Love of Steele

by Ivy Raine

  “I don’t remember all of the details exactly, but I think it took about five for mine from start to finish.” Andrew looked at his watch. “Don’t forget they’ll take him back to recovery for a while.”

  “Recovery. Yeah, I forgot about that.” Rubbing a hand over her tired eyes, Marta strained to remember when her mom had knee surgery. She was in recovery for at least an hour before they called her in to see her.

  “Lindi’s been gone for a while. Do you think we should go find her?” Andrew looked up and down the hall just outside the waiting room. “Scratch that,” he said. “Here she comes now.”

  “Sorry I took so long.” Three hot coffees formed a pyramid in Lindi’s petite fingers. “I figured we could all use a pick-me-up. Any news yet?”

  “Not yet,” said Andrew, handing Marta her cup of coffee. “It can’t be much longer.”

  “Why don’t we play a game to help pass the time?” Lindi motioned for Marta to sit down beside her. “Let’s call it the Stash surprise.” The glimmer in Lindi’s eyes got their attention. “I know something about Stash that neither of you know.”

  Marta raised a brow and Andrew laughed.

  “You probably know a million things about Stash that I don’t know,” he said, “but shoot.”

  “That’s the point,” said Lindi. “You know things that we couldn’t possibly know and Marta knows things that neither of us knows. I’ll go first.” She cleared her throat. “Stash adores kids.”

  Marta’s mouth gaped and Andrew just stared.

  “Not my brother. He hates kids. Calls them urchins.”

  Lindi shook her head. “Nope. That’s an act. He told me he loves kids and can’t wait to have a gaggle of them. You should’ve seen him with Josie. He’s a natural.”

  Andrew shivered. “I guess that’s one more way we’re different. Kids,” he said to himself, trying to make it sink in.

  Marta grinned. “I’ve got one that I’m pretty sure he’s not bragging about. Stash washed and ironed my work uniforms every, single day.”

  Andrew laughed out loud. “Seriously? He actually knows how to use an iron? I’m impressed! He must’ve been watching our housekeeper a little too closely when we were kids. Not that I didn’t watch her on occasion, too,” he added with an evil grin. “Now I’m gonna have to tease him and buy him a French maid’s outfit.”

  The room erupted with laughter at the thought of Stash wearing the tiny, little skirt.

  “Your turn, Andrew. And make it something good,” said Lindi, still laughing.

  “Hmm. Something good.” Andrew sat back in his chair and laced his fingers behind his head. “There’re so many damning incidents to pull from. Where do I start?” He thought a little more before snapping his fingers. “Got one. Did you know,” he began, drawing out his words enticingly, “that Stash was once arrested for impersonating…himself?”

  Marta and Lindi looked at each other and then back at Andrew.

  “Go on,” said Marta, curious to see where this would end up.

  “Yeah. Well, Stash was never one for carrying his identification around, and he liked to get into things that were a bit mainstream and conventional. He basically wore jeans and t-shirts around the clock when we were younger, and honestly, he didn’t clean up too often. Grease under his fingernails from working on his car, miscellaneous cuts, scrapes and bruises, messy hair. You get the picture. One day he came home to find the door being butled by a new guy – a very big new guy. Well, the guy wasn’t taking any of Stash’s bullshit explanations and he refused to let him in. When Stash tried climbing in through the library window, the new guy called the police and Stash was arrested on breaking and entering into his own house. Took about eight hours to get it all straightened out. Needless to say, grandpa fired the new butler, but Stash insisted we keep him. He said anyone who would defend the house like that damned well deserved their job. Eleven years later and Cob’s still with us.” Andrew’s eyes lost their light. “Old Cob’ll be pretty upset when he finds out Stash didn’t tell him he was sick.”

  Marta had issues on that one, herself. “I’m sure he had his reasons.”

  “He was angry,” a lone voice rang out.

  Marta looked at Lindi, squirming in the chair like a thirteen year old waiting in the principal’s office.

  “Was it something I did?” Marta knew full well Stash had a multitude of reasons to be angry with her, but she hoped it wasn’t enough to make him up and leave like he did.

