Daniel's Gift (46 page)

"Jenny, stop. Stop!" Luke shouted.

Her hands gripped the wheel. She couldn't stop. She had to go forward. Danny was out there. She wanted to hold him, to be with him wherever he was.

"Dammit, stop the car. Are you crazy?"

Luke grabbed the wheel. They wrestled silently. The car swerved against the shoulder, stirring up rocks and pebbles.

"Let go," she cried. "Let go."

"Stop it, Jenny. Danny needs you. He needs you. Stop the car."

The words finally penetrated. Jenny eased her foot off the gas pedal. She pulled the car onto the shoulder of the road and breathed long, deep gasps of air as the panic began to recede.

"What were you trying to do?" Luke demanded.

"I'm sorry. I'm sorry." She stumbled out of the car and fled toward the beach.

Luke followed behind her. He threw a blanket over her shoulders. She tossed it on the sand.

The waves crashed in front of them. She got too close, her feet got wet. It didn't matter. She could walk into the water. She could let herself go under. Maybe then she could find Danny. He was out there somewhere. She knew it.

"Jenny. Don't."

Luke's arms wrapped around her waist.

"Let me go! Let me go!" she shouted.

"No. I will not let you kill yourself."

"Why not? Danny's dead. Why shouldn't I be, too?"

"He's not dead. When he wakes up, he'll need his mother."

"Stop pretending. Stop lying. He's hurt so bad he's never coming back."

"You have to have faith. Believe, Jenny, believe. It's the time for miracles."

"I don't believe in miracles anymore."

"I do. I'll believe in them for both of us. It's a miracle that we're here together right now."

"But Danny's gone. I can't feel him anymore." Jenny turned to face him. She drew Luke's hand to her chest. "There's nothing left in my heart. I feel alone, empty."

"You're not alone."

"I don't feel anything."

"Then feel this."

Luke's mouth came down on hers, forcefully, frantically. His arms came around her body. He crushed her chest against his, until every nerve ending, every taste, every thought was of him.

Jenny went with the kiss, with the touch. The heat of his mouth drove the coldness out of her heart. She wasn't alone anymore. She was with Luke, her first love, the man who had captured her heart and never given it back.

She wanted him as much as he wanted her, more, if that was possible. Luke pulled her shirt apart with shaky, rushed fingers. He broke the clasp on her bra, releasing her breasts, letting her warm flesh spill out on his palms.

"Jenny."

"Don't stop," she murmured when he looked into her eyes. "Don't ever stop."

"I want to love you."

She kissed him on the mouth. "Then love me, here, now. Make the pain go away."

His mouth trailed along her face, down the side of her cheek, her neck. He pushed her shirt off her shoulders, and his mouth grazed her collarbone, dropping to her breasts, caressing the valley, the peak, until she was trembling.

She ran her hands through his hair, holding his head to her breast as he devoured her with an intensity that went beyond anything she had ever felt. His mouth was warm. The heat enveloped her body.

Luke dropped to his knees, pulling her down onto the tumbled blanket she had tossed in the sand. He pulled off his shirt and his pants. She pulled her skirt up and felt a chill. It passed as Luke covered her body with his.

His hands were everywhere, his lips followed in sync. The sound of his breathing took over her thought. The waves pounding the sand echoed their passion. When Luke pushed her legs apart, she was more than ready for him. When he touched her with his fingers, she cried out.

"I want you, Luke," she said. "Inside of me. Close to me."

He entered her with a hoarse cry. The feeling of oneness was so powerful that Jenny caught her breath. He tensed, then pushed in again, harder and deeper, until she felt as if he were touching her soul.

She tightened around him, trembling as her body shook with a release that had been years in coming. Luke collapsed against her, his head coming to rest in the corner between her chin and shoulder. It had been fast, reckless, unbelievably good.

Jenny gripped Luke's back with her hands, rolling her fingers over the tense muscles in his back. She wanted to stay like this forever. Here in his arms she felt whole.

After a moment, Luke rolled over on his side, pulling her to face him. His hand ran down her back, her spine, stopping to linger on the curve of her hip.

"Too fast," he murmured. "I want to make love to you again, slowly, so that it will last forever." He kissed the corner of her mouth.

His words were sweet, tempting. No other man had ever made her feel complete. The years between loving had only heightened the intensity of the love she felt for him. They were no longer kids but adults. They had more to lose but also more to give.

Gradually, the wind picked up, and covered them with a cold, salty mist. Jenny shivered as reality began to intrude. "I'm cold," she said.

Luke looked at her and laughed. "That's because it's December, and this might be California, but I'd hardly call it tropical weather."

"This is where it all started."

"But not where it ends." He paused. "I didn't plan for this to happen, but I'm damn glad it did."

"You didn't plan it?" Jenny smiled. "Thank God!"

"We also didn't use anything, Jenny. No protection."

She looked into his eyes and saw the same awareness of the past and the present and the future. "We've come full circle, haven't we?"

"This time we both know what we want."

"Just not how to get it." She traced his lips with her finger. "Danny," she said, and the sadness seeped back into her mind, into her heart. "Neither one of us knows what's ahead for our son."

"That's the first time you've called him 'our' son." Luke pulled the side of the blanket over them, wrapping them together in a cocoon of love. He kissed her mouth lovingly, longingly.

Jenny stopped his kiss with the palm of her hand. "Are we being selfish? Making love when Danny's sick? Thinking about ourselves?"

"Danny is the reason we're together right now. If his accident has any meaning at all, it has to be this."

"I wonder if he knows." She looked toward the heavens. "I wonder where he is right now."

