Love's Stormy Gale (Heartsong Presents) (9 page)

“Sure, why not?”

When they entered the house, Jonathan could smell a whiff of Olivia’s perfume lingering in the air. Sam cracked his knuckles, pushed a button and the computer whirred to life. Within a few minutes Sam had pulled up some websites for boat engines.

“This is great, Sam. I need to write these down.”

“Never mind that. Watch.” He pushed a button, and the price list printed. A coughing fit racked his body. Sam snatched a tissue from the box on the desk and held it to his mouth.

“Hey, are you okay?”

Sam nodded and mumbled around the tissue. “This will pass. Just a fall bug I picked up. Do me a favor. Make a pot of decaf, would you?”

“Sure.” Jonathan left for the kitchen. Something was wrong with Sam. He felt it in his gut. He got the coffee brewing, all the while thinking of ways to convince the man he needed to see a doctor. More coughing came from the front room.

Maybe someone could talk some sense into the mule-headed lobsterman. Jonathan squared his shoulders, preparing to announce that coffee would be ready soon. He froze when he saw Sam sitting at the desk.

He hadn’t seen so much blood in one place since Stumpy bashed his head on his bunk the last time they’d shipped out. The tissue Sam held up to his mouth bloomed red, and drops of blood had spattered on his shirt and onto the hardwood floor.

Chapter 11

“T
hanks. I had fun.” Olivia shivered in the chilly air as Frank escorted her to her front door. She appreciated his following her home to make sure she arrived all right.

“I did, too. It was nice seeing the town again, even if we missed the play.” Frank’s eyes glowed under the porch light. They’d gone for a drive in his car, past the high school stomping grounds and to the harbor park.

“I can make us some more coffee if you want to stay for a bit. Dad might be up.” She noted her father’s truck in the driveway and wondered about his reaction to Frank.

“Sounds good.”

Olivia’s key turned too easily in the lock, and when she turned to push the door open, she expected to see the glow of lights from the living room and hear the late news show blaring. Pop would be snoring in the easy chair.

Then she saw the bloody tissues on the floor in front of the desk.

“What in the world?” Her pulse leaped into her throat.

Frank stood next to her in the front room. “What’s wrong?”

“I need to find out what happened to Dad.” She gestured to the tissues. Her stomach had tied itself into a knot. “Dad? Where are you?” She checked her phone, which she’d muted. Jonathan had called an hour ago.

Lights were on throughout the downstairs and a full pot of coffee waited on the kitchen counter. The linen closet door was open, and a few towels had fallen to the floor. As Olivia scanned the empty house, pinpricks of dread tingled her spine.

“I need to call Jonathan.” Olivia noticed the answering machine light blinking.

She played the message. “Liv, it’s Jon. I brought your dad to the E.R. tonight. He’s got pneumonia, so they want to keep him.” The phone line crackled. “If you get home before midnight, come to the E.R.—they don’t expect to have a room for him by then. I’ll wait for you.”

Olivia felt chilled to the core at Jonathan’s words, but hearing his voice sent a warmth through her that dulled the cold. Frank’s hand held her elbow.

“I’ll drive you.”

“Thanks. I need to get some things for Dad in case they keep him.”
Think, don’t panic, think.

She pounded up the stairs to her father’s room. Olivia couldn’t remember the last time she’d entered the hallowed territory.

The picture of a dark-haired woman wearing a prim sweater and a pearl necklace smiled at Olivia. She ignored the impulse to turn the picture of her mother facedown on the nightstand. Instead, Olivia found one of her dad’s work shirts, some underclothes, pajamas and a pair of pants in the bureau.

He’d kept her mother’s picture. Her mother still smiled at Olivia’s dad each night before he turned in. Was that why he sometimes fell asleep downstairs at night? Why didn’t he just put her photo away for good?

“And if he got rid of your picture, you’d be gone forever.” Olivia shivered and rubbed her arms. She’d have to turn on the heat before she left.

No time now, though, to let any feelings about her mother resurface. Frank waited downstairs and Dad needed her. Olivia prayed for strength to make it through the next hours with her emotions intact. The fact that Jonathan and Frank would both be with her seemed unimportant. She’d deal with any awkward moments if or when they happened.

* * *

Jonathan drank the last sip of his third cup of coffee from the vending machine. He was running out of change and his body screamed for sleep. He’d come in that morning, early, from a fishing trip and hadn’t rested. Now he wished he had.

His second wind came when he saw Olivia enter the emergency room’s sliding doors. She carried an overnight bag and her gaze met his. Frank Pappalardo followed in her wake.

