Chapter 28
“Believe in me, please? Can you do that?”—Jack Wheyton
“Thanks for coming out tonight, Audra. I know you might feel awkward, considering your history with Jack”—Leslie pulled a smile across her lips—“but I want you to know, I’m okay with it.”
Audra dropped a forkful of Eartha’s apple cobbler midway to her mouth. It clanged on the red Formica table, spewing chunks of apple on Leslie’s left hand. “Oh! I’m so sorry.” She snatched a napkin from the silver dispenser and dabbed at Leslie’s hand.
“Isn’t this ring the most beautiful thing you’ve ever seen? Two carats. Marquis cut. Jack picked it out all by himself.” She sighed and lifted her hand, aiming it at the red-globed light above the table. “Look at the clarity. It’s magnificent.” She tucked her hand against her middle and said, “I can’t wait to be his wife. I’ve been planning the wedding almost since the day I met him. You know how sometimes you just know it’s the right one? I felt it from the beginning, this incredible animal magnetism that pulled us together. It was overpowering.” She smiled and murmured, “We didn’t get out of bed for four days.”
Audra refused to picture that. “How lucky for you.”
“It’s not just the sex,” Leslie went on, “though that’s undeniably one of his favorite pastimes. Being around Jack is like being around a forest fire.” She laughed. “Constant heat. We’re going to start looking at houses, possibly to renovate. I love Victorians and Jack’s so good with his hands”—again the smile—“and he’s very creative. Of course, I’ll probably sublet my place and move in with him until after the honeymoon. We’re thinking Spain or Italy, but it depends on his schedule.” She paused and patted Audra’s hand. “Here I am gushing on and on about me. I’m sorry. This is not all about me and my happy day. How are you doing?”
Audra avoided her gaze. “Getting by.”
“We all encounter difficult times, but none greater than what the Lord deems us capable of handling. At least that’s what my father says.” She patted Audra’s hand again. “Things will get better.”
“Thank you.”
“I just want you to know, I’ll try real hard to be a good stepmother.” She leaned forward and whispered, “Jack told me the truth.”
“What?”
“He told me about Kara.”
Audra fought to keep her breathing even. “I see.” Of course, Jack should tell his fiancé about his child, but on some bizarre level, it felt like a betrayal.
“Jack never wanted children but now he’s all caught up in being a father. He’s so confused. I think the best thing would be for you and Kara to go back to San Diego and move on with your lives. Kara can visit in the summer and on breaks which will give Jack time to ease into the father role. More than that and people will start asking why Uncle Jack is spending so much time with his niece, unless the rumors were true after all.”
“He’s okay with this?” That was hard to believe.
A slow smile slipped across Leslie’s face. “He will be. I can be very persuasive.”
No doubt she could be. But still, this did not sound like Jack’s idea. “He was pretty insistent about wanting to be part of Kara’s life. I don’t know if he’ll settle for seasonal visits.”
“You let me worry about that, okay? Go back to your sun and the fabulous Dr. Perfection and I’ll take care of my fiancé.”
***
Kara placed the stamp on the envelope and held it up to her mother. “Is the stamp even enough?”
“It’s perfect.”
“Betty Crocker Best Bread Contest, here I come.” Kara scooted off the kitchen chair and headed for the front door. “I’ll put this in the mailbox and then we can make oatmeal chocolate chip cookies for Mrs. Kirkshorn’s son.”
Alice laughed and lifted the flour from the cupboard. “Don’t forget the batch you promised Mrs. Fitzpatrick. Grandpa will want his share, too, though Lord knows he doesn’t need any.”
“We can make cookies for everybody!” Kara shouted, waving her hands in the air, her blond curls bouncing around her shoulders. Holly Springs Elementary school started in six days but if the talk with Jack went well tonight, Kara’s first day would be in San Diego. “Be right back.” She tore out the front door with a skip and a shout.
“You’d never know she just had brain surgery,” Alice said.
