Body Shot (Last Shot)

by Kelly Jamieson

  Then around eight o’clock as they were getting ready to board, he called Marco. “Hey, man. I’ve got a little problem.”

  “Yeah?” Marco sounded like he’d just woken up, a little hoarse. “Whassup?”

  “I’m at the airport. My dad had a heart attack so I’m going home to see him.”

  “Jesus! Seriously? He okay?”

  “He’s alive.” Beck grimaced. “They’re doing some tests. I’ll find out more when I get there.”

  “Hell, Beck. You okay?”

  “Yeah.” Marco knew how much he detested going home, which was why he rarely did it. “I’m okay.” He kinda wasn’t, but whatever. He wasn’t going to get into it all right now. “Not sure how long I’ll be gone. Probably a few days, anyway. You guys’ll be okay without me?”

  “Nah, man, things are gonna fall down around our asses with you gone for a few days.”

  Beck gave a dry chuckle. “Asshole. Sorry about this.”

  “Hey, don’t apologize. Not like you had any control over it. And yeah, you have to go see him. Make sure your mom’s okay.”

  “I’m sure she’s fine.” She’d fallen apart the day Aidan had died, but since then, he’d never seen so much as one tear or flicker of sadness, fear, or even love. She might be a bit upset, but she’d handle this. “I’ll let you know what’s happening when I know more.”

  “Yeah. Whatever you need, man, just let us know.”

  “Thanks.” He ended the call and lowered his phone.

  Traveling sucked. Sitting around waiting. Sitting on the plane waiting. A five-hour flight to Philadelphia, then waiting in that airport. He used that time to make calls to his financial advisor and his lawyer, for some discussion and to make arrangements for an idea he had. The next flight was short. Then he was in Boston. He only had his carry-on, so no waiting for luggage to arrive. He located the driver of the car service holding up a sign with his name on it, and followed him out to the town car at the curb.

  “Where would you like to go, Mr. Whitcomb? Home? Or to the hospital?”

  Home. It wasn’t his home. Hadn’t been for a long time. “Might as well go right to the hospital. Thanks.”

  He watched the city sights slide by as they drove from the airport to the hospital in the spring evening, familiar even after all the years away.

  His mom had texted him during the day that they’d done some blood tests and EKG testing and the angioplasty was scheduled for tomorrow, and she’d given him his father’s room number at the hospital. As he walked the corridors and rode the elevator, his intestines twisted into ever tighter knots and his muscles tensed. His steps stiffened and slowed. He paused outside the room, pushed back his shoulders, and stepped into the private room, to find both his parents there, Mother sitting beside the bed, Dad in the bed looking pale and drawn. The hospital room was like a luxury hotel, with framed pictures on the walls, attractive draperies over the windows, and a lamp sitting on an oak bedside table.

  “Beck.” Mother rose and moved toward him. Dressed in black pants and a gray silky cardigan over a heavy silk, pale gray blouse, she did in fact look as elegant and poised as ever. He caught the hint of tightness at the corners of her eyes though, and the stiffness of her smile. They embraced politely. “Thank you for coming.”

  “Of course.”

  Mother moved away and Beck’s attention focused on his dad. He advanced closer to the bed. “Hey, Dad.”

  “Beck.” His father’s normally strong, deep voice was faint. “How are you?”

  One corner of Beck’s mouth lifted. “I’m fine. You’re the one we’re worried about.”

  “I’m good.” Dad rolled his eyes. “Just need a little procedure and I’ll be back on my feet in no time.”

  “I’m sure you will. Seems like you gave Mother a scare.” Beck glanced at his mother, still standing at the end of the bed. “Have a seat, Mother.” He gestured to the chair she’d been sitting in.

  “There’s another chair there. Pull it closer.”

  “I’ve been sitting in airports and planes all day. I’m good.”

  Well. What to say now? Beck’s gaze roved over the medical equipment in the room, including a monitor with a bunch of squiggly colored lines presumably monitoring his dad’s heart rate, oxygen, and breathing. “They’re taking good care of you here?”

