Unforgettable (Always Book 2)

by Lexxie Couper

  Shutting down the conflicted heat trying to creep over me, I shoved my phone into my hip pocket and went searching for sustenance. I needed some protein, some carbs, coffee and a bottle of water.

  One turkey-lettuce-and-Swiss on wheat later (Subway is a discombobulated tourist’s friend), I found a quiet park overlooking an even quieter street. The park was crowded with gum trees, the familiar foliage and distinct scent of eucalyptus filling me with a surreal sense of homesickness and comfort. Dropping onto a bench beneath one particularly large tree, I placed my water on the table in front of me, cupped my coffee with two hands, and closed my eyes. I drew in a deep breath, and then released it. I meditated like that for ten minutes, holding my warm coffee and letting my senses dance on the edge of awareness. Sunlight dappled my face, peaking from behind the leaves swaying in the gentle breeze, a breeze that played with my hair and rippled my shirt.

  Deep breath in. Deep breath out.

  But no matter how much I focused on my breathing, on slowing my heart rate and letting the tension flow from my muscles, in my mind was Tanner and Amanda. My gut tightened. Opening my eyes, I reached for my phone, scrolled through my contacts and dialed Mum.

  A cautious Hello? filled the connection after the sixth ring (yes, I counted them). It hit me then I had no idea what time it was in Sydney.

  Shit.

  “Mum,” I said, guilt slamming into me. I wasn’t being the best of sons at the moment. “It’s Brendon.”

  “Brendon?” Caution gave way to worry. “Is something wrong? Are you okay? What are you doing calling so early in the morning?”

  “I’m fine, Mum,” I lied. Man, what was I doing? “Actually, no I’m not.”

  “Do you want to come around?” Worry still laced her words, but now so did protective control. When it came to taking charge of delicate situations, Mum was brilliant. “Or do I need to send your father to get you? Where are you?”

  “I’m in San Diego.”

  Silence greeted my confession.

  “Okay, it may take him a little bit longer to get there, but if you give me an address . . .”

  I snorted out a laugh. God, I loved this woman. I don’t remember the last time I ever told her that, but I really loved her. “It’s okay, Mum. No need to send the cavalry. Or wake him up.”

  She snorted in return, a warm sound of affection. “Honey, it’s breakfast time. He’s standing right beside me, frowning. As is Caden. And Aunty Rachel. See? You’ve interrupted all our breakfasts. Now tell me why you’re in San Diego.”

  Scrunching up my face, I dropped my head to the table and head-butted its surface twice. “Ah man, Aunt Rachel’s there? And Caden?”

  “They are. I take it you forgot it’s your father’s birthday the day after tomorrow?”

  I head-butted the table again.

  “Brendon’s in trouble,” Caden chanted in a sing-song voice in the background.

  My cousin Caden O’Dea is twenty-two, studying to be a veterinarian at the University of Melbourne, and rarely takes anything serious. He’s great, dedicated to a cause – animal welfare – and looks so much like me we’re often mistaken for brothers. Of course, I’d never tell him I thought he was great.

  Mum laughed. “That he is. Unless he has a good reason for being in San Diego. Brendon? That reason is . . .?”

  Okay, here goes. “I have a son.”

  This confession was also met with silence. I couldn’t help but picture Mum’s face. Oh man.

  “You have a son?” she repeated.

  “He what?” Dad’s voice boomed through the connection. Suffice to say, I didn’t miss the shock in it, not even from the other side of the world.

  “You have a son in San Diego?” Mum said.

  “Holy crap, dude.” Caden sounded as stunned as Dad.

  “I do,” I said, rolling my forehead side to side on the table. “His name is Tanner. He’s eighteen months old.”

  “And Amanda Sinclair is the mother.”

  It wasn’t a question. Mum isn’t dumb. Amanda was the only American girl I’d had any kind of relationship with. The censure in Mum’s statement told me she remembered the broken heart Amanda had left me with as well as I did.

  I straightened on the bench seat and nodded at the empty park. “She is.”

  “How long have you known?”

  I glanced at my watch. “About seven hours. Give or take a few minutes.”

  “Oh, Brendon.” Worry flooded Mum’s murmur.

