White-hot anger bubbled up from Jack’s gut. He sure as hell didn’t want her to see him this way, all the proof she needed that he was too obsessed. Too driven. She’d find some way to blame the stroke on his work. She might not say “I told you so,” but he would be able to spot it in her face.
He brought his gaze back to Hank. “Tell her…come back later.”
“Can’t do that, bud. She’s on her morning break and she’s damn determined. You know what Anne’s like when she’s determined.”
Yeah, he knew what she was like. He’d lived with her long enough to know that when she had her mind set on something, she fought like a champion welterweight to get what she wanted. Okay, so he’d let her come in. Let her get her grins seeing him lying here like a limp fish. Then he’d tell her thanks for stopping by, now leave.
“Okay.” He sounded like a damn bullfrog, a drunk one, but this thing hadn’t completely robbed him of his speech. At least he had that much left.
Hank slipped the chart off the table and tapped it twice on the bed rail. “Okay. I’ll get her. I’ll drop by later when I’m making my evening rounds.”
“G-great.” Just great.
Hank strode out of the room, leaving Jack alone to face his past. And when she walked in the door, he realized he couldn’t run from the inevitable. She was dressed in her standard floral blue scrubs, a stethoscope draped around her neck. She’d cut her hair to her shoulders. He liked it better longer, not that his opinion mattered anymore.
Annie moved to the end of his bed and tried to smile. She’d never been good at hiding her emotions, and right now he could tell she was distressed. Hell, he must look worse than he thought.
She brushed back her gold-brown hair with one hand and said, “Hi.”
He focused on her face. Her wary blue eyes held a cast of some unnamed emotion. Probably pity. He didn’t like pity. “Nice weather…we’re having, huh?”
She moved a bit closer and gave him a once-over. “You look better than the last time I saw you. So how are you feeling?”
“Like c-crap.”
She raised a hand to her throat. “Well, that’s to be expected for a while.”
Enough of the small talk. He preferred to go back to sleep. Escape. Forget this nightmare. “Wh-what do you want?”
She looked surprised, maybe hurt. “I wanted to see how you’re doing. See if you’re up for visitors.”
“You’re here. You’ve seen me. You can…g-go.”
“I meant Katie.”
God, he didn’t want Katie coming here, seeing him helpless and wasted. “I don’t w-want…” He tried to calm down, but he almost welcomed the feeling of animosity. At least it kept him from thinking about his situation. “No. Not a good idea. For her to be here.”
“She’s scared, Jack. I had to tell her something. I think if she sees you’re okay, then she’ll be less worried.”
“I’m n-not okay.” Damn his stammering.
Anne stepped to the side of the bed. and laid a hand on his dead appendage. He couldn’t even yank it back, away from her charity. All he could do was stare at their joined hands and hope she took the hint. Finally she pulled away.
She started pacing, her favorite pastime when her nerves got the best of her. “Look, Jack, we have a few things to discuss.”
When she faced him again, he noticed the worry in her expression and chose to ignore it. “Support check’s in the m-mail.”
Anger flared in her eyes. “I don’t care about your stupid money. I’m talking about your future. What you’re going to do when you get out of here.”
“Maybe I’ll…take up gardening.”
She fisted her hands at her sides. Annie was about to blow, and he couldn’t even get out of her path. “This isn’t a joke, Jack. You’ve got to consider your health. Your recuperation.” She strolled around to the other side of the bed, appearing unsure. Very un-Annelike.
“What d-do you suggest, Annie?”
“I want you to consider coming to live with me and Katie during your recovery.”
If that didn’t bring on another stroke, then maybe he was out of the woods after all. At least for the time being. “What the…hell for?”
“Because you’re going to need help. And we can help you. You don’t have to decide now. I just want you to think about it for the next few days.”
He didn’t understand her motivation, why she was making such a crazy offer. He suspected Hank had had something to do with this. Maybe even Delia. “I don’t need…any help. I wouldn’t want you to p-put yourself out on my account, Anne.”
“Quit being so damn stubborn!”
Annie had cursed at him. She was pissed, and he liked her that way. He liked her as pissed as he was over this whole mess. “You really want a vegetable…on your nice leather c-couch, Annie?”
In a matter of minutes, she recovered, erecting the emotional wall that had separated them for several years. She hadn’t changed her attitude about him one whit, but what could he expect? “You’ll get better.”
“Just ’cause you say it’s so…d-don’t make it so. Thanks for the…offer. But no…thanks.”
She shrugged and raised her hands all in one smooth move. “Okay, forget I asked. You hire someone to take care of you. And when you decide to stop feeling sorry for yourself, then maybe you’ll be ready to see your daughter again.”
When she spun on her crepe soles and headed for the door, a sudden fear gripped Jack. Irrational fear, yet too strong to ignore. He hated being at the mercy of everyone’s idea of what was best for him, but if he let her leave, he might lose his port in the storm. Again. Although there was a lot of garbage between Anne and him, he knew he could rely on her if he had to. She was the connection to his daughter, and he couldn’t survive without Katie in his life. He’d already given up too much.
“Annie, wait.”
When she turned, her eyes looked red-rimmed and moist. Surely she wasn’t going to cry over him. He wasn’t worth it. She was willing to make a sacrifice, and he’d gone and hurt her. The way he’d hurt her so many times already. But what the hell was he going to do? He gave her the only response that made any sense.
“I’m s-sorry. Bring Katie. Tonight.”
Now Anne stared at him, openly stunned. A long time had passed since he’d apologized to her for his shortcomings, and he had plenty. So many she’d never been able to forgive him, and most likely never would. “This probably wasn’t a great time to discuss this, Jack. It’s just that Katie cares about what happens to you.”
“What a-b-bout you, Annie?” An unfair question, yet he had to know.
“Of course I care, Jack. I still consider you a friend, and you are Katie’s father.”
But not her husband, or her lover, and despite what she said, not her friend.
Not anymore.
1984
Anne had never believed for a second she would become friends with a doctor, much less go out with one. Twice.
For the past hour she’d tried to find something about Jack Morgan that she didn’t like. Some hidden imperfection. Even the tiniest thing to discourage her. So far, she’d had little success. Of course, she could paint his persistence as a character flaw, and persistent