by Carol Henry
“For your own sanity? I suggest you start making plans. The sooner the better. At least start looking.”
“She’s hurting. She needs more time to adjust. Besides, I haven’t found an affordable place yet.”
“Are you kidding me? With the income from McClintock and McClintock, Sebastian must be earning big bucks from the family business.”
“I don’t know. I’ve never seen his pay checks, only what he puts in our joint account at the bank.”
“Here you go, ladies. Sorry it took so long, a bit backed up.” Mrs. Sullivan gave her daughter the raised eyebrow.
“Sorry, Mom. I’ll eat fast and be right there to pitch in. Juelle has a historical society meeting tonight, so we won’t be long.”
“Don’t be a stranger, Juelle. You bring your darling girl in anytime. Waiting for Katelyn to give me grandkids is beginning to be a hopeless dream.”
“Mom! I’m not even married yet.”
“So what are you and that beau of yours waiting for?”
“Yeah, Katelyn. What are you two waiting for?”
“Not you too? Eat. You have a meeting to get to, remember?”
Chapter Three
Hunter entered the offices of Jordan and Jordan, Attorney at Law, on the corner of Birch and First Street. The receptionist, whose nameplate identified her as a Mrs. Carrie Saunders, greeted him and then pressed the intercom to announce his arrival. Mr. Jordan stepped out of his office down the hall.
“Mr. McClintock. Glad to finally meet you. Come in. Come in. Have a seat.”
Günter Jordan was a tall, stocky man with a graying, receding hairline. His smile was genuine as he shook Hunter’s hand in greeting—a firm, confident handshake. He motioned for Hunter to sit in the brown leather chair situated on the opposite side of his desk.
“I was surprised when I received your letter. In fact, it was rather a shock. I’m not sure why I’m here, but can only conclude my father—my estranged father—has died.”
Günter Jordan shut the door and took his seat next to his small, but ornate desk. The bright Maine sunshine shone through the window directly behind the lawyer. Hunter was positive the man positioned his desk in such a manner in order to be intimidating, his facial expressions shadowed and hard to read. But Hunter wasn’t about to be intimidated.
“I’m afraid you are correct in your assumption. We’ve had a hard time locating you and your mother, and now that we have, we can proceed with the reading of the will and put the family at ease.”
“I can’t believe it was so difficult to locate us. After all, my father knew exactly where my mother lived.”
“Unfortunately, the information on your location wasn’t available to us. Is your mother with you?”
“No. She isn’t able to travel at the moment.”
“I’m sorry to hear she couldn’t make the trip. I hope it isn’t anything serious.”
“No. She’ll be fine—a bit of flu, not to mention the shock of receiving your letter. Just needs to take it easy for a few weeks.”
“Again. I’m sorry.” The lawyer’s sympathy appeared genuine. He settled in his office chair, cleared his throat, and looked down at the papers on his desk. “Now, about your father—”
“He never contacted me when he was alive, I don’t see what my being here now is going to prove, other than stir things up with his current family. I assume he does have a family, am I right?”
“He does. However, be that as it may, I’m glad you are here. Hopefully, we will be able to get on with the reading of the will so his wife—his current wife—Eugenia McClintock—can deal with her current situation. Her son, Sebastian, who is your half-brother, was in a serious fishing accident several weeks ago, and is in a coma in the hospital. Although she has been anxious to deal with family issues, I have not been at liberty to divulge the contents of her husband’s will. I can understand her concern. However, as the status of McClintock and McClintock Lobster Company is in question since Hunt McClintock’s death and his son’s accident, we need to get past this as soon as possible.”
“Again, now that you know I refuse to accept anything my father may have designated for me, I fail to see why I should remain any longer. I have people counting on me back in Oahu.” The room closed in on him—he stood up to leave. He was serious—he wanted nothing from a father who had no time for him while the man was alive.
“I understand you and your mother are owners of Lani Aloha Travel Agency. That she has never remarried.”
Hunter sat back down. “I see you’ve done your homework. Impressive.”
