Chapter 14
“Is this enough cheese, Mom?” Jalen asked the next night. “Huh? Does this look like enough? Mom?”
Lia, who’d just punched down the rising homemade pizza dough and was getting ready to divide it into thirds, glanced at Jalen, who stood on a stool on the other side of the kitchen. He’d insisted on grating the whole two pounds of mozzarella for make-your-own-pizza night and now had a small mountain of shredded white bits overflowing his bowl and trailing over the counter. If they started eating it tonight and cycled through their entire repertoire of Italian food—lasagna, manicotti and ravioli—it would take them about, oh, two years to use all that cheese.
“Yeah,” Lia said dryly. “I think that’s enough.”
The sarcasm was, as usual, lost on Jalen, who was in raptures of delight over the fun-filled Friday evening he had planned for his parents. Having belatedly realized that Thomas had been eating dinner with them almost every night, he had, this morning, declared that they could have pizza, watch Star Trek and end the evening with batches of both brownies and popcorn.
What could be better, right?
She was excited, too; no point pretending that she wasn’t. Evenings with the men in her life were the best parts of her days, no question. She watched indulgently as Jalen rearranged the bowls of toppings, fussing over the red peppers.
“I think we need another red pepper, Mom. He likes red peppers. Bones does, too, Mom. Green peppers aren’t the same—”
Uh-oh. “Do not,” she began sternly, looking over her shoulder, her hands still filled with dough, “give that rabbit one more piece of—”
Too late. Jalen had already stooped to feed a strip of red pepper into Bones’s nibbling mouth. The rabbit, being no dummy, liked to be in the thick of things at all times, especially when something was brewing in the kitchen, and had been hovering at the bottom of the stool for several minutes now. Before she knew it, the pepper was gone as though it had never existed. G-O-N-E. Both boy and bunny were now blinking up at her with expressions of utmost innocence. For effect, Bones wriggled his little nose at her.
Rather than deliver her usual lecture about the need to control their pet’s diet, Lia laughed. She couldn’t help it; too much was right with her world these days to worry about little things like the BMI of their floppy-eared bunny. Jalen was fine now, aglow with the pink health that came from his powerful new kidney. He showed no signs of rejection. He didn’t have to go to dialysis any more and had as bright a future as any other little boy his age.
She, meanwhile, had rediscovered a part of herself that she thought had died along with her husband all those years ago. It was okay to laugh now. Fine to feel lighthearted. Perfectly acceptable to have a man in her life and in her bed. She did not, for once, have to maintain constant vigilance against the threat of impending doom, because there was no impending doom.
Things just might, this one time, turn out okay.
“Okay, smarty,” she told her son, still laughing. “Feed him all you want. See if I care. But guess who’s going to be cleaning up after him if he gets with diarrhea? Not me.”
Jalen stuck out his tongue and made a gagging face. “Sorry, dude,” he said to Bones, whose ears twitched with anticipation. “I’m cutting you off.”
Bones stared up at Jalen, waiting.
Jalen stood his ground.
Bones, apparently sensing defeat, decided to back off. He hopped under the stool and settled down, closing his eyes for a nap.
Lia finished with the dough, washed her hands and took inventory of the food. Cheese, toppings, sauce, salad in the fridge… Was she forgetting anything?
Inside her jeans pocket, her cell phone vibrated, startling her. She fished it out, saw that it was Thomas and felt her pulse kick into overdrive.
“Hi,” she said. “How are you?”
“Better now that I’m hearing your voice. How was your day?”
“Not bad. What about you?”
“Eh,” he said. “Hey listen. I’m going to get a drink with Stubbs and DeWinter.”
Lia’s smile froze with disappointment, but she did a good job of keeping her voice upbeat. “Oh, yeah?”
“Yeah. They’ve been giving me a fair amount of shit for neglecting them since you and I got together. I hope you don’t mind.”
Lia stared at all the food, the DVD in its case on the counter and her son’s expression, bright with happy expectation, which was soon to be dashed like hers had just been.
