The heartbreak in his voice reached me. For a moment, I let it in. “I know,” I whispered. “I can’t imagine what you went through.” I breathed through the silence, trying to make sense of what he’d told me, but the puzzle still lacked pieces. It still didn’t make sense, even if I were to believe it. I turned to face him. “What I don’t understand is why you didn’t tell me this sooner. Why let me go on blaming you…and hating you for being such a terrible father?”
His eyes lowered; he turned his back on me and took a few steps away.
I closed in on him. “What are you not telling me?”
His face turned down; his shoulders shook.
My heart thundered in my chest—not just from seeing his pain, but from dread. A powerful sense of foreboding washed over me in that moment. “Dad! Tell me.”
“That day…” His barely audible voice trembled, and a chill ran down my spine. “Your brother…It didn’t happen exactly the way you remember it.”
My mind flashed back to that day, the image clear, even though with every fiber of my being I’d avoided any thoughts of it for so many years. I’d only spoken of it twice in my life: once with Nathan after too much to drink, and once with Daniel. “What are you saying? I jumped into that pool and tried to save my brother. When I woke up, he was lying next to me dead. I know this. God, do I wish it weren’t true, but it is, and he’s gone.” I tugged his shoulder back so he’d face me. “And all this happened because you were passed out in the backyard and not watching him! Why are you doing this to me?”
“Gray, you did try to save Noah. You were so brave. Don’t you ever forget that.”
“Then what are you saying?”
“You were in the kitchen with your brother making a racket with that project. So I went out back to take a nap before my next shift.” His eyes checked mine, and then he continued. “I told you to keep him inside because I’d be sleeping. I even had you put on that latch we’d installed when Noah started getting into things. You had to get on your tiptoes to reach it. Remember that?”
My legs grew weak as he spoke. I knew that what he said couldn’t be real. Yet somehow, something vaguely recognizable floated around his words. Like a sketch you watch created in front of your eyes. At first it was all lines, angles, curves, and shadows that didn’t make sense. Then, before your eyes, the picture became clearer and clearer. An image of me reaching up and closing over the latch popped into my mind. I hadn’t thought about that latch in…years. Yet it came to me so vividly at his reminder. I sank to the couch, staring into the nothingness to reach my memories, Dad’s voice echoing in the background.
“I dozed off, and the next thing I knew, you were shaking me awake asking where Noah was. When we separated…finding you both in that pool…that was my worst nightmare come true. I thanked God when you woke up, and I knew that I still had one of my babies. You started crying and saying over and over—”
“I opened the latch,” I whispered before turning my watery eyes to him. “I opened the latch.”
His sorrowful eyes took mine as he walked toward me. Then he sat down and put his arm around me. I could only shake my head while a flood of memories came back to me. I’d grown more frustrated with Noah’s mobility and talking. He had wanted everything and got into everything. That day I’d already been distraught over my project. Other kids had talked about doing them with their parents, but I knew I was on my own.
As the ghastly memory replayed in my head, I pushed the words past the lump in my throat. “I remember being so angry at you for not helping me. And then Noah frustrated me so much. He wouldn’t behave, and I was running out of time.” A tear dripped on my hand; I swiped at my eyes. “He spilled something, and I told him he was getting a time-out. I wasn’t thinking.” I saw my brother’s face as I shut the back door on him that day. The last image of him with wide, bright eyes before I found him facedown in the neighbor’s pool. My breath caught and became erratic. I struggled to take in air, choking on my next words. “I didn’t…know…I just wanted him to…”
Dad squeezed my shoulders, but I pulled away. “You were just a child, Gray. It wasn’t your fault.”
I jumped to my feet. “All this time…” I whispered to myself. “You didn’t even know he was there?”
Dad rubbed at his chin. “I didn’t know what was happening until you woke me. But it was an accident, Gray. A terrible, terrible accident.” His convincing words skated right past me. “When you came to after I pulled you out, you just kept saying ‘I did it, I did it.’ You were hysterical, clawing at me to get to Noah before they took him. Saying you were sorry, and that you hadn’t meant to do it.”
I ran my hands over my face, through my hair, down my neck. “…I thought it was your fault. I wanted it to be,” I cried out.
He only nodded.
We both knew that was why he’d never told me. A father sacrificing his own happiness for his daughter’s.
“Were you ever going to tell me?”
He stood and folded his arms across his chest. “I hadn’t planned to. Even after it seemed we totally lost touch. But then our sessions with Dr. Rothberg became challenging…and Becca began pressuring me.”
“She knew, too? This whole time?”
He answered with his expression.
“Did everyone know?”
“Just her and your grandma. In the hospital, they’d given you something to calm you down, and you were in and out of consciousness. You said the same things to them you’d said to me. But once we brought you home, you never spoke of it again.”
“And then I never let you bring it up.” My heart filled with both remorse and hostility.
“Now that Becca and I’ve been…close, she’s had a hard time with how you’ve seen me.”
“She’d hinted to me…made some off-hand remarks.”
Dad pulled his lips taut. He shook his head and let out a sigh. “I’m sorry. It’s been an issue with us from the start. It didn’t help things that Dr. Rothberg said you might remember on your own anyway.”
