Danny shared the same joy of life as his mother, the same relentless optimism, which is probably why he had been so determined to find his father, confident there could be a happy ending.
God! Matt closed his eyes in despair. Bile rose in his throat. He was suddenly terribly afraid of the future, of losing the one person in the family who still looked up to him. Danny, his best buddy, his pal.
Matt wanted to go to the hospital. Merrilee had called him every hour on the hour all day long. He hadn't answered the phone, because he didn't know what to say, how to explain. And he couldn't face her complaints or her insults. He didn't have the strength or the right answers.
First, he had to find his car -- his goddamned car. Where the hell was it? He had tried Brenda, but all he got was her machine. Kenny was fishing and wouldn't be back till late, and Jody said she had gone straight home after the Acapulco Lounge.
Matt picked up the phone again and dialed the bar. Maybe Barry could reassure him with the news that his car was still safely parked in the lot.
A busy tone buzzed in his ear.
Damn.
Matt didn't want to wait. Not one more second. The Acapulco Lounge was only a mile or so away. He'd take his bike, find his car, throw the bike in the back and go to the hospital with a clean conscience.
Merrilee looked down at her watch as Richard stepped off the hospital elevator. He had been gone all day. No calls. Nothing. Just like always. Why was she surprised? He had been that way for months.
"Merrilee." Richard leaned down to kiss her on the cheek. She turned her head away, giving him her profile.
"It's almost six," she said.
"We had a long lunch." Richard sat down on the couch next to her and tugged at his tie. He looked tired, older than his forty-three years. "Any change?"
Merrilee shrugged. "Danny moved a few fingers. Jenny was practically delirious with joy, but the doctor said it was just a reflex. He's in a coma."
"I can't believe this is happening."
"Jenny won't leave his bedside. Matt hasn't shown up, and my father refuses to come down here." Her voice caught and for the first time in a long time, her iron control slipped away. "I feel so alone. I don't know what to do -- what to say. Every word that comes out of my mouth seems to be wrong."
Richard put an arm around her and pulled her against his chest. He hadn't held her so close in ages. Merrilee closed her eyes and breathed in the scent of him. But the flowery smell disturbed her -- another woman's perfume.
She pushed the thought out of her mind. He had been with clients; one had probably been a woman.
"It's okay, Merrilee," Richard said. "You're trying to help. That's all you can do."
At least, he had admitted she was trying. God, she didn't think anyone had noticed. Her eyes filled with tears. She never cried, never. Blinking them away, she lifted her head. "Can I borrow your handkerchief?"
Without waiting for him to answer, she reached into the inside pocket of his jacket and pulled out the square piece of white linen. Something fell out along with it, something gold and round with a diamond in the center.
His wedding ring, the ring she had slipped onto his finger seventeen years ago.
It landed on the carpet. Richard reached for it at the same time she did. Her hand closed around it first. She opened her palm in front of his disturbed gaze.
"Why aren't you wearing your ring?" she asked.
"I -- I've gained a few pounds. It was getting tight."
"Liar." She said the word out loud, shocking herself as much as him.
"What?"
"You've lost weight if anything."
"What are you accusing me of?" Richard asked. He didn't look scared or embarrassed or caught red-handed. It was almost as if he wanted her to say it out loud, wanted to end the farce between them.
Merrilee couldn't say the words. She couldn't risk losing everything.
"Nothing. I'm not accusing you of anything. Maybe we should have this enlarged." Merrilee handed him back the ring. "I want you to be able to wear it for the rest of your life. You want that, too, don't you?"
"Of course," Richard muttered as he slid the ring back on his finger without any trouble at all.
The parking lot of the Acapulco Lounge was empty. The Saturday night crowd had not yet arrived. Matt parked his ten-speed bike along the side wall. He scanned the parking lot for his car. It wasn't there.
He walked toward the front door, then hesitated. A police car was parked diagonally across two spaces. It had to be a coincidence, probably some drunk stirring up trouble. Nothing more. He certainly didn't have anything to worry about.
Still, Matt had been wary of cops for the past two years. He'd done his share of speeding and driving under the influence. He hadn't been caught yet, but he had come close. When he was sober, he knew he was flirting with disaster, but danger had always been a part of his life.
Football was danger -- violence, thrills, excitement. He missed the game as deeply as if someone had cut off his right arm, his golden arm. He had been so damn good. Better than the shit that was playing in the NFL now.
It wasn't fair that five years ago Bernie Steinman, a defensive lineman, had ruined everything with one tackle. Matt's leg had broken in three places. He could still hear the pops, one-two-three.
The pain came back into his leg, and it was so sharp, he stopped. It wasn't really there, of course. His leg had long since healed. But his heart was still broken, and his mind still blurred by the sudden ending of everything he had ever wanted.
He was nothing without football. Except when he drank. Then he felt better. He could forget the pain for a while, pretend he was at a party, pretend the babes were still hot for him. There were a few, of course, wanting to get a vicarious thrill by laying a famous ex-quarterback. Even those had started to fade away, looking for the next hot jock.
The only one who really gave a damn about him was Jen-Jen. Which reminded him of why he was standing in the parking lot, too afraid to go inside.
