Authors: Darlene Scalera
“I found your father in the town where I went to help out during the hurricane. He’s the sheriff there.”
Ian said nothing. He stared at her, stunned.
“Shortly after he’d moved away from Washington, he had a terrible accident. His own father was killed. Your father was almost killed too, trying to rescue him. At first, the doctors didn’t believe he’d ever walk again. The trauma to his face required complete facial reconstruction to the point I didn’t recognize him when I first saw him.”
“Is he okay now?” Ian asked quietly.
“He favors his right side when he gets tired, and he’s scarred from all the operations, but overall, he’s fine. And very lucky to be alive.”
“Does he know about me?”
“No, not yet. I wanted to make sure the time was right to tell him, not during the middle of a disaster. Then I had to leave so suddenly. He knows I have a son but he assumes you’re Malcolm’s child. He did try to contact me once about seven years ago, when he was better, but Malcolm answered the phone and told him he was my husband. He didn’t try to contact me after that.
“But when the worst is over here and things have settled down, I’d like to tell him all about you. I know he’ll want to meet you. And you’ll want to meet him.”
Her son angled his head to study her. “Did you love him, Mom?”
She smiled. “More than anyone else I’d ever loved in my life…until you came along.”
He returned her smile before becoming serious again. “But you said you and he were no longer together when you found out you were pregnant with me.”
“We were still dating when he moved away with his father. He even came back for my eighteenth birthday, promised he’d return to take me to the senior prom, but I never saw him again until two days ago. When he got back from visiting me, he learned his father had gotten a job in New Mexico. He was going to call me as soon as they got settled. Six days after I last saw him, the accident happened. He was afraid if he contacted me, told me the truth, I’d have gone to him, giving up my scholarship and my chance to be a doctor.”
“Would you have?” Ian asked.
She nodded. “So he decided to keep the accident a secret.”
“And all this time, you thought he’d dumped you.”
She nodded.
“And you just learned the truth?”
She nodded again.
“Whoa. I bet you were pissed.”
“Ian, language,” she reprimanded, then smiled. “Royally.”
“Are you still…
angry?
”
“No. I understand why he made the decision, and I’m grateful, but I still think I should have had the
opportunity to make a choice in the situation.” She ruffled his hair once more. “You know me. Control freak.”
“Obviously my father knew it, too.”
My father.
The words spoken by her son echoed in the room. Ian was thoughtful for several moments. “When we talked about him before, you told me his name was Jesse Boone.”
Amy nodded.
“Jesse Boone,” Ian repeated, as if testing out the name. “He’s a sheriff?”
“Real-life Texas sheriff. Hat, gun, badge, the whole enchilada. Only he drove a Bronco instead of riding the real thing. At least, he did before it got flattened by a tree during the storm.”
Ian looked at her questioningly.
“Don’t ask.” She dismissed the dangerous escapade with a wave. Her son had enough to digest at the moment. He didn’t need to know his mother had been caught in the middle of a hurricane.
“Mom?” Something in his voice reminded her he was still so very young.
“Yes, honey?”
He fidgeted in his seat. “Do you think he’ll like me?”
Not caring he would blush, she pulled him into a tight embrace. “Oh, honey, he’s going to love you.” She felt her son hug her back.
After the embrace, Ian’s face was grave again. “So, Aunt Betts is pretty bad?”
“I’m afraid so, honey. The doctors are doing everything they can. We’ll just have to see what happens from there.”
“She said she had a headache that morning. She said she’d go see the chiropractor, and he’d take care of her.”
“Would you like to see her?”
Ian considered. “I think I’d like to remember her how she was.”
“She’d like that.” Amy patted his hands. “Grandma’s coming in as soon as she can get a flight. She’ll be here before the day’s over.”
Ian nodded. The furrows remained in his brow, and again, Amy thought he was much too young for such a heavy load.
“There’s no sense you hanging around here. How’bout I get Rachel to take you home?”
“You’re not coming home yet?”
“I’m going to stay here a little while longer, talk with one of the neurosurgeons about Aunt Betts. Grandma will probably want to come here straight from the airport, then we’ll come home.” She fished in her purse for her wallet and gave several bills to Ian. “If we’re late, order in pizza.”
“Can Jeremy come over?”
