Chapter 8
“Darling…,” she began when he shook his head.
“No. Nothing you can ever say to me is going to make a difference. Is going to make it better.” He was cold or perhaps it was the wet clothing he was wearing, or it could be the emptiness he felt inside his heart. He couldn’t tell. “She knows most of what I went through. Some of it I cannot say out loud.” His mouth twisted bitterly.
“Like when we went fishing in the winter and he told me to jump into the water to retrieve the net. And when he taunted me, saying that I need to ‘man up’. That’s what he said. ‘Man, up boy, you’re too weak. Sink or swim, your choice.’” His face was cold and closed off.
“I was freezing and thought this was the time he would go too far, and I was going to die. I was bloody thirteen.” His eyes flashed. “I was as sick as a dog after that, and you told me everything was going to be fine. It never was. You lied.”
Madelyn felt as if a terrible weight was pressing down on her chest, and she could not get it off.
“I need to tell you something.”
“It’s too late for stories, I’m afraid.”
“Please.” She held out a hand beseechingly. “Just hear me out.”
He nodded, reaching out a hand for Shep as the dog wandered in. His fingers sank into the silky coat, causing the animal to whimper and simply curl up at his feet.
Madelyn eyed the animal for a second before pursing her lips and taking a deep breath. What she had to say wasn’t easy, but it had to be told.
“Your father was part of a twin.”
“That’s not news. I heard some whispers of it when I was growing up.”
“Yes.” She pressed her lips together and forced herself to go back to a past she had deliberately put aside, because it was too painful.
“But you don’t know everything.” She stared sightlessly at her tightly clasped hands and felt the pressure on her chest increasing. “His name was Harry. We named you after him. He was older than Richard by five minutes and they were so close, not even air could get in between them.
They were so close; they finished each other’s sentences, and they did everything together.” She fought back the tears threatening. It was not time for that. Somehow, she had to get through to her son.
“We grew up together and Harry…” She swallowed the painful lump that had formed inside her throat. “He was gentle, sweet, and loving. He balanced his more aggressive brother, was the only one who could calm him down.
And Harry loved him to pieces. Loved him more than anyone in the world. They were both in love with me, but I was in love with Harry.
I thought I was drawn to his sweetness- the loving quality and the way he had of putting himself last. And his sense of humor. He had the ability to drawn you out of any depression you were going through.” She took a breath. “Richard loved him so much that he was willing to lose gracefully and let us be together. We became a unit.
We were seventeen when tragedy struck.” She could not sit still anymore. Rising almost unsteadily, she walked over to the cabinet and carefully chose a glass. Pouring the amber liquor into it, she took a fortifying sip, before coming to take her seat.
“Then tragedy struck. Harry decided to take the boat out that summer afternoon. I had gone into town with friends and Richard was out doing some errands. There was a freak storm, one of those that strikes without warning.
A darkening of the sky and before you know it, you had to run for cover. I recalled rushing into a storm with my friends and complaining that I had just got my hair styled and now it was ruined.” She took another sip of the drink and stared off into the fireplace, her brow knitted, a faraway look on her face.
“No one knew that Harry was out. We all assumed he was with Richard. Until Richard returned home in the night. He too had been caught in the storm and had to take shelter. I was home when I received the call. They thought he was with me and when the hours had passed, we got concerned.”
She pressed her lips together as the anguish of that day swept over her. “The coastguards found the boat and his body washed several miles away. He was an excellent swimmer, but he was not proof against the waves. He drowned and that day marked the last time any of us were ever happy again.”
She took another sip of the drink. “Richard took it the hardest. He had to go to therapy. He had lost his soul, his heart, that was what his brother had been to him. And it changed him for the worse. We got married because of the closeness we felt to Harry, but it was a bad idea.
We both lived with the knowledge that Harry was my first love, and he was my only love. Yes, I loved your dad in my own way, but never like I did his brother and we both knew it.” She took another sip of the liquor and stared as if in surprise that it was still in her hand.
Looking over at her son, who had remained silent during the revelation, she searched his face for some sort of clue that he understood.
