“He’ll be okay in the car?” she asked.
Bowie caught Brystol staring at him in the rearview mirror. He winked at her and couldn’t help but grin. That was his kid, and he couldn’t have been happier. “We’re going to leave the windows down for him. He’ll be fine—I promise.”
Brystol didn’t look so sure as she nuzzled Luke’s neck. Bowie was going to have to make sure he brought her out here to check on him often. Being in the hospital wasn’t his idea of a fun time anyway, so using Luke as an excuse worked in his favor. Plus, it gave him more time with Brystol, and that was something he wouldn’t pass up for anything.
The hospital was small and not equipped to handle major traumas. Broken bones, concussions, minor vehicle accidents, and the occasional nail through the hand were what they mostly saw. When news had broken of Austin’s boat going down, the hospital had been flooded with people. They had come out in droves to donate blood in the event he needed it and to show support, even though he would’ve been airlifted to Seattle. His friends, though, had been down on the docks, loading boats for the search effort. Despite the storm, the search and rescue efforts had been well underway and had already pulled Grady from the water. When he had arrived here, his parents had obviously been relieved. Yet, all eyes had remained on the double doors, waiting for another stretcher.
Sometimes, Bowie wondered if the eyes were all still waiting. He had lost count of how many search and recovery missions had happened since that night. He, himself, had even gone diving in hopes of recovering Austin’s body. Every time he heard on the news of remains being found, his hopes soared that it was Austin so they could finally lay him to rest. And if his hopes rose, he couldn’t begin to imagine what Carly went through each time.
She lay there peacefully. Bowie had expected to see her in one of those hospital-issued gowns, but she was looking as regal as ever with her hair done and dressed in a maroon sweater. He studied her for a moment, wondering if he had been around after Austin died, if she would have told him about Brystol. Unfortunately, he just didn’t think she would’ve. Whether Brystol was his or not, she saw the girl as an extension of Austin somehow and was going to keep that information to herself as long as possible.
Brystol stood next to Bowie and leaned into him. He wasn’t sure if it was intentional or not, but he welcomed the affection. He put his arm around her shoulder and leaned down to whisper in her ear. “If you want to get out of here, just say the word and we’ll go. You don’t have to stay.” She nodded against him and turned away. Bowie watched as she went back to her mom, who was standing at the nurses’ station with Simone, getting an update.
He hesitated before crossing the threshold into the room. He pulled the hard plastic chair closer to the bed and sat down. For the life of him he couldn’t grasp why hospitals insisted on using the most uncomfortable furniture. His lower back was sure to be aching by the time he was ready to go.
Carly opened her eyes, and Bowie reached for her hand. He didn’t want to be nice to her. He wanted to yell, to curse her out, and tell her he wished he had never met her. He wanted to ask her why. Why would she hide something so important as a child from him? But those words would never leave his mouth. The damage had been done, and there was nothing she could say now to repair her actions.
“Love them,” she muttered groggily.
“Love who?” he asked, leaning forward. He wanted to hear her say their names.
“My girls. My Bs. Love them.”
He smiled, but it wasn’t for her; it was for them. “I plan to, for the rest of my life.” He was being completely honest with her about that. He had no intentions of ever stopping.
“Home.”
Bowie wasn’t sure what she was talking about, but he went ahead and talked anyway. “Your home will be fine, Carly. Construction is moving along on the inn, and it’ll be open again in no time. I went into your kitchen. I know you didn’t want me to, but I wanted to make sure everything was up to code. It’s beautiful. Simone did a really great job.” After you destroyed it, he thought.
A nurse came in, interrupting him.
“How is she?” Bowie asked.
“It won’t be long now,” she said solemnly. “She sure does like her visitors, though.”
That statement confused him. Who else had come to see her? “Do you know who was here?”