Home To You Page 25

  “He’s gone . . .” She watched her father’s lips move—he was talking, but she couldn’t hear anything beyond the rushing of blood through her ears. She was going to be sick. She turned and ran to the bathroom, her hand over her mouth, her vision blurred with tears. She thought it was just one of his headaches.

  He’s gone.

  Jack’s gone.

  Kendall barely made it to the toilet. She’d never vomited while sobbing before, and she couldn’t breathe. She didn’t even care.

  “Kendall?” Her father crouched beside her; his strong hand rubbed her back.

  A wet washcloth hit her forehead as she wretched.

  She couldn’t stop crying; she couldn’t breathe. Oh, God, Jack. Inside her head she kept screaming No! No! No! This couldn’t be happening, but it was. The cold of the tile floor seeped through the knees of her jeans. Her stomach roiled, and her skin felt cold and clammy.

  “Here, let’s wipe your face. Look, baby girl. I didn’t mean to upset you, but Jax asked me to stop by and give you a letter on my way back from the airport.”

  She heard her father’s voice, but nothing made sense. She tried to breathe normally. “The airport?” She let out a stuttered hiccup. “Wh-wh-what were you doing at the airport?”

  “I told you—I dropped Jax off at the airport. He caught the first flight to Chicago this morning.”

  “Chicago? Jack didn’t die? He left?” She sank back on her heels and looked through her tears at her father’s pale face. “When you said Jack was gone—I thought you meant gone, like dead.”

  “Oh, God, no. I’m sorry. No, Jax is fine physically. It’s just the rest of it that worries me.”

  “He left?” As she pulled her sweater around herself, she felt numb, cold, empty, and a strange humming filled her head. It was really over. Jack had gone. But instead of a Dear Kendall e-mail, he sent a Dear Kendall letter delivered by her father. She didn’t think anything could beat David’s exit, but Jack had managed to do it.

  “Come on, let’s get you up.” Her dad lifted her off the floor, and she grabbed hold of the counter. Somehow her legs held her. She looked at her reflection in the mirror. She could pass as a cast member of some movie about the zombie apocalypse—blank, pale, vacant, alone.

  Her dad filled a glass with water. “Here you go—rinse your mouth. You’ll feel better. You just had a shock. Jax is okay. Everything is fine.”

  Everything was not fine. Jack had left without a word. He didn’t even say good-bye. She’d been right: he didn’t love her. It was just a line. She might have known better, but she still wished . . .

  No matter how many deep breaths she took, no matter how many sobs she swallowed, no matter how hard she bit her lip or how many times her father told her that everything was going to be fine, she couldn’t hold back the fall of silent tears.

  Her father put an arm around her and murmured soothing words into her hair as he helped her to the kitchen.

  Erin poured her a glass of water and tapped two Excedrin into her hand. “Do you want tea or coffee?”

  When Kendall didn’t answer, Erin squeezed her shoulder. “It’s okay. I’ll make both.”

  Kendall kept her eyes on the cool water glass she squeezed between both hands. Her tears dripped onto the front of her sweater, soaking in, making dark spots on the light gray material. “Did Jack tell you anything?” Her voice cracked and squeaked, so she pressed trembling lips together, trying to reel in her unraveling emotions, trying to get a grip on control.

  Her father sat across from her and cleared his throat. When she met his gaze, he raised his brows and tilted his head toward Erin.

  “Don’t worry. Erin’s a medical professional. She knows everything said here stays here.”

  He nodded an apology toward Erin, and his shoulders sank as if he’d sprung a slow leak. “Yes, Jax told me about his . . . um, problem.”

  Kendall barked a rough laugh through her tears. “His problem? That’s an understatement. Losing the ability to comprehend and work with numbers would be a problem for any normal human being, but for Jackson Sullivan, it’s a disaster of epic proportions with implications I can’t even begin to fathom.”

  “Agreed. But he’s not only worried about the news getting out to the financial community—he made me promise not to breathe a word of it to your mother and Racquel. He doesn’t want to worry them unnecessarily. And while I don’t agree with hiding things, I do see his point. There’s nothing any of us can do but wait and pray that his brain heals.”

