Chapter 19
CHAPTER NINETEEN
Being supportive nearly gave Camille a bloody tongue.
She’d had to bite it all morning. Each time Foster assured her that she didn’t need to go with him down to the hospital, she chomped down on it.
Every time he told her he was fine (she knew he wasn’t), she bit it.
And when he stepped out the front door, getting swept into the storm that absolutely would not relent, she zipped her lip and bit her tongue once again.
Keeping quiet was a losing battle.
At least there was one person who didn’t mind her grumbling since he did his fair share every now and then, too.
“Everything’s going to be alright, Millie.” Skip found her in the kitchen near the big window, face inches from the glass. Her breath fogged against it in a circle that lasted just a few fleeting seconds before disappearing.
“How do you know that?”
“Because I’ve lived enough life to see the pattern in things.”
She turned toward Skip. “The pattern?”
“The ups and the downs. The hills and valleys.”
She folded her arms across her chest, shivering. “I feel like we’re beginning our steep and steady descent into one of those valleys.”
“Nah. Not the way I see it. I think you’re about to crest the hilltop.”
She wasn’t tracking, couldn’t understand how Skip could be so confident. She was in pieces over this. Lost sleep. Lost her appetite. Feared she would lose her husband altogether, too.
“Mark was your valley, Millie. That deep abyss of helplessness and despair. Foster is your mountain. You two are going to keep climbing up it together, hand in hand until you get to the very top.”
“Unless something shoves us off it completely.”
“You’re a dramatic one, Millie. No denying that. But this is a big moment for the two of you. A turning point in your new marriage. You get to decide together how to proceed with all that life has presented you. For better or worse kind of stuff.”
“So then why did Foster insist I stay here? Why did he go to the hospital alone if we’re supposed to be a team?”
“Because he knows you. Knows what sitting in that waiting room would do to that overactive brain of yours. He’d rather you be here with me than there alone.”
“Did he say that to you?”
Skips shoulders jounced. “More or less. Asked that I look after you today. Keep you company. Keep you distracted.”
If this was the way Camille reacted to some simple tests, she couldn’t even comprehend the worry that would seize her should Foster go under the knife. It was enough to make her sick.
“Did he tell you we had to stay at The Getaway?”
“Not implicitly. Just said that I shouldn’t leave your side ‘til he was back. Why?”
Camille was already shouldering into her jacket with her car keys in hand. “Grab your favorite book and maybe a cushion since those waiting room chairs are the most uncomfortable thing known to man.”
“We’re going out in this storm?” He gave her a skeptical look. She understood it. She’d been the one telling everyone else to seek shelter.
But she was dealing with bigger storms now, and she would brave them.
“You think he’s going to be mad when he finds out we’re all here?” Edie looked at Camille.
“Maybe.”
“And you’re okay with that?” Tabitha was on a short break, and it just so happened to coincide with the timing of a text from Foster saying everything was done. That had to be serendipity, right?
They planned to intercept him before Foster headed back to the Inn, a plan that seemed like a good one when Camille had originally conjured it up. But now she was beginning to second-guess herself. “I don’t think he’ll be mad. Just confused.”
She wanted to support him, and this was the only tangible way she could think to do that. The people around her were her own pillars of strength, and she knew that over the months they had become that for Foster, too.
At the very least, she hoped their smiling faces would bring some sort of comfort.
But Camille was having difficulty producing that smile. It wobbled unsteadily on her mouth. Trembled along with her choppy breath.
They weren’t in a waiting room, per se, but posted up in a few chairs at the entrance of the building where Foster was having his tests run.
It would give them the best vantage point to see him before he set out for his truck.
And every time someone turned the corner toward them, Camille’s heart picked up speed. Her nerves increased tenfold.
“Maybe he went out a back way,” Edie suggested after another fifteen minutes of nothing.
“This is where he would come through,” Tabitha said confidently. She knew every building on the hospital’s campus like the back of her hand.
Suddenly, Camille’s head lifted, sensing her husband’s presence before she could even see him.
Foster immediately met her eyes.
His forehead wrinkled, mouth falling flat.
Was he mad? Goodness, she couldn’t tell, but she knew he had every right to be. They’d practically ambushed him.
Maybe the entourage of encouragement had been too much. Maybe it just should have been her. Or maybe no one at all.
But when he moved toward her, his feet picking up speed until they deposited him directly in front of her, all of that apprehension faded with one simple embrace.
Foster folded Camille into his massive arms, squeezing her harder than he ever had before.
“We didn’t want you to be alone,” she said, pressing her cheek to his. “I’m sorry if this is too much.”
“It’s absolutely too much.” He held her out at arm’s length and gave her the warmest smile. “But I wouldn’t expect anything other than too much when it comes to you, sweetheart.”
“Did you find anything out?” Edie asked.
“Not yet. They’re going to call me, but I should know soon.”
Camille’s hands slipped from Foster’s shoulders, down to his arms, ultimately clasping his hands. “I thought your tests wrapped up some time ago?”
“They did. But I thought I’d pay a visit to Jim before I headed out.”
She hadn’t intended to, but Camille jolted. “You saw your brother?”
“I did. He’s actually being discharged today.”
“How did that go?” Skip shuffled close.
“Better than I expected in some regards. Worse in others.” Foster’s piercing blue eyes cut back over to Camille. “I’m really hungry. Tests ran all the way through lunchtime. Do you all think we could stop somewhere and grab a bite to eat? I’d be happy to fill you all in then.”