“You know the rules. No friends over when there’s no adult supervision.” She stood.
“I’m thirteen, Mom,” Ian coaxed as he got up from the couch.
She put her arms around his shoulders as they headed to the elevator. “I’ll make it up to you.”
“That new XBox game I’ve been waiting for was just released.”
Her son gave her a smile. He’d be fine, Amy
thought. A little warier of life and its whims, but overall okay.
“We’ll see,” she answered. She pushed the elevator’s down button.
“Hey, Mom?”
“Yes, honey?”
“Do you have any pictures of, you know…?”
“Your father?” she supplied, the idea still so new to Ian.
He nodded. She laid her hand on his cheek and turned his face toward the elevator door’s metallic reflection. “His eyes are a much darker blue and he was four years older than you are when I met him, but otherwise, you’re him.”
Her son stared at his image until the doors parted. They stepped into the car. Amy said hello to the two nurses in the car and introduced her son.
When they got off, Amy said, “Of course, your father looks much different now. I didn’t even recognize him at first. But there’s a heart-shaped candy box in the bottom drawer of my dresser underneath a pile of clothes. There’s some pictures of him in there.”
They found Rachel in her office, the baby on her lap.
“Oh, Rachel, he’s grown.” One of the characteristics of Noonan’s Syndrome was short stature. Heath also exhibited the downward slant, low nasal bridge and broad neck of individuals with the disorder. His motor functions were below average, but he grabbed the finger Amy offered him in a tight grip.
“He’s beautiful,” Amy told Rachel and Guy. Ian leaned over and tickled the child’s chin. The baby gurgled with pleasure.
“Ian, my man.” Guy, who had been standing nearby, beaming at his family, clasped his hand on the teenager’s shoulder. “I’d say you’re ready for learning the fine art of diaper-changing. What do you think, Amy?”
Ian’s eyes widened. “Gross. Feeding him that disgusting green stuff is where I draw the line.”
Guy grinned. “You mean the ground liver he used to blow raspberries at you.”
Ian looked at the child. “I don’t blame you, buddy. Somebody tried to feed that to me and I’d do the same thing.”
“What are you telling us?” Rachel bounced the baby on her knee. “You’re not up for any more adventures in baby-sitting?”
Ian shrugged, stroking the baby’s downy hair. The child’s hairline was low, another indication of the disease. “I don’t mind hanging out with the little munch-kin a little more. If it’s okay with you guys?”
“We’d love to have you, Ian.” Rachel stood and handed him the baby. “Here you go.”
Ian wrapped his arms around Heath, protecting his head. The baby rested against his chest. Seeing him cradle an infant in his arms, Amy again was struck by the thought that soon her son would be a man.
She made arrangements with Rachel to call later and pick up Ian. After they left, she went back up to ICU to check on Aunt Betts. As she’d expected, there was no change. She looked again at her aunt, once-vibrant with her shock of red hair and penchant for chandelier earrings and anything purple, and was glad Ian had made the decision not to see her here now, her red hair
gone, her body flat and lifeless in a faded blue hospital gown.
Amy found the operating neurosurgeon and discussed the case. She was happy to hear the swelling had gone down slightly, but the surgeon’s cautious expression did not encourage her. After she finished talking to him, she used the hospital’s computer to search medical databases for similar cases and conditions, hoping to find something, anything that could improve her aunt’s chances. She knew it was highly unlikely, but she had to do something. Her review of similar cases only confirmed the inevitable, but she continued her search, loath to the alternative of sitting in ICU, staring at her aunt, feeling helpless. Soon the words began to blur. Besides catnaps caught here and there, she had not slept for any significant length of time in almost three days. When she found herself nodding off, she pushed herself away from the computer and headed to the cafeteria.
The cashier looked down at her cardboard cup. “Now that smells like coffee.”
Amy smiled as she handed her the dollar bills. “One hundred percent Colombian, Irmela. Fourth one today.”
The cashier leaned back slightly to give Amy a once-over. “Woo-wee. You leave us for two days and you come back a changed woman.” She wriggled her eyebrows. “Something go down in that little Texas town that I should know about?”
Amy was able to muster a smile as she raised the coffee to her lips. She thought of Jesse for the thousandth time that day.
“You have no idea, Irmela.”
