Wild Honey (21 page)

“Wh-What?” Trent’s voice, sounding alien and thick with emotion, echoed in the sudden quiet. Swiping at his eyes with his sleeve, Travis peered at the older man with shocked awareness. His father’s cheeks were wet.

“What—” Trent blinked to clear his eyes “—what did you say?”

Not quite believing the pain and remorse he saw in his eyes, Travis prayed for the right words. “Father, I came here today to try to heal things between us. I’m not-very good at this, but…but I want you to know, I’m sorry for all the pain I’ve caused you.” He paused for a breath. “You’ve gotta believe that what I did at the time I did because I felt it was right. I thought I was bein’ true to myself. Now I know otherwise. I did it mainly to thwart you, more than anythin’, ‘n’ for that, I’m sorrier than I can say. Can…can you accept that? Can you forgive it?”

“My God,” the older McLean whispered brokenly. And then he began to sob.

“S
IT DOWN, SON
.” Struggling to collect himself, Trent awkwardly gestured Travis into a chair across from him.

Son. He hasn’t called me that in decades.
Stunned, Travis lowered himself into the chair. He felt a compassion he hadn’t thought possible as he watched his father grope for words.

He was at a loss for words himself. He knew how difficult this must be. His father, for all his faults, had always been a proud man; breaking down as he had, especially in front of his estranged son, had to have cost him plenty.

“I left the hospital today,” Trent said, staring at his tightly clasped hands, his voice raw and uneven, “as badly shaken as I’ve ever been in my life. It was as if…as if, in losin’ Wally, I’d reached some sort of…personal watershed. A crisis of monumental proportions.”

He raised his head, meeting Travis’s eyes. “When I stumbled out of that operatin’ room today, Travis, I could feel the weight of my own mortality on my back.

“Y’see, I’d already begun to question myself about…well, about many things. As a man gets older…” He shrugged, gave a self-effacing smile. “‘Course, you wouldn’t know ‘bout that yet, son.”

Wouldn’t I? I’ve done some heavy questioning of my own with the passing of time.

“At any rate,” Trent went on, “it was in this godawful vunerable mood that I came home to Sunnyfields. And then, to find
you
here! Well, I reckon it’s much easier to
mask such feelin’s with anger than admit to ‘em.” He gave Travis a rueful smile. “And anger was par for the course, anyway, where you’re concerned.”

Travis nodded, managing a wry smile.

“Well, as I said, I’d already begun to question myself, doubt myself. And then came your bitter diatribe. No, son, let me finish. This has to be said.

“Y’see, your accusations—your
rightful
accusations—drove home, as nothin’ else could, those doubts I was havin’. Doubts about the values I’ve embraced to the detriment of things I should’ve placed first in my life, but didn’t. Things…! lost, because I’d thrown them away.” His gaze reached deep as it held Travis’s. “Like a son. Like a family.”

Travis felt light-headed. Was this really his father speaking?

“The last thing Wally Reston said to me before they put him under—” Trent’s voice trembled with emotion “—was that he prayed I’d have my son back again. That, when all’s said ‘n done, a man’s children are his only immortality. And that family is a gift too precious to sacrifice on the altar of pride and…and ambition.”

Travis swallowed thickly, a look of contrition on his face. “And I wrote the man off as a meddlin’ busybody. I hope I never pass such unfair judgment on anyone again.”

His father smiled at him. “Seems poor Wally’s given us each a gift, then, a lesson, and we’ve both been enriched by it.”

“A lesson?” Travis asked as he saw that his father was still smiling. A warm smile, open and kind. Taking it in slowly, he was aware he was seeing his father as he’d never seen him before. As perhaps no one had ever seen him.

“Travis…” Trent became choked up, had to begin again. “Son, I’ve wasted so many years. I…I love you, and…and I only hope it’s not too late to ask you to forgive me. God, I’ve been such a fool!”

Watching him bury his face in his hands and sob, Travis felt his own eyes fill again. “Maybe you’re not the only one,” he said gruffly. He swiftly knelt beside his father’s chair and pulled him into his arms. “And it’s not too late. I…I’ve come home and, dammit, I love you, too!”

H
ER FIFTY LAPS
completed, Sarah lay stretched out on a large monogrammed towel beside the Sunnyfields pool. Water trickled from her short wet hair; a light breeze fanned the drops beading her sun-bronzed skin, raising gooseflesh. She scarcely noticed. Lost in thought, the youngest McLean tried to absorb the enormity of what had happened this day.

To say she’d been shaken by what she witnessed a few hours earlier was an understatement. Anxious about Travis’s meeting with their father and noting the worry in her mother’s eyes as the two women awaited its outcome, she’d tiptoed to the living-room doors and peeked inside. Never could she have imagined that scene!

