“Alice?” he said.
“What was that?” the doctor asked.
“Is Alice here?” It was a long shot, but the room was crowded and the brace on his neck stopped him from looking around.
A nurse pulled aside, and suddenly Alice moved into view, her face radiant as she hunkered down where he could see her.
“I’m right here, Jack.”
She wore his favorite yellow dress, the one that brought out the gold in her warm brown eyes, and he smiled back at her. “Hey, pretty lady.”
The doctor gave a laugh. “Okay, I’ll mark you down as being able to recognize faces,” he said. Alice pulled back and the nurse watching the monitors took her place.
It was humiliating to have Alice see him like this, hooked up to machines and with the awful neck brace. There was even a tube and a bag so he could take a whiz without leaving the bed. No man wanted to be seen like this, and yet . . . he was so glad she was here.
“Alice,” he slurred again.
“Yes, Jack?” This time she stood at the end of the bed where he could see her perfectly. So perfectly pretty, like a long-stemmed rose. “What is it, darling? What do you need?”
“Nothing. Just saying your name.”
Alice stayed where he could see her for the duration of the tests, which drained what little energy was left in him. He didn’t like needing her, but for today, he was grateful she was here.
Jack’s mind was in better shape the next morning, which was a mixed blessing. The fogginess had cleared, which meant he could focus on his dire financial situation. The accident had postponed his trip to Japan and their patience was growing thin. Repairs to the waterfall would delay the opening of the golf course. The renovations at the Roost were going to be incredibly expensive.
Alice had been doing her best to set his mind at ease. “I already spoke with the contractor about the waterfall,” she said. “He’s going to fix the lining free of charge, so don’t worry about a thing.”
The contractor had to fix the lining because it was a shoddy installation from the beginning. They’d used the wrong grade of liner, which was why Jack had been having water problems from the beginning.
“I need to get in contact with the guy in Japan,” he said. “I’m going to need you to read the latest emails to me.” The plastic torture device encasing his neck made it impossible to look at his phone or even read a laptop.
“Jack, please don’t worry about these things. You need to heal.”
Easy for a rich person to say. “What else has been going on while I’ve been out? Are you seeing Sebastian?”
“Of course I’ve seen him,” she said. “He helped me clean out your hotel room. Oh! And I got Daisy to waive the hotel fees from your time in the hospital. That’s good news, isn’t it?”
He would nod if the neck brace would permit it but had to settle for a thumbs-up instead.
“Jack, I wish I didn’t have to bring this up . . . ”
All senses went on alert. Her Pollyanna brightness had dimmed, so it must be bad. “Yeah, what’s up?”
“I spoke with your stepmother,” she said, and like clockwork his heart started pounding faster. “She knows about your accident and I had a long talk with her.”
Sophie probably told Alice a sob story about his dad’s health. People always took advantage of softies like Alice.
“Don’t worry about it,” he said. “I’ve known my dad has been sick for a long time.” And yet, the panic was setting in again. He forced himself to breathe calmly, trying to release the tension that gathered in his muscles. It felt like bands constricting around his chest, making it hard to even drag in a decent lungful of air.
“There may not be much time,” Alice said, her voice heavy with regret. “Sophie says that your dad’s lungs are so bad that his heart is going to give out soon. She thinks he only has a few weeks left.”
The words landed hard and he squeezed his eyes shut.Oh, Dad.
This shouldn’t hurt so bad because it was his dad’s fault for smoking two packs a day and being a lousy drunk all those years.
He opened his eyes to focus on a golf game on the TV. The first time Jack became interested in golf was from a hospital bed, and Frank Latimer explained the rules to him. No hospital stays were fun, but that one, in which he and his dad bonded over a PGA weekend, had been pretty good.
“Well, I’m sorry for that,” Jack managed to choke out, because his heart still hadn’t quit thumping like a freight train barreling down the tracks.