  Erin put her hand on Teddy’s shoulder. “What can I get you—tea or coffee?”

  “Just black coffee, please.”

  Erin handed him a mug, and he stared into it as if it held the answers to all of life’s questions. Kendall wished it did; maybe then he could tell her why she’d fallen in love with two men who both seemed to be liars. Not only had they left her, but they made her feel like a fool for ever loving them. It wasn’t even real. Everything she had with Jack . . . She’d fallen in love with a lie.

  “Here you go, Kendall. Just how you like it.” Erin placed a cup of coffee in front of her and pried her hands away from the glass she’d been focusing on.

  “Kendall,” Her dad waited until the silence got so loud, she was forced to look at him. She didn’t want to hear this. She knew what was coming: the excuses. “Now that I know, I understand why Jax didn’t tell you who he was. If this information were to get out, the financial ramifications could be disastrous, and that’s before you take his personal loss into consideration. If Jax doesn’t make a full recovery, I don’t know what he’s going to do. Jax’s work has been his whole life.”

  Her father’s words repeated in Kendall’s head, Jax’s work has been his whole life . . . his whole life. Kendall took a sip of coffee. Her eyes burned from crying, and her face felt swollen. “That’s not true—Jack’s whole life hasn’t been work. He told me if his brain heals, he had a job. But now he knows the difference between a job and a life. He said when he was in Chicago, he had a job but no life.” But, then, maybe that was a lie too.

  Erin sat at the table beside her. “That’s so sad. So why is he flying back to Chicago, where he has no life, when you’re right here?” She tossed a few Excedrin in her mouth and chased them with water.

  “I don’t know.” Kendall felt the tear flow increase to the point where her nose was running too, and she wiped it on her shoulder. She took a deep breath and let exhaustion overtake her. “Maybe he didn’t want a life after all. I guess it’s a good thing, then, that his brain is healing. I know it is.” Tears kept falling, and she wiped her face. “His ability to understand numbers is returning. He might not notice it, but over the past two weeks, I’ve seen a marked improvement. I don’t know if he’ll ever be the same as he was before the accident, but I don’t see why he can’t relearn the things that don’t come back automatically. His intellect doesn’t seem to have been affected.”

  Erin grabbed her iPad. “You know, after I met Janie and Cameron, I did a little research on the brain.”

  “Just a little research, huh?” Knowing Erin, she probably knew enough about the human brain to pass the neurology board exams. “Dad, Erin’s soon-to-be daughter, Janie, survived a brain tumor. Erin met them when she was doing private-duty nursing.”

  “Oh, that’s right. Grace told me you’d recently become engaged. Congratulations.”

  “Thanks.” From her smile, Erin obviously had visions of Cam and Janie dancing through her head.

  Kendall took a sip of coffee and cleared her throat. “You were saying something about research?”

  “Oh, right. I read a study in the Journal of Neuroscience about researchers who studied epilepsy patients who had electrodes implanted into their brains to determine the source of their seizures. During the study, they discovered a cluster of specialized brain cells that deal specifically with numbers.”

  Kendall didn’t want to care. She didn’t want to feel anything. She just wanted to go numb. But
looking at her dad, knowing how torn up he was about Jack, how could she not? “Jack had no problem reading, which I thought was strange. Numbers and letters are both symbols, right? Why would his ability to read not be affected? It seems as if he only has problems with anything having to do with numbers.”

  “That’s what the researchers wondered too, so they were able to study their patients’ brains while showing them symbols, numbers, and letters, and the electrodes were able to pinpoint exactly where the brain activity was. When they showed them numbers, these specialized clusters lit up like Times Square. It turns out they’re located in the region that extends into both sides of the head, near the ear canals.” She pointed just behind the temple and slid her fingers back toward her ears.

  “Jack said one side of his head and face took the brunt of the damage.”

