Chapter Eighteen
Jo was marshaling her final arguments against the wedding when the doorbell rang. He was early. Taking a deep breath she opened the front door. “You’re right,” Dan said before she could exhale. “We should postpone the wedding.”
It was the last thing Jo had expected to hear and her relief was so overwhelming, she started to laugh. “Thank you. Dan, thank you!” Dragging him inside she peppered his face with kisses. “I was so worried… I mean, I’d even packed a bag to do a runner…” She stopped because his face was drawn and tired. Defeated. Something was terribly wrong.
“What happened?”
He raked a hand through his hair. “I’ve screwed everything up.”
Leading him to the kitchen, she pointed to a chair. “Sit down, I’ll make a cup of tea.”
Instead he went to the window and looked out on the garden, while he explained what had happened with Lewis in a flat voice.
“So you’ll talk to him,” she said quietly, putting the kettle on. “Make him understand how important he is to you. For his own sake, not just because he’s Steve’s son.”
He was still looking out the window and she followed his gaze. Not a breath of wind stirred the trees; it was like looking at a photograph. “Dan?”
“Live big,” he said. When he turned, she could see his self-contempt. “Tell me, Jo, what kind of loser says that? Claire and Lewis are suffering, Ross is goddamn handicapped and Nate…who knows where Nate’s head’s at. And what do I do? Make some hollow vow to honor my dead buddies’ memories by chasing happiness. It’s pathetic.”
“There’s nothing wrong with lighting a beacon in the dark.”
“If I’d been there, I would have been driving. Instead Steve died—the guy with a wife and kid. It should have been me, Jo. I had no dependents.”
“Yes, you did.” Going to him, she gripped his shoulders. “You had me, even if I was just your best friend then. And I don’t care if it’s selfish, I thank God every day that you survived, Dan. And so does your mother and your father and your sisters.”
Removing her hands, he kissed them and brought them to his chest. “I love you,” he said. “So much. But you were right. Part of the reason I’ve been so desperate to get you to the altar is that I want to move forward…get past pain.” Her knuckles ached under the pressure of his grip. “We’ll postpone the wedding until I get my shit together. You deserve better than to be dragged through my grieving process.”
Only Dan would see his vulnerability as weakness. No, not only Dan. She did that, too. That’s what happened when you were stronger than most people. You began to think everything was your responsibility—and your fault.
“To paraphrase my father—” Dan mustered a smile “—sometimes backing off is the right thing to do.”
She stared at him. Dan was a protector. He didn’t think of adversity as something to be avoided. Claire had tried to tell her that but Jo hadn’t wanted to hear it because she was afraid of relying on anyone but herself. The truth was she loved a man who could handle anything her cancer threw at them, who would be strong even when she couldn’t. All she had to do was let him. Fear released its hold on her.
“We’re not postponing the wedding,” she said.
It was his turn to stare. “What?”
“We’re not postponing the wedding.” Dan wanted to be his best for her; it was in his DNA. Jo understood that because it was in hers. But she’d learned something when he’d laid his hand against her scar. I don’t care about perfect. I just care that you’re here.
Pulling her hands free, Jo wrapped her arms around his neck. “I love you,” she said. “And I need you, Dan.” Her laugh was shaky. “God, how long has it taken me to admit that? And I don’t care how you come—whole or broken. Like you don’t care how I come. Because that’s how much we love each other.”
“I don’t want to come to you broken,” he said harshly. “I don’t want to marry you doubting my ability to make you happy. I need to believe I can slay any dragons that come up.”
“I have no doubt you can slay dragons. None.” Releasing him, Jo picked up her bag and went to the door. “I’m due at Pinehill to visit Nan so let’s cut to the chase.” Her mouth lifted in a tiny smile. “I’ll be at the church on Tuesday. All you need to do is decide whether to show up.”
She was halfway out the door before his shock wore off. “Of course I’m going to show up if you still want to go through with it.” He sounded truly appalled. “What the hell kind of guy do you think I am?”
Jo thought about that the rest of the morning. He was a good strong man who found equilibrium in action and instead fate had forced him into a passive role. Destroyed his faith in his ability to be there for the people he loved.
