Overworked

by Dark Angel

  “Liam.” Her voice is full of relief, and I pull her into my arms, hoping to comfort her, but taking just as much comfort when she looks up at me. She looks worried, but not to the point that she’s fearful for Dad’s life. I blow out a heavy sigh. Thank God.

  “Can we see him?” I ask.

  Mom shakes her head. “The doctors are with him right now, running some tests. They should be here with a report soon, and then we should be able to go back.”

  “How serious is it?”

  She presses her lips together. “I’m not sure, but from what I’ve gathered, he’s going to be okay.”

  I nod, my initial fears somewhat abated. “What happened?”

  “We were just in bed, and all of a sudden he was clutching his chest and struggling to breathe.”

  I look at her suspiciously. “Just in bed?”

  Despite the circumstances, my mother has the audacity to laugh and give me a wink. “We may be getting older, Liam, but we aren’t dead.”

  Aw, fuck.

  I groan. “Mother. Seriously?”

  She lets out a throaty laugh. “You asked,” she says with a shrug, her eyes twinkling.”

  “Jesus Christ, Mom.” I roll my eyes and catch Cara hiding a smile behind her hand. “And that’s my mother for you.”

  Mom looks back and forth between Cara and me, her eyebrows arched.

  “Mom, this is Cara. Cara, my mother.”

  Cara steps forward and extends her hand, a small smile on her lips. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Mrs. Donovan. Though I’m sorry it’s not under better circumstances.”

  Mom takes Cara’s hand in both of hers and gives her an appraising look before breaking into a genuine smile. “The pleasure is all mine, my dear.”

  She looks like she’s about to say more. Perhaps give Cara a full interrogation. I mean, I did just show up to a serious family thing with a woman in tow. That’s never happened. Like, ever. And my mother is an intelligent woman. She’ll recognize that Cara isn’t like the women I usually go out with. Though I’m not quite sure what that means right now.

  Instead of subjecting Cara to questions that even I’m not ready to answer yet, I turn the conversation back to the matter at hand.

  “Okay, Mom. Tell me everything. Has Dad been having any other issues we should be aware of? Shortness of breath? Has he been taking his blood pressure medication? How’s his diet been? You know he has a stash of candy in his closet, don’t you?”

  My mother places a hand on my arm with an affectionate smile. “Did you go to medical school when I wasn’t paying attention?”

  I chuckle. I know she’s trying to lighten the mood, but I’m serious. I can function much better in this moment if I feel some sense of control over the situation. Because I fucking hate not being in control. And that’s exactly how I feel right now.

  “Seriously, Mom. You’ve been keeping him in check, right?”

  “Well,” she says slowly, “you know your father has a mind of his own. There’s only so much I can do to make him behave.”

  Don’t I know it. My dad was the original lady killer. Like some old school movie star who can charm the pants off any woman. And before he met my mom, that was exactly what he did. The apple certainly didn’t fall far from the tree in our case, something Mom has told me plenty of times. Followed immediately by her assertion that one day I’ll meet my match and I won’t be able to look at another woman ever again.

  Up until a few days ago, I dismissed that notion without a second thought. But I’m starting to wonder if my mom knows what she’s talking about. She came into my dad’s life, all soft, striking beauty but with an iron will and feisty attitude to match and he was never the same. At least to hear him tell it. I’ve never seen two people more in love. Ironic, considering love is something I’ve sworn off for years.

  I laugh lightly, slinging my arm around my mom’s shoulders and winking at her. “I don’t believe that for a second. You trying to tell me you don’t have Dad right under your thumb?”

  She smirks slightly and lifts a shoulder. “Perhaps.”

  Cara lets out a little laugh, and I meet her eyes with a grin.

  Mom looks between us again, smiling at Cara. “I like this woman, Liam.”

  Yeah. Me too. It doesn’t even feel weird that she’s here with us in what should be a private family matter.

  “I’m going to get some coffee,” my mother says, slipping out from under my arm after she gives me a quick peck on the cheek.

  Then she’s gone, leaving Cara and I alone in the otherwise empty waiting room. She slips her arms around my waist and looks up at me.