“Where’s Dad?” Olivia placed the overnight bag on the floor.

Then she was in Jonathan’s arms, holding on as if he were a lifeline. Jonathan allowed himself to breathe in the scent of her hair, still down around her shoulders. She trembled as he held her.

Remembering Frank, Jonathan released her from the hug, but kept an arm around her shoulders and took the bag. “He’s still in an exam room. They’ve given him an antibiotic shot and some breathing treatments to clear up his lungs, and he’s on oxygen now.”

“I want to talk to his nurse or doctor or whoever’s in charge.” She looked around the room as though she would pounce on the next official-looking person wearing scrubs who came in her direction.

“We’ll find someone. There’s the nurse who gave him the shot. We’ll talk to her.” Jonathan steered Olivia toward the clerk writing notes on a clipboard. He noticed Frank had taken a seat.

Jonathan introduced Olivia to the nurse, who escorted her back to the exam room wing of the E.R.

Frank had removed his tie when Jonathan returned to the waiting area. Even though Frank looked tired, he still wore the
GQ
look women went nuts over. Jonathan couldn’t remember the last time he had worn a tie. He wasn’t quite sure if he owned one.

“Hey, I’m Jonathan Barrotta.” He extended his hand, which Frank shook. Jonathan took the seat across from Frank.

“Frank Pappalardo.”

“Yeah. You used to live here when we were kids. Sam told me earlier.”

Frank nodded. “I came back to work and be near some of my family. I never liked living in the mountains in western Mass. Too landlocked for me.”

Jonathan had seen Frank in church but hadn’t introduced himself yet. It didn’t seem they had much in common. Except for the Lord and Olivia. There had to be something else to talk about, to break the ice. Jonathan didn’t want to clam up and act like a jerk, even if Frank had spent more time with Olivia tonight than Jonathan had in the last month.

“So, you been following the playoffs?” Jonathan ventured with a question.

Frank nodded. “In fact, my uncle’s hoping to get World Series tickets if the Sox make it. Wouldn’t that be something?” Then he laughed. “Imagine that. Maybe they’d win.”

Jonathan snorted. “Yeah! That’d be something, all right, considering the Pats’ Super Bowl win.”

Conversation fell flat after that. A schoolteacher, that’s what Frank did for a living. What would he and a fisherman have to talk about? Jonathan secretly hoped Frank would leave.

“You teach school?”

“Yeah, third grade. I’ve got my hands full, but I love kids. I like knowing I’m having an impact on their future.” Frank’s face took on an animated expression as he began telling stories of “his kids,” as he called them. In a way, Jonathan realized, the man reminded him of Robby. He had the same charisma, open smile and charming nature. And it took a special man to devote his career to children. Of course Olivia liked Frank.

An hour later, Olivia appeared. She hesitated as though not sure about which man to sit near, then settled onto a chair a few seats down from both of them.

“Well, Dad’s doing okay. He’s in his room now. They, uh, found a spot on his right lung so they’re going to do a CAT scan in the morning.” She looked from Frank to Jonathan. “Thanks, guys, for staying so late. I appreciate it.” A pretty blush suffused her cheeks.

Frank spoke up first. “It’s no problem. Are you ready to go now, or are you staying longer?”

She grinned. “Dad ordered me to go home and rest. I can come back in the morning.”

Jonathan stood. She came with Frank, and she’d leave with Frank. He could live with that. He knew when to back off when she and Robby started dating. He could do the same again.

“Good night, then. Liv, if there’s anything I can do...” The words sounded feeble to his ears.

“Thanks, Jon. You’ve been terrific. I’m glad you were there tonight.” Her voice caught. She squeezed his arm.

But as he left, Jonathan knew she wouldn’t call him. Not as long as she had Frank around.

* * *

The house had warmed up nicely by the time Olivia arrived home. Frank walked her to the door, and they said good-night, which was nearly all they’d said since leaving the hospital. She wanted to talk to someone and his friendship felt too new to lay this on him. Poor Frank.

Olivia showered again, letting the water warm her chilled soul and turn her fingers wrinkly. Once settled into her warm terry cloth robe and slippers, she sat at the kitchen table with a cup of decaf coffee and her Bible. No matter that it was after one in the morning. Sleep could wait.

Oh, Dad, why didn’t you listen? Why didn’t you get rid of that tobacco years ago?
She wouldn’t allow herself to think the worst. Maybe the doctors had made a mistake about the spot on his lung. Tomorrow morning when she went to the hospital, she would find her dad driving the nurses nuts and packing to go home. He would resume griping about the high price of diesel fuel and mumbling that the market lobster prices needed to be higher.

