California Homecoming (14 page)

“Pretty vulgar way to put it.”

“I don’t like him. He’s coming to see her every other weekend, trying to get her back. She says she keeps making him mad.” He pushed his palms into the work table to keep from pounding it in frustration. “When she opened the door and saw me standing there, she looked as if I’d brought her a million dollars.”

“The ex must be a real gem.”

“Yep.”

“And — ”

“I still have to give him a chance. It’s the right thing to do.”

“But you’re making furniture for her and helping her around the place” Joe looked at him as if he was as dumb as the lumber around him.

“When I can.” Hunter began to wipe down the boards.

“Uh-huh.” Joe left the room and Hunter gave a sigh of relief.

• • •

On Saturday Hunter sped past the Sausalito exit, unable to face his parents, although he knew he’d have to stop by before going home. As he drove, Sarah’s question rumbled over and over in his mind. Would he have been better off if his parents had split up rather than having to witness their ongoing misery?

The early morning fog was beginning to lift when he took Highway 1 toward Mount Tamalpais. The twists and turns over the mountains held his concentration until he got to Stimson Beach, where he stopped for coffee and a paper.

Seagulls squawked overhead, mingling with the damp smell of sand and marsh. Die-hard cyclists in bright colored gear crowded the coffee shop, prepping for their assault on the mountain. Amidst the spandex he caught a glimpse of a strangely shaped prosthetic leg.

He met the woman’s eyes. The gray irises held experience. He rose from his seat and went over to her. “When did you serve?” he asked.

“Still in,” she said. “Mostly intel now, but used to fly a chopper. That’s how I got this. You?”

“IED.”

They were silent for a moment. Hunter was engulfed with memories and he imagined the woman was as well. “You doing the highway or the mountain?” he finally asked.

“Mountain. I used to race competitively before. I’m trying to get in shape to apply for a team on the Amgen tour.”

“Serious biking.”

“Yeah.” She moved as if to go.

“Your prosthesis. Where did you get it?”

She smiled. “Cal Poly in Santa Barbara. They’re doing some innovative work there. I told them what I wanted to do and they built it for me.”

“Think they could do one for surfing?”

“I think they already have.” She waved at a guy standing by the door. “Gotta go. Good luck with the surfing.”

She left and he stared at the door while his mind raced with possibilities. Maybe the only one limiting him was himself.

He drove to the west entrance of Mt. Tamalpais State Park with his windows open, letting his mind drift. The color of the sky segued from gray to blue, like a montage from the start of a sci-fi movie. A hawk emerged from the dissipating clouds and circled, its telltale screech piercing the air.

When he reached the Bootjack parking area, he parked and got out. Cool air filled his lungs. Slapping a cap on his head, he took off.

He went slowly at first, unsure of his footing on the uneven ground, but he was determined to begin to live again, to do the things that brought joy into his life. After the close brush with suicide by Mavericks, he wanted to get his mind and his body into shape to accomplish his ambition.

Working on the hall stand for Sarah had rejuvenated his fascination with wood, the way its heart emerged in his hands. The idea of his creations standing in people’s homes for generations empowered him. The trick would be to convince people in this bottom dollar, discount-store world that an heirloom piece of furniture was worth the price.

Sarah came to mind. She seemed confident in her marketing ability and could probably show him how to develop a marketing campaign for his company.

He smiled.
His company.
It had a nice ring to it. He knew the way Sarah felt about her inn.

What he didn’t know was how she felt about him. How could she feel anything? Her mind was tied up in knots with that Rick guy. How could she even think of taking the snake back?

When Joe had found out Mary was pregnant, he was overjoyed. Hunter’s best friend was made to have kids. He was an easygoing guy, yet a hard worker, and he was doing his best to find a job for Hunter. Hopefully, with the weather breaking soon, the economy would loosen up a little more and Hunter would be able to do more than sheetrock. The fine dust particles were beginning to embed in his skin and he was tired of the monotony.

Hunter reached the end of the trail and turned around. The hike had cleared his head, but he still hadn’t come to any conclusions about his childhood. Who could say? His family was what it was. There wasn’t any do-over.

