Since We Fell

by Ann Gimpel

  “Park. Park,” Timmy echoed and turned to Lupe winding a hand into her skirts. “Picnic.”

  Brice raised his eyebrows, and Lupe laughed. “I make snacks and drinks. I get and put in car.”

  “Great!” Brice picked Timmy up. “Looks like we won’t starve. Ready to roll, little man?”

  “I am.” Timmy tilted his chin at a jaunty angle, and Brice carried him to the car intent on strapping him into the passenger seat.

  “Wait!” Lupe dragged a child safety seat onto the porch. “Need this.”

  Brice set Timmy down. “Wait right here.”

  The boy’s eyes widened as he took in the sleek car. He ran his fingertips over the shiny paint. While he was absorbed, Brice fetched the car seat. Lupe followed him, a wicker picnic basket dangling from one hand. He was examining the safety seat to determine how to hook the seat belt through it when Lupe pushed between him and the open car door.

  “Let me, Doc. Seat go in back.”

  “Lucky you’re here,” he said. “Otherwise I’d have been forced to resort to You Tube.”

  “We both lucky,” she said and straightened. “All ready. Watch.” Scooping up the boy, she placed him in the seat and showed Brice how the straps clicked into place.

  “Home in a couple hours,” he told her.

  “Where other doctor?” she asked.

  “At the hospital. Don’t worry about dinner for him.”

  Lupe kissed Timmy and shut the back door. “Have wonderful time,” she said and walked back into the house.

  Brice got in and started the car. Timmy made vroom-vroom noises from the backseat. “Louder,” he urged. “You’re helping, and the car likes it.”

  Chapter Fourteen

  Juliana and her parents had moved to one of the sheltered smoking alcoves beneath an overhang. Her father pulled out the pipe he allowed himself on special occasions and tamped tobacco into it.

  “So happy for Sarah,” her mother was saying. She’d voiced some iteration of the words at least a dozen times.

  “We were quite emphatic she was making a mistake when she told him to go away,” Chris broke in, also repeating himself.

  “How come you never told me?” Julie asked.

  Ariel skewered her with a maternal glare. “You wouldn’t have liked us sharing private items from your life with your sister, would you?”

  “Uh, no. I guess not.”

  “We’ve waited a long time for you girls to settle down,” her father said.

  “No kidding,” Ariel muttered. “First, we waited for you to finish school.”

  “Yes, and after that, we waited while you made tenure younger and faster than anyone on record,” her father cut in.

  “When was that?” her mother piped up. “Half a dozen years ago?”

  “Stop.” Julie held up one hand, palm facing out. “I don’t tell you two how to live your lives.”

  “Of course not,” Chris said, logic dripping from his words. “We’re your parents.”

  “Which means we have carte blanche to offer unwanted advice.” Ariel turned a toothy grin her way.

  “Did Brice tell you his mother will be here for Christmas?” Chris’s question was like grinding salt in the open wound her heart had turned into.

  “No reason for him to tell me,” she mumbled, “but Mother did.”

  “Yup, in a text. Well, we’re excited to see her again,” Ariel said.

  “Even better, she finally met someone,” Chris tossed out. “A Marine doctor with a teenaged son.”

  “Susan is more excited than I’ve heard her in years,” Ariel trilled. “She lost Brice’s dad almost twenty years ago.”

  “We’re happy for her,” Chris chimed in.

  “She says the boy reminds her a lot of Brice at that age.” Ariel’s smile widened.

  “What happened to his mother?” Julie asked, wondering if a divorced Marine was a good marital prospect. The service either made or broke marriages, without much middle ground.

  “It’s very sad,” Ariel replied.

  “Yes. She died from cancer a few months before her widowed husband and son were transferred to the base where Sue teaches.” Chris got his two cents’ worth in.

  A light went off in Julie’s mind, its flare bright enough to sear her corneas if it had been real. “Explains why the boy reminds her of Brice. They both lost a parent.”

  “Exactly.” Her father clapped her on the back. “Anyway, she and her fiancé and soon-to-be stepson will be staying with Brice. Ariel and I will be spending Christmas Eve with them, and we’re hoping you’ll join us.”

