Midnight Run (12 page)

Her mother was silent for a moment, looking
out at the yard, her eyes squinting in the hazy morning light. “I
know. But I haven’t told you enough how wonderful you are, Nora
Jane. You are my pride and joy, and that’ll always be the
truth.”

Nora choked up, but she forced a smile as the
station wagon pulled into view. “I love you, too, Mom.”

The drive to the hospital was silent, and
Nora noticed that her dad’s fingers were white on the steering
wheel.
Are we all more nervous than anyone’s letting on?
She
wondered, pushing her glassed up her nose three times before she
forced herself to hold her hands in her lap. Instead, she fiddled
with her phone, sending another text to Carl before she tried to
distract herself by looking at the weather forecast.

When they pulled up to the hospital, her mom
insisted on waiting until they parked the car, even though Nora’s
dad wanted to drop her off at the entrance. He didn’t argue, and
the family walked through the automatic doors together.

Nora caught a glimpse of familiar blue hair
as soon as they were inside, and she stared at Carl stupidly. He
beelined for them, wrapping Nora’s mom into a tight hug.

She laughed and patted him on the back. “This
is a surprise! We haven’t seen you in ages!”

Carl smiled as he released her. “Wanted to be
here with you all today,” he said, slipping an arm around Nora.
“Like I told your girl here, you’re like family to me.”

Nora gave him a quick squeeze, and when her
parents were occupied with checking in, she whispered, “What about
Reggie?”

Carl shook his head, but his eyes were happy
and bright. “Right now, girl, I’m all about you.”

“Thank you,” she whispered, tears welling up
in her eyes. “I didn’t realize how scared I was until I saw
you.”

Carl looked down at her. “Your mom is one
tough lady, Nora. Everything is going to be okay.”

Kingston had more fun
than he cared to admit chasing his nephews around the yard that
weekend, but it wasn’t as easy to get Rachel to open up as he’d
hoped. He’d thought being there might make a difference, but she
was still tight-lipped on Friday night when he brought up Mark
after the boys had gone to bed.

The next night, he decided to try a little
harder. Taking over the bedtime routine from his sister, he
directed her to take a bath and have a glass of wine.

Instead of protesting like he’d expected,
she’d patted his cheek and given him a half-smile. “I can’t
remember the last time I did something like that.”

He scooped Blake up and dangled him upside
down for a minute. “Go for it. I’ll take care of these
hoodlums.”

Putting the boys to bed was harder than
Kingston had expected, but he managed, and by the time they were
sleeping soundly, Rachel had emerged, dressed in yoga pants and a
loose T-shirt and still carrying her glass of wine. Kingston
grabbed the bottle and joined her on the couch with his own
glass.

“So,” he began, “what’s the news with you and
Mark?”

She frowned and took a swallow. “We’ve
started the paperwork process. Luckily it’s a no-fault state; I’d
hate to think what kind of fight would ensue trying to pin the
blame on one or the other of us for this mess.”

Kingston hesitated. “Is it his fault?”

She raised an eyebrow. “Who’s side are you
on?”

He lifted his hands quickly. “I just…I’m
trying to figure out what happened. You guys always seemed so
good.”

She shrugged, but tears filled her eyes.
“Good can go bad, I guess.”

“Is there somebody else?”

“For me?” Rachel shook her head. “No. Not
yet, anyway. But I’m not going to stay off the market
forever…unless you think I should?”

Kingston was surprised; Rachel rarely asked
his advice on anything. “I think you need to do whatever feels
right.”

She took another swallow of wine. “It’s just
so hard, you know? It’s like all these years, this whole life has
been a lie. And now I don’t know what’s real anymore.”

“The boys are real. And you’re real,
Raye.”

She leaned her head on his shoulder.
“Sometimes, I wish it were just a dream.”

“I wish I could do something.”

She glanced up at him. “I appreciate you
coming out here,” she said slowly, her eyes searching his, “but
I’ve gotta tell you, King, I’ve got a feeling you aren’t just here
for me.”

He refilled his glass. “What do you
mean?”

“Come on. You spontaneously decide to jet
back to Texas for a weekend, just to see me and the boys?” She
raised her eyebrow at him. “What are you running from; work or a
woman?”

