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The tiny smile swept one side of her mouth up as she nodded briefly before gazing back at the bed. Distress entered her eyes. He knew the feeling and dreaded facing the hard sight cradled within her eyes.
He’d put the inevitable off long enough. Resisting reality never made it go away. Reluctantly, he forced his gaze off the floor and brought it slowly to the bed.
Dad.
Jack swallowed hard as he approached the frail-looking man engulfed by a huge, flimsy hospital gown. Jack reached through the side rail, took his dad’s hand and squeezed. Emotion clogged his throat and an invisible grenade detonated inside his chest. He swallowed but the lump in his throat refused to move. “Dad, I’m—” was all he could manage before his throat clogged again. He was what? Sorry he hadn’t been here? Sorry he might be too late? Sorry for deploying for another tour? His father looked so weak, so frail, so close to death.
“Sully, Jack’s here,” Olivia finished for him. Maybe she picked up on Jack’s fear because her face softened measurably, then her tense mouth molded into a smile. Wary of giving trust, Jack felt his muscles tighten with the typical guardedness he’d had to develop while working in a war zone amid enemies who sometimes posed as friends. Not wanting to be rude, Jack forced a mannerly smile but it felt thin and strained.
Nonetheless, the chill in her eyes thawed by several degrees as she said, “The doctor says since he got here so fast he’ll likely make a full recovery with help from physical, speech and occupational therapy.”
The tank sitting on Jack’s chest eased off a bit, allowing his voice to come back. “That’s good.” Relief was an understatement for the way her words made him feel, delivered in the same velvet voice that had kept him calm from one continent to another all the way here.
“Dad, all the guys in my unit said to hurry and get well soon or they’re gonna come kick your caboose.” He rubbed his dad’s hand, longing with all his heart to feel a squeeze back.
He knew that even though Sully slept under medical sedation and stroke aftereffects, he’d likely still be able to hear, since hearing was the last sense to go. Olivia seemed to know that, too. Actually, based on their phone conversations, Jack assumed she’d had medical training of some sort.
He caught and held her gaze. “Thank you, miss, for everything. Most of all, for recognizing what was happening, relaying it to doctors and for getting him help so fast.”
She blushed. “Thanks, but it was a team effort.” Her shy motions and soft demeanor juxtaposed with her spiky sense of fashion. Upon deeper observation, her intelligent eyes projected a strong will and an expression daring anyone to try and cross it.
She wore a black T-shirt overlaid with a gothic cross in gray graphics. White low-rise jeans sported a black patent leather belt with silver studs. Big triangle earrings and combat-style boots completed her ensemble. Somehow, it worked for her.
And surprised him with its appeal.
She must’ve noticed his assessment of her because her eyebrows drew down in a scowl. Not the usual female reaction, for sure.
He found her response refreshing, but he was irritated by his own intrigue, especially since he didn’t know or therefore trust her true motives for being here. He courteously moved his perusal from the mysterious and mesmerizing creature and shifted his gaze to the drip rate of his dad’s intravenous solution and scanned numbers on the machines, glad to see stable vital signs despite Dad’s horrible pale color.
“They think he had an undiagnosed heartbeat irregularity.” Her brows knit. “I’m not far enough into EMT school to know which kind, but they seemed to think it would be easy to treat.”
Jack nodded, deeply appreciative of the information. He’d explain heart rhythms to her in a less intense moment. For now, he needed time with his dad, preferably alone. He needed to say some things and didn’t want an audience. His apology was going to be hard enough without a stranger hearing him acknowledge his mistakes in not being here and for being a medic yet not realizing Dad was ill. They video chatted almost nightly. He should’ve noticed something was wrong. He peered at Olivia but she hadn’t budged. In fact she didn’t seem the slightest bit inclined to leave.
“I’m sure you have things to do, Miss... I didn’t catch your last name?”
“Abbott, and I have nothing more important to do.”
Jack shifted to capture her gaze but she seemed even more determined to avoid his eyes. “Thanks, ma’am, but I’ve got this. You may go now.”
Her dark eyebrows slid into a sharp V and her lips pursed. “I’m fine right here, thanks.”
Jack had never felt more territorial and annoyed in his life. He was a longtime military leader accustomed to people following his orders without hesitation.
How could this waif of a waitress not get that he wanted her to leave?
She wasn’t family. She had no right to be here. Why’d she think she did? It irritated Jack to no end.
As if sensing Jack’s thoughts, Olivia narrowed her eyes in a challenge that said if he wanted her gone, he was going to have to physically carry her out.
He was tempted.
Releasing Dad’s hand, he marched around the bed. “It wasn’t a suggestion, Miss Abbott. I’d like time with my dad. Alone.”