  I heard muffled voices in the background. I assumed Caden was bringing his mother, my aunt, up to speed. It was either that, or Dad was in the process of cursing my name and his sister was trying to calm him down. Maybe both.

  “He’s gorgeous, Mum,” I said into the phone. For some reason I was having difficulty swallowing. And yet, at the thought of Tanner, a smile stretched my lips. I couldn’t stop it. “Looks like a mini version of me.”

  “So there’s no question of his parentage?”

  I didn’t get angry at her question. It was a natural one, born from a maternal need to look out for her son. “No.”

  “Okay, so when are we going to meet him?”

  Something hot and wet stung my eyes. I blinked. My vision blurred. Damn it. “That’s . . . I don’t . . .” I stopped, swallowing the hot lump suddenly in my throat.

  “Talk to me, Brendon,” Mum said, the command gentle. “What’s going on?”

  “He’s got leukemia, Mum. Philadelphia chromosome-positive leukemia. He’s in the New Dawn Children’s Hospital here in San Diego. His doctor, Parker Waters, said he has six months to live, maybe less, unless they can find a bone marrow match.”

  “Oh, honey.” I felt Mum’s grief. It was clear in her voice.

  “What’s going on?” Dad asked in the background. “What’s with the ‘oh honey’s? He’s not five, y’know. He goes around sticking in his wick without protection then he needs to—”

  “Brendon?”

  I blinked at Caden’s voice in my ear. “Hey, dude. What’s . . . where’s Mum gone?”

  “She’s currently beating up your dad.” He chuckled. “She’s got a good swing on her. What did you say to get her so fired up?”

  “My son has leukemia.”

  “Holy fuck, dude.” Fuck. Not crap. Caden didn’t swear much, especially in front of his mum, or my parents. “Oh God, man, I’m sorry. Is there anything I can do?”

  I smiled, a wobbly smile of gratitude my cousin had no hope of seeing. “Do my laundry?” I joked, needing to crack the suffocating tension. “I left a pile of it behind. It’s going to be stinking up the place by the time I get back.”

  Caden laughed. It was the most gentle, un-Caden laugh I’d ever heard. “Yeah, that’s not going to happen, dude. How bout I – whup, here’s your mum back.”

  “Brendon, we’re flying over,” she said, brisk and businesslike. I don’t know what she’d said to Dad, but I couldn’t hear him in the background. “Your father will take some time off, I’ll call work in the—”

  “No, Mum,” I cut her off. “It’s okay. I’m okay. We’ll be okay here. I’m just waiting to get the word I’m a match, and the doc will perform the transplant. I didn’t ring to upset you. Just thought I should let you know where I was.”

  “I don’t mean to pull the medical-slash-nurse card on you, honey, but you know the chances of you being a match are—”

  “Mum, I gotta go,” I said. I couldn’t have this argument with her. I’d barely handled having it with myself. “I’ll ring again when I know more, okay.”

  For the third time, silence stretched over the connection, and then Mum said, “Okay.”

  A knot released in my chest. I closed my eyes and pictured her again. “I love you, Mum,” I said finally. “Tell Dad he’s not too bad either.”

  There were tears in her laughter as she hung up. I was very aware she’d brought the conversation to an end before it got too maudlin or sappy. As I said – or maybe I didn’t, but I should have – she’s i
ncredible. They both were. It was an honor to be their son.

  Glancing at the time on my phone, I contemplated calling Maci. It would be nice to hear her voice again, and despite the fact Raph and I hadn’t always seen eye to eye, or let’s face it, got along – I did almost break his jaw once, after all – I could handle sitting down with another Aussie guy and having a beer. It wasn’t my normal routine, but there was nothing normal or routine about my life at the moment. Hell, I hadn’t exercised since I’d left Australia.

  My thumb hovered over Maci’s number. And then chirped with a new message from Amanda.

  If you change your mind, this is my address.

  I studied it, imagined being back there in the apartment with her. Instead of here in a park. Alone. Gritting my teeth, I shoved my phone back into my pocket and stood. Meditation hadn’t worked. Talking to Mum – and Caden – had only choked me up to the point where I felt homesick. What I needed right now was something from my normal routine.

  Tossing my cold coffee into the closest rubbish bin, I checked out the surrounding area with a sweeping gaze, noted where the sun sat low in the afternoon sky, and began to run.

