Heart of the Country

  Then I heard a pop. That’d be just like me, to get shot in my own dad’s office by a disgruntled employee. I realized that I had indeed not been shot but greeted by Mona, who stood at her desk and clapped for me. My face flushed so badly that I was certain I was about to spontaneously combust. I was just about to give the cutoff sign to Mona when several other of Dad’s inner circle employees stood and clapped.

  “What are you clapping for?” I think I actually said it out loud. If I did, nobody heard me. I tried a gentle, amiable wave, but that didn’t seem to calm it down. All I could do was walk forward, smile pleasantly, hope there wasn’t a cake.

  Finally it died down and I got to Dad’s office. I rounded the corner and stepped in. He was at his desk. He rose with a wide, open smile and hurried to . . . hug me? Like bear-hug me. The kind that embarrasses you in front of the elementary school. I patted him on the back.

  Then two hefty arms grabbed me from behind and I was lifted off the ground. I didn’t even have to turn around. I knew it was Jake.

  “Wow,” I said, out of breath from shock, among other things. “Thanks . . . I don’t know why everyone is clapping.”

  “They’re glad you’re back!” Dad said. “So am I. Welcome home, Son.”

  More clapping. I thanked everyone, stepping out of Dad’s office to give them a grateful smile. Closing Dad’s door, I put my briefcase down and sat in one of his chairs. In fact, it was the same chair I’d sat in to tell Dad I wanted my money and I was leaving him.

  “Dad . . .”

  “I know—we have a lot to talk about. I’ve scheduled in an hour and a half to—”

  “I can’t . . . Don’t give me a job, Dad.”

  “Of course I’m going to give you a job.”

  “I thought better of it—” Jake grinned—“but he wouldn’t hear of it. He wants you back. So do I.”

  “That was a chapter. A painful chapter, sure. But it’s over now. Time to start a new one,” Dad said.

  A rush of relief squeezed around me like another bear hug. I resisted a good tear-up by rubbing my hands together and switching subjects. “How did you get me that immunity deal?”

  Dad had his reading glasses on now and he peered at me. “Don’t ask questions like that, Son.”

  I looked at Jake, who I knew couldn’t resist the inquiry. “We cut a deal with the SEC the minute you left our company and started with Michov.”

  “What?”

  Dad dropped his glasses to his desk and looked resigned to explain. “We knew they were after Michov, and so we offered a few of our most trusted clients to pose as investors in exchange for your immunity. As long as you never invested anyone else’s funds, the deal was in place.”

  I am certain my jaw dropped. I looked at Jake. “That’s why you cut me off at the gallery that night.”

  Jake nodded. “That whale wasn’t on the protected list.”

  Dad looked unsure that I was processing what they wanted me to understand . . . that even when I wandered off to do my own thing, they were watching over me. “We protected you, Son, because we love you.”

  I sat there, wondering how much control I ever really had in the world. But how much did I want? “You never really let me leave, did you?”

  “I let you go where you wanted to go, but nothing passed to you that didn’t first pass through me.”

  And I knew it to be true because even at my lowest moment, I always felt my dad’s hand on my shoulder.

  “Dad?”

  “Yes?”

  “Thank you.”

  Jake, who was leaning against the wall, walked forward, uncrossing his arms. “Okay, we better get this guy back to work before he turns into some sort of sad sack.”

  I nodded.

  Dad said, “Jake, give us a minute, will you?”

  Jake left and Dad stood, put his hands in his pockets, the way he did when he was about to dole out wise advice to me as a kid. “Where do you and Faith stand?”

  “She won’t take my calls. I’ve tried everything. I think she’s done with me. I’ll probably get served any day now.”

  To my surprise, Dad looked disappointed. Upset, even. “I’m sorry to hear that.”

  “You are?”

  “I am. You and Faith are more alike than you realize. But she’s got a good heart. I hope she finds forgiveness for you, Luke.” Dad returned to his desk. “Your office is set up. Time to focus.”

