Hard Rain (14 page)

“The little man of the house,” her mother commented.

About to suggest to her mother that it could have been otherwise, Amy bit her tongue. Her anger was still too high, her emotions too raw.

“So, he didn’t mention anything to you about his father tonight?” Amy asked.

Peg shook her head.

“Ian always keeps his cards close to his chest, but there have got to be some heavy-duty thoughts going on in that thirteen-year-old head of his right now.”

“How do you think Jesse is going to react?”

“I don’t know. When I discovered it was him in Texas, I ran through a whole range of emotions. Anger, confusion, joy. I imagine Jesse is about to have the same experience.”

“He didn’t tell you that I came to see him?”

Amy shook her head.

“I did what I thought was best for you.”

Amy looked at her mother. Her hands lay twisted together in her lap. The nails were neat and well-shaped with the look of a professional manicure, but the knuckles were still knobby, the skin roughened from years of hard work.

“You can be mad at me if you want,” Peg told her daughter, “but if I had to do it all over again, I would still make the same decision.”

Amy stood. “It was not your decision to make.”

“Shhh, you’ll wake the household.”

Amy felt her control slipping. The past two days were taking their toll. “Don’t ‘shhh’ me. This is my house.”

Her mother stood. “Glenn and I will leave in the morning. We’ll go to a hotel.”

“No.” Amy dropped down onto the ottoman again. “No. That’s not what I want.” She felt her mother’s hand, tentative, on her shoulder.

“What
do
you want, Amy?”

Amy didn’t realize she was crying until she tasted the tears. “I want fourteen years.”

Her mother stayed silent, standing by her daughter’s side, her hand on her shoulder. She could not give Amy what she’d lost. No one could.

“Tomorrow is going to be another long day,” Amy said, rising to her feet. “We should get some rest.” She started toward the hall stairs.

“Amy?” Her mother’s voice stopped her. “Do you still love him?”

She turned and faced her mother. “I never stopped.”

T
HE DAYS
that followed became a waiting game, a blur of bedside vigils, sleepless nights, a diet of coffee and convenience foods. Amy resumed her responsibilities at the hospital, grateful to have her mind occupied elsewhere for many hours. Otherwise she sat and thought of the recent days and wondered about the future. Aunt Betts’ swelling subsided. All medications were stopped. Still there was no response. As a medical professional, Amy knew the decision should have been made before this. But in her heart, she prayed for more time. And a miracle.

There was no change.

The family gathered at the hospital. This time, knowing it would be the last time, Ian chose to come and say good-bye to Aunt Betts. Standing bravely by his mother’s side, he hid his nervousness behind a poker face. Amy was again reminded of his father. Ian knelt beside the bed, and, folding his hands in prayer, he squeezed his eyes tight and silently said good-bye. He opened his eyes, stood, and looked at his mother. His features crumpled.

Amy took him in her arms and rocked him gently as he cried. Gradually, his shoulders stilled and he straightened, swiping the dampness off his face. She laid her hand on his cheek. “You are very lucky to have loved someone so much.”

He turned away and went into the hall, embarrassed by his display of emotion. She followed him into the waiting room and sat beside him, taking his hand.

“You don’t need to hold my hand,” he said.

“No, I need you to hold mine.”

They waited as Amy’s mother said good-bye to her sister. She came out, leaning on Glenn’s arm, looking older than Amy remembered.

“After the blessing, Grandma’s going down to the hospital chapel,” Amy told her son. “It would be good if you went with her.”

Ian nodded. Father Allen from her aunt’s church came to administer the last rites. When he finished, the small group stood by the bedside, hands still joined. There was only one thing left to be done. Amy looked at her mother. “I’ll meet you in the chapel in a few minutes.”

Her mother nodded. Amy fought back tears as Ian offered his grandmother his arm. Glenn took Peg’s other arm and the trio walked toward the elevator. The elevator doors opened, closed. Amy was alone. She turned back to the hospital room.

