“Josh! You look so much better!” cried his mother, fluttering toward him in a floppy sunhat and dark glasses.
“Of course he does. He’s got my constitution,” said Rock. He wore a baseball cap from the local feed store and a vintage Houston Oilers shirt.
“Nonsense, he looks much more like me. Everyone says so. I’m sure it’s the same genetically for the rest of him, all his inner systems and so forth.”
“Mom, can you please not talk about my systems right in front of me? It’s embarrassing.” He returned his mother’s hug, wishing he could squeeze all her hostility right out of her.
“Don’t embarrass your son, Anne, if you can help it.”
Right on time, Suzanne stepped in. She really had a knack for handling them, Josh had to admit. She offered them each a tube of sunscreen.
“Why don’t you two get lathered up on our way out to the car? The sun can really sneak up on you.”
“Josh, you aren’t coming?” His mother pulled a sad face as she took the sunscreen.
“Sorry, crutches and sailboats are not a good mix. But we’ll have dinner when you get back.”
“Just you and me, or you and…”
“Big group dinner. The more the merrier.” He’d drag the hotshots into town if he had to. Maybe Peavy would come. He’d saved the dude’s life, after all.
Suzanne shepherded his parents out the door. At the last second, she looked over her shoulder at Josh and gave him a wink. “Bye, Josh, I hope you and all your systems have fun while we’re gone.”
He gave her a “touché” salute and watched her slip out the door behind his parents. The fresh, breezy image of Suzanne in her hip-hugging pants, blue canvas sneakers, and blue-striped halter top stayed with him. Not to mention that sassy wink she left him with. Suzanne had a way of being…perfect. There really was no other word for it.
The most amazing part was that even though being trapped on a sailboat with his parents sounded like a literal nightmare—he actually wished he’d gone with them. Just so he could watch the wind flirt with Suzanne’s ponytail and the sun scatter golden freckles across her nose.
Time to face facts. He was kind of a goner for Suzanne. And he had no idea what to do about that.
Suzanne kept a constant stream of directions and chatter going until she and Josh’s parents were safely settled into the romantic two-masted sloop, That’s Amore. She pointed out the sights as they pulled away from the harbor and cruised past Stargazer Beach. The observatory perched on the hill overlooking the ocean, the imposing bulk of Jupiter Point, the rundown airstrip not far from Stargazer Beach.
Jonas, the captain and owner of That’s Amore, offered them chilled peach Bellinis, then turned his focus to steering them toward the pretty islands that lay offshore. He was an expert at ignoring what was said on these sailing expeditions.
“Now, Mr. and Mrs. Marshall,” Suzanne began.
“Oh no, sweetie,” Anne interrupted. “Please start over without using his name.”
Rock scowled, but before he could respond, Suzanne held up a hand. “Sure, let’s start over. At Stars in Your Eyes, we like every excursion to include an extended moment of silence.”
Anne and Rock exchanged looks of alarm, as if they’d never heard of the concept of silence before.
“It’s a way to let the ambiance really take hold,” she explained. “The sound of the ocean, the salty wind on your face, the slap of the water against the hull of the sailboat, these are all very soothing sounds.”
Rock curled a lip in Anne’s direction and spoke in a hoarse whisper. “She means compared to your yapping.”
“What part of ‘moment of silence’ don’t you understand?” she snapped back.
Lord, this was going to be a long trip. Suzanne heard a choking sound coming from Jonas’s direction as he tightened the jib. The boat heeled as they headed closer into the wind.
Nausea grabbed her by the throat. Seasickness? Pregnancy symptom?
She never got seasick.
Crap.
“Back to that moment of silence,” she managed through the queasiness. “I think you would both find it a valuable experience. So let’s give it a try, okay?”
She closed her eyes, pretending to listen to the water while she fought against the queasiness. She hadn’t had any pregnancy symptoms yet—unless you counted “foggy brain.” Ever since the phone call with Logan, she’d felt paralyzed and confused. She hadn’t gone to a doctor yet. She hadn’t told anyone besides Merry and Logan. She hadn’t called her parents. She’d ignored Josh. Neglected Snowball.
