Anna's Courage (Rose Island Book 1) (27 page)

“It’s okay,” I said.

Travis’s eyes gleamed with mischief. “Does that mean we can bake cookies now?”

I smiled. “Definitely. Let’s bake the cutout kind, smother them with frosting, and eat until we get a bellyache.”

Travis grinned and gave a thumbs up. “Sounds like a good plan, Mom!”

*

Two hours later,
the kitchen was a mess from baking cookies, and I was worried about my parents. I’d called both their cell phones only to hear them ringing in Travis’s room. My father must be taking his vacation seriously if he left his phone at home because his job required that he be available day and night.

“Maybe Grams and Pop got lost,” Travis offered.

I looked out the window expecting to see my parents walking along the beach toward the cottage. “It’s not like them to be gone so long. Should we take our bikes and try to find them?”

Travis agreed, but before we left the house, my cell phone rang. Even though I didn’t recognize the number, I picked it up to hear my mother’s frightened voice.

“Your father’s having chest pains. We’re at the hospital right now.”

My stomach plunged. “Is he okay?”

“I don’t know. He passed out and the doctors won’t let me see him.”

“We’ll be right there.”

“Hurry.”

“I will, Mom.”

Travis and I jumped in the car and raced to the hospital where we found my mother in the chapel, sitting on one of the wooden pews, shredding a tissue. “They just took him back to surgery,” she explained.

I hugged her. “He’s going to be okay. You know that, right?”

Travis nodded. “That’s right. Pop is the toughest. Besides, he has a job to do on Christmas Eve, and he’s not going to let those kids down.”

Nick

A
fter the terrible
marriage proposal, I couldn’t stay on the island for Christmas. I rationalized my decision to go to Dallas by telling myself it would be better for Hailey.

Fortunately, my father was thrilled we’d be at his house for the holiday. “The decorator hasn’t finished the girls’ bedrooms yet, but Hailey can at least check on the progress.”

“The decorator?” I had asked, somewhat skeptical.

“She’s Gina’s aunt, but she’s wonderful and I’ve been pleased with her vision so far. It’s not that I want you to deploy, son, but when you do, I’ll be ready for the girls.”

I’d hung up the phone, completely shocked by my father’s transformation. Maybe like Paul, people really could change.

Around noon, we reached Dallas, and I pulled into my father’s driveway. I glanced again at the cheesecake on the passenger seat beside me, embarrassed by how emotional I felt over a dessert. What had compelled Anna to make me Ivana’s cheesecake?

“There’s Grandpa Jack,” Hailey said, opening the car door.

My father helped Hailey out of the car and gave her a big hug. “I thought you’d never get here. Wait until you see the Christmas tree Gina and I bought. It’s so tall, it almost touches the ceiling.”

“Have you decorated it yet?” Hailey asked.

Jack shook his head. “No, Gina thought it would be more fun if we waited for you.”

Gina, Gina, Gina.
Who was this woman capable of changing my grouchy father into a man excited about decorating a Christmas tree? It was like she was the cocktail waitress version of Maria from
The Sound of Music.

Most of my childhood holidays had been spent skiing in Colorado. Not necessarily a bad thing, but it had meant we’d seldom decorated a tree, hung stockings, or engaged in the conventional Norman Rockwell activities of the season.

“How are you doing, son?” Jack asked.

“I’m fine.” I pulled Gabby out of her car seat. “I appreciate you letting us change plans at the last minute.”

“No problem.”

“Gina didn’t mind?”

Jack completely missed the sarcasm in my voice. “Not at all. You’ll finally get to meet her tonight.”

“I’m looking forward to it,” I said.

Inside the house, we were greeted by the smell of fresh paint and an enormous Christmas tree in the foyer.

Hailey gushed over the tree, then asked if she could see her new room.

“It’s the last door on the right,” Jack said, gesturing upstairs. “The paint should be dry, but be careful, okay?”