She did not need to be here. Other hospital personnel could perform the process. But she had asked to be the one, and her request had been approved. Some would think her brave. Amy knew it was selfishness that brought her here to the foot of her aunt’s bed. Only those in the medical profession could understand that what she was about to do would give her the comfort of at least being able to do something.

She pulled out the intravenous line bringing fluids. She shut down the oxygen, gently removed the ventilator tube. She turned down the dials, shut off the machines maintaining organ function. Her movements were brisk, efficient. She was a good doctor.

When she was done, she pulled a chair up to Aunt
Betts’s bedside. She took her aunt’s hands in hers and waited. She did not know how long she sat. She watched. The lines went flat.

She stood, still holding her aunt’s hands. She leaned down and kissed her brow.

“I miss you already,” she whispered.

Pressing the buzzer, she called the nurses. They would finish. She held her body very straight and still as she walked out of the room. One misstep, one stumble, and she would be finished.

She took the stairs down, avoiding the elevator and other people. Her breath was shallow, as if a great weight pressed against her chest. She reached the ground floor and stepped into the hospital lobby, stopping when she saw a tall figure moving through the automatic entrance doors. Surely it was her imagination, the oasis a lone survivor would perceive in the hot desert sun.

Jesse stopped when he saw her. Then his steps quickened. Her shoulders fell as she walked slowly into his arms. His large body curved like a sail around her slight figure, and she pressed herself to him as if she could not get close enough.

“It seems,” he said in a low voice near her ear, “we have this habit of not saying good-bye to each other.”

Amy didn’t think she had any tears left. She was wrong.

He let her cry. She clutched his shirtfront, afraid that if she let go, he’d vanish before her eyes. He stroked her back, her hair, murmured soothing sounds. She leaned into him and cried harder. It was easily a full
ten minutes before she could compose herself enough to look up into his face, once strange, now becoming familiar to her. She remembered she was in the hospital lobby in full display of colleagues and staff, but she didn’t care. She was in Jesse’s arms again. At that moment, that was all that mattered.

“I’m so glad you came. Thank you.”

His knuckle softly brushed away a tear on her cheek. “I would have come sooner, but the hurricane—”

She shook her head, stopping him. “I wanted to stay longer, be there to help out.”

“You were needed here, Amy. You had to go.”

“Everything happened so fast. There was no time to try and reach you, let you know I had to leave.” She looked up into his eyes. “I’m glad you’re here.”

His fingers moved softly against her skin. “I missed you.” He bent his head, gently brushing his lips against hers in a slow, sweet kiss.

Amy’s arms tightened around him involuntarily.
Don’t go,
she thought.
Don’t leave me this time.

“Mom?”

Amy jerked away from Jesse, breaking the embrace. She watched his eyes grow puzzled as her own pleaded. His gaze moved past her. He stepped back with a stagger as if punched squarely on the jaw. Muscles frozen, lips slightly parted, he looked at his son for the first time.

“M
OM
?”

Jesse’s gaze remained fixed on Ian as the boy walked toward them, the image of Jesse nineteen years ago. Confusion clouded Jesse’s eyes as Ian stood beside Amy, taller than his mother. Amy looped her arm around his waist. “Hi, honey.”

The boy stared back at Jesse with equal curiosity. Jesse swallowed dryly. His gaze still on the boy, he said to Amy, “This is your son?”

Our son,
she corrected silently. Jesse’s gaze darted to her. She nodded. His eyes darkened.

“This is Ian,” she said. “Ian, this is Jesse Boone.”

The man and boy faced each other. Neither spoke. Amy felt the tension in her son’s body. The silence stretched out. Jesse’s gaze stayed locked on the boy. Amy was about to tell him the truth when Jesse took a step forward and extended his hand. “Hello, Ian.”

The boy hesitated before he took his father’s hand.

“It’s good to meet you, Ian.” Jesse said the name again, as if trying to get used to it.