  Erin sipped her coffee and nodded. “That makes sense. After all, that’s where most of the pressure would be if he had a side impact.” Erin looked over at Kendall’s dad, who leaned against the kitchen counter. “The brain is like a sponge inside a ball. If you hit this side”—she pointed to the side of her head by her ear—“the brain will hit the skull here.” She pointed to the opposite side. “And then slosh back and forth.”

  Kendall didn’t want to think about the accident—or the sloshing back and forth. “The good news is, Jack’s doing better. When the ceiling fell down—”

  “What? What ceiling?”

  “In the cabin. The roof had a bad leak, and the plaster ceiling in the small bedroom fell down. But don’t worry: Jack is reroofing the place. He got it all dried in before the nor’easter hit.”

  Her dad looked pretty impressed. “He did?”

  “Yeah, not too bad for a guy who couldn’t count. You didn’t expect him to just sit around, crying in his Wheaties and not do anything, did you?”

  “I guess I hadn’t thought about it, and when I was up at the cabin, I was too busy to notice.”

  “I helped him measure the furring strips. He would tell me how many of whatever it was he needed. He couldn’t have done that a week ago. His sense of time has gotten better too. We played cards, and he had no problem recognizing the suits or the face cards, just the numbers. He’s connecting them with the words. Once we got past his humongous ego, he did really well.”

  Her dad took an envelope out of his pocket and set it on the table in front of her. “He asked me to give this to you.”

  She stared at the envelope—her name printed with broad, slashing strokes that cut her to ribbons before she even opened it. She kept her hands tightly wrapped around the now-cool coffee cup to keep from reaching for it. If she opened it, it would be real, undeniable. There would be no question, no hope, no dreams. Everything would be final.

  When her dad shifted in his seat and broke Kendall’s stare, she realized she had no idea how long she’d been staring at that envelope. She tried to ignore it, but it was like a living, breathing thing, calling her. “Your mom told me what happened with David. I’d like to say I’m sorry, and I hate that he hurt you, but, baby girl, I never thought he was the right man for you.”

  “Yeah, thanks for the heads-up. It seems as if everyone knew he wasn’t the one but me, and no one bothered to mention it.”

  Her dad took a sip of his coffee and smiled. “One day you’ll see that the hardest part about being a parent is watching your children make their own mistakes. If I had said anything, you would have gotten your back up and done your best to prove me wrong. I was afraid you’d run to the nearest justice of the peace and marry the little bastard just to spite me.” He smiled at Erin. “She gets that from her mother. My Gracie is one hardheaded woman.”

  Erin laughed. “I’m so not taking that bait. I know better—I’ve heard all the stories about you, Teddy Watkins.” She rose, returned the creamer to the refrigerator, and stuck in her head. “Kendall, there’s no food in here.”

  “What did you expect? I’ve been gone for two weeks, remember? I just stopped to pick up cream for coffee. I thought I’d do the big shopping today.”

  Her dad raised his eyebrows. “So, you’re planning to stay in Boston?”

  Kendall couldn’t take her eyes off the envelope lying on the table. “Only long enough to give my landlord notice and pack my things. I want to move back to Harmony.”

  Her father let out what seemed like a relieved breath.

  “I need to find a place to live and at least a part-time job, and I’m going to look into getting a SBA loan. I want to open my own practice, even if I have to start part-time. Even if I get a full-time job, I can still have office hours at night and on weekends until I build up my patient list.”

  “That’s great, Kendall. I’m glad you’re coming home. No offense to Boston, but I never felt like you belonged here.”

  Kendall touched the envelope with the tip of her fingernail. “Neither did I.”

  “Jax said you can stay at the cabin if you want while you’re looking for a place of your own. If you’re not interested, let me know, and I’ll go and clear out the rest of the food and winterize it.”

  “He wants me to stay at the cabin?”

  Her father nodded. “He mentioned that he probably wouldn’t be back until spring.”

  She pictured Jack grabbing ahold of that tree branch and swinging down from the roof. Her eyes filled again. “Yeah, he mentioned finishing the roof once the weather warmed up. I guess it’s not good to put shingles on in the cold.”

