Accidentally Yours

by Susan Mallery

  He slid his hand under her hair so his fingers rested against the back of her head, then leaned in and kissed her.

  The contact was more comforting than sexual. She kissed him back, wanting to feel close and connected.

  “Don’t give up,” he whispered. “Don’t listen to anyone else. You know the right thing to do.”

  “Sometimes I’m not sure.”

  “You always know, Kerri. Trust your heart.”

  NATHAN WALKED into Cody’s room and tossed the signed baseball onto the bed. Cody grabbed it and turned it over in his hands.

  “Sweet,” he breathed. “They all really signed this?”

  “Yeah, and those are real signatures. Not from a machine. I thought you’d enjoy having it while you watched the games on TV. Later, when you’re better, we’ll go back to Safeco Field and see if we can get through all nine innings this time.”

  “Thanks. That’s great.” Cody kept hold of the ball even if he didn’t comment on the promise of another trip to the baseball park.

  Nathan pulled up a chair. “Your mom went home for a shower. She’ll be back in a bit. I thought I’d sit with you for a while.”

  “I’m okay alone.”

  “I know, but I’d like some company if that’s okay with you.”

  “Sure.” Cody looked at him. “Do you have the limo?”

  “I drove myself in a regular car.”

  “If I were you, I’d always take the limo.”

  “Sometimes it’s fun to drive. You get to be in control.”

  Cody didn’t say anything. Nathan wondered if it was because he felt sick or the fact that he was nine and adults ruled the world.

  “Your mom said the new treatments have started,” Nathan said. “You doing okay with them?”

  “I guess. Nothing’s different.” He dropped the ball onto the bed and picked at the blanket. “You had a kid, too, right? One who died?”

  “Daniel,” Nathan said, doing his best to keep his voice even. “He was a few years younger than you.”

  “So you know what it’s gonna be like…for my mom.”

  “I have an idea.”

  “Can you tell her…” Cody swallowed, then looked at him. “Can you tell her it’s okay to let me go? I know it’s gonna be hard and she loves me a lot, but I’m tired and it hurts all the time. I’m not scared. I talked to Dr. Wallace and he said I’ll just go to sleep. And then I won’t feel bad. I just need her to be okay and I don’t know that she will be. I’m sort of all she has.”

  Nathan had gotten through Daniel’s illness and death without shedding a single tear, but now, hearing Cody’s words, his eyes burned even as his heart tightened into a hard, unyielding knot.

  He swore under his breath. He was the wrong person to be having this conversation with a dying nine-year-old. There should be someone smarter in the room. Someone with more experience. Someone who knew what the hell he was doing.

  The only thing he knew for sure was the regret he felt at letting Daniel go so easily.

  He leaned forward and touched Cody’s arm. “You’re forgetting something. Your mom has special powers. She’s Wonder Mom. You’ve already done so much better than most kids who get Gilliar’s. Who’s to say you won’t keep doing better?”

  Cody rolled his eyes. “She’s not really Wonder Mom. I know it’s all tricks. I don’t believe in it.”

  “I do,” Nathan told him.

  Cody stared at him. “No way.”

  “Way. She’s powerful and determined. She has heart and faith and loves you. The power of a mother’s love can never be underestimated. There’s magic in loving someone. It’s like a part of the universe changes every time we open our heart. She loves you, Cody. You can feel the love, I know you can. That’s worth sticking around for. Even just a little longer.”

  The boy looked at him for a long time. “You really love her, don’t you?”

  The question shouldn’t have been a surprise, yet it was. And nearly as shocking as those words was the response that came from deep inside. “Yes, I love her.”

  When had that happened? At what point had she slipped past his defenses to wind her way into his heart?

  “I’m glad,” Cody said, sounding older than his years even as he picked up the baseball and studied it. “Then she won’t be alone. You can be there for her. After.”

  “You’re not going to die,” Nathan told him.

  “Yes, I am. We all know that. It’s just a matter of when.”

