by Debra Webb
“That didn’t take long,” he replied, pulling the water pitcher out of the refrigerator.
Terri had never been so furious with him. She should be happy, delighted to see him safe and whole. Part of her was, but it was buried under a blaze of anger. Her vision hazed red at the edges, and she laced her fingers together to keep from slapping that bitter smirk right off his face. He wasn’t showing an ounce of remorse for what he’d put her through.
All her sacrifice to cover his college, all her effort and energy to get him healthy, and he just walked away. Without a word. “Get out.”
“What? I just got back.”
“Get out.” She unlocked the door and jerked it open once more. “I’m not letting you do this to me.” She had her pride and a newfound sense of self-preservation. She wouldn’t let him tear that apart.
“You haven’t given me a chance to explain.”
“Why should I?” She clamped her mouth shut before she said something she’d regret. The insults and accusations eager to break free were only manifestations of her battered feelings. Striking out wouldn’t fix anything and could hurt them both in the long run. “You owe me an apology first,” she said, managing to stay calm. “Do it right and maybe I’ll listen to your explanation.” If he did it wrong, she could call Suzette and watch her friend rip into him. It was a powerfully satisfying image.
“Okay,” he replied. “Can we close the door?”
“As long as we’re clear that you can’t stay here.”
“Come on,” he sputtered. “This is my home, too.”
“Actually, it’s not.” She planted her hands on her hips. “Not legally.” A gush of resentment swamped her. “Where the hell have you been?”
“I—”
“I hired a private investigator to look for you!”
“Terri—”
“You disappeared,” she interrupted again. “Not a word for three months!”
“I’m sorry.” He held up his hands. “It wasn’t about you. It was—”
“Oh, no. Try again. You should know it’s going to take more than that.”
“I’m sorry,” he said quietly. “Really sorry. Disappearing was selfish.”
“Cruel.”
He frowned at her, clearly baffled by the exchange. “Not intentionally.”
She crossed her arms over her chest and leveled a glare at him, that image of Suzette hauling him to the curb firmly in her mind.
“Come on, sis. I needed space,” he said. “Arizona gave me that. We talked about it.”
“We talked about college,” she snapped.
“I know. It was great at first. Then classes got ramped up and it was too much. An overload. I’m sorry I left you hanging—”
“You left me worried to death. For months.”
“—and worried,” he added, bobbing his head in agreement. “You have to realize what a mess I was. I needed to get my mind straight.”
“What?” She couldn’t believe this crap he was shoveling at her. “You were pretty squared away on move-in day. Before that, actually.”
His gaze hit the floor. “I wanted you to think so.”
“No.” She shook her head. “Don’t even try to pin this on me. You are utterly immovable when you want to be.” She wagged a finger at him. “No one forced you to complete those applications. Northern Arizona was your decision. If I’d had a choice you would’ve gone to Clemson or USC.”
He swore. “That would’ve been worse. All my friends are upperclassmen. The teams—”
She’d believed for years that he would outgrow his selfish streak. “You suck at apologies, Trey.” She picked up the phone, tapping it against her palm. “Get on with your explanation before I call the police. Or worse.”
“Who would be worse than the cops?”
“Suzette.”
“Oh, God.” His eyes went wide and the words tumbled out. “I wanted something different. You know I needed a fresh start.”
“Old news.” She’d heard this when he was applying to various schools.
“I know.” He took a breath. “I liked college. My roommate was great. I had a few friends, but I was older.”
And still so immature. By some miracle those words stayed in her head. The dorm had been her only option financially and though she’d never said it, she’d thought the community and structure of dorm life were a good idea. It might’ve been different if he’d stayed in state and chosen to room with reliable friends.
“I got involved and connected with various groups on campus. Even the intramural softball team. One group was awesome. They had dinners and gave some pitches about self-improvement. You wouldn’t believe how effective they are. The people I met liked me, too. They talked to me about the process and offered me some really cool options that included a decent job.”
“Cool options like dropping out and not having the decency to make a phone call to your only sister?”
“I honestly thought I could get through the first phase before you knew what happened.”
The first phase? “Gee, thanks for that.”
“Seriously,” he insisted. “My plan was to call right away, but the process took longer for me. I had some issues.”
He had issues all right. They both did. “What process?” It was starting to sound like he’d joined a cult. She shook off the disturbing thought. Cults typically didn’t allow people to leave whenever they wanted.
“The first phase is like a mental clearinghouse and physical boot camp at the same time. It’s team policy for everyone they hire.”
“What kind of team?” If he had a job, they’d given him a new bank account. She managed the one here for him and hadn’t seen anything other than his first work-study pay come through.
“Company is too formal.” He grinned at her. “They get picky about the terms and phrasing to keep up productivity. Anyway, the goal is to purge the past in order to move forward with purpose.”
“How so?” Every word out of his mouth raised more questions. She wanted names and contact information so she could check it out. This felt wrong.
“Meditation,” he said, rolling his eyes. “It’s so much tougher than it sounds.”
