The Lucky Charm (The Portland Pioneers) (40 page)

She paused and steadied herself, gripping the microphone in front of her harder. Jack could see the white of her knuckles even on the small screen. He’d seen how hard it was to admit this to him, but to the general public? For a split second, Jack wondered what had forced her into doing it. If it was that Toby Palmer prick, he was going to regret today a
lot
.

“From the moment I started to work for Charlie Walker at the Pacific Northwest Sports Network, two weeks after graduation, he was there for me. I don’t know how he found out about my dad, or about my mom either, because I’d made sure to not tell him, but somehow, he knew. And in the next three years, in small ways, and in big ones, he also made sure I knew he was there for me. He gave me this job opportunity in Portland. And this morning…”

Jack saw her reach deep inside to compose herself. The tremor on her pale face was almost more than he could bear.

“I’m his emergency contact and received a phone call early this morning, informing me that he’s had a heart attack and is currently in intensive care in a Seattle hospital. I wanted to make plans to leave Portland to go to him, but was informed by an executive at the Pacific Sports Network that I was not allowed to take even a short leave of absence.” She took a deep breath. “Not because I’m wonderful at this job, or because this broadcast can’t exist without a sideline reporter, but because you might like me, and this particular executive isn’t willing to sacrifice even the tiniest ratings drop. If he’s right and you
do
like me on the sideline, then I’m sorry to say that I won’t be doing it in the future. Charlie needs me, and he’s all I have left.” Her voice cracked at the last word and there were clearly tears in her eyes.

“Whether you continue to tune in without my updates is up to you. I thought you should know the full story before I left. This is Isabel Dalton, signing out.”

The screen went black, indicating the video had ended and all Jack could think was he had to go with her. He couldn’t, of course, but that didn’t stop him from wanting to.

“I didn’t think she had it in her,” Noah said, still with that mystified surprise in his voice.

Reluctantly, Jack handed the tablet back to Foxy. “I did. I always knew.”

“This is all anybody is going to talk about forever.” Jack wasn’t surprised that Noah said it; no doubt he was getting a little sick of questions about his head. Kind of like how Jack never wanted to talk about mowing another lawn.

“I need to call her,” he finally said, more to himself than to anybody. “Now.”

Izzy didn’t wait to see the reaction to her last sideline report. She got the hell out of Dodge.

If she’d stopped on her way out of the stadium for all the sympathy hugs and handshakes, she never would have made it to the airport and gotten the last seat on the flight. She wasn’t even entirely sure the flight attendants hadn’t seen the video, because their smiles seemed sadder and a little more genuine when they told her they’d found a seat for her after all.

The plane hit the runway at Sea-Tac almost twelve hours since the phone call that had woken her up. Izzy could only thank God that she hadn’t had any more updates from Carol Steele, RN. Her phone hadn’t left her hand on the off chance she did call and it was her last chance to say goodbye to Charlie.

But by the time the cab dropped her off at the hospital and she took the elevator eleven floors to the ICU, she was informed by the nurse on duty that Charlie Walker had recovered enough from his initial heart attack to be moved. Visiting hours started at 10:00 a.m. tomorrow morning.

This was Seattle, not Portland, so it made sense that the woman hadn’t seen the broadcast. Or one of the many iterations that had apparently already made it to YouTube. Izzy straightened her back and told her own DNA to go to hell.

“I’m his daughter.”

Those were the magic words, apparently, because the nurse immediately took her to the floor Charlie was staying on, opened the door to his room, and motioned her inside.

“Mr. Walker, here’s someone I know you’ll want to see.”

“If it’s another damn doctor, no thank you,” Charlie said, and she could nearly hear the grimace that must be on his face.

Izzy paused at the doorway, the sound of his voice resonating inside her. For the first time since the phone call early this morning, the tension she’d held deep inside her began to relax the tiniest bit. He was going to be okay. He was making jokes. She hadn’t epically messed up by leaving him all alone, when she could have badgered him into eating healthier and maybe even exercising if they’d been in the same state. His death wasn’t going to be her fault.

She stepped into the room, and she stared at the man in the bed, hooked up to IVs and wires and monitors, but his face as dear and doughy as ever. “Charlie.”

The entire plane ride she’d second guessed her decision to make that insane and career-ending statement. Seeing Charlie’s face light up at her appearance was all the confirmation Izzy needed to know she’d made exactly the right choice.

“Izzy, my girl. You came.”

Izzy dropped her purse on the chair and walked over to his bed, picking up one of his pudgy hands and gripping it between her own. “Of course I came, silly,” she said, blinking away a few tears. “Nothing was going to keep me away.” And hopefully he wouldn’t find out just how true that was for a while. Nothing would send his blood pressure up like watching her last on-air report.

He’d be furious at Toby and at her, for throwing her career away. She was going to have to find a way to tell him that she hadn’t been cut out for journalism anyway, and she wasn’t sure how well he’d take that. From the beginning, he’d believed in her and fought for her, and she didn’t want him thinking she’d thrown it away easily.

I hated it
, she imagined telling him.
I was miserable. And it wasn’t just Toby. And it wasn’t just that I wanted to be with Jack.

