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Authors: Autumn Markus

Tags: #Romance, #General, #Fiction

Cocktails & Dreams (41 page)

BOOK: Cocktails & Dreams
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Jena did, but she was shocked Nick had said anything about it to her father. She nodded.

“I gave my blessing, but now…” Rob grimaced and rubbed the back of his neck. “Damn it, Jena, was I wrong? What you’ve told us about him today doesn’t exactly sound like happy marriage material.”

“No, Dad,” Jena immediately protested. “There are so many good things about Nicholas that you wouldn’t know from my rant. He’s kind, and funny, and smart, and so—” Jena stopped in frustration, feeling like she was describing a friend, feeling totally unable to verbalize what drew her to Nicholas.

“Intense? Controlling? Asshole?” her dad suggested, his expression dark.

“No! No—devoted.” Jena winced, convinced that now it sounded like she was describing a pet. “Loving.” She rubbed her sweaty palms on her jeans, remembering with discomfort the many times she’d worried about their relationship. “Intense, I might have to give you.”

Rob grunted, looking unconvinced. “I guess I have to trust you on this. I can’t say that I had any worries when he spoke to me. Maybe the stress with his dad…Hell, I don’t know.” He waved his hand in dismissal of the topic and took a sip of his tea before he spoke again.

“What do you intend to do about Nicholas, Jena? Let’s say that he’s not a total ass, that what happened is an aberration. You just painted us a picture of what sounds like a pretty all right guy, but I’m still seeing doubt in your eyes. What are you expecting of him? Perfection? Because, honey, I can tell you right now that it doesn’t exist.”

Jena sighed. “I don’t know anymore, Dad. I don’t expect him to be perfect, especially as it’s been impressed on me very forcefully how not-perfect I am.” She waved away their questioning looks, not even wanting to get into the mess with Leisa right then.

“Two things,” Sharon said quietly. “Do you still think you love each other?”

“Yes. I do, I know, and…yes. We do.” Jena rubbed her forehead and waited for her mother’s second point.

“Can you let that guide how you act? Because, frankly, what you’ve told me doesn’t show very loving behavior. He lashes out and waits forever to apologize and you pull a silent treatment every time your feelings are hurt instead of telling him what’s upsetting you.” Sharon reached across the table and took Rob’s hand. “Jena, honey, if you can’t talk to the one who shares your bed—stop grimacing, Rob—you have no business being there together.”

“And if you spend your time worrying about what could go wrong later, you’re gonna ruin the now,” Rob added. “So, Jena, what you have to ask yourself is, can you trust with your whole heart? If not, walk away right now. No more messing around with ‘wait and see,’ because it’s not fair to you
or
Nicholas. He’s dealing with a lot of family shit right now, from what you’ve told us, and I’m sure that this is just icing on the cake. Can you?”

Jena took a shuddering breath. “I think so. I’m not sure,” she whispered.

Rob got to his feet. “Then you’re using this ticket to check out your options. Mom and I are taking you to the airport for the flight tomorrow morning, Jena. No arguments.” Sharon nodded sadly and gathered their cups before disappearing into the kitchen.

Jena rose from her chair and felt her father’s warm hand on her arm. “Jena…you gotta be sure. Don’t mess with either one of your hearts anymore, okay? They don’t heal anywhere nearly as well as you’d think.” He patted Jena’s arm and went to comfort his wife.

Jena looked at the ticket again, contemplating her mother’s forethought. She could almost see the determination on Sharon’s face when she bought the ticket, trying to do what she could to help her last remaining chick feel better, though the possibility of Jena deciding to stay away had to have killed her.

She turned the ticket over, feeling conflicted. Would using this make her decision any easier, or was it just delaying the inevitable final implosion of her relationship?

Fuck it
, Jena decided, ignoring the tears that had started to flow again. Indecision wracked her as she tried to decide whether to call Nick again or wait for him to return her previous call.
Who has the power now?
she thought, shoving her phone in her pocket.

As the night crept by and her phone remained silent, though, the idea crept in that perhaps Nick was really done with her this time, that maybe getting away for a while would be a good thing. Though her mind told a good story, her heart refused to buy it; she finally gave up mopping her cheeks and just waited silently for daylight to arrive.

Jena couldn’t miss the look her parents exchanged as she dragged her suitcase into the kitchen the next morning. She tried to smile at them, grateful that they refrained from commenting on her wan appearance, but seemed to have lost the ability to call forth that expression. They ate breakfast in a silence more suited to mourning than an imminent vacation, and Jena soon found herself seated between them at the airport, waiting for her flight to board. Though she still hadn’t heard from Nicholas, her evening pity party was over; now his continued silence was starting to scare her.