  “You okay?”

  I stare down at her, and it hits me full on just how different she is from any of the other women I’ve ever dated. I mean, I obviously recognized that at some point, but not like this. I can see in her clear eyes that she truly cares how I’m doing right this minute. There’s no pretense. She’s not thinking about my money. Conniving about how she can get her hands on it and what I can do for her. Not concerned with how I can get her off with my huge cock—though I can certainly make her more than interested that. But that’s not the point. The point is that right now, standing here together, all she’s worried about is how I’m holding up. I don’t think any other woman has ever cared about anything below the surface when it comes to me.

  Except Cara.

  “I’m okay,” I say, almost mechanically. I’m putting on a good show of having it all together, laughing and joking with my mom, taking charge by asking all the right questions, trying to be a rock for her. But inside I’m a mess, and I will be until I see my dad for myself.

  She smiles as if she sees right through me, but all she does is place her palms on my chest and looks at me. “I’m here for you, Liam. Just so you know. Whatever you need.”

  Cara seems to know exactly the right thing to say, and I wonder if she’s been through something similar in her life. Before I can ask, my mom reappears, her shrewd eyes taking in the scene she walked in on.

  Cara steps to the side, dropping her hands from my waist, but before she can move too far away, I grab her hand and interlock my fingers with hers again. I don’t want her anywhere but by my side right now.

  It doesn’t escape Mom’s notice. “So, how did you two meet?” She smiles sweetly at Cara, but I know her curiosity is barely restrained.

  “At the swim club,” I say, then laughingly tell her the story of Cara spilling her drink all over me.

  “Hmm,” Mom says, her eyes still darting back and forth between us. “And how long have you been seeing each other?”

  “Oh, just a few days,” Cara says, waving her hand dismissively, as if we’re barely more than friends.

  Fuck that. I wrap my arm around her waist and tug her more tightly to me.

  “Why don’t we sit down and you can tell me more,” Mom says, a mischievous smile playing at her lips.

  I know she can’t wait to get the dirty details about this woman who is obviously getting to me. Normally I’d do anything to avoid a conversation like this, but right now it’s almost welcome compared to the alternative of sitting around in silence thinking about what’s going on with the doctors and my dad down the hall.

  “You know,” she begins, “I don’t think Liam has let me meet a single one of his dates since he was in high school.”

  I laugh, trying to make light of it. “That’s because you always mixed up their names.”

  Her eyebrows arch. “Then maybe you shouldn’t have changed girlfriends so fast.” She looks at Cara and gives her a conspiratorial little wink. “You know, Liam and his brother had new girlfriends every single week. I never knew what to expect with those two.”

  Cara’s gaze flicks to mine at the mention of a brother. Not ready to go there, I change the subject. “So, what about you, Cara? It’s only fair you tell us about all your boyfriends since my mother is intent to air all my dirty laundry.”

  She laughs. “I think everyone who has ev
er seen a tabloid knows all about your dirty laundry, Liam Donovan.”

  I roll my eyes and laugh, but for whatever reason, I don’t want Cara thinking about me as that guy. She doesn’t linger on it, though, and entertains us with a few funny stories of how her parents embarrassed her growing up.

  My mom sits there and watches us, and when I catch her eye a few minutes later, she has a knowing smile on her face like she sees something I don’t. I give her a questioning look, but she simply keeps chatting with Cara like their old friends.

  I know I should be freaked the fuck out that my mom and a woman I’m dating—because let’s face it, it’s more than one date and I don’t intend on this being the last, either, so we’re dating—are sitting here discussing childhood stories. But I’m not. It feels oddly normal.

  And I have no idea what to make of that.

  Cara

  “Mrs. Donovan?” A tall man in a long white coat asks, reading the name from a stack of document in his hands.

  “That’d be me,” Liam’s mom says, going up to her feet so fast you’d say she’s still in her twenties. Both Liam and I follow suit, eager to hear whatever the doctor has to say. “Any news?”