The boy looked squarely into the man’s face.

“Thank you for coming, sir.” Amy was never more proud of her son than at that moment.

“I’m glad I came. I only wish…” Jesse swallowed. “I’d come sooner.” He released the boy’s hand and stepped back. His expression changed as his gaze shifted to Amy.

Peg and Glenn joined the group. Peg looked at Jesse, glanced at her daughter curiously.

“Mom, it’s Jesse,” Amy told her.

A confusion similar to Jesse’s only minutes earlier crossed her mother’s features, but as she took in the man, her expression softened. “Hello, Jesse.”

“Mrs. Sherwood.” The same warmth was not offered in his greeting. Amy saw anger flare in his eyes. So did her mother.

“It was good of you to come,” Peg said.

“I’m glad I did.” His voice remained reserved, although Amy had no doubt his answer was sincere.

“This is my friend, Glenn Mulligan.”

The two men shook hands.

Peg put her arm around her grandson almost possessively. “Amy, Glenn and I will take Ian back to the house. We’ll see you both there?” Her gaze flickered to Jesse.

Amy looked at Jesse. His gaze went to their son, then back to her. He nodded.

“Grandma and Glenn will take you home and we’ll be right behind you,” Amy said. “Okay, Ian?”

Ian shrugged. “Sure.”

The trio headed toward the exit. As the automatic doors parted, Ian glanced over his shoulder. Jesse’s gaze
had not left the boy. They looked at each other. Jesse smiled, lifted his hand good-bye. Ian turned without response.

Jesse turned to her, his expression stony, the man she had met that first morning in Turning Point.

“This is not how I wanted you to find out.”

He raised a palm, halting her explanation. “Not here,” he said. “Someplace private.”

She led him outside to a bench at the side of the hospital, several feet from any others. They sat down. Jesse stared ahead unseeingly.

“Jesus,” he said finally.

He fisted his hand and slammed it against the seat, shattering the uneasy silence. “You should have told me.”

“I was going to.”

“When?”

“At first, I was so angry with you, then I had to come to terms with the fact that I had found you after all these years. The storm came, the news of Aunt Betts. I had to go.”

“You had plenty of opportunity.” His voice was hard.

“So did you,” she snapped back. “I don’t want to do this, Jesse.”

For several moments, neither of them spoke. When Jesse finally did, his voice was eerily calm. “Fourteen years ago, I made my decision. Never once did I doubt it was the wrong choice.” He paused. “Until now.”

Amy raised her hand, then hesitated, as her mother had only last night. She knew her touch would not be welcome.

“Did your mother really despise me that much?” Jesse’s voice was tired.

“She didn’t know I was pregnant when she went to see you. No one did for several months. I’d always been irregular. After you left, I wasn’t eating right, losing weight. I tried to blame the missed periods on that. When I finally had to consider the fact it could be something else, I was already in California in my first semester of college. I was so scared, I didn’t even tell my mother until Thanksgiving break.”

“I can imagine her reaction,” Jesse said.

“She was angry at first. Disappointed too, but then she was actually very supportive.” Some of the anger Amy had felt last night after she had learned what her mother had done began to dissolve. “She asked me what I wanted to do, if I had considered all the options.”

“Had you?” Jesse asked quietly.

“Abortion—no, never. Adoption, yes. I thought about it, but I knew I would keep the child, no matter what the cost. It was our child. It was all I had left of you.” She saw the pain etch new lines on his face. She had known they could never get back the fourteen years they’d lost. Now she feared they could never overcome them.

“My mother offered to take care of the baby after the birth until I finished medical school, but this child was my responsibility. Fortunately, Aunt Betts insisted I live with her and let her help with the child. I couldn’t have made it without her.” She paused, fresh grief welling inside her.

“I should have been there.” Jesse rubbed his brow, anguish in his voice.

“Don’t you see? That’s how I felt when you first told me about your accident. All that time, I thought you had abandoned me, but I was the one who had abandoned you.”