This is wrong. Wrong. Wrong flight. Just wrong.
Every thump of Jena’s heart brought another variation of what a big mistake she was making. She rose from her seat and walked a few steps away from her parents, quickly dialing her phone. She needed to talk to Nicholas and was sick and fucking tired of holding on to her fears.

Ring.

Ring.

Ring.

Damn it, answer the phone!
she thought, chewing on the cuticle around her thumbnail and sitting back on her heels.

A gentle hand on her shoulder drew her eyes to Sharon’s sympathetic face. Jena could feel the panic building in her chest, and knew her mother could see it. “Honey, that was the boarding call. You have to get on the plane now.”

Jena lowered her phone slowly and stood up, picking up her bag. Rob squeezed her roughly and kissed the top of her head, while Sharon stood back, sorrow filling her eyes; she hugged Jena gently.

Jena nodded and trudged to the security gate.

She wasn’t sure she knew anything anymore.

Chapter Twenty-Five

T
HE
D
AYS
I
N
B
OSTON
passed with agonizing slowness after Nick received the box of his belongings from Jena. It remained in the entryway of his parents’ house, a reminder every time he nearly tripped over it of the catastrophe he’d made of his personal life. The grinding hours at the hospital, interspersed with short hours of restless sleep, made time pass in a hazy mishmash that reminded him of what life was like before he’d moved in with Jena; he couldn’t imagine how he’d survived that once when it was hurting so much now. The two weeks since he’d last heard her voice felt like forever.

Nick clung to the time he could steal each day to write to Jena, sending her a song, or a memory, or just a thought. Jena usually responded within minutes and, no matter how foolish it seemed, Nick hung on to that thin lifeline because it meant that hearing from him was as important to her as writing to her was to him. She never called or asked him to call her, though. It was the hardest fucking thing he’d ever done to leave the phone alone, but he was determined not to screw up this time. He still didn’t want her to come out of pity…but it was hard. She just commented on the memory, sometimes on the song, and always sent her love for him and hoped that his dad’s condition was improving.

Which it wasn’t. Though he’d let Laura talk him into having the surgery, William’s fear that it wouldn’t be enough seemed to be well founded. Alex and the other surgeons had pulled a marathon session and had emerged from the OR weary and sober. They’d advised Laura and Nicholas that they’d done the best they could to take care of the cluster of weak vessels, but could make no guarantees that other vessels in the immediate area weren’t similarly weakened. Cauterizing any more veins would definitely compromise blood flow too drastically, so they’d decided to honor William’s wishes and leave any questionable veins alone.

Nicholas had expected his mother to fall apart at the dim prognosis, but she’d seemed to take a sort of comfort in the idea that at least they had tried everything, and what would happen…would happen. Though colleagues and friends came and went, Nick and Laura spent nearly every minute of every day at the hospital, the three of them finally taking time to talk, in a way that they hadn’t before. Limits seemed silly. Whether William made it through for a day or if he had years, Nicholas knew that it was important for them to finally really know each other.

What William wanted to know most, though, was about Jena. How Nicholas met her. How he felt about her. How she felt about Nick. How they lived. Why she wasn’t there. When Nicholas told them that he hadn’t asked her to come and why, they were quiet, and then moved on to another topic. He answered questions for as long as he could, but as each day went by and the distance seemed to grow between him and Jena, he would talk about her a little less. It just hurt too damned bad.

When William’s questions turned to school and concerns over how much time his son had missed so far, Nick was startled to realize that finals would be coming up very shortly—just a couple of weeks, really. He excused himself, wandering out into the hall and imagining what Jena would be doing now: would she have her books out on their bed, studying, or would they be all over the table as she scribbled furiously? He felt the first, faint stirrings of the smile he thought he’d lost and pulled out his phone, impulsively deciding to send her a message right then, though he usually tried to wait until evening. He let his mind wander, hovering over the keys of his phone as he decided what song to send that day. The smile finally burst forth when he thought of the first song that had meant something to them together. He searched for the Coldplay file he wanted, losing himself in the memory of how warm and soft Jena had felt in his arms, smiling again at how nervous he’s been that night. He found the song he wanted and sent it off with a heartfelt note, then waited anxiously for Jena’s response.

His heart lurched painfully when he opened her reply: an almost impersonal
thank you
and
I love you
.

He tried to IM her, but there was no response.

