“Point taken.”
“Excuse me?” A fresh-faced nurse stands in the door, looking a little uncertain. “VanDyken?”
“That’s us.”
“Oh, uhm, I was told one person could see him at the time,” she says when both Joe and I get to our feet.
This time I take the lead and reach out my hand, which she takes hesitantly.
“I’m Dr. Carter and this is Chief of Police Benedetti. We assumed we’d both be able to see him.”
Her eyes dart between Joe and me.
“Yes, of course. I’m sure that’ll be fine. Follow me please?”
Jay is in a room by himself. His head and neck are still wrapped in large post-surgical bandages. I’m sure they’ll be replaced with something less dramatic in the morning, but for now it makes him look even more vulnerable. As strong and tall as he is standing up, he seems frail and almost unsubstantial in the hospital bed.
His eyes are closed, but when Joe walks up to the bed and puts a hand on his shoulder, they pop open.
“Good to see you awake, man. How are you doing?”
Jay seems a little disoriented, which isn’t surprising.
“Not sure. Hospital?”
“Yes. Mercy. You’re gonna be okay, though.”
“Okay…” he mumbles and his eyes start closing.
“You rest, I’ll pop in tomorrow morning and see how you’re doing, but I think Meredith is staying for a bit.”
At the mention of my name, he turns his head and the intensity of the past few hours threatens to overwhelm me when I look into his blue eyes. I barely notice Joe leaving the room as I take a seat beside his bed.
“Merry…”
“I’m right here. Not going anywhere.”
I take his hand and feel his fingers wrap around mine as he drifts off again. Only then do I release the roller coaster of emotions I’ve been holding back since seeing him lying on the ground.
Putting my head down on our joint hands I let go.
Jay
“I’m sorry. I’m afraid he’s not available right now.”
I quickly wash my hands and grab my IV pole, pushing it ahead of me into the hospital room, where Meredith is just putting my phone down on the bedside table beside a take-out cup of coffee that hadn’t been there before.
She hadn’t been in the room when the nurse woke me up to check my vitals. She helped me up when I told her I needed to use the bathroom and clearly felt I moved well enough on my own, because she left me to take care of business by myself. My head may be pounding and my neck is sore, but there’s nothing wrong with my legs.
“Hey. You’re on your feet.”
Meredith’s tone is cheerful but her eyes don’t match.
I woke up a few times during the night, and each time she was there. We didn’t talk much, just her asking me how I was, or me telling her to go get some sleep. Sometimes her head would be down on the mattress and others I’d find her warm eyes on mine, but at no time did she let go of my hand. Until she was gone when the nurse came in earlier.
I sit down on the edge of the bed, feeling ridiculous in the much too short hospital gown they’d changed me into.
“Your phone was buzzing and I answered it. Maybe I shouldn’t have, but it was automatic.”
I take one of her hands in mine.
“You can answer my phone, I don’t mind. I’ve got nothing to hide from you.”
“Well…” she hesitates as she turns her head away. “You may mind this time.”
“Why? Who was it?”
She pulls her hand from mine and walks over to the window, staring outside.
“A reporter for the Boston Herald,” she says without looking at me, and I feel the weight of my family’s dysfunction land heavily on my shoulders. “He was looking for your reaction to the report you left your family to look after your son and his mother.”
Un-fucking-believable.
So they went ahead and threw me under the bus anyway, setting Alex up to come out a hero. The perfect solution for everyone. Tamara would still be a kept woman—but now as a legitimate member of the family, like she always wanted—and my brother and father’s political reputations would remain intact.
The fact they paint me as a deadbeat father wouldn’t impact them since I was already the black sheep of the family.
It shouldn’t hurt anymore. Not after what happened at Nana’s funeral. But it still does. Especially now they’re dragging the reputation I’ve been building for years down in the dirt.
“I don’t have a son.”
I can hear the cold in my own voice. I sound callous.
“She called you yesterday. Tamara. That’s when you found out, right?”
She turns around and I look for the judgement I expect to see in her eyes. I’m surprised to find there is none. There’s hurt and there’s vulnerability, but no anger.
“Merry, come here. Please?” I add when she doesn’t move. I wait until she sits beside me and I take her hand in mine again. “The kid is my brother’s.”
She shakes her head. “I don’t understand. Then why—”
“My brother is running for mayor. A mistress and an illegitimate child don’t look good on his résumé.”
Her mouth falls open when she puts two and two together. “You’ve gotta be kidding me.”
“I wish I were. I’ll admit, when she first called and tried to pawn him off as mine, I automatically assumed she was telling the truth. I needed a moment.” I reach up to tuck a strand of hair behind her ear. “I’m sorry I didn’t talk to you first. My head was spinning.”
“I can imagine.”
“The more I thought about it, the more unlikely it seemed the child was mine. You see, since my grandmother died, I’ve been the one with the biggest bank account. Yet it didn’t occur to her to go after me until my brother literally put her and the child out in the street. If it was really my son, she would’ve hit me up for support a long time ago. She’s an opportunist.”
“I’m sorry.” She leans her shoulder into mine and that’s a weight I welcome. “So how did the reporter find out?”
“I called my parents after I talked to her and found out she’d already gone to the press. They wanted me to claim the child as mine to take the heat off my brother, but I refused. I guess they made the claim for me.”
“Throwing you under the bus.”
“Yup.”
“Your family sucks.”
I smile at the venom in her delivery and kiss the side of her head.
“Not gonna argue that.”
She twists her torso and glares at me.
“I shouldn’t have brushed that reporter off. You’re going to set that story straight, right?”
Fuck, but it feels good to have someone ready to go to bat for me. Other than Nana, I don’t think anyone ever has. It’s on my tongue to blurt out I love her when Joe stalks into the room.
“Wow. Didn’t expect you to be up and about already. You were barely conscious last night.” His face cracks open in a grin. “Best news today.”
“Just a killer headache, that’s all,” I share, squeezing the bridge of my nose between my fingers.