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He put his carry-on in and wiped his palms on his thighs. “Nice car.”
I almost laughed. “You know, Jeremiah looked at it much the same way. I’ve also got a Jeep that’s about twenty years old and he prefers to drive that, but this one has air conditioning.”
“Ah, yes. This humidity is no joke.”
I opened the passenger door for him and smiled. “Jeremiah said the exact same thing.”
I climbed in behind the wheel and getting us out of the car park was a good distraction. I didn’t have to worry about what to say for a minute or two, at least.
“Darwin’s had a rough time of it,” he said as we made our way into traffic. “I tried to catch it on the news, but the Melbourne channels stopped showing it when it wasn’t news anymore.”
“You saw Jeremiah’s interview where he told you he was okay, yeah?”
He furrowed his brow. “Well, yes. Though he probably shouldn’t have wasted important resources for that.”
It was hard not to smile at him because, my god, he and Jeremiah were so alike. “That news crew owed him. A ten second interview to let you know he was okay was the least they could do.”
He scowled before schooling his features. “Yes, with the lightning strike. I saw that too.”
“When he saved those two kids?” I nodded. “He’s a bit of a hero in this town.”
He watched the passing scenery for a few long seconds: the still-damaged buildings, the construction work. “It didn’t help him much this last time though.”
I withheld my sigh. I wanted to saysomuch, but knew I had to bite my tongue.
“There was no storm when he was hit,” I offered gently. “No thunder, no rain. He wasn’t reckless or foolish. It was just a freak accident.”
He nodded solemnly, his mouth a grim line. “I’ve heard that before.”
And there it was.
A painful truth that he’d lived through this before.
As simple as that.
We drove in silence the rest of the way. There was nothing I could say, nothing I could add.
As we pulled into the hospital car park, I saw him in a different light. Yep, he was a lot like Jeremiah—that was true—but there were differences too.
His father was gaunt, the lines on his face were ingrained with almost thirty years of grief. There was a dark cloud over him, and though he’d smiled when I first met him, I could see now that it was just a conscious effort at an expected facial expression.
Whereas Jeremiah still laughed, he still had light in his eyes. His father didn’t.
I had to wonder if he’d smiled at all since Jeremiah’s mother died.
And Rowan’s words came back to me.
“If Diah died, I’d like to think it’d make me hold my kids tighter, love them harder. But you just never know. I’d be a forever-changed man, too. It’d break me. And I’m pretty sure after seeing what you went through with Jeremiah these last few days, it’d break you too.”
And I knew exactly what Rowan had said was true.
Jeremiah’s father broke the day his wife died. I didn’t know what kind of man he was before, but I’d hazard a guess that the light inside him died alongside her. And I understood, I could sympathise. Because Jeremiah almost died and it damn near almost broke me too.
So yeah, like Rowan had also said, I could maybe sympathise with Jeremiah’s dad a little.
I pulled into a parking spot and shut off the engine. “Let’s go see him. He was sleeping when I left him, so hopefully he’s had a good rest.”
Mr Overton gave another nod and we headed inside. His nervousness ratcheted up a notch with every step, and he stopped dead when he realised I was taking him to the ICU.