The sound of Trent McLean’s sobs had been jarring enough; not once in her lifetime had she seen her father cry. But the sight of Travis clutching Daddy in his arms, his face wrenched with emotion, had nearly torn her apart. And filled her with unbearable joy.

Her memory of what happened afterward, was jumbled. She recalled running to the den to fetch her mother. And the look on Mother’s face while she tearfully babbled what she’d seen. The two of them deciding to give the men time to compose themselves, though dying to know what had happened. And finally that moment when father and son, arms about each other—arms
about each other!—came
to the den to announce a miracle.

Sarah shook her head, still hardly able to take it all in. Daddy was a changed man. That alone was hard to digest, though his story about his dead friend made sense. But even more incredible was what Travis had explained: that his
reconciliation with Daddy had come without a word being mentioned about his decision to return to medicine!

Instead, Travis had saved that piece of news until the two of them joined the women. And then Daddy had
protested,
of all things! Travis didn’t need to do that, he’d said. It was all Travis could do to convince him he’d reached the decision quite apart from his desire to reconcile with his father.

“Better put some gunk on those shoulders, Pumpkin.” Travis’s voice broke into Sarah’s thoughts. “That ol’ sun’s hotter ‘n Hades.”

“Where are you off to?” Shielding her eyes with her hand, she peered up at him, noting the car keys dangling from his fingers. “What’s up?”

“Oh, this ‘n’ that,” he said enigmatically.

“Travis McLean, don’t you dare be mysterious with me!”

He grinned at her. “Well, among other things, I just got permission to borrow the
Sarah Anne
for a few days.”

Sarah pushed herself to her knees. “From Daddy?” The
Sarah Anne
was the family’s yacht—all 130 feet of her—and Trent McLean’s pride and joy; he never let
anyone
sail on it unless he was aboard.

“Uh-huh.” He was still grinning.

“But he never…”

“Did this time. Uh, after I explained to him ‘n’ Mother that I needed it to do some fancy courtin’, that is.” He winked at her.

“Courtin’? D’you mean you’re seriously pursuin’ that woman who’s…”

“The mother of my son, yeah.” Travis gestured toward the house, just visible beyond the tennis courts. “Told ‘em ‘bout that, too.”

“Omigosh! What’d they say?”

“Mother can’t wait to meet Randi ‘n’ Matt.” He shook his head and chuckled. “She also said I’d better put a weddin’
ring on the lady’s finger right quick. Then she changed her mind ‘n’ said to make it an engagement ring. Said she wants to play mother of the groom at a big formal weddin’.”

Sarah grinned at him. She’d left for her swim while their parents had been deep in a private conversation. Her mother had never looked so relaxed. Nor her father, for that matter. “And Daddy?” she asked. “What’d he say?”

“Said to marry the woman if I love ‘er, then studied me a second ‘n’ said, ‘Never mind, any fool can see you do.’ And
then
he asked when he could meet his grandson! Said he has a golf swing he wants to show ‘ im, ‘n’ lots of other things, too. ‘Grandfather-to-grandson things,’ he called ‘em.”

Sarah felt a sudden rush of tears. She blinked them back and met her brother’s gaze. “He means it, doesn’t he, Trav? He’s really truly changed.”

Not trusting his voice, Travis nodded. So much had happened so fast his system was threatening to go into overload. His father had even offered to speak to Aunt Louise about sponsoring Troy at Stanford, if Troy really wanted to go into research, as Travis suggested. And when he’d left them, his parents were planning to go to Europe for a second honeymoon.

He shook his head in wonder. He’d never believed in miracles, yet he knew he’d seen one today. Now all he needed was a little faith, and maybe he’d be graced with another.

Randi. Could he dare hope to free her from her past? What he hadn’t told Sarah was that he’d just made a phone call to Jill Terhune, and the results had been encouraging. She was making no promises, but Jill said she’d think about what he had in mind. She said she had some good feelings about recent developments between him and Randi. And Matt, of course.

Matt. God, but he loved that kid! Matt was a miracle all
by himself. But Randi worried him more than he liked to admit. Was it possible to get past her fear? Get her to care for him, as he’d begun to care for her? Huh, might as well quit mincing words.
As he’d begun to love her.

He smiled, remembering her face after he’d kissed her last night. Maybe he did have a chance. He’d never believed in romantic love, either, and look at him now. Hell, maybe the age of miracles had arrived.

“R
ECONCILED
! T
RAVIS
, that’s wonderful news!” Randi and he were walking in the park near her home. Up ahead, Matt tossed a Frisbee for Ulysses, laughing each time the dog caught it. It was nearing dusk, and with Travis’s impromptu visit, the little imp had again won a postponement of his bed time. “How did it happen? Tell me.”