God, she was going to have to tell him about Jack, too. Izzy glanced over at the beeping monitors and the grayish cast to Charlie’s face and decided that, too, could wait.

“By the way,” she said, leaning down so that the nurse couldn’t hear her, “if anybody asks, I’m your daughter.”

His grip on her hands tightened, and his voice didn’t have the teasing note hers did. “Of course you are.”

Another tear slid down her cheek, and she disentangled their hands to wipe it away. “I’m sorry,” she mumbled, almost embarrassed. Her dad had raised her to be tough, but she was running a little low on tough today.

“How long could Toby spare you for?” he finally asked.

Izzy exhaled a little. “As long as I’m needed here, which I imagine will be at least a few weeks.”

Charlie frowned. “The Pioneers are in the middle of a pennant race. Are you sure he was okay with you just leaving?”

She almost couldn’t bear the moment where he’d look disappointed in her.
Tough love
, she reminded herself,
you’re stronger than this.
It felt right to be repeating her real dad’s words in her head as she stood at Charlie’s bedside. And while she might resent him a little for not being as gentle with an adolescent girl as he could have been, her dad
had
made her tough. Tough and smart and strong. Without the skin she’d forcibly grown, she never could have made it through the last six months. And for that, she was grateful. It was too bad he wasn’t here so she could tell him.

“I quit.”

Charlie didn’t even say anything, just stared at her incredulously. “I think I might be on the wrong medication,” he finally mumbled. “I thought you said you quit.”

She reached back and pulled a chair up to his bed, sitting down and sliding off her heels gratefully. “I did quit. Toby wouldn’t let me go, and I couldn’t not be here.”

“We can fix it,” Charlie said with determination. “I’ll make a call to Mitch tomorrow.”

Izzy had never loved him more than she did in that moment, but she took a deep breath and said, “No, I don’t want to fix it. I wanted to quit. I hated that job. I’ll be happier without it.”

Charlie’s smile bloomed. “Maybe you will. I’ve always believed you can do anything you set your mind to, Iz.”

The tears threatened again, and this time she let them fall without shame. “I know. And that means everything.”

“I think it must have been worse than your emails,” he said softly. “You should have told me.”

“I had it under control.”

“You always had my support,” Charlie reassured. “I never would have let Toby fire you. And Mitch, for all his asshole tendencies, wouldn’t have either. You’re too talented.”

“What if I did something bad?” The question was out of her mouth before she could snatch it back.

Charlie looked wary. “How bad is bad?”

Izzy glanced down at the tiles on the floor. She
hated
hospitals. She knew they were, at their most basic,
good
institutions designed to save people, but they’d only broken her heart, over and over again.

“Jack Bennett. I didn’t follow your advice.” He’d stood by her even if it meant moving to Las Vegas, even if it meant giving up the dream he’d had forever. The very least she could do was risk Charlie’s wrath. “I’m in love with him.”

Charlie’s expression softened. “Of course you’re in love with him. I hope to God you’ve thrown away that terrible wig,” he said with an unbelievable twinkle in his eye. The man had had a
heart attack
today. What was up with him twinkling at her? Was it the drugs they’d given him?

The nurse walked back in the room then, and apparently didn’t like the emotional stress Izzy was causing because she got a mini glare and an order to come back in the morning. “Mr. Walker needs his rest,” the nurse said, and Izzy couldn’t argue with that one.

“You’ll stay at my place,” he said, before she turned to go. “You still have the key?”

She nodded. She’d already assumed that. He’d need the help when he was released from the hospital. He’d also need the support when he had to change pretty much every damn thing about his lifestyle. But that was going to be horrible enough when he realized it. She wasn’t going to bring it up now.

She took a cab to Charlie’s townhouse. On the drive there, she pulled her cell phone out of her purse and hesitated briefly before turning it on. If she could have left it off, she would have, because no doubt the repercussions of her little on-air stunt were going to be bad.

She turned the phone on anyway. There was nothing left Toby could even say that would mean anything. She’d officially left him far behind—mentally, emotionally, physically.

Surprisingly—or maybe not surprisingly—there was nothing on email or voicemail from Toby. Only a short, succinct email from the Network’s HR coordinator, asking for her current address so a final paycheck could be sent out.

Her voicemails followed the same lines as the emails—an avalanche of sympathy and concern, and even a few congratulatory messages celebrating her freedom. But the last voicemail made her pause and actually smile, despite what a crap day this had been.

“Hi, it’s Jack.
God,
Iz. I just saw your broadcast after the game. There really aren’t words…I can’t say I’m sorry enough. I hope Charlie’s okay. Let me know right away when you find out. Love you.”

She let herself into Toby’s dark condo with her spare key, she set her suitcases down and pulled out her phone so she could call Jack back, but in the end, she hesitated with her finger poised over his contact.

It was late. She was tired. Those were perfectly normal excuses, but there was something deeper and bigger going on here. Suddenly, she wasn’t sure she’d ever be back to Portland. She didn’t have a job there anymore. Seattle was technically her home.
Charlie,
who needed her to basically save his life, was in Seattle.

Maybe it would be better to start pulling away from him now. The possibility created a horrible ache deep inside, but she and Jack had never discussed the future, maybe because they’d both subconsciously acknowledged there was really no future to discuss.