Calamity Jena

by Janet Elizabeth Henderson

  “It’s happened, hasn’t it?”

  “Aye.” Her sob broke free, the sound ripping through his soul. “He got a post-op infection.” She couldn’t say any more, but the words were there—his dad hadn’t recovered from it.

  “Have you called the twins?”

  “Not yet.” Her voice broke. Matt felt tears well in his eyes. He blinked them away. There were things to do. He didn’t have time to get upset. He had to be practical.

  “I’ll do it. I’ll get them. We’ll be there soon. Hold tight, okay?”

  He hung up and stood in the middle of the room unable to move. It had happened. The day he’d known was coming for eight years. And yet it was still a shock. How was that possible? Part of him wished for one more day, while another part of him knew it was long overdue. So fast. It had been so fast in the end. A broken bone. An infection his body didn’t have the strength to fight. Matt didn’t think it would happen like this. He scrunched his eyes tight against the pain. There was a lot to do. He had to remember there was a lot to do. His family needed him to be strong. To stand for them. To help them get through. There would be time for feelings later. Much later—if he could face them.

  “Matt?” Jena’s soft, hesitant voice made him open his eyes.

  She looked at him questioningly as she walked towards him. He’d put her into bed naked, but she was dressed in her yellow pyjamas now. Her hair was a sexy, tousled mess and there were dark circles under her eyes. She ran her hand up his chest.

  “I heard the phone.” She wrapped her arms around him.

  He fought to get the words past his throat. The words part of him didn’t even believe. Words he would have to say to his sisters. His breath hitched at the thought. It’s fine. It’s all fine.

  “I need to go to Fort William,” he said at last.

  “Okay, honey.”

  He became aware he was clenching his phone tight enough to break it. He let it fall to the kitchen table as he wrapped his arms around Jena. He could take a minute before he spoke to the twins. He just needed a minute. A second for the news to sink in. For his brain to reboot.

  He buried his face in Jena’s hair and breathed deeply. “Dad died.” The words barely made it out of his mouth.

  “I figured.”

  She kept holding him as the shock of it eased. It had happened. The man who defined him was gone. Matt felt a numbness creep over him.

  Jena stroked his back in an easy rhythm. The feel of it comforting him. She was so much stronger than she thought she was. So much more courageous than she knew. And he needed that strength now.

  He needed her.

  But he couldn’t put her through the hospital visit. His mum would want privacy. He knew Jena would understand. “I’ll go on my own, but when I get back…”

  “I’ll be here. Whatever you need. Don’t worry about it, okay?”

  “Okay.” He held her tight.

  And in that moment, he knew he never wanted to let her go.

  The twins clung to each other and sobbed all the way to Fort William. They found their mother waiting in the family room off the intensive care unit. She was sitting in the corner, staring into space. She had a stunned, lost appearance. A tiny woman, alone not only physically in the large, bright room, but now emotionally too. The twins ran to her, almost crushing her in their embrace, and the three of them cried together.

  Their sobs tore at Matt. He swallowed hard at the sight, turned on his heels and went to speak to the staff. It didn’t take long to pick up his father’s meagre belongings and a copy of the death certificate. For a long time he stood in the hallway outside the family room, staring at the piece of paper that told him his dad was gone. It didn’t seem real. None of it seemed real. Before he even realised what he was doing, he pulled out his phone and dialled Jena.

  “Hey, honey, how you holding up?” she said as soon as she answered.

  The sound of her voice made something settle deep inside Matt. This was a new thing for him—to have someone in his corner. Someone who gave him their strength and support. “I’m doing okay. I just picked up the death certificate.” He took a deep breath. “They asked if we wanted to see him—he’s been taken down to the morgue—but I said no. We’d talked about it in the car and none of us need to do that.”

  “There’s nothing wrong with that. You do what is best for you, not what other people think you should do.”

  Her words cut right to the heart of his guilt. He’d been wondering what it said about him that he didn’t want to see his father’s body. But it was only a body now, right? His soul was gone. He was gone. He pinched the bridge of his nose.

