As usual, Prentice didn’t hear a word Fiona said.
And by the time she was done yelling, Bella was in the car and she didn’t even look at Prentice’s angry, tight face as she reversed the rental out of the spot and she didn’t look back as she drove away.
Chapter Ten
Isabella’s Return
Isabella
The next three weeks went by in a fog for Isabella.
Well, not all of it.
She remembered texting Annie and Mikey repeatedly to let them know she was okay and not about to drive her car over a cliff.
And she remembered Fergus showing up at the hotel she’d checked herself into after her mad flight from the wedding reception. She remembered him having a drink with her in the bar, guiding to her room and holding her while she cried and tucking her into bed when she was exhausted from her tears. She also remembered him taking her to breakfast the next morning and to the airport that afternoon.
She also remembered her heretofore unknown fury likely induced by her not sleeping (even a little bit) and her mind playing and replaying the night before and day of Annie and Dougal’s wedding, second by second, in a constant loop, boiling up and rolling over.
This gave her the equally heretofore unknown courage to confront her father days after her return.
She walked right into her childhood home and asked him why on earth he’d shown up and ruined Annie and Dougal’s Scottish Fairytale Come True Wedding and she’d used those exact words. And she asked him why on earth he’d come tearing to Scotland when he’d heard she was there and then treated her like a fifteen year old he’d caught heavy petting with her boyfriend in a car instead of a forty year old divorcee dancing with a man at a wedding.
And she remembered his answer.
“Isabella,” he’d started on that disappointed sigh she knew way too well, “after this last stunt, I’ve given up on you. No matter what I’ve done, how hard I’ve worked; you’ve turned out just like your mother. Therefore, in a way, I’m glad you came because you should know and it’s saved me the trouble of seeking you out. You’re disinherited. My will has already been changed. I’m giving my legacy to the Art Institute of Chicago. We’re in discussions for them to name a wing after me.”
Isabella stood in front of him, stunned at his answer which, incidentally, was not an answer at all but simply a mean, nasty statement.
And she stood in front of him stunned that he showed not one smidgeon of regret or embarrassment for striking her in front of an audience to the point she fell to her knees.
Then she surprised herself by replying coolly, completely in control and without a shred of fear (something Carver Austin taught her well, just not how to do it with him), “Well, when you’re dead, and they’ve named that wing after you, I’ll be sure not to visit. Until that time, you be sure not to contact or come near me again.”
Then she’d turned on her hideously expensive, high-heeled pump which, regardless of her losing her father’s legacy, she still could afford since her mother was loaded too and she willed every penny to Isabella.
She also remembered making the harebrained, insane decision that she might never be going back to that village and she might never see Prentice or Jason or Sally again but that didn’t mean she couldn’t send Sally a box of American candy.
So she did.
She bought every kind of candy and chocolate you could get in America that you couldn’t get in Scotland (and some that you could, just so Sally could make a taste-testing comparison) and she Fed Ex’ed it to Sally.
Then she worried that giving Sally a box of candy would make Jason feel left out, so she Fed Ex’ed him a book on how to teach yourself to play guitar.
Then she walked by a store where in the window she saw a little girl’s magic wand that had all sorts of glittery ribbons trailing from it and a big, puffy, lilac satin star at the tip. She walked in and found the store had all sorts of magic-oriented little girl stuff that Sally would love. So she filled another box and Fed Ex’ed it.
Then, to even things out, she bought Jason a Bears jersey and a Cubs baseball hat and Fed Ex’ed that.
Further, she remembered spending a lot of time remembering every minute she spent with Sally and Jason.
And every minute she spent falling right back in love with Prentice (not that she ever fell out of love with him).
And she remembered a lot about that.
She remembered Prentice winking at his son.
She remembered the warm looks he gave his daughter.
She remembered him offering her the pancake on his very own plate.
She remembered when he told her she was not easy to forget.
She remembered how he guided her to bed, took off her shoes and held her drunken body, giving her a tight squeeze when they shared a moment of happiness for Annie and Dougal.
She remembered him laughing at her but taking care of her when she was hung over.
She remembered his hands on her, his mouth on her and the incredibly beautiful feel of him inside her.
She remembered how sweet it was when he called her “baby”.
She remembered him telling her, “I just want you.”
She remembered that he remembered the words he said to her, twenty years ago, the same words that were seared into her brain.
She remembered how much she loved it when he called her “Elle” because the Elle he knew was who she had always wanted to be.
She remembered swaying in his arms to a sad song and letting herself believe, if only for three minutes, that she might get her fairytale too.
And, lastly, she remembered the look on his face in her rearview mirror when she drove away.
But other than that, she was in a fog, mostly because she was trying not to remember.
* * * * *
It was the dead of night and Isabella was dozing, still unable to sleep, when she heard the phone ring.
She reached for it, put it to her ear and said, “Hello.”
“Bella?”
Isabella came up to an elbow and her heart thumped painfully in her chest when she heard Annie’s tone.
