by Amy Knupp
“You would with your stepbrothers?”
Joe shrugged. “Maybe.”
“It seems like they care a lot about your mom.”
“Jorge would do anything for her.”
“Troy and Ryan must be concerned, too, or they wouldn’t be here. Do they have families?”
“Ryan’s married. No kids. They’re here for their dad.”
“They’re worried about you.”
Joe studied her as if he really didn’t believe that. How could he not? Faith wished he saw that he was going to need those guys in the near future, especially if his mom didn’t recover.
She looked at her watch. “Almost time for the next visit.” The nurses were letting them in one at a time for a few minutes every other hour. “Let’s go.”
Straightening, he inhaled deeply, as if bolstering himself, and nodded. As they walked back inside, he put his hand on her lower back. Faith liked the feel of it more than she should, but she shoved that out of her mind. There were more pressing things to worry about.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
JOE LEFT HIS MOM’S intensive care room when Ryan showed up for his turn. He nodded on his way out.
His mom still didn’t know he was there. He’d watched her sleep for the few minutes he was allowed in, willing her to wake up for a second just so he could tell her he loved her.
The doctor had made a point of saying there was hope that the antibiotics would take hold, but he’d also made it clear they weren’t seeing any signs of that yet and couldn’t predict how her body would react. It would take time for the drugs to bring about any improvement. While Joe hadn’t allowed his mom to speak of worst-case scenarios in the past, he was forced to face up to them tonight. Kind of like having his head rammed into a cement wall. Painful and sure to leave lasting damage.
Achy and wrung out, he walked slowly back to the small waiting room that was starting to feel like their own personal home base. Unlike the bright-as-day main hallway, where nurses and other medical personnel hurried around like busy worker bees, the room was secluded and had lights that could be dimmed. Faith had stretched out on a row of chairs and fallen asleep, her hair cascading over the side of the thin cushion.
The urge to go to her, to sit on the seat nearest her and pull her head onto his legs, run his fingers through her silky hair, overwhelmed him. Oddly, it’d be the most natural thing in the world to have her that close while she slept. But he sat near her feet, leaving an empty chair between them, because they weren’t alone. Regardless of Faith’s insistence that being off duty meant their difference in rank didn’t matter, it did. What was more, she was the daughter of his mentor and the man who would hopefully support his bid for the position of assistant chief.
So instead of touching her, Joe reclined on his uncomfortable, too small chair, resting his head on the back and watching her surreptitiously. Finally admitting to himself that he was genuinely glad she was there.
“Joe!” Ryan appeared at the doorway of the waiting room. “Get in there, man. She’s awake. Thought you’d want to talk to her before she drifts off again.”
Joe rushed out, hollering thanks over his shoulder. When he got to his mom’s room, her eyes were closed, and disappointment weighed him down. He stepped into the dim room, the rhythmic sound of the machines pulsing. Taking her frail hand gently in his, he sat on the edge of the chair that had been pulled up close to her side.
When she slowly turned her head toward him and her eyes fluttered open, he lowered his forehead to their entwined hands and said a silent prayer of thanks.
“Mama.”
“Joey. You made it.” Her voice was just a thread of sound, as if she hadn’t used it for weeks.
“Of course I made it. How are you doing?”
In typical Carmen style, she nodded slowly, attempting a smile. Always keeping it positive, even when she likely felt as if she’d been dragged around by a ladder truck.
His throat swelled up and he kissed her fingers.
“Your body has to fight, Mama.”
“I’ll be okay. I’m not ready to leave you yet. You’re not ready.”
“Damn straight I’m not.” If her will could keep her alive, he could rest easy. She was too worried about him and how he’d get along without her, without any true family. Unfortunately, he knew all too well it didn’t necessarily work that way.
Her eyes drooped and she fought to keep them open. Her face was pale beneath the oxygen tube that ran under her nose and across her cheeks, and Joe thought how unlike his mother this woman appeared.