She scowled at first, but slowly the tenseness left her shoulders as she studied his face. Then she nodded. She grabbed her gunmetal-gray purse, studded down the sides, leaned over, brushed a gentle hand along his dad’s face and said, “Sully, I’ll be back tomorrow. Jack will hold vigil until then.” Then she slipped out of the room avoiding Jack’s gaze.
“I’m walking Miss Abbott out, Dad. Be right back,” Jack said, following her.
Once in the hallway, she turned to face him. “I realize this is the first time you’ve seen your father in person in a while. You’re entitled to want time alone with him. I was out of line.”
He studied her face like a war map. “Yet you still seem angry about having to leave.”
She started to say something then bit her tongue. “He needs someone there. It’s your place, not mine. So go back in.” She paused to peer back into his dad’s room.
A look that Jack could only describe as terror flashed across her face before calm funneled back into her expression. Then she turned without another word and strode away. Jack realized that she was scared to leave his dad. He considered calling her back but then came to his senses. This was a family matter.
This regret was his reckoning. He should have spent time with his dad while he had the chance. But the fact that Sully survived this stroke meant Jack was looking his second chance right in the face. No one was going to take that from him.
Suspicions surfaced as to why Olivia didn’t want to leave him alone with Sully. Malevolent ones. Who was she anyway? He didn’t know her or her integrity. His dad tended to be too trusting. Jack had never abused his hard-won authority but Miss Abbott, her initial stubbornness, spike-tipped tongue and his twenty total minutes of sleep in three days were driving him to the edge of reason. But hopefully this power struggle between them was a temporary glitch caused by stress and mutual concern for Sully, and would resolve when he stabilized.
A mobile phone chirped from the windowsill. Jack rushed to silence it since his dad was sleeping soundly rather than fitfully now. Upon further inspection, Jack realized this was his dad’s new phone. The caller ID said Eagle Point Bank. Jack stepped outside and called them back, introducing himself as Sully’s son, explaining that Dad was in intensive care and that Jack had power of attorney.
What he heard next made Jack want to hurl what little food he’d had.
“You’re sure about this?” Jack asked the bank officer who’d just explained how deep in debt the diner was, and how many foreclosure warnings the bank had already sent to Sully.
“I’m sorry, Jack. We’re sure. I may be able to get an extension before foreclosure proceedings begin, considering Sully’s precarious health. But I can’t guarantee it. Especially in light of how much grace has already been extended, and how many subsequent notifications and then demand letters our loan default officer has sent over the past year.”
“I understand. Just, yeah, see what you can do. Any kind of extension will help. I’ll go over the books and figure out what happened.”
Last he’d known, Dad had a cushion financially. What happened? How long had the diner been facing money trouble? Dad had probably kept his financial woes hidden from Jack, not wanting to worry him while he was off at war. His jaw clenched.
“I’ll do everything I can,” the bank contact stated. “Sully’s Diner is a city icon. We’d hate to see it disappear.”
Jack would hate it, too—Sully’s Diner had been in the family for three generations. “I appreciate the additional grace. Thanks.” He hung up and clamped a hand on the nape of his neck. He needed to stay with Dad but also needed to go to the diner and start scouring the books.
“Major General Sullenberger?”
Jack turned. A doctor who looked about Jack’s age—early thirties—approached with a smile and extended a hand. “I’m Dr. McLaren. I was here when your dad was brought here to EPTC. His last listed family doctor retired. I’m seeing him as a courtesy while he recovers. At least until we can transfer him to the stroke rehab wing at Refuge Memorial, one town over.”
“Nice to meet you. I’m thankful a trauma center was recently built here. Otherwise...” Jack didn’t need to finish. The sober look on the doctor’s face completed his thoughts. Had the trauma center not been close and Dad’s employees not gotten him help when they did, Sully may not be here. “I’m ashamed to admit I wasn’t aware of his doctor retiring, and I’m not sure why he never got a new doctor. Maybe if I’d known, this could have been prevented.” Guilt riddled Jack.
“It’s hard to say.” The doctor wrote something down on a pad and handed the page to Jack. “Here are some local doctors. One’s a military veteran, like your dad. He’ll need to have a primary care physician to follow up with as he progresses through all the poststroke therapy.”
Jack studied the list of four names and numbers. “I’ll make some calls and also see to it that he takes better care of himself.” As he said it, he knew that would be difficult if he returned overseas.
Jack had some hard decisions ahead.
“You look beat. You should go home for the night and sleep. We’ll call if anything changes. Right now, he’s stable and needs rest and quiet more than anything. As do you.”
Jack peered down the hall toward his dad’s door. He didn’t want to leave but knew the doctor was probably right on all counts. He nodded in resignation. “Okay.”
