To a Macallister Born

by Joan Elliott Pickart

  “You’re welcome. I’ll see you later.” Ben crossed the room and stopped at the doorway. “Go back to doing what you were when I interrupted. I’d write a prescription for that jazz if I could. It cures a lot of ills. ’Bye.”

  “’Bye,” Jennifer said, then added to Jack, “So much for keeping our relationship a secret.” She paused. “Well, so be it. The important thing is that Joey is all right. Let’s go to the children’s wing and wait for him in his room. Okay?”

  “Absolutely,” Jack said, pulling her close. “But first, I believe that people should always follow doctor’s orders.”

  “Do tell,” Jennifer said, smiling.

  “I show much better than I tell,” he said, lowering his head toward hers.

  “Prove it.”

  “I will.”

  And he did.

  Chapter Ten

  Joey Mackane was not a happy patient.

  He had a nagging headache from the anesthesia, his tummy hurt, he did not like the intravenous needle that had been inserted and taped into place on the back of his hand, nor the bars on the sides of his bed that made him feel, he whined, like a “dumb baby.” The hospital smelled funny, and he wanted to go home. Now.

  It was a very long, exhausting day.

  Jennifer selected several books from the cart a candy striper produced, but Joey pouted and complained through the reading of each one that he’d heard that story before and it was dumb, dumb, dumb.

  Jack went to the hospital gift shop and returned with a coloring book and crayons, but Joey rejected the offering, stating that his crayon box at home had a sharpener attached. Crayon boxes without sharpeners were really dumb.

  In the early evening, the surgeon and Ben paid a visit and the I.V. was removed from Joey’s hand.

  After the doctors had gone, a nurse arrived with a dish of green Jell-O. She swung the table over in front of Joey and placed the dish and a spoon in front of him. “Enjoy,” she said, smiling, then left the room.

  “I hate dumb green Jell-O,” Joey said, flinging one hand through the air. The dish went flying, splashing green jelly over the blanket on the bed.

  “Oh, Joey,” Jennifer said, getting to her feet from the chair next to the bed. “That wasn’t a nice thing to do. We’ll have to get a different blanket now and—Please, sweetheart, calm down. Okay?”

  “No, no, no,” Joey yelled. “I hate this place. I hate green Jell-O. I hate you, too, Mom, ’cause you won’t take me home right now. I hate you. I hate you.”

  It was too much, it really was. The worry, the stress, the seemingly endless hours attempting to make Joey happy caught up with Jennifer in an emotional rush. She spun around as tears filled her eyes, and pressed trembling fingertips to her lips.

  “That’s it,” Jack said. He rose from the chair he’d been slouched in across the room and strode to the bed, moving past Jennifer to bend over and look directly into Joey’s eyes.

  “Listen up, my friend,” he said sternly. “I’ve sat in this room all day while you’ve whined and fussed, and I’ve had enough. I know what you’ve been through isn’t fun, but you’re going to be fine. There are kids in this hospital who are very, very sick, Joey, but you aren’t one of them. You’ll be as good as new in time to celebrate Thanksgiving.

  “I thought you were my pal, my partner,” he continued. “What happened to the big boy who has been helping repair things at the house all week? All I can see is a kid who is whining like a baby.”

  Jennifer turned around. “Jack, don’t. Joey is—”

  “Joey is going to shape up right now,” Jack went on, still looking at the little boy. “Aren’t you, sport? You’re also going to apologize to your mother for saying that you hate her. Are you my buddy, or not?” He extended his hand toward Joey. “Make up your mind.”

  Joey looked at Jack’s hand, at his face, then back at his hand. He lifted his own little hand and placed it in Jack’s big one. “I still want to be your buddy, Jack,” Joey said quietly.

  Jack wrapped his fingers around Joey’s hand. “And?” Jack said. “What do you have to say to your mother?”

  “I’m sorry, Mommy,” Joey said. “I don’t hate you. I love you more than the whole wide world. I hate green Jell-O, but that’s okay, ’cause you didn’t cook it for me. I won’t act like a baby brat anymore. I promise.”

