Chapter Twenty-Seven
Jack ran toward the hospital elevator. Gage had called to let him know Grace had gone into shock when he’d broken the news about little Jack. They’d started an IV in the ambulance. As the elevator doors opened, Jack pushed past the nurse. “Grace.” Her beautiful eyes haunted in her pale face, she looked at him, and he reached for her hand. She turned her head.
“Sir,” the orderly said, “we have to get her to her room.”
Jack let his hand drop to his side. She’d never forgive him. He stepped back as they wheeled her past him and down the hall. He didn’t think he’d be able to forgive himself.
Jack followed behind and leaned against the wall outside the room where they’d taken Grace. “Come with me. We’ll check out your knee,” Dr. McBride said, appearing at his side.
“No, I…” He scrubbed his face. “I’ve gotta talk to Grace. Just for a minute. All I need is a minute.” To tell her how fucking sorry he was and to try to explain what had happened.
“Son, look at me.” Dr. McBride put a hand on his shoulder and waited until Jack dragged his gaze from the floor. “Let them examine Grace and let me look after you. They’ll have completed the tests on little Jack by then, and you’ll have some news for her.”
“Be straight with me, what are…” He swallowed painfully before continuing, “What are his chances?”
“Good. You gave him CPR, and the EMTs were able to start treatment almost immediately.” The EMTs had told him the same thing.
Jack tipped his head back against the wall, struggling to contain his emotions. He’d shut them down seconds after realizing little Jack was in the pool. The gate had been locked. Jack had to climb an eight-foot wrought-iron fence to reach him. No one but his son would’ve spotted the opening at the bottom. He started CPR on little Jack before he had him out of the pool, yelling for the EMTs when he heard them enter Maria’s room.
Dr. McBride nodded at whoever approached and said, “I’ll be right back.” As he moved away, Jack found himself pulled into a hard hug. “I’m so fucking sorry, buddy,” Sawyer said, drawing in a ragged breath, as if he, too, was having a hard time keeping it together. “What can I do for you?” he asked once he released Jack.
“Pray.”
“Got it covered. Nell activated the town’s prayer line. How’s Grace doing?”
“I haven’t had a chance to talk to her yet.” He didn’t tell his best friend that he didn’t think she’d ever speak to him again.
Sawyer must’ve read the fear on his face and put a hand on his shoulder. “It was an accident. It could’ve happened to anyone. You saved both little Jack and Maria. Don’t beat yourself up over this.”
Jill, her complexion stark white, her eyes tormented but dry, strode down the hall toward them with the change of clothes he’d asked for. She was holding it together for him.
She gave Sawyer a brisk nod and handed Jack his clothes. “Any word yet on little Jack?”
“They’re running tests. They took him for a CT scan a few minutes ago.”
“That’s good. He’s stable, then,” Sawyer said, keeping an eye on Jill as he did.
“Yeah, that’s what they said.”
“Jack.” Dr. McBride motioned for him from the other end of the hall. “Let’s get an x-ray of that knee.”
Sawyer frowned, taking in Jack’s torn jeans and his bruised and swollen knee. “Doc’s right, you better get that looked at. We’ll stay here in case Grace needs us.”
Jack was about to protest until Jill said, “Please, I don’t want to worry about you, too.”
He knew neither of them would let up and started to walk toward Dr. McBride. As he did, Sawyer tucked Jill’s hair behind her ear. “How you holding up?”
“Good. I’m good.”
“Yeah, I know you’re tough, shortstop,” Sawyer said, tugging her into his arms.
Halfway down the hall, Jack heard her sobbing.
* * *
Sitting in the pew in the small hospital chapel, Jack buried his face in his hands as he relived the moment he saw his son facedown in the pool. The moment Grace, lying pale on the stretcher, looked right through him. The door behind him creaked open, and he straightened, knuckling his eyes with his fists.
Patrick Murray sat down heavily beside him. “Done beatin’ yourself up, boy-o?”
“Nope. Go ahead, get your licks in.”
The old man leaned back, crossing his arms over his chest. “That girl and the wee devil mean a lot to me. I’d be first in line to give you those licks if I thought you deserved them, but you don’t.” He looked around the chapel. “Libby spent a lot of time in here praying for you, you know.”
