Into His Keeping (24 page)

If he was one of those, even if it was only this
one
time, he’d senselessly used up his family’s future for a few short moments of possessive gratification. It made him no better than the male garbage who destroyed their families for drugs, gambling, whatever the addiction was they couldn’t resist. Jill was his addiction, he knew that. It had been his responsibility to protect her, even from himself. Perhaps mostly from himself.

He’d thought he’d endured pain in the past, it was nothing. Beyond the personal guilt was the knowledge that he was helpless to protect her, help her through tomorrow. That was agony on a new level. It cut him to the bone, denying his nature on every level. There wasn’t even the meager comfort that he was doing something. When she’d been lost, he’d at least been able to “do something” to help her find him.

He’d always been certain Jill was in the world. That she was part of the human fabric flowing around the globe, he’d felt it instinctively. Believed she was here, somewhere, because he had no other choice. And he’d been right. Tomorrow could possibly bring a new reality, one he didn’t know if he could deal with.

Holdin squeezed his eyes shut and willed the fates to smile on him one time. He’d make any deal they required, sacrifice at any altar they directed. Nothing was sacred except the life of this one woman and her son. He believed in the Christian God, but he knew there were forces in this world he didn’t understand.

Superstition was a part of every professional athlete. They saw to clearly that talent and desire were not enough to make a champion. Luck, fate, kismet, whatever one called it, was the fickle bitch who played with them. Perhaps the ancients had been right in the practice of worshipping many gods. Who knew?

* * * * *

Holdin and Drifter were in Jill’s room by six a.m. Surgery was scheduled for eight-thirty and preparations were underway. A patch of her hair had been shaved and the rest pinned out of the way. A skullcap was fitted over her to secure it. The opening for surgery was neatly cut out of it. She was silent as the technicians worked around her. Jill’s only demand had been that they let her hold Drifter’s hand as long as possible. Holdin stood against the wall watching as the nurse reached around her neck to remove Jill’s necklace.

“I’ll take care of that.” Holdin stopped her as he went to Jill’s side. The nurse stopped in surprise and nodded, moving aside as Holdin bent over Jill.

Looking up at him as he reached around her neck for the clasp, Jill bit her lip. Her free hand rose as if to hold the charm on.

“Shhhhh, baby girl,” Holdin soothed while smiling into her eyes. “I’ll keep this for now.” The gold was warm with her life energy as his hand closed over it. Jill gulped in a hitching breath. “It’ll be waiting when you come back,” Holdin assured her.

At those words, Jill glanced away for a second, the uncertainty of her returning clouded pretty brown eyes as she met his again. “Thank you.”

Holdin slipped the necklace in his pocket. With the crowd of strangers in the room, Holdin couldn’t say what he needed to. The words to take that cloud from her eyes escaped him as he desperately searched for them. And then someone was asking him to step aside so they could continue.

Her smile trembled as he backed up. Their gazes clung to each other for that moment and then it was gone.

Jill’s attention focused on her son. As she should be. Yet Holdin felt a ragged stab of loss and the need for some commitment from her that she’d be back. That she believed it. She had to believe it for it to happen. He stood there and watched her be brave and couldn’t find a way to help her.

Control was once again Holdin’s battle as he contained the need to tell her that she was his. Nothing would ever change that. No power in heaven or earth could touch it. Nor could it change the fact that she was her baby’s mama. But he remained silent. He had no promises to offer, no assurance, nothing that could alter the battle she had to fight alone.

Watching them prepare her for surgery was a drawn-out lesson in what it was possible to endure. This time he knew what was taking her and still had to stand back and let it happen. Help them if he could. Helpless rage boiled in the pit of his stomach. Raw and senseless, it urged him to snatch up the woman who was his and leave this place.

What was the use of being rich and influential if he couldn’t use it to fix things for the people he loved? Wasn’t that what rich men did? They bought, they bribed, they blackmailed the world to bend it to their will. He’d failed, even on that callous level he’d failed.

In a hospital room, no one had status. It was the great equalizer. Rich or poor, brilliant or barely finished grade school didn’t matter. In this building, every family had to stand by helplessly and pray when the gurney was wheeled away. There was no mercy to be purchased when that small group of orderlies and nurses disappeared.

Watching her vanish out the door took every ounce of willpower he possessed to hold back a bellow of denial. He wanted to charge them and beat the malevolent men to a pulp for trying to take her. Gritting his teeth, he actually visualized squeezing the life out of each one with his bare hands around the white-collared necks.

Holdin glanced at Drifter and noticed a slight tremble in the boy’s stiff-legged stance as the door shut behind the rolling bed. The space between them where her bed had been was now empty. The absence of a bed in the hospital room suddenly became unbearable and both of them avoided looking at the space. In fact, Drifter remained facing the door. His breathing had picked up as he glared at it.

The tall young man’s hands were fisted at his sides and Holdin recognized the struggle for control in his son. Again Holdin was helpless. There were no words that fixed watching one’s mother being wheeled off by white-clad orderlies. It was a stark reality that could not be soothed and he wasn’t about to insult the boy by pretending it could. Holdin reached a hand toward his son’s back, unsure what he’d been about to say when the door opened again and a smiling student nurse invited them to follow her.

Holdin and Drifter were ushered into the surgery waiting room where Carol and Charles were already present. Drifter sat beside Carol and smiled weakly at her as she took his hand. Charles was standing with his back to the window and Holdin joined him.

“So she went?” Charles asked. It was a pointless question whose real purpose was to fill the silence.

