Renee offered Robbie the papers. “I did print out some info for you,” she said. “Take a look at it sometime soon. Maybe it’ll make you feel better if you know what to expect going in.”
Robbie took the papers. “Thanks, Mom. I already did some searches on it too, but I’ll look at this later.”
With that, Robbie pulled out headphones, turned on his music, and tuned her out. She took the cue and left him to his thoughts.
Molly followed her downstairs. Renee looked down at the dog and scratched behind her ear.
“You sensed the teenage angst up there, too, huh?”
Chapter 33
Gift of Science
Renee, Robbie, and Julie met Grant and Grace for dinner near the hospital the evening before the procedure. Julie was home for Easter break and insisted on coming along. A hostess showed them to their already occupied table. A man and woman lifted from their chairs as they approached.
He doesn’t look a thing like Jim, Renee thought—unsure if this was a relief or a disappointment—but she sensed something . . . familiar about him as they made introductions.
“Renee,” the man said, shaking her hand with both of his own before giving off a small laugh and embracing her in a warm hug. “I am so happy to finally meet you. And you must be Julie . . . and Robbie.”
Despite having just met them, Grant hugged each of them individually, conveying his gratitude. Maybe that was the familiarity Renee felt . . . the kindness.
“And this is my daughter, Grace.” He motioned to the tall wisp of a young woman to his left. Grace offered a brief wave, not nearly as demonstrative as her dad. Her hair was nearly white and fell straight to her waist. Her skin had a translucent quality.
“Please, have a seat,” Grant instructed, sitting back down. “Did you guys get settled in the hotel? We’ll have to be at the hospital early tomorrow . . . you were smart to get a room close by.”
They all settled around the table. Small talk continued until they placed their orders.
“I can hardly believe we’re sitting here tonight,” Grant said with a hint of wonder in his voice. “It felt like such a long shot last fall, reaching out to the people I thought were my brother’s adoptive parents. And now, here we are.”
“We still find all this hard to believe, too,” Renee agreed, glancing around their table. “Jim would have loved to have had the chance to get to know you. He hated being an only child. I think that’s why he loved spending time with my brother and sisters. He fit right in with my family.”
“What was Jim like?” Grant asked, clearly anxious to learn more about his twin. “Did he like sports? What did he do for fun? How did you meet? Do you . . . do you have a picture of him?”
Renee had to laugh—Grant was like a little kid, asking question after question. She dug her phone out of her purse and pulled up her photos.
“I thought you might want to see a picture of Jim, so I found an old album and snapped a few copies so I could show you,” she explained, handing her phone to Grant. As he scrolled through the images, Renee continued.
“Well, let’s see . . . Jim wasn’t a huge sports fan, except for football. He played in high school and was a diehard Vikings fan. When he had time, he loved to fish. I remember shortly after we got married, his car had almost two hundred thousand miles on it, but instead of replacing it, he bought afishing boat. I thought he was crazy. In the winter, it was ice fishing.”
“Oh, I loved it when we went ice fishing!” Julie jumped in. “We had that little pop-up fish house and Dad would fire up his heater-thingamajig so the holes wouldn’t freeze over. We would go with Uncle Ethan and our cousins. I loved how it would be kinda dark in the house but the holes glowed . . . socool.”
“That’s right, I forgot about that, honey,” Renee said, smiling. “You two would take off on Saturdays. I stayed home with Robbie. He was too little to go along. I worried he would step into one of the holes!”
This line of reminiscing was met with a groan and eye roll from Robbie but laughs from the others.
“Jim was a good man, Grant,” Renee said. “You would have been proud to call him your brother. He was a good father.”
“It sounds that way,” Grant replied, still scrolling through the photos. When he finished, he looked up and turned to Robbie. “How ’bout you, Robbie? What do you remember about your dad?”