  Lindi shook her head. “He wasn’t angry at anyone but himself. I think he was trying to punish himself for not being the kind of person the people in his life deserved. He kept telling me that he couldn’t think of a single person who was better off for having met him. It was fever delirium talking, of course, but he said that no one would be the worse if he died, so there was no point in telling anyone. He didn’t think anyone would miss him.”

  Misting up, Marta squeezed the arm of the chair. “What a dope!”

  Wrapped up in conversation, they didn’t hear the doctor come in.

  “The Steele family?”

  The trio practically stumbled over each other getting to the doctor.

  “Your pager doesn’t seem to be working.” The doctor smiled, the imprint of the mask still on his face. “Everything went great and Aaron’s in recovery. He did very well. Zero problems. Minimal bleeding. We’re very pleased.”

  Marta caught Lindi’s hand. “Thank God! How soon can we see him?”

  “We’ll need to watch him for another two hours before we let family back in with him, but we’ll find you when it’s time.”

  “And the donor?” The air seemed to suck out of the room when Andrew asked the question.

  The guilt Marta felt for completely forgetting about the donor engulfed her, and a blanket of shame wrapped her up in its suffocating grip. She would need to mentally chastise herself later for this one. Lindi must have felt it too, because her fingernails dug into Marta’s hand.

  The doctor nodded. “The donor’s been in recovery for over three hours. He did incredibly well.” He looked at their haggard faces and smiled. “As the doctor, I’m ordering you three to go get something to eat. Everyone’s going to be fine.”

  He did the little spin that every doctor seems to have perfected, and he disappeared as quickly as he had come.

  Andrew looked at the girls. “You heard him, ladies. Lunch time. I’m buying.”

  Marta snatched the ill-working pager from the table. “That’s great because I don’t think I have enough money for the amount of food I’m going to eat. You’ve been warned, Andrew!”

  Andrew reached out and grabbed Lindi and Marta and pulled them in for a hug. “Thank you, both. You’ve stuck around when most people would have bailed out on him.”

  “Do you suppose the donor had family waiting on him?” Marta felt sick inside thinking the donor lay in a room with no one to visit.

  “I’m sure of it,” Andrew said. “They don’t do these things without someone being there. Come on,” he prodded, heading for the door. “Stash wouldn’t want us to stand here starving.”

  Marta laughed. That was the first thing Andrew had uttered that sounded even remotely close to Stash. “Did he happen to mention to you that we kind of ate all of your shrimp at the beach house?”

  “Is that what he thought?” Andrew grinned. “I had Jack fill the fridge when Stash called and asked if he could borrow the cottage for the day.”

  “Ha! And Stash thinks he got one over on you.” Marta hooked her arm through Andrew’s as they walked. “I don’t suppose he told you about the skunk.”

  “Skunk?”

  “And the use of your bubble bath.”

  “Bubble bath.”

  Marta raised a brow. “And…your pajamas.”

  A devious smile lit up Andrew’s face and he slipped his arm up over Marta’s shoulder. “Do tell.” The sex practically dripped from his lips.

  Marta raised a brow. “And you said you were nothing al
ike.”

  The buzz of the lunch crowd filled Marta with energy. It was good to be alive, good to feel alive. She realized there was, indeed, a difference between the two – a big difference.

  “I need to check in on Josie. Excuse me for just a minute, please.” Lindi grabbed her phone and headed for a quiet spot. “Snag me some chicken strips!” she called over her shoulder.

  Andrew grabbed an extra plate. “I think I can do this.”

  “I’ll help,” said Marta, reaching for his plate.

  “No, not this. I mean Stash.” He piled the chicken strips onto Lindi’s plate. “I spent a good portion of last night thinking about everything you said, and I came to the conclusion that I don’t belong to myself. Not in the sense that someone else controls me, but in a way that I constrain myself out of guilt. I’ve always felt like I was expected to live my life a certain way – his way – because I have his kidney. I feel like I can never be all that he is. That’s where the trouble comes in. We’re not the same person, and I’ve been trying to be a poor duplicate of Stash, when I should have been the best version of myself.”

