My Everything (24 page)

She’d come back.
She’d come back to him.

Ben couldn’t believe how nightmarish the past two weeks had been. On the helicopter flight Grace had coded twice. She’d undergone emergency thoracic surgery and been intubated and placed on a ventilator.

She’d had chest tubes inserted, been given transfusions, and developed pneumonia.

God, he’d nearly lost her a dozen times.

Grace’s father, Harlan Rafael stayed with him. Ben had asked the nurses to bring a cot in for Harlan, while he’d slept in a chair next to the bed.

Every morning his mother somehow managed to cajole Harlan into accompanying her back to the hotel for a shower, a shave and a decent breakfast, but Ben was terrified to leave. Grace might slip away in his absence. So he took his showers there, his family brought in food, and Tom brought clean clothes.

Angel stayed too. She realized Grace’s action had saved her life, and in all likelihood, saved Ben’s as well. If it hadn’t been for the distraction Angel and Grace caused, Roger would probably have gotten off a shot at Ben. Ben knew Angel blamed herself. He understood that kind of guilt better than anyone, so he convinced the doctor to let Angel spend as much time with Grace as possible.

That twitch of a finger changed everything. At first Ben thought it was nothing more than a mirage, a symptom of his fatigue. Then he saw it again. Grace moved her finger. She not only moved it, she outright wiggled it. If they hadn’t been in the ICU, Ben would have shouted. He glanced over at her father. Tears streamed down the older man’s face. Ben rose from the chair and sat Harlan in it.

“Stay with your daughter,” he said. “I’m going to get the doctor.”

By the next
morning, Grace was breathing without help. Both her surgeon and the pulmonologist explained she wasn’t entirely out of the woods but she’d come a hell of a long way. The surgeon suggested they keep her lightly sedated for another few hours and let her wake up slowly.

At the door, the doctor turned to Ben. “Mr. McCall, I’d like to speak with you outside.”

Ben followed him from the room, his stomach churning. He was certain the doctor was going to lay the caveat on him, the big “but” and tell him there was a trade-off. Grace would heal from the gunshot wound, but she had brain damage or she’d need oxygen for the rest of her life or she’d be a cardiac cripple. By the time they’d gone ten feet from the room, Ben was already trying to figure out how to break the news to Grace’s father.

“I noticed something unusual in Mrs. Adam’s blood work yesterday.”

Ben’s heart skipped a beat. This was bad.

“She’s pregnant. Fortunately, it’s very early in the pregnancy so I don’t think we’ve done anything to hurt the babies.”

Ben stared at the man. His mouth opened and he tried to speak, but nothing came out.

The doctor continued, “As I said, it’s very early, but judging by the levels of chorionic gonadotropin in her blood, it’s possible we may be looking at twins.”

Ben swallowed hard.
Twins?
He suddenly wanted to jump up and down, scream and shout, take the doctor in his arms and plant a big wet one on him.

Instead he asked, “Can she handle this? I mean, will she be able to carry the babies? Is she well enough to continue the pregnancy?”

The doctor smiled. “I’m not an obstetrician, but I suspect she’ll be fine. She’s young, and considering the excellent physical shape she’s in, I expect her to make a full recovery. It’s just good for us to know so we don’t use any medications that might hurt the babies.”

“Thank you, doctor.” Ben shook his hand. He nearly danced his way back to the room, grinning like a fool. He debated whether or not to tell anyone. He decided that no matter how idiotic he looked to his family, the first person he should tell would be Grace. After that, he’d shout the news to the entire world.

Ben deferred to
Grace’s father, giving him time alone with Grace. Harlan Rafael had things to say, and Ben figured now was the time to say them. He’d nearly lost his only daughter. He deserved to be the one at her side when she woke up from the sedation.

Ben paced in the waiting room. His sole companion, Tom, grinned from ear to ear.

“Knock it off,” Ben said, catching the look of amusement in Tom’s eyes.

“Why don’t you go get in the water? That will cool you off.”

Ben stopped in his tracks and snorted with laughter. “You remember?”

“Shit yeah. What did you think? I didn’t notice her? I noticed her all right. She just wasn’t for me. She was for you.”

“Yeah, she was for me, wasn’t she?” Ben grinned at his friend. “I didn’t quite get it back then.”

“Oh, I think you did,” said Tom. “You got it. It just wasn’t the right time. Look, Mallory and I were together all through high school, then we split up during college and the military and I sowed my wild oats so to speak. She did too. If we’d gotten married right out of high school I don’t think it would have worked out for us. We both needed to grow up and figure out what it was we really wanted. That turned out to be each other. It’s the same with you and Grace.”

