Snowflake Bay

by Donna Kauffman

  “She was trying to spare me. And, I think, she was privately hoping she was wrong, and that there was some other reason, maybe, for the things she was seeing.”

  “Were you mad that she didn’t confide in you?”

  “Oh yeah. And then I felt guilty as hell about that, too. Not that I told her that I was upset, but I’m sure she knew I was anyway. She even apologized, which pissed me off all over again.” He blew out a sigh. “It was a complicated time. We did our best to just be there for Dad and for each other, but I won’t lie and say we didn’t have our moments.”

  “Something like that would never be simple or smooth. And I’m sure your dad wasn’t making it any easier on either of you. He must have been so scared.”

  “Still is,” Ben said quietly. “And yes, that is the hardest part. I mean, my dad could be the most stubborn, frustrating person on the planet, but he was like a rock when it came to being there for his family. So . . . yeah, it’s a little terrifying to think of him as anything but being in complete control, of himself and everything around him.”

  “Do you worry that your mom won’t keep you truly informed about his progress? Or the progress of the disease?”

  “No, not now, I don’t. We have a solemn pact. And she made sure we were both co-executors of my dad’s estate and personal well being, so we’ll both be involved in seeing he has the best care as time goes on. My mom knows I’m there no matter what.”

  Fiona found a smile for him. “I think that’s a really good thing. I’m glad your dad has both of you. When will you see them again?”

  “I’m thinking of going down and surprising them on Christmas Day. Though I’ll probably have to tell my mom in advance, just to make sure it won’t upset anything with my dad. I don’t think it will at this point, but better safe and all that. The tree stands and the cut-your-own at the farm all close on Christmas Eve. I was originally planning to head back down to Portsmouth and use the holiday and weekend after to catch up on things there, but . . .” He let the sentence trail off.

  “Christmas is a time for family. And you want to be with yours while you can, while it’s good. No one is more aware of that at the moment than I am.”

  He reached over and took her hand then, and held it in his for as long as he could until he needed to put both hands back on the wheel. She was surprised, she guessed, by the level of comfort there could be in such a simple gesture. She hated what was happening with his parents, both of whom she considered to be extended family, even if her contact with them in recent years had been reduced to seeing them at holiday time when she was home from the city. But, at the same time, she was grateful for any conversation that could distract her from her own troubles. Neither she nor Ben could do anything more than they were doing, so maybe talking about it was good for him, too. She hoped so.

  She was holding his phone in her other hand and started when it vibrated. She looked down and read Logan’s reply: Are you close?

  A feeling of absolute dread and out-and-out fear went straight down her spine, and this time, the tears did rush to her eyes. She had to blink several times to see what she was texting back to him. “Yes,” she said out loud as she typed. “We’re almost there.”

  “What is it?” Ben asked as he glanced from the road to her, then back to the road. “What did he say?”

  “He asked if we were close.” Her breath caught on the sob she was trying to keep in her throat.

  “Come here,” he said. “There’s a seat belt in the middle.”

  “But you need to—”

  “I need you right here. We’re almost there, and now that we’re in a bigger town, the roads aren’t as bad. Come on. Huddle up.”

  She didn’t need to be asked twice. She couldn’t recall ever being this scared. She’d only been three when her parents had died, and any real memory of that time was mixed up with all the stories she’d heard over the years. Her grandfather had been ill for some months before he passed, and so there had been time to adjust, and it had been a blessing when his time came, as it relieved him of suffering. The realization that she might never speak to Fergus again, never hear him laugh, never get one of his bear hugs, which were pretty much the best hugs in existence, caught at her throat.

  Ben kept both hands on the wheel, and Fiona did as he’d asked. She huddled next to him, and just the feeling of his sturdy, solid frame bracketing hers helped to get her emotions back under control.

  “Hold on,” he said, and she grabbed his thigh as they bumped over a plowed berm of snow and up into the hospital parking lot. “I’m going to drop you off at the emergency room door and go park.”