  “Survivor’s guilt.” Marta was an expert on the subject. “That’s what you’ve been suffering from. I know because I’ve felt it myself.”

  Andrew scoped out a table. “Kyle?” He caught the surprised look on Marta’s face. “No, I’m not psychic. Stash told me just in case something happened. He wanted me to make sure you got help.”

  “Figures. He was worried about me.” Marta misted up. “He’s so much more than what he lets the world see.”

  Andrew nodded. “He’s bigger than life. He always was, even when he wasn’t trying. He doesn’t flaunt his money. Never has. He treats everyone the same. You’ll see him in jeans and an old shirt before he’d bother to go out and buy something new. Now, me? I’ll take the hot woman, the new car, the fancy clothes, and the luxury house. Not because it’s important to me, but because I feel like I have to prove that I’m worth something. I think I’ve been trying to break free for years and just didn’t realize it.”

  “Well, one thing I know for sure,” said Marta, claiming an empty table. “Stash wouldn’t want you to live like that. He’s a free spirit and he’d never put you in a mental prison.”

  “I know, but I deserve it.” He looked away, ashamed. “I’ve done just about a million things I’m really not proud of. Done them out of spite, rebellion, whatever you want to call it. Stash never did anything to instigate it. It just happened.”

  Marta sighed and shook her head. “You two need to talk this out. You’re both misunderstanding each other. It’s like you’re two trains passing within inches and never really seeing each other.” She grabbed a chicken strip and bit off the end. “The first thing we’re doing as soon as Stash is feeling better is straightening this thing out once and for all. Got it?”

  “I think I’m gonna like having you for a sister. By the way,” he said, a devious smile playing at the corners of his lips, “I hear you’re an ad grad.”

  “You hear correctly.”

  “I’ve got a job for you if you want it. From what I’m told, that other place is a bitch to work for.”

  Marta laughed out loud. “Funny thing is, I’ve heard the same thing.”

  “Grandpa can be a bit of a bear.”

  The life sucked right out of Marta, a streak of panic racing through her veins. “Oh, my god! I hope he likes me.”

  Andrew threw his head back and laughed. It was a nice laugh. Much like Stash’s, but different enough to be unique to himself. “I don’t think you have anything to worry about. Let’s not forget who Stash last dragged home.”

  Devon. As much as she disliked her, Marta understood why she couldn’t keep away. Once you got a taste of Stash Steele, nothing else would do.

  The hour passed quickly, and even though she was expecting it, when the doctor showed up at their table, a wave of fear hit Marta, sending her heart rate off the charts.

  She looked at Andrew and Lindi. “Well, here we go.” All moisture evaporated from Marta’s mouth, and her lips stuck to her front teeth.

  Marta shuffled down the hall with Andrew and Lindi, the three forming a collective hive of nerves. Though her mind willed her to take the steps, Marta struggled to keep track of where her feet were going. She was numb from the inside out. It was time to face her forever.

  Scanning the face of each and every person she passed in the hall, Marta wondered if they could be the donor’s loved one. Maybe they’d even been in the cafeteria eating lunch at the same time.

  “I think I’m gonna be a little sick.” Lindi’s voice was just loud enough for Marta to hear over the clack of their shoes and the swish of the doctor’s overcoat as his arms moved at his sides in rhythm to his steps.

  Marta felt more than a little sick, herself. The chicken strips she’d had for lunch were dangerously close to coming back up.

  “It’ll be okay.” She grabbed Lindi’s hand and gave it a little squeeze, only she didn’t let go. She held on tight, fearing what she’d see. Trying with all of her might to push away the preconceived pictures in her head, Marta took a deep breath and held it for a few second before letting it out. Even the tried and true calming methods were refusing to work.

  After a dizzying number of twists and turns to the point of no return, the doctor stopped in front of a set of double, automatic doors. Within seconds the mammoth doors made a hissing sound and they opened up into the surgical ward.

  “This way ladies and gentleman.”