  “I wish I’d brought you with me,” he said.

  “Oh, honey.”

  Matt cleared his throat and stood straight. “I need to go. The twins and Mum are distraught. I need to get them home.”

  “Yeah, you do. Call me when you get back. I’ll come over with food. Although I don’t expect anyone feels like eating.”

  “I need to call the cousins too. Mum hasn’t told anyone but us.”

  “How about I call Magenta and get her to deal with it? She can tell Harry and he can tell everyone else.”

  He felt his shoulders sag with relief. “That would be great.” He’d told plenty of people over the years when their loved ones had died. This was different. Harder. He wasn’t ashamed to admit he needed the help.

  “He’ll understand. We all understand,” Jena said.

  He closed his eyes as tears threatened. He needed this. Touching base with Jena. Keeping himself sane. He needed her.

  “I meant what I said, princess,” he said. “I love you and I’m keeping you.”

  “Yeah, we’ll talk about that later, you Neanderthal.” There was a smile in her voice, though. It gave him hope.

  They said their goodbyes as he pushed the door open to the family room. His eyes hit Claire and he knew he had to say something. He knew it was time to let her go. To let them go. His mum was right. He’d been holding on to his role as their pseudo-parent for far too long. He felt his chest clench as he crouched down in front of Claire. He put his hand on her cheek and almost felt overwhelmed by the love he had for his sisters. Claire gave him a questioning look.

  “Grunt.” Matt swallowed hard. “If he’s the one, don’t let him go. He’s a decent guy. He meant well. He’s crazy about you. Give him another chance.”

  Her bottom lip trembled as she threw herself into his arms. He hugged her hard as his mother smiled at him through her tears.

  “I’ll still kill him if he hurts you,” he told Claire.

  “I know,” she whispered. “I’m glad.”

  “Always, kiddo—I’ll always be there for you and Megan.”

  His other sister tackled him with a hug. Matt fought to hold back his tears. At least one of them had to be in a fit state to drive, and by the looks of it, the job fell on him.

  Not that he’d have it any other way.

  34

  The sad news about Matt’s dad made Jena think about her mom. There was something she needed to do, something she’d been putting off, and the time to do it was now. Jena dressed in her favourite jeans and Snoopy sweatshirt, and cycled to town on the old bike she’d bought second hand. She stopped off to speak to Dougal first, apologised profusely and promised payment for damages. To her surprise, Dougal refused the offer of money.

  “You’ve got enough on your plate, lassie,” he said. “How about we just agree you won’t go dancing on any more of my furniture?”

  “I promise.” Jena held a hand over her chest to prove how much she meant it.

  Dougal seemed suitably impressed by her sincerity.

  “And how about you don’t bring any more dates into the pub? It’s costing me a fortune.”

  Her face flushed as she tucked her wild hair behind her ear. “I promised Matt I wouldn’t date for a while.” She shuffled her red embroidered wedges on the carpet. “He seems to think we’re in a relationship and doesn’t want me
to say yes to any more men.”

  Dougal barked out a loud laugh. “You make sure you call as soon as there’s even a hint at a wedding. I’ve got a whole betting pool running on this.”

  She narrowed her eyes at him. “Come on, Dougal, you’ve got to stop people betting on me. It’s not on.”

  He shook his head as he folded his arms over his yellow shirt and green tartan waistcoat. “Now go, Jena love. I’ll absorb the costs of your misadventures, but I’m keeping the betting going. It brings in business.”

  She frowned at him, but she couldn’t very well argue the point. She’d seen the state of the bar—there was a lot of damaged furniture, and she had no money to repair, or replace, any of it.

  “Fine, keep betting, but if you’re running a pool on my wedding, I want to put ten pounds on never.”

  “No problem. I’ll get right on that.” Dougal walked away from her, still laughing and muttering about her making a fool’s bet.

  Jena growled in his direction before stomping up the stairs to the hotel rooms above the pub. The stairs were carpeted in red tartan and the walls painted a deep green. It should have been gaudy, but it wasn’t. It was warm and expensive looking.

