Chapter 20

Grace opened her eyes an hour or two later—there was really no concept of time in a hospital—when the door to her room opened. For the first time that day, she smiled.

“Hey, there!” Krista carried a vase of flowers and set them on Grace’s nightstand. “I heard you were awake. How’re you feeling?”

Grace grimaced as she pushed herself up on the bed. “Like I’ve been hit by a train.”

“Or just the side of a boat.” Krista sat in the chair beside Grace.

Grace shook her head. “Speaking of which, I’m so sorry. I asked you guys to help me with the tournament and then I wasn’t even there.”

“Hold up.” Krista raised a hand. “Are you seriously apologizing for getting a concussion and breaking your collarbone?”

Grace laughed, then winced at the pain in her head. No quick movements, the doctor had advised.

“Easy there,” Krista said, eyes darkening.

“I’m fine.”

“You could’ve drowned out there, you know. We heard the noise of you hitting the boat, but if we hadn’t—” Krista shuddered. “I don’t even want to think about it.”

“Who saved me?”

“Abby.” Krista nodded. “Now you’re indebted to her for life. Just so you know.”

Grace was about to laugh again and caught herself. The concussion was still causing her a monster headache. “Thank you.”

Krista’s smile fell sharply. “Don’t thank us. We didn’t win the tournament. We came in third place.” Her eyes slanted sympathetically. “We caught a really great fish, though. A crazy good fish, but—”

“Doesn’t matter.” Grace swallowed. “It was a stupid thing to do anyway.” Her voice shook. She’d never been a crier, and yet all she seemed to do was resist her waterworks these days.

“We can find another way to buy back the Beatrice. I promise. I’ve already been scheming on ways. Maybe we could start a GoFundMe page online.”

Grace shook her head. “Buying back the Beatrice was a bad idea. It was never going to fix things between the Donners and the Sawyers. Jack was right.” Laughter spilled out of Grace’s mouth, even as she fought her rising emotion. “It would take a lot more than a boat to make things right. Maybe things will never be made right.”

“Did something happen?” Krista asked, slumping in the visitor’s chair. “I mean, I know you and Jack argued before your accident, but he was worried sick about you yesterday.”

Grace sniffled. “I know. Everyone was. I had no idea that”—she swallowed—“you guys cared so much.”

“Of course we care. You’re one of my best friends in Blushing Bay.”

“I just realized that I have a lot to be thankful for. I have friends and family. Maybe…”

“What?” Krista asked when Grace paused too long.

“Maybe it’s too much for me to expect that I can have it all. Friends, family, and a man who loves me, too.”

Krista patted Grace’s forearm. “He might not have said it yet, but Jack loves you. There’s no doubt in my mind.”

“He hates my mother, though. Hates her, Krista. They fought over my bed like a couple of kids.”

“I know. I witnessed it.”

“I just…I shouldn’t have to choose one over the other. Mom is the only family I have in this world. If he wants me, he gets my mom, too. Jack will never be okay with that. Or the rest of his family for that matter.” A single tear escaped and fell on Grace’s cheek. She quickly swiped it away with her good arm. “And I understand. I really do. What my mom did was horrible. Those things belonged to their mother. They were special and my mom just sold them.” Grace shook her head. “Buying back the Beatrice would’ve returned something that was theirs, but it wouldn’t have changed the past.”

Krista reached for Grace’s hand. “I’m sorry.”

Grace rolled her lips together. She could forgive her mom’s mistakes because she loved her. Jack would never be able to forgive those mistakes, though. “I’m ending things with Jack.”

“What? You’re breaking up with him?” Krista asked. “Lots of guys don’t get along with their mother-in-law. It’s probably more common than not.”

“Yeah, but hating their mother-in-law is different. And part of Jack will probably always wonder if I’m just like her. I don’t want that over my head.” Grace blew out a ragged breath. “Remember in school when you could just have your friend break up with a guy for you?”

Krista’s mouth dropped open. “I love you, honey, but I can’t dump your boyfriend for you.”

Grace nodded. “It was worth a try…And I love you, too.”

Two days later, Grace ditched her hospital gown for a pair of jeans and a T-shirt that Krista had swiped from her apartment. She pulled her hair back in a ponytail, desperate to get home and wash it in her own hot shower. Just thinking about it made her all the more eager to get the discharge paperwork done and be on her way.

“You have a head injury, so you need to continue taking things easy,” Dr. Paschall warned. “No strenuous exercise.” He cleared his throat, “Of any kind.”

