by James, Sandy
There’ll never be a better chance. Carpe diem.
Lucas decided to seize the moment. Fishing the little box out of his pocket, he stood up and went to stand in front of Joy. With an enormous smile and all the hope in the world that he would actually survive the moment, he took a deep breath and dropped down on one knee in front of the woman he loved.
All conversation sputtered to a halt. Then the music stopped. Lucas was amazed some ridiculous spotlight didn’t spontaneously appear to make him feel even more conspicuous than he already did. Ah, well. Too late to turn back now.
Dark eyes bored through him from every angle, sapping some of his courage. But his love for Joy swelled in his chest, and he took a long, slow swallow.
Damn the torpedoes; full speed ahead.
“Jozsa Kovacs,” Lucas began, hoping his voice wouldn’t break like some nervous adolescent, “here in front of your family, I’m asking you to marry me.” He opened the box and set in on his palm before holding it out to Joy. The beaming smile she gave him in response made the whole ordeal worthwhile. The tears in her eyes made him feel like his air had been suddenly cut off.
Joy started to nod before her father exploded like a grenade. “No!” He reached out to grab Joy by the upper arm and jerked her away from Lucas. Lucas immediately sprang to his feet. He wanted to grab her and tug her back to his side, but he resisted, although he wasn’t quite sure exactly what he else could do. He wasn’t about to turn Joy into some prize in a ridiculous tug of war.
“She will not marry you,” Bela screeched, his face growing ruddy. “She must marry one of her own.”
“One of her own what? She’s a woman. I’m a man,” Lucas shouted before realizing just how loud he was getting. Trying to rein in the part of him that wanted to simply hit something, he took a calming breath before he addressed Bela. “I’m not Romungro. But I love your daughter. I’ll take care of her. I’ll make her happy.”
Joy’s brothers began to shout at once as they pushed people and chairs out of their way to reach the center of the excitement. Janos put himself in front of Lucas as the four men took their place behind their father, shaking their fists, and shouting in Hungarian.
Bela grabbed Joy by the shoulders and shoved her toward Illona. Taking a couple of steps toward Joy, Lucas found his upper arm gripped tightly by Janos. “Trust me. Not yet. Let her talk to our mother.”
Lucas nodded, trying to drown out the droning sound of the shouts and jeers that seemed to come at him from every direction. Gritting his teeth, he tried to talk to Bela again. “I’m going to marry your daughter.”
Bela shook his fist in Lucas’s face, and it took every ounce of Lucas’s self-control not to shove it out of the way. He was about to say something to Bela when Joy broke away from her mother and came over to squeeze herself between them. She turned to defiantly face her father. Lucas had never been prouder of her.
“I’m going to marry Lucas, Papa.”
“You cannot do this! You cannot turn your back on your own kind!” Bela complexion slowly darkened. Spouting off a fairly long-winded string of Hungarian, he started to gasp for each breath. He stammered for a minute, as if having trouble spitting out exactly what he wanted to say as a sweat broke out on his forehead. Bela suddenly stopped talking and put his hands to his chest.
It all happened before Lucas could even react. Bela clutched at his shirt, sputtering and coughing, before he slowly crumpled to his knees. He said something in breathless Hungarian and collapsed prostrate on the floor.
“Papa!” Joy cried as she dropped to her knees beside him. Bela struggled for breath as she tugged at his collar. Turning to Janos, she screamed, “Call 911!” Bela’s eyes closed. “Papa! Stay with us, Papa!”
A heart attack. He had caused her father to have a heart attack. Her family would never forgive him. Lucas wasn’t even sure he could ever forgive himself.
Chapter 25
Janos greeted Joy when she finally found the family in the waiting area outside the cardiac ward. She had forgotten most of what she knew of Erie geography, and Lucas had trouble figuring out where to go. They’d gotten horribly lost searching for the hospital.
Once inside the enormous building, Joy still had trouble finding her way to her father. She talked to a receptionist who told her Bela had been treated in the Emergency Room and then taken to a private room for observation. Wondering if Lucas would be able to locate her after he found a place to park the truck, she scolded herself for leaving her cell phone in Indiana.