  “THREE DIFFERENT KINDS of burritos, crispy tacos, soft tacos and Dr Pepper,” Nathan said as he laid out the food on Cody’s hospital tray.

  Kerri stared at the array of food. “There’s no Taco Bell in town. How did you keep it warm?”

  “Heated seats.”

  Cody grinned, then started to laugh. Kerri laughed, too, because hey, the rich could use their heated seats for anything they wanted.

  She laughed until she felt her control slipping. “I’ll go get more napkins,” she said. “Be right back.” Then she escaped to the hallway where she collapsed into one of the hard plastic chairs and gave in to the tears that were painfully close to the surface.

  It hurt, she thought as she brushed her cheeks and wished she had a tissue. It hurt to watch Cody fade away, his body almost shrinking as the disease dissolved his bones.

  She felt someone sit next to her, then wrap his arms around her.

  “I can’t do it,” she whispered against Nathan’s shoulder. “Everyone is telling me to let him go and I can’t. I keep begging him to stay with me. Is that wrong?”

  “I let Daniel go too easily. You’re his mother and you love him more than anyone ever will. Listen to your heart.”

  “It’s breaking. I can’t hear anything but that.”

  “Cody is your life, Kerri. It makes sense you don’t want to release him. When he’s gone, you won’t have anything else.”

  Not exactly the words of comfort she wanted to hear. She straightened.

  “What are you saying? That I’m keeping him around for me? That I’m selfish?”

  His dark gaze was steady. “We always keep the dying around for us.”

  “Which doesn’t answer the question. You think I’m selfish.”

  “I think you’re motivated by the fact that you love him and want him to live a long, healthy life. But you’ve also made him the center of your universe. When he’s gone, you’ll have no reason to get up in the morning.”

  “So I need a hobby or two? You want to compare that to losing a child?”

  “You need to live for more than just your son. You get to have a life, too.”

  “I don’t want a life,” she snapped. “I want Cody back.”

  “I know. I know how it feels. But when he’s gone, then what? Do you die, too? Is that the legacy he leaves behind? Do you think Brian wanted you to bury yourself in grief and raising his child? Do you think he would have been happy to know you haven’t even dated for ten years?”

  Kerri wanted to hit him. “You have no right to judge me. None at all.”

  “I’m not judging. I’m trying to tell you that there has to be more than just suffering. That whatever happens, you’ll go on living. I’m trying to tell you that I love you and that I want some of that living to be with me.”

  He…“What?”

  “I love you, Kerri. Hell of a time to tell you, but there we are. I love you. I want the best for you and Cody. I want us to be together. The three of us, if there’s a miracle. If not, then you and I.”

  She couldn’t think, couldn’t imagine, couldn’t…anything. “You what?”

  His mouth twisted. “I love you. Is that such a surprise?”

  Longing swamped her. It was thick and powerful and she was shocked by the intensity of her need to launch herself at him, to tell him she loved him, too, that he was everything to her.

  But she couldn’t. There was Cody and that had to be all that mattered. Nathan knew that. Why was he doing this to her? Why was he making it harde
r?

  “No,” she said loudly. “I don’t want this. I don’t want you. You already know, so why are you doing this?”

  He grabbed her upper arms. “Kerri, you’re not going to be punished for having something for yourself.”

  “I am. How dare you talk about us having a life without him?” She jerked free of his touch. “Go away. I don’t want you here. I won’t forgive you for this, Nathan. Not ever. Go.” She sucked in a breath and screamed. “Just go!”

  He looked at her for a long time. In a way the moment was what she imagined an out-of-body experience to be. She felt strange and light, as if she were floating. As if she were watching from a distance.

  She could clearly see herself and Nathan. She saw the pain in his eyes and the way he held himself tensely, as if trying to make sure she didn’t know she’d hit him hard. She saw herself looking angry and crazy—a mother desperate enough to fight anyone to save her son.

  She also saw the pain—it was the silent third party in the room. There was longing, too, and need. They could have been so good together, she thought sadly, feeling compassion as if this were a situation that didn’t involve her directly. Now they would have nothing.