Kingston took a huge gulp of his wine, barely
tasting it. “You know I love my job.”

“Then it’s a woman.” Rachel was quiet for a
moment. “Is she good enough for you, little brother?”

He shook his head ruefully. “Doesn’t even
know I exist.” He paused, considering how much to share with his
sister. “And then there’s this other girl…”

Rachel sat up, crossing her legs underneath
her as she turned to face him. “Okay. Spill. Now.”

Kingston laughed. “That’s what it takes to
perk you up? My girl problems?”

“Hush. Maybe I can help.”

He looked down at his wineglass. “The first
girl, the one who doesn’t know I exist, well, she’s a barista.”

“Coffee can be good,” Rachel offered. “Easy
conversation starter.”

Kingston smiled. “We’ve had a few
conversations here and there, but, well, I can’t quite bring myself
to ask her name. What if she thinks I’m some kind of creepy stalker
customer?”

Rachel eyed him critically. “Are you being a
creepy stalker customer?”

He hung his head. “Yeah,” he admitted. “At
least, until this week; I pretty much stopped going to the coffee
shop.”

“How come?”

“Because—“ he stopped himself before he told
her that her divorce was one of the things that was making him
second guess his attraction to PB. “Just because I wanted a break,
I guess,” he finished lamely.

“Okay. So what about girl number two? Please
tell me you at least know this one’s name.”

Kingston grinned despite himself. “Yeah. Her
name is Nora.” He paused, remembering the last run he’d been on
before heading to Texas. “She’s in my running group.”

“Something in common,” his sister quipped.
“Sounds promising. What do you like about her?”

“Well,” he rubbed the back of his neck, “I
think I first noticed her because she reminded me of PB.”

“What?”

He flushed. “I’ve taken to calling the coffee
girl PB…you know, ‘pretty barista’.”

His sister burst out laughing. “You are
pathetic, you know that?”

Kingston shrugged, but then he cracked a
smile. “It’s pretty stupid, isn’t it?”

She giggled. “Yeah, but then again, it’s also
kind of sweet. So, Nora reminds you of the other girl, who you
haven’t talked to…but you’ve talked to Nora, I’m guessing?”

He nodded. “We chat after the runs some
nights.”

Rachel studied his face. “What’s holding you
back?”

“What, other than the fact that I can’t
decide which of them I’m hung up on?”

Rachel rolled her eyes. “Yes, other than
that. Why aren’t you just going for one of them?”

Kingston shrugged. “I don’t know how long
I’ll be at the New York office,” he said, searching for a plausible
excuse for his fear. “There’s no reason to start something,
right?”

Rachel shook her head and drained her wine
glass. “Wrong. There’s no reason to waste any time wondering,” she
said, her eyes serious and sad. “Even if it doesn’t work out, you
can’t just pretend you aren’t lonely.”

“But is it worth it at the other end? The
pain, I mean?” He asked, studying her face.

She hesitated for a moment, but then she
nodded. “I wouldn’t trade a minute of it. Well, I’d sure as hell
trade this divorce if I could, but I can’t. But when it was good,
it was really good.” She interlaced her fingers through Kingston’s
and gave a gentle squeeze. “You should go for it.”

“Which one?”

“Does it matter? Just pick the girl you can’t
stop thinking about, and take a chance. The worst that can happen
is she’ll say no, and then at least you’ll know, right?”

Kingston nodded, thinking about it. “Maybe
I’ll have a cup of coffee when I get back to New York,” he said
thoughtfully.

Rachel grinned. “Go get her, tiger. Just make
sure you find out her name before you ask her to marry you!”

Everything was not
okay.

Nora listened, numbly, as the doctor
explained that statistically, three percent of every open heart
surgery led to a stroke, but that only one percent of all the
surgeries resulted in death on the operating table. The surgeon’s
eyes were rimmed with red, and the woman sat with Nora and her dad
a long time, but Nora barely noticed. Finally, the doctor got to
her feet with a sigh and told them to take as much time as they
needed in the windowless, private room before she turned and headed
back into the hospital.

Alone with her dad, Nora sank back in the
hard chair and squeezed her eyes shut.
This isn’t happening. I
must be asleep.
But when her eyes fluttered open, the first
thing she saw was her father’s hunched form beside her. His
shoulders were drawn up to his ears, and he was leaning forward,
staring blankly at his clasped hands.