  Exercise was a vital part of my life, you may have already noticed. In my opinion, it’s the foundation for life. A strong foundation can handle a lot of weight on top of it, without stress or cracking.

  I’ve got to say though, I’d never been this close to cracking. A strong body is a strong mind as the saying goes, but hairline cracks were beginning to undermine my strength. I needed to work on my foundation before I could load more onto it, and with what was to come for me and Tanner and Amanda . . . well, a strong foundation would be more than vital. It was crucial.

  Fixing my gaze on the western horizon, I pounded the pavement. Jogging wasn’t my favourite cardio activity, but it got the job done. I headed west, the sinking sun my target, and listened to my breathing. Listened to my heart. No thinking. Just existing. No controlling of emotions, just pushing my body to a level beyond comfort. A cleansing of my mind, spirit and energy.

  I don’t know how long I’d been running when my phone vibrated in my back pocket. I stopped straight away and yanked it out. I looked at the screen. My heart thumped in my ears, a frantic beat that had nothing to do with my impromptu run.

  “Damn it,” I muttered, finding a message and smiley face emoji from Heather. Heather. Not Parker Waters.

  Hey, Biceps. Just letting you know No Direction is alive and well. He tried to escape yesterday evening, but I caught him just as he was flipping across your living room, dragging a suitcase behind him. That’s one strong fish you have there. I promised him if he stayed put until you got home I’d take him to Luna Park as a reward. Hope all is well in the States. Remember, if Amanda breaks your heart again, I’ll break her nose. Kidding. But I’ll glare at her fiercely. Yeah, I’m that tough. Xoxoxo Heather.

  As much as the message made me smile – and miss her, damn it – it twisted my stomach into knots. Why hadn’t I heard from Parker yet? Was there a problem with my blood sample? Should I head back to the hospital, maybe get them to do it again?

  Maybe my phone wasn’t working? Sure I’d received texts and made a call since putting in the new SIM, but what if no one could call me? What would Parker do then?

  “Jesus, Osmond,” I muttered, shaking my head and shoving my phone back into my pocket. “You need to get a grip.”

  I started running again, still heading west. I hit the Pacific Ocean an hour later. Stopping at a metal railing, with a stretch of beach between me and the water, and a tourist trap complete with a rollercoaster and boardwalk shops behind me, I stared at the ocean. Sweat dripped from my face and stung my eyes. My chest heaved, each breath I pulled into my lungs tasting of sea salt and seaweed. Pressing my palms to my knees, I focused on returning my heart rate and breathing to normal. Focused on the sensation of air entering my body, and leaving it. Inhalation. Exhalation. Take it in. Let it go.

  Let it go. Was it time to let Amanda go? Or time to take her in again? She’d torn me apart, but was I ready to let her remake me? Did I have that in me? Could I even be put back together? For Tanner’s sake, should I? Didn’t a kid deserve a stable family environment? Could Amanda and I be that for him? Or had she hurt me too much?

  Huh. Too much. Here I was, a guy who prided himself on never backing down from the challenges life presented him, and I was contemplating emotional defeat? Was I really so weak as to condemn Tanner a life without both his parents in it? Was I that pathetic?

  Or was I just that scared? Scared of how much I’d loved her once, and how easy it would be for me to love her with equal passion, equal measure, again. That kind of love left a guy vulnerable. Being vulnerable sucked.

  But was it worth it, to see Tanner smile? To see Amanda smile? Shit, was it worth it to smile myself?

  Before I’d learned Tanner had leukemia, I’d been prepared to ask Amanda to marry me. I’d imagined a life with the three of us in blissful joy, a family. We could still be that, couldn’t we? We could do that. We could start right now. And after the bone marrow transplant, when the stem cells from my marrow replaced the cancer cells in Tanner’s, we could show life just have strong we were.

  I just had to let go what I couldn’t control and accept that there was a light at the end of the tunnel, and that light would shine on our family, give it strength, give it warmth, and eventually, I’d have the strength to allow myself to surrender to my feelings for Amanda again.

  We could do that. It wasn’t just optimism. I felt it. In my gut. In my soul. We could do that.