  “This is the best hospital in Boston,” Mother answered. “Dr. Chow is the best heart specialist.”

  “Only the best for a Whitcomb,” Beck said dryly.

  Mother frowned. “Why wouldn’t we want the best care for him?”

  Eh, he was an asshole. “Of course he should have the best care.” He wasn’t sure why that bugged him. What made Paul Whitcomb more important than any Joe off the street? Just the fact that he had money. But the reality was, they did have money and could afford the best care, so why not? “It’s a nice room,” he added.

  “It’s a fucking hospital,” Dad said, surprising a smile out of Beck.

  “You won’t be here long,” he assured his dad. Not that he knew much about angioplasty, but he’d done some Googling while waiting at the airport and it should be straightforward, with a quick recovery. The harder part might be the lifestyle changes his dad would have to make after. Dad wasn’t obese by any stretch, but had thickened around the middle. He probably drank too much and didn’t exercise, and he most definitely worked too much.

  Damn, that wasn’t guilt that made his chest tighten, was it?

  “How was your flight?” Mother asked.

  “Long.” Now he did grab the other chair, a stylish beige leather one, and pulled it closer to his mother’s. “And boring.”

  “How long can you stay?” Dad asked.

  “A few days.”

  “That’s all?” Mom asked.

  “Do you really want me here any longer than that?”

  “Don’t start this, Beck.”

  He swallowed a sigh. “I meant the question honestly, not in a snotty way. I’ll stay as long as I need to, but Dad should be okay in a few days, right?”

  Her lips thinned. “He’ll be okay, but he’s not going to be back to normal right away. He’ll need to take some time off work.”

  “No I won’t.” Dad spoke up, frowning.

  “Yes you will. The doctor already said you can’t keep working the kind of long hours you have been. Paul, you should be thinking about retiring. Or at least cutting way back and letting someone else take over.” She gave Beck a pointed look.

  “Why would you even think I’m capable of taking over?” Beck asked. “I got a business degree, but I spent nine years in the Navy, not running a multinational conglomerate. I know next to nothing about Whitcomb Industries.” And that’s fine with me.

  “Your father can teach you. It’s the perfect time for you to step in and for things to be transitioned over to you.”

  Beck started to say Not gonna happen, but then snapped his mouth shut. He rubbed his forehead. “I have obligations in San Diego,” he finally said. “A business to run there. I can’t let down Cade and Marco.”

  But the truth was, they could run Conquistadors themselves. They didn’t need him. They’d still want to repay the money he’d provided to help them get started and that would be tough, but he wouldn’t let him. And the idea of going back to San Diego and never seeing Hayden again made him want to punch a hole in the wall.

  Maybe he should stay here. Maybe it was the right thing to do.

  He didn’t say that to his parents though, knowing that even a hint that he was considering it would shove that door wide open in their minds.

  “This is your legacy,” Mother said quietly. “Your father and grandfather swore that the business would always be a private company and family-owned. There are thousands of people who rely on Whitcomb Industries for their livelihood. It seems selfish for you to stay in San Diego, running your little bar, which employs, what, ten people? While you race go-karts and surf in the ocean?”

  Beck stared at his mother. He
’d heard this before. His parents seemed to completely disregard the fact that for nine years he’d put his life on the line to serve his country. That he’d been a member of the most elite unit of the U.S. military, who all shared a willingness to sacrifice their time and their lives for a greater good. And they thought he was selfish?

  Was he being selfish?

  His brain was so fucked up just then, he couldn’t think straight. “Let’s talk about this later.”

  Chapter 22

  Hayden threw herself into work the rest of the week, and even though her mood was low and her body felt sluggish, she went to see Aunt Gina and Uncle Colin on Saturday as usual. She’d called Aunt Gina to see if there was anything she needed to pick up for them on her way and was surprised when her aunt said no, that Uncle Colin had gone to the grocery store just yesterday.

  She walked in with some of her aunt’s favorite strawberries, anyway. “Hi! It’s Hayden.”

  “On the patio, dear.”