  “We’d love to have Sarah there too. Angus says he’s certain she’ll be out of the hospital by then, but she’ll still be regaining her strength,” Ariel added.

  “You do know Dr. MacDuff is bunking with Brice?” Her father quirked a silver brow her way.

  “Which means it’s a logical place for Sarah once she’s discharged,” Ariel went on.

  Julie’s stomach twisted into a knot of tension. It was tough to stay put, but her father’s hand was still resting on her shoulder. Heavy. Determined. It made fleeing out of the question, which was probably why he’d put it there in the first place.

  “I should go back to Egypt,” she mumbled.

  “On Christmas?” Censure ran beneath her father’s question.

  “Not just Christmas, but the first one you’ll have spent with your family in forever.” Ariel ladled parental guilt into the equation.

  Julie shut her eyes to buy herself time to think. Her folks hadn’t ganged up on her since she was in high school, but apparently all bets were off. She blinked a few times and looked from one of them to the other. Love shone from their eyes. They wanted the best for her, and from their perspective “the best” included a husband and children. Not a lonely life camped in a tent at dig sites.

  With his unfailing daddy radar, Chris tightened his grip on her shoulder. “I gave a big chunk of my soul to the Marines. Your mother did too, but we always had each other for balance. We’d pull one another back when we got in too deep. So deep, we might not have had an easy time living in a world where the Marines weren’t everything.”

  “You saw it growing up.” Her mother apparently couldn’t remain silent any longer. “All those failed Marine marriages where one or both partners couldn’t compete with the siren call of danger and adventure.”

  “I haven’t forgotten,” Julie answered. “In truth, it was the first thing that popped into my mind when you said Susan’s new love was in the service and raising a boy by himself. I assumed he’d gotten divorced and wondered if he’d make her a good husband.”

  “Do you remember Brice’s father?” Chris asked.

  “Not very well,” she admitted.

  “He was a stellar human being,” Chris said. “He loved his family, flying, and the Marines in that order. And he never, never got his priorities mixed up.”

  “It was such a sad day when we received news of his death,” Ariel murmured. “I stayed strong for Susan, but it took all my years in the military not to break down at his funeral.”

  Chris caught Julie’s gaze and held it. “You’ll be at Brice’s on Christmas Eve?”

  “Please? For Susan. She’ll be delighted to see you again. You were always one of her favorite pupils. She told me over and over she wasn’t surprised by how far you’ve risen.” Ariel joined the stare-down.

  “It might be uncomfortable.” Julie swallowed hard. “Brice isn’t overly fond of me, and I don’t blame him.”

  “Have you tried sitting down? Talking with him?” Chris asked, adding, “We know what happened. It’s another of those things we never brought up. For obvious reasons.”

  “Yes, but we kept hoping the two of you would find your way back to each other,” her mother said.

  Julie shook her head. “The time for me to have done that was fifteen years ago.”

  “Those types of discussions don’t have a season.” Her mother offered an encouraging smile.
>
  “Tell him you’re sorry,” Chris urged.

  “I just did that.”

  “And?” Ariel leaned toward her.

  “He said he’d forgiven me a long time ago, but that what I did wasn’t justified, and he doesn’t trust me.”

  “Perfect!” Ariel clapped her hands together.

  Julie shook her shoulder out from under her father’s iron grip. “Huh? How the hell is that perfect? I don’t get it.”

  “He’s being honest about how he feels,” her mother replied.

  “Yes, and if he didn’t care about you, he’d have simply said he’s forgiven you and it’s all water under the bridge. If he’s still viewing you in terms of your trustworthiness quotient, he hasn’t given up—or moved on. Trust me on that. I’m a man, and we know these things.”

  Hope swept through her, but she pushed it to a distant place, one where it wouldn’t get in the way. “Brice aside, there’s another problem. I really may have to return to Egypt.”

  “Eventually, sure,” Ariel said. “But why in the next handspan of days?”

  “The other professor on site is claiming my find as his.”

