Chapter 19
19
Without needing to look up, Dana traipsed the path to the train that would take her into the city. Her feet moved automatically through her home airport while her mind replayed the flight. How had she made such a mistake? He used her. Oh, the things she wanted to say. It didn’t matter—she never needed to see McKay Worth again. No long-distance relationship would work out.
As she walked, her phone buzzed and pinged as messages, texts, and emails downloaded now that she was no longer in airplane mode. None from McKay apologizing. Of course, they never traded contact information… Just as well. However, there was one from her father.
Dad: Hey, I know you just flew in but can you come spend the rest of the weekend with me?
Dana: I would love to. I just landed, so I’ll go home, repack and drive on over.
Dad: You don’t need to come tonight. But I have an event tomorrow. I would be honored if you could attend.
Dana: What?
Dad: I’m being inducted into the National Blood Donation Hall of Fame.
Dana read the words again. Was there such a thing?
Dana: Interesting. Like Basketball Hall of Fame?
Dad: I’ll explain when you get here.
Talking with her father would be better than talking with her friends. Brit and Simone would have way too many opinions and way too many questions.
Dana: I’ll be there in a couple of hours. I slept on the plane.
Not a lie. She had fallen asleep at some point. Only to dream of the man sitting next to her.
Dad: See you soon then.
Dana boarded the train and reviewed the rest of her messages. None of them were urgent. Candace had left instructions about shipping anything Dana needed to the Indiana residence. Most of Dana’s personal items sat in boxes in her father’s garage. She kept only necessities in her apartment in the Ogilvie penthouse. With Candace and Colin’s decision to have the children move to go to school in Indiana, she packed up her possessions before she left for the cruise. Those had been labeled and should’ve already been taken by the movers to Indiana.
Knowing there would still be frequent trips to Chicago, she left a skeleton wardrobe at the Chicago penthouse. She dropped of her suitcases and throwing a few necessities and her dad’s gift into another bag.
She sent off a text to Brit and Simone, letting them know she was going to her father’s, since they were expecting her to crash with them for the next couple of days until she needed to drive down to the Ogilvie’s.
The only messages from Hastings Security were the automated reminders about hours, substitutions, and PTO.
As promised, she arrived at her father’s house only one and a half hours after leaving the airport, a new record. Had McKay made it home? How was his mother doing? She’d never know now.
She parked in the driveway next to Dad’s cruiser. Which was probably the best crime deterrent in the neighborhood. The house her grandparents had lived in most of their lives was still well-maintained. But age and lack of multiple bathrooms had relegated the home to a declining neighborhood. Crime on her father’s street remained low.
Her father met her in the driveway.
“Were you watching for me?”
“Nah, I was hoping for the pizza delivery guy to show up with a complimentary pie.” Dad pulled her into a hug. “How’s Chey?”
“Better than expected.”
“Give her a hug from me.”
“I thought I texted that she stayed in England.”
“You did.” He took the duffle from her hand and walked her into the house. Leather and a large television replaced the lace doilies and faded prints favored by her grandmother, now living in Florida. But some things never changed. The smell of oregano and garlic filled the air.
“Manicotti?” The familiar scent wrapped around her like a hug. Dana set her backpack down and rushed into the kitchen.
“I figured after two weeks with your mother you could use some comfort food.”
“Dad, you are the best.” She opened the cupboard and pulled out the old melamine plates. Traces of her grandparents, her father hadn’t found cause to replace. “Tell me more about this hall of fame?”
“Apparently there is a National Blood Donation Hall of Fame and I got nominated and accepted.”
“For all the blood drives you help with?” It seemed every time she called he was volunteering at another event.
“That and the fact I’ve donated over ten gallons of whole blood.”
Dana paused to stare at her dad. “In vampire math, exactly how much is that? A full course meal with twenty guests?”
Dad set the pan on the trivet and laughed so hard he backed away from the table, holding his side. “I don’t think they use vampire math to calculate who gets donations As far as people whom it helps it depends on the need. Statistically that ten gallons would benefit 240 people. Every two seconds, someone in the United States needs a blood transfusion, yet only 3% of people donate. Cancer patients and newborn babies need blood frequently. And internationally? I have no idea. I wish there was more I could do.”
“Ten gallons still feels like so much blood.”
“It has taken me sixteen years to donate those gallons, in a way it is a lot. Yet, here are many people who have donated more than me. Especially if they calculate in plasma. But when you compare it with how much blood is needed a day, it is the proverbial drop in a bucket.”
“Pun intended?” Dana scooped a large serving of Manicotti onto her plate. The cheese stretched in long, perfect strings.
“I didn’t catch the pun.” Her dad took the serving spoon from her to dish his meal. His wink said otherwise.
“How exactly does this event work? Do you have to drive anywhere?”
“Not far. We are holding it at the blood bank with a special blood drive.”
“So instead of a rubber chicken dinner, we are back to providing a vampire banquet?”
“They’ll have sandwiches and snacks afterward. More than the normal juice and cookie.”