  “You don’t have to stay. I didn’t mean for you to drive in the storm, either, I was just—I don’t expect—”

  He leaned down and quieted her with a kiss. It was gentle, but solid all at the same time. “I’ll park and come in. I won’t get in your way, but I’d feel better if—”

  “Thank you,” she said, hearing the thickness in the words, knowing the emotion clogging her throat now was both her fear about Fergus and her gratitude for his solid, unwavering support. “I would, too.”

  He pulled in under the covered entranceway and idled there. “You’ll feel better when you see him,” he told her.

  “I hope so.” She undid her seat belt, then realized she was still holding his phone. “Oh, here. Thank you. I’m just—I don’t know where he is, so—”

  “Go,” he said, taking the phone. “I’ll find you.”

  She leaned up and kissed him. “I’m glad you’re here,” she said thickly, then scooted across the bench seat and let herself out of the truck, sliding carefully until her feet hit the salted, slushy pavement.

  He waited until she was inside, through the oversized sliding glass doors, before pulling back out into the storm in search of a parking space.

  She hurried inside to where they were checking in patients who’d come voluntarily into the emergency room. She needed to get to her family, she needed to see Fergus with her own two eyes, needed to stop thinking of all the worst case scenarios and start dealing with whatever the reality of the situation was going to be.

  But she’d be lying if she said she wasn’t relieved and grateful to have Ben there, too. Their time spent in the kitchen, both entangled and just talking, had created a unity between them, like a private bond. And after the call, he’d been there for her, too, solid, supportive, unwavering. Such a short time to feel the strength of him the way she did at the moment. In other ways, a culmination of a lifetime spent in and out of each other’s orbit.

  Her family would all support each other, as they always did, but each one of them was grappling with his or her own fears and concerns. So it was a comfort to have someone who was at least one step apart from all the worry, who was just there for her to lean on. It was pretty wonderful to think how nice it would be to always have him there, and not just during the crisis times.

  Hannah pushed through a swinging door down the hall just then and rushed toward her. “Fiona! Oh thank God.”

  Fiona ran forward and the two of them hugged. Family was pretty good to have in a crisis, too. “How is he?”

  They separated just enough to look at each other, but held on to each other’s arms. “He’s still out of it. They did get him to come to, but he didn’t react too well to that, so they’ve sedated him so they can run some tests. They’re fairly certain it was a stroke. It’s just a matter of determining what all it’s done to him.”

  “But . . . he’s okay. I mean, he’s not going to die.”

  “I—we don’t know, Fi. I mean, they can’t say for sure. If there’s an aneurysm, then he might not be out of the woods. Or—I think about Thaddeus, and well—”

  Fiona hugged her again. “I know, I know. I’m so sorry you have to go through this after all that happened with Calder’s dad.”

  “They’re running tests. We can’t see him at the moment. Everyone is in the ICU waiting area.”

  “He’s in intens
ive care?” Fiona really wished her heart would stop pounding so hard so she could listen, could think, could process. “Never mind, of course he is.”

  “Come on, you’ll feel better when you’re with everyone.”

  She started to let Hannah basically drag her down the hall, then stopped. “Wait, wait. Ben is parking his truck. I should stay here so he can find me. Is it—can he come back?”

  “Logan will make it happen,” Hannah said. “Sometimes having the police chief for a brother does come in handy.”

  Fiona just nodded, but her thoughts were still a scattered jumble.

  “What were you doing all the way out in Snowflake Bay with the storm coming?”

  “Ask our police chief brother about that.”

  Hannah frowned, then shook it off, clearly just as distracted by the more immediate events as she was. “I’m glad Ben’s here.”

  That got Fiona’s attention. “You are? I mean, I am, too. More than I ever thought I’d be.”

  “Yes, of course I’m glad. Calder is here with me and Alex is here with Logan. Kerry is climbing the walls and driving everyone bonkers. Ben will help to smooth her out. He’s good with her.”

  Fiona stilled for a moment. “Yes. Yes, I suppose he is. He’s good with all of us.”

