Facial Recognition

by Jennifer Peel

  “He’s going to need our fighting spirits. The odds aren’t good,” I stuttered.

  “Honey, if there is one thing I know about Hamilton men, it’s that they don’t put stock in the odds, only themselves. Tom’s a fighter. We just have to let him know we are all cheering him on.”

  “You know me—I love being a cheerleader.”

  “Dust off your pom-poms. We all have some tough games ahead of us.”

  “Games?” As in plural.

  She wagged her brows. “Just promise me you’re in it to win it.”

  “Win what?”

  Her lips curled into a Cheshire grin. “What you know is yours.”

  I rubbed my chest. The voice couldn’t be right. Could it?

  Chapter Seven

  Daddy brought me a change of clothes and a smoothie early the next morning. I couldn’t bear to leave Tom alone. I knew he wouldn’t be waking up, as he was in an induced coma; however, I worried about him dying all by himself.

  It felt good to be in some warmer clothes: a pair of jeans and a mint pleated, flutter-sleeved blouse. Daddy had even thought to bring me a jacket. Bless him. It was freezing in here, though the nurse had brought me a blanket last night. Not that I’d slept much. There had been nurses in and out all night, checking his vitals and his temperature, even taking his blood. I would be living off adrenaline and Diet Pepsi for the rest of the day.

  Daddy took a sip of his coffee while staring with concerned eyes at his best friend. “How long did June and Brooks stay?”

  “They left around one a.m. June wanted to stay, but Brooks insisted she get some rest.” More like he couldn’t take the pressure any longer. He was fighting himself something fierce staying away from his daddy. He’d never ended up coming in.

  “It was something else, seeing them after all this time.”

  “It sure was.” I took a sip of my strawberry smoothie.

  “Brooks grew up to be a good-looking kid.” Daddy have me a crooked grin.

  “He’s all right.”

  Daddy lovingly stroked my hair. I had let it down and did what I could with it in the hospital bathroom, which was basically nothing. My hair didn’t like to be tamed. So, I looked like a wild woman this morning. “Your heart never was the same after he broke it.”

  I whipped my head his way. “What are you talking about?”

  Daddy leaned in conspiratorially. “I might not be the most attentive man, but I know my daughter.”

  I leaned my head against his. “You’re the best daddy a girl could ask for.”

  “Only because I was blessed with the best daughter.” He kissed my cheek.

  “Do you think Tom will make it?” I whispered, pleading for him to tell me it would all be okay.

  “He’s in God’s hands now.”

  “The doctor said if he doesn’t wake up in forty-eight hours, we will need to discuss our options. Daddy,” I cried, “I can’t let him go.”

  “Shh. Let’s not think like that. A lot can happen in two days. Maybe you should go home and get some rest.”

  “I don’t think I could. It’s almost like watching Momma all over again. Wanting to get in every last second, just in case.”

  “I know, honey.” He wrapped his arm around me. “At least close your eyes.”

  I set my smoothie down, curled my feet under me, snuggled in the best I could on his shoulder, and rested my eyes. I saw flashes of Tom falling out of his chair and his eyes rolling back. I squeezed my eyes tighter. Then I replayed the conversation I’d had with Miss June, over and over again. The grief had made her high. It was the only explanation for her thinking I should fight for Brooks. Not happening. Now, if Brooks wanted to fight for me . . . nope. Nope. Not going down that road. It didn’t matter that he had a great excuse for ditching me on prom night, he was still an arrogant jerk. And I didn’t even know him anymore. You know, other than that he was beautiful. However, that wasn’t a basis for a good relationship. Not to say it wouldn’t help.

  What was I even thinking? I was supposed to be here cheering for Tom and lending him emotional support, not thinking about ripping his son’s shirt off so I could rub those broad shoulders again and asking him for pointers on kissing. Ooh, I bet he had some even better ones now. Stop it, Gracie.

  I must have dozed off, because the next thing I knew, Daddy was kissing my head and saying, “Honey, I’m going to go wait in the waiting room.”