“Meanwhile, we have an Olivia Abbott listed as your dad’s emergency contact. Is that correct?”
What? Why Olivia? For sure, Jack needed to figure out why this Abbott woman was so entrenched in his dad’s life and business. “If you’d please change that to me, I’d appreciate it. I’m also his medical and legal power of attorney.” Jack gave the doctor his contact information. “I’ll be staying at his apartment above the diner.”
“Got it.” An overhead page called the doctor to another area of Eagle Point Trauma Center—EPTC. He gave Jack’s information to the nursing staff and jogged toward the stairs.
Jack returned to his dad’s hospital room to spend a few more moments with him before heading out. As he sat there, Jack wrestled with scenarios and hard questions, and a particular pixie face floated into his weary, wary mind.
Olivia Abbott, her soft voice at such odds with her edgy look, her tender affection toward his dad equally at odds with her ink-and stud-abraded skin. She was totally not his usual type.
And maybe that was exactly why he struggled to take his thoughts off her. But at this point, it was too early to tell whether he owed her an apology or a closer look in terms of her background and her motives. The doctor was obviously right. He needed rest. Sleep would rid him of the jumble of unexpected thoughts, fears, feelings, accusations and attraction ricocheting around his tired mind. Right now, his guardedness trumped anything else he might be feeling for Olivia Abbott. And he aimed to keep it that way.
Chapter Two (#ulink_e3e6cdd4-80c1-58c0-895f-d799db5ce7f0)
“So much for first impressions.”
Three days after Jack’s arrival, Olivia spread a vinyl tablecloth over the pinewood breakfast nook of the apartment she shared with Patrice. It was one of two units situated above the diner. The fact that work was literally downstairs was a huge blessing of convenience to Olivia—it made it easier for her to put in as many diner hours as she could between studying and classes and her intern shift at EPTC. Especially in light of the learning disability she kept hidden from others.
“Jack’s all bark and no bite. Don’t worry.”
“I don’t know, Patrice. He seems to get angrier by the day. He was in Perry’s face again this morning.”
Granted, she felt that was warranted, because Perry had cursed so loudly at the sinks, customers heard his rant in the dining room. She guessed Jack was also justified in telling Perry to text on his own time. However, threatening to run Perry’s phone through the dishwasher seemed a little extreme. Of course, that was after he’d already asked him multiple times to put his phone away and get to work unless on break.
“I realize he’s undoubtedly worried about his dad,” Olivia said. But there was more she wasn’t telling Patrice. Jack was fretting over the diner, too. Quite by accident, she’d caught bits of conversations he’d had with bankers and loan officers. She’d eventually moved the condiment filling station away from the office to keep from overhearing what should be a private business matter.
She wondered how much Sully knew of it. She’d appreciated Jack asking the bank people not to tell Sully how bad things were yet, so soon after his stroke. That the Sullenbergers were a well-respected family undoubtedly helped.
Patrice pulled out a small paintbrush. “He’s not himself, that’s for sure.”
“Sully or Jack?” Olivia teased, hoping to lift the melancholy cloud from Patrice’s eyes.
Patrice smiled. “Both.” She set a craft caddy on the tablecloth and grew serious. “It’s been so hard working in the diner without Sully there. Memories of him are everywhere.”
“True.” Emotions were high and Jack had been one to avoid. It was a little tough since he was staying across the hall in Sully’s apartment. Not that he was there much. He’d either been at the hospital or downstairs at the diner holed up in Sully’s office going over financial records. This afternoon, he’d emerged like a loaded tank looking for targets. He even seethed around Patrice, his pal since childhood. Not that Patrice seemed to notice—she was entrenched in another argument with her boyfriend, on par for their volatile relationship. “Still,” Olivia added, “he has one of the most intimidating personas I’ve ever encountered.” She’d tried her best to steer clear the past two shifts. That seemed to suit Jack just fine because he appeared to go out of his way to avoid her, too.
“The military must’ve changed him a lot. On the other hand, he was always one to stand up for others and act with honor and integrity.”
Olivia opened two packages of paints, one forest-colored and one in glittery jewel tones as Patrice set poster board on the tablecloth. “In fact, I can’t believe Jack made you leave the hospital that first night.”
“I can. He was bossy as all get-out.” Olivia held the glossy white cardstock in place while Patrice painted Get Well Soon, Sully onto the homemade card in beautiful flowing calligraphy.
They were making Sully a huge card for diner patrons and employees to sign. Patrice was a fantastic artist. If she’d ditch her oppressive boyfriend, her dreams of a graphic design career would surely come true.
Patrice dotted red glittery firework shapes along the card’s edge. “Take into account Jack was probably scared out of his wits and sleep-deprived from his cross-continental flight.”
