by Kim Law
They hated when she called them idiots, because their past grades and current career choices indicated otherwise. However, as she’d shared with Jaden, she tested higher than any of them. Therefore, calling them idiots had been a favorite pastime for years.
“She’s pushing right now,” one of her sisters-in-law said, but before Arsula could figure out which one, the door to the room behind them opened. They whirled as one to find Boyd standing there, pride on his face, and looking as exhausted as Arsula imagined Whitney must feel.
“She’s here,” he said, and every one of them cheered. Then he turned to Arsula. “We’d like you to be the first to meet her.”
“Really?” Her palms grew sweaty.
Boyd nodded and ushered her in, and the moment she stepped inside the birthing room and saw the tiny baby suckling at her mama’s breast, Arsula almost had a breakdown. She’d done her best for the full length of the drive to allow thoughts of the fight with Jaden not to seep into her consciousness, but as she looked upon the love and tenderness in the room—and given that she knew how much Boyd loved and respected his wife—Arsula accepted what she’d known as she’d driven away.
Jaden wasn’t the one for her, either. And she’d never have his babies suckling at her breast.
She swallowed past the pain. She hadn’t even known she wanted the opportunity to someday have Jaden’s babies, but the knowledge rang loud and clear.
“Arsula.” When Boyd spoke beside her, she realized she hadn’t taken more than a couple of steps into the room.
“I’m sorry,” she whispered back. “It’s just so moving to feel such love in one space.”
He slid an arm around her and hugged her to him, and she laid her head on her brother’s shoulder. Then she felt the tears begin.
“Don’t cry,” he told her. “You haven’t even held her yet.”
She sniffled. “I know.”
But she also knew that her tears were as much for her loss as for her brother’s gain.
She finally made herself move forward, and she smiled at her sister-in-law. “How are you, Whitney?”
New-mama love glowed back at her. “My life is complete,” she said, and Arsula nodded in understanding. They were more than a couple now. They were a family. And they would be the best thing this tiny baby would ever know.
“Do you want to hold her?” her brother asked, and she jerked her attention back to him.
“Can I?” She took in the baby’s soft wisp of dark fuzz covering her head and her four little perfect fingers and thumb resting against Whitney’s bare skin. “She’s so tiny.”
Whitney nodded. “But she’s a Moretti, so you know she’s going to be tough.”
That, Arsula did know.
Medical personnel remaining in the room faded from Arsula’s peripheral vision as she stepped to the side of the bed, and her brother reached for his daughter. He pressed a kiss to the baby’s head, smiled down in awe at both mother and child, and then held his daughter out for his sister to take.
“Arsula,” he said, his voice heavy with emotion, “meet your namesake.”
The text message indicator on Jaden’s phone displayed a small 4. Four messages he had yet to read. All from Arsula. And all arriving within a thirty-minute span that morning, the first one waking him up. Jaden pressed the button to turn off the display, same as he’d done at least thirty times since he’d arrived at the hospital. Then he shoved the device back into his pocket and pretended it didn’t exist.
“He’s going to be okay,” he heard Gloria saying from her seat a couple of rows behind his. He didn’t know who she was talking to because everyone was there. “He’s got to be okay.”
“What was he doing out on the tractor so early this morning?” That came from Cord, who’d just arrived, thanks to Nick’s wife flying in her helicopter to pick him up.
“And why had he tried to climb a tree with it?” Nick added, his tone morose, and Jaden watched Cord as clarity hit. They hadn’t shared that part of the story with him earlier because the scene they’d witnessed when his dad had been found hadn’t made sense. But the sheriff had stopped by an hour ago and confirmed it. Their dad’s tractor had hit the fifty-year-old birch head-on.
Gloria whimpered, and though Jaden couldn’t see her, he imagined her shaking her head at his brothers’ questions. But she likely did know what their dad had been doing out on a tractor before dawn. Just as Jaden could also guess. Hadn’t she been the one to bring it up to him and Arsula when they’d stopped by?
His dad had been worried about losing trees for weeks because his gut had told him he should be. And now, thanks to the extremely fast—and record-breaking—temperature drop of the week before, they’d likely not only lose the pick-your-own section, but chances were good a large percentage of their entire crop wouldn’t recover. They’d be out of business. The previously warmer-than-usual temps would have woken many of the trees from dormancy, making them instantly vulnerable to a hard freeze, and then boom, a one-hundred-degree drop in a matter of hours. His dad had probably been out there checking on the trees every morning since. Trying to estimate their losses.
But why had he turned away from the fields and driven into a tree?
He pulled his phone back out of his pocket. He’d heard the notifications when the messages had come in that morning, but he’d ignored them. Because he’d assumed they were about him. And because he hadn’t wanted to talk to Arsula. It had been five days since their fight, but he was still smarting from her assumption that she knew so much about who he was and how he hurt on the inside.
Or from pretending that some dream had come to her overnight that led her down the path of how to “fix” him. He didn’t need fixing, dammit.
And he could hardly tolerate sitting there now, knowing that she’d awoken from another dream that morning, and that if he’d only gotten over himself, his dad might not be on the verge of dying at that very moment.