She nodded her agreement and felt herself smiling a little. Sitting still had never been Trey’s strong suit.
“I didn’t mean to worry you or cause you any stress. I just wanted to get square.” He cleared his throat and studied his shoes. “Being away made the nightmares worse. I had to do something.”
He made a valid point, whether she liked it or not. She understood the heartache and sorrow that fueled those nightmares and she hadn’t been in the car. “Your counselor warned you that was possible. Likely.”
“I know,” he admitted.
“There were plenty of options that didn’t include dropping out,” she said.
He met her gaze, his eyes brittle and his jaw set in a stubborn line. “I chose the best option available for me at the time.”
She nodded grudgingly. He said all the right words, but she was either too tired or too angry to accept them. His reappearance and flood of unanswered questions drained her. She didn’t want to fight about what couldn’t be changed now. She glanced at the clock, suddenly exhausted. “I want to hear more about it, but not tonight.” Tomorrow was going to be impossible if she didn’t get some sleep. “I have to be up and ready to work in a few hours.”
“You’re going in?”
“Yes.” Did he expect her to stay home?
“I thought we could spend some time together.”
“And we will,” she promised. She gave him a hug, then walked toward the stairs, pausing when he followed her. “After my shift we can hammer out the details about you staying here, if that’s what you have in mind.”
He scowled at her. “What else would I have in mind? The team is letting me telecommute for up to a month for the holidays to make amends and reconnect. They value family. You’re my sister. This is home. Where else would I go?”
She ran her hand over the smooth wood of the banister. “Accepting your apology and explanation doesn’t just erase everything I’ve gone through while you were finding yourself. My house, my rules.” She swallowed, hating the words she had to say and the conflicted feelings swirling through her. “I’m not sure I’m comfortable with you living here.”
“Some homecoming,” he grumbled. “I shouldn’t have to earn the right to live at home with my sister.”
Although she felt confident he sincerely believed he had made smart choices for himself, she didn’t trust herself around him yet. His disappearance had crushed her and she couldn’t leave herself open to more of that pain. “If you wanted a parade, you should’ve given me some notice,” she snapped. She struggled to be fair, to treat him as she’d want to be treated. “I’m glad you’ve found yourself and work you enjoy. Honestly, I’m overjoyed to see you and pleased that you came in person to make amends. Your happiness matters to me and it always will. If you want to rebuild our relationship, you can start by showing some of that newfound maturity by acknowledging that my feelings matter, too.”
His face fell and he looked instantly ashamed. “You’re right. I’m just tired.”
She reached out and gave him a hug. For a moment it felt like old times when they’d settled a fight and Mom urged them to hug and make up. “We’ll both feel better tomorrow.”
When she crawled back into bed, her brain didn’t want to rest. She closed her eyes, hoping that would be enough. She was beyond the ability of the medical journal to bore her to sleep and she’d never been any good at meditation, either. Still, she tried, focusing on her breathing, on letting everything slide away.
It had been a roller-coaster night from her fun maybe-a-date to that soft kiss to her brother’s surprise arrival. Tempting as it was, she wouldn’t call in sick tomorrow. It was the last day of her rotation and she needed the work to distract her and give her a break from her suddenly complicated personal life.
Chapter Five
Wednesday, December 11, 11:15 a.m.
Thanks to hefty doses of caffeine and only a handful of patients on the ward, the first half of Terri’s shift went smoothly. It would change as patients started moving up from post-op recovery. Terri didn’t mind—the action would keep her awake and on her game until her shift ended.
On her break, she carried her lunch downstairs to the cafeteria, hoping to run into David without being obvious about it. Instead, she bumped into her dear friend Dr. Palmer. He gave her a big hug and then, missing nothing, pointed out the dark circles under her eyes.
“Are you feeling well?”
“Just didn’t manage much sleep last night,” she replied, making a mental note to find a better concealer.
“Have the nightmares returned?”
“No.” He was like a father to her and yet she’d never confided to him that Trey had gone missing. At first because she was sure her brother would turn up again soon. Then, as the weeks had dragged on, it felt too much like a failure. She’d considered telling Franklin when the PI came up empty, but she didn’t want to get him involved. “Trey got in late and we were talking.”
“Ah.” He pulled out a chair for her. “How was his first semester?”
“Eventful,” she hedged. “Would you expect anything else from Trey?”
“I suppose not.”
Franklin laughed and the jovial, booming sound erased part of her lingering tension. This man had become her lifeline when she needed both career and personal support right out of nursing school. They’d met when he was a patient and she answered a call in his room, unaware he was a VIP around here. The charge nurse on the shift had been livid when Terri, the least experienced of the nurses on the ward, exercised initiative. She’d drafted a reprimand immediately and Terri could’ve lost her job. The job she needed to take care of her brother and his mounting medical expenses. Her parents’ life insurance had paid off the mortgage and cars, but it hadn’t left much in the way of an inheritance.
