Before I can answer, Griffin screeches to a halt next to us in an electric blue car covered in decals like the Supra. “Hey motherfucker, I brought you a car. Now let that pretty little girl go and get your ass in here so I can spank you all the way around this track.” Griffin’s taunts are loud as he steps out of the idling car and holds his hands out to his sides in competitive invitation.
“You want to ride with me this time, or sit it out while we work out a little sibling rivalry?” Talan asks, massaging my shoulders with his big hands.
I twist a strand of my hair, looking at the pink mix with the blonde. “I think I’ll just sit this one out. I don’t need a heart attack today. Go. Be crazy boys.” I push Talan’s chest with my index finger and smile. He catches my hand and plants a kiss on the back of it before he jogs over and slides into the Nissan. Once he is strapped in, he flips Griffin off and floors the engine, gaining a head start toward the track. Griffin quickly catches him.
I watch as they battle around each turn, throwing the cars sideways and whipping back around with what looks like only inches between them. The clouds of smoke from the burning tires are way larger than I imagined while inside the car. It lends a feeling of illegality to their not-so-friendly race. At least it’s a closed track, and not some neighborhood street. Talan is barely ahead as they slide into the last corner, but Griffin sneaks the inside corner and ends up ahead by a nose as they straighten out. He takes full advantage of his lead and sprints for the Ducati and me. I freeze in fear of one or both of the cars hitting me as they barrel along. I’m about to cover my face and brace for impact when tires screech and Griffin sails around me in a donut with Talan right behind him. I drop my hands and watch as their coordinated display of aggressive automotive perfection is executed. They both bump to a stop and cut the engines.
Griffin leaps from his car whooping. “I schooled you, pussy! If you hadn’t hit the brake like a bitch at that last corner, you might have had a pube hair of a chance at it. Who is the king, the drift king?”
“I’m rusty, it’s been a while,” Talan hollers back as he gets out of the car. “Besides, drifting isn’t about who finishes first—it’s about style, and you’ve got a lot to learn, little brother. But this excessive display of sore winning is why you went into professional racing, and I went to school.” Talan shakes his head at Griffin, still peacocking around his car, slinging insults and proclaiming himself the king. “Sorry, he gets a little worked up when he races,” Talan says to me. “He’ll simmer down here soon. Until then, would you like to drive? It’s way more fun than riding along.”
“Oh, no way in hell. I would wreck those cars. I also can’t drive stick very well. I would probably break it.”
“Suit yourself. You won’t have very many chances to get on a professional racecourse in a professional drift car. That 350Z is just as badass as the Supra, even though Griffin is partial to his baby.”
“Are these his cars?”
“Sort of. Griffin drives for a team that has a few cars, but yes, he owns this car and started the build years ago, even if the team pays for it now. They tour the country competing in drift races and contests. He used to race in other circuits like rallycross when he’s wasn’t drifting, but now that he has his Pro license, he has to focus more on the American Drift League.”
This is a whole new world for me. I thought there was just NASCAR racing, and here I see there’s way more. “You’re not too bad of a driver yourself. How did you both learn to drift and start racing like that?”
“Our dad owned a shop, so cars are in our blood. He built super cars and tuned for max performance. Griff and I both started racing when we were sixteen, but Griffin was better. Just don’t tell him I said that.” Talan places his finger in front of his lips as he looks toward Griffin. “I prefer motorcycles anyway, but it’s not like I want to race them. I didn’t want to just be a grease monkey in my dad’s shop or a gearhead out on a racecourse, so I headed to college. I actually first considered becoming an engineer because I wanted to help him develop better electrical systems and work on tuning the cars he built. Later, I saw how much more I could do with the degrees, and the desire to work in the shop dwindled.” Talan brushes his short hair off his forehead, gazing over at the bays where Griffin has just parked the Supra.
“Is your dad still running the shop, or does he help Griffin with his races?” I hope he’ll continue opening up about himself. I love learning more about him. I should have done this sooner, but my brain seems to take a vacation and my body takes control whenever he’s around.
Talan looks over at me, his eyes full of a newly revealed sadness. I don’t like the way it makes me feel to see this raw emotion on him. The thought that I would move mountains to remove it tells me I’m in deeper with him than I am admitting to myself.
“My dad died seven years ago, when I was nineteen. My family lost the shop to his business partner because I didn’t want to drop out of school, and Griffin was too young to take over the shop in his place.”
My heart pangs for his loss. “Was he in a car accident?” I'm not sure why my brain immediately comes up with this demise. Maybe because of his affiliation with cars.
“No, he had a heart attack. It was sudden and quite unexpected. He had been in decent health. You just never know when you will lose someone.”
“Oh, I’m so sorry.” Words. They are stupid words that can’t possibly tell him exactly how sad this makes me for him.