With a growing sense of the hopelessness of his situation, Nick knew that he needed to get out of the hospital, even for a few minutes. He stuck his head in Will’s doorway and told his parents that he’d be right back, and then headed outside to the benches in the courtyard.

Clearing the first seat he came to of snow, Nicholas flopped down and rested his head against the arm that was lying across his knees. His emotions felt raw and bruised, and he didn’t know how much longer he could keep trying.

Sudden warmth enveloped him, as well as his father’s scent, as Laura set William’s cashmere topcoat on his shoulders.

She dusted off the seat beside Nicholas and sat down, handing him a cup of coffee that he dearly wished was something stronger. “I didn’t know where you’d put your coat, Nicholas. You looked cold.” She pointed up, and he craned his neck to follow the line of sight. “Your dad’s room is right there.”

“Yeah. Thanks.” He stared across the snow-covered lawn and into the trees that ringed the property, wishing he was home and could see Jena’s face.

“Did you talk to Jena?” Her voice was cool and non-committal.

“If you can call it that.” He took another sip and set the cup aside, using the motion of turning to avoid his mother’s searching gaze. “I really fucked up this time, Mom. I think I might be losing her, and I just…I don’t know what to do.” He rested his forehead against his arms again.

“Call her.”

“I can’t.” Nick looked up, his eyes pleading for her understanding. “I promised, Mom, and I’ve screwed up so many things already…” The full weight of loss hit him then, and he gritted his teeth, wiping the heel of his hand roughly against his cheekbone to stop the wetness from traveling any further. “Big fucking baby, right? I went through most of my life not feeling much of anything, you know?
Pleasant
would be the best description of what I felt. Now I feel
everything
, and it really sucks.” A laugh flew out of Nick’s mouth, and he caught it with a gasp, feeling the pressure in his chest build, the ache.

“I blame myself,” Laura said quietly and placed her hand on his when he shook his head. “Let me take this little bit of responsibility, Nicholas.” She paused for a minute. “Did I ever tell you that I’m your dad’s also-ran?”

Nick looked up quickly, and she nodded. “It’s true. He was in love with a girl named Janet. It was quite the passionate affair. They were inseparable, and your father wanted to marry her after the first month they were together.” Laura’s eyes were skating out at the rim of trees.

“What happened?” he asked quietly, turning his hand so their palms nestled together.

“She got pregnant and decided not to carry the baby. Will was devastated by that, and even more when she dropped him soon afterward and moved on to a fraternity brother.” Her voice was bitter.

“So—”

“How did I enter the picture? I had quite the crush on Will, and had gone out with him a few times before he met her. A month or so after she was gone, he asked me out again.” She shrugged. “I had the breeding, I suppose. He liked me well enough, and we got along. One thing led to another, and we got married. And it’s been a good marriage, on the whole. But Will was never quite the outgoing boy I first met, and I think I always held my love back a little with you so you wouldn’t expect from your dad what he couldn’t give. Wouldn’t compare us and judge him unfavorably. Because he does love you, Nicholas. Fiercely. Especially when we found out that we couldn’t have any more children.” She squeezed Nick’s hand tightly and then dropped a kiss in his palm before rising to her feet. “Don’t ever be embarrassed by feeling, Nicholas, and don’t hold it back any more. I was wrong to do that. Don’t give up on that girl, either. Keep writing, son. Stay in her head. Make her think about you.” She patted his shoulder firmly. “Go catch a couple of hours’ sleep, Nick.” He watched her walk back through the lighted doors of the hospital.

Nicholas sat for a moment, wrapping his brain around what she’d said, before rising and taking her advice. He drove through the snowy streets, trying not to think; for just a few minutes he needed blessed silence from the turbulence of his thoughts. He paused at the box he’d stubbornly refused to move as he came through the front door, sifting through it for a clean pair of pajama bottoms and savoring the scent of home that drifted out as he moved things around. He’d fully intended on shipping the huge thing back to Davis, but couldn’t quite give that smell up yet. Checking for any more messages from Jena, Nicholas opened new mail to find a picture of the two of them that Leisa had taken the night of the concert. In it, Nick was standing behind Jena, arms wrapped around her body and his chin resting on the top of her head. Jena’s eyes were closed, a tiny smile on her lips, one arm resting on top of Nicholas’s with their fingers entwined, and the other hand resting on his neck.

Just that picture.

Nick fell asleep staring at their image.

William was waiting for him when Nick entered his hospital room the next morning, studying a printout of his chart and rapping out orders for tests to the long-suffering nurse while Laura smiled at her sympathetically. He smiled when he spotted Nick and moved to the recliner, the nurse slipping out with a grateful smile.

