Lucky 13 (20 page)

After six weeks of searching for anyone that might be him, I finally come across a lead. There’s a slim chance that it’s him, but I have to check it out. After talking to my father, he decides to accompany me on my trip. We fly out of Raleigh on Friday night, straight to Madison, Wisconsin. The little town is only an hour north of the city, so we stay the night in Madison and plan to drive up in the morning.

“What’s your plan when we get there?” my father asks as he merges onto the highway.

“I have a picture of me and Grant. I plan on asking around town, showing people the picture. If anyone recognizes him, then I know we’re in the right spot.”

“I thought you said that the name in the file was Joshua.”

“It was. His name was Joshua when I first met him,” I explain.

“What if it’s not him?”

I know there’s a chance that I’m wrong, but it’s the first real lead I’ve had all summer. If I didn’t at least check, I would regret it for the rest of my life. It probably isn’t him, but I need to know for sure.

“Then I move on and keep looking.” Nodding his head, I can see the concern on my father’s face as he stares at the road ahead. “What?”

“Nothing,” he replies quickly, trying to brush me off.

“I can see it on your face. Say whatever it is you’re thinking. Please.”

“I’m just worried about you. You’ve dedicated so much time looking for him and I don’t want you to be disappointed. If it’s not him, I know it’s going to hurt, and I don’t want to see you hurting.”

I let his words sink in. Our relationship has grown so much in the last nine months. Times like this make me pray that it stays this way. For years, it felt like my father didn’t care about me. I was treated like a responsibility and felt like I was a burden. Not anymore.

“Thank you for coming with me,” I say, genuinely meaning it.

“I’m here, Madison. Whatever you need, I’m here.”

I pull the picture of Grant from my purse, tracing the outline of his face with the tip of my finger. I miss him. It took me a while, but I now know how he felt for five years, waiting to see me again. Waiting on me to come back. The painful part is that when I did, I had no clue who he was. He needed me to fall in love with him all over again. Lucky for the both of us, I did. I fell head over heels in love with the man he had become as I began to remember the boy he used to be.

Thinking about Grant and the missing years brings back memories of one of our last conversations. He told me that he would tell me more about that summer and our time together. The one thing he said that he wouldn’t tell me was about the accident. He told me to ask my father. I tried to bring myself to do it after we first reconnected, but I was afraid to ruin the relationship we were just beginning to build. I think it’s time now.

“Can I ask you something?”

“Anything.”

“Did I ever tell you that I’ve been remembering things from before the accident?” I don’t need to tell him which accident. His only response it nonverbal. He grips the steering wheel a little tighter and I see his back stiffen. “Grant filled in some of the holes for me. There’s still a small window of time that I don’t remember, though. I have flashbacks of the beach with Grandma, but then there’s the accident. I don’t remember any of it. Not where it happened, when or how. I asked Grant, but he wouldn’t tell me. He told me that I needed to ask you ...”

I let my voice trail off and wait patiently for my father to reply. Nothing. I wait a few more minutes before he finally clears his throat. Closing my eyes, I fear that what he’s about to tell me might be what ends up finally causing me to break.

“It was raining so you left the beach early. Your grandma slipped on the pavement when you stopped for gas and twisted her ankle. She called me to tell me that she slipped and you were going to stay at the beach after all. I told her to get back in the car and make sure you got home on time so we didn’t miss our plane.

“She said that the car started to skid and she lost control. When she tried to brake, her ankle rolled and slipped off the pedal. She ran a stop sign and the driver of the truck hit the car going close to fifty miles an hour. The impact pushed the car into a telephone pole, crushing you both in the car. Grandma broke her leg and you hit your head on the window from the impact.”

He stops, abruptly ending our conversation, and turns on the radio. I let it slide, seeing the emotional toll the story has taken on him. Nothing seems familiar to me. I thought hearing what happened would bring back memories of the accident, but nothing was triggered.

Something’s missing. There has to be something he’s not telling me. I know I was injured and in the hospital for a few weeks afterward. I know that Grandma’s leg was never the same. It sounds like it was a mistake, a genuine accident. Grandma didn’t intend to run the stop sign. The other driver didn’t intend to hit us. My father never would have told her to drive if he had known that it would happen. I need to know what I’m missing.