Audra nodded. “She’s doing very well.” With the exception of a four-inch scar at the base of her neck, a person wouldn’t know Kara’s whole life had changed from what it had been last summer.
“I’m truly enjoying her company,” Alice said, measuring flour into a bowl. “And Joe’s certainly thrilled to have a devoted follower. My heavens, some days I wonder if they’ll ever stop discussing that darn soap.”
Audra ventured a smile. “Should I end their guessing and just tell them who the father is?”
“Oh, no!” Alice smiled in a way that reminded Audra of Christian. “You have no idea how irate Joe gets when he reads snippets in Soap Digest, which he insists on buying and then curses when he figures out the plot. I told him to stay away from those magazines if he doesn’t want someone to spill the beans but I might as well be talking to this cup of flour.”
Alice and Joe Wheyton would miss Kara but they’d still see her on holidays and summer vacations. Audra had already decided Kara needed time with her grandparents and her father and planned to see that happened. If Jack agreed. Leslie had sounded certain of her persuasive abilities and though Audra didn’t want to know the details behind them, she hoped they worked. Life moved on. Jack was getting married. It was time to go home.
“Audra, will you tell Kara the cookies won’t wait for her? I hear Zak barking and I’ll bet that’s where she is. She wants her own dog you know.”
“I know.” Audra moved toward the front door. “And her own cat, and a guinea pig, and a rat!” She stepped onto the front porch and headed next door where Kara’s latest obsession, a three year old Labrador retriever, lived. She followed the direction of the bark and found Zak standing over Kara who knelt in the grass with her hands clasping the back of her head.
“Kara?” Audra dropped to the ground and leaned over her daughter. “What’s wrong?”
Kara straightened her arms and held out her hands. “My head’s all wet.”
Panic choked out thought as the words sunk in. Audra looked from her daughter’s hands to the back of her head. She had to get Jack. Now. “I’m going to call Uncle Jack.” She wobbled to her feet and held out a hand. “Let’s go inside.”
“But I want to play with Zak.”
“Not now, Kara.”
“Mom?”
“What?”
“Why are you crying?”
***
Jack got the call at 1:40 p.m. He’d just finished operating on a ten year old and needed a shower and a sandwich. Audra’s panicked voice made him forget everything, even common sense as he tore through the halls to the ER, desperate to get to his daughter. His daughter. The enormity of it struck him. She had a cerebral spinal fluid leak, possibly from a loose stitch and there was only one way to fix it.
“She needs another surgery.” He pulled Audra from the crowd that had gathered for Kara—his parents, the neighbors next door, the coffee klatch, even Leslie sat with them, waiting for word.
“Surgery?”
He’d seen that impossible look filtering over the faces of many a parent. They could accept one surgery, but two, three, four? How many were they expected to bear? He never had an answer because there wasn’t one. “We’ve got to repair the leak.” The longer Kara leaked fluid, the greater the risk for meningitis. He could not lose another loved one that way. Audra leaned against the wall and closed her eyes. Her breath fell in tiny puffs as though she were trying to keep the truth from invading her brain and metastasizing to the rest of her body. “Audra?” He wanted to take her in his arms and comfort her. “I’ll do everything I can.”
She shook her head, tears see
ping from her eyelids. “What if it’s not enough?”
“Don’t.” He brushed a tear from her cheek. “Please, don’t.” Jack leaned closer, until they were almost touching. “You’ve got to believe in her.” And then, “Believe in me. Please. Can you do that?”
She opened her eyes and he stared into their whiskey softness, willing himself not to touch her. “Yes,” she whispered. “I know you’ll do everything to help our child.”
He did touch her then, pulling her into his arms and burying his face in her hair. “I’m sorry about everything. So damn sorry.” Sorry I never knew about Kara. Sorry I ever let you go. Sorry it took a near tragedy to realize I’ll never be over you.
“Jack.” Leslie tapped him on the shoulder in a no-nonsense manner. He lifted his head to meet her cold stare, her tight smile. “Surgery called. They’re ready.”
