Disaster Status (26 page)

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Erin opened the Subaru’s door and sat there for a moment, staring at the porch of Arlo’s Bait & Moor with its dozens of sea glass mobiles and wind chimes, reflecting the light and dancing in the breeze—seeing them in a way she never had before. Then she closed her eyes and listened to their sound with
“the ear of my heart.”
The way Nana listened to everything, everyone. Especially God. Erin had discovered that he had plenty to say about strength and forgiveness. He’d given her an earful today.

She shook her head. It would take practice—putting down her iPod, sitting still, and biting her tongue sometimes—but she was going to try. To really listen. She’d already made a good start on Nana’s bench and afterward. When she phoned her mother . . .
my parents.
Her heart crowded her chest at the memory of their voices. And her own tears. She’d left a text message for Scott too. Asking him to call her. If he did, she’d tell him how wrong she’d been, that she was the last person who should judge anyone about family loyalty. About anything.
And that I wish we could . . .
No, he’d be finalizing things in Portland on Monday. If he called, she’d wish him well and leave the rest in God’s hands. Meanwhile, she was here on a mission.

Annie hurried from behind the counter and grasped her hands. “Erin, child, we saw it on the news. We’ve been praying. And now that I see you, I’m hoping that Iris . . . ?”

“Came through surgery well. And the doctors say there’s every indication she’ll do fine.” Erin smiled through a sudden shimmer of tears. “More than fine, if I know my nana.”

“Amen to that.” Annie grinned, her eyes shiny as well.

Erin’s smile spread. “I’m on my way back to the hospital. And I thought I’d . . .” She glanced toward the counter.

“Starfish Latte extra cinnamon—to go?”

“Yes.” Erin felt a rush of affection for her old friend and for this special place that offered coffee, sweets, bait . . . and blessings. “But I want to buy one of your mobiles too. A gift for my grandmother. And for me. I remembered what you said about the sea glass. How it’s shaped by the sea, the way people are by tests of faith. And all those other things you told me about getting the balance right. How you have to try and make mistakes. But once you find that point of support, the . . . What’s that thing called?”

“The fulcrum?”

Erin nodded, the day’s revelations bringing a rush of goose bumps. “I get it now. God is the fulcrum.”
And my shield, my strength
. “Faith in God. You’re so brilliant!”

Annie laughed and raised her palms. “No, please. I make a decent cup of coffee, but I’m not brilliant. Just old—worn smooth like that sea glass. And happy for you. You’ve grown far beyond that little girl with the raised fist and red boots.”

“I just want to finally find the balance, you know? Faith, family, work . . .”

“And love?”

Erin sighed. “I’m not sure that’s possible right now. Maybe someday.”

“Come with me,” Annie said, tugging her across the porch to the railing that overlooked the beach.

Erin’s heart cramped.
Scott.

“Arlo says the boy’s been sitting on that cold rock for nearly an hour. I say he needs—”

“Pour me a Sea Dog black, Annie.”

Chapter Twenty-Nine

Scott’s bare feet sank into the sand as he slid from the rock; he was certain he was seeing things. It couldn’t be . . . He blinked, tilted his head, and his breath stuck in his chest. It was.
Erin.
In jeans and that sweater the color of her eyes, walking down the path from Arlo’s, carrying two containers of coffee. He reminded himself to breathe.
Please help me get this right, Lord.

“For you,” she said, stopping in front of him and holding out the coffee. “Sea Dog black.” Her gaze flickered across his wet-suit vest. “Annie was afraid you were getting cold out here.”

“Thanks.” He took the container, feeling the familiar swirl of warmth she always brought with her . . . even empty-handed. Cold wasn’t possible
.
“Judy told me that your grandmother had to have surgery. I saw you in the chapel. I wanted to talk with you, but I had to take Cody to my folks’ house.”

“It’s all right. She’s going to be fine. I’m on my way back. She’ll be waking up soon, but I saw you down here and . . .” Erin hesitated. “I sent you a text a little while ago.”

“I had my phone muted. What did you want?”

“To find out how Cody is doing, first of all.”

“He’s okay. Considering. But . . .” Scott dragged his fingers through his salt-stiffened hair. “I was going to call you. Those things you said the other night, when I didn’t make it back in time for his X-ray—”

“Wait,” she insisted. “That’s the other reason I wanted you to call me. I shouldn’t have said those things.”

He wanted to explain that it was the best thing that could have happened, but she shook her head as soon as he opened his mouth.

“Please, Scott, I need to say this. Can we go sit somewhere for a few minutes? Do you have time?”

“Sure.”

She followed him back to the rock and he grabbed his swim bag, then quickly checked his messages before spreading his beach towel on the sand near the cliff wall. Except for a pair of elderly women walking near the water’s edge, the beach was deserted. They sat together and sipped their coffee, and Erin didn’t say anything for a while, closing her eyes as if she were listening to the waves beyond. She seemed different somehow.