She was probably right, based on my history of both visions of Noah and the recent flashbacks. But that fact provided little comfort as my world unraveled around me with no way to stop it and no escape. “Or maybe she hasn’t changed a damn bit and wanted to see me suffer.” I paced to the kitchen to get my purse. I couldn’t handle talking about it any longer.
“You know that’s not true,” Dad said, following me.
The short reprieve my body had given me from the feelings of panic only lasted as long as it had taken to uncover the details of this unthinkable mess of my life. Now that suffocating sense of doom returned with a vengeance. I raced to the door, praying my legs wouldn’t give out from under me.
“Gray, please, don’t leave like this. Let me help you get through this.”
“I think you’ve done enough.”
“Don’t go. We could call Dr. Rothberg.”
“Great. That’ll just fix fucking everything.” I grabbed the door and yanked it open. Catching the sheer panic in Dad’s eyes, I paused and took a breath. “Just give me some space. It’s going to be fine.” The stale words echoed in my head as the biggest lie of my life. All I could think about as I walked to my car was that I’d had one good, pure person who loved me and believed in me, and I had failed him. My perfect little boy was gone, and I had been the cause. I saw his tiny body lying on the pavement as real as if it had just happened. My heart collapsed inside my chest like someone took a sledgehammer to it. One beautiful, perfect thing I’d done right in my life, and now it’s ruined.
CHAPTER 17
--------------------------
Daniel
I walked to the parking lot of Empirico’s with my sister and her husband Elliot after one too many steak fajitas. Over the years, our family’s favorite Mexican restaurant had seen many celebratory announcements, farewell dinners, and even a few displays of boisterous, drunken antics thanks to their generously boosted margaritas. The place was so
old that my father had proposed to my mother there at a small table near the kitchen, which no longer existed since their remodel. But he never let an opportunity pass to say “Did I ever tell you that right over there I snagged the hottest piece of ass in town?” Then my mother would give her best-insulted performance while fighting off a flattered smile. I had filled in for Dad on this night, doing my best imitation for Rita, hoping to cheer her up. Though it would be her husband’s last tour, she always had a hard time seeing him go. Especially with Jessie gone and the house feeling so empty. I hated thinking of her alone for extended periods of time.
Rita hooked her arm through mine as we strolled. “Thanks for coming tonight.”
“Really I only came because I thought you were sharing some news.” I glanced over her shoulder at Elliot, who fished his keys from his pocket.
“What?” She nudged my shoulder playfully. “You said you didn’t want the gory details.”
“Hey, you trying to find out if I knocked up my wife?”
We stopped at their car, and Rita planted her hands on her hips. “Don’t you think I would have said something, dear brother?”
“Well, we are at Empirico’s.”
Elliot came up behind her, looking more stocky than fit due to his baggy attire. He wrapped his arms around her waist. “Hey, man, I just wanted a kick-ass burrito before I left. But it’s not like we haven’t been working our asses off at it, though. Right, babe?”
A gleam of pride shone through Rita’s eyes that warmed my heart. He was a good man who provided, and soon he’d be around a lot more.
“Speaking of asses,” I said with a serious glare on my brother-in-law, “you get yours back here quick, got it?”
“I will.” He reached past Rita, offering me his hand.
I took it and pulled him in for a half-hug, trapping Rita in the middle.
“And take care of my girl, here,” he said.
“Goes without saying.”
After a few more lingering minutes, we parted, and I walked to my car. Just as I opened the door, my phone rang. I didn’t recognize the number, but I always tried to answer since my emergency patient line forwarded to my cell.
“Dr. Harrison.”
“Dr. Harrison. This is Henry Donovan…Gray’s dad.”
Caught off guard, it took a second to register what he’d said. “Yes, this is Dr. Harrison.” As I spoke, my mind raced, and my pulse increased. “What can I do for you?” What possible reason could he have for contacting me when we’d never spoken before? I hadn’t even realized Gray had told him about me.
“I’m sorry to bother you, but I’m concerned about Gray, and I wasn’t sure who else I could turn to.”
“Did something happen to her?”
“Could we meet? I hate to put you out, but if you have time, we—”
“Mr. Donovan,” I said loudly and abruptly. I couldn’t contain the sense of urgency building in me. “Is Gray all right?”
“I’m sorry, I just don’t know. I’m afraid that I’ve done something…”
“Look, Mr. Donovan. I appreciate that you called me, but I’m going to be blunt with you. If something’s happened to Gray, I need answers, and I need them now.” I had no intention of meeting him. “Tell me what you know, so I can see how I can help her.”
“I can’t get into specifics. It wouldn’t be right. But I told Gray something that hurt her deeply…something devastating, I’m afraid.”
My grip on the phone tightened. I wanted to reach through the line and grab him by the collar to shake the damn answers from him. Since day one, an overwhelming sense of protective fight had welled in me whenever a threat came near her. But I had to be careful in this delicate situation and keep him talking. “Where is she right now?”
“I assumed she went home. I’ve tried calling, but she’s not answering.” The desperation in his voice turned to remorse. “I guess I didn’t figure she would.”