Once he was back in his car, he slid a Secret Garden CD into the player. Someday it would be nice to have a fancy radio, with all the Internet gizmos, but today the soothing music pouring through his membranes was perfect.

“Hi, Mom,” he said when he walked into his parents’ living room a few hours later. “Dad home?”

“Oh. Hi, dear.” She looked up from her book. She looked thinner than the last time he’d seen her and a spark had left her eyes.

“You okay?”

“Oh, I’m fine, honey. Just tired today. Your dad’s at the San Francisco office. Should be home after four if you want to see him.”

Not likely.

“I’m going to get something to drink. I’ll refresh your tea.”

“Thanks.”

How was he going to broach the subject? The whistle on the kettle blew and he made the tea. While it was steeping, he rummaged in the refrigerator and found some sparkling water he’d left there the last time he’d come home.

Returning to the living room, he set the teapot on a table and settled on a chair near his mother.

“Thank you,” she said and reached for the tea. The hand that clasped the cup was bone-thin.

“Mom? Can I ask you a question?”

Stupid way to begin. A question to ask a question. No better way to telegraph that the follow-up was going to be bad.

She knew it, too. She glanced at him from under her hooded eyelids and nodded, almost imperceptibly.

“Before we moved up here, I thought, well, I had the impression that you and Dad weren’t getting along.”

“We weren’t.”

“Why did you stay?”

She pursed her lips as if trying to make a decision. Setting the teacup down, she put her hands back under the blanket. “I suppose there’s no use in keeping it secret anymore.”

He held his breath.

“I … I had met someone. I thought I was in love with him and I wanted to leave your father.”

She blinked her eyes rapidly. “He told me he’d fight me for custody of you and leave me penniless. Because your father is a lawyer, he knows all the tricks. He would have won and I’d have lost you.”

She looked at him and smiled. “But that’s old history. Like I said, it doesn’t matter anymore. Let’s not talk about it. Tell me what you’ve been up to.”

He studied her for a moment. Should he let her off the hook that easily? She looked worn out. What was the point of pursuing what might have been? “Okay, mom.”

She smiled as he told her about his job and the cabinet he was making. “Who are you making it for?”

He looked out the window for a minute, before turning back to her and answering. “No one really. I’m doing it on spec. See if a businessperson wants to display it along with my business cards.”

“Oh?” Her eyebrows raised and he caught a glimpse of the society woman she’d once been. “Isn’t that risky? Does this person get a lot of traffic? What kind of business is it?”

“Um. It’s an inn.” Really too bad his mother had to have the heat up so high. The room was getting stuffy.

“Where’s the inn? Who’s the owner? Someone we used to know?”

His shoulders slumped in defeat. “It’s our old house, Mom. A young woman bought it and she’s making it into an inn.”

“I see.” His mother picked up her tea. Even though she tried to mask it, the pain of memory flitted across her face and he noticed again how thin she was.

“Mom, is something wrong? I hate to say this, but you don’t look well.”

She set the teacup down with a rattle. After a moment she turned to him, her dark brown eyes luminescent with tears. “It’s the cancer, Hunter. It’s come back.”

“Then why aren’t you in a hospital? What do you need? I’ll kill dad if he’s not helping you get better!” Hunter stood, ready to do battle.

She waved her hand at him. “Sit. Stop being so dramatic. Your father will do anything I ask now that it’s come to the end.”

Hunter’s breath became raw. “What do you mean, the end?”

“They can’t do much. It’s spread everywhere.”

“What about radiation?”

She shook her head again. “I refused it. The treatment makes you sicker than the illness. I want to die in dignity, in my home, watching the ferry boats cross the bay and the lights come on in the city, not in some sterile room somewhere.”

All the peace he’d gotten on Mount Tam deserted him. “Oh, Mom.” He fought back the tears.

There’d been very little left to say after that, Hunter reflected on his way back to Santa Cruz. This time he eschewed the slow route. Speed was what he needed and fortunately the traffic was light and the road clear. Although he expected a swirling red light at any moment, he made it home — or what passed for home — by nightfall.