Nora fiddled with the small diamond ring on
her right hand. Just before going into surgery, her mom had slipped
off her wedding ring and handed it to Nora. “Keep this safe for me,
sweetie,” she’d whispered with a smile and a quick hug. Now, Nora
turned the band again and again, not knowing what else to do. She
glanced at her dad again, hoping he would take charge of the
situation, but he looked like an empty shell, and Nora realized
they would both probably sit there forever if one of them didn’t
say something.

Taking a deep breath, Nora gently touched her
dad’s hand. He clasped his fingers through hers without looking at
her. “Daddy,” she finally said, “we need to take care of
things.”

He nodded slowly, his eyes still staring at
nothing. “Marigolds.”

Nora looked at him. “What?”

Her dad cleared his throat and finally lifted
his eyes to her face. “She loved marigolds. We should—we should
make sure there are some at the funeral.” His face scrunched up,
and silent tears began to stream down his cheeks. Nora’s heart
cracked as she leaned forward to hug him, but she didn’t cry.
I
can’t breakdown yet
, she thought as she clung to her father.
He needs me to keep it together.

Carl was waiting for them in the hallway
outside the private room, and when Nora opened her mouth, he just
shook his head and pulled her into a rough hug. She clung to him
for a second, but then she glanced back at her dad. His tears had
stopped, but he still looked hollowed out, his vacant eyes drifting
lazily around the busy hospital without seeing anything. “Dad,” she
said, “let’s go home.”

***

The next few days passed in a blur of condolence
cards and casseroles. It seemed like everyone in town had stopped
by with something for them to eat, and Nora dished everything into
single serving containers, labeled it all, and froze most of it.
At least Dad won’t starve
, she thought grimly as she
portioned off another pan of lasagna.

There were other things to be dealt with,
too, and Nora handled most of them. She didn’t want to bother her
dad, and since his shell-shocked expression hadn’t really changed
after they left the hospital, a part of her worried that asking him
for help would cause him even more pain. Carl stuck around, and
Nora was grateful for his help. She’d never realized how much there
was to do to plan for a funeral before.

Funeral
. It was such a grim word, such
a depressing word. Nora wished they were Irish; then they could
just call it a wake and be done with it.
Don’t the Irish
celebrate with food and stories, rather than organ music and a
melancholy viewing?
Still, Nora wasn’t about to rock the boat;
she’d found her mom’s will in the filing cabinet in the den, and
Nora was determined to follow her requests to the letter. That
meant an open casket viewing, followed by a funeral and a walk to
the grave site the next day.

Carl was the one who suggested she email the
running group and ask them to come, but Nora didn’t want to impose.
Still, she emailed Lynne and let her know what had happened, giving
her the date and place of the funeral, but she wasn’t really
expecting more than a couple of condolence notes from the group.
That Friday morning, Nora was surprised to see a clump of familiar
faces dressed in somber colors waiting outside the doors to the
funeral home when she pulled up with her dad and Carl. Kingston was
there, Nora noticed, but even the sight of his face didn’t pierce
her numbness.

Lynne came up to her and opened her arms, and
Nora gave the woman a quick hug. “I didn’t expect you all to make
the trip; thank you.”

Lynne nodded. “This isn’t something you
should have to deal with alone.”

Tears welled up in Nora’s eyes for the first
time since her mother’s death, and she took a deep breath, forcing
herself to keep it together just a little bit longer. “It means a
lot to me.”

“You’d do the same for any of us.”

That simple statement left Nora speechless.
Would I?
She thought as she hugged each of the runners as
they filed into seats.
Yes, I think I would. That’s what friends
do, isn’t it?

Kingston was at the back of the line, and
Nora looked at the floor for a moment before she lifted her eyes to
his. Her heart started to thump a little faster, and Nora tried to
ignore the impulse to throw her arms around him and never let go.
Instead, she reached up and gave him a quick hug, but when she
pulled away, his expression looked tense. Before she could say
anything, Carl appeared at her side and tugged on her hand. She
glanced at the front of the room and realized the minister was
about to begin, and with an apologetic smile at Kingston, she
followed Carl to the empty chairs waiting beside her dad in the
first row.