“Okay!” She raced up the stairs and disappeared down the hallway.

Jack noticed Gabby wiggling to get out of my arms. “Come into the family room. Gina helped me buy some toys from her cousin’s store.”

I’m sure she did.
I followed my father into the other room where Gabby squealed when she saw the brightly colored baby toys. I set her on the ground, and she speed crawled across the room.

“I knew she’d like that toy,” Jack said triumphantly.

Instead of being pleased by my father’s transformation, I resented the fact it’d taken a combination of Ethan’s death and the remarkable Gina to make my father care about his granddaughters.

As if reading my mind, he placed a hand on my shoulder. “I know I haven’t always been there for you, son. I want you to know that when your mother left me . . . well, it was devastating. It changed me. I’m afraid that in the end, it was you and Ethan who suffered the most. I deeply regret that, and I’m sorry.”

I stared in disbelief at this stranger before me. My father never spoke of anything more emotional than the fluctuations in the stock market or the Cowboys’ inability to go to the Super Bowl.

“Don’t look so shocked,” he said with a good-natured laugh. “Gina suggested I go to therapy.”

“Let me guess. Her uncle is a therapist.”

My father’s face hardened. “I know you disapprove of my fiancée, but until you meet her, don’t be judgmental. She’s a good woman, and believe it or not, a good woman can change everything.”

I believed it all right, especially given how much Anna had changed me without even trying. “Okay, so Gina sent you to therapy and—”

“I sent myself,” Jack corrected. “She encouraged it, but I made the decision to go. She told me I needed some help dealing with my problems. Until then, I’d always be running. Always be trying to replace your mother with a new woman to prove her leaving hadn’t shattered me.”

My pulse pounded hard as it always did at the mention of my elusive mother. I’d always wanted to know about her, but my father had forbidden us to talk about her.

“So, you’ve been paying to talk about your emotional problems with a counselor?” I asked, trying to keep the skepticism out of my voice.

“I have.”

My phone rang with a call from a number I didn’t recognize.

“Do you need to get that?”

Although half tempted to answer the call in order to escape the intense conversation with my father, I shook my head and let it go to voice mail. “So, has therapy helped?”

His face broke into a genuine smile. “Yes. It’s helped tremendously. I was skeptical at first, but I’m glad I did it.”

I studied my father carefully, wanting to ask the question Ethan and the nannies always said was best left unanswered. Before I could find the words, however, Hailey raced into the living room.

“Oh, Grandpa! I love my new room. Thank you, thank you, thank you!” She leapt into Jack’s arms and squeezed him tight.

My father’s eyes grew moist as he gave Hailey a huge hug. “I’m so happy you like it. Wait until your new canopy bed arrives.”

Anna

During my father’s
surgery, Travis and I prayed with my mom.
He’s in your hands, Lord. We know nothing can happen that isn’t in your divine will, but please protect my father. Please let him make it.

Marcus’s parents and sisters came to the hospital to pray, offer support, and wait. My mother and I took comfort in Jillian’s explanation that the surgery to insert a stent in my father was minor compared to open-heart surgery. Still, I yearned to call Nick and be comforted by his voice. I resisted, however, knowing reaching out to him would only delay the pain of our ultimate breakup.

At one point, Luella made a coffee run. I tried to drink the latte she brought back for me, but I couldn’t stomach the bitter taste. I felt nauseous from a combination of worry, too much cookie dough, and heartbreak.

After several hours, the surgeon finally came into the waiting room to announce everything had gone well. My father was expected to make a full recovery. Travis asked if Pop would be able to play Santa on Christmas Eve, but the surgeon shook his head.

I placed a hand on my son’s shoulder. “What’s important is he’ll be able to do it next year.”

Luella and Walter took Travis to their house, telling me he could stay for as long as needed. Both my mom and I stayed at the hospital as my father slept off and on all day. In the evening, I convinced my mom to go home, take a shower, and lie down for a few minutes.