“Yeah.” Holdin nodded. “Shouldn’t be too long. Just in and out then an hour in recovery.” Everyone knew the schedule. Holdin needed to repeat it for himself mostly. Two hours, that’s all it should take. Three hours on the outside because he hadn’t taken into account prep time right before surgery, so four was probably realistic. He knew he was stretching it, trying to force every eventuality into the “okay” slot.

She had to be okay. He’d refused to think of what happened if she wasn’t. For Drifter he’d acted as if he’d considered it and had a plan, but within himself he hadn’t. Having Jill back was too big, to consuming, to allow her to leave again. If it happened, he’d deal with it. Hopefully gracefully, but he didn’t hold out much hope for that.

It was a good thing his mom and dad were here and that was just sad. It felt like a failing that he needed them to ensure he behaved if the news was bad. He needed them for Drifter, not himself.

They were insurance that someone present would be sane enough to help his son. He had little faith for himself in that situation. At least he was honest enough to face his failing. He’d been in love with Jill too long, too hard. He’d seen himself when he lost her the last time. This time would be worse.

They were all silent as the minutes ticked by. There was nothing to say. Everything seemed trivial. Holdin couldn’t sit, he couldn’t pace. He simply stood and stared at the door. In the background, he heard Carol try to distract Drifter with a drink of soda or something to eat. Charles went to sit with them. Holdin’s eyes moved to the family unit and he knew it was his job to join them.

So long he’d been alone with Jill. That was a strange way to put it but there it was. He’d mourned her alone, missed her alone. He’d never been strong enough to share her memory. Not with his parents and certainly not with anyone else. She’d driven him to be the man he was and yet it’d just been the two of them in his mind.

She’d spent the last fifteen years without him, completely. He’d spent them with her. Only her.

Including Drifter in their relationship was something he’d not realized would be so difficult. Even when he’d grasped the fact that he had a son, it’d not occurred that he’d have to share this most intimate part of himself with his son. His pain had been his alone. Now it was selfish to hold it in. Suddenly he recognized that Drifter felt the same way.

Drifter had never had to share his mother. Their relationship had been uncommonly closed in a way that could not be opened by anyone other than his biological father. Even if Jill dated, Drifter didn’t have to share her as he would have to with Holdin. Of course the boy was not enthusiastic. How could he be? Holdin represented a threat, someone who could take his mother’s attention from him. In a child’s mind, attention equaled the level of love they received.

Holdin slowly walked over and sat down across from Drifter and Carol. Leaning forward he scrubbed his hands down his face, consciously relaxing, letting his face show at least some of his emotions. The boy needed to see it in him. To know they shared this pain, regardless of what it cost Holdin to do it. Bent with elbows on knees, Holdin faced his son. Even his sitting position was an effort to convey their equality in this moment.

“Neither one of us is very good at sharing her,” he started quietly.

Drifter regarded Holdin blankly for a moment. “What?”

“I shared a little with you in the hotel room. Telling you what your mother meant to me all these years. I’d never told anyone that.” Holdin straightened in the chair but scooted down so his butt was on the edge of the chair, stretching long legs out in front of him, remaining at eye level with Drifter. “But I didn’t get what it would mean for you to share her with me. I doubt either of us really got it. She’s been mine all this time, if only in my mind, but still, just mine. Our connection was so strong, so deep, it didn’t fade with time. Her loving you is an elemental connection of a mother with her baby. I know you’re not a baby anymore. But you will be her baby forever.” Holdin’s eyes flicked to his mother beside Drifter. “Come to terms with it, son, we both have strong women for mothers.”

Drifter grinned and glanced at his grandmother too.

“He’s right,” Carol agreed. “I don’t care how big he gets,” she nodded toward Holdin, “he’s still my baby and he’d do well to remember it.”

“Yes, ma’am,” Holdin confirmed, chuckling. “See what I mean?”

“Yeah. So?” Drifter regarded Holdin with the bored expression again. Holdin knew it was a defense. Passive aggressive, it was one of the few tools Drifter had to deal with this situation.

“So I’m saying, the way I love your mother might be something both of us have to adjust to. You’re not used to having a father and it never occurred to me that I have a son. We have to share her in ways neither one of us expected. Even if she’d married someone else, that man would not have the connection she and I have. Not with regard to you. I get it that you’re enough like me to resist sharing her with me. I’m sorry it’s difficult. It shouldn’t be. But what we should have had isn’t important. Right now is the only thing we have to work with. We’ve got some time to kill. Getting to know each other would be a good way to spend it. Can you meet me halfway and do that? I’d really like to hear how you know so much about fixing a car.”

“You just figure out that there’s no getting rid of me so now you want to know me?” Drifter asked in disdain.

“No. I wanted to be sure you understood that you aren’t getting rid of me. I want to know you because you’re my son. I’m trying to make it easier for you by explaining how similar we are. Your reactions to me are ones I’d have if I were in your position.”

“You sure talk a lot when you’re trying to make a point,” Drifter observed. Silence stretched out after his statement.

“Well?”

Drifter’s face twisted in a bitter grimace. “You do know it was Mom who insisted we go find you? I did it because she needed to.” Drifter glanced at his grandmother and Charles, who’d sat down on the other side of Carol as he tried to soften his resentment for his grandparents. “Not saying it was a bad idea.” Then his gaze returned to Holdin and all softness disappeared. “But I figured the chances of you being that interested in me were low. It was never about you and her.” Drifter slid a little farther down in his chair and glared at Holdin belligerently.