Laura and William exchanged a glance, and she placed a hand on Nick’s arm. “I’m going to go find Mark, okay?” She left the room, shutting the door behind her.

The men looked at each other and laughed. “That was subtle,” Nicholas remarked.

William waved his hand in the air. “I’m finished with subtle. Too much chance for misunderstanding.” His smile faded a little, and he flopped his hand into his lap. “Your mom said you might want to talk to me about your chat last night.”

“She called herself your also-ran, Dad.” Nick flashed a glance at William’s face before looking down at his hands, not missing his father’s wince.

“That came out when we talked this morning. She’s wrong, Nicholas. Completely wrong. I hope she knows that now. We talked about that for a very long time.” William sighed and rubbed his hands together absently. “Something I haven’t done enough of, apparently. Your mother was everything I wanted. She’s made me very happy for over thirty years, Nicholas, as have you. I’m sorry I held that back, now.”

“And Jena?”

William sighed and stared out the window. “I suppose I could see myself in you, and I started to worry that you’d be hurt. She didn’t look like she was nearly as smitten with you as you seemed to be with her, though I suppose I was wrong about that. I’m sorry for that, because my reaction seems to have triggered the whole mess in September. Mom told me she explained about Sofia?”

“Yeah.” Nicholas rubbed his hands over his face briskly. “What a colossal fuck-up.”

“Indeed.” William rubbed his hands together again, and then looked back at his son. “Speaking of which. Why are you still here? You can’t miss this much school, Nicholas. I never expected you to stay in Boston after my first stroke, and I certainly don’t expect it now.”

“I’ve talked to Dr. Call, Dad. I’ll have to repeat my rotation this summer, but as long as I’m back after the winter break, I won’t have to repeat the year.”

“I could call—” he began, and Nick cut him off.

“No special favors, okay? I want to do this on my own.”

William smiled. “Typical Cooper. Has to do things the hard way. And Jena?”

Nicholas shook his head slowly.

“You need to do something, son. Go home. What’s going to happen here is going to happen whether you’re here or not.” He rubbed his hands together again, and it suddenly struck Nicholas as odd.

“Is something wrong with your hands, Dad? That’s the third time you’ve done that in the last few minutes. Not developing tics now, are you?”

William grimaced and shook his hands. “I just can’t seem to wake them up today. They feel like pins and needles.” Their eyes met for a long moment, and William chuffed out a breath. “Go ahead and call Alex, damn it. I guess it’s time they poked around my head again with a test or two.”

Two very long days of tests followed, and Alex theorized that another very small vessel had burst. Any thought Nicholas was starting to entertain about going back to Davis immediately took a backseat to being with his parents.

What little free time he had was spent on his computer, reliving moments with Jena, and he began to have a suspicion he was treasuring alone, as her responses got shorter and shorter. Nick had been keeping in touch with Conor all along, and had heard about their semi-disastrous breakfast. The impression that Con was left with after that morning, that Jena was retreating into herself, broke Nick’s heart.

Finally, after another few brutal days at the hospital, Nicholas decided to push her. His message that morning had rambled on about “fair” and “power” and he’d finally begged her to talk to him. He waited by the computer, ready for a return mail, but hoping against hope that he’d hear his phone ring.

How long do you wait for a response before you panic? Before words like “over” and “lost” start drumming in your brain in an insane cacophony of sound, and your heart joins in until there seems to be no answer and no end but for you to stop thinking altogether?

Nicholas’s personal limit seemed to be two and a half hours.

He held off going to the hospital while he waited for Jena’s response, telling Laura that he’d meet her there in a little while. And he waited some more. When he finally realized that she wasn’t going to answer, he dashed off a panicked text to Conor, totally forgetting that it was the first day of finals.

As lunchtime approached, Nick finally gave up on waiting for a response from either of them and hurried to the hospital. He found both of his parents and the doctors waiting. Laura’s face was void of expression.

Alex launched right into his diagnosis, describing a condition much like the one that had precipitated William’s surgery. As the doctor finished his summation, Laura looked at her son, hoping for wisdom. A tiny shake of William’s head let Nicholas know his wishes. With a single word, Nicholas ended the trying time, and the waiting time began. After a while, he left his parents in quiet discussion and took a cab to the Common, sitting on a bench and not really thinking about anything for a while, until his phone rang and Conor’s voice filled his ear.

BOOK: Cocktails & Dreams
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