Robbie shrugged, slow to respond. “Guess I don’t remember much. I was only five when he died.” He glanced at Grace, catching her eye. She hadn’t contributed much to the conversation, either, but a small smile hovered on her lips. She seemed at peace with the new hope. She wasn’t upset by Robbie’s mention of death.
Robbie’s comment did dampen the enthusiasm around the table, but right at that moment dinner arrived, saving him from more awkward talk about the father he barely knew.
As they ate, Grant filled in any holes in the conversation, clearly excited but also a bit uncomfortable. Robbie fidgeted and pushed his pizza around on his plate. Grace’s eyes were pained and she barely ate, but she never complained.
Eventually their waitress brought the check, and the two single parents remembered the main reason they were there.
“We better call it a night,” Renee suggested. “Robbie and Grace both need a good night’s sleep.”
“Of course,” Grant agreed, taking care of the check. “You’re right, we better head over to the hotel and turn in. We’ll see you three tomorrow morning?” he acquiesced with a hesitant smile, helping Grace to her feet.
***
Despite getting to bed by 10:30, Robbie didn’t get much rest. Renee heard him flopping around on his bed. He finally settled down, but soon was muttering in his sleep and whining in some imagined pain. By 6:00 a.m., they all gave up attempts at sleep and headed across the street to the hospital. The nurses had already taken Robbie to the back by the time Grace arrived. She was ushered away, and the remaining three settled into hard plastic chairs, sipping bitter coffee while they waited. An hour later, a hospital volunteer came by with a large box of donuts on a metal cart—but they were all too nervous to eat.
Finally, one of the doctors came out to update them. Robbie had done well and was resting in recovery. Grace was receiving the transplant; once she was done, she would have to be in isolation to minimize any chance of infection. Relieved at the progress, they all relaxed a bit. Robbie would be able to go home either tonight or in the morning, depending on how he felt.
Grant, a writer by trade, said he planned on posting an update on Grace’s condition to the online site they’d created to let family and friends know how she was doing. He moved off to work alone at a small round table in the back corner of the room. Julie and Renee played a card game to pass the time.
After losing three games of Rummy (and blaming it on her inability to concentrate), Renee stood and stretched. “Hey Grant, Julie and I are going to walk down to the cafeteria and grab some lunch. Want to join us?”
“No, you two go ahead, I’m gonna sit tight.”
Gone was the talkative man from the night before. This man sat stoically, alone, unwilling to do anything more after he finished his post. Renee saw him discreetly brush a tear from his eye before it could make its way down his cheek. If this operation didn’t work, there were no good options left—and all Grant could do was wait, pray, and hold vigil. Renee offered him a reassuring pat on the shoulder as they left the waiting room, conveying a silent offer of support.
Fresh coffee and bowls of soup with oyster crackers were enough to revive Renee and Julie. Nothing more substantial sounded appetizing, and they didn’t want to be gone when Robbie came out of recovery. Grant was just finishing up with the doctor when they got back to the waiting room. Some of the tension had dissipated from around his eyes when he shared the update.
“Grace tolerated the procedure well, but she’s weak. They expect her to sleep for hours yet. I won’t be able to see her for a while, but I want to stay close. I think I’ll grab a quic
k sandwich. Would you . . . would you mind staying here?” he asked tentatively. “Just in case there’s any more news while I’m gone.”
“Absolutely. Go, grab something to eat and stretch your legs,” Renee encouraged.
When he left, Julie turned to Renee and said, “No news is good news. Right?”
***
Later, Renee and Julie were allowed back to see Robbie.
He was groggy and not making much sense when they walked in. Julie bit back a giggle when he asked if she brought Tigger. Tigger had been Robbie’s favorite stuffed animal until well into his grade-school years.
Renee nudged Julie, giving her a look. “No, honey, sorry,” she said to Robbie.
He shrugged. “Ah, well. He’d probably be scared anyway.” And with that, he drifted back to sleep.