He went straight back to his residence motel, exchanging a few words in Spanish with the other residents. Eating held no appeal and he knew drinking would be a mistake.

Instead, he took out his laptop.

For the next few hours he surfed the web to learn about the latest in prosthetics. What he saw gave him hope. The tinkerers and scientists, bless them, were inventing techniques to help paraplegics to do almost anything. He shot off an email to his medical coordinator to find out the process to get what he needed at a price he could afford.

He tapped his fingers on the hard plastic and stared at the cracks that ran from the ceiling molding. The motel was old and had been through the 1989 earthquake. Obviously, repair had been sketchy.

He really needed to find a new place to live. He’d been holding out hope for the inn, but now that Rick was back in the picture, that wasn’t realistic. Sarah’s ex probably wouldn’t take kindly to a competitor living in the same house with the woman he was trying to woo.

The thought brought Hunter up short. Despite what he’d said to Joe, did he want to convince Sarah that Rick was wrong for her?

The picture of his mother shrinking into her chair for the rest of her short life came back to him, as did the question Sarah had posed.

Life sure was a crap shoot. He knew he didn’t want the life his mother had lived. No matter what the statistics showed, surely a family as strife-riven as his had been couldn’t have been better than a single mother.

But his father would have carried through with his threat. Hunter was sure about that. So he would have wound up living with the bastard he hated more than anyone else in the world.

Not a better choice.

Maybe Sarah and Rick could make it work. She deserved to be happy. Hunter shouldn’t stand in her way.

As long as Rick didn’t hurt Sarah, it would be okay, wouldn’t it?

The acid in Hunter’s stomach told him guessing at the state of Sarah’s happiness wouldn’t be enough. He had to know.

Hunter needed an excuse to check up on Sarah once in a while.

A brown recluse spider crawled from the ceiling corner as Hunter stared at the cracks. He needed to get out of here, but that would take more money than he could make from sheetrocking. Money he could get from business.

A smile crossed his face. He needed marketing advice, didn’t he? He’d stop by the inn on his way home from Joe’s shop on Sunday just to make sure Sarah was doing okay.

Right.

• • •

It was after three when Hunter left Joe’s workshop. He’d lost track of time as he layered coats of stain on the wood, wiping each down carefully to avoid unevenness and drips. Joe and his family had gone to his mother’s in San Jose, so the house was quiet.

Hunter turned off the classical music he’d had on all day and left the shop, regaining peace through satisfaction.

His tires crunched up the inn driveway. The gardener was making progress with the front; he could see the outline of the garden the previous owners had created from his mother’s humble start.

If only his mother could be strong enough to see the garden when it was complete.

Hunter shook the thought from his head and rang the doorbell. Immediately, Daisy started barking, a frantic note to her sound.

Without deliberation, Hunter pushed the door open, thankful it was unlocked. The stream of fading sunlight brightened the entryway and the bottom of the stairs.

Daisy’s barks became more frenetic and Hunter’s chest tightened as he rushed to the figure crumpled on the floor.

Using his rudimentary medic training, he checked for a pulse, broken bones, wounds, and any blood to indicate Sarah had had a miscarriage.

Nothing.

He tried to wake her, with no success. After scooping up cell phone lying next to her on the floor and putting it in his pocket, he picked Sarah up and carried her to the Jeep, locking a protesting Daisy behind the front door.

Gravel spun has he headed to the hospital. He prayed he’d found Sarah in time.

Sarah struggled to open her eyes against the bright lights. Antiseptic smells tinged her nose.

“Doctor? She’s stirring.”

“Good.” Doctor Hadiya pushed aside the curtain.

Sarah’s eyes opened fully and she struggled to get to a sitting position.

“Stay down.” The doctor’s voice was firm.

“The baby?” Sarah’s heart stilled waiting for the answer of the fate of her child.

“Okay. For now.” The doctor tapped the tablet she had in her hand and studied the results. “Have you been resting, like we discussed?”

Guilt made Sarah shudder. The auction on Saturday had left little time for rest, except when Mandy drove. “Mostly.”