“He’s fine,” Janos immediately consoled, making her wonder if she looked as frantic as she felt. “It wasn’t a heart attack.”
“It wasn’t? Then what was it?”
“An arrhythmia. They’re going to try to control it with medication for now. He might need a pacemaker. The doctor wants to try beta-blockers first, but he’s fine. They’re going to keep him overnight. He can go home in the morning.”
“Thank God.” She hadn’t killed her father. She hadn’t caused a heart attack. Not that she didn’t feel guilt seeping through every pore. Joy couldn’t stand that she’d caused her father pain. Physical or psychological. But she knew that was exactly what she’d done.
I hurt him. God forgive me.
Illona came to Joy and gave her a long, probing stare. “You haven’t changed your mind.” Her mother had always had that uncanny intuition, knowing the answer to every question she asked. As usual, the words were a statement, not an inquiry.
Joy heaved a sigh. Sweet Jesus, are Hungarians a stubborn lot. How many times did she have to assure them she would never change her mind about Lucas? Ever. Then she realized she was every bit as obstinate as they were. But Joy knew she was in the right this time. She felt it in her heart. “No, Mama. I haven’t changed my mind. I’m going to marry Lucas.”
Her mother pulled Joy into a fierce hug, and Joy wondered if she should read more into the embrace than a simple reassurance. Her mother’s words sent chills through her. “I’ll miss you, my darling daughter. I’ll miss you more than you’ll ever know.” Joy pulled away from her mother’s arms and stared into those dark eyes. The pain in Illona’s expression felt like a sharp blow to the gut. “He wants to see you, Jozsa. Go on. Go to your father. Tell him you are leaving us.”
Joy wanted to scream at her family, but in the end, she swallowed her anger and simply nodded. Then she found her way to her father’s room.
She was still afraid for him, and she wasn’t anywhere near ready to see him. But she found herself standing hesitantly in the doorway to his hospital room. God, she needed Lucas at her side now. She needed his arm around her shoulder to give her the strength to face what she had done to her father. To help her forgive herself.
Her father looked fragile. The towering presence of Bela Kovacs had been reduced to an old man dressed in a green hospital gown and hooked up to wires and tubes. The place smelled too clean, too sterile. The lights had been dimmed so he could rest. The machine monitoring his heart beeped a steady rhythm, and Joy tried to take comfort from the sound. “Papa?”
Bela’s dark eyes fixed on her. Thank God, he didn’t look angry anymore. He patted the side of his bed, and Joy ran to him. She sat next to him in that horrible hospital bed and let him cradle her head to his chest like he’d done when she was a child. He still smelled of Old Spice, just as he had when she’d been a little girl. “I’m sorry, Papa,” she said in Hungarian. “I...I didn’t mean for you to... I didn’t mean to cause this.” She couldn’t even finish the horrifying thought. “This is all my fault.”
Her father’s comforting hand stroked her hair. “I will be fine, Jozsa.” The reassurance was welcome, but he didn’t contradict her, and she knew he blamed her too.
Joy was content to let the minutes slide by, knowing that he wouldn’t leave her, that he wasn’t going to die. But at the same time, she knew she would be leaving him. He hadn’t changed his mind, would never change his mind about Lucas. At least his heart was sound and he would s
urvive. Even knowing her mind hadn’t changed, either, he would be all right. Before she could tell him though, she needed his comfort. Just one more time, she needed to feel her father’s love and be close to him.
“You will be happy,” he suddenly said in English, probably a little louder than he needed to as his deep voice rumbled in the ear she had pressed to his chest. “You and Tamas will be happy together. It is that simple. You will please your father and marry Tamas.”
Lucas had finally found the room in the maze of the hospital. The only response he’d received from Joy’s obviously furious family was a preoccupied Janos pointing toward Bela’s hospital room when Lucas had asked after Joy.
Seeing Joy sitting next to her father as the old man patted her head as if she was a child made Lucas’s heart pinch in dread. He stopped before entering the room and leaned against the doorframe, trying to squelch his guilt and muster his courage.
