Devoted

by Sierra Riley

He hadn’t forgotten that at all, even if he wished he could.

  “Point taken,” he said, giving her a half smile. “Did I ever thank you for that?”

  “You didn’t barf in my closet. That was thanks enough.”

  Jake cringed. “Lovely.”

  She moved behind him and gripped his shoulders, squeezing a little before leaning down and draping her arms loosely over his chest. It was an intimate gesture, and if anyone walked in on them now, they’d probably think the two of them were lovers.

  He and Lynn would both laugh hysterically at that notion, of course.

  “You know I’m always going to be here no matter what, J. If I can help you avoid some of these things, I will. But I know you’re going to do what you’re going to do.”

  Jake lifted his hand, resting it over one of Lynn’s. “Yeah, well. I can’t even deny that.”

  She gave him a half-hug before letting up, then using the mirror above the sink to straighten her hair. Jake smiled. That was just the perfect example of Lynn’s personality.

  “I’m just trying to be a good friend, you know? With Carrie gone, he doesn’t have anybody. He works at home, he doesn’t really go out all that often…”

  Lynn grinned. “I’m sure he’ll be happy to know you think he’s a total shut-in.”

  He scoffed. “You know what I mean.”

  “I do. And I know it’s a load of bullshit. You’re a good friend. I’m living proof of that, and I’ll testify on your behalf whenever you want. But honey, the stuff you do for me? It isn’t the same as the stuff you do for Russ.”

  She was right about that. Jake had always considered himself a loyal friend. He’d answered his phone in the dead of night and started up his car in the middle of winter to pick up Lynn from a creepy guy’s house before. But he jumped at the chance to do even the tiniest thing for Russ.

  It was starting to look a little pathetic.

  “So how do I help him as a friend?”

  Lynn leaned against the counter once more, crossing one ankle over the other. Jake almost laughed at the glitter-covered sneakers she was wearing underneath what was likely a very expensive outfit.

  “You help when he asks, and not before. He’ll come to you if he needs you. No more of this doing things behind his back stuff. Okay?”

  Jake nodded grudgingly. “Okay.”

  Before he could say anything else, his phone rang again. He pulled it out and saw Russ’s picture on the screen. Shooting a glance up to Lynn—who was looking back at him with one brow raised—he answered the phone.

  “Anything new?”

  “They want me to pick a hospital for the surgery. How the hell am I supposed to know which hospital is better for this? Northwest has a good peds facility, but Hamilton has better reviews. Who the fuck reviews a hospital, though?”

  Russ was on the edge of being frantic. He could hear it in his friend’s voice. That must have meant Ryan wasn’t nearby. There was no way Russ would let his son hear him like this.

  “Okay, first things first. Take a deep breath and calm down.”

  He walked Russ through the decision, weighing out the pros and cons. Lynn left halfway through the conversation, and he thought he saw her mouth the words “be careful.” After about twenty minutes of discussing the benefits of Northwest Regional versus Hamilton, though, Russ had calmed considerably.

  “I guess Northwest will be better. They’re closer to the house anyway, so I can get him home quick and get him anything he needs while he’s there.”

  “I know a few contacts at Northwest. I can see about getting someone specific to do his pre-op care, if you want?”

  Damn it. He was already failing. Russ hadn’t asked for this.

  “Nah, it’s okay.” Jake heard papers shuffling around in the background, and the sound of a chair scraping against the kitchen tile. Russ must be home. “You still coming over tonight?”

  He stopped himself from issuing the very enthusiastic “of course” that wanted to spring forth.

  “Right after I run by the bank. How’s six sound?”

  He knew Lynn would shake her head at this, but he’d already offered to come over. He couldn’t just make up some excuse to stay away. Not when Russ needed him.

  “Sounds good to me. I’ll see you then.”

