Daniel was about to speak but Justine interrupted him. “Go right ahead, asshole. Call them. While you’re whining about this, I’ll have a chat with them about how you treat women.”
Justine linked her arm through Daniel’s, tugging at him. “Come on. Let’s go.”
Daniel pulled away and approached Byron again. “Don’t you ever, ever lay a hand on her again.”
Justine took his hand and tugged harder. “Let’s go.”
He followed her this time, vaguely aware that Larry and several others were gaping at the scene.
Justine ushered him into the lobby. She lifted his right hand and looked at it. His knuckles were cracked and bleeding and already swollen. “Jesus, Daniel. I had no idea you knew how to throw a punch.”
“Neither did I.” He flexed his fingers, cringing as the pain shot through them. The adrenaline rush was wearing off, and he was beginning to realize what had just happened. “Are you okay?”
Justine laughed. “I’m fine, except that I smell like a wino.”
Daniel narrowed his eyes.
“Byron’s scotch splashed all over me when you sent his drink flying. A very nice move, I might add, that’s probably $150 worth of scotch you made him spill.”
“I’m sorry,” Daniel said.
“Don’t be ridiculous. It was well worth getting wet to see the look on his face when you hit him. I still can’t believe you did that. Thank you.”
Daniel didn’t know what to say. He couldn’t believe he’d done it either.
Justine looked at his hand again. “You should ice that. And I should go. I’m going to tell them to call for my car.”
“You can’t leave all wet. Come up to my room and change. You can call the front desk from there and they’ll ring the room when your car arrives.” He winced as he rubbed his hand.
“Okay, let me just get my bag so I can have some dry clothes.”
Justine went into Daniel’s bathroom to change while Daniel called down to the front desk. They said the car should be there within fifteen minutes. Daniel grabbed the ice bucket off the dresser and paused in front of the bathroom door. “I’m going down the hall to get some ice, I’ll be right back.”
“Okay.” Justine’s voice was muffled.
“You all right?”
“I’m fine. Go get your ice.”
The ice machine was broken so he had to go to another floor. His hand was swollen and starting to bruise. He rested it against the ice as he made his way back to his room.
Justine was on the phone. “Yes, of course. He just walked in.” She held the phone out toward him, a concerned look on her face. “It’s for you, it’s Marienne.”
“Oh God.” He nearly dropped the ice bucket. Just when they were starting to make up, she calls and finds Justine in his hotel room, again.
Fuck.
“It’s okay,” Justine said, making no attempt to cover the phone. “I explained everything to her, but you really need to talk to her.”
Daniel grabbed the phone. “This is not how it looks.” He blurted the words out before he could stop himself.
“I know.” Marienne’s voice was steady, not at all angry. “Justine told me what happened. Are you okay? She said you hurt your hand.”
“I’m fine.” He breathed a sigh of relief. The sound of her voice washed over him. “I just miss you.”
“I miss you too. Daniel, but that’s not why I’m calling. I’ve got to tell you something.”
He stiffened. “Okay.”
“Your father’s had an accident. He fell down a flight of stairs at his hotel. He’s at Mass General. He was in Boston on business. I got the call a few hours ago, and I’ve been trying to reach you. He’s in critical condition.”
“Critical?” he asked. He sank down onto the bed.
“Yes. There’s a lot of swelling on his brain. They need to operate….” She paused. “I can try to find someone to watch the kids so I can head to Boston. Why don’t you see if you can change your return flight to Boston instead of Manchester?”
Daniel couldn’t think. He’d been so busy being mad at his father he hadn’t considered what it would feel like to lose him. Now that was a very real possibility.
“Daniel, are you there?”
“I’m here,” he said. “You’re right. I’ll try to change my flight. You don’t have to go to Boston, I’ll handle it when I get home. He’s not your responsibility.”
“You’re my responsibility. I love you. And no matter how stubborn you are, I know how hard this is going to be for you. I’ll be there. For both of you. Just come home safe.”
“I love you too.” He hung up the phone.
Justine eyed him warily. “You all right?”
He nodded, sweeping his hand through his hair, cringing as he moved it. “Oww.” He’d forgotten all about the bruises.
“Here.” Justine grabbed a small towel from the bathroom and filled it with ice. She sat down on the bed next to Daniel and placed it on his hand. “I’m sorry I picked up the phone. I thought it was the front desk calling about my car. It’s probably for the best though. I apologized to Marienne, for the other time. And I told her how you went after Byron to defend me. That was very heroic, by the way. No one’s ever done anything like that for me.” She readjusted the ice. “That better?”
“Yes, thanks.”
“I also told Marienne I’m not a threat to her. That I couldn’t be if I tried. You love her, not me. And that wasn’t an easy thing to say to your wife, I might add.”
Daniel smiled. “Thank you.”
“It was literally the least I could do. I’m sorry about your dad, by the way. I hope he’s okay.”
“So do I,” Daniel said.
Justine rested her hand on Daniel’s shoulder and they sat in silence until the phone rang, telling them her car had arrived. It was time for both of them to go.
Chapter Fifty
Daniel opened his laptop, trying to think of things to keep him busy as he flew to Boston. He scrolled through his emails and saw the one Roger had sent days earlier. He’d been in such a hurry when he’d read it he could scarcely remember what it said. All he did remember was feeling pissed off and nearly deleting it. He was glad he hadn’t. He clicked it open.
Dear Daniel,
I’m sure a letter from me is the last thing you want to receive, but I don’t know how else to say these things to you. I apologize for all the angst and trauma I have brought into your life these past months. I truly never meant to cause you any stress, I only wanted a chance to meet my son.
