Charlotte Douglas - Almost Heaven

“You’re not going now,” Nana said in her soft drawl with its underlying hint of steel that defied contradiction. “I know you had breakfast at 5:00 a.m., as usual, and it’s almost noon. I have lunch ready in the dining room. We can talk as we eat.”

“This is family business,” Grant said, apparently anxious to return to Gloria. “I don’t want to intrude.”

“Fiddlesticks,” Nana said. “You’re Jim’s partner. That makes you family. Besides, I need your help.”

MJ watched with undisguised amusement as Grant relented. Not even his strong will could refuse the command in Nana’s tone. He followed Sally Mae into the dining room and pulled out a chair for her at the head of the table. MJ sat on her grandmother’s right. Grant took a chair at Nana’s left, looking as if he were attending his own execution.

Nana reached for the silver pitcher in front of her place. “Iced tea?”

MJ’s nerves had reached their breaking point. “This isn’t a social event, Nana. I want to know what’s wrong, and I want to know now.”

Her grandmother set the pitcher down with a thud and for a fleeting instant looked as if she were going to cry, something MJ had never witnessed in her twenty-eight years, not even the night her grandfather had died.

MJ held her breath as, with apparent Herculean effort, Sally Mae regained her composure and spoke so softly, MJ strained to hear.

“Your father,” her grandmother said in a voice without inflection, “has left your mother.”

Grant’s reaction to Merrilee’s dilemma surprised him. He drew on all his self-control to keep from rising and going to her. Touched by the distress on her face, he craved to pull her into his arms and to comfort her. But she hadn’t wanted him six years ago and she sure as hell didn’t want him now, especially when her world had just caved in.

Irritation at his inadequacy consumed him. He could calm a raging bull, soothe a four-hundred-pound sow with blood in her eye, pacify a wild stallion and handle wild-eyed feral cats. But today, just like six years ago, he was helpless to communicate with, must less console, one small but incredibly beautiful and desirable woman.

“Daddy left?” Merrilee’s face had gone white, her eyes, the color of a Carolina mountain sky, had widened with shock and, for an instant, Grant feared she would faint. “What do you mean?”

Sally Mae’s aristocratic features twisted into a wry grimace. “You may have spent the last few years among Yankees, but surely you still understand plain English. Left means exactly what it says.”

“He’s moved out?” Merrilee looked as if she was having trouble breathing.

Grant fought the impulse to close his eyes against her distress.

“In a word, yes,” her grandmother replied.

For Merrilee’s sake, Grant wished Sally Mae hadn’t been so blunt, but he didn’t know how else she could have broken such unpleasant news except straight-out.

“Why?” Merrilee insisted.

Grant clamped his jaw to keep from interfering. Working day-in and day-out with Jim Stratton, Grant had witnessed the transformation in his partner and friend, but informing Merrilee was Sally Mae’s responsibility. Grant just hoped the older woman would break the details more gently.

“It’s a long story,” Sally Mae said.

“This has been going on for a while?” Merrilee’s face flushed, color returning with her anger. “Why didn’t anyone let me know?”

“Things didn’t come to a head until yesterday.” Her grandmother’s grim expression added years to her appearance. “No one thought Jim would go that far.”

That much was true, Grant thought. He’d believed his partner’s foolish actions a temporary aberration. He’d never guessed that Jim would take such drastic measures.

“What about Mom? Is she okay?”

“I haven’t spoken with your mother for several days,” Sally Mae said. “She’s staying at her apartment in Asheville.”

“Her apartment?” Merrilee’s confusion was evident. “I thought you said Dad moved out.”

Sally Mae took a deep breath, the only outward sign she was struggling for control. “I’d better start at the beginning. Last summer, your father started putting in long hours, pushing himself too hard. He seldom slept or took time to eat.”

MJ turned an accusing glance on Grant. “I thought you were supposed to help him. Isn’t that what a partner’s for?”

“We’ve both been up to our necks.” Grant met her gaze and, although her anger stung, refused to take it personally. His conscience was clear. “Old Doc Gregory over in Walhalla died. Jim and I have been taking up the slack until a new vet takes over his practice.”

“Are you telling me Dad’s lost his mind from working too hard?” Merrilee asked her grandmother.

“Oh, Jim’s not crazy,” Sally Mae said quickly. “But overwork, sleep deprivation, lack of good nutrition, and the realization he’s not getting any younger have left his judgment impaired.”

Merrilee shook her head and a strand of hair the color of sunshine on corn silk fell over one eye. Grant squelched the urge to reach across the table to push it back. Merrilee had made it clear long ago she didn’t want his touch.

After the way she’d dumped him so abruptly, had refused to answer his phone calls or letters, had acted as if he’d dropped off the face of the earth, had caused him endless sleepless nights and heartache, Grant should take satisfaction at her distress.

But he didn’t.

He couldn’t.

All he wanted was to make her world right for her again, something he couldn’t do with Jim Stratton off the rails and acting crazy.

“Mom usually watches Dad like a hawk,” Merrilee said, “to make sure he takes care of himself. She wouldn’t have let this happen.”

The glaze of shock had returned to her amazing blue eyes and Grant’s old pull toward her tightened again, tugging on his heartstrings.

“Your mother’s been preoccupied,” Sally Mae said.

“With teaching?” Merrilee shook her head. “Mom never put her career first. Dad’s always been the center of her universe.”

“Her universe has shifted,” Sally Mae said with dry disapproval. “Cat took a sabbatical last fall. Went back to school for her Ph.D.”

“I know that,” Merrilee said. “I may not have come home, but I have stayed in touch by phone and e-mail.”

“And your parents have told you only what they wanted you to know,” her grandmother said sharply. Sally Mae’s expression and her voice softened. “Don’t blame yourself. None of us knew the full extent of the problem. Not until yesterday.”

Merrilee straightened her shoulders, as if bearing up under a heavy burden. “So you’re telling me, with Dad’s heavy workload and midlife crisis and Mom’s going back to school, my parents have simply drifted apart?”

Sally Mae nodded, and Grant kept quiet, waiting for the bomb to drop.

“No wonder you called me,” Merrilee said with a sigh that sounded relieved. “I’ll talk to them. I know how much they love each other. If I can get them to communicate, they can work this out.”

Grant closed his eyes. Here it comes.

Sally Mae fidgeted with the sterling silver flatware beside her plate. “There’s a…complication.”

“What kind of complication?” Merrilee didn’t have a clue and Grant wished she could remain ignorant. The truth was going to break her heart.

“Ginger Parker,” Sally Mae said in a tone that suggested the mere name made her sick to her stomach. “She’s the complication.”

“Another woman?” Merrilee said with a gasp, as if someone had sucker-punched her. “My dad with another woman? I don’t believe it!”