Sandpiper Way (Cedar Cove #8)(44)

He left them, saying he’d be back as soon as Olivia had been admitted.

Jack was pale, the look on his face anguished. He seemed to blame himself. “I should never have gone out,” he said over and over. “Thank God you were there.”

The Christmas music playing in the background seemed incongruous, but it reminded her that she and Seth had planned to put up their tree this afternoon. Now the prospect of preparing for the holidays was the farthest thing from her mind.

“Mom’s going to be all right,” she said because she needed to hear it. Needed to say it.

“Yes,” Jack confirmed, but he didn’t sound confident.

While they waited for news, Justine phoned Seth to explain where she was. He assured her that he could easily keep Leif occupied and sent Olivia his best wishes.

When Dr. Franklin returned, his voice was grave. “Olivia is stable. As I told you, I’ve started her on a high dose of antibiotics. Her temperature is down a couple of degrees. We have her lying on an ice blanket, which has helped quite a bit.”

“Thank God,” Jack whispered again.

“Although she’s in stable condition, I don’t want to discount the seriousness of this infection. Another four or five hours, and we might not have been able to save her.”

Justine’s hand flew to her mouth.

“We’re going to fight this to the best of our ability. The problem, of course, is that Olivia’s immune system is already compromised. This isn’t something we can deal with overnight. She’ll probably be here for several days.”

Jack nodded. “I’d like to stay with her if I could.”

Dr. Franklin nodded.

When he’d gone, Jack turned to Justine and handed her the keys to his car. She stared at them, not understanding his intent.

“Take the car home,” he said. “When you come back, bring me a set of clothes.”

“But, Jack—”

“I’m not leaving Olivia again,” he insisted. “I’m never leaving her alone again.”

Sixteen

Shirley Bliss glanced out the front window. The streetlights had come on more than an hour ago. Tanni was late for dinner again, which wasn’t an unusual occurrence since she’d taken up with Shaw, the boy who seemed to have only one name. Shirley had met him once, briefly. Tanni was none too eager for her to talk to this young man, for reasons Shirley didn’t understand. It was times like this that she missed Jim the most.

Her husband had been close to Tanni, and their daughter had never recovered from his death.

Shirley would never recover, either.

It was almost a year now. A very difficult year.

As long as she lived, Shirley would remember that January afternoon, when the young officer from the Washington State Patrol rang her doorbell. She’d been in her art room in the basement, working on a new quilt, and the interruption had annoyed her. Jim, a pilot for Alaska Airlines, had left for the airport two hours earlier. He usually flew the Seattle-Anchorage route. As he often did, he’d taken his Harley-Davidson motorcycle rather than his car.

At first Shirley couldn’t figure out why there was a patrolman at her door. She had trouble taking in his words—that there’d been an accident and her husband had not survived.

Even then Shirley hadn’t understood. There must be a mistake, she’d said. Two hours ago Jim had kissed her on the cheek, not wanting to disturb her work, and set out for the airport. Two hours earlier, the man she’d spent twenty years of her life with had told her he’d see her the following night.

Now he was dead? It couldn’t be. It wasn’t possible.

The officer, apparently accustomed to this sort of reaction, had asked if there was someone he could contact on her behalf, a family member, a pastor or perhaps a friend.

Closing her eyes, Shirley tried to force her thoughts away from that horrible afternoon, a time that had forever changed her life and the lives of her children.

Of the three of them, Nick seemed to have adjusted the most successfully to the loss of his father. He was protective of both Shirley and his younger sister. He’d stepped into that role in a way that astonished her. Jim would’ve been so proud of their son. Over Christmas, when Nick was home from school for a couple of weeks, Shirley planned to talk with him about Tanni.

Tanni wasn’t the same after Jim’s death. Unlike her brother, she’d withdrawn from her friends and family, especially Shirley. In fact, Tanni seemed to blame Shirley for the accident; she’d said as much. If Shirley had made more of a fuss, perhaps Jim wouldn’t have bought that stupid motorcycle. Shirley should’ve insisted he take the car that afternoon. She should’ve known, should’ve stopped him, should’ve done something. On and on. That was pretty well the extent of any conversation with Tanni. Shirley had stopped trying to defend herself. There was no point. These days, their daughter was immersed in her art, spending hours alone in her room. She talked to Shirley as little as possible and refused to show her anything she’d drawn.

In the beginning, Tanni’s relationship with Shaw had encouraged Shirley. For the first time since her father’s death, Tanni had shown some enthusiasm for life. She had a friend, someone who was important to her. They’d met around Thanksgiving and been practically inseparable ever since.

Shaw always picked her up in front of the house and dropped her off there. Whenever he pulled up she shot out the door with barely a word and didn’t return for hours. That left next to no opportunity for questions. When Tanni did get home, she hated what she called “the inquisition” and ignored her mother completely.