Jack had never felt more territorial and annoyed in his life. He was a longtime military leader accustomed to people following his orders without hesitation.
How could this waif of a waitress not get that he wanted her to leave?
She wasn’t family. She had no right to be here. Why’d she think she did? It irritated Jack to no end.
As if sensing Jack’s thoughts, Olivia narrowed her eyes in a challenge that said if he wanted her gone, he was going to have to physically carry her out.
He was tempted.
Releasing Dad’s hand, he marched around the bed. “It wasn’t a suggestion, Miss Abbott. I’d like time with my dad. Alone.”
She scowled at first, but slowly the tenseness left her shoulders as she studied his face. Then she nodded. She grabbed her gunmetal-gray purse, studded down the sides, leaned over, brushed a gentle hand along his dad’s face and said, “Sully, I’ll be back tomorrow. Jack will hold vigil until then.” Then she slipped out of the room avoiding Jack’s gaze.
“I’m walking Miss Abbott out, Dad. Be right back,” Jack said, following her.
Once in the hallway, she turned to face him. “I realize this is the first time you’ve seen your father in person in a while. You’re entitled to want time alone with him. I was out of line.”
He studied her face like a war map. “Yet you still seem angry about having to leave.”
She started to say something then bit her tongue. “He needs someone there. It’s your place, not mine. So go back in.” She paused to peer back into his dad’s room.
A look that Jack could only describe as terror flashed across her face before calm funneled back into her expression. Then she turned without another word and strode away. Jack realized that she was scared to leave his dad. He considered calling her back but then came to his senses. This was a family matter.
This regret was his reckoning. He should have spent time with his dad while he had the chance. But the fact that Sully survived this stroke meant Jack was looking his second chance right in the face. No one was going to take that from him.
Suspicions surfaced as to why Olivia didn’t want to leave him alone with Sully. Malevolent ones. Who was she anyway? He didn’t know her or her integrity. His dad tended to be too trusting. Jack had never abused his hard-won authority but Miss Abbott, her initial stubbornness, spike-tipped tongue and his twenty total minutes of sleep in three days were driving him to the edge of reason. But hopefully this power struggle between them was a temporary glitch caused by stress and mutual concern for Sully, and would resolve when he stabilized.
A mobile phone chirped from the windowsill. Jack rushed to silence it since his dad was sleeping soundly rather than fitfully now. Upon further inspection, Jack realized this was his dad’s new phone. The caller ID said Eagle Point Bank. Jack stepped outside and called them back, introducing himself as Sully’s son, explaining that Dad was in intensive care and that Jack had power of attorney.
What he heard next made Jack want to hurl what little food he’d had.
“You’re sure about this?” Jack asked the bank officer who’d just explained how deep in debt the diner was, and how many foreclosure warnings the bank had already sent to Sully.
“I’m sorry, Jack. We’re sure. I may be able to get an extension before foreclosure proceedings begin, considering Sully’s precarious health. But I can’t guarantee it. Especially in light of how much grace has already been extended, and how many subsequent notifications and then demand letters our loan default officer has sent over the past year.”
“I understand. Just, yeah, see what you can do. Any kind of extension will help. I’ll go over the books and figure out what happened.”
Last he’d known, Dad had a cushion financially. What happened? How long had the diner been facing money trouble? Dad had probably kept his financial woes hidden from Jack, not wanting to worry him while he was off at war. His jaw clenched.
“I’ll do everything I can,” the bank contact stated. “Sully’s Diner is a city icon. We’d hate to see it disappear.”
Jack would hate it, too—Sully’s Diner had been in the family for three generations. “I appreciate the additional grace. Thanks.” He hung up and clamped a hand on the nape of his neck. He needed to stay with Dad but also needed to go to the diner and start scouring the books.
“Major General Sullenberger?”
Jack turned. A doctor who looked about Jack’s age—early thirties—approached with a smile and extended a hand. “I’m Dr. McLaren. I was here when your dad was brought here to EPTC. His last listed family doctor retired. I’m seeing him as a courtesy while he recovers. At least until we can transfer him to the stroke rehab wing at Refuge Memorial, one town over.”
“Nice to meet you. I’m thankful a trauma center was recently built here. Otherwise...” Jack didn’t need to finish. The sober look on the doctor’s face completed his thoughts. Had the trauma center not been close and Dad’s employees not gotten him help when they did, Sully may not be here. “I’m ashamed to admit I wasn’t aware of his doctor retiring, and I’m not sure why he never got a new doctor. Maybe if I’d known, this could have been prevented.” Guilt riddled Jack.
“It’s hard to say.” The doctor wrote something down on a pad and handed the page to Jack. “Here are some local doctors. One’s a military veteran, like your dad. He’ll need to have a primary care physician to follow up with as he progresses through all the poststroke therapy.”
Jack studied the list of four names and numbers. “I’ll make some calls and also see to it that he takes better care of himself.” As he said it, he knew that would be difficult if he returned overseas.
Jack had some hard decisions ahead.
“You look beat. You should go home for the night and sleep. We’ll call if anything changes. Right now, he’s stable and needs rest and quiet more than anything. As do you.”
Jack peered down the hall toward his dad’s door. He didn’t want to leave but knew the doctor was probably right on all counts. He nodded in resignation. “Okay.”
“Meanwhile, we have an Olivia Abbott listed as your dad’s emergency contact. Is that correct?”
What? Why Olivia? For sure, Jack needed to figure out why this Abbott woman was so entrenched in his dad’s life and business. “If you’d please change that to me, I’d appreciate it. I’m also his medical and legal power of attorney.” Jack gave the doctor his contact information. “I’ll be staying at his apartment above the diner.”
“Got it.” An overhead page called the doctor to another area of Eagle Point Trauma Center—EPTC. He gave Jack’s information to the nursing staff and jogged toward the stairs.
Jack returned to his dad’s hospital room to spend a few more moments with him before heading out. As he sat there, Jack wrestled with scenarios and hard questions, and a particular pixie face floated into his weary, wary mind.
Olivia Abbott, her soft voice at such odds with her edgy look, her tender affection toward his dad equally at odds with her ink-and stud-abraded skin. She was totally not his
