“No, in Florida. My plane just touched down.”
“That’s great! Come over for dinner. You know Kara is going to love—”
“No, Jennings. I don’t want her to know I’m here yet.”
There’s a silence between us filled with a million and one questions. Of course, being as smart as he is, he asks the only one guaranteed to start up the tears I’d just managed to get under control. “Is Nick with you?”
My voice is flat. “No.”
“I see.” And I’m sure he does. Until this moment I never acknowledged Nick’s been back in Albuquerque picking up the reins of his life. I hid all of my pain over that loss until I was dealt the second blow of the loss of my dream of adopting David.
The idea of being in Juneau is more agonizing now than it was in those wretched months in between Jed’s death and the funeral. I couldn’t bear to be there another moment more than I had to. It was an unbearable wait because I wanted to put as much distance between me and my home as quickly as possible so I could recover from losing hope again. I’m not sure there are any words that can cut through the pain. I just need time to process everything, and I couldn’t do it with the memories suffocating me in Juneau.
“I need time,” I manage.
“Where are you going to be?” Jennings demands. Before I can figure out a reasonable argument to not tell him, he hits me with the single indisputable reason why he has to know. “You’re here weeks ahead of schedule, Maris, but what happens if something goes wrong? God, what if Kara goes into labor early? If I can’t reach you by cell, I need to be able to contact you.”
With a sigh, I tell him, “The Bath and Lodge Club,” naming the beachside resort I’ve stayed in for years when I visited Jed, Dean, Kara, and Kevin.
“Thank you. And Maris?”
“Yeah?”
“Just know you’re loved for being you.” Jennings says something else I don’t quite get with the shuffle of bags and general noise of the other passengers. And then I’m left holding an empty line.
“Jerk! God, I should show up and make your wife who is eight million months pregnant cry! I should encourage her to dream of you slipping and falling on a log during labor. How dare you say that?” I hiss at the device I’m clutching in my hands. Because Jennings just struck at the precious core of me I flew four thousand miles to try to protect.
My heart. Or rather, what’s left of it.
I gave up a permanent shot at a future with Nick for a chance at the child of my heart only to be told he was better off remaining exactly where he was—in foster care with the Li family. I’ve been so strong for so long, I just can’t handle the addition of this heartache added to the battering of my defenses. I’d been putting my heart back together, and with one fell swoop, the tide rushed in and dragged away every shard of my heart.
I called Mrs. Gustofson and told them I was uncertain when I would be available for placement. Despite her frustrated arguments, I said flatly, “You really need to give me time to grieve.” Then I disconnected the call. Even through I’m sure I just screwed myself out of ever having a child, I can’t think beyond the immediate pain that isn’t fading away.
I quickly made plans to leave my nighttime assistant manager in charge of the Brewhouse. Truthfully, I don’t even care if this piece of my family history gets swallowed up by an earthquake; I’m so numb. All I want is to curl in a ball until Jennings tells me Kara’s ready to deliver the newest member of their family. My soul would be eased knowing Kara’s going to be okay.
But I don’t think I will be. All I want right now is for it all to just fade away. Oh, what would I do if I could leave all the troubles festering inside me behind? Sleep, my weary body tells me. Start with sleep. Jennings knows where you are in the event the baby comes early.
As for the rest, none of it matters.
Not anymore.
Almost an hour later, I’m finally granted my wish. I open the door to my well-appointed suite, and the first thing I do is fling open the balcony door. Closing my eyes, with the ocean breezes whispering over me, I hear the roar of the waves. If I was given fanciful thoughts, I think she’s angry with me for leaving. “Who isn’t?” I whisper. “In the end, I made my choices.”
The ocean answers with a tide that comes perilously close to the sea wall directly beneath my room. If I was feeling fanciful, I’d think she was reaching out to comfort me. But I know better. I’ve had too much reality slapped in my face recently.
Turning, I strip off everything but my T-shirt and panties and crawl into bed. I don’t even think of Jed before sleep finally claims me.
After all, why bother? He’s gone.
Just like David.
And Nick.
I wake up squinting at the sunrise. It’s so different than those in Juneau. I pull my knees to my chest, a poor substitute for Nick’s arms around me, but the only one I have. I have no desire to eat. No urge to move. No urge to reach out. I don’t even know what day it is. Nor do I really care.
The only person who might need me will call the room if they do. And I should have weeks before that happens.
And with more tears falling, my eyes drift shut again.
I just wish I didn’t have to open them again.
Nicholas
After my rental clears the guard shack protecting Jennings and Kara’s neighborhood in Ponte Vedra, I call Jennings.
“I don’t have any updates, Nick.” His voice sounds strained.
“Tell me that to my face in about three minutes.”
“The answer won’t be any different. Hold on. What do you mean to your face?”
I pull up to the curb in front of the four-thousand-square-foot residence Kody’s company custom built for Jennings, Kara, and their son after they were married. I let out a low whistle. “You mean Kody included all your outside detail and he couldn’t throw in the interior trim? Cheap bastard.”
“I told him the same thing…holy shit.” The next thing I know the floodlights are practically blinding me through the moon roof and the front door flies open. “Is that you?” Jennings demands.
“No, it’s Santa. Now do I get to come in?”
Jennings just hangs up the phone.
Taking that as a yes, I don’t bother to retrieve my bag. First things first, I need to see Maris to apologize and beg for another chance. I begin to cross the lawn when all of the sprinklers pop up their heads. “Shit.” Making a mad dash, I avoid getting soaked, but I’m still well misted. “You did that on purpose,” I accuse an amused Jennings.
“There was no way I could have known you’d be here to change the settings. Not that you don’t deserve it.”
“Is she here?”
Jennings shakes his head. “That’s the reason I’m going to let you in. Neither is Kara. But you may have to leave at any moment. Kara’s a bit emotional these days. She won’t take too kindly to seeing you.”
I follow Jennings through to the great room. “This place is gorgeous, Jennings. It’s an oasis.” He reaches into the fridge and pulls out a few beers, but I shake my head. If Maris isn’t here, I want a clear head when I see her. He hands me a bottle of water instead.