“Jay.”
He looked up to find Megan standing before him, and he rose, letting her wrap her arms around him.
“I got here as soon as I could,” she whispered. “I just heard.”
Jaden nodded. “I appreciate you coming.”
She took his hand, and they lowered to the chairs. Jaden and his family had been there for hours already, with his dad being in surgery for the majority of that.
“How is he?” Megan asked. She leaned in close, friend Megan showing up when he needed her, and Jaden followed his stepmother’s lead. He shook his head. He didn’t know how his father was.
“He could lose a leg,” he finally managed. He wouldn’t talk about a worse possibility. His dad couldn’t die. Jaden hadn’t had a chance to tell him yet how angry he’d been when the man hadn’t been there after his mom died. How angry he still was.
His father had called in Dani to finish raising him instead of taking it upon himself to do so. But why? He was the parent, not Dani. And he was the parent who hadn’t had a mental illness.
He was the one who was supposed to have loved him.
And dang it, how had Arsula figured that out when he’d never come close to realizing it himself? He was the fucking counselor. Not her.
He hadn’t wanted to go to the house when he’d broken his ankle—in his time of need—because he hadn’t wanted to watch his dad not be there for him again. He could be in that house as a grown man standing on his own. But he apparently couldn’t do it as a helpless kid.
“Any idea how much longer he’ll be in surgery?” Megan asked.
Jaden could tell she was trying to be supportive, and he appreciated it. It was times like this that having someone by your side was important.
It was just . . . he wanted Arsula by his side.
And he hated himself—and her—for wanting that.
He glanced down at the unread message notification again and knew that it was his fault his father hadn’t been found until after he’d nearly bled to death. The tractor had hit the tree, rolled, and th
en pinned his dad underneath. And Arsula had been trying to warn him.
Yet had he read the messages, would he have even responded? That question had bothered him as much as knowing that valuable time had been wasted. But the question was a valid one, because he’d never once taken her seriously. Not about that.
“You okay, baby brother?”
Jaden looked up again, realizing that Megan had been replaced with Dani, and he nodded. He was okay. Only, he wasn’t.
Arsula had apparently reached out to Dani, Gabe, Nate, Nick, and Erica when he hadn’t returned any of her messages, and it was thanks to them that their father hadn’t died that morning at the very farm that had been their livelihood throughout their childhood years. The place that had meant both family and what a family should and potentially could be—as well as what a family wasn’t and would never be.
And it was thanks to Arsula that they’d even had the opportunity to be able to save him.
“I’ve had better days,” he admitted. He’d been right there, under the same roof as the man. After his argument with Arsula, he’d packed his things and had Nate bring him home. Yet even though all he’d had to do was read his incoming messages, then go outside and save his father’s life, he’d let pride and selfishness get in the way.
“How’s the ankle, then?” Dani patted his knee, an unsteady smile touching her mouth. “We don’t have to talk about Dad right now. We can talk about something else.”
“Like my ankle?” He laughed humorlessly.
“It’s better than the alternative,” Dani said softly, and suddenly Jaden realized how she was being the strong big sister for them again. As she’d always been. Even though she had a husband who could be her shoulder in this moment of need.
Ben sat with Haley and Mia, along with the rest of Jaden’s family, his gaze on his wife. As Dani sat with Jaden. And it was then that the clouds parted, and the sky began to clear. He was the one in need. Out of their entire family, he was the one who couldn’t seem to function on his own. He needed to have his hand held. For someone to be there for him.
“I can put weight on it now,” he said in answer to his sister’s question, terrified at what his realization might mean. “Physical therapy went well enough last week that I’ve been cleared to use the boot as it was meant to be used.”
“So no more crutches?”
“I’ve already tossed them.”
When she opened her mouth to say something else, he put his hand on her knee. “I’m okay, Dani.” He nodded toward her family. “Go be with Ben. Let Ben take care of you. I’m fine.”
She hurt for him, he knew. She always had. And he would always love her for that. But it was time to stand on his own and stop whining because no one loved him enough.
Because Arsula had been right.
“Go,” he said again. Then he pulled his sister in for hug. “And thank you for everything you’ve ever done for me,” he whispered as he held her tight.
After they parted, she returned to Ben, and Jaden took inventory of the surgery waiting room. There were a couple of other people waiting on news from a loved one, and then there was Jaden’s family—along with a handful of friends who’d heard the news and stopped by. And all of them sat with someone else. All holding a hand or offering a touch. All willing to be an emotional rock for whoever needed it.
They were the normal ones. Not him. They were the ones who could function without a crutch.
It made him wonder at the definition of normal. All this time, he’d have sworn he had that one wrapped up. Yet there was Nick with his ex-military, helicopter pilot wife, Gabe and his new family—and not his miserable excuse for an ex-wife. There was Cord, the MD and the brother who’d potentially experienced the worst of the mental abuse at the hands of their mother. Nate, the twin who was finally ready to come home and just looking for a reason to do so. Dani and her beautiful family.
