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Susan touched Andrew’s shoulder, and he pulled his gaze from Lucas to look at her, as if he’d forgotten the rest of the world. The conversation with the police didn’t take long. They were involved in the search earlier and sympathetic to Kandace’s plight.
Susan tugged the sleeve of Andrew’s coat. “You’re going to be here for a while. Might as well take this off,” she said gently.
“Right. Thanks.” He shrugged out of the jacket and let her take it.
He turned his attention back to the bed before she finished draping his jacket and hers over a chair. She repeated the gesture with Kandace, whose look was equally haunted.
In a way, it felt wrong to be here. As if she was intruding on too private a moment for an outsider. At the same time, she didn’t want to leave them alone. This was what it looked like when family cared. In a twisted way, she envied Lucas. Not his situation, but if it had been her, hurt or lost, would her father care beyond how it would damage his image in the community?
She shook aside the venom-filled and selfish thought, and dragged a chair in from another room. When the legs scraped against tile, screeching through the quiet, she cringed. Neither Andrew nor Kandace looked up. She positioned herself next to Andrew and intertwined her fingers with his.
He squeezed until their hands shook, and then relaxed his grip with a sigh. “I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be.”
“Thank you for finding him.” Andrew’s voice was barely more than a whisper.
“You got us there. I helped finish the thought.”
“Thank you anyway. I don’t know what I’d do if...”
She traced her thumb over his. “I know, but that’s not how it went down, so it’s not worth dwelling on.”
“You’re pretty smart sometimes, Suzie-Q.”
“What can I say? It’s a gift.”
Silence descended again, smothering until Susan had to remind herself nothing had changed in the air. That she could breathe fine.
Someone knocked lightly on the open hospital door, and the three swiveled their heads toward the sound. A woman stood there with a boy about Lucas’s age, whose eyes were red rimmed and puffy.
“Rose.” Kandace’s voice sounded like it filtered through sandpaper. She cleared her throat. “What’s up?”
Rose nudged the boy forward. “I don’t want to interrupt, but Noah needs to talk to you. He insisted. Go ahead, honey.”
“It’s my fault. I’m sorry.” Noah started sobbing and shaking, until Susan worried he might rattle apart.
Rose knelt behind him and hugged him. “It’s okay. They won’t be mad.”
Andrew’s grip sent a tremor through Susan’s arm. For several minutes, the loudest sound in the room was the boy’s cries, mingling with his mother’s wordless whisper.
Noah hiccupped and sniffled. He looked up again. “A few weeks ago, at school, Lucas kissed me. And I liked it.” He searched the faces in the room, as if he were terrified that alone would get him in trouble. “So last night, I thought it was okay. And we were playing, and I kissed him back. And he got so mad, and told me he hated me and he hated himself and he wished he’d never been born. And that’s when he left.”
Andrew hissed, low and long. Susan didn’t know if anyone else heard.
Kandace slid from her chair, to crouch next to Noah. She looked him in the eye. “Thank you for telling us,” she said. “You’re not in trouble. And this isn’t your fault. Do you understand?”
He nodded. “Will Lucas be okay?”
Susan’s gut clenched at the pause.
“Of course he will. He’ll stay at your house again soon, if you want.” Kandace gave him an awkward hug. She talked to Rose for a minute or two in hushed tones, then mother and son left.
“Conversion therapy won’t be a big deal.” Andrew’s tone was snide. “It’s his decision. He’ll be fine.”
The look Kandace shot him would have wilted any plant in its path. “That’s helpful.”
Andrew growled and stomped to his feet. “I need some air.” He looked at Susan. “Keep me company?”
She nodded. The way he pulled her to stand, his arm around her waist, and the tender gestures felt natural. She waited until they made it down the hallway, to a waiting room with a window overlooking the parking garage, before speaking. “How are you doing?”
“I feel like shit.” He turned his back to the glass and leaned against the wall underneath, before tugging her to face him. He trailed his gaze over her. “You’re a mess.”
She looked down. She was covered in dirt from crawling into the abandoned building. Brushing it away didn’t do her any good. “I guess so.”
“I should get you a ride home.” He didn’t move.
“I’d rather stay here. Make sure Lucas is all right. That you are. Unless you want me to go.”
“I really don’t.”
“Then I’m staying.”
He kicked from the wall and paced to another window at the far end of the room, and she stayed by his side. “I didn’t meet him for the first time until he was three.” Andrew stared out at the night. “Before then, I sent any spare cash back home to help Kandace. Buying a plane ticket home felt selfish, when I barely had any money as it was. When I saw him... There was no doubt he had my genes. Same gorgeous hair and swoon-worthy eyes.”
She leaned her arm into his. At least Andrew was himself, under the worry and grief. “I see that in him,” she said. “He’ll be a different kind of sweet-talker than you are, though.”
“As in, he’ll actually sweet-talk?”
“Sounds right.”
Andrew let out a forced chuckle. “It was hard for me to leave after that trip. Lucas was so happy with Kandace, though. And she obviously loved him. I was getting the business off the ground, and I’d never had that kind of money before. It was easy to convince myself I needed to get back out into the world, in order to keep things growing. I went back about six months later. It was harder to leave that time. After that, I got really good at making excuses for why I couldn’t come visit. I was terrified my being here would disrupt the life Kandace built for them.”