  Jena knocked on her mother’s door and waited. She could hear her banging around inside. Her stomach clenched, her palms tingled and her heart raced—all over talking to her mom. She shook her head. If that didn’t say something about their relationship, she didn’t know what did.

  The heavy wooden door swung open and her mother scowled at her. “Well, well, you decided to spend time with your mom. Took you long enough.”

  Jena followed her into the room. It was lovely. Decorated in creams with a red tartan accent. Classy as well as comfortable.

  Before Jena could say anything, her mom was off on a new tirade. “I can’t get a hold of Josh at all and Frank has disappeared off the face of the planet. He’s checked out, his room is empty and no one knows where he’s gone.” She faced Jena with her hands on the hips of her skinny jeans. Her white vest clung to her enhanced breasts. Her neck and wrists were decorated with copious amounts of silver and her eyes were outlined in her trademark black. “I hope you’re here to take me to the castle. I can’t stay in Scotland forever. I need to get this song to Josh and find out if he wants me to tour with him in the next few months. I have arrangements to make.”

  When her mother took a breath, Jena jumped in. “Frank was arrested for trying to kidnap me. He’s been sent back to the States.”

  Her mother blinked a couple of times before licking her lips. “I guess that means you’re it where Josh and Mitch are concerned. Let me get my jacket and you can take me to him. They won’t even let me past the gate to the castle.”

  The news of the kidnapping had about as much impact on her mother as a speck of dust would have colliding with the moon. Her mother turned away to nab the black leather jacket that was lying on the bed. Jena put her hand on her mom’s arm to stop her. She looked irritated when she turned back to Jena. She tapped her toe impatiently on the thick cream-coloured carpet.

  “What is it, Jena? I want to get out of here.”

  Jena took a deep breath. “I didn’t come here to introduce you to Josh. I came to ask you to go home.”

  Her mother sucked in a loud, dramatic breath. Her hand flattened against her chest. “You’re kicking me out of your town?”

  Jena swallowed hard. “No. I’m asking you to leave. I’m not going to introduce you to Josh or Mitch. No one is. Dougal has been sending you off on a wild goose chase, making up Josh sightings to keep you out of the way. No one in this town wants you to hassle Josh or Mitch. They belong here. They’re protected here.”

  “From crazy opportunists or fans. Not from serious musicians like me.” Her mother dismissed her with a wave and turned back to get her jacket.

  “Mom.” Jena clenched her hands tight in front of her. “You fall into the crazy opportunist camp. You’ve come all this way to force Josh to listen to your songs. You’re hunting him down like a stalker, making deals with people to get to him. It’s not going to happen. You need to go home.”

  Nastiness shone from her mother’s face. “What if I want to stay here to visit with my daughter?”

  Jena shook her head. “Yeah, we both know you don’t want to visit with me. You’ve never visited me. I left home at sixteen and you’ve never come to see me, not once. I visit you. Usually in whatever club you’re singing in. I call you, you never call me—unless you want something.” She looked up at her mother. “Let’s stop pretending. You don’t want to be around me. I think you should go home.”

  Her mother sneered. “Of course I don’t want to be around you. You’re a loser, Jena. If you didn’t have my eyes, I’d wonder where you came from. Look at you. You’ve wasted every opportunity you’ve been given, you’ve thrown away good men, let your career die and now you’re hiding in this backwater. And for what? A house that’s falling apart and a small-town cop. It’s pathetic.”

  Jena stared at her mother for a moment. All the years she’d tried to earn her love flashed before her eyes. They were wasted years. It had been a wasted effort. This woman, her mother, didn’t love anyone but herself. In fact, Jena wasn’t even sure she could see anything outside of herself and her needs. Jena knew, without a doubt, she was all but invisible to the woman.

  “Okay,” Jena said at last. “I’ve said what I came here to say. Don’t come round the house, Mom. You won’t be welcome.”

