Hearts on Fire

by Julia Gabriel

  “I didn’t choose this timing, Jack. If it were up to me, I would wave a magic wand and Shari would be healthy. She would continue to be Jackie’s mom. But that’s not the way things are working out.”

  He reached out his arms. “Give me that. I’ll take it up to her.”

  She frowned at him. “You don’t trust me?”

  He paused. Obviously, the answer to that question was “no.”

  Becca didn’t wait for that answer. “I did what I did so you wouldn’t get stuck in St. Caroline. So you could go to law school and get a big fancy job and have the wonderful life everyone thought you deserved. I did it for you.”

  She shoved the quilt into his arms and turned on her heel. Ten feet later, she spun back around.

  “And now here you are, in St. Caroline anyway,” she yelled from across the hospital’s driveway. “You dropped out of law school. There’s no big fancy job, no wonderful life.”

  “What does that have to do with—”

  “I moved away from my family for nothing! I’ve been lying to everyone for years for nothing! I gave up my daughter for nothing!”

  Becca turned and headed back to her car, this time for good. Jack turned in the other direction, only to see his father standing in the open doorway of the hospital. His father’s eyes dropped from Jack’s face to the quilt in his arms, and then back up to his face.

  “Care to share what that was about?”

  Jack sighed. “I might as well tell you both upstairs. If you think mom can handle it.”

  “She’ll probably handle it better than it appears you are. And if she’s going to hear about this from someone, I’d rather it be you.”

  His father’s voice was thick with disappointment. Jack had promised not to add to his mother’s worries. On the other hand, his father did tell him that she wanted everyone to come clean about things. No, mom, I’m not gay but ...

  They walked toward the bank of elevators, and Jack shifted the quilt into one arm so he could press the call button.

  “I feel like I’m ten years old right now and being marched to the kitchen to discuss my behavior.”

  “More or less.”

  His father clapped a hand on his back, square between Jack’s shoulder blades. Inside the wall, the elevator groaned and creaked as it made its way down to them.

  “You’re probably going to say that I’m acting like I’m ten years old.”

  “Nah. You seem to have come to that conclusion already on your own.” The elevator door opened and Tim stepped inside, holding the door for Jack. “That was always what discussions in the kitchen were about. Getting you boys to see your own behavior. Mattie and Oliver were never quite as good at that as you were.” He sighed. “Even though they had more practice than you did. Especially Matt.”

  “Matt had way more practice. Not a skill he ever did develop.”

  “Oh, I think Mattie sees his own behavior now. He just doesn’t give a good damn.”

  The elevator doors closed and Jack felt that moment of weightlessness as the car began to lift them. When they reached the fourth floor, the car shuddered to a stop and they waited for what felt to Jack like an hour before the doors opened. He blinked hard as he stepped into the harsh, bright light of the hospital corridor. Jack immediately turned in the direction of his mother’s room, but his father’s hand halted him.

  “Son, you were always a smart kid. Three steps ahead of your brothers. Your mom and I tried to protect those differences for you, so you wouldn’t feel pressured to do what your brothers did.”

  They stepped aside to make way for a nurse pushing a man in a wheelchair.

  “Instead, I felt pressured to do what you and mom wanted me to do.” Jack watched the wheelchair disappear into a room.

  “I see that now.”

  “And Becca evidently felt that she would be pressured to do what you and mom would have wanted me to do. And now everything’s a huge mess. Not that it’s your fault, dad. I understand that parents do what they think is best at the time. You probably had to wing it more with me than with Mattie and Oliver.”

  Tim started to walk slowly down the hall and Jack fell into step next to him.

  “Honestly, Jack? When it came to you, I deferred to your mom’s wishes. Maybe that was a mistake.”

  “Please don’t tell me it was just because she loved me too much.” Jack didn’t want to hear that hoary cliché.

  “She loves all of us too much.”

  They were nearing his mother’s room.