“Annie? What is it? Are you back from Greece? Is everything okay?” Isabella’s questions came out in a rush and her mind was racing.
God, she hoped Dougal was all right, they’d only just come back from their honeymoon.
And Fergus, he beat cancer, but Isabella heard that comes back all the time.
And Clarissa, she could be crazy, just like her daughter, anything could happen when you were always doing crazy things!
And Prentice… but Isabella didn’t go there.
Those questions were greeted with silence.
Isabella waited.
“Annie?” she prompted.
“Yes, Dougal and I are back from Greece.”
Annie stopped talking.
Isabella waited.
Then she pressed, “And?”
Another pause then, “It’s Sally,” Annie answered softly and Isabella’s thumping heart stopped dead. “She’s been knocked over by a car.”
Isabella lay still in her bed, her eyes unfocused, her mind filled with images of Sally.
Isabella hadn’t thought to worry about Sally. In her mind, Sally was invincible, protected by her youth and her shield of impenetrable cheerfulness.
Nothing could happen to Sally.
Especially not something so horrific as being hit by a car.
“Bella? Are you there?”
Isabella’s voice was a croak when she asked, “Is she okay?”
“Broken bones and –” Annie stopped.
“And what?” Isabella pushed.
“They’ve induced a coma because of the head injuries.”
Isabella threw the covers off the bed and jumped out.
“Bella, I know something went wrong with Prentice,” Annie was talking as Isabella ran from her room, down the hall to where she stowed her luggage. “He’s not talking to Dougal and Dad told me to lea
ve you alone, you needed time and then you’d call me. I know you probably don’t want to come all the way back here but –”
Isabella cut her off. “I’ll be on the next flight.”
A moment of silence then, “What?”
“I’ll be on the next flight,” Isabella repeated as she lugged out one of her bags and carried it down the hall.
“You’re… coming?” Annie sounded astounded.
“I’ll call you back when I have details.”
“You’ll… call?” Annie still sounded astounded.
Isabella didn’t have time for Annie’s astonishment.
“Annie,” Isabella said evenly, using everything she had to calm her breathing, her heart and her mind and not scream with fear, anger and impatience, “I need to get off the phone and call the airlines. I’ll ring you when I know when I’m arriving.”
Another moment of silence then, “Okay.”
Isabella nodded and was about to take the phone from her ear and hit the off button when Annie spoke again.
“Bella, honey, it’s going to be all right.”
Isabella was no nurse (no matter what Mikey told the children) but she knew inducing comas because of head injuries made the chances of everything being “all right” pretty dismal.
And Isabella had learned, over and over, that very little ended up “all right”.
But she couldn’t think of that now.
She had a plane to catch.
She didn’t know which one yet or when it left but whatever or whenever, she was going to catch it.
* * * * *
Prentice
Prentice stood looking out the window of his daughter’s hospital room thinking that there was only one thing worse than watching your always full of life and laughter wife wasting away in a matter of months.
That was seeing your always full of life and laughter six year old daughter lying in a coma in a hospital room.
These were his thoughts when the door opened and Annie walked in.
Prentice began to smile a tired smile. The accident was two days ago and Annie had barely left the hospital. Debs and his mother had fallen to pieces but Annie had been a rock.
The smile died when Annie, who was setting down suitcases, was followed by Elle.
For the first time in forty-eight hours, Prentice forgot about his daughter and he stared at Elle in shock.
In his memory, both recent and past, he never remembered Elle looking bad.
Decades ago, she was always bright-eyed, pink-cheeked and cheery, a healthy glow emanating from her. She wore even her casual clothes with a grace that made them stylish.
More recently, she was cool and refined, classically beautiful, her poise alluring. She wore her sophisticated clothes with a grace and assurance that made them striking.
Three weeks she’d been gone and now she looked gaunt and fatigued. She’d lost weight. Her pallor was startling. There were soft, blue shadows under her eyes. Her hair was tied up in a mess on top of her head and her blouse and jacket were wrinkled as if she’d slept in them.
Her tired eyes skittered across him and went direct to the bed.
Prentice watched as she lifted her hand, held onto the edge of the door with white-knuckled fingers and her eyes closed slowly.
He wanted to be furious at her unbelievable cheek.
He couldn’t be.
He didn’t have the energy and he didn’t have the capacity when her face filled with the worry he’d experienced gnawing at his gut constantly for two days.
He watched as she opened her eyes, let go of the door and strode into the room to Sally’s bed.
Then he watched as she reached out and touched the cast on Sally’s arm with her fingertips.
Then he watched her head turn from Sally to him.
“I’m sorry, Prentice.”
Christ. Even her voice sounded exhausted.
“Aye. I am too.”
Her head tilted slightly. “Do you mind if I stay awhile?”
Prentice shook his head. “No, she’d like that.”
And she would. If Sally was awake, she’d be in fits of glee.
Elle’s departure had left Jason moody and confused. This had only shifted (slightly) when Elle’s boxes started to arrive.