  She left her mother standing with her mouth hanging open. She closed the door gently behind her and left the way she’d come in. Feeling both lighter and heavier at the same time. Deep in her heart she knew she’d never belonged to her mother. She’d never belonged anywhere. A smile started slowly until it was so wide she was grinning. She’d never belonged anywhere until now. Now she belonged in Invertary.

  Matt was waiting for her outside the pub. He was leaning against his SUV, looking worn out.

  “I just got back,” he said. “I dropped everyone at my mum’s house. The rest of the family were already there. I told them I had to come get you.”

  Jena walked right into his arms without a second’s hesitation. “Let’s pick up some food on the way. People need to eat.”

  Matt nodded, but he didn’t stop holding her. People passed them, calling their hellos. Matt didn’t respond. He just kept his arms wrapped around Jena, in the middle of the high street on a sunny Tuesday afternoon. And it felt perfect.

  Grunt arrived at Claire’s family home exactly ten minutes after Claire had rung him asking him to come. He didn’t know why he was there. She still thought he was a criminal and a kidnapper. He couldn’t allow himself to hope that something had changed. That she was giving him a chance to prove how much he cared about her.

  He ran a nervous hand over his head before he knocked on the front door of her mother’s house. It was a nice place, well kept. A typical example of the grey stone buildings that dotted the town—the windows were large, the ceilings high and the roofs tiled with slate. It looked like a good family home. A place where Claire would have been happy. He was pleased about that.

  The door swung open and Claire was standing there. Her eyes were red and swollen. She chewed on her bottom lip as she looked up at him with big, sad eyes. It took all of his well-trained self-control not to grab her and hold on tight.

  “Baby, what’s wrong?” He felt his rage ignite under his skin. All she needed to do was point him in the right direction and he would take care of it.

  “Dad.” The tears streamed down her face as her throat closed on the words.

  She didn’t need to say anything else. He knew. He felt her pain. All of it.

  “He’s gone, baby?”

  She nodded, a sob erupting from her mouth. She wiped her eyes with the palms of her hands. Grunt was desperate to touch her. Desperate. Torture would have been better than suffering the distance between them when Claire needed him.

  “I…” She looked away.
>
  Grunt swallowed a growl. How as he supposed to act? What was he supposed to say? He was about ten seconds away from falling to his knees and begging her to let him love her. To let him take care of her, in any way she’d allow. Her eyes swung back up to his, glassy with tears.

  “I need you, Samuel,” she whispered, her lips trembling with each word.

  Grunt closed the distance between them in record time. He lifted her right off her feet and cradled her to his chest. “You’ve got me, baby. You’ve always got me.”

  He held her while she sobbed. Never in his life had he felt as grateful as he did in that moment. Grateful for the chance to be Claire’s rock. To hold her hand. To dry her tears. To keep her close.

  “It’s going to be okay, baby. I promise.”

  Over her shoulder he spotted Matt coming up the path, holding Jena’s hand. Grunt’s muscles tensed in readiness for whatever was coming. Matt stared at them for a minute, then gave Grunt a tight-lipped nod, clearly signalling approval. Grunt was still reeling when Matt closed the door behind them.

  “I’ll explain everything when you want me to. You only have to ask,” Grunt said against Claire’s soft blonde hair.

  She shook her head. “Matt told me everything already.”

  Well, hell. He lowered himself to sitting. And right there, on the Donaldson doorstep, in the bright Scottish sun, he held his woman and gave her a safe place to grieve.

  35

  The funeral took place three days later on a warm Friday morning.

  The Presbyterian church was filled to capacity as people came from all over to attend. Jena could have sworn the whole town was there to support the Donaldsons. The old building had been decorated with bunches of blue and white flowers. Someone played soft piano music. People were quiet.

  Heather sat in the front row, flanked by the twins. Grunt sat beside Claire, sombre in his black form-fitting suit. Jena sat beside Megan, holding her hand while Matt walked to the front of the church. He was so handsome in his black suit, pristine white shirt and black tie. It made Jena’s heart ache to see the sadness in his eyes.