“Yeah, I can imagine.”
“I can see you don’t believe me. She wasn’t easy on you kids, I know that better than most. But she did the best she knew how. It wasn’t easy on her, either. Your lad’s a handful, and you were the same. Only you were an angry ten-year-old. Your mother taking her life like she did hit Libby hard. She blamed herself and was going to make damn sure nothing happened to either of you kids. She’d be proud of the man you turned into, Jackson Flaherty.”
Until that moment, Jack had never thought of what it must’ve been like for his grandmother raising him and his sister on her own. He had a tough time keeping up with his son, and he was only thirty-five. Libby’d been close to sixty when she’d taken them in. And old man Murray was right: Jack had been an angry and scared kid and acted out because of it. “Appreciate you saying so, sir.”
“Now let’s go check on that wife of yours.” Murray heaved himself from the pew.
“She doesn’t want to see me.” After Dr. McBride had x-rayed him and taped his knee, Jackson had gone to her room, only to be turned away by the nurse. Sawyer and Jill had seen her, though.
“We’ll check on the wee devil, then. He’ll be waking up in no time and wantin’ to see his da.” As Murray limped beside Jack to the door, the old man cast him a sidelong glance. “Don’t you worry about Gracie. Give her time. I’ll put a good word in for you. Give her a talkin’ to, if need be.”
It surprised him that the bane of his teenage existence had turned into his champion. And oddly enough, Jack was able to let go of the anger and resentment he’d nursed against his grandmother for all these years, thanks to the old man. As for him helping to change Grace’s mind, that was debatable, but Jack would take all the help he could get.
When they reached little Jack’s floor, they learned he was still undergoing tests.
“There’s been no change. The doctor should be finished in about fifteen minutes. Why don’t you get yourself something to eat, Mr. Flaherty, and come back then? And, sir,” the nurse on duty said to Patrick, “only family allowed.”
The old man’s face fell, and Jack heard himself say, “He is family.”
Murray nodded with a smile. “Yeah, I am family.”
“Thank you,” the old man said as they once again got on the elevator.
Jack shrugged. “You mean a lot to my wife and son. I appreciate you being there for them when I couldn’t be.”
When the doors opened on Grace’s floor, Murray stayed behind. “I’m going to get some flowers for Gracie. Help you win her over. I’ll be back in a bit.”
It would take a lot more than flowers to win his wife over, but he thanked the old man. As Jack rounded the corner, he heard General Garrison’s booming voice. Sawyer and Jill were with him and so was Grace’s mother.
“Sir, Mrs. Garrison,” Jack said as he reached them, bracing for the general’s harsh rebuke.
“Jack.” Garrison surprised him by ignoring Jack’s proffered hand and pulling him into a hug. “Sad business, son. Damn shame what happened. How’s my baby girl?”
They must’ve just arrived. “The doctors—”
“Oh, stop it, Frank. She’s fine. And if you hadn’t coddled her growing up, she wouldn’t have reacted as badly as she did,” Mrs. Garrison said in an icy tone of voice, offering her cheek for Jack to kiss. “I’m sorry, Jackson. You must be as ashamed as I am by her behavior, especially after how badly she treated you.”
Was she for real? Jack looked from Sawyer, to Jill, to his father-in-law, to see if he’d heard her right. From his sister and Sawyer’s shocked expressions and the general’s angry, flushed face, he had. “Mrs. Garrison, my wife suffered one of the worst shocks a parent can have. She didn’t react badly. She reacted like any parent would who is worried they might lose their child. I don’t know if you’re aware of this or not, but my son is upstairs fighting for his life.” Jack’s voice broke, and he struggled to regain his composure. Sawyer squeezed his shoulder.
Grace’s mother sniffed, lifting her nose in the air. “You’re as bad as her father. I know very well what she’s going through, Jackson. I lost my child because of your wife.”
“What? What did you just say?”
“Helena”—the general took his wife’s arm, looking like he wanted to shake the woman—“that’s enough. Jack, we’ll…” His voice trailed off. “Grace, baby,” he said on a pained whisper.