  “I did try it your way,” Jack said. “I went to law school. I stuck it out for two years. But I hated it from the beginning. I can’t stand being cooped up inside all day. And I need the instant gratification of helping someone immediately.”

  The door to his mother’s room was open halfway. They stopped a few feet outside.

  “Well, I always have a use for a smart firefighter. With your mother’s blessing, of course.” His father laid his arm across Jack’s shoulders. “Not that Mattie isn’t smart.”

  “Or smart ass,” Jack replied.

  Their laughter announced their presence as Tim pushed the door all the way open. Jack’s mother looked tired, as she always did these days, but happy to see them.

  “What’s the joke?”

  “The question of whether Mattie is smart or just smart ass,” Tim answered.

  “I’m not wading into that,” she said. “I think all my boys are geniuses, handsome, and fine men all around.”

  Her eyes lit on Jack’s face, but it was his father’s look that burned straight through his skin. He set the quilt on the foot of the bed, then leaned over and kissed her cool skin.

  “About that, mom … I have something to tell you.”

  Behind him, his father cleared his throat.

  “Several things, actually.”

  His father picked up one of the metal and vinyl visitor’s chairs and carried it over to Jack. Yeah, that was a good idea—sitting down so he was at his mother’s eye level. His father leaned over her and tucked in her blanket, adjusted the white pillows beneath her head. Today, she wore a bright red and yellow scarf printed with flowers. The scarf was happy and cheery, two emotions no one in this room could lay claim to—though his mother was certainly pretending.

  Jack tried to collect his thoughts. Which of the several things he needed to own up to should he start with? Dropping out of law school? Joining the St. Caroline fire department? Getting the daughter of one of his mother’s closest friends pregnant? Or should he start with a blanket admission of lying to everyone for several years?

  Finally, it was his mother who spoke first. “How’s Becca?”

  “Good. I brought the quilt for you to see.”

  “Bring it up here. Let me see it.”

  He moved the quilt to her lap.

  “Tim, can you—?”

  His father moved immediately to help her sit up a little higher. “Good?”

  Jack couldn’t picture his father alone in the house, without the woman he’d spent his life with. Jack couldn’t picture life for any of them without her in it. Take me instead. He helped his mother unfold the wedding quilt and watched as she ran her bony, spotted hands over the fabric. Her fingers traced the tiny stitches Becca had spent hours putting in. Like he could ever use this quilt now, not with what had happened. No way could he ever give it to his bride. How to explain that? Here’s my wedding quilt, made by my mother and the girl I carelessly knocked up when I was eighteen. He wasn’t that great a catch to begin with.

  “She did a nice job,” his mother said quietly. She looked up and smiled at him. “Nicer than what I was able to do for Oliver and Matt. Don’t tell your brothers though.”

  He doubted his brothers cared, although Serena did use Oliver’s wedding quilt in a guest room. Jack couldn’t imagine even using his that way. It would always remind him of Becca. Quilting, in general, reminded him of the Trevor family.

  He helped her fold the quilt back up.

  �
�Michelle said you and Becca aren’t seeing each other anymore.”

  His heart seized up at the thought of what else Michelle Trevor might have told her.

  “Yeah. I mean, well … we weren’t really seeing each other to begin with. Just hanging out.”

  She rolled her eyes at him. “You’re staying with Mattie. I’m surprised he hasn’t taught you how to prevaricate better than that.”

  He took a deep breath and dived in. “Mom, I’ve been prevaricating about a lot of things.”

  “You’re not working in the legal department at your company,” she said matter of factly.

  Jack knew he had just failed entirely at keeping the surprise from his face. “Who told you—”

  “There’s an employee directory on their web site. You’re listed under security.”

  “That’s true. I dropped out of law school last year. I’m not a lawyer. I’m a security guard.” He took another deep breath. He needed the oxygen before dropping the final bomb. “And a firefighter.”

  Her gaze left Jack and fell on her husband. “Where?” she asked, still not looking at Jack.

  “In California. And here. Dad put me on at the station. They’re short-staffed.”