He had caused this. He had given Bela the heart attack. From across the dim room, the old man’s gaze was locked with his own, and Lucas saw the condemnation there. All because he was selfish enough to love Joy.
From what her father had just said to her, Bela obviously hadn’t given up his hopes that Joy would marry Tamas. Thank God, she wouldn’t change her mind. Even after what Lucas had done, how he’d treated her, she still loved him. He stayed back in the shadows and let them have their private moment. Joy would explain it all, and she would make everything better.
Lucas heard Joy breathe a weary sigh. “Yes, Papa. It will be just that simple.” She sighed again and her voice took on a flat tone. “I’ll marry Tamas, and I’ll make you happy. I’ll take over Gypsy with Janos, and I’ll raise a brood of Romungro children who will hear all the stories of their ancestors. That would make everything all right.”
Lucas was sure his heart had stopped beating. No. No. No. She didn’t mean it. She couldn’t.
Then he thought he understood, and the realization hit him like a punch to the face.
Bela’s heart attack had changed her mind and had made her see things in a different light. The fear of losing her father had forced her to choose.
And Joy chose her family.
Lucas suddenly realized how wrong he’d been all along. She just couldn’t leave her family behind, not for someone like him. Not for someone who almost hurt her. Not for someone who always did the wrong damn things for all the right reasons.
God, how stupid I’ve been! He turned on his heel and stalked back to the waiting area.
Joy berated herself for her childish sarcasm and regretted saying the silly things she knew her father wanted to hear. She’d been disrespectful, but she hadn’t been able to stop the mocking words from tumbling out of her mouth. She was weary. Weary of fighting the same battle over and over again. Weary of hearing her father’s ridiculous demands. Weary of the smothering animosity.
“I’m sorry, Papa, but I won’t do any of those things. I love Lucas. My heart wants him. If you can’t accept that, then...then...” She didn’t want to threaten. Not now. But, damn it, she wouldn’t give up Lucas. Not for anything, not for anyone.
Bela stopped stroking her hair and jerked his hand away. “I cannot believe what I am hearing.” Joy figured his anger had caused him to shift back to his native tongue. “You’d choose that...boy over your family? You would really do that to me? To your own father? You would abandon me on my deathbed?”
She knew he was exaggerating the situation, hoping to use guilt to win her obedience. But even knowing he was fine and that she shouldn’t feel guilty, the tears came anyway. The responsibility might not be Joy’s to bear, but quietly bear it she would. Yet even the smothering blame wouldn’t change her mind. “You’re not dying, Papa. My marrying Lucas isn’t going to make you die.”
“Bah! Go. Go to him, then, you shameful girl. Spit on me, spit on your heritage.” The little beeps from the monitor were getting more and more rapid, and Joy tried not to worry.
She didn’t want their parting to be like this. She loved her father, but she knew this might be the last time she saw him. Ever. He was too stubborn, too Hungarian to forgive this type of betrayal.
Betrayal. What a horrible word to describe her love for Lucas. Love wasn’t a betrayal; love was a choice she was making. Deliberately. A choice to give her heart and soul to a man who was kind, compassionate, and would always love her in return. The father of her child.
Joy took her father’s hand into hers before she gently kissed the back of it. “Papa...”
Although he squeezed her hand, Bela’s eyes still burned a path straight through to her heart. “If you leave with that boy, you are dead to me, Jozsa. I will have no daughter.” The beeps continued increasing their speed in their frantic race. He gave her hand one more squeeze then pulled away.
“Papa, please...”
A nurse came into the room and gently pushed Joy away from her father’s bed.
“Please, Papa.”
“You’ll have to leave now. He needs his rest.” The nurse threw a chastising glare at Joy.
“Szeretet, Papa. I do. I’ll always love you. And I promise that my children will know all of it. Every story, every name. I promise.”
She ran from the room.
I need you, Szivem.
* * * *
Hurrying through the waiting area, Lucas brushed past Tamas, intent upon getting out of that hospital as quickly as physically possible. But the man grabbed him by the arm, bringing Lucas to a stand still.