Jack turned to see his wife leaning against the door frame, holding on to her IV.
* * *
Grace held up a hand as Jack came to her side, shaking her head when he suggested she get back into bed. She’d heard everything her mother had said. Skye was right. It was time for Grace to deal with her mother once and for all. What had happened to their son was as much Grace’s fault as Jack’s. If she hadn’t been trying so hard to make everything perfect for her mother, she wouldn’t have told him to take little Jack out for the day. She would’ve gone for that walk with them like Jack had wanted her to, been with him when he went to help Maria.
She smiled at him to temper her rejection. She imagined her refusal to see him earlier had hurt him. He was suffering as much as, probably more than, she was. It wasn’t until her visit with Sawyer and Jill that she’d learned what had happened at the lodge.
Facing her mother, Grace said, “You’ve never been able to forgive me, have you?”
“This is not the time or place, Grace. We do not air our private affairs in public.”
“Moot point, mother. You already did.” She cleared her throat, her gaze moving from Jill to Sawyer to Jack. “When I was twelve, my sister, Faith, drowned. My mother blamed me. Until today, I thought it was my fault. Because of what happened to little Jack, I know now it was an accident.” She took Jack’s hand. “I’m sorry I turned you away earlier. I just needed a little time to get myself together. It wasn’t your fault, Jack. You saved our son. You saved Maria.”
He kissed her temple. “Baby, you don’t have to listen to her. Let me—”
She caressed his clenched jaw. “Yes, I do. I have to do this for me, for us.”
“Faith’s death was not an accident. You were the best swimmer on the swim team. You could’ve saved her if you’d wanted to—”
“My God, Helena, how can—”
“No, Daddy, please let her finish.”
“How, Frank… How can I blame her? I’ll tell you how. I heard her that day. I heard her tell her seven-year-old sister, who followed her around like an adoring puppy, that she was sick to death of her. That she hated her and wished she’d never been born.”
Tears welled in Grace’s eyes and spilled down her cheeks. It was true. She’d yelled the words in the heat of anger and frustration. Words she’d regret to her dying day. “Children say cruel and hateful things. I loved my sister, but I didn’t want to spend every waking minute with her. I was twelve, and it was the summer holidays. I wanted to spend time with my friends, and I wasn’t allowed to because I had to look after Faith.”
The edges of her mother’s mouth whitened. “Are you blaming me?”
“No, it was an accident. I didn’t know she’d followed me when I snuck out of the house. And I didn’t know you were…” too drunk to pay any attention, she silently finished. There was only so much dirty laundry she’d air in public. “And I didn’t know she’d gone in the river until I heard her screaming for help. And I did help her, Mother. I almost died getting her out of that undertow. We’d just started our CPR course, but I did my best. It took the ambulance thirty minutes to get there, and I never stopped trying to save her.” She was crying now—so were her father and Jill—and the last words came out garbled. Jack had left her side a few moments ago and returned now with a wheelchair. “Sit down, princess,” he said, helping her into the chair.
Her father came and crouched in front of her, taking her hands in his. “Never, not once, did I blame you.”
“You sent me away.”
He bowed his head and briefly closed his eyes before raising his gaze to hers. “I did what I thought was best for you. Your mother…” He gave a weary shake of his head. “We should’ve talked about this before now.” With a squeeze of her hands, he stood up. “I have to do something, something I should’ve done a long time ago. I’ll be back. You take care of my baby girl, Jack.”
He went to Grace’s mother, who stood clutching her purse in a grip as tight as her face, and took her by the arm.
“I hope your son is all right,” Helena said stiffly.
“Thank you,” she said quietly as her father led her mother away. Grace didn’t know if her mother would ever forgive her, but she thought she’d finally be able to forgive herself.
* * *
Grace woke up in the middle of the night to the steady beep of the monitors. Since she’d refused to leave her son’s side, Dr. McBride had had a bed brought in for her. She reached through the bars and touched little Jack’s small hand, startling at the sound of Jack’s voice. The room was dark enough that it made it difficult to see him sitting in the chair across from their son’s hospital bed.