  He couldn’t take his eyes off her face. She was struggling to stay calm and she made no effort to hide it from him or his father.”

  “I’m sorry, mom.”

  “You’re a Wolfe.” Her eyes returned to him. “For better or for worse.” She took a long, raspy breath. “Well, if you’re going to do it, I’d rather it be here with your dad and brothers.”

  Her words were equal parts acceptance and resignation, and he knew that working for his father was not much comfort to her. Tim Wolfe hadn’t been able to save her twin brother—and his best friend. It wasn’t a given that he would be able to save his sons either.

  “I’m a good firefighter,” Jack said quietly, then added, “better than Mattie.”

  That broke the tension in the room and brought a smile to her lips again. “I guess the real threat to your safety is the two of you living together.”

  “I promise not to kill him. Unless I absolutely have to.”

  “Jackie—” She gestured at the plastic tumbler of water on the hospital stand. He picked it up and held it to her lips. “Thank you. So why did you and Becca break up?”

  “Becca got pregnant.”

  There was a look of alarm on his mother’s face. “She is? Well, why would you break up?”

  “Not is. Was. When we were teenagers.”

  His father sucked in a sharp breath.

  “You two weren’t even dating …”

  “It happened at a party after graduation. Just that once and … once was all it took.”

  “Oh Jackie.”

  The disappointment in her voice made him feel ten years old.

  “Why are we just now learning about this?” she asked.

  “I just learned about it a few days ago. That’s why she left St. Caroline after high school. She moved to Ohio and had the baby there.”

  His mother frowned. “I can’t believe Michelle never said anything to me.”

  “I’m going out on a limb here and guessing that Michelle and Dan didn’t know either,” his father said. He looked at Jack for confirmation.

  “No, they didn’t,” Jack confirmed it. “She didn’t tell anyone. She went to Ohio and gave the baby up for adoption.”

  His mother flinched and he knew what she was thinking. Grandchild.

  “Why would she do that? We would have made you marry her.”

  “That’s why she did it, mom. So I wouldn’t have to marry her. Fate worse than death, apparently.”

  A low rumbling sound came from his father’s throat. A quick glance at him told Jack that his father had just made the connection to the conversation he’d overheard downstairs.

  “Why are we learning about this now then?” his father asked.

  If you’re going to take me, now would be a good time. Just saying.

  “The woman who adopted her—”

  “Her?” his father said.

  “Yes, it’s a girl. Jacqueline.” He paused a moment to let that bit of information sink in. Then he continued before his parents had the time to consider the other implications—in a family of boys, there was finally a girl. And no one knew about it. “The woman—her mother—is ill.” Damn. He didn’t know how to say this. And you’re making me do this in the freaking hospital!

  “Oh, sweetheart.” His mother understood without him having to spell it out.

  Thank you! Finally, a little help!

  “She needs a guardian. She wants Becca to do that. To adopt her back.”

  “And is Becca going to do that?”

  “She said she hasn’t decided yet.”

  Chapter 27

  Becca leaned on the bar and sipped at the glass of ice water Mike had poured for her.

  “Nervous?” Mike asked.

  She nodded. “A little.” She looked over at the round table in the corner. Five chairs surrounded it, a shiny mylar balloon tied to one. “Okay, a lot.”

  Becca wasn’t working that day. Instead, she was waiting for the Webers to show up—Shari, Shari’s parents, and Jacqueline. Her daughter. She was still getting used to thinking that. They flew into Washington, DC, the day before and were on their way to St. Caroline now. Their arrival was expected any minute. Shari had texted her several times with updates.

  Leaving DC.

  Crossing the Bay Bridge.

  Ten minutes out, I think.

  “You’ll be fine,” Mike reassured her.

