by Nicole Helm
“Could be dead,” he said flatly. “That’s what could be happening right now. Do you have any idea what it’s like to be kept in the dark like this? To find out just when things seem...right and balanced? To have it not be the first damn time?”
“No, but I know what it’s like to be in your mother’s shoes, and she shouldn’t wake up to find the people who need to take care of her at each other’s throats. Because she isn’t dead. She didn’t die the first time, and the likelihood of her dying in surgery to remove a tumor from her breast is slim.”
His gaze met hers for the first time, the range of emotions reflected in his gaze so raw it hurt her heart.
“You’re a cancer expert now? Heart transplant equals you know all about every damn procedure?”
She ignored it. Let the snotty comment roll right off her back. Grief made her do shitty things, too, right? “When I was in the hospital, my parents were constantly at each other’s throats. They tried to hide it, but I knew. And the minute we got home, they wouldn’t hide it. The disagreements on how to handle me right there in front of my face. It’s shit to be sick and hurting and know you’re causing everyone’s anger and stress. Do not do that to your mother.”
“I appreciate the perspective, but don’t tell me what to do.”
“Then stop being a dick so I don’t have to.”
“Go home, Leah. I don’t want you here anymore. You’d think someone with your experience wouldn’t be so terrible at this.”
She swallowed down the hurt and squared her shoulders. “I’m not going anywhere. Maybe you don’t want me, but Grace will.”
“Fine.”
“Fine.” She stomped back inside knowing she’d somehow screwed this all up. She should have comforted him and made him feel better, not worse. Not add on to his plate. Not think about herself. About their future.
But he was wrong. So damn wrong, and she’d been on the receiving end of that wrong too many times to let it slide. If that made her a horrible person, well, it wouldn’t be the first time.
* * *
JACOB STOOD APART from Leah and Grace. Dad had been taken back to Mom only a few minutes after he and Leah had returned.
Surgery had gone as well as could be expected. Her heart rate had dropped a little bit at a crucial point, causing the delay, but otherwise, the tumor had been removed.
And now the road to cancer recovery would begin. Again.
The fear. The pretending, because even though he knew this time around, there would be fake smiles and “you look greats” that nobody would believe. He tried to swallow, but the fizzling lump that had taken up residence in his throat made it impossible.
He pushed off the wall. “I’m going in there.”
“They said only Dad.”
“I don’t give a crap.”
Before he could get anywhere, Kyle stepped into the waiting room, holding a duffel bag and groceries.
“I think I got everything you asked for,” he said, taking a seat next to Grace. He placed the bags on the floor and slid an arm around Grace’s shoulders, kissing her on the forehead. “Your dad’s in there?”
Grace nodded and Jacob flicked a glance at Leah, but she was staring at her feet. Why couldn’t he be like Grace? Upset but calm. Leaning on the people she loved instead of treating them like shit.
He sank into a chair, his determination to do something gone. Because every time he opened his mouth, ugliness spewed out. Because...well, it was all he had. All he felt. How could he just take this in stride? They were good people. They made good choices. Worked hard. Paid their taxes. They weren’t perfect, but damn it, they were on the right side of the line.
Why did they keep getting punished for it?
Leah crossed over to him, though she stopped well out of his reach. “I guess...I’ll go.”
“Good.” He didn’t exactly use a snippy tone of voice, but “good” was a definite jerk move. He couldn’t seem to find a way to control his words.
“Why are you acting like this?” she asked, not so much sounding exasperated as hurt.
Why did he keep hurting her? Apparently he wasn’t on the right side of anything at the moment. Apparently he did make wrong choices. He was not a good person or he’d be able to handle this, be able to lean on Leah instead of pushing her away.
He took a shaky breath. “I don’t know.” And he didn’t know how to unclench, how to lean, how to...let go of the anger. But anger was something under his control. Anger was his. If he lost it, and only grief and fear took its place, he didn’t know who he’d be.
“It’s not helping anyone.”
“I know.” But it wasn’t about anyone else. It was about surviving all the emotions raging inside him.
“Let me stay. Let me help.”
“No. Thank you.” He didn’t know why he was angry at her or if he even was. He only knew when he saw sympathy on her face, his anger fell away, and all the hurt made him incapable of doing anything. And he had to be able to do something. He had to fix this somehow. Maybe she just needed to leave him alone so he could figure it out.
So he could stop thinking about how no one gave him credit, not even her, for being capable of handling something like this.
So he could stop thinking they were right.
“Jacob...”
“Say goodbye to your parents for me.”
She sighed. “All right.” Then she trailed her fingers across his hand. “You can call me if you need something.”
He nodded, staring at the place where her fingers had brushed. He wouldn’t. He couldn’t. Asking for help, leaning, letting go would mean he couldn’t make things right or better. Maybe yelling didn’t accomplish that, either, but at least it felt like motion.
The gaping hole of pain in his gut seemed to open wider, grow deeper, but he couldn’t make himself move to ask her to come back.
He should have said “I love you.” He should have given her a hug. He should have...not yelled at his dad. He should have done everything differently.
