Jeremiah by Kris Michaels

Chapter 23

A year and a half later:

“Are you all right?” Eden waddled up to him and he wrapped his arm around her. She was eight months pregnant with their son and he was a big boy who would be delivered via C-section in twenty-eight days—if he didn’t make his appearance sooner.

“I’ll be okay. I wish he’d told me before it came to this.” Jamison’s calls had lessened over the last year, but he and Eden had been so busy with their life that he hadn’t noticed. It turned out that his friend had been fighting a brain tumor and his wife called this afternoon, letting him know Jamison had entered hospice.

“You’re going to see him, right?” She sat down in his office chair and propped her swollen ankles up on his waste bin.

He sighed and shook his head. “Not with you being this close…”

Eden rubbed her stomach and eyed him. “Nope, not happening. You will go and say goodbye to your friend. I’ll be fine, Gen is here, and so is Zeke if anything goes wrong.”

“Zeke is not an OB doc.” Jeremiah crossed his arms.

“Look, you know and I know you will regret not seeing Jamison one last time. Go, tell him how much he has meant to you and then come home to me and… Galen?”

Jeremiah made an exaggerated shudder, “God, no. Veto.”

Eden sighed and patted her very round belly. “Don’t worry, baby. We’ll figure it out before you come. Your daddy is going to get online and buy plane tickets right now. Yes, he is.” She looked up at him. “Don’t make me a liar, go.” She shooed him toward his computer that he kept on another desk so he could talk to his patients without looking around a monitor.

“I don’t like it.”

“We don’t care. It is the right thing to do and you’re going to do it.” Eden lifted an eyebrow at him.

“Fine, but I’m making sure you have someone at the house with you at all times. Zeke can watch you at the clinic where you shouldn’t be working.”

Eden lifted her hands in exasperation. “I work half-days. I’d go out of my head sitting at the house watching the chickens all day. Babe, we’ll be fine. Please, go and see your friend.”

Jeremiah went to her and leaned over her, giving her a kiss before he dipped down and kissed her belly. “Your momma is the best woman in the world.”

Eden chuckled and extended a hand to him. “Doubtful, but the one thing that is certain is she needs to use the bathroom again.”

Jeremiah helped her out of the chair and watched as his beautiful wife and son toddled out of the office. He glanced at the computer and closed his eyes. The brunt of the problem was he really didn’t want to say goodbye to Jamison. He didn’t want to think of a world where his friend wasn’t there to talk to and to laugh with, but he’d go and, as Eden said, let the man know what his friendship had meant.

* * *

The man lying in the hospital bed wasn’t the man he remembered. Skin and bone, bald, and no eyebrows or eyelashes, he was pale against the white sheets. Jeremiah steeled himself and went into the room. He sat down beside the head of the bed on a small stool and put his hand over Jamison’s. He could tell Jamison’s wife spent a lot of time here. There were books, magazines, and needlepoint scattered around the comfortable chair beside his bed.

Memories of the time he’d spent with Jamison rolled through his mind. The indelible impact the man had made on his life was so much greater than the memories could represent.

Jamison jerked and opened his eyes, immediately looking to the chair where Marge usually sat.

Jeremiah applied light pressure to his hand. “It’s all right. I’m here.”

Jamison turned his head only the smallest degree as if the movement was too much. Jeremiah leaned in so Jamison could see him. “Not supposed to tell you.”

Jeremiah nodded. “I’m glad she did. You don’t get to cheat me out of saying goodbye, you old pain in my ass.”

The man chuckled softly. “That’s you.”

“Maybe. I wish you would have told me. I could have been here for you.”

With effort, Jamison moved his head back and forth, once. “No. Dying is a solitary event.”

“The people who love you will beg to differ.” He held Jamison’s cold, bone-thin hand in his. “You’ve meant the world to me. From the first day we met we gelled. I have a father I love, but I picked you to help me grow, and in that process, I was honored to acknowledge that I had two fathers. I’m going to be straight with you. I love you and I don’t want to say goodbye to you, I don’t want you to leave.” Jeremiah let a tear run down his cheek. Fuck it, his emotions were valid, and Jamison was a second father to him.

The frail body on the bed closed his eyes and then reopened them. “You are my son.” His skeletal hand skimmed his body and landed on his chest. “Here. Be happy. Be good to yourself.”

Jeremiah nodded. “I am happy.”

Jamison took a shaky breath. “Talk to my boss. Promise me.”

“Sure. Anything. I promise.”

Jamison gave a ghost of a smile and closed his eyes. “Good. So tired.”

“I know. Rest now. I’ll come back later.” He stared at the face of his mentor, friend, and yes, second father. The stress of talking dissolved as Jamison’s body rested. He stood up and leaned forward, kissing the skeletal forehead. “Sleep in peace, my friend. You’re loved.”

He stepped outside the room and nearly walked into a man. “Sorry.”

“Not a problem. Is he sleeping?”

Jeremiah looked at the man. He recognized the expensive cut of his suit and the hand-tailoring. The man was three inches taller than he was, which made him six feet five or six inches tall. “Yeah. I think our visit wore him out.”