Sally, on the other hand, chose to think Elle had gone on an enchanted holiday meeting dukes and princes and talking birds and she chatted about all these magical fairytale possibilities and Elle incessantly. Her blind adoration of Elle only intensified when the boxes started to arrive.
Elle grabbed a chair and dragged it to the side of the bed. She dumped her purse on the floor, sat down and got close. Leaning forward, she crossed her arms on the bed and put her chin on them.
Then, with her head turned toward Sally, she started whispering to his daughter.
Annie moved to Prentice.
“I had to call her,” Annie said softly.
Prentice tore his gaze from the bed to look at his friend.
“Aye.”
“She came straight away,” Annie informed him.
If you told him four days ago his daughter would be knocked over by a car and Elle would come straight away, he wouldn’t have believed it. Two months ago, something happened to Annie or Fergus, if you told him Elle would come straight away, he wouldn’t have believed it.
Looking at her, he knew without a shred of doubt she came straight away.
Prentice didn’t know what to do with that so he didn’t do anything with it.
“Aye,” he repeated.
“I know this is going to sound, erm… mad…” Prentice thought most everything Annie came up with was mad but he watched her mutely and she went on, “But, do you mind taking Bella to Dad’s place later? I promised Mrs. Kilbride I’d take her to the shops today. If I don’t go ‘round, she won’t have tea.”
Oh, he minded. A great deal.
And it was mad.
As mad as it was when Annie finagled his last reunion with Elle which, incidentally, ended very badly.
At that moment, Prentice wanted to spend time with Elle only slightly less than he wanted his daughter to be in a coma.
Annie leaned in. “Please, Prentice. I wouldn’t ask if –”
Unfortunately, he was too tired to fight it.
“Aye, I’ll take her to Fergus’s before I go get Jason.”
Annie squeezed his bicep and walked to Elle. She leaned into her friend, Elle’s head turned from Sally to listen and Annie whispered in her ear.
Prentice watched as Elle’s wan face grew ashen and her eyes flew to Prentice.
She tore her gaze from Prentice, looked at Annie and he watched her lips form the word, “Annie –”
“It’s only a ride.” He heard Annie reply before she squeezed Elle’s shoulder.
Without hesitation, Annie hurried out the door not giving Elle time to protest or Prentice time to change his mind.
Yes, Prentice decided, Annie was mad.
“I’m sorry,” Elle said again and his eyes went from the closing door to her.
He didn’t reply to her words.
Instead he said, “I’m getting coffee. Do you want one?”
She shook her head.
Prentice left.
When he returned, her head was back to her arm on the bed but this time it was her temple not her chin resting on them. And this time one arm was slightly extended, the fingers of her hand curled lightly around Sally’s cast.
Prentice walked up behind her and was about to speak when he saw her eyes were closed.
She was asleep.
He studied her tired face for a long moment and then went back to the window. Looking out, he sipped his coffee, wishing it was whisky.
He stood there a long time.
Too long.
It came to the point where he needed to pick his son up from school.
But, God help him, he didn’t have the fucking heart to wake Elle.
* * * * *
Isabella
&n
bsp; The ride from the hospital to the school was silent.
They were late.
Isabella was horrified she’d fallen asleep.
Now they were late picking up Jason so Prentice couldn’t drop her off at Fergus’s first. And Jason would be waiting for Prentice and likely worried. And Isabella hadn’t given herself time to think about what she would do or say when she saw Prentice again (or Jason). Even though it took ages to get there, all her thoughts had been centered on getting to Sally. She hadn’t let herself think of Prentice or, she knew, she would have lost what little courage she had and she would never have come.
And more, she was sleep-deprived, jetlagged, her short nap had exacerbated that and she felt muddled.
Not muddled enough not to want to push Annie off the nearest cliff for getting Isabella stuck in a car with a weary, unhappy Prentice who hated her again though.
On this thought, the school came in sight.
Jason was outside with some boys, unenthusiastically kicking around a soccer ball.
One of his friends saw Prentice’s Range Rover and jerked his chin to Jason.
Jason’s head turned, he caught sight of his father’s car, started to wave to his friends and then his eyes locked on Isabella.
His arm dropped and he started running to the car.
Oh dear.
She didn’t know what to expect.
Whatever it was, she had no choice but to tough it out and she had Annie to thank for that too.
When Prentice stopped the car, Isabella got out.
Jason skidded to a halt in front of her and shouted, “You came back!”
This was an interesting greeting, one, in her muddled state, she couldn’t quite decipher.
“Jason,” she said softly.
He dashed forward and threw his arms around her, giving her a fierce hug right in front of his friends.
This was a far better greeting.
Isabella relaxed, let his hug warm away some of the coldness that had imprisoned her heart since she drove away from Jason’s father three weeks ago, put a hand to the back of his neck and closed her eyes.
She opened them when he pulled away and proclaimed, “I knew you’d come back. I knew it when you sent me that book.”
“Jason,” she repeated, wanting to say something. She had no earthly clue what but she knew she should say something.