She spent a miserable evening in her empty, finished house. Everywhere she looked, she was reminded of Jake. She tried to read, but her thoughts were too full of Jake, of pink flamingos, motorcycles, and wildflowers…
When Mia called Saturday morning, she let the answering machine take it. Saturday afternoon, she was so stir-crazy that she drove across town to Grandma and Grandpa's. Grandma almost fell over in a cold faint when she answered the door and saw Robin standing there. Little wonder— Robin never came to see them, content to let them come to her. “What a wonderful surprise!” Grandma exclaimed after her initial shock, opening her arms and smothering Robin in a tight embrace.
She finally let go, bustled on to find Grandpa, who, as it turned out, was in the backyard with his garden. He came shuffling inside in bright new, mighty-white Easy Spirits, holding a couple of tomatoes for her inspection. "Robbie-
girl, what a surprise! Say, what do you think ol' Jake will say to these?' he asked, obviously pleased with the size of his tomatoes. “He thinks an awful lot of Raymond's tomatoes, you know. So does Raymond, for that matter.”
“Jake will be very impressed and Raymond will be jealous,” she proclaimed honestly.
“Oh, you think so? Then wait 'til they see this squash I got out back,” he said, hurrying off to find one to show her.
Robin wandered into the kitchen where Grandma was already busily mixing flour and butter. “I'm making chocolate chip cookies,” she announced before Robin could ask. “Remember when you girls were little how I'd make these when you were sick? Then when you got older, I'd make 'em when you were feeling down? You're feeling a little down now, aren't you, honey?”
Reluctantly, Robin nodded and glanced down so Grandma wouldn't see the tears welling in her eyes.
But the old gal was far too perceptive for that ruse. “Hand me that bag of chocolate chips,” she instructed, and as she began to mix the cookie dough, she said, “Your grandpa, I'll swear. He's eat up with this tomato business, just has to grow one bigger than Raymond so Jake will be impressed. He's really taken with that young man.”
“Yeah, I know,” Robin sniffed.
“That's because your grandpa knows a good man when he sees one, and that Jake, he's a good man. What he doesn't have in wealth, he makes up for in integrity. Hard to find a man like that these days.”
Boy, that was the understatement of the year. Robin sniffed again, dipped her finger into the cookie dough, swiped a huge dab.
“And if you do find a man like that, you better hang on to him, 'cuz you won't find better,” Grandma added as she began to mold the cookies.
Robin knew that, too. She just hoped it wasn't too late.
Grandma bent to put the cookies in the oven then turned and smiled brightly at Robin. “I've learned in my seventy some-odd years that you won't ever know true happiness without a little hurt, but if it's meant to be, it will be.”
“hill” Grandpa shouted from outside. “Lil, come out here and see this squash! I'll be jiggered, that is the biggest damn crookneck squash you've ever seen in your life!”
Grandma laughed warmly, patted Robin's hand again. “It'll be okay, sweetcakes. That man loves you as much as you love him,” she said and walked outside to see Grandpa's squash before Robin could argue.
She stayed until Sunday afternoon. T hank fully, neither of her grandparents remarked how odd that was, or pushed her for why. Grandma just fed her cookies and chicken spaghetti and more cookies, and by the time Robin waddled out to her car Sunday afternoon, she was feeling more hopeful about Jake and life in general.
But in the evening hours, when she still couldn't reach Jake on any phone, she began to panic, and looked up Norma Manning in the phone book.
Her fingers trembling a little, she punched the numbers into the phone. It rang several times—Robin was about to hang up but a woman answered breathlessly, “Hello?”
“Uh… I, ah, I was trying to reach Norma Manning, please?”
“She ain't here. She's at the hospital. Who's calling?”
Robin's heart seized. Hospital. Oh God, oh God, if anything had happened to Jake—
“Hello?”
“Uh… Robin Lear—”
“Robin! It's Vickie!”
Robin jumped to her feet. “Vickie! What happened? An accident? Who—”
“Yeah, he had a pretty bad accident, but he's holding on,” Vickie said, and Robin couldn't breathe, couldn't move, could only stand, rooted to the floor, staring straight ahead at the freshly painted walls around her. “I came by to get some of her clothes. Norma's been there all day and night, and she's just about worn out,” Vickie was saying.
Breathe. Breathe, breathe. She tried, but caught a sob in her throat.