  Chris drew his brows into a thick, concerned line. “Can’t you square it away after the first of the year?”

  “Normally, yes. One of my grad students got hold of me, frantic. Her dissertation research hinges on this dig site. The other professor, Orestes Conom, had already called in National Geographic to send a photographer to document ‘his’ monumental find. When Katie, my student, protested, he told her she’d have to come up with another dissertation topic because one of his students would be taking this one.”

  “You have connections at National Geographic,” her mother spoke up.

  Julie twisted her mouth into a crooked grin. “You two are how I learned to stand up for myself and fight back. I do indeed have NG connections, and I’ve already talked with them. Further, I rousted the head of the archaeology department to alert him we had problems.”

  Her father made a sour face. “That stuffy old Brit. Smithwick, wasn’t it?”

  “The same. He’s a sexist ass who blew me off. Said I’d earned my chops and to stand aside so Orestes could do the same. He didn’t seem to get it that Orestes hadn’t earned the right to stake a claim to any of the dig, let along the lower level.” She sucked in a tight breath. “I told Smithwick I’d already spoken with National Geographic and filed a complaint with the university ethics committee.”

  “That’s my girl.” Chris’s eyes shone with approval.

  “We’ll see,” Julie retorted. “I haven’t heard from anyone recently. Not my grad student, and not Smithwick. But if the shit hits the fan, I will have to catch the first plane I can—actually a series of them—to return to the dig site. Orestes is a bully, but he’s afraid of me. Only reason he’s doing this is because I’m not there.”

  “You let me know,” her father said. “I can put you on a military plane. You’ll get there faster. Much faster.”

  She grinned. “For a minute there, I was expecting you to say you’d fly me yourself.”

  He grinned back. “I let my certification for the big stuff go after I retired, but I still piddle around in the smaller twin engine jobs and jets.”

  “Egypt aside, you do need to talk with Brice,” her mother said.

  “What about letting the man lead?” Julie countered. “I reached out to him; he responded and kind of kicked the door shut in my face.”

  “What do you want?” Ariel answered with a question of her own.

  “I don’t know,” Julie replied. “Some days, I want what he and I used to have. Others, I recognize we’re different than we were as college undergrads. Really different. We’ll have to figure out who we are today and forge new ways of being together.”

  “You have history,” her mother insisted.

  “Common ground,” her dad chimed in. “It’s worth a lot. Kind of a souls-singing-to-each-other maneuver.”

  “Why, darling.” Ariel gazed fondly at her husband. “What a fanciful, romantic thing to say. Other than the word maneuver, that is.”

  “I try.” He scooted next to her and draped an arm around her shoulders.

  Julie stood. “I’m going to stop by Sarah’s room, and then I’m going home. See you both tomorrow.”

  “Same time, same location, soldier,” her father quipped as if he were issuing orders.

  “I love you guys.”

  “We love you too,” Ariel said. “We try not to be intrusive, but we decided Brice was the man for you long ago.”

  “You got lucky,” her father said.

  “Yeah? How’s that?” It was impossible not to excuse her father for damn near anything. He was so forthright and sincere, and he meant well.

  “For whatever reason, you have another shot at this.”

  “Don’t blow it,” Ariel tossed in.

  “Geez. Don’t know if I can take the pressure.” She stooped to kiss her dad on the cheek, her mom on the forehead, and then shouldered her bags and walked back inside.

  She was well on her way to the ICU before she realized her dad had loaded his pipe but never lit it. Either the conversation had distracted him, or the pipe had provided a convenient prop to move her to a location more conducive to private conversation.

  Her dad was nothing if not a shrewd tactician, so anything was possible.

  She entered the ICU and set her things near the door. Erika nodded pleasantly, and Julie gowned up to see her sister. Once she got close to the room, she saw the Scottish doctor sitting on the edge of Sarah’s bed, holding her hand.

  Who was this Angus MacDuff? Why hadn’t Sarah ever mentioned him? She’d had years to talk with Julie but chose not to. Why? More importantly, clearly the doctor had known about her sister for eleven years, give or take. Why show up now? She’d had brushes with death before. What was it about this one that flagged his attention?