“Matt checked him an hour ago. He’s happy with his progress. He’s going to be fine, Grace.”
They’d spent the day and most of the evening talking about little Jack and her sister, and why Grace had never confided in him. Jack seemed to understand that the topic had been forbidden in her home, her guilt so difficult to deal with that she’d followed the course her mother’d mapped out all those years ago.
“I thought you were going home to get some sleep.”
He smiled as he came to her side. “I tried. Got to the front doors of the hospital and couldn’t leave. I grabbed a coffee, talked with Nell, Ted, Fred, and old man Murray for a bit.”
She patted the bed, and he lay down beside her. Curving his arm around her waist, he tucked her against him, resting his chin on top of her head.
“He looks so small,” she said, stroking little Jack’s arm through the bars.
“Yeah, but he’s a fighter.”
“Just like his dad.”
“Just like his mom.”
She turned her head to look at him, and he kissed her nose. “Are you okay?” After going through a similar experience, she knew how those images remained burned in your brain.
“Getting there. How about you?”
“Same. Did Sawyer tell you about the time I lost little Jack?” He shook his head. “It was the night we found out you were alive. I was making a sugar plum cake in honor of your birthday and little Jack was helping. He smushed a flag into the wildflower garden, and I couldn’t let it go. I couldn’t stand that the last cake I made for you wouldn’t be perfect. While I was fixing the flowers, he escaped through the back door. If it weren’t for Sawyer finding him in the alley, who knows what would’ve happened.”
“It’s good to know I’m not the only one he takes off on.”
“I’m going to work really hard to relax, Jack, to not worry so much if everything isn’t perfect. Now that I’ve come to terms with my guilt, it should be easier, but…” She shrugged. “I’m going to try.”
“So am I.”
She frowned. “You’re not controlling or a perfectionist.”
He laughed, low and deep. “Yeah, you’ve pointed that out to me occasionally. The perfectionist part. But in talking with Skye tonight, I realized I’ve got some control issues of my own. I’ve made things harder for you by not deciding what to do with my life.”
“You don’t have to—”
He gently pressed a finger to her lips. “Let me finish.”
“No.” She kissed his finger before removing it from her lips. “Since you’ve come home, you’ve bent over backward to make me happy. Even though you hated the bakery, you kept it. Same goes for the house on Sugar Plum Lane. The only reason you bid on it was to make me happy. It’s my turn, Jack. You’re going to take your time and figure out what you want to do. To figure out what will make you happy. And if that means you want to move back to the base, we’ll move. If you… What?” she said as he looked down at her, an unreadable emotion in his eyes.
“Grace Flaherty, I adore you,” he said, brushing his lips over her hair. “And I appreciate what you’re trying to do. But part of my problem with Christmas and the bakery, even buying a house, was tied up in the past. To be honest, the idea of having our own home was starting to grow on me. And the bakery’s doing well, better than well. Our future is the only thing that matters, baby—yours, mine, and little Jack’s. So what do you think about living in Christmas?”
“Are you sure, Jack? I need this to be as much about you as it is about me.”
“Yeah.” He smiled. “Half the town showed up today to check on you and little Jack. We’ve got a good support system here, lots of friends and family.”
“We do. We’re very lucky.”
“Yeah, we are. And, princess, I have a job if I want it. Sawyer talked to the head of search and rescue. They’re looking to hire.”
“That would be perfect…” she began, then decided to banish that word from her vocabulary. Life wasn’t perfect. It wasn’t meant to be. If you didn’t go through the bad times, the sad times, you wouldn’t appreciate how incredible the good times were. “I mean, it sounds like something you’d enjoy. What do you think?”
“I get to come home to you and little Jack every night and keep flying—can’t get much better than that.”
She was about to agree with him when little Jack’s fingers moved in her hand. “He’s waking up.”
Jack was off the bed and to their son’s side before Grace had pushed herself upright.
“Hey, buddy,” he said gruffly as he lowered the rail and took little Jack’s other hand.
“Okay, we’ll see what we can do about that.” Jack looked at Grace, his eyes glassy. “I think we’re all going to be just fine.”
“I think so, too,” she said and kissed her son’s head. “Hi, baby.”