“Anyway, that’s when her drinking really escalated. I mean, she always drank, but after she lost the showgirl gig, she took a swim in the deep end of the booze pool and never came out.” Wrapping her arm around his, she pulled it closer to her chest. “Jeremy was four years older than me. He took care of me a lot when Mom worked, and when she went off the deep end he had to take care of me pretty much all the time. She was never home and when she was, she slept most of the time.
“I was young, but I was pretty rebellious. You know, not coming home right after school like I was supposed to, stuff like that. My poor brother.” She shook her head. “Fourteen years old and he’s stuck home taking care of my rambunctious ass. I’m sure he hated it, but he never acted like it, at least not to me.”
“I have this vision of what you must have looked like at ten. You were probably adorable.” Chuckling, he kissed her shoulder.
She giggled and wiggled her hips. “Someday I’ll show you a picture. I was a skinny bean. No hips, no tits and long skinny legs, but I sure believed I was hot shit.”
“Still do. Go on.” He was trying to help lighten the mood a little because he had a feeling in a few minutes, when she got into the meat of the story, there’d be no humor to be found.
“Whatever.” She chuckled. “Anyway…it was a Wednesday and Jeremy had football practice. I was supposed to go with him, but I blew it off. More interested in hanging out with my friends, I guess. Of course, Jeremy came to find me.” She shivered, and then pressed closer to him, but he knew it had nothing to do with being cold.
“When he finally tracked me down, I was on one of the main street corners near our trailer park. Man, he looked pissed. I saw him waiting to cross the intersection, and I ran with my friends, away from him, because I knew he was gonna tear into me, and I didn’t want to hear it. I guess he ran after me. I heard him yell my name once and then tires squealing and someone screamed.” She pulled her hand away from his and fisted it in front of her mouth.
Ryan cupped her hand in his for a moment and then stroked her hair while she cried without making a sound. Her body shook in his arms and it resonated deep in his heart. He thought about telling her to stop, that she didn’t need to go on, but he didn’t. It was selfish, but he hoped it might bring her closer to him to open up in this way.
After a minute, she began again—her voice thick with tears. “One of my friends grabbed me and we turned around and ran back toward the intersection. I couldn’t see Jeremy, but a cab had stopped just past the crosswalk.” Her voice shook as she spoke through her sobs. “There was a crowd already gathering, and when we got closer I saw him. He was lying on the ground, a pool of blood beneath his head.”
She stopped talking then and wept. Ryan urged her to turn over, and when she did, he wrapped her in his arms.
Maiya buried her face in his neck and cried for what seemed like forever before continuing. “It was my fault. He’d run after me instead of waiting for the light to change. Fucking cabbies are lunatics in Vegas, but Jeremy had stepped right into oncoming traffic. It was my fault. If I hadn’t run, or had gone home to begin with, Jeremy’d still be here.”
Ryan stroked her hair and back, remaining silent and letting her cry it out in his arms. The depth of her pain was palpable and his heart shattered into a million pieces for her.
“It was my fault—all my fault. I should’ve been home.”
He placed his finger under her chin, raising her face to meet his. He let his gaze roam over her shadowed features. She was beautiful, even as she cried. “You were a child, Maiya.” He kissed the tears on her cheeks. “It wasn’t your fault, baby.”
“But—”
Holding his forefinger over her lips, he quieted her. “Baby, this couldn’t possibly be your fault. You were a child. So was Jeremy. He shouldn’t have had to take care of you to begin with.”
“But I know it was. Because of what I did and also, she told me it was.”
“Who?” She lay her head back down on his chest and he stroked through her hair. “Who on earth would lay such a burden on a child?”
She sniffled. “My mother.”
Fierce protectiveness and anger bloomed inside Ryan’s chest. How in the hell did a mother tell her young daughter it was her fault such a horrible and traumatizing accident happened? His mind rejected the thought that a mother would be that cruel. He kissed her forehead. God, he hoped her mother hadn’t meant it. “Ah, baby,” he crooned. “She couldn’t have meant it. She must know it wasn’t your fault.”