“Go to sleep, Mama. I love you.”
He held on to her until her husband came to the door. Joe had never questioned Jorge’s feelings for Carmen, but the look on the man’s face as he gazed at her was so full of love and heartbreak that it finally hit Joe. When his mother passed away, this man would lose his life companion, the one he chose to spend day in and day out with.
Joe wouldn’t be alone in his pain. And maybe…maybe there could be more to a stepfamily than just appeasing his mother, after all.
EVERY MINUTE OF THE NIGHT seemed to last an hour as they prayed for some change, a positive sign, even though the doctor said it was too early.
Surprisingly, Troy and Ryan were still there at 2:00 a.m. Not as surprising, so was Faith. When she’d woken up from her nap, Joe had tried again to convince her to drive back to San Amaro Island, but it had only been for show on his part. He wanted her there with him. The implications of that were something he’d have to examine later.
Faith leaned close to him, allowing him to catch her scent when he turned toward her.
“I need coffee,” she said. “What can I get for you?”
He started to shake his head, but she held up a finger to stop him.
“No. You’re eating something. Or drinking. Take your pick. Beer doesn’t count as dinner, and even if it did, that was light-years ago.”
“For being such a tomboy, you’ve got some serious mother hen tendencies.”
“Consider me well-rounded. What do you want? Coffee?”
He nodded and twisted to take his wallet out. “A package of chips or nuts, too.”
“I’ve got it,” she said, refusing the bills he tried to hand her.
“I’ll go with you,” Troy said, standing and stretching. “Want anything, Ryan?”
“The biggest, most caffeinated bottle of pop you can find.”
“You got it.” Troy turned to Jorge, who was awkwardly sprawled in one of the chairs, snoring. The younger man shrugged and led Faith out.
Ryan stood and rolled his neck in circles. Paced across the room. Joe’s eyes were shut, but sleep eluded him in spite of how bone weary he was. He felt the chair next to him shift as Ryan sat down.
“How you holding up?” his stepbrother asked, his leg bouncing rhythmically.
“Holding up,” Joe said. “Not much else I can do.”
Ryan nodded and neither of them spoke for several minutes. Joe didn’t have the energy to think of a coherent sentence.
“Did you know that our mom died of cancer?” Ryan asked.
“Knew she died when you guys were kids.”
“Teenagers. Long, drawn-out deal.”
“This must bring it all back,” Joe said.
“Little bit. It’s different when it’s your mother.”
Joe didn’t respond. He appreciated the sentiment, but wasn’t up for a heart-to-heart.
“All I got to say is it sucks and it’s exhausting and I’m sorry as hell you’re going through it, man. I’m going to track down my drink.” As he stood, he clapped Joe on the back.
Several minutes later, Faith and Troy were stretched out on the floor of the waiting room, feasting on candy bars and mini doughnuts. Ryan had wandered back in as well by the time the doctor returned.
“Dad,” Ryan said.
Jorge jerked awake and straightened slowly, as if his back was stiff or achy.
Joe watched the doctor for a sign of what news he might have for
them, his heart thundering in his chest.
Dr. Zander sat on one of the chairs and smiled tiredly at them. “I don’t want to give you false hope. There isn’t any big news. It could be days before we really know how she’s going to do.”
“But she’s no worse?” Jorge asked.
“She’s holding her own.”
“If her condition was going to deteriorate, wouldn’t it have already happened?” Jorge was voicing some of the thoughts that had circled repeatedly through Joe’s head all night as the hours ticked by.
“It’s hard to say,” the doctor responded. “Let’s just focus on the fact that she’s hanging in there. I wish I could give you something more concrete but…”
“Understood,” Troy said.
“We might be able to rustle up a place for at least one of you to sleep,” Dr. Zander offered. “Like I said, it’s going to be a while for solid news of any kind.”