  “Okay.”

  I walked out, turned right, and went to find my office. I assumed it was the far back one, near the utility closet. The one nobody wanted. The one I deserved. I walked past the corner office with its bright sky view and its spacious bookshelves. I glimpsed the name on the door. Luke Carraday.

  How could this be? I nearly ruined the family name and I got a corner office? I reached up to touch the nameplate, to make sure it was real, when my phone rang.

  It was Faith’s number. I quickly answered. “Faith?”

  56

  FAITH

  THERE ARE TIMES you just don’t want to open your eyes. I’d been in a deep sleep, the kind that makes you feel like you’ve sunk into your mattress and it is protecting you from the outside world. And there is a moment between wakefulness and sleep that seems like perfect peace, like the way heaven must feel all the time.

  My body felt weightless and my mind felt clear. My heart didn’t ache.

  Stay here.

  I wondered if this was how Mom felt right before she died. If this was what beckoned her on to eternity, I would’ve gone too.

  But it was quickly rattled away by a snore and then a snort from Olivia, who turned over and mumbled something about cake batter in her sleep.

  I opened my eyes, stared at the ceiling, and all the heartache rushed back. My reality had returned. But I had my sister and my dad. There wasn’t much more I could ask for.

  I turned to look at him, but to my surprise, the bed was empty. Even made.

  “What time is it?” Olivia asked, her voice groggy and two octaves lower.

  I looked at the clock for the first time. “Good grief. It’s nine!”

  “I haven’t slept till nine since before the girls were born,” Olivia said as I rolled over to face her. “Did the beauty sleep do me any good?”

  I laughed. “You don’t need beauty sleep, my dear.”

  “Tell that to this old face.” She rubbed her eyes. “They have continental breakfast here?”

  “Until nine,” I sighed. “But you didn’t come all the way to New York for oatmeal and toast, did you? You need a bagel! Maybe we can talk Dad into it. He’s been pretty gung ho on the local food.”

  “Where is Dad?” Olivia asked, rising up on one elbow.

  I pointed to the bathroom door, which was closed. “Getting ready, I guess.”

  “I wondered if he even noticed I was here,” Olivia said. “I can’t believe he didn’t wake up with all that chattering we did last night.”

  “We have until noon to get to the hospital. Time for a little sightseeing anyway,” I said.

  “You feel up to it?”

  “Sure. I still love this city. It’s not home, but it’s interesting.”

  “Get our mind off of why we’re here.”

  “Yeah.” And I had to remind myself of the real reason we were here, and it wasn’t to feed into some fantasy notion that Luke and I were meant to be together, against all odds. I had to find my own way to say good-bye to it all, but I wasn’t sure how to do that. Right now, though, I had to focus on Dad.

  “What’s he doing in there?” Olivia asked. “I have to pee. The man doesn’t have a lot of hair to comb.”

  I laughed. “Dad, hurry it up in there! You’ve got two girls that have to go potty!”

  “Remember the time he didn’t believe that you had to go and you went all over the tractor seat?”

  “Oh yeah. He never made that mistake again. And I never made the mistake of drinking the whole pitcher of lemonade.”

  “You loved your lemonade
!”

  “Yes, I did.” I sat up in bed. “Dad? You okay in there?”

  No answer. We glanced nervously at each other and Olivia flung her legs to the side of the bed and got out. “He’s going deaf, you know.” She knocked on the door. “Daddy? You okay?”

  We listened. Olivia’s eyes grew wide as she glanced back at me.

  “Dad?” She quickly opened the door.

  I jumped out of bed, but Olivia walked out of the bathroom before I got there. “He’s not there.”

  “He’s not there?”

  We both looked at the made bed. “Dad went out without us?” Olivia gasped. “In New York City?”

  “Okay, let’s calm down. At least we know he’s okay. Let’s just call his cell phone.”