  “Yes,” the doctor says with a sigh and, for a moment, I ready myself for the bad news. But then he cracks a semi-serious smile and the lines in his face soften. “Mr. Donovan is going to be okay. We’ll still have to run some tests, just for precaution, but this wasn’t a life-or-death situation. You acted fast, Mrs. Donovan, and you got him here in time.”

  “Thank God,” she exhales, one hand over her heart, and I breathe out in relief as well, feeling as if a heavy weight had just been lifted off my shoulders. Even though I barely know the Donovan family, I simply couldn’t help but empathize with the darkness of the whole situation.

  “Well, he’s going to have to make a few adjustments to his diet, and some physical exercise will help as well. But if he’s willing to make these changes, I believe Mr. Donovan’s heart won’t trouble him that much for the rest of his life.”

  “Thank you, doctor,” Liam says and, even though his voice is steady and poised as always, I can notice a slight tone of relief in his words. “Do you think we can go and see him?”

  “Absolutely,” the doctor (Dr. Anderson, according to the name tag hanging from the breast-pocket of his coat) nods, waving with his arm toward the long corridor to his right, the one leading to the room where Liam’s father is. “He’s in room 213. But make it quick, please. Mr. Donovan needs some rest today.”

  “Will do,” Liam replies, and then he turns on his heels and starts marching down the corridor, his mother and I trailing after him. Stopping in front of the room with the 213 number plaque, Liam grabs at the handle and turns it, pushing the door open and stepping inside carefully.

  The room is small, but there’s a certain modern sleekness to the place. More than looking like an hospital room, it reminds me of an hotel room. But what was I expecting? The Donovans are a wealthy family, and I should’ve known that they wouldn’t care about cutting costs when it comes to the health of their loved ones.

  Liam’s father is sitting on his bed, the sheets up to his waist, and his whole face lights up with a smile as he sees his son and wife come in. Even though he’s much older than Liam, there’s a kind of charming gruffness to the way the years have carved up the lines in his face. And his eyes… They’re exactly like Liam’s - lively and smart, they tell of an hunger for life that knows no boundaries.

  “There ya are,” he says, opening his arms as Liam walks up to him. Doing it carefully, Liam hugs his father and then steps to the side, giving his place to his mother. “And you too,” he continues, smiling as he kisses her. “And who’s this lovely lady? I hope she isn’t my long lost daughter,” he says with a laugh, groaning as he shifts his sitting position on the bed.

  “Be nice,” Mrs. Donovan warns him with a smile, playfully punching him in the arm.

  “This is Cara, Dad,” Liam introduces me, and I take a few steps toward the bed. I offer my hand to Liam’s father and he grabs it heartily, looking at me with an expression of surprise.

  “Cara… That’s a beautiful name. Short for…?”

  “Caralyn,” I reply, something about him putting me immediately at ease. Even though I’ve never met him before, it feels like I’m face-to-face with an older and wiser Liam.

  “Does this mean my lovely wife won’t be the only Mrs. Donovan anymore?” He asks me, his smart eyes then darting toward Liam. I know it doesn’t take a Sherlock Holmes type to figure out the reason why I’m inside this room with the Donovan’s, but still… Liam’s father saw it in just a few seconds.

  “Come on, Dad,” Liam laughs, “you should worry about eating less steaks than about me getting a girlfriend.” Everyone in the room laughs at Liam’s joke (including me) but, at the same time, I feel an iron knot growing inside my stomach. Do you know when people feel butterflies inside their stomachs? It’s exactly the same except, instead of butterflies, I’m talking about rusty iron nails.

  “What? I’m just an old man that wants to see his grandchildren running around,” Mr. Donovan continues happily, jabbing at Liam with the kind of ease that speaks of a close relationship.

  “Ah, come on, Dad,” Liam laughs again, running one hand through his hair.

  “Don’t mind him, Cara,” Mr. Donovan tells me softly, holding my hand and looking straight into my eyes. “He might be a tough nut to crack, but he’s a good man deep down.”

  “I know,” I tell him with a whisper, my heart tightening up inside my chest.