All she’d done was lie in bed and spin worry after worry into impossible scenarios.
She’d always been a decisive person. She knew what she wanted and wasn’t shy about going after it. But now she was having the opposite experience. She couldn’t decide anything. All she wanted to do was curl up in bed and sleep and let someone else figure everything out. But there was no one else. That was the problem. There was just her.
For the first time she could remember, she had no idea what to do.
The moment of silence dragged on. She peeked under her eyelashes at Josh’s parents just in time to see Anne step on Rock’s foot, and Rock lift one eyelid to glare at her.
Sigh. So much for harmony on the high seas.
They hit a higher-than-normal wave, and the sailboat lurched awkwardly through a head of spray. Suzanne’s stomach clenched and nausea crawled up her throat. The entire contents of her stomach were clamoring to be released. She couldn’t hold it back.
This was going to be ugly.
She scrambled for the side of the sailboat, nearly losing her footing on the slick deck. She bumped her hip against a cleat—ow. She was going to have a wicked bruise from that. She grabbed the railing and leaned as far as she could over the side. And then it came, all the vomit in the free world, apparently. Everything she’d eaten today, yesterday, and probably last month. And it kept coming. Long, deep heaves. Endless spasms of food rejection.
When she was done, she stayed in that same position, weak and spent, letting the mist churned up by the sloop cool her face.
Behind her, she heard Anne and Rock exclaiming in concern.
“Poor child. Was it something she ate?” Anne asked in a low voice.
“Maybe just seasick.”
She turned around. This was so embarrassing and unprofessional—so unlike her.
“Yes. I’m so sorry. I don’t usually get seasick, but there’s always a first time.” She staggered back to her backpack and dug out a bottle of water. A long swallow made her feel a bit better. One hand on her belly, she slumped back to her seat.
Anne was watching her closely out of eyes as gray as Josh’s. “Are you sure it’s just seasickness? The only time I ever threw up that much was, well…”
Rock chimed in. “All three boys did that to her.” He was watching her a little too closely, too. God, was it that obvious? She really didn’t want Josh’s parents getting in the middle of this.
At least they weren’t quarreling.
“I’d like to point out the island to your left, which is a popular spot for—” She gagged as another twist of nausea hit her.
“Are you okay?” Anne leaned forward and put a hand on her knee.
“Yes. Perfectly fine—” Oh no. She jumped up and made it to the side just in time for a convulsion of dry heaves. When it was over, she could barely manage to straighten up. She felt dizzy, drained, half-dead. She wanted to lie draped over the side of the boat forever.
“Suzanne—honey!” The alarm in Anne’s voice dragged her from her stupor. “You’re bleeding.”
Oh crap, that cleat must have gouged her as well as bruising her. She glanced down at her hip and saw no trace of blood.
Anne came next to her, lurching as the boat hit a wave. She put an arm around her and spoke in a low voice. “Honey, is your period starting?”
Suzanne stared at her in horror. That kind of bleeding? “No. No. Oh my God, I ha
ve to…get—” Here it came again. She gagged over the side, leaning over so far it was a miracle she didn’t fall in.
Anne grabbed her by the shoulders and held tight. The boat rocked from side to side, sending ocean spray in cold droplets against Suzanne’s face. She felt as if the entire world was churning around her, with only Anne’s grip keeping her safe.
“Rock?” Anne called over Suzanne’s head. “Tell that sailor-man we have to turn around. We have to get her to a doctor.”
Rock roared, “Ahoy, man. You heard my wife. Gotta turn the boat around.” Then he added, in a lower voice, “I meant ex-wife. Don’t get your panties in a bunch.”
Suzanne wanted to laugh, or cry, or throw up some more, she didn’t know which. After Jonas had reversed course, Anne helped her stagger to her seat. The older woman pulled a jacket around her and hugged her against her side. Suzanne didn’t object. She huddled against Josh’s mother, grateful for the warmth, the human kindness.