“We might take you up on that.” Again, Troy acted as their spokesperson. “Thanks, Doc.”
The doctor’s mouth tilted into a sympathetic half grin as he nodded at them and left them alone again.
Faith came over and sat next to Joe. She didn’t touch him or let on that there was anything between them more than two people who worked together, but Joe caught her concern, the understanding in her eyes.
“Are you planning to make it to work?” she asked almost apologetically.
He looked at his watch. Quarter to four. “My interview’s at ten.”
“For the job?” she asked, her eyes widening.
“For the job.” He considered his options, feeling torn.
“Go ahead, Joe,” his stepfather said. “Nothing you can do here. You know what your mom would want if she was awake to have her say.”
Joe exhaled shakily, fatigue and emotion taking their toll. “She’d tell me to get my ass to the interview and land the job.”
“I’m sure you can reschedule it,” Faith said. “I’ll talk to my dad.”
“Hell, no, you won’t.” Joe stood and stretched his arms over his head to get some blood flowing. “I can talk to him myself if I need to.”
“If anything changes here, I’ll get the company jet to pick you up,” Jorge said. “You can be here in twenty minutes.”
“You going to stick around?” Joe asked.
“I’m taking the day off.” Jorge crossed his leg over the opposite knee. “You can spell me when your shift is over. After you get some sleep.”
“I work twenty-four hours,” Joe reminded him.
“I’ll stop by later to give Dad a break,” Troy said.
“Go to work, man. Get the promotion.” Ryan stuffed the last powdered doughnut in his mouth.
“Okay.” Joe was ambivalent, unable to summon any enthusiasm for his interview, but he figured that was due to lack of sleep. What drove him to agree in the end was that his mother would, indeed, be disappointed if he didn’t make it to his interview because of her. Especially if she recovered enough to find out about it. There was nothing he could do, sitting here in this dingy, ugly room, and that fact was starting to drive him up the damn wall.
“You can sleep on the way,” Faith said. “I have enough caffeine in me to get through the next week.” She held up an extra large paper cup from the twenty-four hour coffee shop on the hospital’s main floor.
They said goodbye to the others, and Joe checked for another update on his mom on their way out. No changes whatsoever since the doctor had been in, which was what they expected.
He and Faith rode the elevator down and walked out to her Subaru in silence. The briskness of the night air did nothing to wake him up, nor did the ambulance that whisked into the emergency area down the way, sirens off but lights flashing. That was someone else’s problem. He had enough of his own.
Once they were in the car, they both sat there, not moving or speaking. Faith leaned against her headrest and angled her face toward him.
Joe exhaled slowly, coming down from the intense stress of the past several hours. Not that his worries would be over anytime soon. But just getting out of the sterile hospital and that drab room with the puke-green chairs made it easier to breathe.
“Thank you,” he said. “I couldn’t act like it in there, but I was glad to have you with me.”
“Hmm. Do I give you the company line here or the other one?”
“What’s the company line?”
“The fire chief told me to get you to your mother. I’m sure he wouldn’t approve if I had dropped you at the front door and driven off.”
“What’s the other line?”
“I didn’t mind any of it. Not that you needed me there, with all the Vargas men hovering.”
Joe disagreed to himself about whether he’d needed her there. He thought back over the long night. “They’re decent. Like you said. I don’t think I really ever gave them a chance. Just assumed we were all making the best of an awkward, late-in-life blending of families.”
“They kind of…acted like family.”
“Yeah. They did.” Joe was surprised to find that he genuinely agreed with her.
He was sure he couldn’t have gotten through this night without these people. His stepbrothers, Jorge and most of all, Faith.
As he leaned his head against the window and drifted off, he was vaguely aware that that in itself was more than a small dilemma.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
AFTER AN ENTIRE NIGHT at the hospital, the workday at the station had been anything but restful. They’d been running since eight that morning and barely stopped during the fourteen hours that followed. Faith couldn’t remember when they’d had so many alarms in one shift. It’d almost compared to an average day in the San Antonio department.