“The toll of talking is getting harder for him to recover from. I’m Gabriel, his boss.”

Jeremiah shook the hand that was extended. “Jeremiah Wheeler.”

“Jeremiah, thank you so much for sitting with him for a while. I needed a quick break.” Jamison’s wife, Marge, hustled back down the hallway. “He’s sleeping?”

He nodded as Gabriel gave Marge a quick hug and then held her away as he spoke, “I told you you don’t have to do this by yourself.”

“Oh, the night nurses you provided are wonderful, but I can take care of him during the day. He put me through nursing school all those years ago, it is only right I take care of him now.” She misted up as she spoke and shook her head. “I don’t have many moments left with him and I’m going to be here for the ones we have. Now if you’ll excuse me, I’ll go check on him. He’s due his pain meds soon.” Marge slipped into the room.

Gabriel cocked his head in Jeremiah’s direction. “You’re the one that helped Victoria.”

Jeremiah’s eyebrows jumped. “How do you know Ms. Marshall?”

“It’s a long story. You’re located in Hollister now, right?”

Jeremiah nodded. “How do you know that?”

“Ah, Jamison is very proud of you.” Gabriel motioned toward a set of chairs in the small sitting area outside the bedroom where the hospital bed was now set up. “Are you busy with your practice?”

Jeremiah sat down and chuckled. “Busy? No. I have a couple cases from the county, and believe it or not, a motorcycle gang has been referring me. I worked with the president’s son, and they all sing my praises. It makes a rag-tag clientele list, to be sure.”

Gabriel nodded and leaned forward. “I have a proposition for you.”

Jeremiah waited, not drawing any conclusions on what type of proposition Jamison’s boss could toss his way. There was no way he was leaving Hollister.

“In conjunction with Frank Marshall, I’m building a small rehab center on his ranch. In our line of work, injuries happen, usually in battlefield conditions. My people deserve the very best chance at recovery I can give them. I’d like to put you on retainer to work with my people as they transition through the facility.”

He leaned forward, putting his elbows on his knees. “What type of caseload are we talking about?”

Gabriel sighed and shook his head. “We’re expanding quickly because of the current events around the world. I couldn’t give you a number. That will depend on operations. There will be other clients that I’d like assessed to make sure they are competent to continue work. Jamison used to handle those.” The man glanced at the shut door and sighed. “He told me you were the man for the job.”

Jeremiah sat back. “What you propose sounds interesting. When would you like to start?”

“The contractors are putting the finishing touches on several structures. They should finish the clinic by spring.”

“Send me the contract. I can give you my address.”

Gabriel lifted a hand. “I can get it. I’ll send you the contract and the compensation package. Congratulations, by the way. You and Eden are having a boy, right?”

Jeremiah blinked and sat back. “How did you know that? We’ve told no one the sex of the baby.”

Gabriel stood and buttoned his suit jacket. “I work for the world’s largest security firm. You were vetted and so was your wife. I don’t hire people I can’t trust or those who have secrets that could be used against them.”

Jeremiah stood. “Rather intrusive, isn’t it?”

Gabriel smiled. “Perhaps, but in the long run, it pays off.” He turned and walked to the closed door where Jamison rested. “I look forward to working with you, Jeremiah.” He opened the door and walked in.

Jeremiah leaned back and stared at the shut door. The man’s confidence should probably put him off but didn’t. If he was honest, he was running out of things to do to fill the days between patients. He had plenty of money. That had never been an issue, but the desire to work, to help, had been getting stronger. So, yeah, unless this Gabriel sent him a hack of a contract, he’d take on the patients that went through the little rehab center on the Marshall ranch.

He’d let Jamison know, too. For some reason, the man had wanted him to talk to Gabriel. He was glad now he could put Jamison’s worry to rest.

The door opened again, and Gabriel came out. He motioned toward Jeremiah. “He’d like to see you again. I don’t think…” Gabriel shook his head and swallowed hard.

Jeremiah bolted into the room. Marge sat on one side of the bed. Tears streamed down her face as she held Jamison’s hand. He moved up to the bed and took the man’s other hand.

“Jay, honey, Jeremiah’s here.” Marge tapped his hand softly.

Jamison opened his eyes partially. “Take care. The Shadows. Promise.”

He looked at Marge and she shook her head. She did not know what he was talking about. Jeremiah leaned forward and gently squeezed Jamison’s hand. “You have my word. I’ll take care of all of your shadows. I promise.”

Jamison’s body relaxed. He reached back and pulled the small stool over so he could sit down. Marge spoke to him. “He loves you. To him, you are the son we never had.”

“I love him the same way,” Jeremiah admitted.

Marge’s eyes filled with tears as Jamison’s labored breath lifted his chest. “Rest now, sweetheart. Everything’s done. You don’t have to worry about anything or anyone.”

They sat silently in the room together, holding Jamison’s hands for the next twenty minutes. When he stopped breathing, Marge reached up and kissed him tenderly. “I will always love you.”

Jeremiah stood and moved over to her, hugging her as her heart broke and their tears fell.