“You married him as a consolation prize, and I bore the brunt of it.”
She blanched at that and slowly nodded.
“Great.” He got up so suddenly that it had Shep lifting his head and watching warily. “Now what, Mother? You want me to forgive and forget and move on?”
Putting away the glass, she clasped her hands together. “I want to stop you from making the biggest mistake of your life. I want to tell you – assure you that you are not him. You are a different person, darling.
Go to her. Be there for her. She is carrying two babies and that has to be the most terrifying thing for a woman.” She gave him a pleading look. “Go to her, Harry, stand up to your responsibility.”
He wandered over to the window and felt despair covering him. “I have failed her.” He shrugged jerkily. “Yes, I transferred some money to her, and she told me was going to return it. I anticipated that and made it so she could not return it.
I feel guilty as hell and have been justifying my actions by saying that I never wanted this in the first place. That I would never be a good father. Not by a long shot.” He turned to face her, and she felt the regret trembling through her at the bleak look on his face.
She had a part to play in all of this. She had stood by and allowed her husband to get away with a little less than murder, because of her own guilt. She loved his brother first and that had never changed over the years.
She had made a mistake in marrying Richard and her son had paid the awful price, was still paying it.
“Go to her darling. She needs you.”
*****
She had not changed the code, and he could let himself in, without triggering the alarm. She wasn’t in the living room and the kitchen was empty. Making his way up the stairs, he found her door partially open, but she wasn’t in bed.
The light filtering through the bathroom told him that she was in that room. Shrugging out of his jacket, he paced a little and wondered if he should see what’s going on. Davenport had told him that she wasn’t feeling well.
Firming his lips, he strode towards the door and pushed it open. His heart slammed against his ribs, and he covered the rest of the space on a dead run. She was curled up on the floor in a tight ball.
“Janelle. Baby.” Scooping her into his arms, he took her into the bedroom and placed her on the bed.
“You’re here.” She whispered. “I thought I was dreaming.”
“What’s wrong?” He was checking for bruises and broken bones.
“I was sick.” She lifted a hand to touch his face. “You need a shave.”
“I will get right on that. You were sick as in? Should we get you to a hospital?”
“No.” She shook her head. “Just vomiting. Thought the nausea was behind me.” She closed her eyes. “This one was very bad. I feel empty.” He was alarmed to see tears trickling down her cheeks.
“Baby, are you hurting?”
“Just tired. I just want to sleep.”
“I’m going to get you some tea.”
“Don’t leave me,” she clutched his arm.
“I’m not” He touched her hand gently, careful to hide his alarm at how fragile she looked.
I am just getting you a bit of tea. With honey, just the way you like it.” He peeled her fingers off slowly. “I promise it’s not going to take long. Okay?”
She nodded and settled back on the pillows and closed her eyes. He watched her for a moment, before striding from the room. Waiting until he had put the kettle on, he dragged out her phone and punched in a number.
“Darling, are you okay?”
Michael had naturally assumed it was Janelle’s phone.
“This is Harry.” His voice was terse as he picked out a box of herbal tea and searched for a cup. “She is not looking too hot. What’s the name of her OB?”
“You are finally there.” The voice sounded resentful and full of attitude.
“Look, we don’t like each other, and you’re pissed, so am I. But right now, I’m thinking of her. Only her. I need the name of her doctor, and I need it bloody now.”
There was a slight pause before Michael responded. “It should be under the name: Dr. Reed. She switched doctors just after she found out she was pregnant with twins. Apparently the good doctor is an expert when it comes to multiple births.”
“Good. Thanks.”
“How is she?”
“Not well. She looks like she is on the verge of disappearing. I have to go.” He hung up and turned off the stove. He made the tea, before searching for the contact. A glance at the clock told him that it was almost nine, but he did not give a damn.
He called the number and waited for it to be connected. It took a few minutes which had him stamping his foot impatiently. “Dr. Reed?” He asked tersely when the woman answered.
“My name is Harry McGibbon. You might recognize Janelle’s number. I am her…,” he floundered a little bit as he wondered what the appropriate term was. “She is my girlfriend and she’s not doing so well. She was violently ill a few minutes before and she’s – her pulse is a little weak. I’m assuming you make house calls.”
