Thank goodness for Beth. Without her, she would have driven herself to the airport and she was in no condition to do that. She vaguely remembered Beth arguing and pleading with the airline to let her have a seat on the plane. It didn’t happen, though, and Emma was on her own. She had made it, though. She had broken all records for speed getting home to her family. Except now why was she standing at the front door, afraid to go in? Because if you go in, then it’s real. Instead of opening the door, she dropped to the steps, needing just another moment. When the door opened behind her, she looked over in surprise as Boston lowered himself to the step beside her. She laid her head on his shoulder and murmured, “It’s true, isn’t it?”
He let out a breath that sounded more like a sob and said, “Yeah, she’s gone, Em.”
“What happened? Dad said that she drowned. How is that possible? Robyn could swim like a fish.”
“She was surfing a new break with some of her friends. From what we’ve been told, the surf was pretty brutal and she wiped out over some coral. Her leash was tangled. She had taken a big hit to her head and they think she was too disoriented to free herself.”
Emma could tell by the shaking of Boston’s body against hers that he was crying. She turned and put her arms around him, burying her face against his big shoulders. They stayed that way until their father found them sometime later.
“Emmie, Boston, come on in. It’s too hot to stay out here.” Emma stood, looking at the strongest man she had ever known. He was pale, his normally tanned skin having taken on a sallow cast. He ruffled her hair as he usually did, but the gesture was more automatic than affectionate. He was a man operating on fumes, doing what he needed to do to survive.
She hugged him before asking, “Where is Mom?”
“She’s in bed. I had to call Doc Janice out to give her something. She just completely lost it when we got the call. Maybe you could go up and check on her. She’s calm now but just staring at the walls. I don’t know what to do, where to start. Your uncle is handling the arrangements, but we need to go see Robyn. I don’t know if your mother is able.”
Boston, looking more sober than she had ever seen him, stepped up to lead their dad to the living room while Emma walked with a heavy heart toward her parents’ room.
As her father had indicated, her mother was under the covers but instead of sleeping, she appeared to be staring at the wall. Emma sat next to her on the bed. “Mom?” Her mother gave her a blank look, leading her to wonder if perhaps she had been overmedicated.
“Mom, it’s Em.”
The glassy look seemed to leave as her mother said, “I believe I know who you are, honey. You know about your sister.”
Emma nodded. “Yeah, I know.”
“I tried to talk her out of going,” her mother continued. “I just had a bad feeling about the trip. I know all you kids are great swimmers; your father and I made sure of that. I never worried about any of you being in the water. But I was nervous about Robyn surfing somewhere new. She knew the waters here like the back of her hand. She got it in her head that she wanted to start training somewhere more challenging. Some of her friends were encouraging her to enter the Wave Masters tournament. She felt like she needed more experience before the competition.”
Emma pulled back the bed covers and crawled in next to her mother while she continued to talk. They wrapped their arms around each other and the tears came in a torrent. Emma found herself wondering if there would ever be a time again when the house would be filled with laughter. The sorrow hung heavily over them like a black cloud.
Chapter Twenty-three
At nine the next morning, Brant could no longer hold off on going to Emma’s house. Despite his objections, Mark and Ava had insisted on accompanying him on the flight to Florida and to the hotel afterward. It was a little difficult to throw a man off his own plane, so he had been forced to settle for company that he hadn’t really wanted. It was late by the time they landed in Pensacola and he had been reluctant to drop in on Emma and her family on the off chance that they were sleeping. Instead, Mark had ushered them to a waiting car at the airport and then to a local beachfront resort. Apparently, Ava and Mark had decided between them that Brant needed some moral support. What he actually needed was a good kick in the ass for the way he had fucked up his life so completely. He was pretty sure that Emma would be happy to provide him with that should she ever speak to him again after the way he had treated her.