Chapter Thirty-Seven
Maiya took a deep breath and coughed. Her chest felt tight, and her head ached. Most likely a hangover from her emotional confession to Ryan last night. Maiya cringed. How embarrassing—she’d cried like a damn baby.
She couldn’t believe she’d told him all about how Jeremy died. Except, the whole time, he’d held her in his gentle arms listening, and then tried his damnedest to relieve her guilt. She wasn’t sure anything would ever be powerful enough to absolve her, but she cherished the fact that he tried. Maybe he cared about her more than she thought.
Ryan stirred behind her. He ran a warm hand up her thigh and nuzzled her hair. “Mmm. Morning, baby.”
“Morning.” She smiled at the feel of the other good morning pressing against her backside. “I see you’re both up.”
“Hey, not my fault. You’re the one with a delectable ass pressed against my dick. A man can only take so much, you know.” He nipped her shoulder.
“Likely story,” she scoffed. “Blame me, huh? I’m so getting first dibs on the shower for that one, pal.” Getting up, she swayed her hips from side to side on her way to the bathroom. “And no, I’m not sharing.” He growled and she stuck her tongue out at him before shutting the door.
Starting the shower, she stepped under the spray and proceeded to wash away the tears from last night. Maiya closed her eyes tight. Her thoughts were a jumbled mess of past, present and future as the water ran down her body to the drain.
She’d never confessed the guilt she harbored over Jeremy’s death to anyone or also that her mother blamed her. Never before had she let herself be this vulnerable with anyone and as a result she felt raw. But his tender response touched a part of her soul where no one had dared to venture before. Where she’d let no one touch before.
When she stepped back into the bedroom, Ryan was getting dressed. “I grabbed a shower in the other bathroom. Save time, since we overslept a bit.” He buttoned his shirt.
“Good thinking. I’ll head down and get breakfast going.” She turned to walk out.
“Hey, c’mere.”
“Hmm?”
“Come here.”
Pivoting, Maiya approached him.
“Morning, again.” Leaning forward, he kissed her. “Think you might want to stay through the weekend?” He stepped away and grabbed his tie, looping it around his neck.
Maiya raised her brows in surprise. “Oh. Um. To be honest, I hadn’t even thought about the fact that I’m supposed to fly home today. Damn.” She frowned and a knot formed in her throat. Did she want to stay? “Either way, I probably need to get home and check on my mother. Speaking of which, I need to call her.”
“I understand. It was just a thought.” He frowned a bit and then faced the mirror.
He looked disappointed. Shit. Maiya didn’t want to disappoint him. Ever. All this time, she was convinced he’d be the one administering any hurt feeling between them. It wouldn’t be her, yet here she was. The shoe being on the other foot turned the lump in her throat to acid. She chewed her thumbnail. “Let me give her a call and see how she’s doing. I’m not promising anything, but we’ll see. Okay?”
“It’s all good, baby. Just figured I’d ask.” He smiled, but it didn’t quite reach his eyes. Double shit.
In the kitchen, she made Jacob a bowl of oatmeal, gave him a kiss on the top o
f his head and made her way to the back patio. Coffee, cigarette and cell phone in hand, she dialed her mother’s number and got no answer. Again. Disconnecting the call, she tried again. No answer.
What the hell was going on? Feeling more than a little panicked, she dialed the next-door neighbor. Maiya asked Mrs. Janowick to go over and check on her mother. The woman had lived next door for over ten years, and she and Joanie had swapped keys long ago. Leaning back in the lounger, she lit another cigarette and held the phone in her palm, willing it to ring.
Ryan poked his head out the door. “Everything okay?”
“I can’t reach my mother. I’m getting worried.”
Ryan stepped outside, mug of coffee in hand.
“I called the neighbor and asked her to go over and check. I’m waiting for her to call back.”
Sitting on the edge of the lounge, he rubbed her leg. “I’m sure she’s fine. Try not to worry.”
