“Then whose?”
Becca looked back down at the quilt, dreading the word she was about to say. “Jack.”
“Jack? Jack Wolfe?”
Becca nodded.
“But you two weren’t dating in high school.”
“No.” Becca’s voice was low. “It happened at a party after graduation. Just that once. But once was all it took”
Her mother tugged at Becca’s arm to make her turn and face her. “Why didn’t you say anything? And leave town? Jack would have done right by you.”
Becca looked her mom straight in the eye. “That’s why I didn’t tell anyone. Because his parents would have pressured him to marry me, and then he would have been stuck here in St. Caroline. He was all set to go to Cornell and then to law school …”
“He could have gone to Talbot College.”
She shot her mom a withering look. “You know that’s not the same, mom. He got into the Ivy League. If he had stayed here, he wouldn’t have become a lawyer.” He didn’t become a lawyer anyway. She ignored that little voice.
“Well then maybe he should have kept his pants zipped up.”
“It was as much my fault as his. We both made a mistake. But I took care of things. I had the baby in Ohio and arranged for the adoption—”
“You did all that by yourself?”
“Yes, I found a woman who wanted to adopt. She’s a single mom with a good career. It was an open adoption. She’s been a good mother, better than I could have been as an eighteen-year-old.”
“I don’t doubt that, sweetheart. But for you not to even tell us about it … I assume Jack likewise didn’t tell Angie and Tim?”
Becca closed her eyes. “He doesn’t know.”
“What do you mean? Doesn’t know … about the baby? At all?”
Becca shook her head. “Shari—Shari Weber, that’s the woman who adopted her—she found a friend to claim paternity. No one checked beyond that.”
Her mother sucked in a sharp breath.
“I know it was wrong! Okay? I know that.” Becca picked up the needle and began rocking it through the quilt again, searching for calm—or maybe wisdom or a time machine—in the stitches. A time machine would be helpful. The shop was dead silent. If she dropped the needle on the floor at that moment, they’d hear it clear as a bell. “But what were my choices? Ruin his life?”
“I wouldn’t say that his life would have—”
“Mom, we weren’t even dating! You said that yourself. If we had gotten married, we’d be divorced by now. We’d hate each other’s guts.”
“You don’t know that—”
“Oh come on, mom. If he’d had to give up going to Cornell and law school to marry me, he would absolutely hate me by now.” Instead of asking me out. Instead of making my body feel things no one else ever has.
Michelle stood up from the quilting frame and walked across the room. “You could have made the decision to adopt together.”
“And what if that ended up not being the decision that got made? You and dad are close friends with the Wolfes. Their son gets your daughter pregnant, and they’re not going to push for him to, as you put it, do right by me?”
“And so you’re thinking about this now because you’re dating Jack.”
“I’m not sure you can say we’re dating, exactly. I mean, he is planning to go back to California.” To his job not being an attorney. “But there is more to it than that.”
Michelle waited for her to elaborate. Becca took a deep breath and dropped the other shoe.
“Shari called me the other day. She was diagnosed with breast cancer a few years ago. And it has come back, and her prognosis is not … good. She’s asked me to take Jacqueline—Jackie—back.” She let this sink in with her mother for a moment. “She’s a single mom, as I mentioned, and her parents are too old to raise a grandchild. They’re worried they might not be around until she finishes high school. Shari has a cousin and some friends she could ask to be Jackie’s guardian, but she would rather I adopt her back.”
“And how much contact have you had with this little girl?”
“None since she was born. I’m friends with Shari on Facebook, but other than that … I didn’t want to be lurking in the background of their lives all the time.” She reached the end of the thread, knotted it, and popped the knot through to the batting inside. “And it was too hard for me.”
“Oh Becs. I wish you had told us. You didn’t have to do all that by yourself.”
“I caused you enough trouble when I was younger.”
“You just weren’t as good at not getting caught as your sisters were.” Michelle picked up the spool of thread and threaded a needle for herself. “So do you think this is a good idea? Adopting her back?”
Becca drew in a long, deep breath. “I don’t know. I haven’t decided yet. Shari and her parents are bringing Jackie to visit.”
“Either way you have to tell Jack, you know. Let him decide what he wants to do, as well.”
“I know.”
But she could already guess what Jack would do. He’d never want to see her again—which was exactly where they would be right now if she had kept their baby in the first place. And he would leave St. Caroline again—because he had options, options Becca had given him seven years ago. Even now, it was still hard to see any other path than the one she had taken.
“Jack, can you stop by the house on your way home? Check on your mom?” His father looked up from his desk as Jack leaned in to say goodbye, his shift over. It was nearly nine o’clock, the fading light outside the station’s open bays soon to be just a shadow behind the day.
“Sure.”
He heard the low, tortured keening the instant he opened the front door to his parents’ house. He rushed up the stairs to find his mother rocking back and forth on the bed, her legs kicking weakly to free themselves from the tangled sheets.
“Mom! Are you okay?” He tried to unwind the sheets from her thin legs, his arms dodging each kick of her feet. “Are you in pain?”