  “Huh?” I lifted my head.

  “I need to go wait outside, since there can only be two visitors at a time.” Daddy smiled.

  I blinked several times, trying to comprehend what Daddy was saying. “It’s only us,” I slurred.

  Daddy pointed at the door.

  I turned my head slowly, and there stood Brooks, looking like he was dressed for court in his suit and tie. Holy crow. Could I ever run into him when I was wearing something sexy or at least had my hair done? Or better yet, my teeth brushed? I sat up straight. “I can go,” I offered.

  Daddy rested his hand on my shoulder, holding me in place. Which was an unusual move for him. “I think it would be best if you stayed.”

  I usually never disagreed with Daddy, but I had some serious objections. Yet, before I could voice them, Daddy was at the door and patting Brooks’s arm. “Tom will be happy you’re here.” Daddy walked off without another word.

  Brooks watched him go, and then he turned his sights on me. He ran his hand through his hair. “When did you get here?”

  I uncurled my legs and let them drop to the floor. “I never left.”

  “Oh. I figured since you weren’t wearing your magically delicious shirt, you went home.” His lips twitched.

  “If I wear it too long, it will lose its charm.”

  “I doubt it.”

  My brow raised, surprised by his flirtations.

  Brooks hemmed and hawed at the door.

  I patted the seat next to me. “I won’t bite.”

  “How about squeeze my nose?”

  I shrugged playfully. “We’ll play it by ear.”

  With a smile, Brooks hesitantly took a step, then froze when he looked at Tom, who looked more machine than man right now. Brooks flexed his fingers several times. With each flex of his fingers, his face turned a deeper shade of red.

  “He hates himself more than you will ever hate him,” I whispered.

  Brooks jerked his head my way. “I wouldn’t be too sure about that.”

  “I don’t want to argue with you again this morning, but you’re wrong.” Admittedly, I felt a tad guilty for being so salty the night before.

  Brooks relaxed some. “I don’t want to argue with you either.”

  “How disappointing,” I teased. “Does that mean you think I’m right?”

  “No.” He strode my way as if he were daring himself to get closer to his daddy. He dropped onto the seat next to me. “I promised my mother I would be courteous to you if I saw you today.”

  I scrunched my nose. “What’s with your formality? Mother? Courteous? Did they teach you that in law school?”

  “I find people take me more seriously when I drop the accent and speak properly.”

  “Properly? You grew up in Texas, and we have mommas down here; and we aren’t courteous, we have manners. The kind of manners where you wouldn’t have to promise your momma you would be kind to me—that would already be a given.”

  His left eyebrow arched so debonairly I wanted to swoon. “Am I the only one expected to have manners?”

  I slapped my chest. “Are you suggesting that I don’t? I’m hurt.” I smirked.

  “You are just like I remember.”

  “And how would that be?”

  “Infuriating but . . .” He paused.

  “But what?”

  He stared blankly at the monitor displaying Tom’s vitals. “Never mind.”

  “Oh no, you can’t make a statement like that and not finish it.”

  “Of course I can.”

  “Fine. I’ll finish it
for you. Let’s go with infuriating but irresistible.”

  He chuckled while rubbing his neck. “I’ll let you have that.”

  That made my pulse tick up a bit. “So, uh, how is your momma this morning?”

  Brooks was looking everywhere but at his daddy. “She’s resting now, and then she’s going to pick up Carly and her family from the airport later.”

  “I bet she’s excited to see her grandsons, at least.”

  Brooks flashed me a genuine smile. “We both are.”

  That surprised me. I wondered what kind of uncle Brooks was to Carly’s boys.

  “Are they all staying with you?”

  “I suppose,” he sighed, not sounding thrilled. “My condo isn’t designed for houseguests.”

  Why didn’t it surprise me that he lived in a condo? “You know, they could stay at your daddy’s. I have a key, and the house is in great condition. Plenty of room for everyone. Besides, it’s closer to the hospital.”