Grace’s cheeks burned. “Got it.”

“And you need to keep the stress levels down. Job stress, personal stress, all of it.”

Grace nodded. Keeping her stress at bay meant keeping her mom and Jack apart. She’d been thinking about that over the last two days. She couldn’t be with a man who hated her mother the way Jack did. It would never work. As much as she disliked the thought of doing so, the only thing to do was break things off. “When can I return to work?” she asked, tears suddenly threatening behind her eyes.

“Give it a week.”

“Got it.” A week off from work would be best. She and Jack would both need a little space, because saying goodbye was going to hurt more than her broken collarbone—for her at least. She needed to go ahead and tell him, quick like pulling off a Band-Aid. Then they could start healing, and hopefully remain friends.

Dr. Paschall signed the chart in his hand. “All right then. You’re officially discharged, Ms. Donner. Do you have someone to drive you home?”

“That would be me.” Joey stepped through the door. “Krista told me I needed to give our captain a ride.”

Grace grinned. “You’ll never make any money as a cabbie if you keep giving free rides.”

Joey waved a hand. “You’d be surprised. Come on, Cap.”

Dr. Paschall exited as Grace grabbed her things.

“You have to sit in that wheelchair on the way out. It’s mandatory,” Joey told her.

“Like hell,” she said, walking past the chair.

“Well, at least let me hold your bags for you.”

“Grace?”

She was a few steps beyond room 211, on her way to the elevator, when Jack’s voice caused her to pause. She smoothed her hair back as she turned and gave him a wobbly smile. Her heart skipped at just the sight of him, the way it always had. That would never change.

“What’s going on?” Jack asked, looking between her and Joey. Not that he would ever think she and Joey were a concern.

“I, um, just got discharged.”

“I know. I came to drive you home,” Jack said.

“You don’t have to…How did you know?”

“Not because you told me,” Jack said. “I asked the nurse last night. You were sleeping when I came to visit. The nurse said you were scheduled for discharge this morning. Why didn’t you call me instead of Joey?” He looked beyond her at Krista’s brother.

“Krista asked Joey for me. And I didn’t want to inconvenience you, so…”

Jack pulled out his wallet and handed Joey a twenty. “I got it, man. Thanks for your time.”

Joey frowned. “Grace is a friend, not a client. I don’t charge friends or family.”

Jack continued to hold the money out. “Of course. But you drove all the way here.”

“It’s not a problem. Grace? What do you want me to do?” Joey asked.

Stress pinged between her heart and the spot where Grace had hit her head on the boat. She’d just promised Dr. Paschall she’d avoid stress. “I’ll ride with Jack, Joey. I need to talk to him anyway.”

Joey nodded. “Sure. Call if you need me.”

“I will.”

Joey walked off and took the stairs while Jack and Grace headed for the elevators.

“What was that about?” Jack asked.

Tension pulled between her temples. If she wanted to answer that question honestly, she’d have to tell him everything, right here, right now. She’d have to rip the Band-Aid off.

The elevator doors shut behind them, leaving them alone.

“Jack, we need to talk.” Her body started to shake as she opened the conversation that she’d been dreading.

“Nothing good has ever come from someone saying those four words.”

She swallowed. “You and I can’t continue.”

“What are you talking about?” He tried to pull her to him, but she tugged her body away. She couldn’t be comforted by him. It was too easy to let herself melt into his arms, because that’s the only place she wanted to be. In his arms was the place she felt most at home, and just like when she was fifteen years old, she suddenly felt uprooted, evicted, barred from that place.

“You hate my mother. And like a fool, I thought I could change that. But I was wrong. You both fought like two-year-olds over my bed while I was trying to get better. I mean, that should’ve brought you two closer. If my almost dying didn’t unite you, nothing will.”

Her competing emotions vibrated through her body. She was angry. Frustrated. Sad. Every bad emotion that Dr. Paschall had told her to avoid was funneling into a monster hurricane inside her.

“I have to choose my mother. She needs me right now and…”

Oh, God. Why was this so hard?

Because she loved him. Some part of her had always loved Jack Sawyer.

“Grace, you need to take a couple of deep breaths. You just had a horrible couple days. I get why you’d be upset.”

The elevator door pinged open.

They stepped out, but Grace continued talking, afraid that if she let herself second-guess, she’d end up taking Jack home with her tonight. “You blamed everything on my mother, Jack, when the truth is, I was in that hospital bed because of you. My mother asked me to help fix her wrongs. The reason I wanted to do that so badly, though, is because I knew you and I could never be together if I didn’t. And I wanted to be with you. There’s nothing I’ve wanted more since I was fifteen.”