There are no words to express how much it has meant to me to be able to see you, and to meet your lovely wife and children. It brings me great joy to know that you have such a full, rich life, and I’m thankful you allowed me the chance to be even a small part of it.
I’ve come to accept that I was too late to salvage a father-son relationship, and for that I will always feel regret. I’m heading back to London at the week’s end, so you’ll no longer need to worry about me popping up at your home.
I wish you all the success and happiness in the world. You deserve nothing less.
All my best,
Roger
Daniel felt tears prickling the backs of his eyes. He rubbed at them with his fingertips, willing them to stay at bay. The letter had sounded so different the first time he’d read it. He’d felt it was just another of Roger’s smooth attempts at insinuating himself into Daniel’s life, into his family. Now he saw it for what it was. The missive of a man who’d tried his best and was giving up, because Daniel hadn’t offered him an alternative.
His chest tightened.
What have I done?
****
The smell of the hospital hit Daniel the moment the automatic doors opened. His stomach lurched. Ever since his mother had taken ill the odor had made him nauseated. He walked down the pastel corridor, following the painted arrows that pointed toward intensive care.
The elevator numbers dinged as each went by. Daniel’s heart raced faster as each floor passed. He anchored his hand in his hair, rubbing the back of his neck but his tension level was only increasing. He shifted the weight of his backpack to his other shoulder.
I don’t know if I can do this.
He considered riding the elevator back to the first floor, hailing a cab and leaving. He could rent a car and be home in three hours. He wanted to see Marienne and the kids and forget about all of this. A part of him couldn’t deal with what was happening.
Roger can’t be dying. I don’t even know him yet.
The word ‘yet’ made Daniel flinch. He could have known him by now, if he’d given him a chance. Roger had been patient with him and yet Daniel had rebuffed him at every turn. He had been cold. Distant. Cruel. Now he might not have a chance to change that. To apologize.
The doors opened, and Daniel stepped out into the hallway. The odor intensified. Machines beeped, and there was a steady pulsating whir from ventilators and monitors. Daniel forced himself to head to the nurses’ station. “I’m looking for Roger Cromwell. I’m his son.” The words sounded foreign as they came out of him mouth. Daniel felt like crying.
The nurse flipped through some charts then directed Daniel down the corridor. He tried not to look into the other rooms as he passed. Sad faces flanked most bedsides; other rooms were empty except for a patient lying silently in a bed. He slowed as he neared the number the nurse had given him. He stepped behind the curtain divider and saw Roger, pale and lifeless. A nurse was alongside him, making notes on a clipboard. “May I help you?”
Daniel nodded. “I’m his son. How is he?”
“I’m afraid there’s been no change.”
Daniel set his bag down on the chair beside the bed. “How bad is that? Should he have awakened by now?”
The nurse gestured to the hallway and Daniel followed her. “We’d hoped he would have woken up shortly after surgery, but it’s difficult to say. He could regain consciousness at any time.”
Daniel heard what she wasn’t saying. “But he may not.”
Her eyes softened. “That’s a possibility. He had an EEG this morning, and his brainwave functioning is normal. There’s a strong possibility that he can hear what’s going on around him. Talk to him. Patients often report that they heard loved ones telling them to wake up and that helped them make their way back.”
“Does that actually work?”
“It can. It’s worth a shot.” She smiled and patted his arm.
Daniel returned to the room and set his bag on the floor. He took a seat, trying to think of what to say. He had barely spoken to Roger when he was conscious; it seemed absurd to try chatting with him now. He opened his mouth but no words came. His fingers raked through his hair. “Why is this so hard?” he asked aloud, glancing to see if Roger showed any sign of a response. He didn’t.
Daniel took a deep breath and blew it out. “I’m here. I’m sorry I’m late, but I’m here. When you’re up to it I’d actually like to talk to you.” He couldn’t help but picture the expression on Roger’s face had he uttered those words when he could hear them. All he’d been asking for months was for a chance to talk.
And I wouldn’t give it to him.
Daniel closed his eyes, the exhaustion from his flight setting in. The pay in advance cell phone he’d picked up at the airport vibrated in his pocket, and he quickly withdrew it. “Hey,” he said, walking back to the hallway, phone pressed tightly to his ear.
“Are you there?” Marienne’s voice was dark with worry.
“Yes, got here a few minutes ago. He’s still unconscious. They told me to talk to him, that he might be able to hear me.”
“I wish I was with you.” Her stress was evident but the sound of her voice still soothed him, wrapping around him like a blanket.
“How are the kids? How are you holding up?”
“We’re fine. I’m just worried about you. I know how much you hate hospitals.”
“I imagine Roger hates them a bit more than me at this point. I’ll be all right.” He paused. “Are we okay?”
“Yes.”
Daniel closed his eyes. Her answer was quick and full of conviction. His throat tightened. “Good.” He bit his lip, trying to keep his emotions in check. Drew began to cry in the background. Daniel longed to pick him up and smell his sweet sleepy head. “I miss you all so much.”
“We miss you too,” Marienne said, murmuring something to Drew. Daniel could picture her, holding him, swaying as she stroked the back of his head. “Oh, I almost forgot to tell you. I reserved you a room at the Onyx hotel. They have special rate for family members with a relative in the hospital. It’s under your name, and you can check in at any time. And I overnighted a package to you, so ask for it when you sign in.”
“A package? Of what?”
“Just some things I thought you should have.”
****
Daniel sat in the bedside chair until his legs were numb. The hours on the clock ticked by, each moving slower than the one before. The nurse made rounds again. “Can I get you anything? The main cafeteria closed an hour ago, but there are vending machines in the waiting area. I could bring you a juice.”
“No, thanks.” Daniel stretched, not realizing quite how stiff he’d gotten.
“Visiting hours are over. You should head home and get some rest.”