“That is what we do. Now, for the record, your father married Eugenia Craft and they had a child—Sebastian. Your half-brother. You have no other siblings.”
Hunter wasn’t surprised. His mother had warned him his father had remarried. Still, it hurt to think this half-brother had the advantage of growing up with a father—his father. How many Father’s Days had they shared? Enjoyed?
Could his messed up family problems get any more complicated? Did he want to care that a half-brother he’d never met was in a coma?
“What is Sebastian’s prognosis?” He didn’t want to think that a part of him, family, was lying in the hospital near death. But curiosity surfaced, and as much as he was loath to accept he had a brother—a half-brother—he couldn’t help but want to rush to his side. Were there other relatives nearby? Grandparents?
“I haven’t had the official word, but it’s my understanding his condition is not good. You might want to check with either his wife or mother.”
No way was he about to search out Hunt’s widow. In deference to his mother, he just couldn’t do it. But a wife? The poor woman must be beside herself, grieving over her husband’s sad state of affairs.
“Do you think that’s wise? Do they even know you’ve contacted me?”
“Eugenia was aware we were trying to locate other family members—that’s all. No one else has been apprised of the situation.”
Not good news. It was going to be a shock to his father’s wife, for sure. His half-brother’s wife was an unknown.
“Now that you’re here, I’ll arrange for the reading of the will for a week from Thursday. I’ll need to know where you’re staying in case I need to get in touch while you’re here. A phone number, as well.”
Hunter gave Günter Jordan the information and then rose to leave.
“Do you think it appropriate I visit my half-brother in the hospital?”
Günter Jordan rose as well. “You are family. I’m sure they’ll let you in—but he’s in I.C.U. so visiting time is limited.” He leaned over the desk and extended his hand. “If you don’t mind me saying so, you are the spitting image of your father. You have the same sable eyes and dark hair. I’m assuming you get the darker skin tone from your mother’s Hawaiian heritage.”
Hunter paused, raised his eyebrows before accepting the lawyer’s outstretched hand in farewell. His mother had never commented on his resemblance to his father. He had never given it a second thought, let alone a first thought.
“I see I have shocked you. I’m sorry. I doubt anyone will refute your paternity once they get a good look at your strong, dark Irish features. Let me know if the hospital staff gives you any trouble getting in to see Sebastian. I’ll set them straight.”
****
“What do you mean she is the one to decide whether or not my son lives? You can’t be serious?” Eugenia’s question was more of a screech.
Doctor Willson’s expression didn’t change, obviously used to such outbursts in circumstances where family members were asked to decide on a loved one’s final life decisions without their knowledge.
Thankfully, the conversation took place outside Sebastian’s room. Juelle didn’t blame Eugenia for being upset. She didn’t want to have to make the decision to pull life support, either. She sat in shock while her mother-in-law continued to pace and yell, her hands flying about in front of her, her heels clicking on the tiled floor, her face
flushed, her eyes bulging, and her hair messed from running her hands through it for the last five minutes. She looked like a zombie, her makeup in shambles.
“My son is not ready to leave this world. You have no right to try to end his life by taking him off life support. I’ll sue. Watch me.”
“Mrs. McClintock. I understand your concern and sorrow.” Dr. Willson intervened and stepped forward. “But believe me, your son’s vital functions are shutting down. There has been no sign of movement in the past week. We have been monitoring him for two weeks now, and there is nothing more we can do. I am sorry.” The doctor’s face remained impassive as if he’d had to impart such news many times. “Unfortunately, Mrs. McClintock, the Living Will in our file states his wife, Juelle McClintock, has the unfortunate task of giving us permission to remove life support. I am sorry, but we will need her decision as soon as possible. Perhaps within the next twenty-four hours would be best.”
“No! I won’t have it. She is not going to be allowed to murder my son.”
Eugenia stopped in front of the glass door outside Sebastian’s room. With hands on her heart, she stared at her son. Tears streamed down her cheeks. Juelle had all she could do to hold back her own tears. Could she do it? Could she tell the doctors to let her husband go? And if she did, would it be murder, as Eugenia accused? She lowered her head and shut her eyes before her tears could fall. She fisted her hands and took several deep breaths, swallowed. God, she was tired of holding it all in.
