Island Haven
Page 22
“What you’re doing for Gemma is good,” he began. “Thank you.”
“I should thank you. She’s my responsibility, not yours, and yet you took her in when she couldn’t come to me.”
“Somewhat against my will, believe me,” Scott said.
A tense silence descended on them as Scott tried to figure out what it was he wanted to say. “Been thinking a lot today as I get ready to move on to the next thing.”
“Gemma said you’re taking a job on a ship.”
“Start Monday. How’s it going with her?”
His dad waved his head slowly from side to side. “We’re doing okay, believe it or not. Took a couple of days, but we’ve aired things out.”
“Aired things out? Sounds loud.”
“Got that right. That girl has a fire in her, doesn’t she?”
“She’s got something. Fire, courage, attitude.” Scott watched two young guys working on a fishing boat as it headed back to shore for the day. “All qualities that will help her. She’s going to need all the help she can get.”
“She’s going to stay on for a while. I’m going to help her with the baby.”
Scott snapped his head toward his dad in surprise. “I’d say you’ve made some progress then.”
“Baby steps.” His dad absently took a roll of antacids out of his pants pocket and popped a tablet into his mouth. “You didn’t call me out here to chat about Gemma, did you?”
“No.” Scott hesitated. “I’ve been out here for a few hours. Thinking. Remembering. We used to have some pretty good times.”
“That we did. Should’ve written down some of the stories we made up.” He shook his head and chuckled. “We got pretty outlandish with a few. Remember the alien pirate?”
Scott cracked a grin. “With the appetite for young fishermen? I remember.” Scott studied the callus on his left index finger as if he’d never noticed it before. “I won’t pretend to understand what went on all those years ago when you met Gemma’s mom, Dad.”
His father sobered so suddenly it was as though a button had been pushed.
“I guess it’s occurred to me that I don’t need to understand it. God knows most people wouldn’t understand some of the decisions I’ve made. Things I’ve done.” He paused. “Mistakes I’ve made.”
“We all make ’em.”
Scott nodded. “I’ve been making you pay for yours for nearly eleven years. It takes a lot of energy to hang on to something like that. Seems to me that energy could be put toward something more constructive.”
His dad turned to look at him. Waited.
“I’d like to leave with us on better terms,” Scott continued. “It’s past time.”
His dad exhaled suddenly, as if he’d been holding his breath. “I’d like that, Scott. More than I can put words to. I’ll say it again, I’m sorry for all the pain I’ve caused you.”
“I’ll never agree with what you did, but it’s in the past.”
The corners of his dad’s mouth quivered emotionally. He stuck his hand out for Scott to shake. “Peace?”
“Peace.” They shook. Scott took in a long, slow breath of relief. He knew he’d done the right thing, knew Mercedes would approve. He didn’t know why that mattered to him, but it did.
“I admire you,” his dad said. “Always have. You’re more of a man than I’ll ever be.”
Scott looked into his father’s eyes and saw he meant what he said, whether Scott believed it or not. “I don’t know about that.”
“You make a guy proud. Always have. All these years, though I didn’t know a thing about what was happening in your day-to-day life, I’ve been damn proud of who you are. What you do for a living. How you stand up for your principles.”
“Maybe if we’d been in touch, you wouldn’t be so proud. I’ve handled a lot of things pretty badly.”
“Nah.” His dad leaned his elbows on the table. “All little stuff. Not important. What’s important is the man you are today. You forgave me for some pretty big stuff.” He nodded once. “You’re a good guy, in spite of your old man.”
They stood there watching the marine traffic for several more minutes without saying anything else, but the silence now was peaceful. Companionable. Scott finally understood what people meant when they said a weight had been lifted off their shoulders. He felt as though he was lighter. He drew in air and imagined there was more room inside him for it now that the resentment and the anger of years and years had been cast aside.
“So now what?” Scott asked.
“Come with me. I’ve got something to show you.”
