The Family Gathering (Sullivan's Crossing #3)(68)

“Is she okay? Nikki?” Tom asked.

“She’s okay,” Jackson said. “We’re not traumatized. It’s pretty obvious why she left us, isn’t it? This kind of life wasn’t going to be enough. And you know what? That makes me feel really sorry for her.”

“Are you sure you’re only twenty-one?” Tom said.

Jackson didn’t answer. “That’s why I’m taking things slow with Shelly,” he said. “I love her like mad, but I want both of us sure, going forward, what kind of life we can commit to. I don’t want to end up alone with four little kids.”

“Jackson, regardless of your mom changing her mind and going her own way, you four kids are the best thing that ever happened to me. I don’t regret one thing. I wouldn’t give one of you up.” He took a slug of his beer. “Except maybe Zach,” he said. “He’s kind of a pain in the ass.”

Jackson laughed. “Yeah, you could’ve done better on that one.”

*

Dakota and Sid drove to Colorado Springs together on the Saturday nights they worked at the soup kitchen and it had quickly become one of his favorite parts of the week. He was indebted to the group of volunteers who had come to Denver to help him look for Sedona and he was a great admirer of Sister Mary Jacob.

But the ride alone with Sid was a pleasure. That was where they did much of their talking, learning about each other. He told her all about Hasnaa, how they met, how fast they fell in love, how they ignored the differences in their cultures, how she died. “How ironic that a Muslim woman whose life’s work was about peace should die at the hands of terrorists,” he said. “I was a long time getting beyond that.”

“Are you beyond it?” she asked.

“It was a process. I did a little acting out.”

“Ah,” she said. “Acting out?”

“That’s how I got in some trouble in the Army. I was pretty angry. But I had some time to think about things, then I went to Australia, where I had even more time to think, and then I came here. By the time I got here I realized Hasnaa had changed me in a very short time. I’d always been determined to have no real ties, and after Hasnaa, I wanted real ties. I came to my family. For the first time. I met you. I have a niece and, I think, a nephew. Domestic matters like family struggles used to bore me, used to seem so pointless to me. Now I look at my brother and sister and admire them. Sedona used to irritate me. Now that I know how fallible and vulnerable she is, I’d like to see her get whatever help she needs.” He paused. “I used to want to be alone. Now I want to be connected.”

“All that came out of tragedy?” Sid asked.

“Only sort of. Remember, for as much as Hasnaa meant to me and as hard as it was to lose her, we were together barely a few months. For just a little while I had a view of what life could be like. And it can be so good.”

Sid laughed uncomfortably. “I’m not here to fulfill your fantasies.”

“But you do, just the same. I’ve been wanting to ask you about your husband.”

“Ex,” she clarified. “What about him?”

“Tell me about him. Whatever you think is important. Like, how’d you end up with him?”

“I’m not entirely sure,” she said. “I suspect he handpicked me as someone who would work hard for him. On my part? Probably lack of experience. I never dated much. I was dorky and clumsy and introverted, very comfortable with nerds and computers. He was handsome and funny and all the girls wanted him. I didn’t even bother taking him seriously when he hit on me. He was a student—a medical student—and I had a good job at UCLA. But I didn’t have much social confidence. I was awkward.”

“You’re sure not awkward anymore,” he said, squeezing her hand.

“A lot has changed since nine or ten years ago. But when I was a kid that car accident drove me inside and I turned to books and science. I didn’t have a lot of self-confidence.”

“You’re certainly at full function now,” he said.

“That scar does nothing for my bathing suit look.”

He chuckled. “Remember, I’ve seen you naked. Believe me, that scar does not detract. You’re beautiful.”

“You have to say that,” she said.

“No, I don’t have to say anything,” he said. “I have a few scars of my own, and don’t pretend you haven’t noticed. The Army hands ’em out.”

“Scars on a handsome guy don’t—”

“Tell me about the accident,” he said.

That took her mind temporarily off scars and feeling awkward. “It was entirely my fault and I’m lucky to be alive at all. I was on my bike, shot out into the street from between two parked cars without looking and bam! Got hit by a nice lady who was driving the carpool. If I hadn’t been wearing that ugly God-awful helmet...”

“Aw, man. That must be a parent’s worst nightmare.”

“It changed my life. I don’t know what I’d be like if that hadn’t happened, you know? It made me self-conscious and kind of shy. So I was not exactly savvy when this good-looking guy came around. I dated him, married him in less than a year and worked while he went through med school and surgical residency. He was tied up so much—if he had time off, he was studying, so I worked a lot of overtime. It wasn’t long before we didn’t have much of a relationship. Then he left me.”