S
HE STARTED
toward the door. “I’ll see you later.”
“Where you going, Doc?” the cashier called after her. “Leaving me high and dry without a single detail. Don’t hold out on me now, girl. My shift doesn’t end until six. You come on back later and fill me in.”
Amy smiled until the elevator opened on the ICU floor. She went into her aunt’s room, sat down in the chair next to the bed and sipped her coffee. When she’d finished, she threw the container in the garbage can and leaned back, resting her head along the edge of the chair, the hum of the machines almost soothing. She would close her eyes for only a few minutes.
When she awoke, the room was dim and her mother was shaking her gently.
“Mom.” She became instantly awake. “How’d you get here? I thought you were going to call me so I could pick you up at the airport?”
“I didn’t want to bother you, hon.” Her mother’s voice was hushed. “We rented a car at the airport.” She gazed at her sister, her expression stricken. She turned to her daughter and opened her arms. “I need a big squeeze, sweetie.”
Amy fell into her arms. Although she and her mother had had their differences while Amy was growing up, time and maturity had erased past conflicts and brought them closer.
Over her mother’s shoulder, Amy saw an older, distinguished-looking man waiting in the hall.
“We?” she whispered in her mother’s ear.
Her mother tipped her head back to see her daughter. “Glenn.”
“Is that him in the hall?”
Her mother nodded, her cheeks the pink of a schoolgirl’s. “Isn’t he yummy?”
“Mom?” Amy leaned back and assessed her mother. “You’re not wearing glasses.”
“I got that new laser vision correction. It was like a miracle. A few minutes and I was seeing twenty-twenty.”
“Yes, that’s an amazing procedure. Your hair’s different too. Lighter.”
“Platinum sunsplash with foils. Took twenty years off me.” She looked over her shoulder. With a coy smile, she waggled her fingers in a wave at the man. She turned back to her daughter. “He took twenty years off me.”
“Mom!”
Her mother patted Amy’s cheek. “We only live once, darling.” She turned to the still figure on the bed, her arm still around her daughter’s waist. “That’s what Betts would say, wouldn’t she?”
Amy had the sudden urge to rest her head on her mother’s shoulder, but even as a child, she’d prided herself on being strong, invulnerable.
“Poor Betts,” her mom said, staring at her sister. “It’s funny. She was the older sister but I always thought of her as the younger of the two of us. She had such a zest for life.” Her mother’s arm tightened around Amy’s waist. “She never had children. She told me once she would have regretted that decision if she hadn’t had you and Ian come into her life. You were like a daughter to her.”
“Ian and I wouldn’t be where we are today if it wasn’t for Aunt Betts.”
Her mother faced her. “How bad is it, Doctor?”
Amy repeated all she had learned. “As soon as the swelling subsides, they’ll stop the medication. Then we’ll see if she wakes up.”
Her mother didn’t have to ask what happened next if she didn’t. The machines keeping the woman in the bed alive hummed in the silence.
“What do you think?” her mother asked, her gaze fastened on her sister.
“I think we’ll have to wait and see.”
Her mother nodded. “Why don’t you go on out and introduce yourself to Glenn. He knows all about you, of course. I never stop bragging. I’m just going to sit here a moment with Betts, catch her up on everything.” She smiled bravely, although Amy saw the sheen of tears in her eyes.
“Sure, Mom.” Amy glanced over her shoulder once more as she left the room to see her mother kneeling down by the bed as Amy had done only hours earlier, her hands folded in prayer.
“Hello.” Amy extended her hand to the handsome gentleman in the hall. “I’m Peg’s daughter, Amy.”
“No introduction needed, miss.” The man took her hand in a warm grip. “Glenn Mulligan. I’m sorry our meeting isn’t under more pleasant circumstances. How is your aunt’s condition?”
“Unchanged, I’m afraid. We’re waiting to see if there’s any response once the swelling subsides and the medication is discontinued, but…” Amy faltered.
Glenn patted her hand. “And in the meantime, we’ll pray.”
“Yes,” Amy agreed, already liking this man with his kind eyes. “How did you and my mother meet?”
“She rear-ended me.”
“Excuse me?” Amy asked.
“He loves to tell this story.” Peg, her makeup streaked with tears, leaned against the doorway, a weak smile on her face.