He stared at her.

Grace guessed that if she were to look around, she’d see at least half a dozen others staring at her in the hospital lobby, too. “That’s not how it works, though. I shouldn’t have to do something to make it work, Jack.” She took a retreating step and dared to glance around the room.

Joey was standing there. He’d taken the stairs and must have gotten sidetracked from leaving immediately. She lifted her bag from Jack’s hand with her right arm. “Goodbye, Jack.” Turning, she headed toward Joey before Jack could say anything. Really, there was nothing else to say. He couldn’t argue with her because it was all true and he knew it.

So did she, and it was shattering her heart.

Joey took her bag, but she still felt heavy. Forget the shower, she just wanted to go home to bed and sleep for a week.

Jack wanted to punch something. Apparently, the something or someone who needed punching, though, was himself.

At least he’d be alone when he got home. Tristan was spending the night in his new RV.

Pulling into his driveway, Jack cursed. He wouldn’t get to be alone. His brother Sam was sitting in his truck, waiting for him.

“Who called you?” Jack asked.

“Noah. Krista called him after Grace called her.”

Jack cursed again. “Don’t people in this town have better things to talk about?” Jack pushed his hands on his hips and turned to Sam. “If I asked you to, would you punch me?”

Sam stepped up beside him, seeming to actually consider the question. “No, I wouldn’t.”

Jack nodded. “I’ve got beer. Want one?”

“I’d love one.”

“So it’s your fault?” Sam asked, popping the tab on beer number one as they sat in Jack’s living room.

Jack leaned back on the couch and propped one foot atop his opposite knee. He took a long pull from his beer. “She’s right. I can’t get along with Tammy.” He looked at his brother. “I just can’t. Grace made dinner the other night for both of us and I could barely stand to sit there. I’ve always considered myself a forgiving guy, but Tammy Donner sold off our mother’s things.” The muscles in his jaw ticked. “How did that woman ever have a daughter as good as Grace?”

Sam shrugged. “No clue.”

Sam and Jack had commiserated over beer after Abby had walked out, too.

“So does that make this my fault then?” Jack asked. Because the way he saw it, it was just one more casualty of Tammy’s, and yet another reason to never want to see his ex-stepmother’s face again.

“I don’t like the woman, either,” Sam said. “Mom’s ring should’ve gone to Abby when I asked her to marry me.”

Jack slid a hand through his hair. “Grace says her mother’s changed. Apparently, Tammy regrets everything, but some things just can’t be forgotten.”

Sam nodded. “I know that all too well, brother. I’d give my left nut if Abby would forget the last two years of our marriage. But then I’d have to forget how she gave up on us so easy. Life’s a chain of things you wish you could forget.”

Jack stared at his brother. “Since when did you turn into a big philosopher?”

Sam laughed. “The more hard hits life throws you, the wiser you become.”

Jack tipped his head back and finished off his first beer, then got up to go get his second. “I should be the wisest man on earth, in that case.” He dipped into his fridge. “What about the more beers you consume?”

“What’s the opposite of wiser?” Sam asked.

“Dumber, I think. Want another?”

“Sure,” Sam said.

After four beers, the two stared silently at some game on the TV. Neither liked organized sports. They made random comments at the screen, but Jack’s thoughts were consumed with Grace. She was right. The thing between them couldn’t work. He’d thought it could. He thought he could just avoid her mother forever.

Forever.

That’s what he’d started envisioning with Grace. Man, he should be good at losing the people he loved by now, but it hurt just as bad as it ever did. The funny thing about it was that his mother and Chris were dead. Losing them wasn’t optional. But Grace was alive and well in Blushing Bay. He could jump into his truck right now—if he hadn’t just consumed two extra beers—knock on her door, wrap his arms around her, and kiss her senseless.

But that wasn’t an option, either.

He closed his eyes with the blur of the television announcer lulling in the background. “The spare room is yours.”

“Thanks, bro,” Sam said.

Jack should’ve been thanking him. Otherwise, he would have probably drunk a lot more and tomorrow’s hangover would be debilitating. Jack got up and headed down the hall to his bed. “See you in the morning,” he called behind him, hoping that he’d be able to sleep tonight.

“Watch your step, Mom,” Grace said, helping her mother into her car the next week. They’d just wrapped up her mother’s follow-up visit with a specialist outside of town.