Scott didn’t immediately respond. Go with him? “Where?”
“A surprise. You’ll see when we get there.”
“You want me to ride somewhere with you?”
“I suppose you could follow in your car, but it’d be a waste of gas.”
Scott would have preferred to drive his dad. With some trepidation he couldn’t explain, he asked, “You’ll bring me back here?”
“Whenever you’re ready.”
Scott watched him for another five seconds and finally nodded once. “Let’s go, then.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE
AS DALE PULLED INTO a hospital parking lot, Scott’s imagination took off. “Is it Gemma? Is she okay?”
His dad couldn’t hold back a smile. “She’s just fine.” He turned off the truck and opened his door. “Come on.”
Scott didn’t speak again, realizing his dad wasn’t going to answer questions. The man’s mood was anything but grave, so he didn’t figure there was cause for concern.
When they took the elevator up to the Labor and Delivery floor, he angled a look at his dad. “You said she’s okay.”
“Yep.”
“Did she have the baby?”
His dad continued walking, then paused outside a patient room. The door was closed. He knocked lightly and listened for a response. Scott was pretty sure it was Gemma’s voice that told them to come in.
Pushing the door open, his dad led him into a dimly lit room. Gemma lay at a forty-five-degree angle on the bed, the TV hanging from the ceiling showing some reality show.
“Scott?” She clicked the TV off and sat up, looking between him and their father.
“Hey,” he said, genuinely glad to see her. Even happier she hadn’t scowled or yelled at him yet. “What’s going on?”
She looked questioningly at their dad.
“I didn’t say anything,” the old man told her.
Scott dropped his gaze to her middle. “You… Did you have the baby?”
“No, I took the pillow out of my shirt.”
He glanced back at her abdomen for a second.
“Yes, I had him. Last night.”
“Where is he?” Scott asked. “Is he okay?”
“He’s…tiny. He’ll be here for a little bit, until he can learn to eat.” She swung her legs over the side of the bed. “Want to see him?”
“Of course I do.”
“He’s in the NICU but I can visit him whenever I want to.” She was careful getting up, probably sore.
He waited for her to lead the way.
“You coming, Dad?” she asked, and hearing her address him that way threw Scott for a loop. Just for a second.
“You two go. I’ll stop by to see him again before I leave for the night.” In spite of his refusal, his face beamed with grandfatherly pride.
Gemma and Scott walked side by side down the hall, in the opposite direction from where Scott and their dad had come in.
“My water broke when we were eating dinner yesterday,” she said, the hint of a grin on her face. “Dad was kind of mortified but he tried to hide it.”
“That’ll put a damper on any meal. So he took you in right away?”
“I’ve never seen an over-fifty dude move so fast. He was terrified. I was, too, but watching him kind of took my mind off things a little.”
Scott could only imagine. He’d seen his share of freaked-out men
with their wives or other family members in labor. With good reason. “Everything went okay? What time was he born?”
“In the end, everything worked out. He was born at 7:47 p.m. We got to the hospital just before seven.”
Scott whistled. “Little bugger came fast.”
“Too fast for an epidural,” Gemma said indignantly. “I’m telling you, they should make teenage girls watch an uncensored birth. Not a doubt in my mind that would cut the number of teenage pregnancies in half.”
“Pretty rough, huh?”
She looked at him in disbelief. “Rough?” She shook her head. “The first five minutes after my water broke were rough. It went downhill from there. I swear to God, no human should have to go through that without drugs.”
“But you made it. And it was just a couple of hours. For some women, labor can last for days.”
Gemma opened the door to the outer room of the intensive care nursery, smiling as she looked through the window at the babies. “I made it. And he’s awesome.”
“Back again?” one of the nurses said, addressing Gemma with a warm smile.
Gemma nodded. “This is his uncle.”
It took several seconds and seeing Gemma’s thumb indicating him for the truth of that statement to sink in. Belatedly, he nodded and forced something resembling a smile.
