.