* * *

Danny walked through the gates, down a long, winding path that went on forever. There were flowers everywhere, rich, blooming bulbs of color. Two angels walked by his side. When he paused or faltered, they spurred him on. He didn't know where they were going, only that it seemed to take forever to get there.

Finally, he came to an archway, a garden, and a gazebo. The angels led him to the steps of the gazebo and disappeared. There was someone sitting in the shadows. Danny tried to step forward, but he couldn't move. He knew he should be afraid, but he wasn't. He felt love, not anger, and a sense of welcome.

"Can I come in?" he asked.

"Do you want to?" The voice was deep, tender, the sound of a father's voice.

"I'm not sure," Danny said.

"There is so much ahead of you, a world you have yet to experience. Are you frightened?"

"I was, but I'm not anymore." And Danny realized that he wasn't afraid. He was ready to accept his fate, whatever that might be. "I just wish I could talk to my mom," Danny said.

"Close your eyes and speak to her with your heart."

"Okay." Danny squeezed his eyes tight and tried to see his mother's face. She wasn't smiling. She looked scared and unhappy. He wanted to reassure her that everything would be all right, that he loved her, and that no matter what happened to him, he would always be with her.

When he finally opened his eyes the gazebo had disappeared and in front of him was another long path that disappeared into the clouds.

Danny looked at it for a long moment, then took his first step toward the future.

* * *

Jenny arrived at the hospital just after eleven on Christmas morning. The halls were lined with Christmas lights, decorations hanging on every door. The nurses wore Santa caps and the orderlies dressed like elves to cheer up the children.

Jenny smiled and said hello to the people that had become a second family to her. She met Angela Carpenter at the doorway to Danny's room.

"Merry Christmas, Angela." Jenny handed her a small white box. "A little something for you."

"You didn't have to do that."

"I appreciate the care you've given Danny."

"It's a pleasure."

"How is he today?"

"Restless. He's moving a bit more than I've seen him."

Jenny felt a surge of hope. "Maybe there will be a miracle this Christmas."

Angela squeezed her hand. "I hope so."

Jenny walked into Danny's room and sat down in the chair next to him. "Well, buddy, it's Christmas, and you have a pile of presents waiting for you. Wake up, honey. Please wake up."

Danny didn't move. She leaned her head back. Her mind drifted from Danny to Luke. They had gone back to her house and made love again, making up for lost time, lost hopes. Exhausted, they had fallen asleep just before dawn. She had left Luke sleeping in her bed, in the room next to Danny's.

Danny. How much he had given her. Jenny ran her fingers across the ceramic pin she had worn over her heart since the night Luke had given it to her. Her little angel.

She closed her eyes, not wanting to look at the boy in the bed but to remember the child in her heart. In her mind, she could see his face and hear his voice. His hands reached out to her, and she wanted to grab hold, but she couldn't get to him. He was beyond her reach.

He drifted further away, but his words came clearly to her.

"Don't be afraid, Mom. No matter what happens, I'll always be with you. When you look up in the sky and see a bird that's struggling to fly, that will be me. When you feel a hand on your shoulder or a spider crawl up your arm, that will be me, too, telling you I miss you. I love you, Mom."

"You're breaking my heart," she whispered back. But Danny was gone. It was just a dream. She opened her eyes and looked over at the bed, at the boy lying so still and helpless. Danny's cheeks were now a bright pink, almost red. There was sweat beading along his brow. She stared at him in horror. Something was terribly wrong.

On impulse, she leaned forward and touched his cheek. He was on fire, burning up before her eyes.

"No, no," she screamed.

Angela came running through the door. "What's wrong?"

"He's hot," Jenny said. "Look at his face."

Angela placed the digital thermometer in Danny's ear, punched a button, and withdrew it. Her face turned grim.

"What is it?"

"One hundred four degrees."

Jenny clapped a hand to her mouth, afraid to cry out for fear she would start screaming and never stop.

Danny began to breathe in short, shallow gasps.

Angela called for the doctor. An internist arrived first. He took one look at Danny and rapped out a series of orders. Jenny felt herself being pushed further and further away from her son, until she was standing in the doorway.

She felt a hand on her shoulder. It was Luke.

"What's wrong? What's happening?" he demanded, his voice taut with worry.

"He's hot. He can't breathe. I think he's dying. God, Luke, how can Danny die on Christmas?"

Chapter Thirty-One

Fifteen minutes later, Jenny walked into the hospital chapel and knelt before the altar. She pressed her hands together in front of her face and said the prayers that had meant nothing to her as a child, empty words to recite so her parents would be happy. Now, each word seemed desperately important.

"Holy Mary, Mother of God ... You were a mother, please, don't let them take my son." Jenny sat back on the pew and turned toward the figure of Jesus. "Don't take my boy. He's my life. I can't go on without him. I'm not that strong. If this is a test, I've failed."

She paused. "Take me instead. Let Danny live. He has so much ahead of him. I know he was a gift to me. He brought me joy at a moment in my life that was so bleak. Please, God, don't take that gift away, not yet."

Jenny's voice broke off. All she could hear was silence.

Luke slipped into the pew beside her. He took her hand in his. They sat silently for a long moment, two people irrevocably tied together by their child. His quiet strength gave her hope. Her anxiety faded, replaced by a strange sort of acceptance.

"Is he gone?" she whispered.

"No, Jenny. He's still alive, but he has pneumonia. They put him back on the ventilator and loaded him up with antibiotics. He's weak, and the infection ..."

"Could kill him."

He cupped her face in his hands and kissed her eyes shut, her nose, her mouth. "Faith, Jenny. You taught me that so long ago. Faith in the impossible."