Franklin had liked her instantly and made no secret about his preference for her ability and bedside manner. He got the reprimand tossed out before it landed in Terri’s permanent record. He’d even hired her as a private nurse when he was discharged. Those extra shifts had made it possible to fund her brother’s education.
“What are you doing down here?” she asked, pushing Trey to the back of her mind for the moment.
“I have a patient upstairs and I was looking for you.”
“How come?” She hoped he had some interesting case to discuss, or even another private nursing job for her to consider. She needed the distraction.
“We haven’t talked in some time. I’ve missed you.”
“Two weeks, maybe,” she teased. Opening her lunch bag, she popped open her bowl of salad greens. “What’s new?”
He leaned forward, his eyes sparkling. “You first. A little bird told me you had a date last night.”
So that was why he’d sought her out. “Please. You never listen to the gossips.” She stuffed a big bite of salad into her mouth to buy a little time to find a good answer.
“Avoidance.” He winked. “The gossip must be true.”
“Not in the way you’re implying.” She shook her head. “I went out—just as friends—with David Martin from HR. We had a fun time.”
Franklin’s eyebrows arched. “Friends,” he echoed. “You need more than that.”
“Pardon me?” She wasn’t sure why Franklin was suddenly interested in her social life.
“Fun is a good start, but you deserve more.”
“Maybe I’m not ready for more.” She poked at her salad, all too eager to confide in someone who wouldn’t immediately start making wedding plans. Talking with Trey wasn’t an option, leaving Franklin as the closest thing she had to family. “I admit it would be easy to think of David as someone more than a friend.” She paused, her mind drifting back to that wonderful kiss.
“So why not see where that path leads?”
“I’ve always believed it’s best to take things slow.” With her brother back in town and eager to reconnect, slow was the only option. “He just moved to Charleston.”
“I bet he admires our wonderful views. What did you do last night?”
She smiled. “We had dinner downtown and then caught Battery Lane at Benny’s.” She knew her expression had gone dreamy when Franklin grinned. “We walked along the seawall before he took me home.”
“My wife always delighted in the holiday displays.”
There was the catalyst. Franklin was feeling sentimental. She could certainly understand that, especially this time of year. “It was lovely,” she agreed.
“He sounds like a smart boy,” Franklin added.
“Man,” she corrected automatically. Trey was a boy. Despite the emotional and physical growth, the difference had been alarmingly clear to her last night. “David is a smart man.”
“I see.”
“No, you just think you do,” she said, digging into her salad again.
“I’m allowed to want the best for you. Maybe I’ll swing by his department and introduce myself.”
She wasn’t sure how David would take such a dadlike move. “Friends,” she reminded Franklin in a hurry. “Neither of us wants to rush into serious territory.”
Franklin frowned. “Why not? Life is short, Terri. A smart man is one who sees your value. He should want to be serious about you.”
“Thanks?” This was quickly moving past simple holiday sentimentalism. She and Franklin had spent hours talking during his recovery, and he’d listened to her ramble about losing her parents and caring for Trey and struggling to balance all the new responsibility in her life. He’d even given her legal advice in addition to everything else. Without Franklin, she could easily have lost everything in that first year, including her sanity. “Where is this coming from?”
“It’s been four years, Terri. You’ve been in a holding pattern, doing what is required but not living
to the fullest. With good reason, of course,” he added when she started to interrupt. “Trey is healthy and on his own at school much of the year. You have time for yourself. I want to know you’re living. I want to see you happy.”
Her eyes welled at his concern. She wanted to blame the reaction on her lack of sleep, but that wouldn’t be fair. Being loved, feeling cared for was something she missed. Without Franklin, she wasn’t sure she’d remember what it felt like at all.
“Tell me about him,” Franklin suggested.
“David is all about the water,” she began. “He grew up on the Georgia coast. He’s scuba certified. He used to lead underwater tours. He worked with the Coast Guard before coming to MUSC.”
“Does he have family?”
She grinned, thinking of David’s sisters. “He’s the youngest, with three older sisters. They drive him bonkers with blind dates every time he goes home for a weekend.”
“I’m starting to wonder why he left the Coast Guard.”
“I thought the same thing after he told me some of the wilder stories. His sisters really want him settled down.”
Franklin’s eyes went misty. “Family is important, as we both know.”
“It’s the rock we’re all built on,” she agreed, quoting one of his favorite sayings and making him smile. “I’m glad we have each other,” Terri said softly, reaching across to pat his hand.
Franklin might have filled her father’s shoes, but she knew she’d filled a void for him, as well. He’d lost his wife years ago to cancer, and his daughter had died early, too, though Franklin never discussed the circumstances. There were a few formal portraits he kept around the house, but that seemed the extent of his ability to share. Terri didn’t press the issue, well aware that he would tell her someday when he couldn’t bear the burden alone any longer.
Franklin cleared his throat and took a sip from his coffee. “Aside from the chatter of little birds, there is another reason I wanted to speak with you.”
She arched her eyebrows, waiting.
“I wanted you on the care team for my patient, but the timing didn’t work out.”