“I know. But she never leaves the house, so it’s weird she isn’t answering.” Maiya sipped her coffee. “You make the best coffee.”
“Thanks.” He chuckled. “But I think you made this batch, so the credit goes to you.”
“Oh. Yeah. Damn, I’m distracted this morning. I’m not going to be worth a shit today if I don’t hear back from her.”
He took her hand and kissed the palm. “It’ll be fine, baby. Deep breath.”
Thirty long minutes later while Maiya was getting her things together, her phone rang.
“Hello.”
“Maiya, I couldn’t wake her up. I tried, but she wasn’t responding. I called an ambulance, sweetheart,” Mrs. Janowick said.
“Oh my God!” Maiya grabbed her purse.
“I’m sorry; this was the first chance I had to call you back.”
“It’s okay. Where are they taking her?”
“University Medical Center. Are you home?”
Maiya shoved her sweater in her briefcase. “No, I’m in L.A. for work. I’ll be on the next flight out of here.”
“I’ll head over to the hospital now. Oh, your poor mother.”
“Thank you, Mrs. Janowick. I’ll be there as soon as I land.” Maiya disconnected the call.
Ryan came into the kitchen. “What happened?”
“They’ve taken her to the hospital. She was unconscious. Oh God, Ryan, I should’ve known last night. I should’ve done something.” Her voice raised about three octaves as panic spread through her. “I have to fly home right now.”
“Easy, Maiya. I’ll get the flight changed for you.”
She rubbed her forehead. “Fuck. Shit. Okay. Yes, thank you. Thank you.”
She needed to get home. Now.
Chapter Thirty-Eight
Maiya was staring at her mother’s still form in a hospital bed less than four hours after leaving Ryan’s home.
Joanie lay beneath a buttercup-yellow blanket tucked neatly around the edge of the bed. Her eyes were closed and there were two separate IVs providing medicine and fluids into her bloodstream. The metal railings sat in the raised position on both sides, caging her in place. The room smelled like antiseptic and sickness and the knots in Maiya’s stomach tightened further. Hospitals were so not her favorite place.
With her arms crossed, she waited for the doctor to come in and let her know what the hell was going on with her mother. Maiya stared at the unconscious woman in front of her. She no longer looked like her mother. Years of drinking, and Lord knows what else, had distorted the pretty face Maiya once knew.
Her mother had been beautiful when Maiya was a child. She’d had the creamiest pale skin and shiniest raven-colored hair. Her once-beautiful locks were now a straggly mess of dark-brown with gray laced through them. The once smooth skin had wrinkled and was tinted a yellow, almost orange color from her liver’s inability to filter the bilirubin from her blood. With a shaking hand, she smoothed the hair off her mother’s forehead. “Mommy?”
No response.
“I’m here, Mommy.” She stroked her mother’s arm. “Just rest, okay? It’s going to be all right now.”
Again, no response. The only sound in the room was her mother’s rattled breathing and the soft beeps of the heart monitor. Turning away from the bed, Maiya paced the room.
A man wearing a lab coat entered, carrying a binder. “Hi, I’m Dr. Guzman. You’re Ms. Rossini’s daughter?”
Jesus, this is the doctor? The guy looked like he was barely twenty years old. “Yes. I’m her daughter, Maiya Rossini. Nice to meet you.” She shook his hand. “What’s happening with my mother?”
“Let’s step outside the room.” After checking another chart hanging on the wall, he ushered her into the hall.
“She’s an alcoholic.” Cringing, she covered her mouth with her hands. The words were out before she had a chance to stop them.
“Yes, we gathered. We’re giving her Valium as a precaution to avoid any complications. Is she a daily drinker?”
“Sorry. Yes. And smoker. She has cirrhosis and COPD and is under the care of two physicians for both.”
“We’ll need the names of her doctors to obtain her records. Do you have a medical Power of Attorney?”
Maiya shook her head. The various times she’d tried to broach the subject, her mother had flat out refused. “There won’t be any need for that shit,” had been her exact words if Maiya remembered correctly. So much for not needing it.