To keep from crying, she kept her gaze fixed on the rocky promontory that jutted into the ocean, the majestic rise of Jupiter Point, the twinkles of light reflecting off glass surfaces at the observatory. All the familiar, beloved landmarks of her childhood.
And she silently begged, and pleaded, and promised, and bargained. To the heavens and all the stars above—please, let my baby be okay.
25
Josh could make no sense of the frantic message from his mother, but he did make out the word “emergency room.” Had something gone wrong out on the water? Maybe one of his parents had pushed the other overboard? He called a cab and got himself across town to the urgent care clinic in record time.
Inside the clinic, he found his parents sitting together in the lobby, but no sign of Suzanne. For the first time, it occurred to him that she might be the one in trouble. He swung forward on his crutches. “Mom, Pop. What’s going on?”
“Josh!” His mother jumped to her feet and came hurrying toward him. “Suzanne’s going to be so glad you came.”
“Of course I came. What happened? Is she okay?”
“She will be, now that you’re here. At a time like this, a girl needs support.”
A time like what? Josh had no idea what was going on, and the fact that his parents weren’t fighting added to his confusion. He felt as if he’d stepped into some alternate reality. It made him nervous, actually.
“Where is Suzanne?”
“She’s resting comfortably now. Of course, that’s a ridiculous euphemism, as I can tell you based on my own personal experience. There’s nothing comfortable about it. Luckily it was a false alarm. The heartbeat is still good.”
“Heartbeat?” He glanced from one parent to another, his alarm skyrocketing. “Is something wrong with her heart?”
“I’d say her heart got her into this mess. Along with a few other parts of her.” Rock crossed his ankle over his knee and jiggled the change in his pocket.
“Rock,” his mother scolded. “That’s so indelicate.” She turned to Josh. “Just ignore him and focus on what’s important.”
Josh shook his head from side to side, with the sense he was knocking cobwebs out of his brain. What would it take to get a clear answer out of his mother? “I’m. Trying. To. It would help if someone would tell me what’s going on.”
“Haven’t I been doing exactly that? Honestly, I really wish you’d told me, Josh. I don’t know why you feel the need to be so secretive. The poor girl is all alone. Her own mother virtually abandoned her, did you know that? They’re off traveling the world while poor Suzanne has no one to turn to. Of all times in a woman’s life, this is when she needs the most support.”
A horrible suspicion popped into his brain. Was Suzanne—no, she couldn’t be. He always used a condom, every single time—
“Excuse me, are you Suzanne Finnegan’s fiancé?” The cool female voice made him jump.
“I…uh…” Was he supposed to be? He’d honestly lost track of their fictional relationship at this point.
“He is,” Anne jumped in quickly. “This is my son, Josh.”
“Nice to meet you, Josh. I’m Betsy Johannsen, nurse midwife.” Numbly, Josh shook the woman’s hand. The nurse’s hand. No, the nurse midwife’s hand. The—?
He couldn’t summon a single word of response.
The nurse continued. “I’m happy to report that your baby is going to be fine. Early spotting like this isn’t uncommon. Suzanne got dehydrated and disoriented, but she’s going to be just fine and the pregnancy is in good shape.”
The preg—
He reeled backwards, nearly toppling over on his crutches. So it was true. Suzanne was pregnant. And everyone apparently thought that he was the father.
A sort of panic came over him. As if a wildfire was chasing him down…cornering him…
“No,” he blurted. “I’m not part of this.”
The nurse’s smile vanished. “Excuse me?”
“I’m not the father.” He turned to his parents. “It’s not me. We’ve been very careful. And Suzanne and I haven’t even been having sex long enough—”
Okay, talking to his parents about his sex life—awkward.
“It’s not me,” he finished, certainty ringing through his voice. “Did Suzanne say it was?”
“Well, no, we just assumed. She didn’t say anything, she was too sick.” Anne’s bottom lip was starting to quiver. She dabbed at her eyes. “It’s not you?”
“Of course it’s not me. Haven’t you heard me say a million times that I’m not continuing the damn Marshall line? I’m not father material. I’m not husband material.”
