Home To You (24 page)

“No, sir.”

“Kendall’s devastated. I’ll do what I can to help you out, but I have to go around Grace to do it, and that’s like playing Russian roulette.”

Jax wasn’t happy about it. “I understand. Thanks.”

Teddy looked at Jaime. “Go on out and tell Grace we’ll join you in a few minutes.”

Jaime shot him a you’re-on-your-own look of relief and left the room, closing the door behind him.

“Tell me what the hell is going on with you, son. I know it’s more than your headaches.”

Jax sat on the chair behind him and rubbed his temples before looking back at Teddy. “This stays just between us? I don’t want Grace and Rocki worrying about it until I know more. If that’s a problem, tell me now.”

Teddy paled. “You have my word.”

If Jax thought it was difficult telling Jaime and Kendall, it was nothing compared to having to tell Teddy. Teddy didn’t interrupt, didn’t blink; he just turned and sat down as the ramifications sank in. After a few minutes of silence, he cleared his throat. “You have to get out of here. If you stick around much longer, Grace is going to figure it out.”

“I know. That’s why I didn’t want to come down here in the first place.”

Teddy seemed to center himself, although he still looked pale, and his eyes looked shiny, but he shook it off. “Okay, this is what we’ll do. There’s no way you’re getting out of here before you eat dinner, so we’ll just steer the conversation in safe directions. Then you go back to the cabin with Jaime to pack. I’ll get you on the first flight out of Logan in the morning and make sure there’s a car waiting for you at the airport to take you home. Be ready to head out by oh-four-hundred hours.”

Jax cleared his throat. “Yeah, um, I can’t tell time yet. But I’ll have Jaime program it into my phone.” Jax stood and took a deep breath.

Teddy came around the desk, grabbed him in a crushing hug, and held on. “You’re going to be all right, son. I promise.”

The last time Jax had heard those words was right before his uncles shipped him off to boarding school. Teddy had meant well, but he’d been wrong then, and he was wrong now. Jax couldn’t see anything being all right ever again. So he pulled away from the closest person to a father he had. “Teddy, Kendall deserves to be loved by someone with all his faculties. I know that. And I tried to stay away from her. I really did. I might not deserve her, but I love her. I love her more than my own life. She
needs to know I never lied to her about anything but my name. Not once.”

“I’ll tell her.”

*

Loud, incessant banging woke Kendall. The sound seemed to hit every cold, hard surface in the apartment and ricocheted. It grew in volume and pulsed through her aching head until she wondered if her ears were bleeding. Whatever this was made Jack’s hammering sound tame. “Oh, God. How much did I have to drink?”

Erin groaned from the other side of the sectional. “If you feel anything like I do, the answer to that question is, Way too much. Is that a gong?”

“No, I think it’s someone knocking.” Kendall rolled off the couch, and her stomach swirled like a Tilt-A-Whirl. She closed her eyes and swallowed back bile. “Coming.” In her head it sounded like a scream, but it was probably closer to a whisper. She looked through the peephole, saw her father, and pushed back the weight of disappointment that crushed what was left of her heart. She hadn’t even realized she’d been hoping Jack would come.

She opened the door to the big, strong bear of a man who had seemingly aged ten years in twenty-four hours. “Daddy?” He had dark circles under his eyes, and his shirt looked as if he’d slept in it. He was always the starched-and-pressed kind of man, yet today he looked as if he’d been thrown from a speeding car. “Daddy, what’s wrong? Is it Jack? What happened?”

“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.”