He still couldn’t believe what had happened. Had there ever been a worse time to completely lose it with someone? Of course, he had had no way of knowing that she had suffered such a tragic loss, but it didn’t excuse him for taking his frustrations out on her. She had done nothing but take her cues from him. He had called her every night he had been out of town, and their conversations almost always had some kind of intimate content. He hadn’t just been checking in on things at the office. In fact, their evening talks hadn’t related to business at all, and they both knew it.
He had called Alexia from the airport and done what he should have done from the beginning. He had told her that he loved Emma. He had asked that she make other arrangements for somewhere to stay immediately. He ended the call by apologizing for letting things get as far as they had. True, they hadn’t had sex or anything approaching a physical relationship, but he had let things coast between them as he struggled to accept the depth of his feelings for Emma. He was at fault for creating this whole mess the minute he had allowed Alexia to stay with him. He had no idea if Alexia planned to return to Carter, but hoped she would give herself time to find out who she was and what she really wanted without a man making her decisions.
He picked up the keys that Mark had dropped off a few moments ago. Mark thought it would be wise to have a car in case Emma wasn’t comfortable with him staying. What the other man had meant, of course, was that he thought she would kick Brant out on sight.
Brant had to smile when he made it to the parking area and found the rental car. Mark had just said that it was a silver sedan with his name on it. He hadn’t questioned how that was possible until he saw the silver Mercedes sitting in the first parking space with a sign across the windshield that said BRANT STONE. Leave it to Mark to rent a Mercedes. Luckily, the hotel was also on Santa Rosa Island where Emma’s parents lived, so after taking a moment to familiarize himself with his surroundings, he was on his way. The drive took less than five minutes. No doubt Mark had planned it that way.
He pulled into the driveway at the Davis house just as Boston walked through the side yard, holding a cigarette—or what Brant hoped was just a cigarette. They met on the sidewalk. Brant noted the younger man’s fatigue as he dropped the cigarette to the ground and squashed it under the foot of his flip-flop. Brant didn’t know why he did it, other than that Boston looked like he needed it, but he pulled him into a hug instead of a handshake. Boston returned the embrace before pulling back. “Hey, man, I wondered where you were.”
“Hey, Boston, I came as soon as I found out. How’s everyone holding up?” Unlike their previous meeting, Brant thought Boston looked painfully sober now. Losing his sister seemed to have matured him almost overnight.
“About like you’d expect. Mom is completely zoned out on something, Dad is trying to act normal, and Em is trying to pretend that she isn’t hiding out in the bathroom to cry. The neighbors and Mom’s crazy friends have brought enough food by to feed an army. Every time they come, they try to force-feed me. It’s quiet now, but the crowd will be here soon.”
Confused, Brant asked, “The crowd?”
“Oh yeah.” Boston grimaced. “From the moment we found out, there has been someone here. It was like a revolving door yesterday, and I don’t expect today to be any better. The service is tomorrow afternoon. It’s one of those all-in-one where the visitation is right before the funeral.”
“Is there anything I can do for you or your family?” Brant asked.
“No, thanks, man. Just um . . . take care of Em, okay?”
Brant nodded in response and followed the younger man into the house.
Kat and Ken Davis were sitting side by side on the sofa in the living room. Brant thought fleetingly that Boston wasn’t the only one who had aged overnight. Kat Davis looked pale and lifeless. The vivacious woman that he’d met a few weeks ago seemed to have disappeared and in her place was a woman ravaged by grief. Ken Davis also seemed to have lost his happy, relaxed air. The love was still obvious in his face as he looked at his wife, but now that emotion was also tinged with devastation and concern.
They were in the midst of every parent’s nightmare: outliving a child. Since Emma was nowhere in sight, Brant stood there uncertainly, not wanting to intrude on a private moment. Then Boston spoke up behind him. “Hey, look who I found outside.”
Kat stood up, walking over to him slowly. She put her hand on his arm before pulling him into a hug. He returned the embrace gently. “I’m so glad you’re here; Em needs you.” Kat stepped back, wiping her eyes. Ken stood next to his wife, extending his hand.