  Hannah’s expression turned considering, which Fiona noted as she tried to shove all those thoughts to the side. Now was not the time to discuss the continuing changes in her lifelong relationship with Ben Campbell.

  “Uncle Gus is as stubborn as they come,” she said, as much to Hannah as to bolster her own confidence. “No way is he going to let this knock him back.”

  “You’re right. You are. I just . . . we’re all going to have to be there for him, Fi. We have no idea what kind of hurdles he might have to face, and the same stubbornness that will get him through this might make him a holy terror with doctors and nurses.”

  Fiona swallowed hard, and inwardly groaned, because Hannah knew that better than anyone, and she was exactly right about Fergus on both counts. “We will be, he knows that. And you know, if Kerry wants to beat herself up for what happened, than she can appoint herself chief rehab marshal and commander of the troops. If anyone can get him back on track, it will be her.” Fi looked at Hannah, who was wiping tears from the corners of her eyes. “And not just because she feels guilty, but because it’s what needs doing. Kerry might not be much for longevity, but one thing she’s not afraid of is hard work. And she’s just as stubborn as he is. She won’t leave as long as he needs her.”

  “I was thinking the same thing. I hope so. This is the longest she’s been home since she took off at eighteen to see the world. I keep thinking any day now I’ll get up and she’ll be gone again.” She smiled and sniffled. “I mean, she’s a total pain in the ass, but I’ve kind of gotten used to having her around again. You, too,” she said, tears leaking again. “I like us all being home.”

  Fiona pulled her into a tight hug. “I do, too.” She finally let go and they both sniffled, then smiled wryly at their blubbering selves. “She won’t go anywhere now. I figured she was here for the holidays at least, anyway. And the wedding.” Fiona’s mouth formed an O. “Oh crap, Hannah. The wedding!”

  “I know, I know. Calder and I already agreed to postpone it.”

  “You have? Maybe—don’t be so rash about that.”

  Hannah raised both eyebrows in disbelief. “Weren’t you the one all but setting up a PowerPoint presentation on the reasons we should wait until summer? I figured you’d be the first to champion that plan.”

  “I would, but—I mean, I guess we’ll need to see what kind of recovery he’s looking at, and I know Christmas might be way too short a time frame if it’s bad, but, don’t you think maybe having the wedding day as a goal will be a good thing for him? Motivate him? I mean, he’s walking you down the aisle.”

  They both fell silent at that, and Fiona knew Hannah was thinking the same thing she was. It had been almost seven months since Thaddeus had had his stroke and he was still struggling to recover from the brain surgery that had come after, the removal of the tumor that had caused it. They didn’t know what had happened with Fergus yet. Much less when or if he’d be walking anyone anywhere. “Okay, okay, let’s not get ahead of ourselves. Let’s just focus on the here and now, find out what exactly has happened to him. Then we can make plans. Don’t announce anything yet, okay?”

  Hannah nodded, then looked like she was about to crumple again, and Hannah wasn’t a crumpler. Fiona squeezed both of her sister’s arms. “Go back to the waiting room, go be with Calder. Let Logan handle Kerry for now. Ben will be in momentarily and you’re right, he can help there.”

  She nodded, sniffled, and dug out a tissue. “Okay.” She forced a smile through the still welling tears. “I’m glad you’re here, Fi. I know I’m the oldest of the sisters, but you’re always the one who ends up holding us together. I love you.”

  “I love you right back,” she said, touched by her older sister’s heartfelt words, but needing to stay the strong one. To that end, she forcibly turned Hannah around. “Go, before I’m blubbering with you.”

  The door had just swung closed behind Hannah’s retreating form when, from behind her, Ben said, “She okay? How’s everyone holding up?”

  Fi turned to see him striding toward her. All tall and rugged and dusted with snow. He was solid, loyal, and unapologetically pursuing a relationship with her. An intimate relationship. With her. Fireplug Fi.

  And she’d never wanted to be caught more than she did in that moment.

  You are in so much trouble right now, Fiona Mary Margaret McCrae.