***
Mid-afternoon, Renee’s parents stopped in. They had been shocked when Renee shared all the developments around Jim’s family. Two more chairs were brought in and quiet conversation floated around as they waited for Robbie to wake up again. Renee worried he might sleep for hours—she knew all too well how much he enjoyed sleeping. But prodding by the day nurse woke him in the late afternoon and he was soon sweet-talking staff, trying to convince them to send him home. He felt fine, or so he said, despite the twinge he gave when he gingerly got himself out of bed to use the restroom, groping around to hold his hospital gown closed so he didn’t flash his grandparents. Renee went to check on Grant and Grace, promising to be right back. The nurse agreed to send the doctor in so they could decide whether or not Robbie had to stay the night.
Grant was alone in the waiting room, sound asleep in what had to be an uncomfortable position in one of the plastic chairs. He jumped when Renee touched his shoulder. Rubbing his eyes, he took a minute to wake up.
“Oh, hey Renee, how’s Robbie doing?”
“He’s awake and trying to figure out a way to break out of here so he can go home. Any news on Grace?”
Grant took a deep breath and sat up straighter in the unforgiving chair, flexing his shoulders. “Doc Larson stopped in about an hour ago. She has a bit of a fever, so they’re keeping a close eye on her. Said it wasn’t a huge cause for concern, but, at this point . . . any hiccup scares the shit out of me.”
“Do you think maybe you should go get a little rest back at the hotel? You’ve been here for hours, Grant.”
“Hell, no,” he said immediately. “I’m not going anywhere.”
I get it, Renee thought. If Robbie experienced any setbacks, she wouldn’t go anywhere either.
“Tell you what,” she said, “I’ll keep you posted on whether or not they let Robbie go home tonight. If he can leave, I’ll take him home so he can sleep in his own bed. If he can’t leave, we’ll stay at the hotel again. Either way, I promise to come up tomorrow to look in on Grace.”
Grant captured Renee’s hand as she stood to leave. “Renee, thank you for giving us this chance.”
She gave him a small smile of acknowledgment, then left to check on her boy.
Chapter 34
Gift of Spring
Robbie got his way—that boy could schmooze his way out of anything—and was sent home to sleep in his own bed. After Renee got him settled with the remote control, his tablet and his dog next to him, she left him to rest. He was asleep within minutes; the drive home had tired him out more than he would admit. She continued to check on him every couple of hours, even during the middle of the night, just as she had done when he was a baby. She stood quietly in the doorway, watching for his chest to rise and fall as he lay there so still. Despite the discomfort from the incision in his back, he slept better than he had the night before.
Good, she thought, smiling. The big guy deserves it.
Renee was up early the next morning. Keeping her promise to herself, she spent the morning sending out cover letters and resumes and searching online job-boards. She needed to get serious about finding a job. She wasn’t excited about any of the prospects posted; nevertheless, she knew it was important to network and get her name out.
Julie spent the day on homework. Robbie was content to lounge in front of the television. Renee stopped up at the hospital but was not yet allowed to see Grace. Grant appreciated the caramel latte she brought and assured her he was fine.
“Just waiting for Grace to show some meaningful improvement,” he said, with what Renee thought looked like a forced smile.
***
After the hospital, she headed to the salon. She wanted to have a new look before she started interviewing. She was tired of the same old hairstyle.
Haven’t changed it in a decade! she realized, grimacing.
Once she was sporting a short new style, brightened up with highlights, she headed to the mall. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d shopped at noon on a Thursday. Shopping wasn’t her favorite activity, but she wanted a couple of fresh outfits for her job search. She was pleasantly surprised when clothes in her usual size were loose.
More time spent on daily walks with Molly and less sitting at a desk helped shave a few pounds off without my even realizing it! she thought. Wish Matt could see . . .
Once she purchased a few corporate-appropriate pieces, Renee headed to a sporting goods store. She picked up a new pair of tennis shoes and some cute exercise clothes. This shopping was more fun than picking out dress clothes.