Travis chuckled. “Lord, if you don’t remind me of Matt when you get excited!”

“Well, of course I do. I mean, we’re related, aren’t we?” She felt herself blush, glad it was growing dark, so maybe he wouldn’t notice. She was remembering the countless times she’d thought the same about him—that he reminded her of Matt. And how at first this had unnerved her, made her uncomfortable. And how it no longer did. How, instead, each little quirk, each similarity, filled her with an undeniable warmth, a curious sense of peace and…joy!

“Aren’t sons and their mothers supposed to share a few genes?” she demanded, hoping to cover the silly grin that had started to spread across her face with these thoughts.

“Yes, ma’am,” Travis said, smiling down at her. “I believe y’all are.” Without pausing, he captured her hand as they walked, savoring the feel of her slender fingers, pleased when they curled within his clasp.

A tender warmth stole through her with this contact, and Randi exhaled slowly, barely avoiding a sigh. She felt so
good
when he held her hand this way—as he had last night. Lord, she’d had the sweetest dreams about those moments
they’d shared—the way he’d looked at her as they stood over their sleeping son, the way he’d kept her hand in his, his touch gentle, the way he’d kissed her….

He made her feel warm and protected…and cherished. Travis, whose very presence had once made her want to grab her son and run. How had they come this far? How had she come to…She swallowed thickly. Could it be…? Were her feelings running
that
way? Deep enough to be called…

Unwilling to complete the thought—at least for now, with Travis beside her and perhaps able to sense something—she quickly drew their conversation back on course. “Uh, we were talking about you and your family, remember?” She still couldn’t get over his news.

He recounted his visit to Sunnyfields, omitting the most private moments with his father, but explaining about Wally Reston. Reston, whose funeral he’d be attending tomorrow. That this would postpone his plans for the
Sarah Anne
was something he also omitted. Of course, Jill hadn’t yet given her sanction, but—

“Hey, Travis, didya see that?” Matt came running up with a Frisbee-bearing Ulysses at his heels. “I throwed it reeal far—” he gestured toward the distance, where a man with a small boy waved as they strolled away “—an’ that kid’s dad helped Lysses find it. It was in the bushes, but Tommy—that’s the kid-says his dad’s a real good Frisbee finder. But I tol’ him ‘bout you ‘n’ how you’re a good finder, too.” He looked at Randi. “Right, Mom?”

Breathless with this recital, he glanced at Travis, then back at Randi. “Mom?”

“What, sweetheart?”

“Could Travis be my daddy?”

Randi swallowed, hard, an ocean of conflicting thoughts whirling through her brain—that Travis
was
his father, that her son’s poignantly innocent question only served to drive home her doubts about what she’d done, that Matt’s longing
for a father who’d be a part of his life, like this Tommy’s dad, was tearing at her very soul…

And that this was the most awkward moment of her life. God, she wished the ground would open up and swallow her, so she needn’t respond!

Noting her discomfort, Travis swallowed past the sudden constriction of his throat and stepped in. He smiled at his son, determined to make it seem as if Matt’s question was nothing out of the ordinary. In her distress, Randi had released his hand, and he used it to ruffle Matt’s hair. “Tell us what you’d do first thing, Tiger, if somebody waved a magic wand—”

“Like a fairy godmother?”

“Yep, like a fairy godmother…or maybe a fairy godfather…”

Matt giggled.

“And after she or he waved it, let’s say I’d be your dad…” Struggling to keep his voice light, Travis hoisted Matt to his shoulder, retrieved Randi’s hand and headed back the way they’d come. “What would you do with me, huh?”

Matt looked thoughtful as he pondered this. “I’d ‘vite you to camp out—in a real tent!” he said, sliding a glance at his mother.

“Hmm,” said Travis, “sounds neat. What else?”

“Well, we could play ball ‘n’ stuff, ‘n’ you could help me ‘n’ ‘Lysses find Frisbees.”

“But don’t we do some of those things now?”

“Yeah,” Matt said, “but if you were my dad, you’d be around to do ‘em
all
the time.”

His father nodded, wanting to look at Randi for her reaction, but sensing she wouldn’t appreciate this right now.

“An’ y’know what else?” Matt added brightly. “Every night, when you ‘n’ Mom tuck me into bed—like last night?—I’d tell you how much I love you. I’d tell God how much I love you, too, ‘n’ ‘member you in my prayers!”

Travis couldn’t speak. By sheer force of will, he kept walking, aware of how Randi’s fingers clenched within his grasp. Finally, unable to help himself, he glanced at her face.