Jackson scowled as he replaced the framed photo on his credenza as thoughts of his brother-in-law came to mind. He’d never been much of a Neil fan, and knew that his father and brothers merely tolerated him. Neil was just way too much of a kiss-ass for Jackson’s liking, practically fawning over Barton every time they were together, and going out of his way to please him. Jackson supposed he was an okay employee, working on the sales end of the business, and Neil’s ability to schmooze clients had worked in the company’s favor more often than not. He was good to Laura, too, though he indulged and overprotected her far too much in Jackson’s opinion. Grudgingly, Jackson supposed his brother-in-law did put up with an awful lot of crap, and probably had to bite his tongue way more often than he would have liked.
And, like the man or not, Jackson had to admit that Neil was a good father to Hannah. He’d always attended her soccer matches, school plays, and swim meets, always paid lots of attention to her at family get-togethers, and Hannah had seemed closer to her father than her mother most of the time. And since Hannah had fallen ill, it had been Neil who’d borne the brunt of the burden in seeing to her care, hiring tutors when she’d been too sick to attend school, and in-home nursing care when necessary.
And there had been no mistaking the heartbroken expression on Neil’s face when Doctor Parks had gently broken the news earlier today about Hannah’s condition worsening. No, whatever misgivings Jackson might still harbor about his brother-in-law, none of them had to do with his lack of attention or feelings when it came to his wife and daughter.
Jackson sighed in frustration, surging to his feet as he pushed away from his desk and walked over to the floor to ceiling window on the far side of his office. There wasn’t much of a view from here, given that his office overlooked the parking lot of the four story building that housed Gilmore Construction. The building was located in a business park, conveniently located to the freeway but not particularly close to restaurants, shops, or other services. There was, of course, an employee cafeteria in the building, but Jackson rarely ate there since more often than not he was out in the field at a job site.
His reflection gazed back at him somberly, causing him to gingerly rub his thumb over his stubble and realize he’d neglected to shave for the past two or three days. He was vaguely surprised Barton hadn’t made some scathing comment about it earlier today. His father made no bones about the fact that he disliked his youngest son tramping around construction sites, dressed in jeans, T-shirts, and work boots like he was just one of the crew instead of a part owner of the company. He would hate it even more, thought Jackson with a devilish grin, if he knew how often his son wielded a hammer or chainsaw, taking an active part in the actual construction process instead of merely observing it. Jackson wondered how long it had been since his holier-than-thou father had gotten his hands dirty doing any physical labor, and if his mostly useless brothers even knew which end of a wrench to pick up.
He ran a hand through his thick, slightly wavy dark brown hair, realizing he also needed a haircut badly. But with Hannah in such a bad way, worrying about his hair or his stubble seemed like the least important thing in the world. The family needed a damned miracle, thought Jackson despondently, needed a bone marrow donor to materialize and save Hannah. But he was beginning to come to grips with the fact that there would be no miracle for Hannah, and that as much as any of them hated to even consider the fact, Doctor Parks might just be right - they needed to start preparing themselves to let their beloved girl go.
“Damn it!” he swore out loud, resisting the urge to pound his fist against the wall. Instead, he shoved his hands into the pockets of the khaki slacks he’d put on this morning, figuring it wouldn’t be a good day to irritate his father by showing up to the doctor’s office in his favorite well worn jeans.
Jackson had paced the length of his office back and forth at least half a dozen times when there was a tentative knock on the door he’d left ajar. He glanced up in surprise to see Neil hovering in the doorway, having figured his brother-in-law would be at home attending to Hannah - or more likely to a semi-hysterical Laura.
“Do you, uh, have a few minutes, Jack?” ventured Neil hesitantly, his voice barely above a whisper.
Jackson frowned, puzzled as to why Neil was seeking him out, but beckoned him inside. “Sure. Not seeming to be getting much work done today, anyway. What’s going on?”
Neil glanced over his shoulder uncertainly, as though to make sure no one would see him entering Jackson’s office. Once inside, he not only closed the door behind him but locked it, too.
“I, uh, need your advice,” muttered Neil hoarsely. “And you’re the only one I can trust with this, Jack. The only one in the family I know won’t go apeshit once they hear what I have to say.”
Jackson regarded his brother-in-law with a mixture of confusion and concern. Neil’s complexion was almost sickeningly pale beneath his light golden tan, the dark circles under his eyes pronounced, and he looked about ready to faint or vomit - or both.
“Have a seat,” offered Jackson warily, as he eased himself into his desk chair. “Especially since you look about ready to collapse. Is there - did you get any additional news about Hannah? Is that why you look ready to puke your guts out?”
Neil shook his head as he sank gratefully into one of the leather club chairs positioned in front of his brother-in-law’s desk. “No news since this morning’s meeting with the doctor. Thanks, by the way, for sticking up for David the way you did. He’s a good guy, has done everything he possibly can for Hannah. Your father - well..”
“Dad’s a dick,” commented Jackson matter-of-factly. “But you ought to know that by now. Thinks that if he yells loud enough, snaps his fingers a few times, that everything will go his way. He’s too stubborn and arrogant to realize that even he can’t play God.”
“Yes.” Neil looked down at his lap, nervously clenching and unclenching his fists. “And the reason I needed to talk to you, Jack, well - it’s directly related to something David said earlier today. More specifically, about how the bone marrow transplant is the only real chance we have of - of saving Hannah.”
Jackson nodded. “I recall, yes. So what exactly is this about, Neil? Do you want to try putting together another bone marrow donation drive? I mean, I think we’ve hit up just about everyone we know, but we can certainly expand to other states. I have lots of close friends yet in California, plus some in Oregon and Washington, and we can - ”
Neil held up a hand before Jackson could continue. “No. That isn’t what I meant. Not that I don’t appreciate the thought, but we just don’t have the luxury of that sort of time. And the last thing I want to do is get Laura’s hopes up, only to watch her fall apart one more time when no match materializes. But I might, just might, have a lead - at the very least, a decent hope - on someone who could possibly be a match for Hannah.”
Jackson immediately sat up a little taller in his seat, both intrigued and concerned by Neil’s words - intrigued by even the smallest hope that Hannah could be saved, and concerned because it was very obvious that his brother-in-law had made this announcement with the greatest of reluctance.