Riptide

quiet now, won't say a word. I'm worried, Becca, really worried.
    I keep trying to get him to talk about the man who kidnapped him,
    to tell me a little bit about him and what he said, but Sam just shakes

his head. He won't say a word. The TV said that man was dead, that
    he set himself on fire and hurled himself at you. Is that true?"
    "Very true. I think you should take Sam to a child psychiatrist,
    Tyler."
    "Those flimflam bloodsuckers? They'll start psychoanalyzing
    me, claiming I'm not a fit father, tell me I need to lie on a couch
    for at least six years and pay them big bucks. They'll say it's about
    me, not Sam. No way, Becca. No, he just wants to see you."
    "I'm sorry, but I can't leave here for another week, at least."
    Then she heard a little boy's wail, "Becca!"
    It was Sam and he sounded like he was dying. She didn't know
    what to do. It was her fault that Sam was having problems, all her
    fault. "Put Sam on the phone,Tyler. Let me try to talk to him."
    He did, but there was only silence. Sam wouldn't say a word.
    Tyler said, "It's bad, Becca, really bad."
    "Please take him to a child shrink,Tyler. You need help."
    "Come back, Becca. You must."
    "I will as soon as I can," she said finally, and hung up the phone.
    "Problem?" a nurse asked, a thick black brow arched.
    "Nothing but," Becca said, and lightly touched her fingers to her
    right arm. The burns were healing and were itching a bit now.
    "Problems are like that," the nurse said. "It rains problems, and
    then, all of a sudden, it's a sunny day, and the problems have just
    evaporated away."
    "I hope you're right," Becca said.
    The next day, Adam was much improved, even managed to joke
    with his nurse, who patted his butt, and her father came down with
    pneumonia and nearly died.
    "It's nuts," Becca said to Agent Austin. "He survives a bullet to
    the heart and gets pneumonia."

"There's got to be some irony in that," Agent Austin said, shaking
    his head, "but no matter, it still sucks."
    "He'll pull through," the doctor said over and over again to
    Becca, taking her hands in his. Maybe the doctor didn't like the
    irony, either, Becca thought, lightly touching her father's shoulder.
    It was odd, when she touched him--settled her hand on his arm,
    laid her hand over his, lightly touched his shoulder--his breathing
    calmed, his whole body seemed to relax, to ease.
    And when he was finally awake, his mind alert, and she touched
    him, he smiled at her, and she saw the pleasure in his eyes, deep and
    abiding. And when she whispered, "I love you, Dad," he closed his
    eyes briefly, and she knew she didn't 'want to see his tears. "I love
    you," she said again, for good measure, and kissed his cheek. "We're
    together now. I know you love Adam like a son, but I'm very
    pleased that he isn't your son. If he were, then I couldn't marry
    him. Now you'll get him anyway."
    "If he ever makes you cry, I'll kill him," said her father.
    "Nah, I'll do it."
    "Becca, thank you for telling me about all your mother's things
    safely in storage in New York."
    He'd heard her, actually heard her speaking to him. And since
    he'd heard her speaking to him, just maybe her mother had heard
    her as well, maybe she did have a final connection with her. "You're
    welcome. As I said then, it's a start."
    "Yes," Thomas said, smiling up at his daughter. "It's a very good
    start."

    Adam was now walking up and down the corridor, ill-tempered,
    his back throbbing, his arm throbbing, feeling useless,

wanting to hit someone because he felt so damned helpless. At least
    the damned catheter was out.
    He was carping and carrying on when Becca laughed and said,
    "All right, you've finally driven me away. My father is doing fine,
    the pneumonia is kicked, and I'm going to Riptide to see Sam."
    "No," he said, leaning against the hospital corridor wall, utterly
    appalled. He wanted to grab her and tuck her under his arm. "I
    don't want you going there alone. I don't trust McBride. I don't
    want you out of my sight. I'd really like it if you would sleep in my
    bed with me and I could hold on to you all night."
    She realized she'd rather like that as well, but she said, "There's
    no danger, Adam. How could there be? I'm not going to see Tyler.
    I'm going to see what's going on with Sam. Don't forget, Adam, it's
    my fault that Krimakov even took him, my fault that Sam got traumatized.
    I've got to fix it. Tyler has nothing to do with it."
    "Dammit, it was Krimakov's fault. Give it another couple