Olivia started to pray, then fumbled over her words. “Why, God? Why now?” she muttered at the sacred pages before her. “It’s always like playing Russian roulette when I pray. I prayed—” Her voice caught in her throat.

The image came back to her of a little girl with brown pigtails, hands folded as she knelt at her bedside, begging God for her mommy to come home to them. No answer. Then Robby. A resounding “no.” More recently, Maggie and the baby. She got her answer that time. Both were still safe and doing well. And now, Olivia poised at the edge of asking God to help again.

“I’m sorry, Lord. I’m afraid to ask You. Afraid I’ll be disappointed again.” She whisked a fallen tear from the thin page. “I don’t know what to do.”

After several minutes of listening to the furnace powering up to cycle heat through the house, listening to the coffeepot gurgle on the counter and the refrigerator compressor cycle on, Olivia stood up and sighed. The heavens were as brass. Her well-ordered life was a sham. Under the still waters, the current churned violently. She spent a restless night, dreading the coming morning.

* * *

Jonathan whistled under his breath as he walked to Sam’s hospital room. After a few cups of coffee, he actually felt half-human. Maybe Olivia would be with her father. He wasn’t sure whether he hoped to see her or not.

He knocked softly on the door frame before entering. Sam was dabbing at a plate of fruit, yogurt and toast while the television blared news from the twenty-four-hour station.

“Hey, Sam. You scared us last night.”

“I still say I’ve got one of those autumn colds.” Sam swallowed, then continued. “They already sent me down for a scan. The doctor’s going to let me know soon when I can go home.”

“Uh-huh.” Jonathan settled into the soft vinyl-covered chair by the window. He peeked out through the blinds. “It’s a great day out. I’m pulling out again come Monday. I hope the weather holds.”

“It should.” Sam struck his fist on the bed table. “I’ve gotta check my traps. I need to bring them in, get to the market. Aye, there’s always something. Do you think they’d notice if I slipped out the back door?”

“Yes, sir. It would be pretty quiet around here.”

“Watch it, son.” Sam’s eyes twinkled despite his gruff tone.

“What would be quiet around here?” Olivia said as she came into the room. “Have you been hassling the nurses, Dad?”

“Just when they won’t let me go to the bathroom without permission. At least they let me change into my own pajamas.” Sam huffed and sipped his coffee.

Olivia laughed as she stood by her father’s bed, but Jonathan noticed dark circles under her eyes. “Please, go easy on them.”

“And you, missie.” He rubbed Olivia’s arm. “You quit losing sleep over me. I’ve got lots of lobsters to trap, a boat to work on. I’m not going anywhere.”

“I’ll try not to worry.”

“Barrotta, you keep an eye on her for me.”

“Now, Sam, I don’t think Liv needs watching over.”

“Are you arguing with me?”

Olivia spoke up. “Dad, I’ll be fine. In fact, Frank called this morning and his uncle Isadore has offered to haul your pots in for you and take everything to market. So you concentrate on getting better.”

“Good morning, Mr. Shea.” A young man in a white lab coat and a stethoscope dangling around his neck stood in the doorway. “I’m Dr. Misek. Dr. McKinley’s at a conference this week, but we’ve notified his office that you’ve been admitted. So, how are you feeling this morning?”

Sam shifted higher on the bed. “Doing great. I’m ready to go home.”

Dr. Misek nodded. “Good, good. I’m going to have some more labs drawn this morning and check your breathing, and if all goes well you’ll go home this afternoon. First, though, I’ve got the results of your scan.”

Jonathan joined Olivia at her father’s bedside. Her fingers clamped around the bed rail. He wanted to rest a hand on her shoulder, to assure her he was there.

“The mass in your right lung is about two centimeters long by one centimeter wide. It’s too early to tell right now if it’s cancerous. We’ll cross that bridge after we get the infection in your body under control and can schedule a biopsy.” His gentle tones made Olivia relax her hold on the bed rail. Jonathan wondered if her fingers had made indentations in the metal. “But I want to schedule that biopsy as soon as possible. After that, we’ll know what we’re dealing with.”

“All right, Doc. If there’s something in my lung that doesn’t belong, I want it out. Thanks for giving it to me straight.” Sam sighed, and Olivia frowned. He glanced up at her. “Now, Liv, don’t look like that. I’m going to fight this, whatever it is.”