  Being here with Liam and his parents, acting as if I’m his girlfriend, pretending that there’s going to be a future for the two of us… It’s too much for me. And that’s because my job fooled me: this time I’m not going after an asshole - I’m going after the most upstanding man I’ve ever met.

  And, hearing the words Mrs. Donovan on Liam’s dad’s mouth… It made me realize that I wouldn’t mind being called that. No, not all.

  Except I’m a total fraud. This whole relationship was built on a string of well-calculated lies, and Liam and his parents have no idea about who the real Cara is and what she does for a living.

  And once the truth gets out…

  It’ll be the end of this.

  Cara

  “You okay?” Liam asks me, reaching across the seat and placing his hand on top of mine. I have my forehead pressed against the window of the limo, watching the streets passes us by, the pale glow of the moonlight pushing away the darkness. It’s still late in the night, but we’re still a few hours away from a sunrise. We would’ve stayed in the hospital, but Dr. Anderson pretty much sent us on our way.

  “I’m good,” I tell him, sitting up on the seat and looking into his eyes. Somehow, I manage to fake a smile. I don’t know how or when it happened but, somewhere along the way, the job I was supposed to do became a living nightmare.

  For the first time in my life, I met a man I could envision a future with… And I met him because my sole purpose was to destroy him. Hooray - now I know what it means to have destiny play a cruel joke on you.

  “You’re pretty quiet. Is there something on your mind?” He asks me again, trying to draw the curtain back hiding my most private thoughts, but I just smile and reassure him that I’m okay. He smiles back at me, believing me - which isn’t that surprising, since I pretty much lie for a living.

  “And you? Are you okay?”

  “Yeah, I’m fine. I was a bit worried back there, yeah, but everything turned out alright,” he tells me with a smile, softly holding my hand. “Hey, thanks for coming with me. I really appreciate it.”

  “You don’t have to thank me. I know how it feels like to… to receive bad news,” I tell him, my mind bringing up old faded memories from so long ago.

  “You do…?”

  “Yeah,” I nod, thinking back to the first time I attended a funeral. “My father died of cancer back when I was in highschool. We never saw it co
ming. One day he gets a call from the doctor, the diagnosis is pretty dire and… well, three months later he was dead,” I say, remembering how my father looked in the hospital bed. He was so frail and thin, a distant memory of the man I was used to seeing as strong and unshakable.

  “Cara… I’m so sorry,” he says, his words tender and sweet, genuine care in his voice.

  “It’s okay. I’ve made my peace with it. It hurt a lot at first… but then you learn to treasure the good memories. It’s just life, I guess. No one can run away from it.”

  “I know. Life’s tough,” he replies solemnly, and then he averts his gaze. Looking out the window, he remains in silence for a long while, and I can tell that there’s something in his mind.

  “What is it, Liam…?” I ask him and, when he turns to me, there’s a deep sorrow tainting the usually brightness of his eyes.

  “It’s nothing,” he replies, faking a smile. “I lost someone too. And, you’re right… It sucks, but we gotta treasure the good moments.”

  “Who was it…?” I ask him, my chest feeling heavy as I wonder if I should even be asking this question. Grief is one of these things most people like to keep in the shadows, and I know that Liam isn’t one to open up easily.

  “It was my brother,” he tells me after a long pause, and I just let his words hang in the air between us. “He enlisted in the army when he just eighteen. He wanted to serve his country, you know? And he did - he served in Iraq for almost two years. But then… Well, then life happened, I guess. He got in a firefight in Ramadi, got shot and didn’t make it.”

  “Jesus, Liam, I had no idea. I’m so sorry,” I tell him, feeling the sting of tears in my eyes.

  “I just wish I had been there with him, you know? Maybe I could’ve… I don’t know, things might have been different.”

  “Liam…” I merely whisper, having no idea what to tell him. “There’s nothing you could have done.”

  “Maybe. I served in Iraq as well, you know? But we got shipped to different cities. I should’ve pushed for a reassignment, try and make it to the same platoon he was in… But it doesn’t matter now, does it?” He whispers, that sad smile still on his lips.