“Harry McGibbon?”
“Yes.” He clipped.
“The Harry McGibbon?” He stopped in the middle of adding honey and felt his impatience increasing.
“Does it matter a hell of a lot? Can you come or not?”
“Yes, sir. Of course. I apologize. I will be right there.”
“Good.” He hung up and placing the steaming tea on a tray, made his way out of the room and upstairs.
She was still sleeping, and he knew he had to get her up.
Placing the tray onto the side table, he sat on the edge of the bed and shook her gently.
“Hey baby.” Her eyes flickered open.
“Bobby. My Bobby. You’re here.”
“Yes. I called the doctor, and she is on her way. I want you to drink this. I made tea.” He tugged her into his arms and was alarmed at how hot she was.
“Here baby. Careful, it’s hot.”
She was so weak. He had to hold the cup for her, but he was gratified to see that she was taking sips.
“Good. That’s good. Take more sweetheart.” He held the cup when she pushed it aside. And kept it up until she had finished the cup.
“How do you feel?”
“Hungry.” She whispered, leaning back against his chest. “How comes you’re here?”
“I just wanted to check in on my girl. Is that a problem?” He smoothed the tendrils of hairs clinging to her moist forehead.
“Are you…?” She shook her head. “Never mind.”
Tucking her fingers beneath her chin, he forced her to look at him. “I am bloody sorry. I have been an ass, and I cannot expect you to forgive me…,” her phone which he had put in his pocket beeped just then.
“That’s the doctor.” Kissing her on the forehead, he put her back on the pillows.
“Dr. Reed?”
“Yes.”
“How…?”
The woman was about the same age as him and Janelle and she stared at him as if he was the second coming. She was sleek and had obviously slapped on makeup for the visit. Her thick blonde hair was brushed back from her face and her green eyes were alive with interest.
“Dr. Reed.” His voice was terse and clipped, making it clear that it was just business. “Thanks for coming at such short notice. Let me take your jacket.” He slung it carelessly on the coat tree just inside the hallway.
“It’s my pleasure. I had no idea that you are the father.”
“Why should you? This way.” He allowed her to precede him as they made their way up the stairs.
“Janelle is such a model patient.” She began as they ascended the stairs. “And expecting twins at that. You must be so excited.”
He merely grunted in response as he reached the bedroom and pushed the door open.
Charlotte felt a twinge of envy as the gorgeous face softened as soon as he stepped into the room and his eyes touched on the woman on the bed.
“Baby, the doctor is here.”
“Charlotte, it is so good of you to come. I am sure Bobby was just overly concerned. I was nauseous, which is to be expected.”
“You were on the floor.” He sat on the side of the bed, with one hand brushing her cheek. “I will be right over here on the sofa.” He rose and gave the doctor a cool glance from laser blue eyes. “I’ll leave you to it then.”
Ignoring the clutching inside her chest at the man lounging on the sofa, Charlotte sat on the side of the bed and smiled at Janelle.
“You should have called.”
“I thought I could manage things,” Janelle said wryly, “I guess not.”
They both looked over when his phone rang.
“I have to take this. Carry on.” He told the doctor curtly as he rose gracefully. “I’ll just be outside,” His expression softened as his gaze swung to Janelle. “Okay?”
She nodded and they watched him leave the room.
Charlotte blew out a breath. “That man is utterly gorgeous and does not like me.”
Janelle smiled wryly. “He doesn’t like a lot of people. And he’s…” she lifted a shoulder. “It’s complicated.”
“You and Harry McGibbon. You never said anything.” Charlotte made quick work of taking her vitals. “Your pulse is a little below and your blood pressure is a little high. Your iron is also low.”
“What’s the good news?” Janelle asked weakly.
“The babies are strong.” The doctor smiled at her. “Heartbeats strong. I am going to prescribe some iron for you and something to take care of the nausea, which shouldn’t be plaguing you with such intensity. What have you been eating?”