  It wasn’t really herself she was worried about. But what if Jackie didn’t like her? What if Shari’s parents didn’t? Or—worst of all—what if Shari didn’t? After all, it had been years since Becca and Shari had seen each other. She might see Becca as unsuitable and change her mind about wanting Becca to adopt Jackie. Her parents and the Wolfes had done their best to keep the situation quiet but word was still getting around St. Caroline. Can’t keep a secret for long in a small town. Not that she cared about what people thought. It was hard for her reputation to get much worse at this point. (She went after Jack Wolfe? And now she’s trying again? The girl has balls, you gotta say that.) But the last thing Shari needed right now was to have to persuade a friend or cousin to spend the next eleven years raising Jackie.

  Her parents had gone to the hospital to talk to Angie and Tim, who weren’t angry the way Becca had expected. Becca had sent her apologies via her mother, but she was reluctant to go to the hospital herself. Much as she wanted to speak to Jack’s mother in person, she didn’t want to run into him again. He must be furious about people in town knowing he was the father.

  Becca took another sip of water to calm her nerves. Their argument at the hospital was the last time they had spoken. Nor had she even seen him around town. That didn’t surprise her though—all of the Wolfes were practically living at the hospital when they weren’t at the station.

  Inside her purse, her phone buzzed. She took a deep breath, knowing it was from Shari.

  Just dropped off rental car with valet. Checking in. Be there in a few.

  “They’re here,” she said to Mike.

  He patted her on the arm. “Don’t worry. You’re going to get the best service Skipjack’s has ever offered. Just be yourself.”

  Just be myself. That’s what had gotten her into this situation in the first place.

  She walked over to the corner table and pulled out a chair across from the one with the balloon. When she looked up, they were there—standing at the hostess station, Shari in a long-sleeved blouse and skirt, a patterned scarf covering her head and knotted stylishly at the nape of her neck. Her parents, Robert and Alice Weber, looked like any other well-heeled guests of the Chesapeake Inn. Robert was dressed in seersucker Bermuda shorts, a yellow golf shirt, and leather-trimmed boat shoes. Alice wore a pale blue sleeveless dress and open-toed flat sandals, her silver hair short and chic.

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nbsp; Then there was Jacqueline, who coolly took in her surroundings, surveying the other tables, the bar with its smiling bartender, the black and white photographs on the wall. Lastly, her gaze landed on Becca. Becca gave her a smile, and hoped it looked more confident and at ease than she felt. The girl’s cheeks quirked up in a quick smile and then she turned back to the Webers.

  That was her daughter. Right there. My daughter. She couldn’t believe it. It was hard to reconcile this tall young girl with the infant she had last seen in person in an Ohio hospital. She had hoped the memories of that day would fade, but they hadn’t. She still vividly remembered being wheeled into the operating room for the c-section, Shari in a gown and mask walking next to her. She remembered the bright lights stinging her eyes and the blue screen blocking her view. Then a baby’s hiccupped cry and a nurse handing a swaddled bundle to Shari. And the most unforgettable thing of all—the expression of utter joy and wonder on Shari’s face, and her tearful “thank you” to Becca, who lay exhausted on the operating table and feeling suddenly more alone than she ever thought possible.

  Now here was that baby again—only now she was seven years old and tall for her age. Her blonde hair was pulled back in a French braid and her arms and shoulders glowed tan in a sleeveless halter-style sundress. Her long legs ended in beaded flip flops on her feet. She looked like Jack … and all of Becca’s sisters. That was a good thing, Becca thought. Jackie would fit into her families here. No one would be able to look at her and immediately pinpoint her as the “new one,” the way Becca had always felt in town.

  Kylie, the hostess, smiled warmly at the Webers. Becca was glad that most of the other diners in the restaurant today were guests at the Inn and not locals. Only a few people glanced up at the Webers as Kylie led them toward Becca. Mrs. Weber walked slowly, leaning on her husband. Shari had mentioned that her mother fell and broke a hip a year ago. She could see why the Webers might not feel comfortable raising a young child.

  When they reached the table, Shari wrapped her arms around Becca as though they were long lost friends. After the momentary surprise of that wore off, Becca hugged her back, feeling the boniness of Shari’s ribs beneath her arms.