“Nope,” she said. “I don’t mind at all.”
“You sure?”
“Absolutely. Here’s Jalen.”
“Lia—”
Passing off the phone, Lia told herself she was being stupid. So Thomas wasn’t coming tonight; big deal. She felt fairly certain that the sun would still rise in the morning. Anyway, this was what she got for assuming he’d come tonight, just because he usually came. Had he said he would come? No, he had not. Did he owe her anything more than the polite phone call he’d just given her? No, he did not. Were they free agents? Yes, they were. Had she taken him for granted? Yes, she had.
Any disappointment she was feeling was the result of her own foolishness and no more than she deserved.
And yet she still felt that niggling doubt, which was always hovering in the background. Because, let’s get real, Thomas was a successful, single man with a thrilling and demanding career, a life of his own and a reputation with the ladies. Yeah, he seemed to enjoy their time together, but that was no reason for her to assume he’d always be there, was it?
After all, what were the chances that a man like him would be happy, long term, playing house with his son and baby mama?
Thomas swallowed the last of his beer, took another surreptitious glance at his watch—9:13 p.m. now, exactly two minutes after his previous time check—and wondered how soon he could leave without being rude. Not that manners mattered much with this motley crew.
“This is my round,” Lucien announced, reaching into his back pocket and signaling the server with a wave.
“Are you actually dipping into your wallet?” Jerome recoiled, looking worried, and threw a protective arm in front of Thomas. “Watch out, Thomas. You don’t want to get hit by any flying moths or bats. Uh-oh. There he goes. Duck!”
“No beer for you,” Lucien said cheerfully, withdrawing a twenty and handing it to the server, who hovered over the table balancing her tray. “Thomas? Another Corona?”
“I’m good,” Thomas said quickly. “I need to get going.”
Too late.
“You know what?” Lucien, who was feeling no pain by this point, leaned back to regard the server with a solemn expression. “My buddies and I have had a long day. We worked hard. Saved a couple of lives. Let’s have a man’s drink, shall we? Bring out the tequila. Make it Cuervo, okay?”
Jerome rubbed his hands with gleeful anticipation.
“None for you,” Lucien told him sharply, but he winked at the server as she left, and there was no question that she’d reappear in a minute with three shot glasses.
Great. Now Thomas was stuck here for another round, and who knew how long that could take with these two knuckleheads. He checked his watch again: 9:15 p.m. And a half. Just great.
What the hell was he even doing here, hanging out with the fellas when he could be at home? He realized he now thought of Lia’s house as home. He could be there tucking his kid in bed, unwinding over a bottle of wine with Lia, making love with her and falling asleep while still buried deep inside her body. He’d traded that for this?
Dragging his tired ass to a dark and musty bar with peanut shells on the floor, Kool & The Gang blaring “Ladies’ Night” over the speakers and a couple of drinks while these two dished out the latest Hopewell General gossip like a couple of reporters for Entertainment Tonight? Really? Because they’d called him whipped and used peer pressure to guilt him into it?
Way to go, genius.
By now, Jalen was in bed, asleep, Lia was showe
red and sweet smelling and they were snuggled in for the night without him. Hell, even the damn bunny was there with them, probably having more fun than he was right now.
Really brilliant, Bradshaw.
The server clicked his shot glass down on the table in front of him. Feeling particularly bitter about the loss of a night with his family, he tossed it back in one hard gulp and reflected on the poor quality of his life choices today. Much as he wanted to, he couldn’t blame his current unhappiness on his buddies.
The thing was, he’d thought he needed to come tonight. Why? Well, because he’d had a dark moment this afternoon, a beat or two when the fear that’d been simmering over low heat in the back of his brain suddenly rolled to a full and terrifying boil.
What was he afraid of?
All the recent changes in his life. The sudden and overwhelming responsibilities he now had. The loss of his life as a carefree single and the fact that he didn’t much think of it as a loss and had been thinking thoughts that, mere weeks ago, would have been unimaginable.