  One thing Tom hadn’t let go of was the home he had raised his family in. It was almost sad how religiously he had kept it clean and just the way it had always been. Honestly, it looked as if it were frozen in 1999. The house was filled with big, clunky wood pieces. The entertainment center alone probably weighed a couple of tons. The floral furniture was so retro it was adorable. Tom had even covered it in plastic to preserve it. He loved telling us how June had dragged him around for months, going to every furniture store in Texas, until she had found the perfect living room set. He talked the salesman into giving them the set off the showroom floor so June didn’t have to wait any longer.

  “I don’t know.” Brooks seemed uneasy with the thought. Probably because it might mean that he would actually have to come home.

  “Think about it.”

  “I will. So, what did you do all night here?” He seemed anxious to change the subject.

  “Mostly talked to him and caught up on our book club reading for the month.”

  “I can’t believe you and Tom have a book club.”

  I refrained from rolling my eyes. “Your daddy thought it would keep his mind sharp, and he likes to do it as a way to connect with Carly. This month we’re reading Twilight because it’s Carly’s favorite book.”

  “The book about sparkly vampires?” Brooks cringed.

  “You make it sound so bad.” I grinned.

  “I never understood the appeal. The main character sounded like a stalker, climbing through her window and watching her sleep at night.”

  “How do you know he did that?”

  Brooks’s ears tinged pink. “I dated a woman who was obsessed with it.”

  “Morgan?” I did my best to not snarl her name.

  “No. She has more sense than to read such foolishness.”

  I tilted my head. “Why is it foolishness? Just because it isn’t one person’s cup of tea, doesn’t mean that it doesn’t have value. The book obviously filled a need, judging by its popularity when it first came out.”

  “What need would that be?” He sounded like he was putting me on trial.

  “The need to be loved at any cost.”

  “That’s a fantasy.”

  “Perhaps. Every relationship involves some risk—women want to know that the person they love thinks they’re worth it.”

  He studied me for a moment, and a slight softness washed over his features, making me think he was beginning to understand. Until he opened his mouth again. “Men need to stalk women to prove this?”

  I sighed loudly. “You’re obviously missing the point. But . . . ,” I gave him a crooked grin, “if I remember correctly, there used to be this boy who would crawl through my window at night unbeknownst to my daddy. Would you consider yourself a stalker?”

  Brooks’s face turned redder than the apple on the cover of Twilight. “That was innocent,” he stammered. “We were friends.”

  That was true. Despite how badly I used to wish it wasn’t all innocent. Each time he’d knocked on my window after climbing our trellis, this tiny shred of hope had appeared. Hope that maybe that night would be the night he would want to do more than just listen to music and talk. Brooks was an old soul who had loved artists like Cat Stevens and Eric Clapton. He would replay certain guitar riffs and give me the history behind the song. Unfortunately, he’d never appreciated Rick Springfield for the musical legend he was. Nor had Brooks known how I’d longed for his kisses, especially after he’d given me a taste of one. However, the kisses never came, and eventually he stopped coming too.

  “Friends,” I whispered. “You know, I should give you some time alone with your daddy. For some reason you seem to bring out my snarky side, and I would hate for you to break your promise to your momma.” I stood.

  Brooks unexpectedly reached for my hand. “Please don’t go,” he begged like a child.

  I stood stunned for a moment by his actions before I came to my senses and registered his plea. I squeezed his hand back, feeling so many things. Everything from belonging to anger—anger at myself for still feeling so attracted and connected to him. “Brooks, you’re going to have to face him sooner or later. And there may not be a later,” I cried.

  “I know. Please stay.” He gently tugged on my hand.

  I eased back onto my chair. He kept a hold of my hand, just like the night after my momma had died when I had needed his comfort so desperately. The way he held my hand told me he needed that same comfort now. As much as it hurt and confused me, I would give my old friend that.

  “Thank you,” he whispered.

  “You’re welcome.”