“But I married Julie. I thought she was the one I really wanted.”

“And she was, at the time. But Julie’s not here anymore. Tragic as it is, she’s not here. And neither is Josh Adams. So maybe Grace has been your destiny all along and you are hers. Does that make sense or am I getting too philosophical?”

“A bit, but I get your drift,” Ben said.

“Look, Ben, I don’t normally like to get into this shit because the truth is I’m a meat and potatoes kind of guy, but sometimes things happen. One small action sets off a series of other actions and reactions, sometimes with unexpected results. It’s like a game of chess. You know that as well as I do, maybe better. It’s always that one thing we overlooked or forgot to check or failed to see. Or maybe even that one little thing we did. We got up on the right side of the bed instead of the left side. We put on loafers instead of running shoes. Or maybe it’s the one thing right before our eyes, like Grace Adams sitting on the floor in front of the door to your hotel room. This is pure speculation of course, but I’m guessing, just guessing now, that she was sitting there half naked‍—‍” Tom grinned, “‍—‍for a reason. As I see it, you and Angel are alive because of her. Roger Smithson is in custody because of her and from what I’ve been told he’ll be a guest in the psych ward of the California Medical Facility for the rest of his life. I guess what I’m trying to say in a very long-winded sort of way is that you two are meant for each other. It may have happened pretty quickly, but everybody knows it’s true.”

“What if she doesn’t know it?”

“Is that why you’re sweating? Shit, she knew it the minute she laid eyes on you. She’s a woman. They know this stuff.”

Ben began to laugh. He heard Grace’s voice in his head, singing her off-key rendition of Barry White. Tom was right. She knew. She’d known all along.

Grace pried her
eyes open. Her brain felt fuzzy, as if she’d really tied one on the night before, but she didn’t remember drinking. Focusing on the person sitting beside her was like pulling teeth. He spoke to her, repeated her name. He called her Gracia.

Only her father called her Gracia.

She could have sworn she’d had a dream about her dad just the other day. Didn’t she dream about hushed voices?

Oh. My. God.

Grace remembered. It all came flooding back. Ben, their night together, Roger, Angel and Bakersfield, everything, except one… What the hell happened to her in Bakersfield?

She heard her father’s voice again. He said, “You were shot, honey. You’re in Intensive Care, but you’re going to be okay. Everything is going to be all right.”

“Dad?” Her voice sounded weird and creaky, as if it hadn’t been used in a long time. Her throat hurt. She reached up and felt her neck, wondering if the doctors had performed a tracheotomy, but she touched only skin.

“They put you on the ventilator for a while,” he said. “The doctor pulled the tube early this morning.”

Grace blinked several times to clear her vision, and she focused on her father. He looked different somehow, stronger than the last time she’d seen him. Present was actually the word that came to mind. He seemed more present.

“How did you get here?”

“Ben sent a private jet for me.”

“How long have I been here?”

“Fourteen days.”

“Jesus. Did you say I was shot?”

“Yes, in the back. The doctor said you suffered a pneumothorax, and he said the bullet nicked an artery. You almost died, Gracia. I guess… I guess you did die, for a few moments.” His voice broke.

Grace leaned toward him, pulling tubes along with her. Her body felt stiff and sore and moving was tough, but her father needed to touch her, and she needed him to.

“I’m sorry, honey. I’m so sorry.” Her father leaned over the bed and wrapped his arms around her. Grace felt his tears on her cheeks. Her heart broke. Nobody wanted to be the reason her dad cried. Not her big, strong, tough-as-nails, tough-skinned Dad who hadn’t even cried at his own wife’s funeral.

“Don’t cry, Dad,” she begged. “Please don’t cry. You have nothing to be sorry about.”

“Yes.” He sobbed. “Yes, I do. I do. I’ve never been a patient man. I’ve never been easy on you. I pushed and pushed and tried to make you be somebody.”

“I am somebody, Dad.”

“But I tried to make you be somebody you weren’t. It was always my way or the highway. What kind of father does that to his only child?”

Grace reached up and placed a hand on each side of his face. Tears streamed down her own cheeks. “Dad…” Grace was wracked by a coughing spasm. A nurse appeared and helped her to sit up.

When Grace was able to speak again, she said, “You’ve been a good dad. You’re not perfect, but neither am I. I turned out okay. I’m a good person and so are you.”

“I love you, Gracia. I’ve loved you since the day I saw your wrinkled little red face. You’re all I have.”

“I love you, too, Dad. You’re all I have, so we’ll stick together, okay? As soon as they let me out of here, I’ll come home.” Grace thought for a moment, her brain still stuck in low gear. “I guess I’ll need to hire a nurse.”