“That’s absurd, Josh. You’ll adjust to the idea. Just give it some time to sink in.”
Rock stood up, his tall, bulky form dwarfing that of his former wife. “Take it from me, son. It’s terrifying at first, but you’ll settle down. Just like I did.”
Settle down.
The words rattled around in his head like bullets trying to end him.
No. He wasn’t going to settle down. He wasn’t going to end up like his parents.
He backed away, using his crutches to swing toward the front desk. “You both need to stay out of this.” He heard the harsh edge in his own voice. “My life is not your business.”
“You’re our son. How can you say that?” Anne cried.
“I’m going to see Suzanne and straighten this out.”
The nurse stepped into his path. “I don’t think so, buddy. I’m starting to doubt you’re even her fiancé. She’ll be checking out soon and then you can talk to her on your own time.”
“Fine.” He spun around on his crutches and stumped for the exit. “Tell Suzanne I hope she feels better and I really, really look forward to finding out exactly what’s up. Everyone else, stay away.”
“Are you implying that she’s making this all up?” Suddenly Rock was in his path. He glared at his father. “Son, we were out in that sailboat with her. She was throwing up and bleeding. It’s lucky we were there because she wasn’t thinking clearly. Something terrible could have happened to your baby.”
“Stop saying that. This has nothing to do with me. It has nothing to do with you, either. Now let me out of here. Goddamn.”
With a shake of his head, his father fell back to let him pass. He stormed out, the rubber tips of the crutches making loud squeaks on the linoleum floor.
But he still wasn’t in the clear. He stalked to the sidewalk, toward the taxi stand where the cab had left him. And there was his mother, angrier than he’d ever seen her.
“Josh Marshall, you stop right there.”
He stopped. Even though he wanted to flee, with every fiber of his body, this was his mother, after all. He stared at her stonily while she planted her hands on her hips.
“I know what’s going on here. You’re afraid. You love that girl.”
“I’m not afraid. But it’s not my baby.” He tried to pass her, but she blocked his path again.
“You’re afraid.” She gave him a lit
tle shove in the chest. “You’re afraid of getting ripped apart the way you were by all our fighting. The way you still are.”
His jaw went so tight he couldn’t have spoken if he’d tried.
“That’s why you’re afraid to love anyone again. Because let me tell you something, Joshua James Marshall. You were the sweetest, most loving little boy that was ever born. You loved us, you loved your brothers, you loved every single animal on the ranch. And you’re still that loving boy, underneath that carefree, footloose act you try to pull. I understand why you’re afraid. I know how much we hurt you with all our fighting. And I’m sorry. I’m sorry for it. But this is your life, buckaroo. You’re the only one who can fix it.”
He couldn’t move, couldn’t react, couldn’t speak. His mother refused to look away, refused to let him pass.
When a taxi pulled up at the curb next to him, it might as well have been a rescue chopper. He dove into it and shut the door behind him.
Where now? Run…hide…what?
In a hoarse voice, he told the driver to head to the hotshot base.
26
Suzanne wasn’t generally a crier, but tears had started rolling down her cheeks as soon as she heard Josh say the words, “I’m not part of this.” And then he kept going, and it got worse and worse. I really look forward to finding out exactly what’s up. I’m not father material…did Suzanne say it was? This has nothing to do with me. Each sentence left scorch marks across her heart.
As she lay in the narrow hospital bed, an IV doling fluids into her system, she made herself repeat each of those lines to make sure she didn’t forget.
Believe it, Suzanne. Remember it and believe it. He doesn’t want any part of this. Why would he? It’s not his baby and he knows it. He doesn’t want his own baby, let alone someone else’s.
The IV must be working, because the more she stewed over the things he’d said, the angrier she got. It was energizing, really. She felt rejuvenated and not at all foggy-brained anymore. Josh had run out of the clinic so fast, his crutches must have left skid marks. She didn’t need that kind of attitude in her life. Screw Josh. Just because she was in love with him—yes, still, she had to admit it—didn’t mean she was going to let him insult her.
Burn So Bright Page 21