But Mom shouldn’t be dealing with cancer again, so...there.
The silent seconds ticked by, occasionally punctuated by the sound of someone else in the waiting room taking a call or getting news.
He hated all of them. Their tired faces and worried low chatter. He wished they’d all disappear.
He wished he could disappear.
Grace’s phone chimed. “They’re moving Mom to her room. We can see her.”
Jacob got stiffly to his feet. Though he wasn’t good for much of anything apparently, he did help Kyle gather the provisions he’d brought at Grace’s request. In silence, they followed Grace down linoleum-lined halls, into an elevator.
When they stepped out of the elevator, they were greeted by Dad and a small room with a couch and a fridge and a coffeemaker.
“A few days here,” Dad said, attempting a smile but only managing not to frown. “Luckily, there aren’t specific visiting hours—we can come and stay whenever we like—but probably only one of us can sleep here comfortably.”
“We should take turns,” Grace said, taking Dad’s hand.
He nodded. “We’ll see how it goes. I know she’d like to see you two. She’s worried and still a little groggy. I think we should do it one at a time, just until the anesthesia’s fully worn off. Gracie?”
She glanced back at him. “Maybe Jacob should go first.”
Dad turned to him, jaw tight. “I don’t want you upsetting her.”
What was happening? How was he screwing it all up so badly? “I won’t,” he managed to choke out, but he probably would. Because he couldn’t get it together. No matter how hard he squeezed, everything trickled out like sand.
But he took a deep breath and followed Dad to Mom’s room. Dad opened the door, but he didn�
��t step inside, just gestured Jacob in.
Jacob didn’t trust himself to speak, but he did squeeze Dad’s shoulder as he passed. He wasn’t going to upset Mom. He’d done a great job hurting everyone else, but he could handle this. He would handle this.
Mom lay in her hospital bed, eyes closed, her complexion ashen. Everything inside him seized, making moving almost impossible. He could barely breathe. What was he supposed to do?
Because he had the sickening realization that back when he’d been in high school and pretended not to know what had been going on, it had been partially because it was what Mom wanted, but also because...because...
The tears trickled down his cheeks. He couldn’t keep them in check. All those years ago and he’d pretended because he hadn’t wanted to see this. The hard stuff. Pretending was easier and he was a coward.
Mom’s eyes fluttered open, and when her gaze landed on him, her mouth curved into a kind of sympathetic smile. Her guidance counselor, you-poor-thing smile.
Which just proved what an asshole he was.
“Hey, honey.”
“Hey.” He swallowed against the thick lump in his throat, but it didn’t dislodge. Stiffly, he moved to the chair next to her bed. He wiped his face with his sleeve and then took her non-IV hand in his.
Then, because he couldn’t hold on to it, the pain, the fear, the self-disgust, he leaned his forehead against her hand and cried.
“It’s going to be okay.”
“That’s my line for you,” he said in a creaky voice, trying to breathe, center himself, find that control he needed to make things right. To be perfect for her.
“I’m your mother, so it will always be my line to you.”
“Not today.” He sat up, swallowed down the rest of the emotion. He had to get ahold of himself, of this, because she deserved a son who could handle everything. So he looked her in the eye and, even though he didn’t know if it was true, said the words he desperately wanted to believe. “Everything is going to be okay.”
Her eyes filled with tears, but she offered a wobbly smile. “It is. I beat it once. I’ll beat it again.” She tugged her hand out of his, rested her palm against his cheek. “You knew and you didn’t tell anyone all those years ago?”
“You didn’t want me to know.”
“The cooking classes, and you started helping your grandparents out more. You spent less time with friends. I should have known.”
“I didn’t want you to. I wanted you to get better, and you did.”
She let out a shaky breath. “I did. Oh, Jake.” She closed her eyes and sank deeper into the pillows. “I’m not going to lie to you. This sucks so hard.”
Jacob choked out something resembling a laugh.
“And it’s going to keep sucking for a while, but I am alive, and there is that.”
“There is.”
She frowned over at him, looking sleepy but determined. “It’s not a scorecard, you know. You don’t get what you deserve. Didn’t what happened with Grace teach us all that?”
“But—”
“You can’t control the bad, and until you accept that...it’s a hell of a lot harder to deal. I used to worry we’d sheltered you too much, that you just didn’t know what kind of blows life could deliver, but I don’t think that’s it. In a weird way, we taught you to respect doing the right thing too much, to help others too much, because you seem to think you can fix everything. Honey, you can’t.”
“I know that.”
Mom snorted. “Don’t try to B.S. me while I’m lying in a hospital, young man. I don’t have the energy to smack your head.”
“Mom...”
“Be sad. Be scared. It’s okay. Better than trying to make sense of the nonsensical crap life throws our way.” She yawned. “Oh, I’m getting all fuzzy again.”
She kind of drifted out, whether on purpose so he couldn’t argue or more likely from the exhaustion that smudged under her eyes.
Every instinct he had wanted to fight her words, argue with them. Of course he could fix this. If he made sure she got the best care, rested. If he helped out... If he...
