Honor

what was going on. I think he thought he ought to be in here telling them how to get the oxygen started.”
Lacey waited for Kevin’s familiar grinning response to tales of his father’s efforts to manage life on his terms. Instead he winced. Lacey caught his effort to hide it and asked, “Are you in pain? Should I call the nurse?”
He grimaced. “I feel as if I’ve been run over by a truck.”
“You look like it, too.”
He reached for her hand again and when she finally placed it in his, he held on tight. “You were right, weren’t you, Lace?”
“About what?”
“The work. I got my priorities all screwed up.”
Lacey hadn’t wanted to wring an admission from Kevin like this. Besides, the truth of the matter was that work was only part of the problem. Worse was the fact that the man who’d been her lover and best friend had too often seemed little more than a stranger.
“Now’s not the time to talk about that,” she told him.
“Can we talk about it, though?” he said, a sense of urgency in his voice.
“I always thought we could talk about anything,” she replied softly, unable to hide the regret.
Blue eyes pinned her. “Until I shut you out,” he said.
“I never said that.”
“But it’s the truth. I did. I’m sorry.”
“Kevin—”
“I want us to start over. When I get out of here, I want to go away, take a long vacation and make things right between us again. I’ve missed you these past months, more than I can say.” His voice faltered. “I just…I wanted you to know.”
When she didn’t say a word, couldn’t squeeze a sound around the tears that clogged her throat, he prodded, “Lace, what do you think? Can we give it a try?”
A part of her thought it was too late. A part of her wanted to scream that this sudden change of attitude was too easy, a quick reaction to a health crisis that would pass as soon as he felt more like himself again.
And yet a part of her yearned for the way it used to be between them, wanted to believe it was possible to recapture the richness of their love.
“We’ll talk about it when you’re out of here,” she said evasively.
Every bit as stubborn as his father, Kevin wouldn’t let it go that easily. “You won’t back out?”
Lacey drew in a deep breath and met his gaze evenly. “Of talking?” she asked. “No. I won’t back out.”
Kevin sighed then, obviously content with that much of a commitment. His eyes slowly drifted closed. He was still clinging to her hand, the touch apparently as much comfort for him as it was for her.
* * *
Kevin knew he was going to have a fight on his hands. He’d seen that much in Lacey’s brilliant blue eyes, even when she’d reluctantly agreed to talk about the future. For some reason a fight didn’t scare him anymore, not half as much as the thought of losing her forever.
Besides, nothing about his relationship with Lacey had ever been easy, not from the day he’d told his parents about her, anyway. Before that, they had spent long, quiet hours talking, sharing innermost thoughts that no boy dared to share with his buddies. Lacey’s gentle smiles had brought sunshine into his life from the day they’d met.
More than simply his friend, she was his social conscience. She was the first person to make him realize that not everyone was as fortunate as he was, that he had an obligation to look beyond his own narrow world. From the first moment she had looked at him like a hero, he’d wanted to prove himself worthy of her.
Then Brandon had started throwing his weight around, threatening Lacey, scowling at Kevin, swearing that the Halloran name would be sullied forever if he dared to marry a woman lacking the requisite Boston pedigree.
The truth of the matter was that Brandon had been afraid. He’d spent his whole life making plans for the day when Kevin would take his rightful place at Halloran Industries. But Kevin hadn’t been interested. Brandon had blamed Lacey for that. He’d accused her of ruining his son’s life, of forcing him to choose between her and his heritage.
Infuriated by the unjust accusation, Lacey had faced Brandon down, her shoulders squared, her chin jutting out, her eyes filled with fire. Only her hands, clenched at her sides, gave away her nervousness.
Her voice steady, she had said, “You’re the one making him choose. I want Kevin to be happy. If Halloran Industries makes him happy, it’s fine with me. But he says he wants to do something else with his life.”
Kevin had never been more proud of her. Brandon had appeared stunned by her spunk and by her blunt words. He’d turned to Kevin. “Is what she’s saying right? You don’t want to work with me?”
“It’s not that, Dad. You think of Halloran Industries as some sort of family dynasty. I need to prove myself. I don’t want something that’s handed to me.”
“You’re just one of those damned hippies. Just look at you. Your hair’s too long. You dress like a bum.”
“I dress like everyone else.”
“Not like everyone else in this family,” Brandon said in disgust. “You think we should be ashamed of having money. Well, dammit, I worked for every penny we have. So did your granddad, and you will, too.”
“You’re acting as if clothes are the only things that matter. What about having a social conscience? Doesn’t that matter at all to you?”
Brandon slammed his fist down on his desk. “You act as if you invented it. You’ll have to work for what you get at Halloran, same as I did. And you’ll be expected to share with the community, the same way I have, the way your granddad did.”
“It won’t be the same and you know it. You think writing a check covers you for all eternity. What about fighting for what’s right, fighting to make a difference? That’s what I care about.