“Come on,” Gemma urged him, washing her hands. He joined her at the sink and scrubbed with soap. She was through the door before her hands were dry.
She transformed into a different person before his eyes as she headed for the bassinet in the far corner. She walked lighter, and not just because she no longer had a baby in her. He was pretty sure she wouldn’t be able to stop grinning if she’d tried.
“There he is,” she said in a syrupy voice. “How’s my little man doing?”
Inside the clear bassinet was a tiny little dude whose head seemed too big for his body. A lamp warmed him, but he appeared to be in good condition for a preemie, at least by sight. Gemma reached in and touched his nickel-size hand. The baby grasped her finger and Scott felt something in his world shift.
“Hey,” he said to the baby, his voice hushed. “Look at you.”
“Meet Samuel Scott Lawrence,” Gemma said proudly.
Scott blinked. Maybe twice. Looked at her to gauge her sincerity. “Samuel Scott, huh?”
She nodded, meeting his gaze.
“Is that a coincidence?”
Gemma elbowed him. “Idiot. Of course not. His middle name is in honor of his fabulous grumpy uncle.”
A smile slowly spread across Scott’s face as he let that sink in. He couldn’t think of what to say. He just stared at his miniature semi-namesake, awed as the small one stirred and opened his eyes.
“Is that okay?” Gemma asked nervously.
“Hell, yeah.”
She elbowed him again. “Small ears!”
“Sorry,” Scott whispered. “I’ll have to work on that.” He followed Gemma’s lead and gently touched Samuel’s arm with the back of his index finger. “Wow. He’s so…”
“Tiny?”
“Amazing. Congratulations, Gem. You did it.”
“Thanks.” She stared at her son, her eyes full of love. “I know you’ve always thought I’m crazy for wanting to keep him myself but…” She shook her head, overcome by emotion. “He’s mine to love.”
Scott turned his attention to her instead of Samuel. “And he’ll always love his mom.”
Nodding, she said, “If I treat him right, yes. And I’m going to treat him like a prince.”
“He’s lucky to have you.” The sentiment was genuine. During the month that Gemma had stayed with him, he’d become certain of several things, and one of them was that she’d loved that child before he was born. Though he’d never met Gemma’s mother, he was willing to bet that she wasn’t the most loving mom on the planet. Gemma seemed determined to be different. “Have you told your mom yet?”
She straightened and all joy disappeared from her face. “Dad made me call her. She’s coming tomorrow to see her grandson.”
“What if she wants you to come home with her?”
Gemma shrugged. “She can want all she wants.” She averted her gaze. “I’m going to stay with Dad. Until I’m ready to try it on my own. He seems… I don’t know. He seems like he wants to help. Like he really cares, for once.”
Scott was silent for a bit. “I think maybe he always has cared. He’s just now starting to figure out how to show it.”
“Gotta grow up sometime, I guess. Scott?”
He tore his eyes away from the squirming little guy. “Yeah?”
“I’m sorry. For being so pissed at you for calling him.”
“I only did it because—”
“Because what else could you do?” she finished. “I was more pissed at my situation, when you get down to the truth. Pissed that I was out of options.”
He nodded and squeezed her shoulder. “I get it. It’s okay. Mercedes pled your case for you and that’s pretty much what she said.”
“I talked to Mercedes a while ago.”
He didn’t want to care. Didn’t want to think about her. Not yet. Not until he was three thousand miles off the coast, settling into his new life. Then maybe he could handle it.
“She told me what happened. How you left it.”
Scott acknowledged that by raising his brows and focusing his attention on the baby’s cheek. He ran his finger lightly over it, and Samuel turned his head toward him.
“Nothing to say for yourself?” she asked quietly.
“Nothing to say.”
Still watching him, Gemma tilted her head. “I stand by my belief that it could’ve worked between you two. If you’d just… I don’t know. Tried.”