Like what? Like tires, for one thing. The tires on Lia’s car—
“He’s going at it again,” Jerome said.
“I noticed,” replied Lucien. “See that glazed look in his eyes? That’s always a giveaway, isn’t it?”
Lia’s tires were going bald and needed to be replaced. Hell, her whole car needed to be replaced. The Honda had served her well, but it was old now and it wasn’t the safest thing on the road, especially when it was his woman and his boy riding in it. He wanted to buy her a new car, maybe an SUV, because Jalen would be running around with all his little friends for sports and other activities soon. But if he knew Lia, and he did, she wouldn’t like him buying stuff like that for her. She was way too proud. So maybe he should trade in his BMW and get an SUV, then let her borrow it. Or maybe one of them should get a minivan. Minivan? Him? Where in God’s name had that idea come from?
“And he’s staring off in the distance, with no focus,” Jerome said. “See that?”
“I’m concerned about his fixed pupils,” said Lucien.
Then there was the whole living-arrangement issue. Why were they paying two mortgages? Did that make sense when he was practically living with them? No, it did not. He was thinking of selling his house and moving into hers, not that he’d said any of this to Lia yet. Or maybe selling both houses and buying a new one, because his house was a bachelor pad and the thought of his boy climbing and dangling from all the metal railings gave him the chills.
Living with a woman? With a kid? Him?
Yeah, right.
Terrifying.
Actually, his thoughts about their joint and combined future didn’t terrify him. No. It was his absolute certainty that he and Lia belonged together. That terrified him. What basis did he have for thinking he could be a successful partner and father? Because of the stellar example the Admiral had set for him?
Yeah. Sure.
Bottom line? He knew how to be a good surgeon, and that was about it.
And what about—
Sudden raucous laughter cut across his thoughts and brought him back to the here and now at the table, where Lucien and Jerome were staring at him, damn near doubled up with convulsions.
“What’s so funny?” Thomas asked, like he really wanted to know.
“You’re an embarrassment, Bradshaw. You know that? Why don’t you go on home, you whipped punk? Hold a ball of yarn for Lia while she knits or take the garbage out. Get outta our sight.”
“You make us sick,” Lucien added. The fact that Lucien was madly in love with his fiancée didn’t keep him from talking shit to Thomas. Hell, he was probably relieved there was another whipped man around to take the heat off him. “We don’t want to be seen with you.”
“Please.” Thomas had to laugh as he got up and, just for fun, snatched up Lucien’s shot of tequila and drained it down before he could register a protest. “I’ve got more testosterone in my little fingernail than you two clowns put together.”
This caused the conversation to degenerate further into good-natured jeers and insults, and Thomas was still laughing when his cell phone vibrated in the pocket of his slacks. Checking the display, he smiled wider when he realized it was Lia.
Jerome rolled his eyes with mock disgust. “Bradshaw’s out past his curfew, man,” he told Lucien. “He’s in for a smackdown when he gets home.”
Thomas turned his back on them and spoke into the phone. “Hey. I was just about to call you.”
“Hi.” There was a shaky quality to Lia’s voice, which made unease slither up his back. “Thank God I caught you.”
“What is it?”
“It’s Jalen.” Her shuddering breath told him she was barely keeping it together. She paused, and then she spoke the darkest fears of any parent of a transplant patient. “I had to bring him to the E.R. He’s running a fever. I’m afraid he’s rejecting his kidney.”
Lia trudged down the steps and into the softly lit living room later that night, feeling as though she’d just crossed the finish line of a triathlon only to be hit by a speeding freight train and dragged several miles. Thomas, who was in the kitchen hovering over a tea-kettle, didn’t look much better. His eyes were shadowed, and his face was tight with strain. Yeah, they were both running on fumes. There was nothing like a health scare with your kid for taking fifteen good years off your life.
Collapsing onto the sofa, she watched as he fixed her a cup of her favorite chamomile and then topped it off with what looked like two inches of Scotch from a bottle she’d forgotten she had. For himself, he poured only Scotch into a mug, drained it in a gulp or two, gasped, then filled and drank again. He walked in silence to the sofa, sat beside her and passed her the steaming tea.
