A Christmas to Cherish (A Festive Christmas #4)

Chapter 14

Chapter Fourteen

“ H ow could you not tell me you weren’t feeling well?” Emma paused to rake a hand through her hair. “Is that why you sent me that letter?”

Henry, who was propped against a few pillows, looked frailer than she’d ever seen him, especially with his gaunt, pale features and the paper-thin hospital gown that did little to hide the sharp lines of his body and collarbone.

“I didn’t send you the letter because of this.” He made a vague hand gesture to indicate the monitor beeping next to him and the small window overlooking the park across the street. “This is nothing.”

“ You had a stroke ,” Emma hissed. “That’s not nothing, Dad. That’s a pretty big something.”

And it felt like she was the only one, other than his doctors, who was taking it seriously.

Why were her parents still pushing her away?

“People have strokes all the time,” Henry argued with a lift of his chin. The top of his head glistened with sweat, and his bright eyes were fixed on her. “I sent you that letter because we need to talk about the eclipse.”

Emma stopped pacing and folded her arms over her chest. “Are you kidding me right now? Who cares about the eclipse?”

It was the least of her worries.

Everything else had taken a back seat as far as she was concerned.

“You should care. It’s really important we figure out the exact location of the treasure before the eclipse; otherwise, who knows if we’ll ever get another chance like this.”

Emma shook her head. “You should be resting and figuring out how to cut stress out of your life. Not playing detective because of some stupid treasure.”

Henry’s eyes tightened, and the corners of his mouth turned down. “It’s not some stupid treasure. It’s our family legacy. Once you realize what it is, everything will be clearer.”

Emma let her hands fall to her sides. “I don’t think so.”

Henry gripped the sheets on either side of him and lowered his head. “You have to keep looking into it, Emma. It’s important.”

“Because of the foreclosure notice? Do you really think whatever treasure you’re going to find is worth more than your life?”

Henry’s gaze snapped up, and a shadow settled over his face. “How did you find out about that?”

“Well, apparently, everyone knows.” Emma took a step in his direction and counted backward from five. “Everyone except me. I know we’ve had our differences, but do you really disapprove of my choices so much that you’d keep this from me? What did you think that was going to accomplish?”

Henry sank back in his seat, and his expression softened. “I wasn’t actively trying to hide it from you. You weren’t here, and I didn’t want you to worry.”

“That’s not a good reason, and you know it.”

The monitor began to beep faster, and his chest rose and fell in uneven bursts. “This isn’t how it was supposed to work. I didn’t want you to come back to this.”

Emma’s gaze slid over to the monitor, and her stomach tightened. “You need to rest. I’m going to go call a nurse and see if she can give you something to calm you down.”

Between the foreclosure and his obsession with the eclipse, it was all catching up to him.

As much as Emma hated to be kept in the dark, she knew if she pushed any further, she risked giving him another stroke.

The truth wasn’t worth endangering her father’s life.

No matter how scared and frustrated she was.

When her mother came back in, carrying a tray of coffee and a plastic bag full of snacks, the sedative had finally taken over, and Henry’s head had lolled to the side. Emma pressed a finger to her mouth and gestured to the small balcony attached to Henry’s room. The two of them crept outside, pausing to breathe in the crisp night air.

Slowly, Emma placed both hands on the rail and tried to make sense of her racing thoughts. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Your father didn’t want you to know, and I had to respect that decision. Even if I disagreed.”

Emma gripped the railing tighter. “You should’ve told me. I know you didn’t think highly of Andrew, but he was a doctor. I’m still in touch with some of his colleagues. They could’ve helped.”

Silence settled between them.

Emma made herself turn around, and her mother was leaning against the wall. She paused to tighten her coat’s sash and drew herself up to her full height. “What do you want me to do, Emma? Do you want me to apologize for respecting your father’s wishes?”

Emma dug her nails into her palms. “I want you to acknowledge that I’m your daughter. One fight shouldn’t change that, and neither should your disapproval of my life choices. I deserve to know the truth.”

Marie pressed her mouth into a thin, white line. “What good would it have done? You have your own life in the city, and Henry didn’t want you here out of pity—”

“Pity? Are you serious? He’s my dad . Of course, I would’ve wanted to be here. You have no idea how angry I am right now… How did we even get here?”