“Can I ask one more question?” I mumble, turning the volume of the radio down so he can hear me.

“I can’t tell you more, Madison. It’s too hard.”

“Just one more question. Then, I’ll never ask about it again.” My father lets out a breath and nods his head. “It sounds like it was an accident. Why hasn’t anyone told me about it before?”

“Madison. I can’t.”

“I need to know. I deserve to know and you’re the only person who can tell me. Grandma’s gone. Grant’s gone. You’re the only one who can tell me, so please. Please, Dad.” I beg him to tell me what no one else has, will or can.

His voice is barely above a whisper but I hear the two words he utters clear as day. “You died.”

Chapter 19

I died.

How is that possible? I’m here. I’m alive and breathing right now.

“What?”

“You were legally dead. I don’t remember for how long. The ambulance got there quick and revived you, but you were gone. When you didn’t wake up …”

“Oh God,” I whisper. I can’t imagine what he went through. He had just lost my mother then he lost me too.

“I’m so sorry, Madison. Someone should have told you long before today, but I never had the heart. I did my best to protect you after that, but the memories of that day, that one five second conversation with the doctor, still haunts me when I sleep. I lost your mother and then I lost you. If you hadn’t woken up, I don’t know how I would have gone on. You two were my life.” My father’s voice breaks and I take notice. I’ve never heard him sound anything less than strong and steady, sure of each word he speaks. Right now, he sounds weak.

“I did wake up, Dad. I’m here,” I say, trying to reassure him he hasn’t lost me. I understand he knows I’m physically alive, but I hope he also understands I’m also emotionally fine.

“I know, and I thank God for that every day. I’m so sorry, Madison. I did the best I could raising you on my own, but I think I messed up. I kept you too close. I sheltered you too much. I didn’t want to lose you, so I was afraid to let you spread your wings at all. You’re all I have.”

I put my hand over his as the first tear falls. I look straight ahead, my vision beginning to blur from holding back. Wiping away the moisture, I find my voice and tell my father that I forgive him. No other words are spoken as we pull into town and park. We have a huge task ahead of us and I need to change my focus. I take one last look at Grant’s handsome face before putting the picture back in my purse and getting out of the car.

Game face on.

We walk from one end of town to the other, stopping at every shop and diner that’s open. Everyone is helpful, but no one recognizes Grant. I try to keep my spirits up as we turn tail and head back to Madison. Our plane leaves in the morning. I was hoping I wouldn’t be on it. I was hoping I wouldn’t have to go back and spend the rest of the summer sorting through files. I wanted this to be him, but I think, deep down, I knew it wouldn’t be, the chances were slim. I tried to convince myself I was wasting time even going on the trip to avoid disappointment.

***

Even though we didn’t find him, it was an informative trip to say the least. I let the facts of the accident sink in as we travel back home. It’s all I can think about the rest of the weekend. I’m thankful for Monday morning when I head back into the office and have a pile of work to catch up on. I stop thinking about the fact I was dead and begin focusing on finding Grant again.

The cabinets are waiting for me when I finally get to them at the end of the day on Monday. I’ve made if from Z through K. I’ll be starting J tonight and working my way to A. I’m farther behind than I thought I would be. I only have two weeks before I leave, and since I was gone over the weekend, I have some major catching up to do. With a fresh cup of coffee in my hand, I settle in for a few hours of reading.

I spend most of Tuesday and all of Wednesday in the records room, my work load light for a change. About the time I’m ready to call it a day on Wednesday, I open the last file behind tab G and scream. The folder falls to the floor. I lean over to pick it up and read it over again.

G. Lucy and Grant. Winter Park, Colorado.

There is no doubt in my mind this isn’t them. It has to be.

We wouldn’t be here if it wasn’t for you. You’re grandma was going to send us to Colorado.

Grant’s voice echoes in my ears, words he spoke after thanking me. I didn’t even remember until now that they were supposed to go to Colorado, and they would have if I hadn’t begged Grandma to let them stay. All this time I should have known where to find him. He left me clues, just in case they had to leave again. I wonder what else he told me that I’ve forgotten that might help me.