“Is there anything else you can tell me? What she said or how she seemed when she left?”
“I wish I could tell you more. I’ll leave that to her. But she was distraught and angry…confused.”
“I have to go.”
“So, you’ll try to reach her? Will you keep me updated?”
“I’ll do my best. Right now my priority is finding her.”
I hung up, backed out of my space, and then hit the speed dial for Gray. It rang on the speaker as I pulled out of the parking lot. I planned to head to her apartment unless I reached her and found she went somewhere else. My concern for her well-being took precedence over everything else, but as the phone continued to ring unanswered, I couldn’t ignore the possibility that she had turned to Nathan. I hope to God she’s not with him.
I left a quick message, not mentioning anything specific. I only said it was important that she call me back right away. As I sped down the freeway, I convinced myself that if she hadn’t turned to him during our struggles, she probably wouldn’t now. The problem with that logic was that I had no idea what had happened. I called three more times without leaving another message.
When I arrived at the apartment, it was after ten, so I knocked softly. I didn’t want to wake Alyssa if she was asleep, but I needed to find Gray, and I wouldn’t leave without checking inside first. After my third round of knocking, Gray opened the door, a blank stare coming my way as if I were an unexpected salesman.
“What are you doing here?”
“I need to talk to you. You didn’t answer your phone.”
“I’m sorry, my ringer must be off.” She opened the door a bit wider and then glanced over her shoulder. “Alyssa’s already asleep. Can we talk tomorrow?”
I paused, watching her eyes avoid mine. She must have known I’d be able to see something terribly wrong.
I took a step forward, my hand connecting with hers. “Are you all right?”
She took her hand from mine, brushed some hair from her face. “Fine. It’s just been a long night.”
“Why don’t we take a drive, go somewhere and talk.” Everything about my words, my tone, the look in my eyes, worked together to present a non-confrontational and compassionate stance. Yet her brows knitted, and her breath grew ragged.
“Daniel, please. I just…I can’t do this right now. I’m sorry.” She backed away, edging the door slowly closed.
I put my hand up and stopped her from going any further. “Henry called me.”
Her eyes widened in surprise. “What? Why?”
Before I could figure out what to say, she spoke again.
“What did he tell you?”
“Not much of anything.”
“Then why—”
“Gray, he called because he was concerned about you. I know he told you something upsetting. Can you tell me what it was?”
“It’s nothing for you to worry about. I just really don’t want to talk. Why can’t you accept that? I don’t need to be analyzed right now.”
“Is that what you think I’d do? For God’s sake, I’m worried about you. Please, don’t shut me out.”
“I’m not, Daniel.” Then, as if she’d stepped into another body, she straightened and calmed. Her eyes connected with mine, delivering a convincing gaze as if she knew I’d be searching for the truth there. “This is me holding it together now because I have to. I have more people to consider than myself.”
“I think this is you in denial. Whatever happened tonight has you shaken. I can see it in your eyes.” I’d be lying if I said that it didn’t kill me that she was holding back. After all this time, she still couldn’t let me in without a fight.
“Daniel, please.” The words came out in a trembled whisper. Her hand on the door began to shake, and her eyes glossed over.
What the hell did he say to you? I placed my hand over hers to steady it. Our eyes locked. She shook her head, pleading with me.
“I’m sorry, Gray.” I brushed my hand over her hair and down her shoulder. “I don’t want to push you. But I can see this
is tearing you up inside, and that’s killing me. Just tell me what I can do.”
She swallowed, cleared her throat, and took in a breath. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean for you to worry. I promise you, I’ll be fine. Right now, I just need to be alone. I know you’re looking for answers, but I just can’t right now.”
It was selfish, but my frustration surfaced, and I let out a sigh. “Okay,” I said, resigned. I couldn’t help her if she remained so closed-off. It appeared we were back to square one, that first day in my office. I backed away, working to calm the hell down.
“Call me later and maybe we can talk?” she said. “Could you do that?”
The small gesture conveyed enough for the time being. “Whatever you want.” I stepped forward and pulled her into me. No matter how much she held back, she needed to feel my presence. She needed to know that the powerful connection between us meant something. I wouldn’t allow her to push me away. “I love you, Gray,” I whispered. I stroked down her hair for a moment before she pulled away.
She gave me a tight smile and a nod; then she closed the door.
I arrived home, unaware of the trip—how long it took, the roads I’d taken. My mind fixated on one thing. I took a beer from the fridge and sat on the couch with my phone resting on the arm. I pressed the home screen a dozen times to see if I’d missed a call or a text. Please, give me some sign of hope.
With the empty beer bottle in front of me and the clock closing in on midnight, my phone rang.
“Gray.” My tone sounded too desperate. “I’m glad you called,” I said, calmer, aware of the fact that I might not be able to separate my role as a doctor from this situation. Maybe Gray was experiencing the same trepidation. A brief correlation to Melissa crossed my mind. She often shut me out, feeling the watchful eye of the doctor too much to handle.
“Did I wake you?”
“No, I was waiting for your call.”
“I’m sorry.”
“Please, don’t apologize, Gray. I hoped you would call. There’s nothing I want more right now than to be there for you.”
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