Chapter Thirty-One
CECE
Numb, CeCe leaned against the railing, the phone limp in her hand. Was Mama still talking? She wasn’t sure. The world faded in and out of focus.
Your father and three others are trapped in the dig site. They were working late. Something went wrong. We don’t know much else yet. They’ve promised to keep me posted.
Her mother’s words still pounded in her ears, increasing the pressure between her temples. Her father would be okay. He had to be okay.
She scrunched her hot, tender eyes shut, hoping for relief.
Jayce took the phone from her hand. “Durene, we’re on our way.”
CeCe’s eyes fluttered open. What did he say?
He anchored his arm around her waist, supporting her weight as he slid the phone back into his coat pocket. “Come on. I’m taking you home.”
Dazed, she shook her head. “You—you can’t. The ceremony. The screenplay.” Her thoughts came in ragged fragments, her emotions torn between conflicting desires. She needed to be with her mother. But Jayce needed to be here.
“Neither of those things matter right now.” He led her off the balcony, back inside.
Too stunned to resist, CeCe wordlessly relented as he helped her into the car—Mia’s brightly colored VW Beetle he’d borrowed for the weekend. The cheerful daisies painted on the side seemed to mock the dire mood.
Instead of driving back to Blessings Bay, Jayce parked at the airport where a private jet waited for them.
Normally, she would’ve asked about the logistics—How would they return Mia’s car?
How would they get from the small local airport near Blessings Bay to her mother’s home?
—but tonight, she didn’t care. Jayce would figure out the details.
CeCe sat perfectly still, staring at her cell, barely registering the plush leather seat or her opulent surroundings.
She didn’t even remember Jayce getting her phone from the bathroom.
He’d grabbed her glasses, too, and although her eyes enjoyed the reprieve from the scratchy contacts, she still hadn’t shed a single tear.
She existed in a state of emotional limbo, praying her mother would call with another update before takeoff.
Jayce sat beside her in supportive silence while her thoughts flooded with all the words she wished she’d said to her father. All the I’m sorrys . All the I love yous .
What if she never got another chance to tell him? What if she’d seen his strong, sun-worn features for the last time? Or never again inhaled his familiar earthy scent of sandalwood soap and dry clay and soil?
At that moment, the abundance of anger she’d carried for so long gave way to an intense ache in the center of her chest. All the milestones he’d missed, the countless times he hadn’t called, the once-close relationship he’d allowed to slip away, suddenly paled in comparison to an entire future lost. She’d give anything for a do-over, a chance to begin again, to fix what they’d broken.
What they’d broken, she reminded herself.
The distance between them wasn’t all her father’s fault, was it?
Over the last few years, she hadn’t made much of an effort to stay connected, either.
She’d placed the burden of responsibility squarely on his shoulders, reasoning that he was the parent, after all. But did she really deserve a free pass?
The quiet self-reflection continued until they reached her mother’s doorstep. One glance at Mama’s swollen pink eyes released the floodgates holding CeCe’s own tears at bay, and for a moment, they merely stood in the doorway and wept in each other’s arms.
Pulling away, Mama wiped her eyes on the sleeve of her sundress. “Come in, come in. I’ll make us some tea.”
As Jayce stooped to kiss her mother’s cheek, something stirred in CeCe’s heart.
For the first time that evening, her mind made room for thoughts beyond her father’s safety, to what had transpired between her and Jayce on the balcony—what would’ve been the most glorious, pivotal moment of her life before her mother’s call.
She couldn’t help reading into every glance, every display of love and support.
“Thank you for coming.” Mama welcomed Jayce’s embrace, seeming to gather strength and comfort from his presence.
“Of course.” He squeezed her tightly, the way a son would hug his mother.
He’d always been a part of their family, but had things changed between them since their kiss?
Was this the beginning of something more?
He hadn’t hesitated to come with her, putting her needs above his own.
Was it possible he’d give up Hollywood? That he’d choose to stay—with her ? Was it foolish to even hope?
The sharp ring of a cell phone interrupted her rumination.
Her mother rushed to the kitchen table to answer it. “Hello? Yes, this is she.”
CeCe held her breath.
Jayce reached for her hand.
Together they stood side by side, studying Mama’s face, searching for clues.
A strangled sob escaped Mama’s lips, and she collapsed onto the chair. Tears cascaded down her cheeks. “Thank you, Jesus,” she murmured, her strained features suddenly softening with relief. “Oh, sweetheart, thank God you’re all right.”
CeCe’s heartbeat stuttered, barely daring to ask. “Dad?” she whispered.
Mama nodded, holding out her hand for her daughter.
CeCe hastened to her side, sinking onto the chair next to her, her heart racing, ready to burst. He’s okay! Hallelujah, he’s okay!
Gripping her mother’s hand with all her might, she eagerly waited for her turn to talk to her dad, mulling over everything she wanted to say, anxious to hear his voice.
After a few short minutes, her mother said, “Of course, honey. I understand. She’s here now. I’ll tell her.”
Tell me what? CeCe silently wondered. Why can’t he tell me himself?
Before she could ask her question aloud, her mother hung up the phone.
CeCe’s heart crumbled.
“Your father had to go, but he wanted us to know he’s okay. They got everyone out safely. They’re being evaluated by medical personnel as a matter of precaution, but he’s fine.”
“That’s great.” Her tone sounded tense to her own ears, and she forced a shaky smile, determined not to give in to her disappointment. It’s not personal. There’s a lot going on. He’ll call you when he can. Just be grateful he’s alive and well.
She took a moment to say a silent prayer of gratitude, allowing her racing pulse to settle. Resolved to focus on the positive, she turned toward Jayce. At least he was here. Maybe now, in the solace of her father’s safety, they could explore whatever had happened between them.
The front door closed. The latch clicked.
CeCe sat in stunned silence. Had Jayce just left?
Her phone buzzed on the table where Jayce must have placed it before he snuck out.
Her stomach knotted with nerves as she warily glanced at the screen.
Glad your dad is okay. Sorry to slip out. There’s somewhere I need to be, and I didn’t want to interrupt. Talk soon.
The disappointment she’d suppressed suddenly rose to the surface again, like a geyser erupting. She struggled to tamp it back down.
Of course he had to leave. He probably still had time to catch the end of the award ceremony. Or, at the very least, give the producer his script during the after-party.
This was Jayce’s big break at his lifelong dream. Could she really begrudge his desire to chase after his greatest passion? Even if it meant leaving her behind?