She turned to him. “It’s been quite a day. And it took my grandmother being nearly killed to make me finally face some big truths. About myself. It wasn’t pretty.”

Scott had no idea what to say or where she was going. But he could see that it was important to her. He listened.

“I had no business telling you how to deal with your family. Not after how I’ve behaved with mine. I jumped all over you for ‘abandoning’ Cody because you were a couple of hours late for an MRI. One single MRI. While Wonder Woman—” she tapped her chest and grimaced—“dumps my father’s name, calls Mom weak because she stuck by the man she loves, and then ‘hijacks’ my grandmother to the beach. My sister didn’t mince words, and she was right. I brought Nana here because I wanted to run away. The way I always did when things got tough. I convinced myself I was doing it to protect her and ended up putting her right in harm’s way.”

“No.” He grasped her hand. “Don’t do this to yourself.”

“I’m just being honest. Finally. The truth is, I’ve been pushy and unforgiving and horribly selfish. I understand now, and I’m working on it. I just wanted you to know that I’m sorry. Really sorry.” She looked into his eyes. “I wouldn’t blame you if you didn’t want anything to do with me ever again. I had no right to force my opinions on you about your family, the job in Portland, or . . . about my faith.”

“But you were right,” Scott said.

“I was right?”

He chuckled at the confusion on her face. He knew the feeling. “You’re
wrong
that I don’t want to see you again. Dead wrong. I want that more than anything I’ve wanted in a long time. What I meant was that you were
right
about those other things. Especially about God. And praying.” He’d begun to tremble inside.

“Praying?”

It was all he could do not to stop talking and kiss her. But he wanted her to know this. He needed her to. “Yes.” He glanced toward the rock, and the sensation came over him again. That warm eddy in a cold ocean. “That’s what I was doing out there—talking to God. Finally connecting with him again. It’s hard to explain. It was more like . . . listening.”

She gasped softly, and then her sweet smile melted his heart. “I understand,” she whispered. “I do.”

He released the breath he’d been holding. “I was hoping you’d say that. I want to keep listening to God, change things in my life. I could use your help.” He watched her eyes. “What do you think?”

“I think you should count on me. I’ll be here. Like you said, Portland isn’t so faraway. We can talk when you get back.”

“I’m not going.”

“You mean you changed the date of your meeting because of Cody?”

“No,” he said, his resolve as firm as the rock he’d sat on for the past hour. “I’m not taking the job. I won’t be moving.”

“You . . .” Her mouth curved into an incredulous smile.

He’d never wanted to kiss her more. He lifted her hand to his lips, then smiled back. “Cody needs me. I need him. It’s time I stepped up. And—” he brushed a strand of Erin’s hair away from her face—“I don’t want to be away from you. I’ve never met anyone like you, Erin. I . . .” He searched her eyes, hoping he was making sense.

“I’m listening.”

“I’m saying that I care for you. That I want to get to know you better. And I’m hoping there’s a chance for us.” He saw her answer in her eyes before she said a word, and his heart filled his chest.

“Yes,” she said, reaching up to rest her palm against his face. “More than a chance.”

He rose to his knees in the sand and drew her to him, wrapping his arms around her and closing his eyes. Feeling her warmth, smelling her hair, suddenly dizzy from everything that had happened, never wanting to let her go, but . . .

He whispered against her ear, “Ah, I hate it that there’s no time. You have to get to the hospital. And I need to see Cody.” His heart pinched, remembering the words in the journal. His nephew’s pain and loneliness. He knew too well how that felt.

Erin drew back, eyes shiny with tears but still smiling. “I do have to go. Leigh’s there, but I want to be with my grandmother when she wakes. She’ll need me, have questions . . .” She groaned softly. “I don’t even know what happened to Elmer Fudd. He’s her—”

“Goldfish. About nine inches, pretty long in the tooth.” Scott laughed at the surprise on her face. “Don’t worry. He’s fine. Jonah found him under Cody’s bed. Granddad’s been working miracles.” He laced his hands together low on her back and sighed. “It’s been one big day for miracles.”

“It has. And one of them is that my family’s on their way to the hospital. My dad too.”

He raised his brows.

“I told you I was working on things. And with my family here—and if Nana’s doing well—I can probably sneak away for a while after dinner tonight. If you can, then maybe we—”

“I can,” he said quickly. “Where should we go? The Giant Dipper?”

She looked at him like he was crazy.

He laughed. “Right. It feels like we’ve been on a roller coaster for days. I’ll think of something. In fact—” he pulled her closer—“I just did.”

She narrowed her eyes. “Karaoke?”

“Not karaoke. And no roller coasters.”

“So then . . . what are you thinking of?”

“Kissing you.”

“Good idea, Captain.”

He cradled her face in his hands and kissed her gently at first, then slid his arms snugly around her, drawing her closer. Erin twined her arms around his neck as their kiss deepened, her fingers at the nape of his neck. She was sweet, warmly responsive, and—

As she leaned away, he opened his eyes.

