Chapter 11 #2
Susan’s room was brighter than his had been.
Someone had fully opened the blinds, letting in the soft September light.
His mother was propped up in bed, looking better than she had in months.
Her color was good, her eyes clear, and when she saw them, her face lit up with a smile that made every bit of pain worth it.
She reached out a hand. “There’s my boy. How are you feeling?”
He carefully pushed himself out of the wheelchair to move to her bedside and gently took her hand, mindful of the IV line. “Like I just donated a kidney. But it was worth it to see you looking so much better.”
“The doctors are thrilled with how the kidney is functioning. I can’t thank you enough, sweetheart. You gave me my life back.” She squeezed his hand
“Yeah, well, you gave me life first. It only seemed fair to return the favor.”
Conrad moved to the other side of the bed, his hand resting on their mother’s shoulder. “Your creatinine levels this morning were better than expected. Dr. Peterson said if you keep progressing like this, you might get out of here sooner than they thought.”
Susan’s gaze moved between her two sons, her expression growing emotional. “I’m ready to go home. I’m ready to have my family all together under one roof again. It’s been too long.”
“Soon, Mom. Soon you’ll be home, and we’ll enjoy all the Sunday dinners you want, and you can spoil Beck rotten.” He felt the pull of the incisions, a reminder that he couldn’t hold this position for long.
“And Della, too, when she visits. Conrad, you’ll bring her back to visit, won’t you? Once I’m recovered?” Her voice was hopeful.
Conrad’s expression flickered between guilt and regret. “Yeah, Mom. We’ll work something out.”
They stayed for another twenty minutes until a nurse came in to check Susan’s vitals, and his legs started to shake from standing too long. Conrad, always observant, immediately moved the wheelchair behind him.
“All right, invalid. Time to get back in your chariot.”
“I really hate you right now.”
Conrad’s grin returned as he lowered himself back into the chair. “No, you don’t. You love me. Almost as much as you love—”
“Finish that sentence, and I’m telling Sylvie about what you did to her truck.”
Conrad gasped. “You wouldn’t.”
“Try me.”
Susan laughed. A real, genuine laugh that he hadn’t heard in far too long. “You two never change. Even when you were little, you were always threatening to tell on each other.”
Conrad started wheeling him toward the door. “Cole was worse. He was an awful tattletale.”
“No, I was honest. There’s a difference.”
“You were a snitch.”
“I had a strong moral compass.”
“You were a pain in the butt.”
Their bickering continued down the hallway, through the elevator ride, and all the way to the main entrance, where Conrad had parked his truck. Despite the pain, exhaustion, and everything else, Cole was worried about what awaited him at home, yet he found himself smiling.
This was what family was supposed to be. Annoying and loving and real.
And as Conrad helped him carefully into the passenger seat of the truck, his thoughts drifted back to Jewel. To the family she’d become part of, whether she’d planned to or not.
To the words they’d exchanged in the recovery bay.
And to the life he wanted to build, if only he could find the courage to reach for it.
The drive back to the lodge took a few hours, most of which Conrad filled with commentary about the radio stations, complaints about his help back in Texas, and a surprisingly detailed recap of Della’s latest school play. He let the words wash over him, grateful for the distraction.
But as they turned onto the private road leading to his mother’s property, his stomach tightened with nerves that had nothing to do with post-surgical pain.
Jewel would be there. Beckett would be there. And somehow, he’d have to navigate seeing them both while feeling that his entire world had shifted on its axis.
“You ready?” Conrad pulled the truck to a stop in front of the main house.
He took a careful breath, feeling the pull of healing tissue. “As ready as I’ll ever be.”
“For what it’s worth? I think she loves you, too. And I think you’d be an idiot not to find out for sure.” Conrad’s hand landed on his shoulder, firm and steady
Before he could respond, the front door burst open, and a small blond blur came tearing down the porch steps.
“Daddy! Daddy, you’re home!”
And just like that, every worry, every doubt, every complicated feeling took a backseat to the simple, overwhelming joy of seeing his son’s face.
Conrad helped him out of the truck, and he crouched down slowly, just in time to catch Beck as he launched himself forward.
“Easy there, buddy. Daddy’s still a little sore.”
But Beckett was already wrapping his arms around his neck, trying to be careful despite his excitement. “I missed you so much! Jewel said you were helping Grandma get better and that you were very brave.”
His gaze lifted over his son’s head to the porch.
And there she was.
She stood in the doorway, backlit by the interior light of the house, her dark hair pulled back, her green eyes fixed on him with an expression he couldn’t quite read.
Their eyes met, and he felt the world narrow to just the two of them.
She’d said she loved him.
And God help him, he loved her, too.
Now, he just had to figure out if he was brave enough to tell her when he wasn’t drugged, terrified, and barely coherent.
Beckett grabbed his hand, pulling him toward the house. “Come on, Daddy! Jewel made your favorite soup, and Aunt Sylvie showed me how to make a card for you, and I drew you, me, Cookie Monster, and Scout on it.”
He let himself be pulled forward, his eyes never leaving her face.
She offered him a small, tentative smile.
He tried to smile back, but his heart was hammering so hard he was certain everyone could hear it.
Two days ago, he’d told her he loved her.
Now he just had to figure out what came next.