  “Dad doesn’t have a cell phone, Faith. He just got an answering machine four years ago.”

  “Wait . . . look—a note,” I said, pointing to the table beside his bed.

  Olivia rushed over like it might hop away. She snatched it up. “‘Be back soon.’”

  “‘Be back soon’?”

  “I’m going to kill him. He knows better than this.”

  “Where would he be going? To look around the city? Without us?”

  “Maybe he wants to gorge on local cuisine.”

  I nodded. “That’s highly likely, actually.”

  “So . . . what do we do?”

  I smiled. “Let’s enjoy ourselves.”

  57

  LUKE

  THE LAST TIME I’d been to Battery Park was when I’d brought Faith there after we’d first met. As a lifelong New Yorker, I had fun taking her to the various hot spots and a few off-the-map ones too. Though she’d lived here for years, she’d mostly kept to the places that she was familiar with. She’d not ventured much south of Juilliard, so we spent many weekends touring Manhattan and other parts of New York.

  From where I stood, I could see the exact tree we’d sat under, just three weeks into our relationship, where we’d had a five-hour conversation that seemed like thirty minutes.

  I took a deep breath, trying to shake the image, wondering if every memory would have her attached in some way for the rest of my life. I scanned the crowd, looking for a red jacket.

  There, near the ferry and tour boat docks. My hands shook, so I stuck them in my pockets and walked forward.

  The man had a presence, I’d give him that. Even with his back turned.

  “Calvin?”

  He turned, his face pleasant, stoic. His eyes held a calmness betrayed only by the fierceness a father has for his child.

  “Luke.” He held out his hand, gave me a hearty shake.

  “It’s a pleasure to meet you.” It was a heavy moment. I was stiff and awkward and making the kind of impression I hoped I wouldn’t.

  “You too,” he said. A mild smile played over his lips, but his eyes scrutinized me. I let it be. A father should do that, I guessed. He relaxed a bit after sizing me up. “Thanks for coming here.”

  “Of course.”

  He looked out over the water. I watched him watch a boat for a moment. “Never been to the big city. Don’t care for it much, but I guess it’s okay to visit.” He pointed. “Never been on one of those tourist boats there.”

  “You know what? Neither have I.”

  He turned to me, grinning like a little boy. “Then let’s go.”

  He insisted he pay, and I wasn’t sure what the custom should be. Being a Carraday, we usually paid for everything, but something told me I should let him, so I did. He pulled out a large, neat roll of cash and plucked two tens out. “I sure enjoy your food here,” he said as we walked aboard. We found a bench near the front. As we sat, I noticed it was difficult for him, like he knew the getting-up part was going to be harder.

  I overestimated the conversation, I guess, because it really didn’t start. Calvin was looking out over the water, seeming to enjoy the tour, as if he might’ve forgotten he called me and asked me to meet him here.

  Apparently nobody told him that in New York, silence is practically a crime.

  I cleared my throat. “When Faith and I were together, I used to think about having kids, and I’d always imagine having a little girl. And inevitably, I’d start thinking about her growing up to date guys and get married . . . and in the end, I’d work myself into a cold sweat with the fear that one day I’d be exactly where you are right now.”

  Calvin didn’t even look at me. He seemed to be enjoying the peace of the water. “I didn’t come here to grill you.”

  “I never touched another woman. Not last night. Or ever.”

  “We don’t have to talk about that.” He was looking at his shoes, and I realized, suddenly, that I might’ve said too much. Or maybe not enough. I wasn’t sure, but Calvin was striking me as a man of few words.

  I, however, had become the man who couldn’t stop babbling. “And the whole time I was with Michov, I had no idea they were breaking the law.” Did he just smirk at me? “I want you to know that.” Stop talking, for the love of all things manly.

  “You know something, Luke,” Calvin began after a long and uncomfortable stretch of silence that I was now certain was intentional, “I don’t know you very well.”

  That’s because I didn’t get to keep spilling my guts like a moron.