That elicited a slightly louder moan, and he jabbed his hand into the pocket of his shorts to get his phone. He dialed 9-1-1, then went back to unwinding the sheets. The wait for the ambulance was interminable, his sense of helplessness intensifying with each passing minute. Where are they? Summer traffic could get heavy in St. Caroline, between summer residents and day trippers coming for the shops and restaurants. Make the lights all green. You could do that, you know?
He held his mother’s hand. She had been thin and frail looking when he arrived home at the end of May. Now it was July and she was even thinner. Weaker.
“Mom, how are you doing?”
But she was slipping in and out of lucidness. He heard car doors slam downstairs. He knew the EMTs would just come right in; they knew this was Chief Wolfe’s house and that his wife was ill.
“Up here!” he called to them. Footsteps pounded on the stairs. Seconds later, his parents’ bedroom lit up with activity as the EMTs attended to his mother. Jack stepped back to make way for the stretcher.
“Mom, we’re taking you to the hospital, okay?”
Her eyelids fluttered weakly. He wasn’t sure whether his words had registered or not. Something vibrated against the palm of his hand, and he was surprised to discover that he was still holding his phone. He tapped on the screen to read the message from his father: Heard the call. Meet you at the hospital.
Jack followed the EMTs as they carefully carried the stretcher and his mother down the stairs.
“I’ll follow behind in my car,” he told her as they slid the stretcher into the back of the ambulance. “Dad’s on his way.” But her eyes remained closed. If she heard him, she gave no indication.
Not today! Jack turned the key in the ignition and his SUV roared to life. He realized his mouth was open. Had he just shouted that out loud? Not today! Yeah, he just did. He watched as the ambulance crossed the intersection ahead, right before the traffic light turned yellow. He slammed on
the brakes. Oh come on! He fumed as the taillights of the ambulance disappeared from view. I want to be there when they take her in! Maybe his father would get there first. Cut us a break here!
Yelling at God was earning him a one-way ticket to hell, he was sure. But hey, upgrade me to first class at least!
He saw his father’s car pull into the hospital parking lot just behind the ambulance. Thank you! His father had no doubt driven like a bat out of hell to get here that fast. It wasn’t like the police were going to pull him over for speeding. Jack parked and sprinted to the hospital’s emergency entrance. Inside, he looked around but the EMTs and his father were nowhere to be seen. He collapsed into an uncomfortable chair in the waiting area, along with all the other worried people, and proceeded to stare intently at the scuffed linoleum floor.
Why? Can you at least tell me that? What did I do? I’ve never committed a crime. Not even so much as a speeding ticket. Okay, a few parking tickets in San Francisco but parking sucks there. I’ve never cheated on a test, ripped someone off, shoplifted. Yeah, I got my brothers in trouble a few times when we were kids but they repaid the favor many times over. I’ve always been a gentleman around women. I hold doors, pull out chairs, respect that no means no. Okay, so not many women have said no to me. But if they did, I would respect it! Yeah, I hear you. I wasn’t a gentleman that time with Becca. But she didn’t say no! This is way out of proportion for that!
The hospital’s public address system crackled and a barely-intelligible voice came on. Jack didn’t bother paying attention. I hate the smell of this place, too. And the way the house smells. Nice if you could do something about that. Just if you have the time, you know. If it’s not too much trouble.
He felt his father’s hand settle on his shoulder. He would always recognize his father’s touch, just like he would always remember his mother’s. Some things are just imprinted on you. Like family.
“Hey son.” His father sat down on the chair next to him. “Why don’t you head home and get some rest?”
Jack nodded numbly. He vaguely remembered that he was dead tired. “Do you need anything before I go? Coffee or something to eat?”
“Coffee would be great. Two creams and a sugar?”
‘You got it.”
Jack trudged the halls of the hospital toward the cafeteria. He hoped it was still open this late. He wondered why hospitals always felt so empty even though they were always filled with people. He wished he could go back to the day he ran into Becca here, the day he had carried the fundraising quilt for her. That seemed like eons ago.
He liked Becca. Liked her a lot. Too much. In less than two months, everything here held memories of her. The swamp, Oliver’s boat, the Blue Crab, Skipjack’s, Secret Beach. He’d been going to those places his entire life and now he couldn’t think of them without her in the picture. He’d never be able to go to the fireman’s carnival without thinking about their ferris wheel ride together. Hell, he might not be able to get on any ferris wheel anywhere with anyone and not think of her.
Even this damn hospital made him think of her.
And now every night, he had to pull out the sleeper sofa in Matt’s cabin, the very sofa where he had kissed the everloving hell out of her. Where would things have ended up if he hadn’t been paged for a call? For a backyard fire pit that was out by the time he got there. Homeowners finally found their fire extinguisher in their garage.
He walked up to the cafeteria counter and ordered two coffees for his dad.
“Cream and sugar?” the woman behind the counter asked, unsmiling. Not that Jack faulted her for that. What was there to smile about in a place like this? Maybe over in the maternity wing, people were surely happy. But nowhere else.
If you really cared about any of us, there wouldn’t even be a need for hospitals.
“Four creams, two sugars. Thanks.”