I take a picture of the information and clean up the room before heading home. I want to celebrate, but it doesn’t feel right without Grant here and I can’t tell anyone I’ve found him. If I do, they’ll want to know how. If I tell them how, then they’ll know he’s part of the program. That could compromise the integrity of the Foundation and everything it stands for.

Nope. I’m just going to go home, eat ice cream, and start packing. I leave for school next Friday, so it’s time. Once I get there, I’ll be headed to Winter Park to visit a long lost friend.

***

Libby hugs me tight, tears streaming down her face as I pat her on the back in an attempt to calm her down. I’ve already promised to call her every day and we plan to video chat on the weekends. She’s headed to Raleigh tomorrow for school. I’m glad I won’t be here to see her off. I can only imagine how emotional she’s going to be saying goodbye to her parents and to Chester. He’s headed to California.

The day Libby found out he got into UCLA, and was planning on going, was not a very good day for anyone. Chester got the brunt of her rage, but I was a close second. She was yelling and screaming. She threw her phone against the wall and shattered it before asking if she could borrow mine to call Chester back. I gave it to her only after she threatened my life. Thankfully, she didn’t throw my phone after she hung up on him again.

We’re all venturing out on our own. It’s a little sad. This is the first place that’s felt like home to me. I’ve made friends here that will last me a lifetime. I made memories that will last even longer, and I now remember parts of my life that had been hidden in the shadows for years. I’ll never forget the last year. Even with all the ups and down, I wouldn’t trade it for anything. In the end, everything is going to be okay. I can feel it.

“I have to go, Libby. I’m going to miss my plane if I don’t get on the road.” I try to push her away, but she holds on tight.

“Libby. Let her go,” Chester scolds. I don’t miss the nasty look she shoots him as she pulls back.

“Promise me that you’ll call me as soon as you get there.”

“I promise. Now, promise me that you’ll be nice to your roommate.”

Libby sticks out her bottom lip and shakes her head. When Libby contacted her new roommate to introduce herself, she got blown off in a big way. The girl basically hung up on her and told her she would see her at school. Libby got pissed at me for that. She said it was my fault since I wasn’t going to the same school as her. It’s my fault she’s stuck with a shitty roommate.

“If she turns out to be a complete bitch, I’m transferring schools. Make sure there’s room in your dorm for me.” Libby has been threatening me all summer that she’s going to come live with me if her roommate sucks. I’m keeping my fingers crossed they’re able to get along.

“Noted.” I turn my attention to Chester, unsure of how to say goodbye to him. I don’t feel close to him by any means, but we’ve spent a lot of time together over the last year. He was Grant’s best friend. I should acknowledge that in some way. “Take care of her for me, Chester.”

“I will.” He opens his arms and I walk into them, allowing him to hug me. “Take care of Grant for me,” he whispers. I suck in a breath at the mention of his name and slowly let it out so Libby doesn’t notice. She’s watching us suspiciously right now. I’m not sure how he knows that I found him. He’s always been the silent type, observing but never commenting on what’s going on. He must be more intuitive than I’ve given him credit for.

Ten minutes later, after two more breath-stealing hugs, I’m finally able to close the car door and my dad hits the gas. I saw him laughing at Libby behind her back the entire time she was saying goodbye to me.

Saying goodbye to my father is bittersweet. He’s retiring from the Marine Corps this winter and is planning on retiring in New Bern. To stay busy, he’s thinking about working part time at the Foundation. We’re starting a surveillance team and I’ve asked him to conduct all the training for new employees. I want us to be able to keep people safer so situations doesn’t arise in the future like what happened with Grant.

By the time I come home next summer, it should be fully operational. My father seems excited to be a part of the Foundation, and I couldn’t be happier to have him helping. That also means that he’s staying in town and taking care of the house for me.

“Well, Madison. This is it. Once you pass through those gates, you’re going to be off to college, on your own.” His attempt at enthusiasm is appreciated, but I can still hear his apprehension about me leaving.