  The doctor led them down an extra wide corridor to yet another waiting room – only this one was made for royalty, it seemed. Before they could sit, the doctor held up his finger.

  “One at a time and make it short.” The doctor held the door, waiting for someone to move.

  Andrew looked at Marta, and Marta looked at Andrew.

  “You go first, Andrew. You’re his family.” As much as she wanted to bogard past everyone, Marta contained herself. Andrew needed this much more than she did.

  Andrew leaned over and kissed her cheek. “We’re his family.” He stood to follow the doctor. “I’ll be fast,” he said over his shoulder.

  Marta reached up and touched her cheek where she could still feel the tingle from Andrew’s lips. As much as he was physically like Stash, that’s where the majority of it ended.

  “Weird, huh.” Lindi’s voice broke the stifling silence of the waiting room.

  Marta nodded. “Yep. So much alike and yet so different.”

  Lindi pulled out her cell and punched in a text message to Brad. “So what now?” she said, hitting the send button.

  Marta smiled. “Now, we start living.”

  Chapter 18

  “Kyle! Wait up! Why are you running away from me?” Marta struggled to keep up with the wide strides of lanky Kyle.

  “If you can’t keep up, then go back home,” he called over his shoulder. “Besides, I don’t want a stinking girl hanging around, anyway.”

  Marta stopped in her tracks. “Fine! Next time you want a snitch, you can just get someone else!”

  This made Kyle stop and turn around. She had him now. No one else would agree to help him spy on Kelsie Connors. Whether she wanted to or not, Marta knew things about Kelsie that would make a sailor blush.

  “Oh, okay,” he grumbled. “But try to keep up. I’m in a hurry.”

  Marta didn’t budge. “Do you promise not to run away from me anymore?”

  Kyle tapped his foot against the tar bubbles rising up from the hot pavement. He made a face and rolled his eyes. “Fine. I promise. But only for the summer! Come fall, all bets are off and you’re on your own.” He tried his darndest to put on the face of annoyance, but a smile eked out. He shook his head and held out his hand. “Oh, come on, Piglet.”

  Piglet. Marta liked it when Kyle called her that. It was sort of a pet name he made up when they first met. She’d been covered in filth from playing in a dirt pile on the day he and his family moved into the
house next door. He dubbed her piglet, and piglet she stayed until the glory years hit – then he just called her plain, old Marta.

  “Marta …Marta!”

  The sound of her name snatched Marta from her dream. Though, for just a moment, she could have sworn she heard Kyle calling to her.

  A gentle breeze licked at Marta’s face and sent her curls off in ten different directions. It was hot, but she didn’t mind. The long, cold winter of Stash’s recovery was over and if you didn’t know what the last ten months had entailed, you’d never guess it from the strong, healthy man that ran across the sandy beach. She winced just a little when she saw his deep, red scar peeking out from the top of his trunks. Stash threw his arm up and blew her a kiss.

  “Come on down, beautiful!”

  Marta laughed and waved him off. “Stash junior’s tired – and so am I!” She stroked her ever-growing belly and received a tiny bump from a knee or elbow in reply.

  The salty smell of the ocean washed over her, invading every corner of her soul. No longer did she associate the smell with negative thoughts, and she even welcomed the frequent, happy memories and dreams of Kyle. Marta closed her eyes as the warmth of the sand eked up through her beach towel. Warm, safe, happy. Life had changed so much in the last ten months – and so had Stash. Gone was the man with the cynical outlook. He’d taken off his mask and revealed his true self to Marta. And he was wonderful. He and Andrew were finally close in the way brothers should be. They merged their businesses and had become more successful than either had ever dreamed possible. They discovered that two equal but different points of view are much better than one.

  Marta felt a spray of sand against the soles of her feet. She didn’t open her eyes. She’d know his scent anywhere.

  “If Junior needs a nap, then Junior gets a nap. Daddy’s just gonna lay here and protect his little clan.” Stash rested his hand on Marta’s belly. “So, do you think it’ll really be a junior, or should we maybe think of a girl’s name – just in case?”