Recalling the look on Jack’s face when he saw the shape his dad was in kicked Olivia’s conscience into gear. “You’re right. It must have been a shock.”
Patrice nodded and capped the red paint lid before opening the blue to create glittery sapphire stars. They’d chosen the colors in honor of Sully’s patriotic nature. His entire diner decor consisted of veteran and war memorabilia spanning decades, all the way up to the present.
Patrice switched to silver and painted swirly scrolls next to the stars. “I hope this cheers Sully up and shows him he’s well loved despite his being a grump.”
Olivia snickered. “At least we know where Jack got it from.”
Patrice giggled. Then frowned as a text notification came through her phone. “Uh-oh. Speaking of Jack...he’s calling a mandatory emergency employee meeting.”
Olivia’s pulse sped up. She had a busy week making up the clinical hours she’d missed while sitting with Sully. She also had classwork to catch up on and a huge medical research paper due soon. She couldn’t possibly fit one more thing into her week. “When?”
Patrice nibbled her thumbnail. “Not sure yet. He’s giving the time in a forthcoming text.”
“I wonder what the meeting’s about.” Olivia’s pulse ramped up even more. Were things at Sully’s bad enough financially that they were all going to be laid off, or worse, let go? “Patrice, I overheard Jack talking to the bank. I hope he’s not going to close the diner.”
Patrice blinked in surprise. “I can’t imagine. He practically grew up there. His childhood wasn’t easy. He spent more time at the diner with his dad than at home with his mom.”
It wasn’t Olivia’s business, but she couldn’t help but ponder why. She’d had a rough childhood herself and felt instant compassion for others with tough childhoods.
Patrice sighed as she completed the gorgeous card. “Jack was a good kid. A model child. Very compliant. And Sully was a model parent. He removed Jack from a volatile situation.” Patrice shook her head and seemed to snap out of her musings. “But I suppose that’s all Jack’s story to tell.”
Not that he would ever, in a trillion years, trust Olivia enough to feel comfortable sharing personal information. Everything about Jack Sullenberger screamed unscalable walls and immovable rules.
Why was it that something in her wanted to breach and break them all?
Olivia tried to imagine Sully’s struggle on behalf of his son, which led to thoughts of Jack as a boy and how hard that must’ve been. She didn’t know Jack’s story and may never.
However, she could relate to living in a troubled home. But unlike Sully, her dad had never fought for her, and knowledge of that always put a hard lump in Olivia’s throat.
Precisely why Olivia promised herself not to pursue relationships, but rather to secure a college degree and a career with which she could support herself for life. Not dating was easy, since she was so wary of men. The degree, however, was an uphill climb due to her dyslexia. But she refused to let it—or anything—stop her.
She was thankful Sully worked around her school and clinic hours to allow her adequate time to study. He was one of few people who knew about Olivia’s learning disability. Patrice, Darin and Naem were the others, but that was it. If anyone else found out—especially Jack—she’d be mortified.
She’d squirmed under the scrutiny of his gorgeous, gunmetal grays assessing her appearance at the hospital. His obvious shock at her style dinged her dignity and dented the armor of her hard-sought self-esteem. He was so strong and good-looking, his opinion mattered to Olivia more than it should. She didn’t like having to work so hard to not care what he thought of her.
“Naem told me this morning before the breakfast rush that Jack told him and Darin that he’s officially here on an extended military leave.”
“Until when?”
“I don’t know.” Patrice’s phone bleeped with another notification. Olivia blew on the card’s paint to get it to dry faster as Patrice read her text. “Oh, wow. He called the mandatory emergency staff meeting for tomorrow morning at seven.”
“Seven?” Olivia chirped. That would cut into her best sleep time. She worked the day shift at the diner, did evening EMT classes alternating every other day with clinical at EPTC and spent half the night studying until around two in the morning. She then slept until seven thirty, which was just enough time to roll out of bed, shower and dress before starting breakfast prep at the diner at eight. She’d been able to survive on so little sleep simply because she’d known she wouldn’t have to pull this schedule forever. Now Jack wanted to shake things up? Great.
He’d already upset her by sending her away from Sully. It still smarted that he’d made her leave and didn’t seem inclined to let her visit anytime soon. But that wedge was Jack’s doing and Olivia was struggling to have a right heart about it.
A band of tension tightened across Olivia’s shoulders, making it hard to breathe. She was already stretched to the max. Jack’s plans were bound to increase stress and decrease rest. How would she ever manage to comprehend past her dyslexia while running on fumes for sleep?
Olivia liked things at the diner just as they were. Sully was great about working around her school hours. She doubted, considering everything he was contending with, that Jack had the patience or presence of mind to do the same.
“You okay, Liv? You don’t look so good.”