  She walked through the kitchen to check things out on her way to her aunt. Another surprise—it was clean. Well, relatively. Not spotless, but there were no dishes or leftovers sitting on the counter and the floor had been swept and mopped.

  She stepped out onto the patio just as Aunt Gina took a few steps toward her with her walker. “Hey, you’re doing great,” Hayden said, hugging her over the walker.

  Her aunt smiled. “I am. Feeling much better. Less pain, and stronger.” She made a face. “I’d really love to get rid of this walker but I don’t know if that’s going to happen.”

  “It might. You’ve been going for your physical therapy?”

  “Yes, and they are making me work hard.” Aunt Gina sighed. “And I do my exercises at home. I have to do them. Where’s Beck?”

  Hayden’s heart bumped against her breastbone. “Oh. Uh. We aren’t seeing each other anymore.”

  “What?” Aunt Gina’s face fell. “Why? He seemed like such a nice young man.”

  Nice. There was a bland word to describe Beck. Okay, he was nice. He was also insanely charming, exciting, and fun, and so sexy he made her panties wet just thinking about him. Okay, inappropriate thoughts around her old auntie. She sighed. “Well, it wasn’t anything serious. I got some bad news at work this week and I realized I’ve been wasting way too much time on trivial things and not paying enough attention to business.”

  “Trivial things? Like a boyfriend? A relationship? Love?” Aunt Gina stared at her. “You think those things are trivial?”

  Hayden stared at her aunt.

  “Love is never trivial,” Aunt Gina added sternly.

  “It wasn’t like that with Beck and me.” Her heart squeezed.

  “Well, no, because you wouldn’t let it be. That man couldn’t take his eyes off you, Hayden. But if all you do is work, how could it be anything more?”

  “I don’t have time for anything more.”

  “Oh, sweetie. That’s no life. I know we’ve taken up your time, but I’m getting better and…well, we want to talk to you about something.”

  “Oh. Okay. Where is Uncle Colin?”

  “He’s doing laundry, if you can believe it.”

  “Wow. That’s great. It looks like there’s not even much for me to do. Here, I brought these for you.” She handed over the strawberries.

  “Oh, thank you. You’re such a sweetheart. Have a seat.”

  Hayden dropped into one of the wicker chairs. Wow, sitting and visiting with her aunt was unusual these days. Usually, when she came over she was buzzing around cleaning and cooking. “The yard looks nice, as always.”

  “It is beautiful.” Aunt Gina gazed out over the lush grass and bright flowers.

  “Oh, hi, Hayden.” Uncle Colin strolled out onto the patio. “I didn’t hear you come in.”

  She rose and moved to hug her uncle. “I snuck in.”

  He laughed and hugged her back.

  “I hear you were doing laundry.”

  “I was. I’m learning. It’s not that hard, actually.”

  Hayden smiled.

  “Would you girls like some iced tea?” Uncle Colin asked.

  Hayden frowned briefly, glanced at her aunt, then said, “Sure. Want me to get it?”

  “No, no. You sit. I’ll get it. Then we can talk.”

  Huh. What was going on? Hayden smiled and sat again.

  “How is work going?” Aunt Gina asked.

  Hayden sighed, and related the news about losing out on the funding. She rubbed the back of her neck, which had developed rocklike knots. “So that’s why I had to end things with Beck.”

  “What?” Uncle Colin returned with three glasses of tea. “End things with Beck? Why?”

  Here they went again. “It was distracting me from work,” she said briefly. “So what did you want to talk about?”

  Uncle Colin sat too, and he and Aunt Gina exchanged glances. “We’ve been talking a lot this week and we’ve decided we’re going to sell the house.”

  Hayden’s jaw fell. “What? Really?”

  “Yes.”

  “But your yard…”

  “I know.” Uncle Colin rubbed his forehead. “It pains me to have to leave it. But this week…well, after talking to your young man last week, I did some hard thinking.”

  “You mean Beck?”