  “But as I sit here listening to you, I can’t help but ask myself one question.”

  Now I was watching the water, kind of wishing I could drown myself because this guy had a way of looking right into my soul.

  “If you’re not responsible for anything, how can you be anything?”

  I looked at him, forced myself to, and realized he wasn’t raking me over the coals. That quiet calm that seemed to stir my soul like wind stirs leaves was intended for my good. I was pretty sure this guy was actually rooting for me. Could it be he was cheering me on, after all I’d put his daughter through?

  I marveled at it and must’ve been staring awkwardly at him because his eyes darted back to the water, and I noticed his thumbs rubbing his knuckles like the skin might be dirty.

  “There’s something you should know,” he said, and I braced myself because those words are hardly ever followed by good news. “I didn’t come here for treatment on this cancer.”

  “What?”

  “I’ve had a good run, son, and I’m not going to let them poison me so I can hang on for an extra month or two.” He smiled. “I have someone waiting on me up there,” he said, nodding toward the sky. “I miss her in a way that kept me unanchored to this earth for a very long time.”

  “Then . . . why are you here?”

  “Because my daughter has a husband, and when I’m gone, she’s going to need him.”

  “I want to be there.”

  He looked out toward the city, seemingly mulling his words like he wasn’t quite explaining it right or maybe I was just not getting it.

  “You and Faith, you’re a couple of runners.”

  I started to nod but wondered how he knew we used to run together. Then it struck me . . . he wasn’t talking about our athletic skills. He was talking about our propensity for hightailing it out of difficult situations.

  “The two of you can’t become a family yourselves if you’re always running from the family you already have.”

  That stung, in all the right places. “I’m sorry I didn’t go down to Carolina to meet you. I should’ve called you before we even got married.”

  He put a hand on my shoulder. “I’m not your family. Faith is.”

  “Just tell me where she is.”

  “That time is going to come. But before that, you need to figure out why the music stopped and make sure it keeps playing no matter what kind of noise your life brings in.”

  “I’m not sure I know what that means.”

  “I know. Just let me know when you do.”

  58

  FAITH

  “HI, IT’S ME.”

  I paced the sidewalk outside the hotel, clinging to myself as I turned
away from the snapping north wind.

  The surprise in his voice delighted me. “Hi . . . hey, how are you?”

  “I’ve been better. Needed to hear your voice.”

  “How’s your dad?”

  “You wouldn’t know he’s sick. We’re waiting for him to return from going out to the big city, I guess to do some sightseeing without the two of us.”

  Lee laughed. “Doesn’t surprise me.”

  I weighed my words. And my motivation. Was I running to Lee to get back at Luke? Was I comforted, expecting Lee to take good care of my dad when he returned?

  Here was a man who sent me on to find answers for myself, without regard for himself or his feelings. If only Luke could’ve been that sensitive.

  “You there?”

  “I’m here . . .” I pushed the image of Luke and Maria out of my head. “I found the answers I was looking for.”

  “And?”

  “It wasn’t what I was hoping for, but life throws a lot of curveballs.”

  “Are you okay?”

  “I’ve got to focus on getting Dad better.”

  “Don’t forget about yourself.”

  I chuckled. “If I could just forget about myself, 90 percent of my problems would be solved.” I tried not to shiver and wasn’t sure it was even the wind. “When I get back there, Lee . . . it’ll be for good. I’m staying.”

  He didn’t say anything, I knew out of respect for my situation, but I could practically hear him smiling through the phone.

  “Thanks for letting me work out what I needed to work out.”

  “Give yourself time to heal.”

  “Dad’s brain and my heart. Throw in Olivia’s gallbladder and we’re a mess.”

  Lee cracked up. “Glad to see you haven’t lost your sense of humor.”

  I glanced up to see an old man getting out of a cab, then realized it was my father. My heart dropped at the sight. The cab driver looked worried as he opened the door and grabbed his hand.