She swung away from the scene in front of her, and headed for the door, only to be brought up short by a man standing there as if he’d been gob-struck. The man she’d seen at Mariner’s the night before blocked her exit. Before she could ask why he was here, Eugenia’s gasp drew her attention back to her mother-in-law. Clasping the back of a chair, the woman looked ready to pass out. Eugenia recovered so fast, Juelle wondered if she had imagined her mother-in-law’s reaction.
“What the hell are you doing here? Get him out of here. He! Is! Not! Family!” Eugenia screeched.
Juelle did a double-take. If she considered Eugenia sounded like a banshee before, with her ear splitting shrieking, her tone now was so venomous it had everyone stopping in their tracks and staring in disbelief. The strange man was the first to recover. He walked into the enclosed room. Juelle recognized the astonishment in his pinched lips, raised eyebrows.
“I am family.” His voice was calm, well-modulated, and confident. “Allow me to introduce myself—Hunter McClintock. I assume you know my father?”
Juelle’s mouth dropped. She couldn’t form a single sane word. Eugenia, however, had no trouble.
“Liar! Hunt McClintock’s only son is lying in that bed.” She stepped forward and pointed toward the I.C.U. cubicle, then reached back and braced herself against the chair once again for support. She leaned forward to emphasize her declaration. “I don’t know who you are or what you hope to gain by coming here pretending to be Hunt’s son,” she jabbed her finger at him, “but you’ve wasted your time. Get out of here. Now!”
“Eugenia, please calm down. You’re under a lot of stress. This can’t be good for you.” Juelle placed a comforting hand on her mother-in-law’s shoulder. Eugenia shrugged it off.
“You can leave as well. You’re nothing but a murderer.”
“Excuse me, but your daughter-in-law is right, Mrs. McClintock.” Dr. Willson approached and laid a comforting hand on Eugenia’s shoulder. Eugenia didn’t object to the doctor’s touch. “Have a seat and I’ll order one of the nurses to get something to calm you.” He turned to the man standing in the doorway. “Mrs. McClintock has just learned there is nothing more we can do for her son. Your presence seems to have upset her further. Perhaps it would be best if you leave for now.”
Hunter McClintock peered through the glass cubical at his half-brother, and then allowed the doctor to lead him out of the room.
If Hunter McClintock was not Hunt’s son, he was a very, very close relative—he was the spitting image of the young Hunt McClintock displayed in a number of framed photos on Eugenia’s fireplace mantel. No wonder he’d looked familiar when she’d seen him at Mariner’s last night. Had Hunt been married before? Had a child? Where had this child been all these years? And did Eugenia know about him? If her reaction at seeing him was any indication, even if she did, she never expected to see him in Lobster Cove. And certainly not at Sebastian’s deathbed. The poor woman didn’t need another shock, she’d suffered enough already.
“I don’t want to leave you here all alone, Eugenia. You need someone—”
“I’m not alone. I’m with my son.”
Her mother-in-law’s tone was despondent, and Juelle’s heart ached for the woman. She might be hard to live with, and a force to be reckoned with, but it didn’t mean she didn’t have a heart—a heart that was breaking all over again.
Before she left, Juelle returned to Sebastian’s bedside and squeezed his cold hand. How could she let them take him away from Eugenia? From their daughter, Makenzie. She didn’t think she could.
****
Hunter shut the door as he exited the explosive confrontation he’d just walked in on. He’d heard enough. He hadn’t expected anything less, but hadn’t counted on it happening quite so soon after arriving in Lobster Cove. His half-brother’s mother had stirred up a bee-hive, and his presence hadn’t helped. It was a foregone conclusion she wasn’t going to be happy that he’d been called to Lobster Cove for the reading of her husband’s will. Günter Jordan should have warned her that he was coming—prepared the woman for the inevitable.