  There we sat in silence, other than the sounds of the machines, for the better part of an hour, watching over Tom. Occasionally Brooks would run his thumb across my hand, and I would have to stop myself from shivering. Yet we never said a word. In my mind, though, I was having all kinds of conversations with myself and the pesky voice that had decided to make an appearance again. The voice and I fought over all the reasons Brooks and I were wrong for each other, no matter how right it felt sitting next to him and holding his hand. My reoccurring argument was that he was dating Morgan and hated marriage, according to his momma. I was smart enough to recognize that those factoids didn’t bode well for me. And Brooks had never seen me as anything other than a friend.

  Amid my silent battle, Brooks abruptly stood and rushed toward the door. Once the automatic doors opened, he looked back, his intense gaze centered on me. “Grace . . .”

  “Yes?”

  He didn’t respond, other than shaking his head before he strode out like the devil himself was after him.

  I took Tom’s hand. “Did that seem weird to you?” Mentally, I heard Tom give an emphatic yes. “I agree. Definitely weird.”

  Chapter Eight

  “You are a knotty girl.” Colette loved to make that joke when she rubbed my neck and back. She was truly a goddess among women, with the most magical hands on the planet.

  I closed my eyes while Colette worked out the kinks in my back. I didn’t care how strange it must have looked to everyone dining in the surprisingly nice hospital cafeteria. It was set up like a restaurant with circular tables, and the roof was glass, so it looked like we were in an atrium. They even had classical music playing in the background.

  “Sitting up all night in a chair will do that to you.”

  Lorelai sat across from us, typing notes. We were multitasking. Not only were the two best friends ever giving me a much-needed break by bringing me dinner, but they were helping me plan my twenty-year high school reunion. It was less than two months away. I’d had a hard time recruiting any of my old classmates to help—except for a few who were unbelievably unreliable or lived out of town—so my girls jumped in. Sadly, people didn’t want to help, though they were more than happy to come.

  “Maybe you should go home tonight and rest,” Lorelai suggested. “Let his family take the night shift.”

  My bed sounded glorious, as did a shower that lasted longer than the five-minute one
I’d taken when I’d gone home earlier after Carly and June had arrived. I’d wanted to give mother and daughter time alone to be with Tom and each other. Family relations, I think, were strained on all ends, even though both Carly’s and Brooks’s loyalties lay with their momma. Carly had recently inched the door open to repairing her relationship with her daddy, so I think this was hitting her harder than anyone. She had sobbed all over my head when we’d seen each other earlier—a real danger when you had tall friends, and hence the need for a shower. I’d never found snot to be a good hair product.

  “I have to stay. They’re going to start warming Tom’s temperature back to normal tonight. They’re also going to ease him off sedation. He might wake up,” I said, more out of hope than anything. The odds were that he was never going to regain consciousness, but I had to believe. Tom wouldn’t want me to give up on him like almost everyone else had. My heart couldn’t take the thought either.

  Lorelai reached across the table, took my hand, and squeezed it. “I’ll be praying, darlin’.”

  “Thank you.” I squeezed back.

  Colette’s hands moved up to my neck, where she skillfully kneaded the tense muscles. “Will Brooks be coming back?”

  I shrugged.

  Lorelai flashed Colette an impish grin. “Would you like me to make him date thirty-six? Perhaps you could use your feminine wiles on him and he’ll change his mind about writing a poor review about our spa.”

  “No, thank you. He’s not my type,” I lied. “Besides, he’s dating someone.”

  Lorelai laughed while Colette patted my head.

  “Would you rather take hobbit boy to your reunion?” Colette asked.

  “Y’all know our history. Because of him, I have some weird need to recreate my prom. No way am I letting him spoil my night, again. Besides, he hasn’t even RSVP’d, and technically, since he was our class president, he should be spearheading this. But, according to the organizer of our ten-year reunion, he told her reunions were a waste of time,” I whispered for some reason, even though I didn’t expect Brooks to come back. In fact, his momma was madder than a hatter at him, because instead of being at the hospital, he and Morgan were attending some live TED Talk tonight about what happens when you donate your brain to science. June had quipped that she wished Brooks would get a brain and dump Morgan. I felt like that was a reasonable wish.