  Right now, he didn’t have time to think about whether or not he was giving off a desperate vibe. Lynn’s judgment was usually solid, but when it came to this, there were too many extenuating circumstances. If he could help Russ and Ryan in any way, he was going to do it. No matter what signals it might send.

  7

  Russ

  Russ had been sitting at the kitchen table since he’d called Jake.

  Ryan was in his room, playing his Xbox. After three o’clock or so, he could hear his son’s voice drift downstairs a few times, and guessed he had his headset on and was talking to his friends. They played a few shooters together. Nothing too intense, but Russ had no worries that video games were going to turn his son into a homicidal maniac.

  Even if he’d come to a different conclusion, though, he didn’t think he’d be able to bring himself to tell Ryan he couldn’t play with his friends right now. He idly wondered what his son was telling them; if he was talking to them about the surgery and everything that was going on with him, or if he was brushing it off and pretending nothing was wrong.

  But aside from going up regularly to check on him, Russ didn’t intrude. It didn’t feel right. Ryan was ten, but he’d always acted older than his age. Probably because he was an only child. He’d noticed his son was more of an introvert, too. Just like him. So if he needed a chance to process all of this, Russ would give it to him.

  Besides, it wasn’t as if Russ didn’t have a million other things to deal with. He’d printed out insurance paperwork and documentation and had been looking through it for hours, trying to find anything that would give him an out. He’d also opened up the paperwork he’d gotten from the Airforce about the benefits Carrie had left for her family.

  Nothing was jumping out at him, though. There didn’t seem to be a loophole—some sudden answer that would make all of this okay. Carrie’s benefits wouldn’t cover it, plain and simple. And while his insurance would ensure he didn’t pay over a certain amount for hospital treatments and surgeries, he was still going to cough up at least $5,000 out of pocket before this was all said and done.

  And he just didn’t have that kind of money lying around.

  By the time he looked up, it was already starting to get dark outside, which meant Jake would be there any moment. He tried to make some semblance of order out of his chaos, stacking the papers loosely, and put everything aside for a little while.

  He needed the break, honestly, and padded over to the fridge to break open a six-pack.

  When he saw Jake’s car pull into the drive, he opened up the front door and greeted his friend, handing him a longneck right off the bat.

  “You weren’t kidding about that six-pack,” Jake said with a smile, taking the bottle.

  “I never kid about beer.”

  “Tell that to all the prestige you lost me in college.”

  “I didn’t say I never kid while on beer,” he said with a grin, knowing exactly what Jake was talking about.

  They’d never really been big partygoers, but one semester during Rush they’d decided it would be fun to see if they could get into a frat house, even knowing they’d turn it down in the end. One disastrous game of beer pong later, they’d learned their lesson about trying to keep up with frat boys.

  “Come on in. We just grabbed something on the way home, but I can heat up some leftovers if you want.”

  “Nah, I’m good.”

  He closed the door behind his friend and led him past the table he’d been tethered to all afternoon and into the living room. He flipped the TV on, mostly for background noise, and sank into the couch with a sigh.

  Forward momentum was the only thing keeping him upright, and he knew it. From
the looks on Jake’s face, he knew it, too.

  “Ryan upstairs?”

  “Yeah. He’s playing his games. Doesn’t really seem to want to talk about any of this.”

  Not with him, anyway.

  “He may come to you when it’s closer to the surgery. He probably has a lot of questions.”

  “Yeah, well. Hopefully I’ll have a few answers by then.”

  A yawn snuck up on him, and he stifled it as best he could. He’d tried to avoid giving Jake a reason to break out that deeply sympathetic look he was so good at, but apparently he wasn’t getting off the hook so easily.

  “You sure you don’t wanna catch a nap or something? I can keep an eye on Ryan.”

  “I’m good. I just need a few minutes to catch my breath.”

  He raised the bottle to his lips and took a sip. After all these years, he still didn’t really like the taste of beer. But Carrie had been a bit of a party girl in college, and she’d always been the one to score booze and anything else to help them all put off studying a little while longer.