Hunter rested against the wall next to the window. What the hell was he doing here? Was it worth coming all this way only to be confronted by a mad woman? From the eighth-floor window, he had a partial view of the harbor over the top of the park trees. The usual calming effect of water slapping against a white sandy shore was nowhere to be seen. Various sailboats, bobbing along the harbor dock in the distance, held a familiar ring, and although a familiar scene at the marinas back home, the lack of tropical sandy shores failed to warm his heart. Inheritance be dammed! He had the strongest urge to pack up and go home. He wanted nothing from his estranged father. Nothing!
Should he go home, or stick it out to find out what developed? He was torn. And Sebastian’s poor wife? A stunning, beautiful woman—her lush strawberry-blond hair, large sea-green eyes so woebegone looking as she faced her mother-in-law’s tirade. He had the strangest and strongest urge to go to her and wrap her in his arms—comfort her. They hadn’t been formally introduced, but he didn’t need to know her name to see she not only grieved for her husband, but she was resolved to a fate of having to deal with a shrewish mother-in-law.
Hunter sighed, shifted, and ran his trembling fingers though his hair. No way would he want the responsibility of having to end a spouse’s life. Especially after being called a murderer. That alone must have stung. How the young wife could stand there and take such verbal abuse was beyond him. His chest ached just thinking of what she must be going through, about to lose her husband and having to deal with a callous mother-in-law. He shook his head.
Deciding to come back to visit his half-brother later, when the queen bee wasn’t around, Hunter shoved away from the window and walked past the busy nurses station on his way out of the I.C.U. hospital wing. He needed to cool off. Might just as well see something of the area. A drive up around Acadia sounded like a good idea.
****
Juelle wanted to scream, but what good would it do? No way did she want to have to make the decision to unplug Sebastian’s life support. However, it wasn’t in anyone’s interest to let Sebastian remain in such a state indefinitely. She recalled Eugenia’s words and the wretched look on her face, and shuddered. If she didn’t already feel guilty about having considered asking Sebastian for a divorce six months ago, Eugenia’s accusations just clinched top spot on the guilt meter. Could her life get any more complicated?
She had twenty-four hours to make up he
r mind, to figure out how to make things right with Eugenia. But would her mother-in-law listen? She didn’t look forward to the confrontation they were sure to have later. In the meantime, she had to compose herself and go pick up Makenzie so Katelyn could go to work.
Juelle pulled into Katelyn’s drive just as her friend wheeled Makenzie up the walk in an old fashioned baby carriage. She turned the ignition off in her Beetle, and got out of the car as Katelyn drew near.
“Shhh. The darling girl is napping. It’s such a beautiful day, I wanted to get in a walk. How’d it go today?”
“You don’t want to know,” she sighed. She was past the crying stage. Her head throbbed, her shoulders weighed a ton, and she could sleep for a month of Sundays. She pocketed her keys and followed her friend through the gate to the backyard.
“You’re looking more stressed today than usual. Come on. We’ll have an iced tea and talk. Makenzie will be okay in the carriage under the shade tree.”
“I don’t know what I’d do without you. You’ve been a godsend since Sebastian’s accident. I know I should be looking for a fulltime babysitter soon, or even a daycare…”
“Don’t worry about it. I’m glad to help out. Sit and relax while I get our tea.”
Juelle strode to the carriage, bent over her daughter, and brushed a wispy red curl aside, then kissed Makenzie on her smooth cheek. Her heart swelled with happiness. No matter the outcome with Sebastian, she would ever be grateful he’d given her this adorable babe. Could she live with Makenzie thinking she’d killed Sebastian? Would her daughter grow to hate her?
Juelle let out a heavy sigh and sat down in one of the white wicker chairs arranged around a round table. Life just wasn’t fair sometimes.
“Here we are. My mom sent over one of her famous wild blueberry pies, so I cut us each a large piece. Something tells me you need a pick-me-up.”
“Thanks. She does make the best pies in Lobster Cove.” Juelle wasn’t sure she could eat any, but she didn’t want to hurt her friend’s, or Mrs. Sullivan’s feelings.