But everything sounded desperate and childish in his head with Mom’s words bouncing around in there, too.
But the weird part was, for the first time since he’d gotten the call, he managed a real, full breath.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
LEAH PULLED HER truck into her garage, pushed the gearshift into Park and then stared at the windshield.
She didn’t understand what had happened. She didn’t know what to do. Actually, she was most afraid she did know what to do.
You can’t be with someone like that...
She squeezed her eyes shut against the thought, because now was not the time. There were more important things to deal with. For her, getting her parents sent back to Minnesota tomorrow morning. For him, a lot harder tasks. Emotionally draining. She could not be thinking about herself right now.
She leaned her forehead against the steering wheel, desperately fighting tears. Why wouldn’t he let her help? Why wouldn’t he lean on her? Maybe he had every right to be a dick under the circumstances. Maybe she should just ignore it.
But she couldn’t, because she saw her future with him, and it was uglier than the one she’d already been afraid of. Guilt was one thing, having to worry about whether someone was flying off the handle...calling her stupid...yelling at family...
On a sigh, she forced herself out of the truck and into the house through the mudroom. She could hear the strains of the TV, Dad’s low rumbly laugh. Which for some reason made her think of Mr. McKnight crying.
God, life was cruel, and she didn’t know what to do about that when the man she loved wouldn’t let her in. Walk away, apparently.
Guilt twisted with the sadness. Maybe she should have stayed. Comforted him against his will. But every nasty word, every snap... It just made her think about her future and knowing he couldn’t handle it.
Would he blame her for making bad choices like he had after the Martin job? Would he treat Grace or Mom the way he’d treated her and his dad today?
She stepped into the living room, trying to smile as her mom swerved in her seat, looking sympathetic and hopeful. “Is everything okay?”
“Jacob’s mom got out of surgery and is doing as well as can be expected.”
“You could have stayed, honey. We’re okay, really. And Jacob probably needs you.”
“No, he made it very clear he doesn’t.” That made her chest ache, so she turned away. “I’m just going to take a shower and get all these hospital germs off me.” And maybe the pain and hurt and confusion.
He’s going to be this way with you.
She desperately needed to get rid of that horrible repeating thought, because what had happened tonight wasn’t about her at all.
But someday it will be.
She slammed into the bathroom, flipping the water as hot as she could stand and shedding her clothes in angry jerky movements. Once she stepped into the scalding spray she let herself cry. She wasn’t sure how long it lasted, but she went until she was completely spent. Until the only thing she could think about was crawling into bed and sleeping all night long.
And she would not think about how she’d shared that bed with Jacob the past few nights. She would not think about telling him she loved him and somehow jinxing every damn thing.
“Oh, you idiot,” she muttered to herself, drying off and pulling on sweats.
When she stepped out of the bathroom, Mom was very primly sitting on the little armchair, wrinkling her nose at Leah’s bookshelf.
“There are almost-naked men on these books.”
“There are indeed.” Leah wanted to smile or feel something other than emotional exhaustion, but no such luck. She sank into
her bed, first in a sitting position, and then she went ahead and crawled under the covers. Even when Mom was sitting there, she didn’t have the energy to do anything but lie in bed.
“Tell me what happened. Why you aren’t still there?” Mom rested her arm on Leah’s shoulder.
“He didn’t want me there.”
“Why on earth not?”
Leah shrugged, wishing Mom’s comforting hand would leave, but it didn’t. “I don’t know. He was being...terrible. And maybe he has a right to be. It was a shock, and he was angry and upset, but...I don’t like the way he treated me or his family. I don’t like the way he dealt with it at all. And he pushed me away, so what else was I supposed to do?”
“I’m sorry, honey.”
Leah buried her face in the pillow. She thought she’d gotten ahold of her emotions in the shower, but they were already bubbling back to the surface. Mom stroking her hair as though she was five years old again didn’t help.
She wanted to cry and be told it was going to be all right, but more, she wanted to be able to believe it. Unfortunately, that had become impossible many years ago.
Leah sniffled, moving her head back into a sideways position so she could breathe. “I don’t think I can do it, Mom, knowing that’s how he’d be,” she whispered. The words were...not okay. Not now, but maybe if she said them aloud to someone separate from the situation, they’d stop poking at her brain, haunting her.
“How he’d... You mean, if you were the one in the hospital?”
“When I’m the one in the hospital.”
“You don’t know.... You can’t predict what will happen.”
“The odds of me being in a hospital bed in the next twenty-some years, for whatever reason, serious or not, are pretty high.”
“Okay,” Mom conceded, still brushing her hands over Leah’s hair. “Yes, chances are high.”
“I used to think I’d feel guilty, if someone married me and had to go through that, and I would. I still would. I was willing to maybe...try anyway, but knowing he’d...blame me or hurt everyone in the process? Maybe it’s too much to ask. Maybe it doesn’t exist to find someone who can just...handle it. But I can’t...I can’t add that on, Mom. It’s hard enough being sick—worse knowing the people who love you are arguing themselves to death over it.”
