The Coltons: Nick, Clay & Jericho. Marie Ferrarella
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hidden her pregnancy from Alan for a more obvious and insidious reason than a marriage that had wound down to duty? “What if Alan isn’t the baby’s father? Would you have heard rumors if I was having an affair?”
Dr. Barton sat back as if someone had tried to yank his chair out from under him. “The Talbots have a bad habit of making destructive decisions, but not you, Cate.”
“Talbots?” She found no comfort in his vehement support.
“Your father’s family. Your Aunt Imogen and Uncle Ford. Before you, the Talbots have tended to live by their own reckless rules, but you’ve broken that mold, Cate. I’ve known your family a long time, and I’ve seen you make healthier choices than the others.”
“Explain, please.”
“No. You speak to Imogen or Caroline.” At his nervous glance, she imagined redheaded women who ran with wolves and men who sought the company of sinners. “You need to rebuild your relationships with your aunt and uncle and sister, not with me.”
“You’re not hurt because I can’t remember you.”
He held up both hands. “You have to jump off this cliff. Think of me as a parachute if you jump and you need help getting to the ground, but talk to your family.”
Outside her room, a woman’s voice paged another doctor over the PA system, and some sort of heavy equipment rolled down the hall on squeaky wheels. Still, Dr. Barton waited for her to behave the way she always had.
Cate covered her face with her hands, but then flattened her palms at her sides. “I can’t lie here and wait for my life to happen to me, can I?”
He slipped his hands in his pockets. “I’ll arrange for Dr. Davis to see you. Figure out what to tell Alan about the baby.”
Memory must shape a person’s sense of self. When she tried to think how she should approach Alan, she faced a mental blank. “I think I’ll try the truth.” She winced a little. “The truth as we know it, anyway.”
ALAN DIDN’T go home and sleep. Instead, he asked Dan to join him in an early round of golf at the country club they’d belonged to since Dan had begun to show unexpected talent for the game.
Alan kept waiting for the right moment to ask his son why he was avoiding Cate. Since his golf skills didn’t measure up to Dan’s, searching for lost balls usually made them talk. Today Dan helped him scour the primordial, South Georgia forest in uneasy silence. He grunted one-syllable responses to Alan’s opening gambits. Finally, after they turned in their cart, Alan suggested lunch in the club’s excessively Victorian grill room.
After they ordered, Dan sprawled in his wide wooden chair with a look that anticipated a firing squad. “What do you want, Dad?”
His sullen question surprised Alan. Normally, Cate handled these types of conversations. He didn’t know where to go when Dan was clearly saying he didn’t want to talk.
“Are you angry with your mom? Why won’t you go see her?”
Dan rubbed his chin, unconsciously pointing out a little late adolescent acne. “She only woke up yesterday. I had to do some stuff for Uncle Ford and Aunt Imogen.”
Was he serious? Did he really think the horses Uncle Ford boarded or Aunt Imogen’s errands might be more important than Cate? “But why didn’t you stay long enough to tell your mom you were glad she’s okay? I know you are.”
“You’re talking like you think I wish she was still in the coma. I’m not a kid, Dad. I’ll go see her.” He sat back as their server delivered sodas and small salads.
“Hey, Dan,” the girl said.
“Hey. You know my Dad?” Dan generally knew more of the people who worked at the club than Alan or Cate. He’d played enough golf here to earn a scholarship for college.
This time, the girl looked faintly familiar.
“Sure, I know Mr. Palmer. How are you?” she asked.
He was on the verge of losing his mind. “Fine. Nice to see you.”
Nodding, she turned away. Dan’s smirk mocked his father. “Why didn’t you just admit you didn’t know her? I would have introduced you again.”
“To be honest, I don’t have time. I need to go back to the hospital, and I wish you’d come with me.”
Dan lifted his soda for a slow sip. When he put the glass down, he wiped his mouth and looked like the kid Alan remembered. “I’ll go,” he finally said, “but I’m not sure why. She doesn’t even know us.”
Alan studied him, taken aback. He finally understood how Cate had felt when she’d been the one Dan turned to. She’d handled their family’s emotional upheavals and freed Alan to provide material support. He wanted to retire to a safe corner and wallow in his own fear, but this time he was the one who had to put his son first.
“Are you afraid your mom’s not going to get well?” He was starting from scratch with a boy he loved more than his own life.
Dan’s friend came back and slid their meals onto the table. Even after she left, Dan focused all his attention on getting ketchup to come out of its bottle.
“Son, I need you to talk to me.”
“What am I supposed to say? How does she want us to feel about her? She’s always been overprotective. She offered my little league coach tips when he yelled at me for rubbernecking. She’s chaperoned every school trip I’ve ever taken. Now, she looks at me and her bottled water with the same interest.”
Dan had avoided overt affection for about four years, but Alan dared to clip his son’s shoulder with a loose fist. “Don’t underestimate how much she needs you. I don’t think she’s forgotten us forever, and she’s still your mom. You be a son to her, and she’ll follow your lead.”
Alan felt like a fraud advising Dan when he still hadn’t decided what he was going to tell Cate about the business. As he’d chased her out of the office, he’d longed for a chance to start over. He had it now, but it was a bitter beginning.
“Dad, you look worried. I don’t want you to keep anything from me.”
Alan shook off his indecision for Dan’s sake. “Dr. Barton promised your mom will be back on her feet in time to see you graduate.”
Dan folded a fry into his mouth. “Will she want to come?”
Alan dropped the corner of his turkey club. “Yes.” Cate would have found an answer more convincing than his shocked, one-word response. He tried again. “She’ll want to see you graduate from high school.”
Dan sounded a youthful, impatient snort. “Sorry, Dad, but I can’t really take your word for it.” He tossed another fry into his mouth and talked around it. “I’ll go by the hospital after practice this afternoon.”
Alan didn’t pause to enjoy his success. “Thanks, son. I’d better get back myself. How are your aunt and uncle?”
“I stayed at Aunt Imogen’s last night after I fed the horses. Uncle Ford came over for a movie and popcorn, and then I walked Polly for Aunt Imogen.”
Imogen had recently retired Polly, her old roan mare, from farm work. She’d presented Polly with an extravagant straw hat that matched one of her own. Shocking the neighborhood, but never Cate and Caroline, who loved their aunt for her fabled eccentricity, both Imogen and Polly wore their finery for their nightly walks.
“Did you wear the hat?”
“Sure, Dad, and I took a picture so you could use it for that dorky Christmas card you send out every year.”
Cate actually sent the card, but Alan had taken pride in her annual record of their family. He pushed his chair back. “Why don’t you stay with Uncle Ford tonight? I’m sure your being there helps them.”
“Maybe