But first, he needed to give himself a regular infusion. Once the sun had risen, he pulled into a McDonald’s parking lot. He bought a cup of black coffee and headed to the outside dining tables, glad they were empty so nobody would have to watch the distasteful medical procedure. Cars zoomed by and the parking lot smelled of crumbling asphalt, but it would suffice to take care of business. He spread a disposable pad on the picnic table, then opened his insulated bag of infusion supplies.
A note lay atop the vials of life-saving clotting factor. It was written in Sophie’s handwriting. He opened the note and read.
Thank you for coming. I wasn’t the best hostess for you, but I hope you can still become part of our family. Will you come for Christmas? You will be warmly welcomed.
He set the note aside, pensive as he opened a packet to disinfect his arm and the tops of the vials. The medicinal smell of alcohol floated in the air while he laid out the syringes, butterfly needle, double-ended needle, and the filter needle. Ironically,the longest part of the process was bringing the factor and solution up to room temperature.
He rolled both vials between his hands, urging them to warm faster as he thought about Sophie’s invitation. Some people thrived in a family setting, others were best off on their own, and Jack always knew which camp he belonged in. For the past twenty years he spent Christmas in a hotel room binge-watching whatever football games were scheduled. The easiest thing would be to revert to his normal routine, but Sophie’s note tugged at him. He should probably go, but first he had to win the contract at Camp Lejeune.
Once the vials were warm enough, he mixed the contents into a reconstituted solution, then tied a rubber strip around his bicep. He flexed his hands until a vein in his forearm rose into prominence beneath his skin, then held his breath as he inserted the needle and began the infusion.
Now all he had to do was sit and wait.
And think.
Alice had nudged him toward reconnecting with his father from the very beginning, and as with most things, she’d been right.
Alice. What a frumpy name for such a magnificent woman. Alice was beauty and humor and indefatigable resolve. She was gingham dresses and warm apple pie. Her daffy idealism was as delightful as it was frustrating. She was clever and funny and could deploy a battering ram of smooth Southern charm. He teased her for living in the past, for pretending she lived in a Jane Austen–inspired world.
Except it wasn’t pretend. Alice created a world that embodied kindness and beauty and refinement. It was real, and it was who she was. She deserved so much more than he could give her.
The level of fluid in the vial slowly lowered as it drained into his arm. He wished it would drain faster so he could get back onthe road and crank up the radio with a wall of hillbilly music to banish these memories about Alice.
Once the infusion was complete, he began packing up the supplies when a blue Toyota Prius swung into a parking space. He froze, not quite believing his eyes as the door opened and a woman with long dark hair stepped out.
Alice?Had she somehow followed him here? Put one of those tracking devices in his golf bag? A thrill ran through him, because all of a sudden the only person on the planet he wanted to see was Alice Chadwick and she was here and it was a miracle.
“Alice!” he called out across the parking lot.
The woman glanced his way but kept walking toward the restaurant.
A teenager. Not Alice.
The momentary flash of joy evaporated, and he was back in a bleak parking lot. Why was he always happy when Alice was around? He never should have let his guard down with her. Alice was his kryptonite, his Achilles heel. She was the one person on this earth who had slipped beneath his defenses and made him believe he could have something besides this life of loneliness and constant travel.
He would get over her eventually. Just like all the other times he pulled up stakes and moved on, he’d soon heal. The faster he could get to Camp Lejeune, the faster he could get back to work and the life he had chosen for himself.
Chapter Thirty-Four
The email Alice received from the specialist hired to perform the infrared scan of the portrait was cryptic. Professor Dreyfuss’s email said his initial scan was “disappointing,” and he was coming to Williamsburg to show her the results in person. The professor also suggested she would need to come up with additional funds if he was to proceed any further.
Alice wanted Arlo in on this conversation, and arrived at his office ahead of the appointed meeting time.
“It sounds like he didn’t find anything,” Alice grumbled as she dropped into the chair opposite Arlo’s desk. “Do you think he just wants to gouge us for money?”
“Maybe not,” Arlo replied. “He wouldn’t drive all the way from Richmond if he came up completely empty.”
Jack didn’t have any more money for the Roost. She’d heard nothing from him since he left town last week, but he’d already taken on far more debt than he ever imagined. Fascination with Helga and William Reid Denby washerthing, not his. She couldn’t ask him to fund expensive scientific tests that were likely to come up empty.
When he sauntered in the door, Professor Dreyfuss was nothing like she had imagined a distinguished optical engineer ought to look. Instead of a gray beard and thick glasses, the gangly kid wore a Coldplay T-shirt and flip-flops. He had a laptop bag slung over his shoulder and carried a large tube beneath his arm. There was no sign of the gaudy portrait.
“You have a PhD in Optical Engineering?” Alice asked, stunned.
“Yup,” he said with a good-natured reply. “I thought I’d go into medical research, but the same technology that looks inside a human body can also look inside paintings. So here I am! Call me Jason.”
Arlo offered to make them both a cup of tea before they started, but Alice declined, wanting to get straight to the results. Jason accepted the offer of tea, and the steeping process seemed to go on forever.
What was in the cardboard tube? She clenched the arms of her chair to stop herself from lunging for it. Maybe the results were disappointing, but he hadsomethingin that tube to show them, and she wished Arlo and Jason would gulp down their tea so they could get on with it.
