Forever This Time

 

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Table of Contents

About the Author

Copyright Page

 

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For Joshua and Adriana, my tiny angels

 

Acknowledgments

I have so many people to thank for their help in making this book a reality, and I'm thrilled and excited to do so:

First—and rightly so—huge thanks to my superb agent, Courtney Miller-Callihan. Thank you for your tireless work and undying support. I am a lucky, lucky gal to have found you.

To Holly Ingraham, my fabulous editor—Thank you for falling in love with Echo Lake, and for your superb guidance and keen eye. I pinch myself every day, and I'm
thrilled
to be on Team Holly!

To Lizzie Poteet—Thank you for so graciously stepping in to help when Home-team Holly became an instant foursome! I'm so lucky to get to work with you!

To my funny, generous friend, critique partner, and newly-minted Golden Heart sister, Jennifer Brodie—You are my Xanax and my Prozac and my champagne … sometimes all on the same day! Thank you … for everything.

To the Bartlett Bunnies—None of this would be as sparkly and fun without you gals to share it with! Thank you for the late nights, the hundreds of
what if
s, and way too much chocolate.

To Caroline Lyon MD, MPH, for her grace and patience in answering way too many medical questions—Thank you for your help, your friendship, and your support!

To Jennifer Carroll, PT, for
also
answering a gazillion questions regarding stroke and recovery—Huge thanks. Any errors are mine alone.

To my family, who keep me grounded, keep me (usually) sane, and teach me gorgeous lessons of love every single day—Thank you, from the depths of my heart.

Lastly, to the parents of those who got their angel wings too early—Our journeys differ, but our hearts share a hole. I am in awe of all who survive it.

 

Chapter 1

“Dad?” Josie barely heard her own voice over the beeping machinery dwarfing the ICU bed. “Oh God. Daddy?” The words were strange on her tongue as she stumbled closer. This couldn't be her father, this motionless shape under hospital blankets. This couldn't be the man who ran twenty miles a week and crowed his perfect blood pressure and BMI to anyone who'd listen.

She stared at her father's face. His skin was sallow, slack, dry as rice paper. Droplets collecting in the oxygen cannula gave the only indication that he was even alive. She felt her knees jiggle as her breath hitched, and she reached blindly for the rail beside the bed.

“Ma'am?” A sharp voice startled her from behind. “Only immediate family in here.”

Josie nodded slowly, but couldn't rip her eyes from the Dad-shaped creature on the bed. “I'm family,” she whispered—that word, too, feeling odd enough in her mouth that she didn't even attempt
immediate
. “He just doesn't know me.”

Josie felt a hand on her elbow and turned around slowly to face a rotund nurse whose perky blond ponytail tried hard to belie the age lines around her eyes.

“I'm sorry,” she whispered, then jumped as blood pressure cuffs buzzed awake and made the blanket over Dad's legs rise upward. “I'm … I'm his daughter.”

“Daughter?” The nurse's eyes were quizzical. “Goodness, I'm sorry. We didn't know.”

“You wouldn't have. I'm not really … expected.” Josie winced as she said the words.

The nurse came around to face her, putting her hand out gently. “I'm Gayle.”

“Josie.” She shook Gayle's outstretched hand.

“Do you want to sit while I check on him?”

Josie stared at the still face on the pillow, unable to open her mouth and answer. Her feet felt glued to the shiny floor, and the chair right next to her felt twenty feet away. This was the man who spent half his life ho-ho-ho-ing around the family's Christmas theme park in a Santa suit, for God's sake. He was
never
still.

She glanced up at Gayle, who was checking machines and typing information into her laptop. “So it was definitely a stroke?”

Gayle nodded, pointing to the side of her head. “Right cerebral hemorrhage.” She closed the laptop and started adjusting some tubing that looked all tangled up at the head of the bed. “I'm almost done here. I can leave you alone if you'd like to stay for a couple of minutes. You can try talking to him. He can probably hear you.”

Josie shook her head. No, talking was the last thing she wanted to do.

“You can just tell him about your day. Tell him about the weather. Doesn't matter. Just let him hear your voice.”

Josie sighed. “I'm sorry, Gayle, but honestly—if he hears my voice, he might have another stroke.”

*   *   *

Ethan sat in his desk chair checking the news, but when he'd read the same headline four times, he clicked the window closed. He tried not to stare at the empty chair across from him, but he couldn't help it. He couldn't believe Andy was in the hospital. Couldn't believe he'd had a stroke.