Chapter 29
“Once Jack marries Leslie, we’ll be practically related.”—Grant Richot
The next three hours were a blur of beepers, monitors, phone calls, and empty coffee cups. Father Benedict spent hours with them, praying for Kara’s recovery. Audra had grown used to the man she’d once believed walked next to God and later learned had a closer affiliation with the tormented. To their great relief, Jack located the leak and repaired the loose stitch. Kara’s prognosis was good. Her vitals were stable. Alice and Joe actually nibbled a few bits of turkey sandwich. Audra counted the minutes until she could visit ICU again. Amazing how a person’s life could be cut into segments, like an orange, with pith and all. Good part, bad part. Sweet and bitter.
She’d called Peter once they wheeled Kara into surgery and he insisted on catching the next flight out. She couldn’t worry about who might be angry with whom or whose feelings would be hurt with his arrival. They all needed to concentrate on Kara and her recovery and maybe with enough prayers and a good dose of luck, she’d lead a normal life or as normal as a person with her condition could, which according to Jack, could be filled with possibility and opportunity.
Jack. When he’d walked out of surgery he’d headed straight for her. Lines of exhaustion etched the corners of his mouth when he spoke. “We were able to repair the leak. She’s groggy but her vitals are good.” And then he’d smiled at her, one of those rare, genuine smiles that squeezed her stomach and made her forget why things could never work between them.
“Thank you.” Such an inadequate word.
The smile stretched. “You’re welcome.”
The elevator opened and Grant and Leslie emerged carrying a tray of sandwiches and a pot of coffee. Their steps faltered when they spotted Jack tucking a lock of hair behind Audra’s ear.
“I heard you have a soft spot for chicken salad croissants,” Grant said, addressing Audra. “You have no idea how many strings I had to pull to get this.”
“Thank you,” Audra said, stepping away from Jack. “You really shouldn’t have gone to the trouble.”
“Hey, nothing’s too good for my future sister-in-law.” He threw a challenge at Jack. “Once Jack marries Leslie, we’ll practically be related.”
“If everything comes together as planned, that will be sooner rather than later.” Leslie clasped Jack’s arm and flattened her voluptuous figure against him. “Maybe even by Thanksgiving,” she murmured, kissing his neck.
Audra looked away. An angry Jack Wheyton was so much easier to deal with than one who exuded compassion and concern.
“I can handle a Thanksgiving wedding,” Grant said as he unwrapped a croissant and handed it to Audra. “But you better tell Dad about it so he can work on his sermon. Where is he anyway? I can’t believe he’d let Father Benedict beat him to the waiting room.”
Bartholomew Benedict cleared his throat and stood. “I offered to pick your father up on my way here, but he complained of a terrible case of indigestion and said he’d pray from home.”
“Darn that man.” Leslie scrunched up her face and scowled. “It’s his diverticulitis acting up again. If he followed his diet, he wouldn’t have these problems. No seeds means no seeds.”
“Just because he’s a man of God doesn’t mean he’s not stubborn,” Grant said. “I’ll check on him later. Mr. and Mrs. Wheyton, would you care for a chicken salad croissant?”
***
When the doorbell rang the next morning, August considered ignoring it. His housekeeper, Glynnis, had called earlier to say her baby had an ear infection and she wouldn’t be in today, which left no one to answer phone calls and doorbells. He pinched a dead flower from a double pink African violet and crumpled it between his fingers. He knew who it was before he opened the door. Hadn’t all these weeks been leading to this very meeting? Hadn’t his cryptic message the last time he saw her left her with enough questions to return? And hadn’t that been what he’d wanted all along?
He eased open the heavy walnut door and forced a smile. “Audra. What an unexpected surprise. Won’t you come in?” She looked tired and pale, no doubt from lack of sleep and worry.
She followed him into the study and sat in the same chair as her last visit. “I’m sorry I didn’t phone first.” Her words were slow, her movements awkward. “I was afraid you might not see me and I couldn’t take the chance.”
