6. Chapter 6
“Graham, where are you? He’s asking for you.” She paused. “Denise says it’s time.”
It was Memorial Day. Sunny. Good parade weather. And Jason Young Senior was dying.
Lindsey hurried back into the primary suite and set her phone on the bedside table.
“I left Graham another message,” Lindsey said, taking the dying man’s hand. “Just hold on.”
“Uh-huh,” he grunted.
“What about Jase? Can I call him for you?”
“I already tried. He must be on the road,” Denise said, adding more pain medicine to the I.V. with a syringe. “He’s in California.”
“Now? Why would he—”
“It’s all right,” Jason insisted. “Denise, dear, would you go check on Mrs. Aldridge? Old bird will probably have a heart attack and croak before I do.”
Denise glanced warily between him and Lindsey.
“Go on,” he urged. “I promise not to die until you get back.”
“I’m going to hold you to that,” Denise said, pulling out the syringe. “Just for a minute, okay?”
“Can you try Graham again?” Lindsey asked.
“Sure.”
After the nurse closed the bedroom door behind her, Jason cleared his throat.
“Listen up, I want to tell you something. It’s important.”
Lindsey leaned over the bedrail of what he called the Jetson bed. The mechanical monstrosity was one of many compromises allowing him to stay at home. Money could buy just about anything except the cure he desperately needed.
“I want you to promise me something,” Jason said.
“What is it?”
“You’re going to want to quit. Don’t.” He coughed and Lindsey helped him take a sip of water. “No matter how bad it gets, promise me you’ll stick it out until the end.”
“What do you mean?”
“My son’s an idiot,” he said gruffly. Lindsey glanced at the phone that still hadn’t rung. “And I don’t want you giving up too soon. When things are at their worst, promise me you won’t give up.”
“You should save your strength. Graham will be here any minute.”
“Never mind the boys. Promise me.” He jiggled her hand. “Humor a dying man, huh?”
“Okay.” She would’ve agreed to anything just then, with no idea how much she might regret it later. “I promise.”
“Good.” He relaxed with a garbled breath. “That’s good.”
Lindsey forced a smile. “Always full of mystery.”
His eyes closed, then snapped back open. “Theresa?”
“No, it’s Lindsey.”
It wasn’t the first time he mistook her for his deceased wife.
“Lindsey,” he sighed. “There’s one more thing, kid.”
“I’m listening.” She kissed his hand.
“Remember that I loved her before I could say it. If a man doesn’t love himself, he has a hard time loving anyone else. I almost lost her because I didn’t tell her. It isn’t always what he says. It’s what he does. Just remember, I came back.”
She nodded, an insistent tear slipping down her cheek.
He closed his eyes and gave her fingers a final squeeze. As the air left his lungs, he made sure she knew.
“I always came back.”