Somehow she had to help him rediscover that faith. Somehow she had to convince him of hers.
Deep down, Dan didn’t believe he deserved to be happy and they weren’t carrying that corrosive lie into their future together. After everything they’d grieved together, that would be the ultimate tragedy.
* * *
Midafternoon Jo drove out to the farm. She tracked Ross to the barn where Dan had set up some weights. “Should you be bench-pressing alone?”
Biceps straining, he finished his reps, dropped the weight bar onto the stand and sat up, breathing heavily. His tank top was drenched with sweat. “I stay under ninety kilos if I’m by myself.”
She handed him the towel draped on a wooden countertop and he wiped his neck.
“You missed our boy,” he commented. “He’s driven Claire and Lewis into town.”
Our boy. It was the first time Ross had acknowledged her as family, the first time he’d ranged himself on her side. All things became possible. “I know,” she admitted. “I set it up with Claire.”
While Ross dried his face, she assessed the rope of muscle across his shoulders. “So tell me, Ice-cream, do you think you’re recovered enough to take down a man weighing…oh, I don’t know…let’s say 179 pounds?”
His eyes appeared over the towel. “He said you’d agreed to the wedding?”
“I have.” Jo perched on the other end of the bench press. “But we have to get him over this crazy idea that somehow he let you all down.”
“So you want me to pound some sense into him? Believe me, if I was fit, I’d try.” He grimaced as he massaged his leg through his sweat pants. “Give me another two months.”
“I haven’t got that kind of time. We’re getting married day after tomorrow and I don’t want this hanging over us.” She hesitated. “I have a plan.”
“I’m listening.”
“I think Dan needs to be reminded that he’s capable of great things when the people he cares about are depending on him,” she began carefully. “When he marries me, I want him to have no doubts that I trust him absolutely with my life.” However long that may be. “And you said you’d help me.”
He stood. “The plan, Jo.”
Taking a deep breath, she told him. As she talked, he hauled off his damp tank top and toweled down. Even greyhound-lean through months in hospital, his frame was still powerful, muscle over bone.
When she finished he said nothing. He could be thinking it over… More likely Ross was contemplating calling for a straitjacket and having her taken away. His expression gave nothing away.
“There’s a high risk of failure.”
“There has to be. Dan won’t buy it unless the stakes are high…and real.”
Draping the towel around his shoulders Ross picked up the discarded tank top and gestured toward the farmhouse.
“And if he doesn’t make it in time, Jo?” Together, they headed across the yard. “It would make things worse, and not just for Dan. You’d probably lose him.”
She was well aware of that. “I believe in him,” she said. “And I’m prepared to stake everything on that faith.”
He was silent until they reached the stoop. “I can’t do it, Jo.”
She struggled to hide her disappointment. “Well, it was a crazy idea.”
Ross grabbed the handrail, favoring his bad leg as he maneuvered the stairs. “Even with the element of surprise, I’m not fit enough to overpower Dan.”
“No. I guess not.”
Reaching the top, Ross looked down at her. “That’s why we’ll need drugs.”
* * *
A shopping mall was a place Dan normally avoided, but Jo was right. He had to make his peace with Lewis, so when Claire suggested a quick coffee before he headed to the farm he forced himself to say yes.
She chose a table right in the middle of the food court, which intensified his uneasiness. No soldier liked to sit exposed on all sides. And what was it with these places and their acoustics? Chatter bounced off the walls and floors, amplified and echoed around the domed atrium.
Little kids raced between the inside playground and formica tables, strollers blocked throughways and retirees paused for leisurely conversations outside doorways.
What the hell were these people thinking?
While Claire and Lewis found a seat, he queued to order coffees and a chocolate thickshake and thought about Jo. She’d blindsided him this morning by doing a U-turn on the wedding, and right now Dan didn’t know how he felt about it.
No, that wasn’t true.
He was gut-plungingly, head-swimmingly relieved she still loved him—and simultaneously terrified of letting her down. His problem wasn’t resolved, he hadn’t mastered the churning emotions that kept exhausting his reserves. And that scared Dan, it scared him to death. But for Jo’s sake he’d fake it.