And then there was him. He would soon have his master’s degree, and like Nate had suggested, he’d likely continue until he earned his PhD. He had a job lined up, money saved for a down payment on a home and to start a family. All “normal,” well-thought-out plans that, not long ago, he’d have sworn were on track to happen. Yet he’d lost not one but two women in a matter of weeks, and that was all on him.
He brought his phone up once again, and he finally tapped to read his messages.
Go find your father. Check to make sure he’s okay.
Jaden, are you seeing this? I think your father is in real danger. Please go check.
I know you think I’m crazy, but I’m terrified for your father. My dream was clear this time. Let me know if he’s okay!
Fine. Ignore me. Pretend I’m a joke. You do that so well. I’ll let the rest of your family know your father may be in danger. Maybe one of them will care more about him than themselves.
He reread the messages. As usual, she was on point.
And as usual, she pulled no punches. That was one of the things he loved about her.
The thought stopped him cold. He loved Arsula?
But not so long ago, he’d thought he loved Megan. He had loved Megan. Only . . . had he really?
And did he now really love Arsula?
How was he supposed to know?
He read her messages one more time, and though he knew Dani had updated her after they’d gotten to the hospital, he typed out one of his own.
Dad is still in surgery. We don’t know anything yet. Thank you for trying to save his life.
A reply immediately followed: Thank you for letting me know. I’m praying.
Tell Aunt Sul to say a prayer, too, will you?
He held his breath as he waited, and when her next message came, it was only a small thumbs-up.
His thumbs hovered over the keyboard. He wanted to say more, to tell her that he missed her and that he was sorry he was an ass. But that little thumbs-up felt intentional. And cold.
So he tucked away his phone, and he understood that a person reaped what they sowed. And that Arsula deserved better than him.
“The Wilde family?”
Twelve heads turned to the scrubs-clad surgeon who’d entered the room. Doc Hamm also stood at the man’s side, and as Gloria rose, the rest of them silently followed. Friends kept the kids while the adults made their way into a small consultation room, and once the door had been closed, the tension hung heavy.
No one said a word. As if no one could bring themselves to ask.
Finally, the surgeon began to speak. “I’ll be honest with you. He was not in good shape when he arrived here. Nor is he in great shape now. But he is alive.”
The entire room let out a collective breath.
“He’s going to be okay?” Gloria’s words were more plea than question.
“The next forty-eight hours are crucial,” the doctor continued. “Your husband lost far more blood than we are comfortable with, Mrs. Wilde. And we did end up having to amputate below the knee.”
Gloria whimpered.
“But he is alive. That’s the important thing. And while on my watch, I’m going to do everything I can to make sure he stays that way.”
Hesitant relief worked its way through the room, and after several questions and answers, the surgeon squeezed Gloria’s hands and nodded to each of her stepchildren. “Your dad’s a fighter. We’re going to be right here, fighting alongside him.”
The surgeon left, but Doc Hamm remained, and Jaden watched as the physician looked to Gloria. She gave a small nod, and worry suddenly filled the room again. As if everyone understood there was more to the story. That there was a reason their dad had run a tractor into a tree at six o’clock that morning.
“What is it?” Gabe asked. He slipped an arm around Erica’s shoulders, while she slid hers behind his waist.
“Your dad is sick,” the doctor informed them. “He hasn’t wanted you all to worry, but it’s time for you to know. He’s getting worse faster than we’d expected.”
“What’s wrong with h
im?” Dani left Ben’s side and ended up standing at the front of the group. “What can we do?”
“You can’t do anything,” Gloria answered, her love for their father evident in the sorrow drawn heavy on her face. “He has a form of rapid-progression Parkinson’s.”
“And though the meds, for the most part, control his quivers,” the doctor explained, “he began experiencing hallucinations recently. We suspect that’s what happened this morning. He saw the tree as some sort of threat, perhaps. Hallucinations don’t happen with everyone who experiences this disease, but at the rate he’s going, I wouldn’t be surprised if his becomes severe over time. And if that happens, he’ll need to be watched around the clock.”
“I’ll do it.” Jaden spoke up before anyone else could, surprising even himself. His dad might not have been there when Jaden had needed him, but Jaden wanted to do right by him.
“I can take care of him, Jaden.” Gloria gave him a patient smile. “But I know he’ll appreciate the offer when he hears of it.”
“We’ll all be there for him,” Gabe added.
Jaden fell silent, wondering why he’d made the offer to begin with, and listened to the conversation continuing around him. Cord had most of the questions, going over the treatment plan Doc Hamm had laid out. They also talked about specialists, both who their dad had seen and who he might need to go to in the future, as well as the right approach to take as things progressed. And as Jaden stood there listening, being grateful he hadn’t yet lost his dad, he realized that tears had been rolling down his cheeks.
He looked over at Dani, now held tight at her husband’s side and who had her own set of tracks marking a path from her eyes, and she reached out a hand to Jaden. He didn’t take her hand, though. Instead, he stepped to her other side, and he let her wrap her arm around him. He needed his big sister in that moment, and he wasn’t ashamed to admit it.
Chapter Twenty-Three
Arsula settled down in the rocker with baby Arsula Victoria Moretti the following Friday, as amazed now as she’d been right after the tiny beauty had been born at what two people were capable of producing.