She’d heard this tone from him before. Seen the look in his eyes. Recognized the way he sounded like he was falling into the past. It was the same as when he told her the story about Belgium. Like then, pain on his behalf gnawed at her joints and echoed through her veins. Nothing she said would alleviate whatever tormented him.
He gripped the ledge until his knuckles turned red, then white. “When Mercy moved back here earlier this year, and I started flying out for meetings, I spent more and more time with Lucas and Kandace. I decided I didn’t want to be cut out of their lives anymore. Now... I wonder if I was being selfish again.”
“You didn’t cause this any more than that boy did.”
“I know. Or I tell myself I do. The mind plays funny tricks during times like this.”
She loosened his grip, to slide her hand under his, palm up. “You’re here now, and so is he. You’ve got time.”
“Yeah. We should get back.”
She nodded, though he didn’t see. They settled back into Lucas’s room and waited. She didn’t know how much time passed. An hour? Two? A ring filled the room. Andrew and Kandace didn’t look up. Susan fumbled in her jacket pocket, realizing she hadn’t returned Andrew’s phone. Mercy’s name was on the screen. Susan squeezed Andrew’s shoulder, then headed into the hallway.
“Hey.” She kept her voice low.
“Thank God you’re all right. I know I shouldn’t worry—you’re an adult and all—but you don’t have a phone or a car and you didn’t come home. You are okay, aren’t you?”
The concern soothed Susan more than she expected. “I am, but I don’t know when I’ll be back.”
“What’s going on?”
A spark of warmth spread through Susan at the questions. She gave Mercy a brief run-down of the last several hours.
“I don’t know what to say. How are Andrew and Kandace holding up?” Mercy asked.
“A lot of staring and worrying. About what you’d expect.”
“Call me if you have news but don’t make me a priority. And, hey.”
“Hmm...?” Susan said.
“Someone should be there for them. I’m glad it’s you.”
“Thanks.” Susan set the phone to silent and dropped it into her pocket.
*
ANDREW WAS VAGUELY aware of a ringing phone and Susan leaving. He looked up when she wandered back in. She gave Kandace a cup of coffee and a pink-frosted cookie wrapped in plastic.
“The cafeteria is closed”—Susan crossed the room and handed him coffee and a granola bar—“so I had to get vending-machine food. I’m sorry it’s not fancier. You both should eat,” she said.
“Yes, ma’am.” Andrew forced the food down his throat, not tasting any of it, and washed it down with coffee that scalded. When it all hit his stomach, he realized how hungry he was.
Susan handed him a second bar and sat.
Kandace ate more slowly, sectioning off pieces one at a time. “Thank you.”
Susan yawned wide, not masking it well with her hand. Was she on her second sleepless night, after what happened with her father? That seemed so long ago.
Andrew patted his knee. “Come here.”
She shifted in her seat until she could lay her head on his leg. The warm weight helped focus his thoughts. He trailed his fingers through her hair and turned his attention back to Lucas. Please, God. Whatever you want, let him be all right.
Seconds turned to minutes, and Susan’s breathing slowed. Andrew let her sleep. Someone should be able to get some rest. He looked at Kandace. “I can’t keep leaving him after a couple of weeks. This will be my first Christmas ever with him, and it feels wrong there haven’t been more.”
“You can’t take him back to Georgia.” Kandace sounded as exhausted as he felt.
“Because it’d be selfish of me. Isn’t that what you always say? The way you always get me to leave him in your hands?”
She shook her head. “He’s got his friends here.”
“He’s got a school and a support foundation who have pushed him to think he doesn’t deserve to live if he likes other boys that way.” Andrew kept his voice low, despite the anger thrumming through him.
Kandace crumpled the empty plastic wrapper, then watched it expand, before squashing it in her fist again. “I’m not saying you need to walk away from him. I’m saying you can’t take him back to Georgia with you.”
“So what? I pick up and move my entire life here?”
She looked from him, to Susan, to Lucas, then back at Andrew again. “Do you really hate this town that much?”
“That’s not the point. I’m established in Georgia.”
“And Lucas’s established here. Are you leaving friends behind? Do you have associates you can’t communicate with online? You know—through your web-based business?”
He wanted to argue, but the longer the idea bounced in his head, the harder it was to ignore.
Lucas let out a croaky groan, and Andrew whirled in time to see the boy flutter his eyelids. Andrew’s heart leapt into his throat, and he pushed the call button for the nurse. Kandace was on her feet, grasping Lucas’s hand.
Andrew grasped Susan’s shoulder. “Wake up, sleepy head.”
She sat straight up. He helped her stumble to her feet, and pulled her with him as the doctor and nurse rushed into the room. They pulled the breathing tube out, ran tests, spat numbers at each other, and checked monitors over and over.
Lucas lay there, eyes closed and consciousness gone again.
The doctor turned to Kandace. “He’s closer to safe. He’s breathing on his own, but we need him to wake up.”
She nodded.
Susan pulled Andrew’s arms around her, offering more comfort than he suspected he was giving her. She felt like the closest thing to a lifeline he’d ever had, and fuck if he didn’t need that.