Out of the corner of his eye he watched Claire talking intently to a sullen Lewis. Even unable to hear, he knew what she was saying. Make an effort…be nice…. Pretend we’re okay.
Is that how life was for them all now? Pretending?
Lewis’s face got darker and darker, it didn’t surprise Dan when he flung himself out of his seat and walked off to the men’s room, where his mother couldn’t follow.
“Teenagers,” she said when Dan put down the tray. “I think you’ll be glad to see the back of us.”
They were staying with Pat tonight so this was his last chance to get this right.
“Not as glad as you’ll be to see the back of me, I’m thinking.”
Her eyes widened. “Of course not, I—”
“Claire, let’s start being honest with each other.” Maybe he’d screw this up but Dan was sick of tiptoeing around the truth. “Let me get Lewis. He needs to hear this, too.”
The teen was outside the men’s room leaning against the wall, marking time. “I’ve had enough of this,” Dan said. “Come with me.”
At the table, Lewis changed chairs to sit next to Claire. It was a poignant gesture, revealing his apprehension.
Dan sat opposite. “Lewis, you were right this morning,” he said. “I do feel sorry for you. And having you visit with your Mum hurts like hell.” Claire’s arm crept around her son’s rigid shoulders. “The thing is—” Dan kept his attention fixed on the boy’s face “—I want to make your pain go away and I can’t and that makes me feel helpless. And we guys don’t like feeling helpless, do we?”
Lewis jerked his head no.
“Nate and Ross and me, we’re missing your dad and Uncle Lee, too, and that means we’re not doing such a great job of being what you need right now. But we love you and your mom, you’re our family and always will be. I want to help you through this, mate, but you’ll have to tell me how… Will you do that for me?”
“I guess,” he mumbled.
Dan looked at Claire. “When I know, you’ll know,” she said hoarsely. “But…keep calling in the meantime.”
He smiled at her. “You got it.”
“I might go get a muffin,” she said shakily. “I’m hungry. Anyone else want one?”
“Sounds good,” said Dan. “Lewis?”
“Nah, I’m not hungry.”
“But thanks, Mom,” Claire prompted.
Lewis rolled his eyes. “Thanks, Mom.”
When she had left, the boy looked at Dan. “Do you think that maybe I could come stay sometimes during school holidays, with you and Jo? Help on the farm like you and Dad did for Uncle Herman?” He hesitated. “Sometimes Mum and I need time apart.”
“We’d love to have you as long as Claire agrees. But, Lewis, you also need to try harder with your mom. Being sad isn’t an excuse for being difficult.”
“I know,” Lewis said, “but she can’t seem to help it.”
Fortunately he was busy unwrapping the straw for his thickshake and didn’t see Dan raise his eyebrows. Typical bloody teenager, Dan thought, never my fault. “So make allowances for her,” he suggested drily. At least he could start smoothing out some of the rough edges when the boy came to stay. His spirits lifted a fraction. Finally, something practical he could do for Claire.
“Yeah, I guess.” Lewis punched the straw through the plastic lid. “Um, Dan, will you tell me the truth about something?”
“Yes.” It would always be the truth now, however painful.
“Mom told me Dad died right away.” Lewis’s throat convulsed as he looked up. “Did she make that up to make me feel better?”
Dan managed not to flinch. “Nate was with Steve and he said your dad died instantly.” An inconsistency started niggling at the back of his mind.
“You feel bad because you weren’t there, don’t you?” The question refocussed his attention on Lewis. The teen shrugged. “I heard Ross and Mum talking.”
The truth, he reminded himself. However painful. “Yeah, Lewis, I do.”
Lewis picked up his drink and took a sip, set it down. Eyes downcast he said, “It’s hard being the one left behind, isn’t it?”
For a few seconds, Dan couldn’t move, then he reached across the table and squeezed the boy’s shoulder. “That’s why we all have to look after one another.”
“Yeah.” In silence they watched the toddlers riot, teenage girls preen, harassed mothers gulp their caffeine fixes and well-dressed retirees pour tea. “Dan?”
“Yeah, mate.” He didn’t know how much more of this heartrending honesty he could take.
“I’m real glad you didn’t die, too.”