Deborah looked up at Louisa, then back to Jackson. She leaned in closer to the boy. “Yes. They’ve always been his favorite thing. Ever since he was little.”
Louisa gave a soft nod.
“He dreamed of owning a garage full of old Mustangs,” Jackson’s dad said with a smile. “One from every decade.”
Silence hung in the room, and Cody wished he could bolt. Louisa sure was taking her time here. He glanced at Jackson’s mom. Wiry and thin with wispy hair on the brink of changing color, like oak trees in autumn.
Louisa leaned forward, gaze still on Jackson. “He sure is a handsome kid.” She smiled then and looked at Mrs. Wirth.
Louisa had always been good with people. She was so natural and easygoing. She was friendly and charming and not the least bit shy. But this—it was more than that. She was genuine. He never once got the impression that she was trying to sell anyone on anything. She had a job to do, sure, but she made certain that job was beneficial to someone who needed a little light in their life right now.
Maybe his family shouldn’t have pushed her away in their own hour of need.
“We’re hosting a regatta,” Louisa said quietly. “A whole day of bringing awareness to water safety and to raising money for a worthy cause.”
“What cause?” Deborah asked.
Louisa looked up and straight into the woman’s eyes. “Your family.”
“We’re not a charity case,” Deborah said.
“Honey, let her talk,” Mr. Wirth said. He glanced at Louisa. “Our insurance covers some of Jackson’s expenses, but we’ve taken a second mortgage on our house to try and cover part of what’s left.”
Louisa nodded. “Medical bills can be so hard. We just want to help ease the burden if we can.”
“Who’s ‘we’?” Deborah’s shoulders had gone stiff, as if she knew there was something about this idea Louisa wasn’t telling her, something she wouldn’t like.
“The event is hosted by the Coast Guard station at Brant Point,” Louisa said firmly, and once again Cody admired that she didn’t try to sugarcoat the truth.
“No way,” Deborah said.
“Deb,” her husband said quietly.
“Mr. and Mrs. Wirth,” Louisa said kindly, “we know you’re in a lot of pain right now.”
The woman’s lower lip quivered. “You don’t know anything about our pain.”
Louisa inched back in her chair. “You’re right. I don’t understand this kind of pain.”
Deborah swiped a tear that slid down her cheek.
“But I might.” Cody hadn’t meant to say the words out loud. He felt Louisa’s eyes on him.
Jackson’s parents looked at him too, confusion on their faces.
“I don’t know exactly what you’re going through, but my father drowned when I was eighteen,” he said.
Deborah’s face softened, but only slightly, and the man stilled.
“It’s the worst thing that’s ever happened to me.”
Deborah wiped her cheek again. “You want to use Jackson to ease your guilty conscience.” The anger was back. It flashed in her eyes, hot and cold at the same time.
“No. We only want to help,” Cody said, and he meant it. It was the first time he wondered if the pain he’d endured might actually be able to help someone else.
Maybe he should’ve kept his mouth shut. It wasn’t like he’d figured out anything about grief or loss.
“That Coast Guardsman should’ve done more. He should’ve gotten Jackson out first. Instead, he waited too long, and our son may never wake up.” With that, her voice cracked. “I don’t know much, but I know he is not supposed to be in this bed right now.”
He wouldn’t remind her that Jessup had tried to save Jackson right away. He wouldn’t say that it was an accident because that might negate her feelings, and she was certainly entitled to them. Besides, they weren’t here to convince her she was wrong.
They were only here to offer help.
“If you don’t want us to name the regatta after Jackson,” Louisa said, “we won’t. But the community would love to do something to support your family right now. We’d love to have the chance to honor your son.”
Deborah turned away and didn’t say another word.
Louisa slowly stood. She rummaged through her bag and withdrew a blue business card, just like the one Duncan had given him before his first meeting with her.
“Think it over.” She held the card out to Mr. Wirth. “Let us know.”
He took the card with a quiet nod. “We will.”
“It was good to meet you both,” Louisa said.
Deborah remained still, refusing to look at either of them, but Louisa seemed unfazed.
“Thank you,” Mr. Wirth said. “We really appreciate it.”
Louisa shook his hand, radiating warmth as only she could do. “We would love to help.”
He was certain Mrs. Wirth was likely biting back angry words, but she said nothing as the two of them escaped into the hallway.
“Well, that could’ve gone better,” Louisa said. “But I suppose it’s what I expected.”
Cody tucked his hat under his arm and drew in a tight breath. “Do you think she’ll come around?”
Louisa shrugged. “I’m not sure. I don’t want to push her, so I’ll start looking at alternatives, but I really would love to do something to help their family if we can.”
He studied her for a long moment, thinking that her authenticity inspired him. He didn’t meet many truly genuine people—or maybe he simply didn’t stick around long enough to find out if they were genuine.
With Louisa, there was no question.
“You okay?” She studied him now, her big eyes fixed on him.
“Yep. Good.” He started toward the elevator. “I hope they come around.”
Email to Louisa two days after her visit to Mr. and Mrs. Wirth:
Dear Miss Chambers,
We appreciate your visit to Jackson earlier this week. I apologize if we seemed ungrateful in any way. As you can imagine, there is a lot of emotion to sort through. The truth is, the day before your visit, the doctors told us we were only prolonging the inevitable. Our Jackson is gone. Deborah knows it. I know it. But neither of us is ready to let him go.
I know our anger seems misplaced, and maybe it is. Maybe we are simply looking for someone to blame. Because believing it was human error and not something God allowed to happen to our son is easier.
Because if God simply turned his face in Jackson’s hour of need, where does that leave us?
Anyway, we would be honored for you to name the regatta after our boy. He was so joyful and full of life once upon a time. I think he’d get a kick out of something so cool being held in his honor.
Thank you for your kindness.
Sincerely,
Manny Wirth
CHAPTER TWENTY
IF THERE WAS ONE THING LOUISA KNEW ABOUT NANTUCKET, it was that the people on the island loved a good party. And if there was one thing she knew about herself, it was that she loved to throw one.
Her time at the hotel had helped connect her with the island’s top philanthropists, and that was proving to be very helpful.