Couldn't believe Josie was on her way back to town.

He pushed his chair away from the desk and looked back out the window. The sparkle and glitter of Snowflake Village twinkled at him from every tree, every ride, every pathway.
Camp Ho-Ho
, Josie had always called it.
Alternate-reality center of the universe
.

For the millionth time in five years, he thought about what she would say if she saw him sitting in the CFO chair at her family's theme park, his desk parked head-to-head with her own father's. He looked down at his red polo shirt with the official snowflake logo on the breast. It was a far cry from the dress blues and military bars he'd always thought he'd be wearing by now, but a Rutland linebacker had altered that life plan with a bone-crushing tackle during the state finals eleven years ago.

Instead of a military assignment overseas, he had a permanency rating in his right knee and a job running a holiday theme park. Not exactly the life he'd envisioned, but he'd been grateful when Josie's father had offered him the CFO job after it became crystal-clear that Josie wasn't going to come back and take it.

But now she
was
coming back to Echo Lake. It had taken a life-or-death situation to get her here … but here she'd be.

He swore softly when he realized he was absently rubbing his left ring finger.

Quick footsteps on the stairway startled him, and his stomach leaped. Was she
here
? He caught a flash of flaming red hair coming around the doorway and let out a relieved breath. Not Josie, thank God. Just her old best friend.

Molly burst dramatically into the office. “You have to save me!” She flopped into Andy's empty chair, her vivid green eyes sparkling as she peered over her shoulder toward the door. “These blind dates are disasters!”

Ethan looked at her, then at the hallway, then back at her. Even to this day, he found it amusing that she and Josie had been best friends for their entire childhood. She was as vivacious as Josie was reserved, as loud as Josie was quiet.

“You being chased by a serial killer? Or an Italian?”

“B.” She fanned herself with a piece of paper. “I think I lost him at the Frosty Freeze.”

“Need me to check the security cameras?”

She sat up straighter. “Would you?”

“No, Mols, I will not. Your dating issues are your problem, not mine.”

“If you'd just marry me, I wouldn't
have
any dating issues. One more stupid lousy setup date and I'll drag you to City Hall myself, just to get Mama off my back.”

He raised his eyebrows. “As cave-girlish as that sounds, I think I'll take a pass.”

“Mama's convinced I'm going to wither up and die any day now if I don't find a husband.”

“I'm not sure it's quite that desperate yet.” Ethan tried not to smile.

“Oh, you have
no
idea. The woman's gone off the ledge.”

“What's she done now?”

Molly sighed. “Italian love match dot com.” She practically spat out the words.

“An Italian dating site?”

“Kill me now.”

He laughed. “Looks like Mama B's already got that job wrapped up.”

“I didn't even think she knew how to do more than order restaurant supplies on that stupid computer. Now she's trying to order me a freakin' husband.”

“Well, you can't blame a mom for trying.”

“Stop laughing.”

“I really can't. I'm so sorry.” He rattled his fingers on the keyboard, pretending to type. “Italian. Love. Match. Dot com, you said? Let's see. Molly Bellini.”

Her sparkly blue flip-flop hit him in the head before he had time to duck. “Can't we just
pretend
to be married or something?”

“No. Absolutely not. Your family is completely nuts. We'd have terrible children.”

“But at least we'd
have
some! I don't honestly think Mama cares if I'm married. She just wants grandbabies.”

“Sorry, Mols. You're on your own with this one. It'll take a stronger man than me to marry a Bellini.”

“You're no fun.” She looked at her watch. “Didn't we make a pact back in junior high that we'd marry each other if we hadn't found anyone else by the time we were thirty?”

“No. And we're not thirty.”

Molly got up to peer out the window. “Okay, enough about me. Let's talk about
your
dating issues.”

“Let's not.”

“Not ready to let me click save on that dating profile yet?” She winked.

“Please tell me you didn't.”

“You're right.” She sat back down in Andy's chair. “I didn't. So what's up? You have your serious face on suddenly.” She chewed her pinky nail just like Josie had done long ago when she was nervous. Funny how they'd mirrored each other's habits without even realizing they were doing it.

“Andy had a stroke last night.”

“A—what! Andy? Santa?” She shook her head. “No.”

Ethan nodded slowly. “Yeah.”