Daniel's Gift (39 page)

"We are equal, Jenny, in every way that counts."

"You're rich. I'm not."

"I can give you money, but you give me so much more. This day was perfect, Jenny." He cupped her face with his hands. "We shared our responsibilities, our dreams. We laughed. We argued. We kissed."

"We didn't kiss," she said softly.

"Let me correct that."

Luke touched her mouth with his. He kissed her with a hunger and a need that went beyond anything he had ever felt before. She was his past, his present, and his future. He wanted her to know it, beyond a doubt.

Jenny pulled away, breathless. Her beautiful brown eyes were filled with desire -- for him.

"We can't go back to the way we were," she said.

"I don't want to go back. I want to go forward."

"Luke, I can't do this right now. Connie -- "

"I know. You have to help your family. Are you sure I can't help?"

"Not this time. But maybe sometime. That's all I can give you right now."

"I'll take it."

* * *

Matt walked into the rowdy bar known only as Joe's, located off a rural road in Woodside. It was a popular spot for bikers, not far from the highway but far enough from the highway patrol. The beer was cheap and cold, the music loud, and the air as nicotine rich as a Marlboro cigarette.

He paused inside the front door, checking out the action before committing himself entirely. He had been hit by enough lineman to be able to take a punch, and he had thrown a few in his time, too, but his body was a lot softer than it used to be. Besides that, he was sober. It had been three days since he had had a drink. A record for him.

Shaking his head, Matt moved further into the bar. The only women present were much older than his niece. They all looked old and hard, some dressed in black leather, some in tight jeans, others in miniskirts, but every outfit screamed out the word sex.

Matt looked around the room, at every table, at every face. No sign of Connie. Thank God! He could leave.

He tried to turn, but something seemed to be in his way. Mystified, he took a side step. Blocked again. He blinked a few times and tried to clear his vision. There was nothing in front of him but air.

He moved to the side. Again, a force came at him, pushing him down the hall as if he were a piece of paper in front of a fan, helpless to the surge of air that moved him in that direction.

Matt found himself in the hall by the phone and the restrooms. The back door leading out to the parking lot was half open. He heard a scream. He took off down the hall. Another scream, a cry for help. He looked out the door.

Shit!

His niece was pushed up against the wall by some punk with his hand up her shirt. The other hand was in Connie's hair, twisting the strands, yanking them off her scalp. She was crying, trying to hit him with her hands, but she wasn't a big girl, and her efforts were futile.

Matt's first instinct was to grab the kid by the neck and throw him across the parking lot. His second instinct was to find a weapon of some sort. He looked in the hall and saw a mop. It wasn't his first choice, but, what the hell .... For added insurance, he grabbed the bucket alongside it.

He ran into the parking lot and tossed the dark, murky water all over the kid's head. The punk gasped and let go of Connie. She paused, shocked.

Matt grabbed her by the arm. "Go on. Get the hell out of here." He pushed the car keys into her trembling fingers as the kid straightened up and came at him.

Matt ducked. The blow landed off his shoulder. He threw his own punch and missed completely, stumbling onto the ground. The punk kicked him in the ribs. Matt groaned and reached for the mop, which suddenly appeared next to him.

Taking the stick, Matt swung it against the kid's legs. The stick broke. The kid didn't.

Damn!

Matt scrambled to his feet.

The kid came at him and swung. The kid's fist never made it to Matt's face. It just stopped, as if it had run into a brick wall.

They stared at each other for a moment, frozen in time. Then the kid reached into his pocket and pulled out a knife. He flicked open the blade.

Matt took a step back. The kid came at him, silently stalking. The silver blade gleamed in the moonlight. The kid's pace increased. He let out a primal scream and rushed forward.

Matt dropped back like a quarterback, faked to the right, moved to his left. The kid hit the wall with his head and fell to the ground.

Jesus! It actually worked.

A horn honked, and Matt saw Connie waving frantically to him from his car. While the kid was getting up, Matt ran to the car, hopped in the passenger seat and held on as Connie floored it. The car spun around on two wheels, and they sped out of the parking lot.

Two miles down the road, Connie pulled over. She was shaking. Her eyes were filled with tears, and her face was bruised and swollen.

"Oh, God," she said. "You saved my life. He was -- he was -- "

Matt took Connie in his arms. Black leather pants, midriff top, and pointed boots didn't hide the fact that she was sixteen and terrified. He patted her on the back, reminded of when she had been a little girl, when she had come to her Uncle Matt because her mother didn't understand.

"It's okay. You're okay now," he said.

She cried, heartbreaking sobs. Tonight she had lost her innocence, if not literally then figuratively. She would never be the same. Matt suddenly wished he could go back and beat the kid to a pulp, make him pay for scaring the hell out of a little girl.

Connie sat back, her face streaked with tears and an overabundance of mascara. "I thought he was nice. I thought he was cool. But that place was horrible. Those guys, they all stared at me -- "

"Forget it. It's over now."

"How did you find me anyway?"

Matt shook his head, suddenly remembering the strange force that had sent him out the back door. "It was weird. I just knew where you were. I almost left, but I didn't. I couldn't. Something was turning me around, moving me down the hall, like -- oh, forget it. I sound like I'm crazy."

"You and me both. I was really stupid tonight."

"You sure were."

She bristled at his comment. "Well, it's not like you've never done anything stupid in your life."

Matt grinned. "You got me there." His smile faded. "Seriously, babe. What were you thinking of -- going off with a guy like that to a place like that?"

Connie leaned back against the seat. "I don't know. I just wanted to do something fun."

"Come on. This is your Uncle Mattie, talk to me."