Renee made one last stop on her way home to pick up groceries and a few Easter goodies. Even if her kids were too old to believe in the Easter bunny, she had to have a basket for each of them and eggs to dye. They were going back to her parents’ for Easter, heading over on Saturday night and staying until Monday.
Renee was apprehensive about their Saturday plans. The days were getting longer. It was time to visit her lake property. She needed to figure out what she wanted to do with it. When she was able to land a job, there was no way she would be able to spend much time out there. Was there any way she could actually get the resort up and running again, albeit with her as an absentee owner? She had promised herself not to remain solely dependent on income from an eight-to-five again . . . and Aunt Celia had placed an opportunity for a second stream of income right in her lap.
But I don’t know the first thing about running a resort!
Chapter 35
Gift of Place
Saturday dawned gray and chilly; a brisk wind pushed bare tree branches in a slow dance. A late-season snow flurry the previous night cloaked springtime muck along the roads. George had made the drive to Celia’s property enough times over the years to remember how to get there. He made one wrong turn, but quickly got his bearings. Renee didn’t recognize any landmarks. She had been too young to pay attention the times she made this trip.
George turned off the paved road, onto a gravel path. Renee pointed to a familiar weathered sign:
Welcome to
Whispering Pines
The sign’s letters were faded; it hung askew, either from growth of massive tree branches pushing it off kilter or because the sign was falling apart.
“I hope the whole place isn’t in as tough of shape as that sign,” Renee muttered.
They drove slowly down the lane, anxious to see what awaited them at the end of the road. Their progress was hampered by mounds of crystallized snow. Sunlight, filtered by the tall pines lining the path, was not yet strong enough to melt it all.
Finally, a clearing was evident ahead. All five strained for their first view of the resort. First came the view of the lake—a large gray expanse intersected with veins of jagged black where the ice was relinquishing its winter hold on the water. As they rounded a final bend, log-sided buildings dotted the open clearing. Sun had managed to melt the snow off the open paths intersecting the grounds. A graveled parking lot curved to their right, beside it a bigger structure with green trim. The smaller cabins off to the left had red trim, now faded a dull pink. Renee recognized the green-trimmed lodge—childhood memories flashed in her mind of playing Pac-M
an in its upstairs.
The whole place had an air of desertion. Only tiny prints left behind by wildlife marred the snow and thawing ground. The vehicle doors creaked open and slammed shut, and then the only sound was of a low moaning wind.
“Not exactly how I remember it,” George commented, surveying the dreary surroundings. “Only ever came out here in the summer. Used to take you kids down to the water with your fishing poles and a big bucket of night crawlers. Remember that? Ethan, I never saw a kid get as excited as you did when you caught your first northern. It was only a few pounds, but you fought that damn fish the whole way in, acted like the thing was a twenty-pounder!”
“I do remember, Dad,” Ethan said, laughing. “You showed me how to clean the thing, too. When we cut it open, there was a smaller fish in its belly.”
“Oh God, how gross,” Julie cringed at the image as she walked around the side of the vehicle, taking it all in.
“I remember playing kick-the-can at night and eating s’mores around the campfire,” Renee shared.
“Yep,” Jess agreed, “and my favorite days were spent in the hammock, reading a good book.”
They all laughed at Jess’s comment; she was still a bookworm—little had changed.
Julie started down a muck-filled path toward the lake. A booming CRACK! split the air and she jumped backward with a little scream. Grandpa George, laughing, cut off her dash back to the SUV.
“What the hell was that?” Julie said, her eyes still wild.
Laughing even harder, he assured her, “That, my dear, is just the ice cracking. Don’t you remember hearing that when you used to ice fish?”
The contemplative mood broken, George dug keys out of his pocket. He brought them from Celia’s house. Everyone followed him up to the lodge door. It took finagling with the lock, but between George and Jess, they were able to slide the deadbolt out of the way. The heavy green door groaned on its hinges as it swung inward.
Whispering Pines (Celia's Gifts Book 1) Page 17