“You didn’t know about the accident.”

“You didn’t know about the pregnancy,” she countered. “After my mother learned about the pregnancy, she did try to find you, but you had been transferred from that hospital to another, then another. The paperwork had been misplaced or forwarded so many times, no one was certain where you were.

“Last night she also told me that you had tried to contact me after the accident, that she went to you in the hospital and begged you not to try to contact me again. You didn’t tell me that.” She tried not to make her voice accusatory.

“Your mother did come to me, but I was the one who made the final decision.” He paused. “If I had known…” His voice trailed away.

Amy did not know what else to say, who was right, who was wrong. There were no answers.

“The first time I saw you was Tuesday afternoon, two thirty-five, October eighth, 1991, in the school library.” Jesse spoke softly, breaking the silence. “Coach said he’d gotten me a tutor and I should sit tight and take in every word you said if I wanted to continue the season. You came into that library, all serious, your hips swaying, a stack of books pressed against your chest and an expression on your face that said ‘Prepare to do battle.’ I thought hell’s bells, this one is going to be a handful.”

The tiniest smile graced Amy’s face. “Scared you, did I?”

“I never knew what the hell hit me. That day you wrote your name and phone number on a piece of looseleaf paper, told me not to lose it. The nurses found that piece of paper in my wallet when the hospital was looking for next of kin. One of the nurses asked me if you should be contacted. I nodded yes. The nurse spoke with your mother. She came to see me and I agreed to leave you alone. Still I kept that piece of paper for the longest time. I knew I was being foolish, but I couldn’t seem to throw it away.” He sighed as if wondering, like her, if too many years and too many secrets had destroyed their chances.

“So when did you finally throw it away?” Amy asked.

Jesse reached into his pants pocket and pulled out a worn sheet of paper. He opened it carefully so he wouldn’t rip the creases, thin with years of folding and unfolding. He smoothed his hand across it. Amy saw her name written in her youthful, round, curvy script. Beneath it was her phone number.

“I didn’t. I had a small metal file box at home for all my important papers. I kept it in there. I found the box in the rubble at my place. It survived the storm.”

Amy stared at the sheet of paper with the fat cursive letters. “Just like us.”

Jesse folded the paper, his face unreadable, and slid it back into his pocket.

“What do we do now, Jesse?”

He looked at her, the mask cracking, revealing the pain and uncertainty Amy shared.

“I don’t know.”

Her heart broke. “Are you going to stay?”

He nodded. “Yes. I’d like to spend time with Ian.”

“That would be good. You can stay at the house if you like. There’s room.”

He shook his head. “No, I’ll get a room at a motel. It would be easier.”

“Of course.” She adopted a polite manner. “How long can you stay?”

“I was planning on two days at the most.”

There was never enough time for them.

“I have to get back to Turning Point,” he said. “There’s a lot to be done. But now that I know about Ian…” He rubbed his brow again, looked past her. “Everything’s changed.”

“Yes,” Amy agreed. “Everything has changed. For all of us.”

It seemed as if he wanted to say something more, but he remained silent. After several seconds, he stood. “You probably need to get back.”

“Do you have a car?” she asked, getting up also.

He nodded. “I rented one at the airport.”

“You can follow me to the house, or if you want to get a room first, I can write directions to my place from the motel.”

“I’ll get a room, then come over, if that’s all right?” They were so formal they could have been two strangers.

“That’s fine.” She took out a notepad, wrote down the address, then handed him the sheet of paper. “Here. Don’t lose it.”

He smiled slightly as he folded the paper. Amy couldn’t suppress the hope that sparked in her.

By the time she left the hospital and arrived home, the food and the phone calls of support and condolences had begun to come in. Peg was in the kitchen on the phone. Glenn was at the front door accepting a fruit basket delivery. Amy went to the refrigerator and took out a bottle of water as she listened to her mother thank the person on the other end for calling.

When Peg hung up, she looked at her daughter “Where’s Jesse?”