  Sometimes he wondered how any of them graduated, let alone how Jake made it into med school.

  He remembered feeling stressed back then. Stretching the money he got from his parents and student loans. Trying not to fail out of a class he absolutely hated. Coming to terms with the idea that he didn’t want to be some high-level MBA like his dad, and instead wanted to use his degree to manage a small business.

  They’d all seemed like huge problems at the time, but now…

  “Do you think things were easier back in college? Or did they just get a hell of a lot harder over the past few years?”

  “I think having a kid probably makes things a million times harder,” he said with a small smile.

  That was the truth. Russ loved his son more than anything on the planet, but Ryan had introduced a lot of new stresses into his life. Things Russ would never have thought twice about in the past were now ever-present fears that lingered in the back of his mind.

  Jake may not have known what it was like to be a parent, but Russ knew he worried over his patients. And the hint of pain in his smile reminded him that his friend wasn’t childless by choice.

  He’d been trying to adopt for years, but was never given the green light because of his marital status. Or lack thereof.

  Shit. And here he was feeling stressed because he had a kid. Jake got all of the heartache with none of the benefit.

  They lapsed into silence, and Russ took another pull off his bottle. He liked being able to just sit with Jake like this. He couldn’t do that with anyone else, and it gave him a chance to get his thoughts in order and figure out what the hell he wanted to say.

  They probably made the world’s most pathetic picture right now, though. Two thirty-something guys sitting on the couch with a couple of Bud Lights, staring at the TV but not actually watching it. It might as well have been scripted.

  “Carrie would kick our asses right now,” Jake said.

  For a moment he wondered if his friend had just read his mind. He looked at Jake, saw the playful expression on his face, and he laughed. Actually honestly laughed, instead of awkwardly stumbling through a half-assed chuckle.

  “Jesus, you’re right. She’d pull us both off of the couch and make us move it so we could play Candy Land in the middle of the floor.”

  “You suck so bad at Candy Land.”

  Russ laughed again, shaking his head. “Whatever, man. That game was rigged as shit.”

  They’d had so many bets decided by that game. It was ridiculous, considering it was fucking Candy Land. But Carrie had found a way to make it extremely relevant to everyone’s interest. Back in college, that mostly meant stripping, drinking, and smoking whatever she’d managed to bring back for them.

  Sometimes in that order, even. It was a fucking wonder they hadn’t all ended up in some crazy three-way.

  Though damn if they hadn’t come close.

  When he thought of playing Candy Land with his friends, he immediately remembered one of Carrie’s more… intense dares. They’d all been drunk as shit before they even started playing, and had smoked a bowl between them on top of that.

  She’d gotten it into her head that Russ was a little bi-curious. And maybe he had been. Carrie had asked him offhandedly if he’d ever do a guy, and his answer of “I don’t know, Jake’s pretty good-looking” probably wasn’t the sort of thing a totally straight guy should say. And Carrie, being who she was, had decided to see how far he would go with it.

  “You remember the time she’d already reached Candy Castle, and said the last guy to make it there had to give the other a handy?” While she watched, of course. “I was winning the whole game, and then I rolled a fucking one for my last three plays.”

  Jake gave a laugh that sounded a little nervous. Apparently he did remember. He’d hoped Carrie hadn’t embarrassed him too much with that.

  “Brought down in the Peppermint Forest. I’m surprised she didn’t make you honor that bet.”

  There was a weird note to Jake’s voice, and Russ wondered if he remembered how things had gone down. He’d been prepared to make good on the bet. He’d even been a little excited for it, if he was honest with himself. But he’d just reached out for Jake’s belt before Carrie burst out laughing.

  He heard Jake take a big swig of his beer and realized they’d lapsed into an uncomfortable silence. Great. Jake probably was embarrassed by the thought of his best friend fumbling through a handjob.

  Time to change the subject.

  “What about when you guys decided it would be awesome to do an all-night, deathmatch style, right before midterms?”