Grace shut the door behind her mother and climbed behind the wheel.

“I’m such an inconvenience to you. Mrs. Smith said I could hire an aide to shuttle me around to these visits. Or I could call that cabbie friend of yours.”

Grace started the car, ignoring the conversation. They’d already had it way too many times. “The doctor visit went well, I think. It’s a relief to hear that your new medication is helping.”

Her mother seemed to ignore her as well. They really were a lot alike, which made Grace more proud than not.

“That cabbie friend of yours is single, right?” her mother asked.

Grace glanced over, concern sweeping through her. Dementia was a later symptom of Parkinson’s, but her mother’s memory was usually sharp. “He’s Krista’s brother, Mom. You remember Joey.”

“Ah, yes. He’s a very nice young man if memory serves me correctly.”

“I’m not looking for a man at the moment.” Or ever again if the way she felt right now was any indication.

Her mother clutched her handbag in her lap a little tighter. “You should’ve chosen Jack over me. He made you happy.”

“I shouldn’t have to choose between you and anyone, period. That’s not how it works.” Grace glanced over at her mom while she drove. “And you deserve to be chosen, Mom.” She returned her eyes to the road. “You’ve made mistakes, but no one’s perfect. So stop playing the part of the undeserving parent. It’s unbecoming.”

Her mother laughed. “I thought I ruined your life.”

Grace rolled her eyes. “I was fifteen when I said that. Are you ever going to let me forget?”

“No,” her mother said flatly. “But I have a deal for you. I’ll stop being the undeserving parent if you’ll stop playing my martyred daughter.”

“I don’t play the martyr.” Grace shook her head.

“You gave up college because of me.”

“Because you stole the college fund that Grandma left me.”

Her mother tsked. “You could’ve gotten a student loan. A scholarship, even. Instead, you resigned yourself to work at a bar for two-plus years and spend all your time and money on me. If that’s not a martyr, I don’t know what is.”

“I did that because you’re sick, Mom. What was I supposed to do? Leave you out in the cold and live it up?”

“Some might.”

They pulled up to a stoplight long enough for Grace to look over at her mother and give her the once-over. “I’m not a martyr.”

“Yeah? When was the last time you did something selfish, just for you?”

Grace thought for a long moment. Jack had been her last selfish adventure. She’d known deep down that she shouldn’t let herself go with him, but she’d done it anyway. And then she’d lost him.

“That’s what I thought,” her mother said, interrupting her thoughts. “Here’s the deal. I’ll stop being the undeserving parent if you go after something just for you. You’re so worried about turning out like me that you’ve turned into the opposite of me. You haven’t even bought yourself something nice in forever.”

The light changed from red to green and Grace started driving again. “I can’t afford to go on a shopping spree, Mom. You know that.”

“You can now. This new job with the Sawyers pays you more. You don’t have to go wild. You don’t even have to spend a dime. Just do something for yourself, Gracie. Something nice just for you.”

Grace considered the thought while she drove back into Blushing Bay. Her mother was kind of right. She didn’t do things for herself. She maybe even prided herself a little on not doing things to make herself happy. “I don’t even know what I would do,” she admitted to her mom as she turned into Mrs. Smith’s driveway. “All I’ve wanted for so long is just to pay the bills and feed us.”

“So you have something to think about. Maybe that’ll take your mind off of Jack for a little while.”

Jack. She could use a distraction from him right now. Getting over him was proving to be even harder than it’d been the first time—and she wasn’t sure she’d ever fully gotten over him then.

“Help me out of the car, will you?” her mom said.

“Sure.” Grace ran around and opened the door for her mother, then helped her to the porch using her unslinged arm as a guide.

“These stairs are becoming my worst nightmare.” Her mother struggled to bend her stiff knees to navigate up the set of five steps.

“You won’t be able to manage these stairs for much longer. We should—”

“Stop right there.” Her mother held out a hand. “You’re doing it again. I am a big girl. I’ll handle my own problems. Right now you need to go figure out what you want for yourself.”

“I’m not going to stop helping you,” Grace said, as her mom reached the top step.

“I know. You’re a good daughter. Now come inside and have a cup of tea with me. Mrs. Smith makes the best tea.”

“That’s the first time I’ve heard you compliment Mrs. Smith,” Grace whispered, in case the older woman was overhearing.

“She’s growing on me. We’re good for each other.”

“That’s great, Mom.”

Now Grace needed to take her mother’s advice and figure out what was good for her. And how she was ever going to get over Jack Sawyer.