  “Oh, Joey,” Jennifer said, sniffling. “I love you, too, so much. I know this has all been very frightening for you and—”

  “Actually,” Jack interrupted, releasing Joey’s hand, “it’s very cool, sport. You get to eat in bed and watch television, and you don’t have to do your chores while you’re here. I’m going to ship you out and crawl in that bed myself.”

  Joey laughed. “You can’t do that, Jack. This is my bed. Can I do the remote control for the TV?”

  Jack picked up the remote from the side table and handed it to Joey. “Go for it,” Jack said. “You can channel surf until they tell you it’s time to go to sleep. I’m taking your mom home now because she’s really tired.”

  “’Kay.” Joey’s attention was riveted on the television mounted on a platform high on the far wall. He whizzed through the channels. “Zoom. Zoom.”

  “Jack,” Jennifer said, glaring at him, “I’m staying with Joey until he falls asleep.”

  “No, you are not,” Jack said, folding his arms over his chest. “Have you looked in the mirror lately? You’re pale, have dark smudges beneath your eyes and—Jennifer, you’re dead on your feet. Kiss Joey good-night, then I’m taking you home.”

  Jennifer narrowed her eyes and planted her hands on her hips. “How dare you try to take control of my life, my decisions, my—my person, like some kind of dictator on a macho trip?” she said none too quietly. “You have no right to—”

  “Mom,” Joey said, “could you yell at Jack kinda quieter, please? I can’t hear the TV.”

  “Yeah,” Jack said, grinning at Jennifer. “Yell at me kinda quieter. You are in a hospital, you know. There are rules about quieter yelling.”

  “Oh, good grief,” Jennifer said, dropping her face into her hands. “I don’t believe this.”

  “Zoom. Zoom,” Joey said, still zipping through the channels on the television.

  Jack eased Jennifer’s hands from her face with a gentle touch, and she lifted her head slowly to meet his gaze.

  “I’m not attempting to control your life, Jennifer,” he said quietly. “I’m taking a stand here because I care about you. I’m trying to do what’s best for you as I see it.”

  He paused. “And for Joey, too. If someone didn’t pull the plug on his behavior, he would have kept it up and been completely convinced that he was miserable. This isn’t a macho trip, it’s a caring trip. Okay?”

  Fresh tears filled Jennifer’s eyes and she sighed. “’Kay.”

  “Good,” Jack said. “Kiss Joey good-night.”

  Jennifer did as instructed, then Jack and Joey exchanged a high five.

  “I’ll call Grandma and Grandpa in Phoenix,” Jennifer said to her son, “and tell them what happened and what a brave, big boy you are.”

  “Don’t tell them ’bout the baby bratty part,” Joey said, frowning.

  “No, I won’t sweetheart. Good night.”

  “’Night, Mom. ’Night, Jack.”

  “See you tomorrow, buddy,” Jack said.

  “Zoom. Zoom,” Joey said, his attention once again on the television.

  In Jennifer’s living room, Jack stood just inside the closed front door, but didn’t remove his jacket when Jennifer tossed her coat over the back of the sofa.

  “I take it that you’re still mad as hell at me,” Jack said. “You haven’t said even one word since we left Joey’s room.”

  Jennifer sank onto the sofa, leaned her head back and stared at the ceiling. “I don’t know what I’m feeling,” she said softly. “Mad as hell at you for taking control of the situation? Experiencing warm fuzzies for your caring enough to do it? I just don’t know. It’s al
l very confusing, and I’m much too tired to even attempt to figure it out.”

  “Would you like me to go so you can get some rest?” Jack asked, remaining by the door.

  Jennifer got to her feet slowly, then turned and looked at Jack. “What if I don’t know the answer to that, either?” she said.

  “We flip a coin?” he said, smiling. Then his smile faded and he shoved his hands into his jacket pockets. “I don’t want to leave you tonight, Jennifer, if my vote counts for anything. It’s been a long, grueling, pretty frightening day, but…well, we did it, we got through it…together. I want to finish this day with you, hold you until you fall asleep, know for certain that you’re getting the rest you need. I’m not pushing for making love—I just want to hold you close, be with you. Be here for you.”