  Nathan turned and left without saying a word. The out-of-body Kerri watched him go, watched her hand raise slightly, as if she was going to call him back. Then, when she was alone, a huge sob ripped through her body and she collapsed onto the floor. She felt herself fly back into her body, hitting a wall of pain so thick and strong, it would never go away. She cried out desperately and there was no one to hear. No one to comfort her. She’d lost Brian. Cody would be gone in a few days and she’d sent Nathan away. Everyone she’d ever loved would leave her and then she would cease to exist. She would be nothing but a shell with a heart that slowly came to a stop.

  CHAPTER TWENTY

  ABRAM STARED at the computer screen and willed the numbers to change. He stared so hard his eyes blurred, but the numbers stayed as they were—written proof that he had failed.

  The door to his lab opened, but he didn’t turn around. There was only one person who would come and check on him in the middle of the night and he was afraid to face her. Afraid to tell her that he had nothing left to give.

  Behind him, Linda sighed. “I don’t have to ask. I can see the truth on your face.”

  “The boy is dying and I can do nothing to save him.”

  “I thought you were giving him new medications and injections.”

  “They prolong the inevitable for a few hours. Nothing more. We need to do more than stall the destruction. We need to heal, to make progress.” The room seemed to slip a little. He grabbed the side of his desk. “I can’t save him.”

  Linda put her arm around his waist. “You must sleep. You’re exhausted.”

  “I have to work.”

  “You won’t be any good to anyone like this, Abram. Come on. A few hours of sleep will help.”

  He shook his head. “I have to try. Every time I close my eyes, I see his face. It rips at me.” He turned to her. “I have made it personal. Science should never be that.”

  “A child’s life is on the line. Of course it’s personal. It only matters if we touch the lives we heal.” She smiled. “I am glad it’s personal to you. Come. Rest. You can be brilliant in the morning.”

  He reached out and touched her cheek. “You have always been here for me.”

  “Yes, I know. Twenty years of loyalty. I think you owe me a watch or at least a pin.” She smiled as she spoke.

  “More than that, I think. You deserve so much more. I want to marry you.” He sighed. “Not that I am so great a prize, but maybe you can make do.”

  Her blue eyes brightened with humor and affection. “So romantic, Abram. You don’t want to talk about the stars or loving me forever? Instead you announce you want to marry me then tell me I’m not getting much of a deal?”

  He shifted awkwardly. “I should have planned something romantic. Bought flowers.”

  “You’re exhausted. What you need is to sleep. We’ll talk about this in the morning and make our plans.”

  “Plans?”

  “For our wedding.”

  He stared at her. “You’re saying yes?”

  “I’ve been waiting a long time for you. What else would I say?”

  Delighted, he allowed her to lead him to the cot in the back of his office. He sat on the edge, then pulled her close and kissed her.

  “I love you,” he told her. “You are so much more than I deserve.”

  “I’m sure that’s true.”

  “I want to make you happy.”

  “You already do.”

  “I’m serious, Linda. Make a list of demands. I’ll fulfill them all.”

  She hesitated, then nodded. He knew what she was thinking. She was putting “find a cure” at the top of her list.

  If only that were possible, he thought grimly.

  “You can,” she whispered as he closed his eyes. “I know it’s there for you, my love. Just out of reach. Sleep and dream of the answer.”

  He stretched out on the cot. Pray God that he could.

  KERRI PUT DOWN the book and stretched. She looked over at Cody. “Had enough? Ready for TV? Or I can keep reading.”

  Her nine-year-old shook his head. “You’ve been crying, Mom.”

  Not this hour, she thought as she forced herself to smile. “I’m fine. Better than fine. I’m ready to do an ice-cream run.”

  “I’m not hungry. It hurts to eat. It hurts to just be in bed. Mom, you have to let me go.”