  Jake’s face was pained as he groaned. “Oh, god. Don’t remind me. I think my brain fell asleep around five. My hands just kept rolling dice and moving pieces.”

  “I bet you still passed that midterm, though,” he said with a smirk.

  “Barely. I think the professor felt sorry for me. I fell asleep three times while I was trying to write the essay.”

  Russ just grinned at that. He’d been eliminated from that match early and had managed to catch a catnap in the middle of the dorm floor, but he’d still been late to his class and had taken partial credit.

  “You guys always knew how to keep me from taking myself too seriously, I’ll give you that. I was stressing over that exam for weeks. Without that game, I probably would’ve done even worse.”

  “Yeah,” Russ said with a fond smile.

  But as they lapsed into silence again, the pain returned. Not in a slow ache, but in a sudden rush. It was that agonizing feeling where his brain caught up with itself. At first, they were just sharing some stories about a mutual friend who wasn’t in the room. Then, all at once, those stories were about a mutual friend who wasn’t alive.

  Carrie wasn’t going to just walk down those stairs with the Candy Land box in tow. She was gone. All he had now were these memories. Memories he shared with Jake.

  “I miss her, Jake. People never tell you you’ll react to the stupidest shit, you know? Every time I see her toothbrush it fucking hurts. I want to throw it out, but I can’t, because then I’m just going to see the spot where it used to be, and that’s going to hurt even more.”

  “I know,” Jake said softly. “And I know it’s different for you. Way worse. But I know exactly what you mean. Every time I come to your house and I see the little turtle she and Ryan painted—the one right by the stairs?—it just kills me.”

  Russ nodded. He’d wanted to smash that turtle when he’d come home from the funeral, and again when he’d brought his wife’s urn back to the house. But he would never touch it. He couldn’t.

  “How am I supposed to do this? Ryan’s going to be a teenager soon. I can’t raise a teenager by myself. Jesus. I’ll be lucky if I can make it through this year.”

  “Hey,” Jake said, and Russ was forced to meet his gaze. His friend reached out and gripped his shoulder gently. “I already told you, you don’t have t
o do this alone, okay? All you have to do is call me and I’ll help you with anything you need.”

  If Jake had been anyone else, Russ would have thought those words were little more than well-meaning bullshit. But Jake meant it. The conviction in his eyes was almost frightening in its intensity. And it made Russ feel the slightest glimmer of hope, along with a little flutter in his chest that he quickly tamped down.

  “I know you will. Shit, you’re doing it right now. I just… Carrie was more than my wife. She was my partner. Somebody to bounce decisions off of. Somebody to correct me when I was doing the wrong thing. Somebody who would always be there. I miss having that. It feels like I’m flying blind right now.”

  Jake’s expression became pained once more, and he drew his hand back. His features grew somber, before he finally spoke again.

  “Have you considered remarrying?”

  The question hit Russ like a curtain of ice water dumped over his head. It left him chilled to the bone and shaking. It was just four words, but in an instant he felt as if his friend was asking him to commit the ultimate betrayal.

  “It’s been ten months, Jake. I didn’t lose a hamster. I can’t just go down to the store with a shoe box and get myself another wife.”

  “That’s not what I meant,” he said, his tone turning defensive. “I’m not saying you should try and replace Carrie. You and I both know that isn’t possible.”

  The only person in the world who got him as well as Carrie did was Jake, and he and Jake were just friends. As much as Russ appreciated his help, he wouldn’t ask him to fill that void. And he wasn’t interested in settling for second best. Not when he had a son to raise.

  With Ryan on his mind again, he pulled himself out of the state he’d settled into and rose off the couch. “It’s been a while since I checked on him. I’ll be back in a few minutes.”

  He didn’t look at Jake. He couldn’t. His friend meant well, he knew. But it was just too much. Instead, he set down his beer and headed for the stairs.

  8

  Jake