“I know. It’s kind of scary.”

“Even though you’ve been on your own for a while now, I want you to know that I’m only a phone call away if you need anything.”

He’s told me this multiple times over the last few weeks. Once I told him that I found Grant, I think he got jealous. Grant’s going to be closer to me in distance than my father. He’ll be there for me if I need him. I think my father’s afraid that things will go back to the way they were, before Grant left. I’ve promised myself I won’t let them. I like the relationship we have now. We’re stronger than we have been in years, and in a way, we have Grant to thank for that.

“Love you, Dad,” I say as I hug him tightly.

“Love you too, Bug. Call me when you land.” Kissing me on the forehead, my father pulls back and smiles at me.

Bug. He hasn’t called me that in years. Closing my eyes, I see myself as a little girl. I’m running through the yard. My mother is chasing behind me. She looks happy. I look happy. My father is sitting in a chair on the patio laughing.

She’s going to get you, Bug. You better run faster.

Then it hits me like a ton of bricks. The accident. The hospital. I’m remembering everything and I’m overwhelmed. Now is not the time. I can’t handle this right now.

“Everything okay?” Looking up at my father, I can see that I’m starting to worry him.

Shaking my head, I reply, “Yeah. Just tired.”

“Get some rest on the plane, okay? Love you.”

I wave at my father as soon as I’m safely through security and on my way to my gate. My chest is tight, my heart beating rapidly. I take a few deep breaths and let them out slowly. It doesn’t help, so I rush to my gate and take a seat, placing my head between my knees, closing my eyes.

I see the truck. It’s coming at us fast. I hear Grandma scream, but I don’t look at her. I’m staring at the truck, eyes wide with fear, knowing what’s about to happen. It slams into our car and I feel it in my chest. My head hits the window and everything fades to black, the world going silent around me.

“Now boarding, Southwest flight 499, nonstop service to Denver, Colorado. We would like to invite our first class passengers to begin boarding now at gate A6. Thank you for choosing Southwest Airlines.”

Sitting up, I dig my boarding pass out of my purse and walk to the gate. The friendly woman behind the podium makes a second announcement before scanning my ticket and waving me through. Walking down the tunnel, I try and focus my attention on Grant, college, and my future. I shake away all memories of the accident, but my chest continues to ache, no matter how much I attempt to ignore the pain of my past.

As soon as we’re in the air, I lean my seat back and close my eyes. Grant’s hazel eyes and sexy grin are all I see as I drift off into slumber.

“Please, Bug. I need you to wake up. I need you here with me. Open your eyes.” My father pleads with me as he holds my lifeless hand in his.

“She’s going to wake up, Michael.”

Whipping his head in my grandma’s direction, my father glares at her, anger radiating from him in waves. “You don’t know that, Mother. The doctors say it could be months or even years, and that’s if she wakes up.”

Wise to not reply, my grandma sinks down into her chair. Her leg is propped up on a stool in front of her, a cast spanning the length from her thigh to her ankle. She winces in pain as she attempts to get comfortable.

I look over to where I’m lying, lifeless. There’s a tube down my throat breathing for me. I’m hooked up to machines that beep annoyingly. One is monitoring my heart beat, another my pulse. The last one looks as if it’s monitoring my brain activity. Even hooked up to everything, I look like I’m sleeping peacefully.

A man in a white coat enters the room, announcing his arrival. “We have some of the test results back. I’m sorry to say that there’s been no change in her condition. We are going to continue to monitor her as we have been and run more tests in a few days. I’m hoping that we’ll see some signs of improvement then.”

“Hoping? You’re hoping for signs of improvement!” His answer, not good enough for my father, causes him to lash out.

“Mr. Thompson, I know that I don’t need to remind you how seriously Madison was injured. Her brain was starved of oxygen for at least five minutes. If she does wake up, there could be severe trauma that we don’t know about yet. She may never be the same as she was before the accident. We are going to do everything we can for her, I promise. What I need for you to do is keep talking to her and try your best to stay positive. Getting agitated and upset won’t help her.” The doctor keeps his voice calm, but he also takes a step back as he speaks.