  And she, Jennifer thought, with a flash of panic, she was…Oh, God, slowly but surely falling in love with Jack MacAllister. He was chipping away, piece by emotional piece, at her protective wall, crumbling it into dust.

  No, no, no, this mustn’t happen. She’d promised herself, vowed, she’d never love again, never trust a man enough again to lose her heart to him.

  To fall deeply in love with Jack MacAllister…if she hadn’t already…oh, she didn’t want to know the true depths of her blossoming love for him. Jack was guaranteed heartbreak because he was walking out of her life in a handful of weeks. To be gone forever.

  She had to send him away. Now. Right now. She had to rebuild her wall quickly, quickly, and ignore whatever messages her heart might be whispering. She had to protect herself from Jack and—heaven help her—from herself.

  “Jennifer?” Jack said. “Talk to me. Do you want me to leave?”

  Yes! her mind screamed.

  “No,” she heard herself say, an echo of tears in her voice. “No, I don’t want to…to be alone.”

  Jack nodded, then began to unbutton his jacket while still looking directly at Jennifer. Quicksand, he thought suddenly. He was being pulled deeper and deeper into Jennifer’s life, her world.

  Emotional quicksand, that was what it was, and he wasn’t doing one damn thing to free himself.

  He was, in fact, doing exactly the opposite. He’d felt the knot in his gut dissolve when Jennifer had said she wanted him to stay. He’d made his heartfelt statement, then waited with a sense of dread that she’d send him away to spend a lonely night at Hamilton House.

  What was he doing? He’d experienced flashes of doubt regarding Jennifer’s true agenda, wondering if he’d once again misjudged a woman and was being played for a fool.

  But in between? Hell, he was scrambling for the right words to express his honest caring, his sincere desire to stand by her side during this crisis with Joey.

  Zoom, he thought dryly. His brain was doing what Joey was with the television remote. Zooming around with no rhyme or reason, making no sense, driving him crazy.

  “I need to call my parents,” Jennifer said, bringing Jack back to attention.

  Jack shrugged out of his jacket and set it next to Jennifer’s coat on the back of the sofa. “Okay,” he said. “Do you want me to start a fire in the hearth, or would you prefer to go right to bed and get some rest?”

  “I’m too wired to sleep. A fire would be nice.” Jennifer paused. “Are you hungry? Those sandwiches you brought us from the hospital cafeteria weren’t great. I could fix us some—”

  “No,” he said. “I’m fine. Don’t worry about me, Jennifer. We’re concentrating on you tonight, and that doesn’t include your cooking anything.”

  “This is my night?” she said, smiling slightly. “Like I won the lottery or something?”

  “Or something,” he said, chuckling. “Go call your folks, but leave out the part about Joey acting rotten. You promised him you wouldn’t blow the whistle on him.”

  Jennifer cocked her head to one side and studied Jack intently.

  “What?” he said finally.

  “How did you know that the time had come to get firm with Joey? I’m his mother, and I was practically standing on my head in an attempt to please him, make him happy, and failing miserably. You just knew what needed to be done. How? Why?”

  Jack shrugged and walked to the fireplace. He hunkered down in front of it, opened the screen and began to place kindling on the grate.

  “You are definitely a natural-born father,” Jennifer said, starting across the room. “I’ll go telephone my parents.”

  Jack’s head snapped around and he watched Jennifer disappear from view. He looked at the grate again, then threw some kindling onto it with more force than was necessary.

  There it was again, he thought, that zinger of Jennifer’s that he was a natural-born father, only this time she’d added an emphatic definitely. Damn it, where was she going with that nonsense? What foundation was she putting in place?

  Ah, MacAllister, give it a rest, Jack told himself, setting a log on the kindling. He’d had a long day, too, and had been scared to death during that drive to the hospital with a crying Joey.

  The wait during the surgery hadn’t been a picnic, either. He was beat, and had no business now attempting to get a handle on what Jennifer might be after. He wasn’t going to think about it any more tonight. Not tonight.

  Jack struck a match, started the fire, then closed the screen. He moved backward to lean against the sofa, knees bent, his wrists dangling over them. He stared into the now leaping flames and began to feel himself relax, his muscles loosen.