"She ain't leaving his side, I'll tell you that right now. Can't say as I blame her, I mean, just last night we thought
we was gonna lose him. But he's better today and they upgraded him to stable, t hank God. Not that he's out of the woods yet, but that's a whole lot better than what we was dealing with yesterday."
Robin felt sick, violently sick, the guilt already choking her. If only they had gone to the coast like they had planned, if only she hadn't been so damn selfish, so intent on that goddamned acquisition. “W-what happened?” she forced herself to ask. “When?”
“Thursday night. He snuck out, got caught up with that little Frankie shit, and before Norma knew he was gone—”
“Frankie?” Robin closed her eyes. “Did you say Frankie?”
“Yeah, you know, that little juvenile delinquent?”
A wave of unconscionable relief swept through her. Not Jake. Not Jake—Oh God. Robin opened her eyes, felt cold fear wrap around her heart and squeeze tightly again. Not Jake… Cole. It was Cole! “Where is he?”
“Ben Taub.”
“T hank you, Vickie! T hank you!” she cried and hung up, already running for her shoes.
The family was gathered in the intensive care waiting room of Houston's Ben Taub Trauma Center, just like reception had suggested. All of the family except Jake, that was. Robin clenched her fists to stop her hands from shaking and walked in.
Norma was the first to see her; her icy gaze passed over Robin as she folded her arms so defensively across her middle that she looked as if she might break. The woman was even more drawn than usual, Robin noticed; her jaw set in a smokeless clench, her lips all but disappeared.
Vickie and Wanda were there, as was Derek, and a few others Robin didn't know who seemed to be with the group. And Zaney, t hank God, Zaney.
He got up when Robin stepped across the threshold, met her at the door. “Hey,” he said flatly, the buoyancy gone from his voice.
“How… how's Cole?” she whispered.
Zaney frowned, shook his head. “Things ain't lookin' too good for the Colester.”
'“Where's Jake?”
“He's down there where's he's been the whole time, just standing outside the little dude's door,” Zaney said. “But he ain't in a talkin' kinda mood.”
She ignored that piece of advice and pointed to her left. “Down there?”
Zaney nodded.
She smiled thinly, patted his arm and stepped around him, walked to where the family was sitting. Vickie and Wanda looked up, smiled uncertainly. Norma wouldn't look at her, even though she stood directly in front of her. “Mrs. Manning, I am so… so sorry,” she said sincerely.
Norma lifted her gaze to Robin, piercing her with it. “That's real nice of you. But right now, we're a family trying to cope with a tragedy. It'd be best if you came some other time.”
That took Robin aback—okay, maybe she deserved it; she wasn't sure. She wasn't sure of anything anymore. She simply nodded, turned on her heel, and walked out of the waiting room and in the direction Zaney had indicated.
She found Jake in the second hallway, staring intently through a bank of windows across from the wall that seemed to be holding him up. She approached cautiously, not quite sure what to expect. God, he looked awful, like he hadn't slept in days. The stubble of a beard shadowed his face; his cheeks looked almost sunken.
Jake saw her from the corner of his eye; he seemed surprised, stiffened straight, and shoved a hand through his uncombed hair as if he didn't quite know what to do.
Robin walked to where he was standing, followed his gaze to the bank of windows… and saw Cole. Oh Jesus, there were tubes hooked up in his arms and nose, bandages covering what she could see of him. Stunned, Robin moved toward the window, put her hand against the glass and gaped at him, trying to absorb the extent of his injuries. "Dear
God," she whispered. He wasn't moving at all; a nurse changing one of his IV drips smiled sadly at Robin. She turned around, saw the tears glistening in Jake's eyes as he looked at his nephew.
“It's my fault,” he said hoarsely. “If I had taken him to the coast like I said… but I didn't, and he went out with Frankie—”
A stab of guilt knifed right through her. “Where is Frankie?” she managed to ask. “Is he okay?”
Jake snorted ruefully. “Minor scratches, that's all, can you believe it? Cole has two broken legs, internal injuries… they don't even know about his head yet. And that little shit walked away from it.”
He shifted his gaze to Cole again, looking terribly lost. Robin instinctively reached for his hand, but Jake shoved it in his pocket.
That stung. She clasped her hands together and looked everywhere but at Jake. “Do you know what happened?”