She should be unconscious.
She should be curled up in her hard but sufficient bunk, sleeping like a baby.
She should not be lying here thinking about Joe. Drifting off every so often, but then tossing and turning, disturbed by her thoughts.
Last night she’d seen a different side from the in-charge, unflappable fire captain. She’d glimpsed a man who would do just about anything for his mother and was, understandably, scared to death of losing her. A man who wanted to be stoic and strong, but who felt things deeply.
The only opportunity she’d had all day to ask about his mother’s condition had come after lunch, once he’d returned from his interview. The others had left the kitchen, and Faith and Joe had found themselves alone for all of five minutes before another alarm came in. By that point, he’d spoken to Mr. Vargas once, and not surprisingly, there’d been no significant change. And while it was good news that she was no worse, the lack of positive change was getting to Joe. Faith could tell by the raw fear in his eyes.
She whipped the sheets off and sat up in her bunk. Rubbing her hands over her eyes, she made a decision she might live to regret.
She knew Joe would be awake, in spite of their past twenty-four hours. Knew he was either in his office working or in his private bunk room. He’d told her he avoided sleeping at the station as much as he could because he hated being awakened by the alarm.
Knowing that he was up, alone, probably tormented by concern, she couldn’t just sit there.
She glanced down at the clothes she slept in—yoga pants and a light blue tank with a built-in bra. Nothing she hadn’t been seen in before whenever she ventured out of her room in the middle of the night. Her hair was probably a mess, but she didn’t care. She wasn’t going to him with the goal of turning him on.
When she opened her door, she peeked out like a fugitive in the night. There was no one stirring anywhere; most likely her colleagues were collapsed the way she should be, trying to get in more than a few minutes’ nap before the alarm sounded again.
If it went off while she was talking to Joe, in his room, things could get interesting.
Yeah, she could live to regret this decision, but that wasn’t enough to dissuade her. Once she was in the hall, she couldn’t mak
e herself turn back and not find out how Joe was doing.
She walked, acting nonchalant, past all the closed doors, seeing no lights and hearing no signs of anyone awake. When she got to the end of the hall, she glanced over her shoulder before turning toward the officers’ bunks and offices, just in case.
Joe’s private room was the third door on the left. Just as she’d expected, a dim light shone underneath it. Her heart raced and she wondered again what she was doing. Would he be pissed that she’d crossed the line and come to his personal quarters? Before she could lose her nerve—or be discovered by someone—she knocked softly.
The door opened almost immediately, but only about a foot.
“Something wrong, Faith?” he asked.
She shook her head, about to speak, when he bent down.
“No,” he said firmly. “Get back, both of you.” When he stood, he held two kittens.
Faith tried to hide her laugh.
“Come in before the whole herd escapes,” Joe said, whisking her in and shutting the door quickly. “Cinder, don’t even think about it.”
“And here I was worried you were all alone.” Faith bent down to pet the black kitten, which clawed at the bottom of her pant leg. “I figured you’d found a home for these guys. When did you move them in here?”
“Few days ago. Sanchez complained about having them in the office. Wuss claims he’s allergic to them.”
“Where’s Blaze?” she asked, scanning the cramped room for the orange kitten who’d had trouble nursing. The mama cat was snoozing in a fuzzy nest of blankets in the corner by an overfilled bookcase. A light gray baby was curled up next to her, but the rest of the litter were awake and ready to get into mischief, crawling all over the room.
“My aunt has her for now. Still needs to be fed by hand every few hours and I can’t always do it when I’m on duty. I’m trying to convince her to make it permanent.”
Faith knelt on the floor and held her hand out to the mother cat, speaking in a soft voice. “Hey, girlie, you’re a good mama.”
The cat raised her head and sniffed the offered hand, then closed her eyes again. Faith stroked her soft fur.