“If you want to keep that hand,” Lucas threatened through his clenched teeth, “you’ll get it the hell off of me.”
Tamas released his hold, but began to shout at Lucas. “Do you see what you’ve done? Do you see how you’ve made her father ill?”
Lucas wasn’t about to have an argument with someone he knew he would beat to a bloody pulp if given the least provocation. He could feel his hands fisting at his side, and his temples throbbed with pain at his attempts to manage his overwhelming hurt and anger. He wanted Tamas to pay for what he’d done to Joy, but Lucas had made her a promise not to hurt him. No matter how hard it was to keep, he wouldn’t break his word to her. Knowing he was close to losing any type of control, Lucas took a couple of steadying breaths and then took some steps toward the exit.
“Go on. Leave, gadjo. No one wants you here.” Tamas gave Lucas a hard push between the shoulder blades.
Lucas had more than reached his fill. With a loud snarl, he spun around, grabbed Tamas’s shirt in both hands, and slammed him against the wall, knocking over a small table full of magazines in the process. “I should beat the shit out of you for hurting Joy.”
“She belongs...to...to...me,” Tamas squeaked out.
“I love her!” It was taking every ounce of Lucas’s self-control not to take a swing at him and take out all his pain and anger and frustration on a very deserving Tamas.
“She could...never love...you. You’ve destroyed...her life. She can never marry a...a gadjo.”
“I didn’t destroy her family. I didn’t make her father sick.” I didn’t mean to hurt her. But Lucas knew those were lies. Even as he made himself say the words, he knew they weren’t the truth. He had destroyed Joy’s life, and she was leaving him because of it. How could he ever bear losing her? How could he stand not seeing her beautiful smile every morning? How could he sleep if he couldn’t hold her close every night?
Lucas released his grip on Tamas and gave one long, last stare to the members of Joy’s family. Her brothers were united in a wall of dark hair and dark eyes, obviously ready to defend Tamas. Even Janos looked angry. Lucas was almost amazed he didn’t hear “gadjo” slipping from each of their lips. Illona’s eyes were full of tears as she nervously wrung a handkerchief with her hands. The women, still dressed in their wedding finery, hung back, throwing him disdainful glares.
Suddenly, Lucas needed to get as far away from all of them as he could. He needed to get as far away from the ridiculous expectations the Kovacs fa
mily had for Joy and far away from that fact that he would never be what she needed.
I love you, Jozsa. I’ll always love you.
Having no idea where he was going, Lucas marched out of the hospital without a backward glance.
* * * *
Joy stood just outside the door for several long minutes, listening to the nurse speaking to Bela in a soft, calming voice. She could hear the heart monitor’s insistent beeping slow to a more reasonable rate, and she knew he would be all right.
Brushing away the tears she couldn’t keep from sliding down her cheeks, Joy took a deep breath, needing to gain some control over her raw emotions before she could move. She had bid her father farewell but hadn’t even told him about the baby. And now she faced the condemnation of the rest of her family. They would all be there in the waiting room, unified in their unreasonable hatred for the man she loved with every piece of her soul.
How ironic the whole notion seemed. Gypsies had been hated and persecuted for who they were since the dawn of their race. Now, the gypsies of her family were the persecutors, hating Lucas just because of what he was. Or what he wasn’t. They’d become the people they had abhorred, and they were proud of it.
Joy wiped the tears away with the backs of her hands. She needed Lucas, and she needed to tell her family she was leaving. For good. Her life was with Lucas now. He was the father of the child who slept so peacefully in her womb, oblivious to what was happening and how those changes would shape a new future.
The whole clan was standing there when she walked into the waiting area. They looked confident, like some conquering army. Her gaze scanned her older brothers. They’d always represented safety to her. They had loved her, protected her, and teased her. She loved them unconditionally, but she would have to tell them the truth. She glanced at their wives. Their Romungro wives. The women frowned at her as if she was an unwelcome stranger. Joy could feel the tears forming again, but she swallowed hard and tried to stop their flow.