He paid for the coffee and trudged back to the waiting room. He swore he could feel the weight of his heart banging against his ribs with every step. Where’s the hospital wing for broken hearts? Eh? Jack’s was so broken, he couldn’t bring himself to even care whether it ever healed. There were only two things that made him forget about the pain. Going on a call for the fire department.
And Becca.
When he got back to the waiting area, his father was deep in conversation with a white-jacketed doctor who looked barely older than Matt. Jack was too far away to hear what they were saying, but the expression on his father’s face said it all. The miracle he’d been begging God for—threatening God over, even—wasn’t happening. From across the room, he could see his father’s chest heaving with the deep breaths he was taking to keep himself calm.
Why was he even entertaining the idea of falling for Becca Trevor—when all this was going to be over soon? His days in St. Caroline this summer were numbered. Leading her on wasn’t fair to her. Nor was his own heart in any kind of shape to withstand it.
But ten minutes later, sitting in his car in the dark hospital parking lot, all he wanted to do was drive straight to the Trevor house and let her wrap herself around him. Beg her—if need be—to wrap herself around him, hold him, pick up the pieces of his heart.
Chapter 25
“How is Jack’s mother doing?” Mike set a case of bottled beers on top of the bar. It was half past eleven, Skipjack’s closing time. Becca was helping Mike clean up and prep for the next day. There was a large wedding scheduled for the day after tomorrow at the Inn, and they expected the restaurant to be busy as guests began arriving. She opened the flaps of the box and began handing bottles to Mike for him to restock the bar’s refrigerator.
“Not good. Her condition was downgraded.”
“Oh.” After a pause, he said it again. “Oh.”
What else was there to say, really? There were no words to fix the unfixable.
“How’s Jack taking it?” Mike added.
The clinking of one glass bottle against another filled the empty restaurant.
“I don’t know. It’s been a few days since I heard from him. My parents have been over to the hospital to see Mrs. Wolfe. They said the entire family is there pretty much around the clock.”
“Do you know how much time …”
“A few weeks is what the doctor said, apparently.”
Mike took in a long, deep breath. “I wouldn’t know what to do if that were my wife.”
Just then, the fire alarm began blaring and the emergency light on the wall flashed red.
“You’ve got to be kidding me,” Mike said. “We were almost done here too.”
“Let me finish these up while you shut down the computer. It’s probably nothing.”
“It never is. Like that kid who pulled the alarm in the locker room.”
They closed up and headed out just as the fire trucks pulled in. Becca watched as Jack hopped down from one and followed the rest of the firefighters inside. He wasn’t at the hospital tonight, apparently. Maybe the reason she hadn’t heard from him was partly because he didn’t want to see her again. He was friend-zoning her. That was for the best, anyway. It would make telling him about the baby easier, too, if their emotions were less involved.
Still, she did need to talk to him. Even though this was a terrible time for him, it would be worse if he were to just see Jacqueline Michelle—Jackie—without any warning. Shari wanted to make the trip to St. Caroline next week so she had next to no time to spare.
Jack spotted her as soon as he came out of the building. He jogged toward her, his fire helmet dangling from his hand, his blonde hair dark with sweat.
“Hey there,” he said.
Why does he have to be so insanely hot?
“What happened?” She nodded toward the inn.
“Guest was smoking in bed and fell asleep.”
“Are they okay?”
An ambulance pulled into the inn’s driveway. “Guess not,” she added.
“The guy has some burns on his arm. Could have been a lot worse.”
She shuddered at the thought of herself asleep while the quilt shop was on fire around her.
“Sorry I haven’t called,” he said. “I’ve been …”
“I know.” She touched his arm. “I’m sorry.”
He took a deep breath. “It’s what we were expecting.”
“Doesn’t make it easier.”
“No. It doesn’t.”
Someone called Jack’s name and he held up his arm as if to say, “wait.”
“My shift is up. Do you want to go get something to eat? I just have to swing by the station and put my gear away.”
“It’s late.”
“The Burger Barn is open until two in the summer.”
“True.” She didn’t want to eat there, though. She needed to talk to Jack in private and this might be her only chance for awhile. “How about if I stop by there on my way home and you meet me at the house?”
“Sounds like a plan.” He leaned in and dropped a quick kiss on her lips. “I’ll give you a better one after I clean up,” he whispered.
Doubtful, she thought as she watched him jog back to the waiting engine and climb inside. Not after what I have to tell you. He waved to her as the truck pulled away.
Forty-five minutes later, they were sitting side by side on the back patio of her parents’ house, eating burgers and fries. It was nearly one o’clock. Her parents had long since gone to bed. The lights on the patio were off but even in the scattered light leaking out from the kitchen window, she could see how exhausted Jack looked. If only she could put off this conversation to another day … but who knew when she would have Jack alone like this again? She had to maintain her resolve. You screwed all this up. You have to fix it.
Then he threw a monkey wrench into her plans. An exploding monkey wrench.
She felt his fingers trace the curve of her cheek, and it felt so good. So damn good that she never wanted it to stop. She wanted those fingers tracing lines and drawing pictures all over her body.
“I’m falling for you, Becca. You know that.”
Hearts on Fire Page 20