  Kerri felt her self-control start to crumble. She’d managed to pull it together after Nathan had left a few hours before, but she didn’t have much in the way of reserves. If Cody pushed too hard, he was going to see a breakdown that would scare the life out of him.

  How much would that take? How much life was left?

  Her eyes began to burn as her throat tightened. No, she told herself. No! She wouldn’t lose it like this.

  She cleared her throat. “Excuse me, but last time I checked, I’m still the mom so I get to make the rules.”

  Cody didn’t smile. He was pale, his features drawn. The combination of drugs and pain had sucked the strength out of him.

  “Mom, I mean it. I’m done here. I need to go. I’ll be okay. It’s heaven, right? I’ve been good enough.”

  She slid onto the bed and carefully gathered him into her arms. He winced, but she didn’t let go. She needed to be holding him.

  “You’ve been amazing. You’re a great kid and I don’t know how I got so lucky.”

  “Dad sent me,” Cody whispered. “And now he’s waiting for me. I want to see him, Mom. I won’t hurt in heaven. I’ll be able to run and play baseball. We’ll wait for you together.”

  The tears started slowly, then rolled down her cheeks faster and faster.

  “Cody, I can’t,” she breathed. “I love you too much.”

  “You’ll be okay. Nathan will take care of you.”

  “I’m not sure about that.”

  “He loves you. He told me. He’ll be there, Mom.”

  Maybe he would have been, before she’d gone crazy and sent him away.

  She still didn’t know what had happened. It was as if by telling her he loved her, he’d opened a scary place inside. One that didn’t let her believe in second chances—because that’s what he was.

  Even though Cody should be the only thing she thought of, she missed Nathan. She wanted to call him but didn’t know what to say.

  “Cody, please. Not yet.”

  “Not today,” he agreed. “But soon.”

  She knew he was in pain every second of every day. She knew it was only going to get worse. Asking him to hang on was selfish and wrong and yet she couldn’t let go of her child.

  “I love you,” she whispered.

  “I love you, too.”

  The nurse came in. “Time for your next shot.”

  They both watched the liquid injected into the IV. In
a matter of minutes, Cody relaxed.

  Kerri stood and waited until he was asleep. He would have a couple of good hours now, she thought gratefully. Hours when he didn’t have to deal with the agony.

  She wiped her face on her sleeve, then walked out of his room. The last thing she wanted to do was eat, but she needed to get something into her system. She honestly couldn’t remember her last meal.

  One of the nurses walked by. “I just saw Nathan down in the cafeteria, if you’re wondering where he is. That man cares about you two so much. You must be happy to have him here to help you.”

  Kerri nodded without speaking. Nathan here? Was it possible?

  She raced to the elevator and when it took too long, she ran down the stairs and burst into the basement. She’d been there so many times she didn’t need the signs to get her to the open double doors.

  She stumbled inside, then came to a stop as she looked over the tables, searching for a familiar man who couldn’t possibly still be here. Then she saw him.

  “You’re here,” she breathed as she hurried over. “You didn’t leave. I told you to leave.”

  He put down his coffee and stood. “I don’t usually listen to what you say. It’s a guy thing.”

  She grabbed the chair to keep from falling to the ground. She couldn’t feel her legs, or any other part of her body. There was only hope and joy and aching sadness.

  “You’re here,” she whispered again. “I can’t believe it.”

  “I love you both, Kerri. Where else would I go?”

  Back to his rich world with its beautiful women. Back to a place where kids were healthy and death was years and years away. Back to where it was easy.

  “He’s going to die,” she said, which wasn’t at all what she’d meant to blurt out. “He wants me to let him go.”

  “You don’t have to agree. Hang on. There might still be a miracle.”

  She stared into his dark eyes, finding strength there. “I don’t know if I can. I’m so tired. There’s nothing left.”

  “Then you rest and I’ll stand guard. We’ll take turns.”

  He could have left her. He could have not bothered. He could have done a thousand things, but he’d stayed.

  His presence gave her the courage to say it at last. “I have to let him go. I have to tell him it’s okay.”