“We’ll have someone come talk to you about obtaining one since this is an emergency situation.”
“Great, thank you.” Nodding, she crossed her arms. “Please tell me what’s going on.”
“It appears the ammonia levels in her blood rose extremely high. This would have affected her cognitive function causing symptoms such as confusion and delirium, finally, unconsciousness, which is how she was brought in.”
“Can you fix it? Is it treatable?”
“We’ve administered medication to reduce the levels. We’ll know in about twenty-four hours if her body will respond. If the medicine does what it’s designed to do, she’ll begin to wake up.”
“What do you mean? Is she in a coma?”
“Of a sort, yes. She’s unconscious and unresponsive. We’re doing everything we can to make sure she’s comfortable. For now, she’s as stable as can be expected.”
Maiya’s hands tingled and she flexed them. “So, that’s it? We just wait.”
“Basically. Her body will heal itself if she’s strong enough. We’re also monitoring her oxygen levels. Her lungs are in poor condition. We’ll be watching for signs of pneumonia.”
Placing her hand on her forehead, Maiya closed her eyes. “She saw the doctor last week for a checkup. He wanted to do some procedure to drain the fluid in her stomach. She refused.”
The doctor checked the chart again. “Yes, her abdomen is quite distended. Once we have a handle on the ammonia levels we’ll schedule her for the paracentesis procedure to drain the fluid.”
“Is that why this happened? Because she didn’t have the fluid removed last week?”
“Most likely, but from the results of her blood work, she’s in end-stage liver disease. Unfortunately, this was only a matter of time.” He closed the chart. “Feel free to ask the nurses to page me if you have any other questions.”
“Thanks.” Releasing a frustrated breath, Maiya walked back into the room. She should have made her mother do the damn procedure instead of letting her blow it off. Instead, she was too focused on Ryan and then ran off to L.A. for him.
Guilt welled up like a tidal wave, swamping her, and she swallowed down the bitter taste. Sure work had wanted her there, but in truth, the real motive for the trip had been to see him. Some good daughter she turned out to be.
Speaking of Ryan, she took a seat in the oversized vinyl recliner in the corner of the hospital room and sent him a text.
Ryan Painintheass: I’m sorry, baby. Is there anything I can do?
Maiya: No. I’m fine.
Ryan Painintheass: I’m worried about you.
She didn’t respond. Whatever. He didn’t need to worry about her. The man had enough on his plate. Although it wasn’t his fault her mother was lying in a hospital bed, she couldn’t help but feel a bit agitated at him. Maiya didn’t want to deal with her own feelings, let alone his. He’d have to get over it.
A few minutes later, her phone rang. Seeing it was Ryan, she let it go to voicemail. Then, it rang again. Dammit. He wasn’t going to give up. Again, she sent it to voicemail. Then she got a text.
Ryan Painintheass: I’m coming out there.
Staring at the screen, it occurred to her how apropos the contact name she’d assigned him in her phone was. The bastard was still a pain in her ass, and tenacious to an insane degree.
Maiya: No. I told you, I’m fine. Besides, I’m going to be at the hospital all weekend.
Ryan Painintheass: I’m coming out there and that’s the end of it. I’ll see you in three hours. I suggest you let me know what hospital unless you want me wandering around Vegas searching every one of them.
Maiya: Fine. University Medical Center.
Fucking fabulous.
Chapter Thirty-Nine
Rather than letting Jacob go to after care, Ryan picked him up at school. He wanted to be sure his son understood why he was suddenly rushing out of town. Jacob had gotten so sad when Ryan told him Maiya’s mother was sick. Little man had such a kind heart; he’d colored a picture for Joanie. Ryan would be sure to hang it in the hospital room if Maiya let him.
Her short text messages and refusal to answer his call scraped liked a piece of sand paper at the patience Ryan normally had with her. He had no idea what the hell was going on, but he intended to find out. The situation with her mother must be grave and would surely explain her curtness. At least he hoped it would.
Unworthy Heart: The Donnellys, Book 1 Page 29