“You should have told me I would have asked my friends to come up.”
“You can’t donate.”
“What?” Dana’s fork hovered over her plate, dropping the bite she intended to take. The pasta landed with a soft plop.
“The drive Hasting Security had for their employees was only 50 days ago. You can’t donate until a week from Sunday.”
“Isn’t it close enough?”
Her father shook his head. “It doesn’t work like that.”
“I guess I’ll have to find someplace to donate in a week or so. I can’t not donate with my dad joining the hall of fame.”
“So, tell me about your trip.”
Dana detailed her trip through the rest of dinner, cleaning up, and moving into the living room. She carefully edited out certain details about a certain security officer. Well, as much as possible.
“I brought you a sweater and chocolate.” Dana handed her father the bag of goodies.
He set them to the side. “I’m more interested in this Mac character. Your face lights up every time you say his name.”
“Dad—” Dana sighed, not able to explain the loss that settled in her soul. “It isn’t meant to be.”
“So he put a civilian in an awkward position. No one in security would have doubted your capabilities. And if someone is selling information—” He let the implications hang in the air. “You don’t need me to spell that out for you.”
“It’s that they put me in the position to have to find Chandler and Amy-Kate. It’s that he didn’t apologize. Or trust me enough to include me. The most annoying part is that they used my skills from private security for free in a way. I deserve an apology and an explanation. If they had brought me in officially, they could have given me that. It isn’t as if the cruise line hasn’t worked with Hastings before.”
“After talking with Amy-Kate, did you ask him about it?”
“No.” Dana crossed her arms. “It all fits.”
“And?”
“I was angry.”
“That is my girl. Go big or go home. You never have done things by halves. What you put your mother through redefined ‘custody battle.’ You made it an all-out war.”
“I needed to.”
His eyes crinkled with a mixture of affection and exasperation. “Have you ever thought that you could have achieved the same result with a few conversations? I had no idea you were unhappy enough to report Sheila to CPS. You never told me half of what was going on.”
Dana raised her brows. It wasn’t the first time her father had brought up her over-the-top attitude. “I was ten. And Sheila wasn’t much of a mom.”
“I agree. Your mother treats you horribly. I’m not saying otherwise. Changing your cabin was low, even for her. However, if you actually spoke to her, the plane could have gone better. I imagine you saw her at the airport, pointed to your foot and said, ‘Don’t worry, it will be fine.’”
She shifted uncomfortably. “Something like that.”
“Sheila may have been looking for you on the plane out of concern, too. Economy tickets and a surgical boot don’t seem like a winning combo to me. She may have felt guilty. Maybe they didn’t have enough seats in the premier class. When she couldn’t find you, she would have been frantic. The fact is you never give her a chance to explain.”
Could there be another side to her mother’s actions? If so, what did that mean for McKay? “You’re saying I should actually talk to Sheila?”
“I wouldn’t recommend it for at least a month.” A wry smile crossed his face. “I know you have mostly ignored her for the past decade and a half, unless you absolutely had to talk to her. I had hoped you would have had some time to talk things out on this trip.”
“I never thought of anything but avoiding her so we didn’t upset Chey.”
Dad wrapped an arm around Dana’s shoulders. “Sheila isn’t all bad. I fell in love with her for a few reasons and yes, at eighteen we were too young.”
“I’ve heard this lecture before.”
“Apparently it hasn’t sunk in yet. And as far as the man you met—well, I thought you were smarter than to let someone go without talking about it.”
Dana bit her lip. “I don’t have his number.”
“Now there is an excuse if I’ve ever heard one. Don’t you work for Colin Ogilvie? How old was he when he hacked the Whitehouse?”
“Pentagon. I think he was twelve.”
“There you have it. Ask your boss. Easy peasy.”
“Lemon squeezy.” If only it were that easy. Colin stayed firmly planted on the ethical side of the fence and he would tell Candace, then the kids would learn of it. They were already far too concerned about her lack of dating. She could try an internet search. She had a name and a town. A yawn interrupted her thoughts.
Dad kissed the top of her head. “Off to bed with you, girl of mine.”
“Love ya.”
“Same, kid.”
“Three full-sized suitcases?” Jen moved a box to make room in the trunk of her car. “Good thing I left Gracie at a friend’s. She’d think this was all for her.”
McKay put the last suitcase in the back seat. “I guess I accumulated more stuff than I thought. And lots of it is for you, mom, and Gracie.”
Jen let a car pass before pulling out. “I’ll give you a pass then.”
“How did you keep Gracie from coming with you?”
“It wasn’t easy, but we need to talk.”
“Why?”
Jen turned the wrong direction at the next intersection.
McKay looked out the window in confusion. “I thought we were going to Mom’s.”
“Mom is in Lutheran.”
“The hospital? But her surgery isn’t until Tuesday.”
“They got her in on late Thursday.”
“Wait. When you encouraged me to stay, she was in surgery?” His mom could have passed and he wouldn’t have known. He had been blissfully playing in Lyme Regis while his mother was in recovery.