She started to laugh. “Do you hear that?”

He shook his head, idly wondering how corny it would sound if he said he couldn’t hear anything over the pounding of his heart. “No. What?”

She pointed and waved up toward the top of the sea cliff. “It’s Arlo and Annie.” Her laugh tinkled like wind chimes. “They’re clapping.”

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Iris shifted in the hospital bed and ran her fingers over the cover of her Bible, the worn leather as familiar as her family’s faces.
My family. Here. Together
. Warmth filled her at the image of them, her daughter; oldest granddaughter, Debra, with her husband; their son, Peter; and baby Hannah, giggling and bright-eyed; and her son-in-law, Frank Calloway. Newly returned to the fold. She remembered the look in his eyes as he gazed at his family . . . including his younger daughter, Erin. A man grateful for his blessings and for God’s saving grace.

It would take time. They were all out having dinner together. It was a start. Erin was moving with baby steps, still so wary, but the hope was there. For forgiveness and healing. Oh . . . at long last. So much good news, including what she’d heard from the nurses only a few minutes ago—that the final testing of the water system had been completed. And Pacific Point was safe.

She moved her head and felt the huge pressure bandage brush against the pillow. And the dull throb of the headache. Healing. She’d have some of that herself. She glanced toward a sound in the distance, different from the beeps, buzzes, and whirs she’d come to recognize in the ICU. She focused her nonswollen eye in the direction of the sound . . . a doggy yodel. Jonah and Hugh
.
A tear slid down her cheek.

“Quite a shiner you have there,” he said, stepping close. “I think Mr. Fudd fared better.”

Iris smiled, and more tears came. “Oh, dear, I’m sorry about these waterworks. They tell me it’s common to cry at the drop of a hat after they cut a hole in your head.” She sighed. “I’m so grateful to you for helping Elmer. Erin said he was under Cody’s bed. That his bowl was broken by . . . I keep having these images of tall angels playing baseball. I can’t remember much of what happened. It’s sort of crazy.”

Hugh rested his hand over hers. “I’d call it a blessing. We’ve had more than a few today.”

“Cody. How’s my Cody?”

“That’s one of those blessings. I’ll tell the whole story another time, but Cody’s feeling better than he has in a long time. He’s going to Rohnert Park tomorrow for his hyperbaric treatment, and he’s offered to take Elmer along with him. He thinks your fish needs watching, but I think my great-grandson needs to feel useful.”

“I know the feeling.” Iris swallowed softly, aware of the comfort from having this kind man’s hand over her own. “Is Scott driving Cody to Rohnert Park?”

“Yes. He’s taking a leave from the fire department for the week that Cody’s there. Although—” Hugh chuckled—“we’ll be relieving him now and then. He’s going to want to see Erin. I think our grandchildren are smitten, Mrs. Quinn.”

“I believe you’re right.” She spread her palm across the cover of her Bible. And left the other hand exactly where it was.
Thank you, Father.

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Leigh burrowed her face against Frisco’s satin-soft neck, inhaling the scent of him. Sweat after their long gallop, pine shavings from his stall, warm leather . . . blissful, musky horse. She leaned back against the tie post and sighed. It had been an endless and draining day, full of events she would never have expected. Being in the quiet solitude of the stable was exactly what the doctor ordered. She was glad she’d stayed with Iris for Erin but relieved to leave. She stooped down, picked a curry brush from her grooming box, and began rubbing in slow circles over Frisco’s damp back. His skin quivered.

After Erin returned, she’d stayed in the ICU long enough to watch their tearful and loving reunion when Iris awakened more fully and was able to converse. She’d surmised, from her friend’s radiant smile and a few snippets of conversation, that the day had been filled with more than triumph over tragedy. It appeared that Captain Scott McKenna had a lot to do with it. Leigh was glad for her.

She was glad, too, that she’d decided to stop by the ER after leaving the ICU. She’d almost forgotten she’d ordered Sarge Gunther’s VA records. How little she’d known about the solemn man who’d worked alongside them. Limping under his heavy burdens. He’d led a lonely and troubled life, crippled by far more than a land mine. The VA included his recently updated contact information. She’d hesitated over her decision. According to the notes, he hadn’t seen his only son in nearly a decade. She told herself to stay out of it. That his business was private. Then reminded herself that Sergeant Richard Gunther’s photo had made the Pacific Point noon news and then gone national.

Twenty-two-year-old Ricky Gunther had seen it and was grateful she called; he’d been trying to contact his father for several years. He’d returned from Iraq last fall and understood now how tough things got. How wounded a man could be. He’d fly out of St. Louis on the first flight he could catch. She sincerely hoped the trip would be good for both of them.

Leigh set the curry brush down and stepped to the front of the cross ties. She swept Frisco’s dark forelock away from his eyes, then took a deep breath and let it out slowly. “We’re going back to San Francisco.”