Glenn sent her an encouraging wink. “Your mother drives like a madwoman, you know, Amy.”
“Me?” Peg protested. “You’re the one with the mid-life-crisis convertible.” She moved next to Glenn. He put his arm around her and she leaned against him for support.
“It’s red, too,” Glenn added, giving Amy a wink now. “I wanted to buy your mother a matching one but she’d have none of it.”
“And have everyone thinking I’m your trophy girlfriend,” Peg said indignantly. “I don’t think so.”
Amy chuckled.
“You should hear the talk already at the Hair Gallery.” Peg rolled her eyes.
“I can imagine,” Amy sympathized.
A young nurse came by and nodded to the trio. “Excuse me. I’m just going to look in for a minute.”
The group parted, fell silent as they watched the nurse check vitals, monitors.
“Excuse me.” Amy left to confer with the nurse. She returned and tried to look optimistic as she faced her mother. “Well.” She put her hands together. “You two are probably anxious to get unpacked and get settled. Are you hungry?”
“Don’t worry none about us, Amy. You, my darling daughter, look like death warmed over. When was the last time you had a good night’s sleep?”
Amy’s hesitation was answer enough for her mother. “That’s what I thought,” Peg said with a knowing look at Glenn. “My girl, always trying to save the world.”
When Amy started to protest, her mother raised a halting hand.
“No ifs, ands or buts. You need a home-cooked meal and a few hours sleep. Then we’ll both come back and see how everything is. Deal?”
History had taught Amy it was useless to argue when her mother had made up her mind, so she relented with a nod.
“And Glenn can get to know my gorgeous grandson, Ian. Where is he by the way?”
“He was here earlier. He’s staying at the house of two of my colleagues. I believe he’s fallen in love.”
Peg crossed her arms. “And how old is this little heartbreaker trying to get her claws into my grandson?”
Amy smiled. “Not even a year old. And it’s a he, not a she.”
“A baby?” Peg relaxed.
“You should see Ian with him.”
“I’m ready. Let’s go.”
Amy stopped by the nurses’ station to confirm they had all her contact numbers. She called Rachel from the car to let her know she was on her way to pick up Ian. She’d given her mother the house keys and told her to go on ahead. Amy would meet her and Glenn there after she picked up Ian.
As she drove Ian home, Amy could feel the mental and physical exhaustion of the last two days pulling her under. She fought back, drawing on the last remnants of her inner resources, but after a simple meal of grilled steaks, salad and baked potatoes, she succumbed to her mother’s orders and lay down. It was dark when she woke. She glanced at the clock on the nightstand and saw it was two o’clock in the morning. She heard the low murmur of the television downstairs and went down to investigate. She found her mother, sipping from a coffee cup, watching an old black-and-white movie. Amy settled on the wide ottoman at the end of her mother’s chair. “You should have wakened me.”
“You needed your sleep. I checked in with the hospital. Nothing has changed. We’ll go over first thing in the morning.”
“What about you?” Amy asked. “Can’t sleep?”
Her mother shrugged. “My body is beat but my mind is whirling.”
“It’s been a long day.”
They silently watched the flickering images on the screen for a few minutes.
“See that actor. Dean Martin. That’s who Glenn looks like, don’t you think?”
Amy saw the resemblance. “Glenn is a handsome man.” She turned back to her mother.
Her mother nodded. “I rear-ended his car because I was paying too much attention to looking at him. But don’t you dare tell him that.”
Amy drew an
X
over her heart. “You really like him.”
Her mother rolled her eyes. “Falling in love at my age. Who’d have thought it? After all these years alone.”
“I think it’s great. And Glenn seems like a wonderful man.”
With a contented smile, her mother raised her mug and took a sip. “How about you? It’s been four years since your divorce from Malcolm. Anyone interesting in your life?”
Amy suppressed a strong urge to chew on a fingernail, knowing that would give her away immediately. She tucked her hands under her behind.
“Is there someone?” Her mother eyed her.
“You know I went to Texas, to a small town named Turning Point, to help out during the hurricane. I was there when I got the word about Aunt Betts.”
“You met someone in Texas?” Peg leaned forward.
“Actually, I ran into someone I’d known before.”
Peg frowned. “Who?”
Amy took a deep breath. “Jesse Boone.”