  “Yes. We had a little talk out here one day, and he made me think. It’s been hard for Gina since her fall, and it’s been hard for you, trying to help us on top of all your other responsibilities. And I’ve been…well, in denial, I guess, that things are changing. Hiding in my yard, working on the lawn and the shrubs and the pond…when what I should have been doing was stepping up to help out with my share of things inside the house.”

  Hayden gazed at her uncle wordlessly. Wow.

  “So this week, I learned to do laundry, and tried to keep on top of the dishes. Gina helped me make some easy things for dinner. Between the two of us we managed. But hell, it’s a lot of work, and I didn’t even attempt to clean the bathrooms.” He grimaced. “Scrubbing a toilet’s not my idea of fun.”

  “I don’t think it’s anyone’s idea of fun.” Hayden smiled. “You said before that you could afford to hire someone to come in once every week or two, to do some of that, but you didn’t want some stranger in your house. Would you reconsider that?”

  “Yeah. Even if we sell the house, we’re going to need to make sure it’s spic-and-span to show it. We’re thinking about moving to one of those seniors’ complexes—where they make your meals and clean for you. But we’d have our own apartment.”

  “Oh my God, really?” Hayden sank back into the chair in relief. “That would be so great for you.”

  “Would you help us look at some of them?” Aunt Gina asked. “I hate to bother you, because you’ve done so much already, but it’s a little overwhelming.”

  “Of course I will! Do you maybe want Jeff and John to come and have a look before you decide?”

  “I don’t think we need them to see it.” Aunt Gina pursed her lips. “But I think we’ll ask them to come help us move. We have to get rid of a lot of stuff.”

  Now Hayden felt a little overwhelmed. Much as she’d wanted this for them, there was a lot of work to be done to make it happen. Getting rid of a lifetime’s worth of possessions was not going to be easy. And yes, her cousins needed to step up and help out. But somehow it would get done.

  “You’re okay with giving up your yard, Uncle Colin?”

  “Not really.” His smile was wry. “But I think there are places that have patios or grounds where I could putter around. I’ll plant some big pots, or something.”

  “I’m sure there are. Should we go online and look?”

  Her aunt and uncle had a computer, though they didn’t use it much. They emailed with their sons, and Aunt Gina had been learning more about Facebook since being laid up, but that was about it. Hayden could search for places on her phone, but that might not be best for them. So they moved inside and into the main floor room that had b
een turned into an office.

  She booted up the computer, smiling at the ancient monitor, and they spent some time perusing various possibilities. They narrowed it down to a few choices that they’d like to go see and Hayden said she’d make some calls and get things set up, maybe for next weekend.

  Now that she didn’t have anything else taking up her weekends, it would be easier.

  But why did that make her feel like her chest was hollow and she had no energy to even move?

  She drove home later that afternoon, looking forward to her empty condo and the work she had to do as much as she’d look forward to giving a speech in front of ten thousand people, naked. Or jumping out of a plane. Normally, her work excited her. It had been her only passion…until Beck showed her what real passion was like. She still loved her work, but now it didn’t seem quite enough to fill her life. The laughter and thrill, sparkle and color he’d brought to her life was missing, leaving her feeling dull and empty. Bleak.

  He’d somehow convinced Uncle Colin to step up and do more. And he’d made Uncle Colin realize that leaving the house had to be done—it was the unselfish thing, for Aunt Gina, knowing she wasn’t going to fully recover from her broken hip, knowing now how much work it was to keep the house in order, knowing that for his wife he had to give up something. And maybe even for her, Hayden.

  What had Beck said to him?

  Damn. She owed him for that. She owed him huge for that. She wished she could talk to him and tell him so.

  She had to quit thinking about Beck.

  She stopped at EVO to get something for dinner. She didn’t feel like cooking. As she picked up her Thai tofu salad wrap and a smoothie made of orange and pineapple juice and coconut milk, she turned around and came face-to-face with Marco.

  “Oh!” She blinked. “Um, hi, Marco.”

  “Hayden.” His smile was warm. Apparently, he didn’t hate her for breaking up with his friend. “How are you?”