  But boy, her little voice added, as trouble goes . . . he sure looks like the best kind to get into, doesn’t he?

  Chapter Sixteen

  As it turned out, Ben did have Thanksgiving with the McCrae family, only it was held mostly in the hospital cafeteria and at Fergus’s bedside. Gus had been moved out of intensive care, but he was still being kept sedated, so he wasn’t an active participant. Kerry insisted that he’d feel the holiday vibe and family togetherness and know they were there with him. Ben didn’t know if that was true, but he figured it sure couldn’t hurt.

  Dinner was over, however, and he was now headed back out to Snowflake Bay. He’d gone by and checked on the Cove tree lot first since he was there, saving Jim the trouble, and had already spoken with Jim regarding the status of the other two. It looked like the storm had ended early enough that there wouldn’t be any delay in opening the following morning. After a supremely uncomfortable night spent dozing in one of the waiting room chairs, he was happy he’d get at least one night at home in his own bed before the chaos that was the official Christmas tree season began the following morning.

  That said, he’d have given up a good night’s sleep in a blink if Fiona was in the truck with him, headed back to Snowflake Bay, and the very big, very warm bed that awaited him there.

  The county crews were already clearing the main roads and parking lots. Snow in winter was no surprise in New England, so the region was well prepared to deal with the aftermath of its arrival. He’d left Fiona at the hospital, though, because the roads were still in no shape for her little Prius. Logan had taken up what was clearly an ongoing argument with Fiona on her need to get a more rugged vehicle now that she was living back in Maine. Ben had offered to let her use one of the farm trucks in the interim, which had been met with a glare from Logan and an overly sweet thank you from Fiona, who had then turned back and stuck her tongue out at Logan. Which was when Ben had opted to back out of the conversation.

  Now that he was alone in the privacy of his truck, though, the memory made him grin. Despite the unfortunate reason for their gathering, Ben had liked being back in the throes of the McCrae family dynamic. Even when under significant stress and worry, their patterns and alliances were the same as Ben recalled from their younger years. Logan bossed his sisters around and they routinely ganged up to overrule him, or ignored him complet
ely and did as they wanted. But the moment they needed to face yet another challenge regarding Fergus’s ongoing medical evaluations, they immediately turned to him for support and leadership. Hannah was the calm center to the storm; she was good at summarizing the situation and keeping it from feeling overwhelming. Kerry was a loose cannon, worried sick over Fergus, angry at herself for not somehow miraculously preventing the stroke, and not at all afraid to do whatever it took to be sure he was getting the best possible care. Fiona was the mediator, the fence mender, and occasionally the ballbuster, when needed. Her brother might be the police chief, but in that family, she was the sheriff.

  He’d learned a great deal more about her in the past twenty-four hours of up-close and in-person observation. She appeared to have everything in hand, always on top of every detail, overseeing her family’s needs as well as Fergus’s. But he noted that that was her way of funneling her own fear and worry into something useful. Though it might be a constructive coping mechanism, it didn’t lessen the toll the situation was taking on her. He’d started out asking her if she needed coffee, or something to eat, to keep her energy up, but after she’d ignored his queries as she continued to mother hen everybody else, he’d finally just taken her by the arm and steered her to the cafeteria. She hadn’t been exactly thankful for his manhandling at first, but as the hours had worn on and what little information they were getting from the doctors slowed from a trickle to nothing, he noted she didn’t put up much of a protest.

  In the early morning hours, he’d finally gotten her to sit down long enough to lean against his shoulder, ostensibly so he could bring her up to speed on the storm situation outside and on the phone call he’d gotten from his mother. Neither of those reports had contained any new or particularly useful information. The storm had continued to rage and his mother was just checking in to see how things were going, then they’d spent the rest of the call talking about Fergus’s situation. What that closeness had done, however, was allow him to stroke Fiona’s hair, rub her shoulders a little, until he’d felt her relax into a light doze. It wasn’t the truly restorative sleep she really needed, but it was better than running on the fumes she had been on for some time.