“He snuck out with Frankie. They went down the levee, smoked a couple of joints, apparently. Then Frankie got the bright idea to go for a ride in his brother's car. He was speeding down one of those little two-lane roads that go down to the bayou. Apparently his front wheel went off the road where there wasn't any shoulder, and they rolled.”
“Was there anyone else?”
“No, t hank God,” Jake said wearily. “Just Frankie and Cole. Fuck.” He sighed heavily, pushed away from the wall and went to the window, pressed up against it to look at Cole. After a long moment, he shifted his gaze to Robin. His eyes were swimming in grief as he shook his head. “T hank s for coming by, but… I wish you hadn't.”
His words landed with a blow; the disappointment burned in her.
“I just can't do this right now, Robin. You and me—it's obvious we're just not meant to be. And right now, I need to think about Cole. He needs me,” he said and looked through the window again. “So like I said… t hank s for coming.” He smiled thinly, crossed his arms over his chest,
and turned fully toward the window, gazing down at his motionless nephew.
Dumbfounded, Robin stood rooted to her spot, unable to take her eyes from Jake's back. She could understand, really she could on some weird level. She thought it only fair to walk away and leave him to his grief. Except there was one little problem. “I need you, too, Jake,” she said to his back.
His shoulders tensed. “No, you don't. You just think you do, and you feel sorry—”
“I feel sorry, all right,” she interrupted him with a strangled laugh. “Sorry for all the things I should have said and didn't. Sorry that I didn't listen, sorry that I didn't understand, sorry for Cole, for you, for your family. But I… I need you. And damn it, Jake, you need me.”
He bowed his head for a moment, then glanced at her over his shoulder. “You don't need me, Robin. You need Minot and—”
“I didn't go.” That clearly surprised him; Robin seized the opportunity, shook her head as she took a careful step forward. “You were right. About everything. I realized it when we got to the airport. And then… then I just ran. I ran as fast as I could to find you. But you didn't answer your phone, so I thought you had gone to the coast and I waited. Only then I couldn't wait anymore, and I found your Mom's number, and when I got Vickie on the phone, I thought it was you.…” A sob lodged in her throat; she looked up at the ceiling tiles, blinking through hot tears. “I thought it was you,” she said slowly, “and it literally sucked the life right out of me.”
“I wish it had been me,” he muttered, looking at Cole again. “But I was wasting that night away, pining for you. Pining for something that was beyond my reach to begin with.” He swung his gaze to Robin, his jaw firmly set. “I appreciate your concern, I really do, but I just can't afford this anymore, Robin. Look, I gave it my all and it didn't work out. I've accepted that and I'm ready to move on. I have to think of Cole. You need to move on, too, baby. Don't… don't drag this out and make it harder for us both, okay?”
Man, that sounded like something she would say. Maybe had said at some point. And she stood there, searching his face, but his expression was stony, the set of his jaw unyielding—he honestly looked as if he never wanted to lay eyes on her again. “Please just go.”
God, she had screwed it all up.
Slowly, she nodded, let her gaze fall to the blue-and-white linoleum tiles. “Okay. Just one last thing. I have moved on. I have moved out from beneath my shroud, and without that shadow hanging over me, I can see very clearly now that I love you, and I need you, and I want to be with you, however that has to be.”
Jake didn't respond; she couldn't bear to look at him, afraid she would beg like a little girl when it was really too late, just as she had feared. Too late. “Okay, I'll go,” she said hoarsely and turned, took a step away from him. But her body stopped, her heart unwilling to give up just yet. “Okay, I'm going,” she said again, trying to will herself to do just that, tears blurring her sight as a curious nurse walked past them. “I'm gonna go, but you know what, Jake? I wish you well, too.”
“Robin—”
“I wish you fields of gold and wildflowers, and clear summer days for baseball. I wish you sweet dreams when you lay your head on your pillow and infinite hope when you wake up. I wish you homemade quilts to lay on when you stargaze, lights in the windows when you come home after a hard day's work, easy fly balls, and good friends to laugh with.” She heard a rustling behind her, imagined he was walking away again, and closed her eyes. “But most of all I wish you peace, and I wish you love, and I wish that whoever it comes from loves you even a tenth as much I love you, because—”
He startled her by pulling her into his embrace and burying his face in her hair. “Don't,” he said low. “Don't do this unless you intend to stay, because I can't let you go, do you understand?”