As I sat in the chair next to my father’s bed, I thanked God for sparing his life. I wasn’t ready to let him go, not that I’d been ready to let Marcus go. Still, I was grateful for God’s mercy today.

My father’s eyes flickered. “I need some water,” he said, his voice rough and gravelly.

“Of course.” I stood and poured a glass of water from the pitcher on the table beside the bed. Holding his head, I helped him take several sips. “Are you okay, Dad? Can I get you anything?”

He flopped against the pillows and heaved a great sigh. “I’m fine, honey, but . . . did I die? Am I in heaven?”

“No.” Dread coursed through my veins. Had the anesthesia affected his brain? “You’re at the hospital on Rose Island. Don’t you remember? Mom just left, but you woke up and talked to her after the surgery. You told her not to worry.”

My father captured my hand and gave a mischievous smile. “Calm down. I thought I was in heaven because of this angel at my bedside.”

I laughed with relief, and had it not been for the IV in his arm, I would’ve given him a playful punch. “You’re so corny.”

He smiled. “How’s your mother doing?”

“Good. She ran to the house, but she’ll be back soon. She’s worried sick about you.”

“She worries about me too much.”

“Well, why are you giving her something to worry about?”

“Touché.” He closed his eyes and rested for a minute. I hated how old and frail he looked. Did the nurses and doctors realize he wasn’t some random man off the street? Did they understand he was a highly decorated soldier who could run faster and do more push-ups than most men half his age?

“I need you to do me a favor,” he said, his voice wobbly.

“Of course. Anything.”

He shifted in the bed uncomfortably. For a man who thrived on physical activity, the hospital stay and recovery would challenge him. “I have something for your mom at the jewelry store on Market Street. It’ll be ready Christmas Eve. Will you pick it up for me? Have it gift wrapped so I can give it to her Christmas morning?”

I stared at my father incredulously. “Mom’s Christmas gift is the first thing you’re worried about after surgery?”

He smiled. “Your mother’s put up with a lot. There’s nothing more important than making sure she’s taken care of on Christmas morning.”

I agreed to my father’s request, thinking he had to be the most romantic and honorable man in the world.

“Good. Now, all I have to do is find Santa’s replacement.”

“Don’t worry about that, Dad. Just get better, okay?”

“Okay.” He closed his eyes for a moment, and I thought he was going back to sleep, but he surprised me by speaking. “I finally met this Captain Nick Peterson my grandson is obsessed with.”

I nodded. “Travis told me you spoke to him and the girls this morning.”

“We did. What’s the status of your relationship with this man?”

I shook my head and gave a sad smile. My father may have been recovering from major surgery, but his army speak was still in place. “My relationship status with this man is classified.”

He placed an unsteady hand on his chest. “My daughter, the comedian.”

“I care about him,” I admitted, “but it’s not going to work out. We’re too different. We don’t want the same things out of life, and he’s—”

“He’s a soldier like your old man, and you hated being an army brat. You pouted every time we moved and—”

“He’s a soldier like Marcus. I was an army wife for almost four years, Dad, remember? I don’t want to do that again.”

My father winced. “Of course. Forgive me, sweetheart. I wasn’t thinking.”

I clasped his calloused and knobby hand. “It’s okay.”

“Marcus was a good boy. Your mother and I think about him every day.”

“I do, too.” I blinked hard and sighed. “Nick asked me to marry him and move to Germany, but I don’t know.”

My father’s brow lifted. “You don’t love him like that?”

I shook my head, wanting to deny my feelings for Nick. Wanting to tell my father I didn’t love him at all, but that wasn’t true. “After Marcus died, it took me a long time to feel safe. How can I give up life on the island for Nick?”

“You gave up flying for Marcus,” my dad said flatly.

“What? That’s not true.”

“No? After he died, you stopped living your dream.”

My father didn’t know what he was talking about. “I gave up flying for Travis. I didn’t think it was responsible to fly when I had a son to raise.”