“You look exhausted. Don’t you think we should head back to your room?” he asked, straightening.
Gemma laughed halfheartedly. “I see how you are. Fine. Lucky for you, I am tired.” She turned to Samuel. “Good night, my little rock star. I’ll see you soon.” She bent down and kissed his tiny hand, an awkward feat thanks to the heat lamp. “Love you to pieces, Sammy.”
Scott again caressed the baby’s cheek. “Nice to meet you, Samuel Scott Lawrence. I have a feeling you’re a pretty lucky dude. See you later.”
As he and Gemma headed back toward her room, she asked, “When do you think you’ll be back?”
He’d made no plans to come back. Sure, he probably wouldn’t spend the rest of his life on a cruise ship, but that’s all he knew. And suddenly, in terms of her little boy, his nephew, that didn’t seem quite soon enough. At that rate, Sammy would be in high school before he saw him again. “I don’t know,” he said, “but you gave me a pretty damn compelling reason to visit.”
CHAPTER THIRTY
MERCEDES BARELY NOTICED the strange noise coming from the hallway. In truth, she hadn’t noticed much in the past twenty-four hours besides the physical ache in every cell of her body. She’d been sitting here on the couch ever since dinner, thinking she should go work on the new campaign she and Morgan Billings had discussed, but unable to convince herself to move.
When Gram burst into the living room in a motorized wheelchair, a high-pitched scream of surprise escaped from Mercedes.
Gram came to a stop a couple feet from her and chuckled.
“What in the world? Where did that come from?” Mercedes asked.
“Your sister insisted on buying it.”
“She bought that?” Mercedes jumped up and walked around the chair she and Gram had drooled over two years ago. It was the top of the line and the price tag had been several times more than their budget. “She just…bought it?”
Gram was all grins as she attempted to act as if it was too extravagant. Her satisfaction was plain to see, though. “Apparently the girl has money to burn.”
Charlie appeared in the doorway then. “I don’t know why you two didn’t mention this to me before.”
Mercedes exchanged a look with Gram. “We…di
dn’t think of it, I guess.” She checked out the controls at Gram’s fingertips. “You like it?”
Gram nodded, her eyes damp. “This will free you up.”
“It’s a little independence for Gram,” Charlie said, coming into the room. “She’ll of course still need help getting in and out of it, but she can move around the main floor by herself now.”
“I’ve never minded wheeling you anywhere, Gram. You know that, right?”
“Of course, sweetie. But this will make me feel better, not having to call you just to move.”
“That was so thoughtful of you, Charlie,” Mercedes said, and suddenly tears filled her eyes, as well. Again. She turned away, trying to hide.
She was happy for Gram, that she’d feel a little less like a burden, yes, but the tears had nothing to do with anything going on in this room. They’d been just under the surface all day, waiting to rush out at the slightest wavering of her control.
Stupid tears.
“Happy to do it,” Charlie said, as if spending so much money was no big deal. “Selena’s coming over in a while to discuss some business stuff. I need to run to the store to get a couple things. I’ll be back in a half hour.”
Her back still to her sister, Mercedes nodded. Managed to squeeze out “That’s fine” without her voice betraying her. Her head ached with the effort of hiding her tears, but poor Charlie had been subjected to her crying enough for one lifetime.
She heard Charlie kiss Gram on her way out and Gram said goodbye.
Mercedes battled the ridiculous tears. She tried to brush them away, but it was like shoveling pebbles out of the way before an avalanche. She lowered herself to the couch and covered her face helplessly.
She heard the buzz of the wheelchair and the next thing she knew, Gram’s hand rested on her leg, patting her every few seconds.
“Charlotte told me your Scott left town,” Gram said.
Mercedes could only nod for several seconds. Then she managed to clarify. “Not my Scott.”
“You fell in love.” There was no question in Gram’s words, so Mercedes didn’t reply. “Thank goodness.”