No matter how many times she went over it in her head, she couldn’t understand.

Disapproving of Andrew and her career choice was one thing.

Systematically cutting her out of their lives and leaving her out in the cold to bleed was another.

Her parents were many things, but heartless wasn’t one of them.

Or so she thought.

“I sent a colleague of Andrew’s Dad’s medical files,” Emma continued after a long pause. “He’s a neurosurgeon, and he should be able to give us a second opinion.”

Marie stiffened. “Your father isn’t going to be happy about any of this.”

“Nobody is,” Emma replied, her voice catching toward the end. “But it’s happening anyway, and I’ll be following up to make sure he’s getting the necessary treatment. I know you don’t want me to, and I know you don’t want me here, but let’s just figure out how to get through this.”

With as minimal damage as possible.

Once her dad was out of the woods, they could worry about the debris.

Marie’s hand darted out and lingered midair, a frown hovering on the edge of her lips. “I never said I didn’t want you here, Emma. Things are a lot more complicated than you think. Your father and I never meant to keep things from you or exclude you.”

Emma searched her mother’s tired and weathered face. “You can’t say that and not mean it.”

“I do mean it.”

Emma raised an eyebrow. “So, are you ready to tell me the real reason you walked away from the limelight? The Marie I knew made a lot of sacrifices for her career, and she wouldn’t have walked away so easily.”

“Maybe the Marie you knew doesn’t exist anymore.”

Emma held her mother’s gaze and ignored the tightening of her chest. “I guess not.”

But who was the woman standing in front of her if she wasn’t the mother she’d grown up with?

In silence, Emma brushed past her mother and slid the door open. A blast of hot air hit her in the face as soon as she walked in. Henry was sound asleep, his mouth half-open as his snores filled the room. On the tips of her toes, she crept over to where he slept and stared at his sleeping face, at the lines and wrinkles marring every inch of his features.

She hated knowing she’d played a role in their rift too.

Her parents might’ve kept her at arm’s length, but she hadn’t tried hard enough to stop them.

With an exhale, she leaned forward to press a kiss to her father’s forehead. She lingered for a few seconds and then drew away. In the doorway, she glanced over her shoulder at her mother’s silhouette, outlined behind the balcony’s glass door. Marie slid the door open to step in, and Emma yanked on the knob to slip out into the hallway.

Her walk downstairs was a blur of fluorescent lighting and dull conversation rising and falling around her.

Emma listened to the squeak of her shoes against linoleum floors and ignored the smell of disinfectant.

Even the sound of beeping monitors receded into the background, taking a back seat to the voices clamoring for attention inside her head. When Emma stumbled out into the cold December night, she leaned against the nearest wall and inhaled a mouthful of air. After several deep breaths, the tremor in her hand subsided, and she set off at a brusque pace.

At the park across the street, she sank into the nearest bench and buried her face in her hands.

It was Jules’s voice that broke her out of the darkness. Seeing her standing across from Marley, rolling up chunks of snow, made something warm and pleasant unfurl in the center of Emma’s stomach. She blew out puffs of white air, sitting up straighter. A small smile hovered over her lips as she watched them.

Knowing they were trying to make the most of a bad situation made her feel better.

Marley hadn’t hesitated to stop by when she heard the news, bringing Jules with her. After they’d checked up on Henry, Marley had taken one look at Jules’s crestfallen expression and known it was too much for her.

Being in a hospital again, after all this time, was bringing back all sorts of memories for her daughter, the kind she wanted to leave dead and buried.

Andrew hadn’t been in the hospital for long after his accident.

But the sight of his frail figure in that hospital bed had haunted Emma for years after his death. Now and again, she thought she still heard his cries of pain as he clutched her hand, desperate to hang on to life.

Blinking away the tears, Emma fidgeted with the scarf around her neck and swallowed.

Her father wasn’t Andrew.

And this wasn’t Boston.

She needed to stop drawing parallels, or it was going to drive her crazy.

Emma wanted to believe history wasn’t going to repeat itself, and as she sat there, watching Jules and Marley build a snowman, she kept telling herself things would be different.

It was all she could hold on to in a sea of uncertainty.