“He went to get a motel room, then he’ll be over. I gave him directions.”

“How did he take everything?”

Amy shook her head. “I should have told him about Ian right away—when I found out it was really him.”

“He’s pretty angry?” Peg asked.

“Angry, confused. He’s got a right to be. He lost fourteen years.”

“So did you. So did Ian,” her mother noted. “Is that reason enough to lose even more?”

“I can’t answer that. And I can’t answer for Jesse, either. How’s Ian?”

“He was quiet on the way home. He’s upstairs in his bedroom now, playing a video game.”

Amy set the water bottle on the counter. “I think I’ll go talk to him.”

“Amy?” Her mother moved toward the sink, picked up some lettuce leaves and rinsed them under the faucet. “About everything…well, I did what I thought was right.”

“I think that’s what we all did, Mom. Except now everything is all wrong.”

Ian lay on his stomach on his bed, furiously pushing the buttons on the video game controller.

“Hi, handsome,” Amy said as she walked into the room and sat down on the bed beside him.

“Aw-w-w, Mom. You’re not going to get all sappy on me, are you?”

“I might.” She ruffled his hair. He ducked his head, his eyes never leaving the video screen while his fingers fought imaginary enemies.

“It’s been quite a day, hasn’t it, honey?”

“Yeah.” Ian pressed a button. An alien got zapped on the screen.

“What did you think of Jesse?”

Ian shrugged. “He’s big.” He glanced up at his mother. “Do you think I’ll get that tall?”

“From the looks of you already, I’d say yes.”

Ian returned to his game. “He doesn’t look anything like his pictures.”

“I told you he wouldn’t.”

He glanced up at her again. “What did he think of me?”

“He was surprised.”

“I’ll bet.”

“He’s staying for two days. He’d like to spend as much time as possible with you, get to know you. Would that be okay?”

“I guess.”

“It will probably be a little strange at first, but with time, I bet you and he will be just fine with each other.”

Ian paused the video game and looked up at his mother. “Am I supposed to call him Dad or what?”

“You two will figure that out.” Amy stood. “He’s coming over as soon as he gets settled at the motel. He’ll probably stay for dinner.”

“Whatever.” Ian started the video game again. Amy leaned down and kissed the top of his head.

“C’mon, Mom, cut it out.”

“I don’t want you playing that thing all day either.” She gave her customary warning as she left the room and went downstairs.

Peg was cutting up tomatoes at the sink, while Glenn was peeling cucumbers at the table. “Glenn, I can do that,” Amy told him.

“Don’t start spoiling him on me, Amy,” Peg warned.

Glenn smiled. “I’m glad to help out, Amy.”

“He’s a pretty good cook, too,” Peg added, smiling at him. She turned to Amy. “How’s Ian?”

“He told me not to get all sappy on him.”

“Sounds like he’ll be fine.” Peg sounded relieved.

“He’s not saying much at the moment.”

“It’s going to take time for all of you. You look tired, honey. Why don’t you go take a nice, long hot bath and get yourself fixed up for dinner?”

Amy looked at Glenn. “She’s not very subtle, is she?”

“That’s our gal,” Glenn said.

“Go now,” Peg urged her. “Glenn and I will get dinner ready. I’d rather stay busy anyway.”

Her mother turned back to the sink. Aunt Betts and her mother had never been close. Besides the large age difference between them, Amy suspected there had
been some jealousy on her mother’s part over Amy and Ian’s close relationship with Betts. Still, her mother had just lost her only sister.

Amy went to Peg, put her arm around her shoulders and gave her a squeeze. “Thanks, Mom. I’ll do cleanup.”

“It’s a deal. Off with you now.” Her mother’s eyes with their newly corrected vision became glassy.

Amy squeezed her shoulders again and gave her a kiss on the cheek. “I love you, Mom.”

Peg blinked back her tears and smiled at her daughter. “Don’t go getting all sappy on me, Amy.”