Deep down, he didn't believe that he could have driven a car into his nephew and fled. Still, he couldn't remember one thing about the night, and his car was nowhere to be found.
Squaring his shoulders, Matt pushed open the door and walked into the lounge.
There were two cops standing at the bar, talking to Joseph, one of the waiters. The first, a woman he didn't recognize. The second was Alan Brady, his sister's boyfriend. Shit.
Matt wanted to turn and run, get the hell out of the bar, but Alan saw him, and he couldn't move.
"Matt," Alan said in surprise, "where the hell have you been? I've left a dozen messages for you."
"I know. I just got them."
"Have you been to the hospital? Have you seen Jenny?"
Matt knew he would look like an ass if he admitted that he hadn't been anywhere except this low-dive bar. But he couldn't think of another thing to say. Not even the lies came easily these days.
"Not yet," he mumbled.
Alan narrowed his gaze. "Why not?"
His voice was deceptively quiet, but Matt stiffened. He and Alan had never gotten to be friends, because Alan thought he was a worthless piece of shit, and Matt didn't feel like hanging out with one of the long arms of the law. "I'm not good at hospitals. I'd just bring her down."
"She couldn't get any lower. She needs you, Matt. Merrilee is driving her crazy."
"That doesn't surprise me."
"Can I get you a drink?" Joseph asked.
"A beer, thanks."
"A beer?" Alan questioned. "You're going to sit in here and get drunk while your nephew is in the hospital?"
"Alan, careful," the female cop admonished.
Alan glared at Matt. "You're a bastard."
Matt shrugged, hiding the pain that Alan's words created. He was a bastard. Only he wasn't sure how much of a bastard he was. If he had driven his car into Danny, how could he ever live with himself?
"How can you be such an asshole?" Alan persisted
as he took a step forward.
Alan was bigger than he was, and Matt instinctively backed up, but Alan's hand came around his arm in a steel grip. "I want you to go outside, get in your car, and go to the hospital now."
"I can't."
"You can and you will." Alan strong-armed him, pulling him forcefully across the room and out into the parking lot. "Where's your car?" he demanded.
"I rode my bike," Matt said, avoiding Alan's gaze. Shit, he was in trouble now.
"Your bike? What happened to your car?"
"Nothing. I felt like some exercise."
"Really. Really?" Alan pushed Matt up against the wall of the building.
"Hey, watch it, you're hurting me."
"Not as much as I'd like to. Now, let me ask you another question. Were you drinking in this bar last night?"
"What's it to you?"
"The waiter said there was a pretty good crowd here when he arrived around eight."
"So?"
"Where the hell is your car, Matt? You better tell me right now that it doesn't have a broken headlight or I'm going to beat the living crap out of you."
Chapter Eleven
Jenny leaned her head back against the chair and shut out the sight of Danny's hospital room.
She had to rest, if only for a moment. The weariness was too much.
As she let herself drift into sleep, the dream came again.
She and Luke in her bright red Volkswagen convertible driving along the Pacific Coast Highway. The scenery was spectacular -- dark jagged cliffs that dropped a few feet off the side of the road into the swirling, white-topped waves of the Pacific Ocean. The radio was playing Elton John's "Crocodile Rock," and she was singing off-key with the chorus.
Luke had his hand along the back of her seat. His fingers rubbed against her shoulder, bare in the warm, midday sun. She felt alive, young, and in love, strong enough to conquer the world. Her foot came down heavy on the gas pedal. The car sped forward. Her brown hair fell loose from a pony tail ribbon that flew into the wind. She laughed. So did Luke.
He looked at her and smiled, white teeth against a tanned face. Luke lifted his sunglasses, and the blue of his eyes took her breath away. Her hand clenched on the wheel and the car swung to the right. Luke grabbed the side of the door and she straightened the car in apology.
"Slow down," he said. "You're going too fast."
"If we go fast enough, we might be able to fly." She laughed at his horrified expression. "Don't worry, I'm not that crazy." Jenny slowed the car down and pulled off to the side at a vista point. She got out of the car and walked over to the railing so she could look at the sea.
Luke followed her. He put his arms around her waist and pulled her back against his body.
"Isn't this wonderful?" Jenny asked, twisting in his arms to face him. "You, me, this fabulous day, this glorious summer. We don't need anything else. We've got it all."
Luke looked down at her. "You make me want to believe that."
"Then believe it."
Jenny kissed him on the cheek, drawing her lips along his jawline until she caught the corner of his mouth. He sucked in his breath. She loved the sound of his breathing. It was often the only sign she had that he was vulnerable to her, not in control as he pretended to be.
Luke turned his mouth fully into hers. He deepened the kiss, pushing past her lips, into the warmth of her mouth. His tongue danced with hers. His hands slipped under her sweater, caressing her curves as if she were a delicate piece of china.
Luke was so much more sophisticated than the boys she had dated. In fact, he wasn't a boy. He was a man. And he made her feel like a woman.
Despite their outward differences, they were completely in tune with each other. She covered her loneliness with boisterous laughter. Luke covered his loneliness with arrogant silence. Together, they chased the loneliness away, found love and joy in each other's arms.