  “No. No, it’s not. I’d forgotten he could swing a hammer; it’s been so long. He got into a fight with his uncles one summer, and they held his trust fund over his head, so he told them to stuff it and got a roofing job the next day. Jax always said he liked that job.” Her dad stood, put his coffee cup in the sink, and then stepped in front of her. “Well, I’d better get going. I have a lot of work to catch up on. Addie’s helped a lot while we were away, but there are some things I have to do myself. Besides, your mother is probably pacing the floor, waiting for a report. She wanted me to check to make sure you’re okay. Do me a favor and give her a call to tell her when you’ll be home.”

  “Mom didn’t tell you to scare the crap out of me, did she, Daddy?”

  “Um, no. And if she finds out I did, she’s going to give me such a rash. Why don’t we agree to keep that under our hats, and I won’t tell her that her youngest daughter went out and bought three large boxes of condoms. Deal?”

  “Oh, my God, Jack did not tell you that, did he?”

  “Baby girl, he didn’t need to. I saw the evidence myself. So, do we have a deal?”

  She got up and hugged her father. “Yeah, we have a deal.”

  Erin made herself scarce while Kendall walked her dad to the door.

  He grabbed the doorknob and then stopped and gave her a long, hard look. “Kendall, I’ve known Jax all his life, and I’ve seen him go through a lot of tough times—the loss of his parents, having his Olympic dreams dashed. He sat by Racquel’s bedside for days on end while she recovered from the accident, but I’ve never seen him look more lost and alone than he did yesterday.” He took a deep breath. “If he wasn’t sick as a dog, I would have kicked his ass, and, believe you me, I called him on the carpet. But he looked me square in the eye and told me that he loves you more than his own life. He said he told you, but you didn’t believe him, and he wanted to make sure that you knew.”

  “Why are you telling me this?”

  “Because that’s the only thing he’s ever asked me to do for him.” Her dad shook his head. “He must know how stubborn you are and didn’t trust that you’d read the letter.”

  “I’ll read it.” Eventually.

  Erin stopped beside them at the door with her bag slung over her shoulder. “I’ll ride down with you, Teddy. I need to get home.” Kendall was pulled into another hug.

  “Thanks for coming. I’ve missed you.”

  “Remember what we talked about, and call me if you want help packing or want to chat. Anytime.”


  “I will. Give Janie and Cam a kiss for me.”

  Kendall watched them leave, then closed and locked the door behind them, knowing that her father waited on the other side to hear the dead bolt thrown and the slide of the chain. She grabbed the envelope on her way back to the couch, holding it close to her chest, tugged the blanket up over her head, and cried.

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  Jaime stumbled into his house and found Addie asleep in his favorite chair by the fire. Addie was using one of his jackets as a blanket and had pulled it up under her pointed chin. She’d kicked off her shoes and tucked her feet under her. He sat on the ottoman and watched her sleep. The seemingly permanent worry line above her brows had disappeared in slumber, and her perfectly shaped mouth was curved up in a sexy little Mona Lisa smile—the kind that made him wonder what dirty thoughts were going through her mind, or if it was just wishful thinking on his part. “Probably wishful thinking fueled by lust and tequila. Not the best combination.”

  He and Jax swiped a bottle of tequila from the lake house—although technically it wasn’t stealing, since Jax owned the property. Still, if Grace had gotten wind of it, she wouldn’t have been too happy with either of them. Jaime had driven Jax around the lake to the cabin, and the two of them proceeded to put a pretty big dent in the bottle.

  Jaime put a hand on her shoulder and gave it a shake. “Addison?”

  Her smile got wider, but she didn’t wake up. Shit. He took his jacket off and threw it over the hook on the wall. What the hell was he supposed to do with her? If she slept like that for much longer, she’d have a crick in her neck.

  He knew what he’d like to do with her: slip that ugly jumper off her, stuff it in the fire, and take off the rest of her clothes using only his teeth and mouth. Damn, he was getting hard just thinking about her.