They all agreed and filtered into their individual vehicles to head over to Brewster’s. Tabitha regretfully had to finish her shift at the hospital, but Camille promised to order her sister some of her favorite mozzarella cheese sticks that she could toss into her air fryer later.
While she wanted to drive with her husband—she honestly hoped to get a little insider information before the others—Camille had driven Skip to the hospital in her own car, and she knew the sailor wouldn’t be comfortable driving on his own.
He still had his license, but often confessed that it had been years since he’d been behind the wheel on a road or highway.
At the helm of a ship on the water was much more his speed.
They arrived at Brewster’s quickly and were led by the hostess to the back of the establishment and given a dimly lit corner booth. It felt fitting to Camille, to be tucked securely away like this. Not that what Foster had to share was a secret, but it was personal, and she wanted to protect that.
They ordered their lunch: a pastrami sandwich and sweet potato fries for Skip, a personal margherita pizza for Foster, and the all-things-fried appetizer basket for Edie and Camille to share, along with two house salads with Italian dressing.
This place had the best comfort food, and Camille soon realized that was exactly what she needed.
She had been on pins and needles ever since learning that Foster had reunited with Jim back at the hospital. She’d wanted to know every detail but waited on her husband to share that. One pale ale in and he seemed ready.
“So.” He thumbed the condensation beading on the side of his pint glass. “I mentioned I visited Jim.”
“You did.” Camille was doing her level best not to burst at the seams. She simply nodded, encouraging him to continue.
“I know it’s killing you inside, sweetheart.” His hand pressed to her knee under the table.
“I’m doing just fine,” she lied.
Edie and Skip looked at one another, smirking.
“I take it he didn’t know you were coming,” Edie asked.
“I think he knew I was at the hospital. The staff had told him that I had agreed to have the tests run to see if I’m a match. I just don’t think he expected me to show up in his room unannounced.”
“Do you think that caught him off guard?” Camille was careful with her questions, spacing them out so she didn’t bombard Foster. But she wanted to know. She wanted to know every little detail that he would share with her.
“I think he was surprised to see me, yes.”
“And you were able to talk with him?”
“We talked for some time. Oddly enough, not about the cancer or the liver transplant, though. More about what he’s been up to all these years.”
“And what’d that be?” Skip coughed loudly, clearing his throat. He picked up his water glass and downed a big gulp. “Other than embarking on illegal fishing expeditions?”
“He’s in boat sales.”
That tickle in Skip’s throat tried to choke him. “I beg your pardon?”
“He somehow got himself involved in luxury boat sales. I don’t know how. I’m sure his connections aren’t legitimate. But apparently, he’s been doing that for the last decade or so, and the captain of the boat that went missing is a long-time customer of his.”
“Are he and…” Camille wasn’t sure why she even started to ask the question. It was one of those situations where her mind didn’t filter her words before delivering them to her mouth.
“Are he and Darla still together?”
Just then, their server came by with a large platter of food, balancing the circular tray while he passed off the dishes to each person at the table.
And just in time. Camille’s stomach had started to growl loudly, an echo she was sure everyone could hear, especially over the silence that fell when she’d uttered that ridiculously inappropriate question.
“They are not. They did get married soon after I was released from prison but divorced some time ago. Believe it or not, but they’ve actually got kids. Twins. A boy and a girl in their twenties.”
“Runs in the family, I suppose,” Camille said, knowing Foster had twins of his own.
“Apparently more than just twins run in the family. Sounds like Jim did a stint of his own in jail not long after mine. A drug bust at some warehouse in his name.” Foster lifted a slice of his pizza to his mouth, steam rising in curls.
He waved a hand to cool it down before taking a bite.
“He said that prison changed him. That he found God and vowed to clean up his act and change his ways.”
“I’ve heard of a lot of people having some sort of spiritual awakening behind bars.”
Foster cocked his head. “It does give you some time to reflect. And it also gives you some time to explore the ways you might be able to right your wrongs.”
Oh, how she’d wanted to ask her husband which way he leaned when it came to the transplant. But maybe he hadn’t even decided. It had been a big day with a lot of unexpected emotion. And it wasn’t even a decision he could fully make until he knew the results.
Edie looked across the table. “Was it good to see him after all of these years?”
“I wouldn’t say it was good. I wouldn’t even say it was cathartic.
It kind of just was.” He set his pizza slice down.
“But I will say, I wasn’t consumed with the hatred I once felt.
When I walked in and saw him in that hospital bed, my mind flashed back to the time I took things into my own hands.
It made me realize he’d ended up in a similar bed because of me.
Because of my anger. That was an uncomfortable thought.
So—if anything—I’d say the encounter was uncomfortable.
But that’s honestly what I was expecting. ”
Camille slid her hand into the crook of Foster’s elbow and leaned closer to him on their side of the booth.
She loved this man and his transparency.
The way he could express his thoughts and feelings verbally instead of keeping them tucked away.
He was an open book. He’d been one since the night in the bar at the Villas when he’d told her all about his past, sharing with a tender vulnerability she had never experienced from a man.
“I’m really proud of you for not only going in to get the tests run, but for visiting with Jim, too.”
“Truth be told, I was more nervous about the latter part. I had built things up between us over the years. Let my anger simmer. But one look at him and that all just kind of faded away. He’s just an old man like me now.
We’re not hotheaded young kids anymore. And at the end of the day, he’s still my brother. ”
“Family means something,” Camille said.
“It does. I just need to figure out exactly what it means to me.”