At three in the morning, drinking anything with alcohol in it was a bad idea, especially since they were just back from the E.R. One sip would keep her awake for hours and anything more than that would put her instantly to sleep for about fifteen minutes, and then she’d be awake for what was left of the night. Plus, with a sick kid in the house, she needed to keep her wits about her, and God knew she was already edgy enough, filled with a gnawing agitation that made her wonder when her nerves would start snapping like the strings on Charlie Daniels’s fiddle.
On the other hand, she’d just been catapulted back into the nightmare of wondering if her kid was going to become deathly sick and die before she could do anything to help him, and she needed something to help her cope.
She drank deeply, scalding her mouth in the process.
“Hey.” Thomas, his brow furrowed with worry, put one big hand on the back of her neck, working her nape with those strong fingers in a futile attempt to soothe her. “Take it easy. Everything’s fine.”
Sure. That was the kind of bullshit commentary that drove her through the roof. She shifted down the sofa and out of his reach, throwing up one hand in a defensive move. She saw his jaw tighten.
“Everything is not fine.”
“It’s just sinusitis, Lia. His kidney function is great.”
“Thanks for the reminder.” She drank again, nearly choking against the burn as the Scotch tracked its way down her esophagus. “You’d think I’d know the difference between a rejected kidney and a sinus infection, but no. Good thing the poor kid’s father is a trained medical professional, eh?”
“Why are you being so hard on yourself? Either one can cause a fever. And you thought his congestion was caused by his seasonal allergies. You took the cautious approach, which was absolutely the right thing to do with a transplant kid. No damage done.”
“You don’t get it.” What was with his calm and patient routine? Did he not understand that his logic, in combination with her blind mother’s panic, was about to make her head explode? “Everything was fine this time. Jalen got sent home this time. Jalen didn’t reject the kidney that you sacrificed for him this time. But next time…?”
“Hell, next time he may get flattened by a falling satellite on
his way to the hospital. We’ll take each day as it comes. That’s the best we can do, Lia.”
“You still don’t get it,” she cried.
Putting his cup on the coffee table in a gesture that was as tired as a hundred-year-old man at bedtime, Thomas sighed, rested his elbows on his knees and put his face in his hands. After a long minute, he sat up, scrubbed his hands over his head and stared at her with those weary eyes.
“Help me get it, Lia,” he said quietly.
“You want to get it? Here’s the bottom line. I’m an idiot.”
“What?”
“That’s right. I’m an idiot. You know why? Because I thought that Jalen would get his kidney and he’d be fine, and we’d be finished with sickness and fear for the rest of our lives.” A burst of wild laughter surged up her throat. “Stupid, eh?”
“Lia—”
“But, hey! Now I’ve had the dose of reality I needed, haven’t I? It’s like God has tapped me on the shoulder with a reminder. Hey, you big dummy! Don’t forget that things never work out well for you and your family in the end. Maybe not today, but one day, Jalen probably will reject that kidney, and then you’ll be back to square one. You may have peaceful moments or happy moments, but, hey, don’t get comfortable because they won’t last. Don’t get your hopes up, girl, okay?”
The ringing silence following her hysterical outburst only made her feel crazier. The wheels spun in Thomas’s mind—she could almost hear them—as he worked on a response that wouldn’t set her off again. Poor man. She wanted to tell him not to bother.
“Lia.” He put a hand on her knee, and that gentle caress, when she was feeling so unhinged, was like the touch of a hot poker. She jerked away, and Thomas’s clear frustration made him snatch that hand back and clench it into a white-knuckled fist. Still, he tried. “I don’t have any magical words of comfort for you. I wish I did, but I don’t. Jalen’s picture is much brighter now, but he’ll always have health issues that we’ll have to monitor. But we’re in this together now, and I—”
The Surgeon's Secret Baby Page 15
