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“Really? Because a three-year-old conveys what’s going on inside him that well?” Agnes challenged.
Trace let out a long sigh. Agnes and Bud loved him. As much as he didn’t agree with them on most accounts, his parents loved him, too. He wasn’t going to win this battle.
“All I’m asking is that you don’t interfere in Chrissie and Joss’s life. Nothing beyond that, especially not these accolades of why I’m not at fault that Joss almost died. I know what I did.”
What he’d done was be so caught up in what he wanted, in wanting to make his son love him and want to spend time with him, that he’d almost let him die.
Chrissie had been right not to trust him with Joss’s care.
Bud and Agnes shouldn’t have trusted him to sit with Kerry that day.
Agnes’s phone rang and, glancing at the number, she excused herself and left the table to take the call.
“Trace, I think you’re making a mistake stepping away from your son,” his father said from the head of the table.
“It’s my mistake to make.” The mistake had been going to Chrissie’s and meeting Joss in the first place.
“That boy is the heir to my fortune,” Trace’s father spoke up as if that was the perfect argument.
“Chrissie doesn’t want your fortune. She just wants Joss and he’s better off with her.”
“Son, I try to stay out of matters that aren’t really my business, but I agree with your dad on this,” Bud interjected. “You need to be a part of the boy’s life.”
“That isn’t an option.” His being a part of Joss’s life had almost cost Joss’s life. “I’m leaving and won’t be back in the States for at least six months.”
“Staying is an option. You just have to choose not to go.” This came from Trace’s father again.
Trace’s mother took another sip of her wine. “We want you to stay. We’ve always wanted you to stay. You know that.”
Trace wondered why he’d put himself through this torture. Why had he agreed to dinner with his parents and Bud and Agnes?
Because other than the two people he’d left behind in Chattanooga, these four were the most important people in his life.
Because they loved him.
Just as he loved them.
Only...only he’d shut them out since Kerry had died. All of them to some degree. But mostly his parents.
Because Kerry dying had hurt and no matter how much money his father threw at him afterward, nothing could bring her back. After a while he’d started feeling suffocated by everyone’s attempts to make his life better and he’d left for medical school, so no one else would die on
his watch, and then he’d opted to join DAW.
Because he’d needed space between him and those he loved. Why? Had he been afraid to feel?
Was he still afraid to feel?
“Trace?” Agnes said, coming back into the room, her expression grim. “That was Chrissie. Joss needs you in Chattanooga.”
“What?” He rose from the table, Agnes’s worried expression immediately putting him on alert.
“Joss needs you. Now. Apparently he has some rare blood type and...” Agnes’s voice trailed off.
That Agnes wouldn’t meet his eyes escalated Trace’s fear.
He’d been in touch with Joss’s doctor every day. The man had his cell number and instructions to call if there were any changes. Joss had been doing well, had been home for a couple of days. What had happened?
He should call Chrissie. If Joss needed him, his blood, he had to go.