When Luke lifted his head, his breathing was ragged. His pulse beat rapidly in the corner of his throat. But that was Luke, always in a hurry, with places to go, people to see, things to accomplish. Jenny liked speed, but only for the joy of going fast, not the purpose of getting to the next step in her life.
"I'd like to make love to you right here," Luke whispered.
She ran her hand along the back of his neck, sliding her fingers into his hair. "'Why don't we?"
"Are you nuts? We're on the side of a highway."
"Once you start kissing me, I don't think I'll notice."
He grinned. "You're probably right about that." His smile faded. "We're all wrong for each other, Jenny."
"Not in the ways that count the most."
"I'm leaving at the end of the summer."
"We have another month."
"I'll be busy with medical school."
"You'll still have time to think about me, to write a letter once in a while, to pick up the phone."
"I'm not sure I will."
Her heart grew heavy at his words. "Don't be silly, Luke, you'll make time. I love you. You love me."
She waited, wanting him to assure her that he did love her, but he never said the words, he just nodded. Someday, he would say them. She would make sure of that.
"We have to go. My parents are taking me out to dinner tonight," Luke said.
"I wish I could meet them."
Luke stiffened and looked past her. "I'm sure you will. Someday."
"Why not tonight?"
"We're dining with old friends -- boring old friends. You'd have a terrible time."
"I could never have a terrible time with you."
She lowered her arms to his waist and rested her head on his chest, reveling in the sound of his heartbeat. She loved his body, the power of his muscles, the gentleness of his hands, the way he moved against her, inside her. He was her first and only lover. She couldn't imagine being with anyone else.
"I've never met anyone like you," Luke said quietly. "I don't think I ever will again."
"Good."
"You make me think I can do anything."
"You can do anything." She looked into his eyes. "I believe in you."
He looked at her searchingly. "Why?"
"Because you're smart, and because you care. Sometimes you try to hide it, but I know that deep down you aren't as closed off as you'd like to be."
"Not with you. But you're the only one. I've never had close friends, Jen. Never. Something about you makes me want to spill my guts."
"Then spill 'em. Don't you get it, Sheridan?" She punched him playfully.
"Get what?"
"I'll love you no matter what. You don't have to be rich or important or anything else. In fact, I almost wish you weren't any of those things."
"I am, Jenny. I can't stop being me."
"I don't think you've started being you -- at least not yet. It's almost as if you're afraid to let the real Luke out. I don't understand why."
Luke cut her off with a kiss, and she let him get away with it, because it was tender and passionate, as warm and lovely as the day surrounding them. She skipped out of his embrace and threw her arms out to the sea. "I will never ever forget this day -- or last night," she said, turning back to him.
His eyes reflected the memory of their night together, the passion, the love. "Neither will I."
"Take off your shirt," she said.
Luke's mouth dropped open. "What?"
"We have to throw something into the sea, to seal our promise not to forget."
"My shirt? You want to throw my shirt into the water? This is a Polo shirt, Jenny. It cost a fair amount of money."
"Oh, pooh." She pulled at the edges of his shirt as Luke reluctantly took it off.
"Okay, I've done it. Now you take off your shirt," he said with a wicked grin.
Jenny laughed. "Not on your life."
"Why not? You 're the one who likes to live dangerously."
Jenny looked at the road. It was empty for an early morning weekday. "Oh, what the hell."
She pulled her shirt over her head and stood there in her black lace bra.
Luke immediately stepped behind her. "I can't believe you actually did that."
"You told me to."
"I was kidding."
"Too late. Come on." She took his hand and walked to the edge. "Let's do it together."
She held her shirt in one hand and Luke's in the other. They looked out at the sea for a long moment.
"Hurry up. I'm freezing," he said.
"Okay. To us, Luke and Jenny, now and forever."
They tossed their shirts over the cliff, watching as the pink and white floated together, entwined as they themselves were. The clothing drifted into the sea, like a ghostly vision, swallowed by the waves.
Luke pulled Jenny into his arms, and wound his hands through her hair, passionately, desperately, as if he were afraid to let her go. He said her name over and over again.
His voice got louder and louder. Jenny blinked her eyes open and lifted her head. The ocean was gone. The convertible was gone. The cliffs in front of her were replaced by the white sheet of a hospital bed, and she was no longer eighteen and in love.
The voice came again. She straightened in the chair next to Danny's bed and turned her head toward the door.
Luke. He was standing at the end of the bed. He wasn't looking at her, but at Danny -- his son.
She had imagined the moment a thousand times, but never like this -- never like this.
His blue eyes filled with pain. His face tightened until his jaw stood out in stark relief.
"My God, he's real. He's real," Luke said in wonder.
She stood up. "Luke -- "
He held up a hand. "Let me look at him, please. I just want to look at him."
Jenny swallowed hard, taking a step back so Luke could move closer to the bed.
It was disturbing to see Luke now, and difficult to deny him anything. The vivid dream had taken her back to a time when she had loved this man more than life itself. Now and forever, she had promised.
Daniel's Gift Page 11