Connie hesitated. "All anyone thinks about is Danny."

"That's probably true."

"Mom doesn't care about me anymore. She doesn't care that Jimmy didn't ask me to the winter dance. And Dad is never around. I think he's having an affair. I hate them both. And I hate William. He's so perfect. It makes me want to puke. Danny -- Danny was the only one who ever got into trouble, and now he's -- he's ..." Connie started to sob, so hard her shoulders shook. "He's going to die, and I hate him for it. I mean, I sort of liked him, you know."

Matt smiled sadly as he enfolded her in his arms. "I know what you mean."

She lifted her head. "And I hate myself, because I don't want to visit Danny. I don't want to see him in the hospital. I don't want to think about dying."

"You don't have to."

"I do. Mom says I have to be a grown-up. I don't want to be a grown-up," she wailed, looking pathetic in clothes and makeup that were far too old for her years.

"Neither do I," Matt admitted.

She sniffed, taken by surprise. "But you're old."

Matt laughed and ruffled her hair. "Thanks, kid."

"Well, you are."

And he was, old enough to know better, certainly. The years were passing him by. The glory days were gone. And he had nothing, nothing.

As Matt looked at Connie, he suddenly realized that it wasn't his turn anymore. It was Connie's turn, and Danny's turn, and William's turn. He was a grown-up. It was about time he started acting like one.

"Change places with me, Connie. I'll drive you home."

"Maybe you could just drive off a cliff instead." She scooted past him on the seat.

"I've thought about doing just that, more than once, but I'm not really good with pain, you know?"

She smiled at him.

"And it would be a selfish solution to my problems, running away and letting someone else clean up the mess." He patted her on the leg. "Sometimes you have to take a hit, just so you can keep playing."

Matt looked out at the night sky. There were so many stars out, so much power in the heavens, so much light illuminating everything that had seemed cloudy before. One thing was clear. He didn't want to die. He wanted to live and live right. "Maybe it's time we both gave being a grown-up a chance," he said. "Tell you what. I'll try if you try."

"Are you going to tell my mom about this?"

Matt tilted his head. "Mm-mm. What would be the adult thing to do? Tell your mother? No, I think not."

Connie sighed. "Good."

Matt turned the key in the ignition. "Because you're going to tell her."

Chapter Twenty-Six

Merrilee straightened the books on her bookshelf, putting them in alphabetical order. Richard flipped through twenty-five channels on the television set and Jenny sighed as William beat her at yet another computer game. The tension in their house was the same as the tension in Danny's hospital room. There was silence and fear so palpable you could almost touch it.

"That's enough for me," Jenny said to William. "I need a cup of coffee."

"I'll get you one," Merrilee said immediately, heading toward the kitchen. "Do you want one, Richard?"

"No, thanks."

Jenny followed her sister into the kitchen and leaned against the counter as Merrilee poured her a cup of coffee. "I should never have sent Matt alone to that bar," Merrilee declared, handing Jenny the cup.

Jenny met her gaze. "He won't let us down."

"He could be sitting there getting bombed while my daughter is out there alone and -- "

"Matt said he was going to stop drinking."

"I'd like to believe him ..."

"Then do. Matt has changed. Danny's accident has made him take a new look at his life. Something we could all stand to do."

"Tell me about it." Merrilee turned off the coffee- maker and washed out the pot. As she was drying it with a dish towel she looked over at Jenny. "Richard and I are going to see a marriage counselor next week, or as soon as we can get in."

Jenny's mouth dropped open. "You're what?"

"Don't make me repeat it," Merrilee said with a frown. "It was hard enough to say the first time."

"I don't know what to say. Except that I'm glad."

"So you think my marriage needs help, too?"

Jenny hesitated. "Maybe just a tune-up."

"Or a complete makeover." Merrilee tossed the dish towel toward the counter. It fell on the floor. "Damn. I can't do anything right."

Jenny and Merrilee both reached for the towel at the same time, bumping their heads together.

"Ow," Merrilee said, rubbing her forehead.

Jenny looked at her and started to laugh. After a moment, Merrilee joined in. The laughter was a welcome release from all the tension and left them both gasping for breath.

"That felt good," Jenny said.

"I'm sorry." Merrilee looked at her with sudden seriousness.

"About what?"

"Everything."

"I don't think you're responsible for everything, Merrilee. That's been the problem all along," Jenny said gently.

"I tried to control your life. That's why you moved out of the house with Danny, instead of staying here with me. I did the same thing to Matt. I drove him away." Merrilee slid her wedding ring up and down her finger. She glanced down at the glistening diamond and a tear dripped out of her eye and down her cheek.

Jenny wanted to comfort her, but she didn't know this Merrilee, a woman who could admit failure and accept blame.

"And now I've done the same thing to Constance," Merrilee said. "You'd think I would have learned something by now."

"I think you have learned something. We all have. And, hey, it wasn't all your fault. I know I gave you a hard time when I was a teenager. I was so lost without Mom. You had Richard and Matt had football. I think that's why I fell so hard for Luke."

"And you're falling for him again, aren't you?"

Jenny looked away. "I'm trying not to."

"Oh, Jenny. Are we destined to repeat our mistakes?"

"I hope not."

A car door slammed, and Merrilee jumped. She ran to the window and peered out. "It's Matt. And Connie." She yelled for Richard, then rushed out the back door and down the driveway.

Constance and Merrilee stopped abruptly as they got closer, leaving a good three feet between them. Jenny stood back with her hand on William's shoulder. Even Richard lingered behind, instinctively knowing that this was a moment for mother and daughter.