“Don’t be mad. You know Mom wouldn’t want you to pass on love so you could sit in a plastic waiting room chair.”
“I would have been better off to come home,” he grumbled. “I thought from the text you sent from Heathrow that things were going well.”
“Everything fell apart on the plane. She realized we used her skills without her knowledge to catch our person of interest.”
“And she didn’t listen to your explanation?”
“Legally, I can’t explain much. Then we ran into the woman who was a target of the sting and Dana stopped talking to me.” He stifled a yawn. “I’m so frustrated that I couldn’t explain. I know whatever she heard was just a half truth.”
Jen flipped on her blinker. “You didn’t tell me much about Dana. Is she the type of person to jump to conclusions?”
“I guess she is.” He hadn’t thought so before, but on the plane she—well it was obvious that she didn’t care to get all the facts. He yawned again.
“Didn’t you sleep on the flight?”
“I couldn’t. And we stayed up the night before walking around Bath.”
“So, neither of you had much sleep?”
“No. She was pretending to sleep and I didn’t want to sleep in case she woke up and I missed my chance to explain.” He looked up at the large hospital wondering which room his mother was in. “Enough about me. What happened with mom?”
His sister found a parking space in the visitors’ lot. “They had a cancellation, and the surgeon moved up her surgery.”
“And?”
Jen exited the car without answering.
McKay fumbled with his seatbelt. By the time he exited the car, his sister was several paces ahead of him. “Jen?”
She shook her head and walked faster. McKay ran a hand over his short hair. He could grow it out now and maybe add a beard. Why was he thinking that when his mother was in the hospital? “Jen, wait up.”
The hospital doors swooshed open. McKay finally caught up with his sister at the elevator bank. “Tell me what is going on.”
“I don’t know completely. Mom wanted to tell us what they found when we were together.” She pushed the numbered button for their mom’s floor.
They rode the elevator in silence. His sister had to know more than she was telling. Jen wouldn’t look at him. How bad was it? McKay followed his sister to the room, relieved to find his mother was not in ICU.
Still, her face was pale and pinched. She held out her hand to McKay as he entered the room. “There you are. How was your flight?”
“A bit bumpy.” Metaphorically speaking. Mom would get the details out of him at some point. “How are you?”
“If I told you ‘great,’ would you believe me?” Mother’s words came out slow and measured, negating any humor she infused into her question.
“No.”
“What if I tell you I am doing better than expected.”
“Also not reassuring.”
Mom looked at Jen. “Hard to get something past him.”
Jen crossed her arms. “You’ve kept me in suspense for two days. Telling the doctor he couldn’t communicate with me was hardly fair.”
“I don’t see it that way. You both knew the cancer had come for a return visit and that this time it was bad. The surgery is only to buy me some time and to decide if other interventions are needed. After counseling with my oncologist, I am taking one round of chemo in hopes of living through this Christmas.”
Jen gasped.
Just over six months. He needed to sit, but the chair was too far from his mother’s side. McKay reached for his mother’s hand. She took his, but her grip was less than that of a young child’s.
“I’ve been here before and done this whole cancer treatment regiment. I’ll start the treatment the week after Gracie’s trip to the park. I wanted to go and perhaps ride some of the rides without being sick. My doctor says I shouldn’t, so we will see. No promises to Gracie yet. I am going to do as much as I can in my last few months.”
McKay wanted to protest. There had to be something more that could be done. “But?—”
His mother cut him off with a look. “I got a few more years than we planned on last time. I know neither of you is ready. No one ever is. Put away those long faces. I am in no mood to lecture you or hear alternative plans.”
McKay sat in silence, a helplessness he couldn’t battle blanketed him. He’d known since he got the news that this would be the end, but until now he hadn’t felt the enormity of it.
“If you are going to stare at me like I am already gone, I’ll page the doctor and have him put the mass he removed back in. Think of this as a blessing. You know what to plan on and thanks to the fact this isn’t the first time, all my affairs are in order, so we can not be bothered by the pesky little details.”
“Why didn’t you consult with us?” asked Jen.
“Because we would have come to the same conclusion. Now if you’ll excuse me, the painkiller makes me tired. I’ll see you tomorrow and then McKay can tell me all about his new love. I want to be alert for the story.” Mom’s voice faded, while she closed her eyes as she finished speaking.
The only sound in the room was the faint beep of the heart monitor. Jen studied it as only a nurse could. She nodded and left the room. McKay followed.
In the car Jen didn’t turn on the ignition. “I suspected this, but hearing her say it. Christmas. Can you stay that long?”
“I didn’t sign a new contract which means I have as long as I want.” The last three days he’d toyed with the idea of staying on land. He’d daydreamed about settling down, having a family of his own. But in the background, his children had a grandmother. Tomorrow he would have to lie. He never lied to Mom. Well, there was that incident with the hammer and the window, but he was nine. This lie would have to be convincing.