  “Are you planning to go inside?” Erika’s voice next to her made her jump. “Sorry, didn’t mean to startle you.”

  “Yeah, I am. I was thinking.”

  “About what?” Erika’s question was commonplace yet held worlds of significance.

  Julie shrugged. “Lots of things. Sarah never told me about him.”

  “Maybe it hurt too much to talk about.”

  The words hit Julie like a fist to her midsection. She understood things being so painful you did your damnedest to distance yourself. She also appreciated that the technique didn’t work worth a crap.

  “Maybe so,” Julie murmured and reached for the sliding door.

  Erika wrapped a hand around her arm. “He’s a talented healer. I’ve worked with him on patient care over our telemedicine network.”

  “If he weren’t, my sister wouldn’t let him within ten feet of her. She’s always had a sixth sense about things like that. You know she’s a nurse, right?”

  Erika nodded. “Yes, I do know. If the last few days are any indication, she’ll be back to work before long—presuming she wants to go.”

  Julie walked into Sarah’s cubicle. “Hey there. I wanted to stop in before I left for home.”

  Angus stood and angled his head her way. “I was just going to see to our dinner arrangements. Bet you’d like a word with your sister without my mangy presence hanging about.”

  Maybe it was the words. Maybe the brogue, but Julie broke into a hearty laugh. “I think I’m going to like you.”

  “Excellent. Because I plan to be a permanent fixture.”

  “Permanent is relative.” Sarah tried for a sober note but didn’t quite manage it.

  “Not in my case, it’s not,” he retorted and aimed his next words at Julie. “Lovely to see you again. Looking forward to getting to know you better.”

  “Me too,” Julie answered automatically, surprised she meant the words. Usually, it took her years to warm to anyone.

  “Back soon, darling.” Angus waved and left Sarah’s room.

  Julie stared at her twin, n
ot sure where to start.

  Sarah saved her the trouble. “I never told you about Angus for two reasons. The first was I was really, really sick. It was the first time I expected to die. By the time I clawed my way back, I was in such sorry shape, I was convinced sending him away had been right thing.”

  She stopped long enough to take a breath. Julie listened for the characteristic rattle. It was there, but not as pronounced. “Go on,” she urged.

  “Getting there.” Sarah took another breath. “Damn, but breathing is finally getting easier. Anyway, what man would want to saddle himself with an invalid? Angus called. He wrote. I ignored him. Eventually, he gave up.”

  “I’m still not getting why he wasn’t worthy of a mention. Even in passing. You know. Something like, ‘I met this guy. Really liked him, but it didn’t work out.’”

  “It was easier if I didn’t talk about him. When I did, I thought about him and second guessed myself. Mom and Dad nagged me half to death until I told them to let me be. Then they quit, but I still saw questions in their eyes. And disappointment.”

  Julie rolled her eyes. “Oh my yes. I just got the full court press from them both.”

  “About Brice?”

  “Uh-huh. Back to you. How’s this going to work? Will you be moving to Scotland?”

  “He’s actually based in Paris, but no. I’m not moving. He is. I guess we’ll move into my cottage. Or maybe he’ll buy something over here on the East Side. Closer to Overlake and all. He’s signed on with their staff, and he and Brice are like the medical Bobbsey Twins.”

  “You have tenants in the cottage for another six months,” Julie pointed out.

  “The immediate plan is to move into Brice’s house. I guess it’s enormous. Angus says no one will even notice us there.”

  Julie winced. “Crap. It’s like I’m on a turnpike where every exit leads to Brice, and I can’t pick an alternate route.”

  “Maybe you’re exactly where you’re supposed to be.” Sarah smiled benignly. The smile of a woman who’d stopped fighting her fate, of a woman thrilled to be reunited with the man she’d loved and left.

  “I bet Brice doesn’t see it that way,” Julie muttered. Sarah opened her mouth, but Julie shook her head. “I’ll work it out. The folks already wrested a commitment for Christmas Eve out of me. Susan McKinnon will be there.”