  That Joey was something, he thought, smiling. He’d had Jennifer jumping through hoops for hours on end at the hospital. Any kid would continue to push buttons on a parent that he hadn’t been allowed to push before.

  Well, he’d called a halt to Joey’s performance. Enough had been enough. Joey had seemed almost relieved to be told to knock it off, had been more than ready to be his usual, smiling self. Zoom. Zoom. Give a kid a remote control and all was right in the world of being five years old.

  How had he known that it was time to pull the plug on Joey’s act? How had he, bachelor extraordinaire, sensed that a firm stand was needed to get Joey squared away?

  Jack frowned. Well, hell, maybe he was a natural-born father. A father. That was a role he never intended to have because it would include getting married, being a husband, actually believing he’d chosen the right woman to be his life’s partner.

  Nope. No way. Not with his track record of misjudging the honesty, the realness, of every woman he’d ever been in a relationship with. He was a complete dud when it came to being able to see the true colors of members of the female species.

  Including Jennifer Mackane?

  Don’t go there, he ordered himself. Not tonight. He wasn’t diving into that muddled part of his brain when he was weary to the bone. He was just going to sit here and enjoy the fire. Enjoy being with Jennifer. Be here for her after her long, exhausting day.

  “What a lovely fire,” Jennifer said, coming back into the room. “Would you like some brandy?”

  Jack accepted the small snifter that Jennifer was offering him, then she sat down next to him on the floor, holding a snifter of her own.

  “When I talked to my dad,” she said, “he reminded me that he’d left a bottle of brandy on the top shelf of one of the kitchen cupboards. He said it sounded like it was time to open it and relax after the day I’d had.”

  “Smart man.” Jack lifted his snifter. “Cheers, and all that good stuff.”

  Jennifer clinked her glass against Jack’s, then they each took a sip of the amber liquid.

  “Nice,” Jack said, nodding. “Very smooth.”

  “Goodness,” Jennifer said, then coughed. “This is potent. One little sip warmed me all the way down to my toes.” She laughed. “My mother asked me if Joey was being a good patient. I did a couple of ‘Well, um…Well, sort of…’ and my mom fell apart laughing.”

  “Why?”

  “She said I might have been ten when I had my appendix out, but I acted about three years old. I fuss
ed, fumed, and—to quote—was an Olympic-form brat. That went on until my father told me that babies went to bed very, very early and that could be arranged for me when I got home from the hospital. I turned into little Miss Sunshine in the next instant.”

  Jack chuckled. “So, Joey inherited that gene from you, huh?”

  “I’m afraid so,” she said, smiling. “My father put an end to my pitch-a-fit, just like you did with Joey. You fellas sure are wise.”

  “Right,” Jack said, an edge to his voice. He took a deep swallow of the brandy. “Natural-born fathers.”

  Jennifer looked at Jack and frowned. “You sound angry all of a sudden, Jack. Did I miss something here?”

  Jack sighed. “No, forget it. I’m just tired.” He extended one arm toward Jennifer. “Come here.”

  She scooted close to him, and he caressed her arm as she rested her head on his shoulder. They finished the rich brandy in silence, then Jack set the snifters on the floor next to him. They still didn’t speak as they stared into the flames, allowing themselves to be semi-hypnotized—not thinking, just relaxing.

  “Mmm,” Jennifer said finally. “This is much better. I think I may live, after all. What a grueling day.”

  “Yep.”

  “Thank you for everything, Jack. I can’t begin to express—”

  “Then don’t try,” he interrupted, “because it isn’t necessary.” He kissed her on the forehead. “I was where I wanted to be today. I’m where I want to be tonight. Enough said.”

  “Okay.”

  This is my night, Jennifer thought, suddenly recalling her earlier conversation with Jack. Well, she wasn’t going to spend it beating herself up for having lost her heart to Jack MacAllister. Nor would she use these hours to determine just how deeply she was in love with him.

  That she was going to cry in the lonely, dark hours of the night when Jack was gone was now a given. But how badly shattered her heart would be was something she didn’t have the energy to deal with now.

  No, this was her night to do with as she wished, to put her wants and needs absolutely, positively first.

  And she wanted to make love with Jack.