  Straightening, I pulled in a deep, slow breath, preparing to turn around and run back the way I’d come. Back to the hospital. Back to Tanner and Amanda.

  No, shit. Amanda said she was going home. To her apartment. What was her address again? I’d have to catch a taxi. Swiping at a bead of sweat assaulting my eye, I tugged my phone from my pocket and opened Amanda’s text message conversation.

  And froze when the Incoming Call screen appeared.

  I stared at the number. One of only three I knew in the States. Parker Waters’ number. The same number printed on his business card.

  A prickling heat razed over my body. My skin turned to gooseflesh. My heart slammed into my throat. Mouth dry, I pressed my thumb to the Accept button and raised the phone to my ear.

  “G’day, doc.”

  “Brendon.” His Southern drawl sounded all the more pronounced over the phone. “Where are you now?”

  The tension and unease I’d just jogged out of my system claimed me again at his blunt question, and at the lack of the playful humor in his voice that I’d come to expect. Frowning, I looked around myself. “Next to a beach,” I answered, suddenly feeling very heavy. Weighted. “And there’s a rollercoaster behind me. Why? Do you have the results? Do you need me back ASAP to begin the transplant? I jogged here, but I’d be able to get a taxi easy enough.”

  I was talking fast, not coming up for air or letting Parker get a word in. I don’t know why, but I didn’t want him to say anything.

  “Or,” I went on, my eyes flicking over the water beyond the sand, water so blue it hurt to look at. The kind of water Brendon Osmond back home would throw himself into with joyous glee. “I’m sure Amanda will come fetch me if I call her. We shouldn’t be long. Maybe an hour max. You could tell whoever’s going to be doing the surgery – is it surgery? To extract my bone marrow? – anyway, you could probably tell them to start getting ready because we’ll be there soon and everything will be—”

  “Brendon,” Parker cut in.

  I squeezed my eyes shut at the gentle placation in his voice. I knew why it was there. I knew. I knew and I didn’t want it to fucking be there. I didn’t want—

  “You need to come back to the hospital,” Parker said, calm compassion in the words. “We need to talk. You and Amanda. We need to discuss—”

  “I’m not a match,” I said, staring at the waves again. At the beautiful blue sky. At the
incredibly beautiful day. “Am I?”

  Silence filled the connection. To be honest, I think I’d had my fill of silent stretches for one day.

  “Am I?” I repeated.

  “No,” Parker answered with a sigh. “I’m sorry, Brendon. But you’re not.”

  Ten

  Go, Robby. Yay

  “Does Amanda know?”

  Parker hesitated again.

  “Have you told her, doc?”

  “No.”

  The heavy weight crushing me to the ground grew heavier. I leaned against the metal rail, for a moment incapable of supporting myself. Around me, people continued to go on as if nothing was wrong in the world – laughing, smiling, enjoying life. In the distance, the rollercoaster screamed down its main drop, the passengers wailing with delight. I gripped my phone and stared at the structure, the rises and falls and abrupt turns . . .

  “Is she at the hospital?” I asked Parker. The afternoon sun beat down on me, drying the sweat on my skin until I felt like I was wrapped in taut plastic.

  “I was in Tanner’s room five minutes ago,” he answered, his tone apologetic, “and she wasn’t there. Her sister was. She and Tanner were playing Transformers. Chase does a very good Megatron.”

  A weak chuckle escaped from me. Nothing like any sound I’d made before.

  “Chase told me she sent Amanda back to her apartment,” Parker went on. “To get some rest, eat some food that wasn’t from the hospital cafeteria.”

  “Okay.” I pushed myself from the rail, the ocean to my back, and began walking. “Thanks, doc.”

  “He’s a fighter, Brendon,” Parker said, the apology in his voice replaced with determination. “One of the toughest kids I’ve met. We will find a match. I promise.”

  I nodded. A strange sense of being detached from everything rolled through me. “I have to go.”

  “I’m calling Amanda now. Normally I’d ask her to come into the hospital for this kind of news, but if you’re going where I think you’re going—”

  “I am.” Yes, I was going to Amanda’s place. I wanted to be there for her. To give her my strength . . . if she wanted it. The reason she’d called me, the reason she’d wanted me here was to save our son. To be a bone marrow match. And I wasn’t a match. I couldn’t save him.