August rubbed the dried violet between his fingers and eased into his chair. “I would never refuse to see you.” Even though I hoped you wouldn’t come back.
“Thank you.”
Determination flushed her face in a manner that told him she would not be leaving without answers. “I’m very sorry to hear about your daughter. She will remain in my prayers.” He opened his fingers and let the violet remains flutter to the carpeted floor.
“My daughter is the reason I’m here. Jack said any information we can piece together will help Kara. Please, I know I’m asking you to go against your vows but this is a child’s life we’re talking about. I wouldn’t tell anyone but Jack, I swear. I’ve got to help my child,” she said, her voice full of desperation. “Please.”
August turned and lifted his most prized African violet from its lone stand. It was a double white amidst a forest of pine-colored, furry leaves. Truly magnificent. Bartholomew had given it to him five Easters ago in a three-inch pot which had since expanded by two sizes. He fingered the stark whiteness of a large bloom, tracing the edges with delicate precision. Then he pinched the head from its stem and laid it on the desk. “Beautiful, isn’t it?” he said. “Such perfection. Such innocence. By tomorrow it will have withered to brown nothingness, as indistinguishable as a dead leaf.” He lifted his gaze to hers. “What I tell you will destroy people and it won’t take twenty-four hours to do it. Are you certain you want that?”
“I don’t have a choice. We’re talking about my daughter’s life.”
“Of course, you would do anything to help her, I can see that. You’re an admirable woman, Audra. You possess great courage and strength, just like your mother.” He severed another bloom from its stem and placed it beside the first. “Corrine came to me shortly after she visited Father Benedict. She’d gone to him over a boy.” He fingered the violet heads on his desk, tracing their velvet petals. “The boy wanted to press advances on her and she resisted. Said it was impure and against her religion. The problem was she didn’t really want to resist and it troubled her. Father Benedict handled it badly.”
“Yes, so he said.”
“Poor man. It was a simple kiss, yet he tortured himself over it for decades. Others did far worse to Corrine.”
“My father, for instance?”
He plucked three more blooms. “Have you ever noticed how beauty can be destroyed so abominably with a few thoughtless gestures?” He pointed to the half-beheaded violet plant. “Corrine was like this violet. Pure. Beautiful. Trusting. And he destroyed her.”
“Tell me about him.”
Her words swiped him like a razor against his jugular, forcing the truth from him. “He was thirty-two at the time with a wife and two children. She swept him away with her innoce
nt trust and startling beauty. His life had grown stagnant, his duties to family and job overwhelming and mundane. There were always expectations and demands but with her, he could be himself. With her, he could explore a love so true and fresh it humbled and exalted. It wasn’t that he didn’t care about his wife, but after years of battling a difficult relationship, this unexpected second chance swept over him, fierce and uncontrollable. Fool that he was, he tossed logic aside and clutched at this hope of love that was as doomed as it was irresistible. They didn’t have to sneak to see one another. He, being such a stalwart citizen in the community would never cause suspicion.” He snapped a violet leaf, then another until he’d massacred six and tossed them beside the withering flowers. “Are you certain you want to hear the rest?”
When she nodded, he continued. “For three months they lived in their private haven as student to teacher, friend to friend, and inevitably, lover to lover. Then she became pregnant. She wanted him to leave the wife who had stopped being a true wife years before. She said they could start a life together with their baby. He tried to tell her she was too young to understand the workings of an adult world that didn’t condone married men in his position impregnating young girls, even if they did love them. But she wouldn’t listen. When he refused to divorce his wife, she vowed to sleep with every man in town until she erased his touch. And she tried.” Tears slipped freely down his cheeks and onto his chin. “Every time he learned of a new man it gouged his heart, tore at his soul.”
Her face paled, her voice shook. “What are you saying?”
“He never stopped loving her, Audra. Not for one second of one day. God may send him straight to hell but he loved your mother with a fierceness he’d never known before. What I’m telling you, is I’m that man.”
Her beautiful face filled with shock then horror. “You’re my father?”
Pulling Home (That Second Chance) Page 20