“Everything.” Janelle told her with a laugh. “I tried out smoked salmon this evening and some sweet potatoes and topped it off with chocolate chip ice cream and pickles.” She laughed more when the doctor wrinkled her pert nose.
“Sounds dreadful, I know.”
Harry came back in just then, his laser blue gaze touching on her, before going to the doctor. “What’s wrong with her?”
Steeling herself to meet those eyes, she laid it out in crisp professional tones. The man was scary as hell. And all those stories about him, the brawls and the reckless nature were not exaggerated.
“I am assuming you fixed it.”
“She did a wonderful job and took time out of her busy schedule to come here.” Janelle’s eyes begged him to be civil.
“Thanks.” He nodded curtly. “I’ll be taking care of her bills from now on.” Digging out a business card, he walked over to hand it to Charlotte.
“Send the email to mine plus her appointments. I want to know everything.” He sat at head of the bed and searched her face. “You look a hell of a lot better.” His hand wandered over her face and he seemed to have forgotten the doctor’s existence.
“I could eat a cow,” she admitted.
“It’s late but I could cook you something. What are you in the mood for?”
She eyed him so dubiously that he grinned at her. “You know I have mad culinary skills.”
“That’s yet to be decided.” She turned to look at the doctor and caught the wonder on her face. “You should see Charlotte out.”
“Yeah.” Bending, he kissed her on the lips before rising. “I’ll be back. Shall we?” He inclined his head towards the door and waited while the two women said their goodbyes.
They descended the stairs in silence, until they reached the front door. “Have you told me everything?” He asked abruptly as he handed her the jacket.
“Of course. I’m always up front and honest with my patients.” She turned at the door. “I am happy she has your support.” She could have bitten off her tongue at the look on the gorgeous face. “I meant she came in with Michael…?”
“Thanks for coming.”
He brushed by her to open the door, and she stood there. “Mr. McGibbon, I might not be what you expected, but I am a very good doctor and Janelle, and I have a particularly good rapport. I am familiar with her history and am available to her any time day or night.”
“More so now that you know who she’s involved with?” His cynicism made her cringe.
“Even before.”
“Good to know. Good night, doc.” He waited until she walked down to her vehicle before closing the door and locking it.
He went into the kitchen to survey the pantry, gratified to see it fully stocked. Pulling out his phone, he called her. “Hey.”
“Hey. Where are you?”
“In the kitchen.” He stared at a can of soup and decided to add some vegetables to the mix. “How about soup?”
“You are seriously going to cook?”
“Why would I say I am? Well? Soup? Or a sandwich?”
“Both.”
His relief was palpable when she said that. It meant she was feeling a whole lot better.
“I promise I won’t accuse you of being a glutton.”
“I happen to be eating for three.”
He felt a jolt at the reminder of their situation which he was going to have to deal with. “Right. How are you feeling?”
“Better.”
“Good. Let me get on with it then. I won’t be long.”
“Take your time.”
He hung up and stood there staring at the contents of the pantry. The story that his mother had told him was pushed away for the moment. He couldn’t concentrate on the negative right now. Even though he was here, he had the strongest urge to turn tail and run.
“I’m not doing that,” he muttered as he took out the necessary items.
*****
“This is so damn good.”
His eyes twinkled as he watched her scrape the bowl. “Happy to be of service.”
“You’re not eating.”
“It’s almost eleven at night.”
“So?”
He came over and took the tray away. “So, I cannot afford the extra pound.” He slapped a hand on his flat stomach and had her rolling her eyes.
“That doctor.”
“What about her?”
He arranged his long frame next to her on the bed. “Where did you find her?”
“At the clinic where I went to get a checkup. Why?”
“She was hitting on me.”
She hid a smile at the expression on his face. “Did you hit back?”
He merely stared at her.
“Then there’s no problem.”
“You don’t mind that she was?”
She turned to face him, studying the gorgeous face and the wildly beautiful eyes. There was a day’s stubble on his face and his hair was finger combed back into a careless ponytail. “I would be surprised if she didn’t. You are a beautiful man.”
“Watch it.” He growled. “How are you really?”
“Much better.” She placed a hand on his chest. “Ready to talk?”