Peg jerked back as if someone had slapped her. “Jesse Boone,” she repeated softly. “After all these
years. What the hell were the chances? What’s he doing in Texas?”
“He’s the sheriff.”
Her mother’s eyes widened. “Jesse Boone. A sheriff? Now that doesn’t surprise me. Beneath that boy’s wild ways, there always was a good heart.”
“I thought you never liked Jesse.”
“I didn’t like him for you. There’s a difference. Is he married?”
“No. Most eligible bachelor in three counties to hear the locals talk.”
“So…” her mother started cautiously, “what happened when you saw each other? It’s been how many years?”
“Fourteen.”
“Fourteen years.” Peg shook her head. “Does he look the same?” She studied her daughter, waiting for her response.
“Actually I didn’t even know it was him at first. He had a horrible accident. Remember when he came up for my eighteenth birthday?”
“It was the last time you saw him.”
“The accident happened shortly after. He was on the job with his father when a gas tank exploded. His father was killed instantly. Jesse was almost killed trying to save him. The trauma to his face required extensive reconstructive surgery. You wouldn’t recognize him.”
Her mother sat quietly for a few minutes. “Is he all right now?”
“All in all, his recovery is remarkable. At first, the
doctors didn’t think he’d ever walk again. He’ll never be the star quarterback he was in high school, but other than the scarring and a tendency to favor his right side when he gets tired, he’s okay.” Amy leaned in. “That’s why he never contacted me after I saw him that last time. He said he was afraid I’d give up my scholarship, my schooling.”
“You would have, you know.”
“Probably. But I can’t help but think that if he had really loved me, he would have trusted our love to find a way.”
“Maybe it did,” her mother said gently.
Amy considered. “Maybe. I just don’t think he should have made the decision for me.”
“You were eighteen, Amy. How could you have known what you wanted? You would have screwed up your life forever. Scraping by paycheck to paycheck in some dead-end job, taking care of a cripple.”
Her mother had averted her gaze from Amy and was picking at a loose thread on the arm of the chair. Finally their eyes met.
“You knew,” Amy said, an edge in her voice. “All this time, you knew what happened to him. You knew about the accident, his father’s death. All these years, you let me think he’d abandoned me.” Fury choked her voice.
Her mother sat very still, her hands folded in her lap, her face expressionless as she submitted to her daughter’s accusations. She waited, allowing Amy to continue as if she owed her daughter that much. Amy was seething, but she had enough presence of mind not to
speak further and say something in the heat of anger that she would regret later. After several silent seconds, her mother spoke.
“The hospital contacted me. He’d given them your name and number. I knew you would give up everything and go to him. I went to see him instead. I asked him to let you go, to give you the opportunity to go to school, become a doctor, make something of yourself. You had worked so hard for your scholarship.”
Amy sat stone-faced.
“He agreed. I didn’t know about the baby then. No one did until months later. By then, Jesse had been transferred to another hospital. Even if I could have found him, how were you going to go to med school with a baby and a crippled husband?”
Amy stood. “He had a right to know about his son. Just as I had a right to know about the accident. Damn it, Mom. Even I don’t try to play God.”
“I wasn’t trying to play God. But I was your mother, and I did what I thought was best for you. So you told him about Ian?”
Amy exhaled a long breath. She sank back down onto the ottoman. “No. At first, I didn’t know it was him, and then when I did find out, I was so angry. Then the hurricane struck and I got the radio call about Aunt Betts. I didn’t even get a chance to say good-bye.” She looked wearily at her mother. “You know, seven years ago he tried to call me.”
“What happened?”
“Malcolm answered the phone.”
Her mother’s hand lifted slightly, then curled into a
ball as if she knew her daughter would not welcome her touch. Amy looked at her mother’s fisted hand. Her hands had been taught to comfort, but they did not reach out now. Her mother’s fear was justified.
“What are you going to do now?” Peg asked.
“I already told Ian about his father. All’s left now is for me to tell Jesse about his son. It’s not the kind of news I want to break over the phone though. As soon as I can, I’m going to fly to Texas.”
“How’d Ian take the news?”
Amy smiled. “Pretty well considering. He’s curious of course. I’m sure he’s experiencing a lot of other emotions, but you know Ian. He’s always been mature for his age.”