I reach out and squeeze Talan’s hand in comfort. He returns the gesture, spinning me under his arm and against his chest so we are both watching Griffin walk toward us from the bays. I think about my own mom, wasting away with cancer eating her lungs. At least she knows what’s coming and is at peace with it. I realize now that there are worse things than counting down the days until you die. A sudden death doesn’t give you the time to appreciate your loved ones and make sure you have no regrets before they depart. I never thought I would find something to appreciate about my mom’s cancer diagnosis. Talan allows my introspection, kissing my cheek softly and resting his head against mine. I sigh and snuggle back into him, loving how his arms instantly tighten around me in response.
“It’s kind of nice being held by you.” I shut my eyes tightly, cringing when the unguarded honesty of my words have registered with my brain. That’s not really what I want to be saying to encourage Talan.
“Kind of nice? You flatter me,” he deadpans, making me smile in relief. “I’m glad you don’t seem to mind right now. You know, you are kind of hard to read.”
“How so?” I look back at him over my shoulder, curious where this is coming from.
“Sometimes you seem to really want me, like when I’m touching you.” He runs his palm along my side, tracing my curves and lightly palming my breast until I push back into his hand. “While other times you are reserved and pull away like you hate the idea of liking me.” He releases me from his grasp and I float unsteadily in the loss of his touch. “I don't admit it often, but you have sort of thrown me off my game here, Bliss.”
I laugh. “You’re running game on me Talan? Maybe I’m not responding how you hoped because I was unaware of this. I thought, just maybe, you were actually interested in me.”
“I’m more than interested, Bliss. Can’t you feel my interest?” He grinds his interest into my ass. I arch my back and press harder against him in automatic response. Damn it. He elicits such a physical response from my body, even when I would rather keep it in check. Talan groans in my ear. “Careful, baby, I have no problem taking you up on that invitation.”
My breath hitches as my desire blooms, heat pulsing low in my body. Looks like I would more than like him to make good on that.
“I thought I told you two to get a room,” Griffin says, stopping in front of us with his arms crossed over his chest and a scowl on his face. “Bliss, honey, if this guy ever does you wrong, you know the hotter brother is always here to take care of you.” Griffin winks at me as he
flips Talan off.
We all laugh easily, but Talan holds me tighter. It seems he is not a fan of his brother hitting on me. I wonder if that’s a reaction he would give to any guy, or just Griffin?
Hearing my phone vibrating in my purse nearby distracts me. I walk over to the Ducati and pull it out to see I have five missed calls and three voicemails from phone numbers I don’t know. Wondering what could be the issue, I look over my shoulder and make sure Talan and Griffin are in a conversation before I listen to my voicemails. Fear ices my veins, shutting out the warm sun with the cold front that moves in as I listen to the urgent messages. My hands shake as I end the playback and drop my phone into my bag.
“Talan—” Before I can finish calling him, he is in front of me, taking my hands in his.
“What is it Bliss? You’re shaking and white as a ghost.”
“It’s my mom, she was admitted to the hospital a few minutes ago after an ambulance brought her in. I’m her emergency contact, so they have been trying to get a hold of me to give them the go ahead for emergency surgery. I have to go to the hospital, right now.”
“Yes of course you do. I’ll take you.” The assured quality of his voice is laced with a fear that matches my own.
“Thank you so much for the ride, Griffin. It was scary as hell, but really incredible. I hope you do well at your race this weekend, and I’m sorry to run off like this.”
“It was great meeting you Bliss, and I’m sorry about your mom. I hope things are okay. You can get pit passes to the race if you want them. Just ask Talan and I’ll make sure they are available for you. Anyone who can manage not to make a peep while I do my damnedest to get a reaction in the car is a badass chick in my book. Respect, little girl.”
He holds his fist out for me to pound. I meet his outstretched fist with my own, giving him a little jazz hand explosion after.
“She’s cool, bro. Don't fuck this up.” The warning in his voice is incredibly serious, but I have other things to worry about than some backstory I’m probably missing.
I grab my phone and dial the hospital as Talan lets me go long enough to engage in a man-hug with Griffin and say his goodbyes. While waiting to get through, I realize that despite having a friendly rivalry, they seem to get along well enough. It’s times like these I wonder what having a sibling would have been like. There would have been someone to share the burden of my mom’s cancer with on days like this when I feel like I’m drowning. I would have one other person who knew what it was like, exactly, to struggle with her impending death that I could talk to without pity lacing their every condolence.
When the hospital answers, I tell them about my voicemails and they transfer me to the proper extension. I give my okay for surgery, but have no clue what they have said was wrong. Worse case scenarios and visions of funerals fill my head. My mom is dying.
I follow Talan to the Ducati, strapping my helmet back on and climbing up behind him. This trip, I manage to look around at my surroundings easily, but I can’t enjoy the rushing of the warm wind and the feel of the very solid midsection I have wrapped in my arms. I’m too preoccupied with my thoughts and worrying about my mom. Talan chalks up an impressive number of potential moving violations as he aggressively disobeys posted speed limits to get me to my mom quicker. Even if he is being reckless, I love him for making this a priority and wanting to help.
I’m very much in trouble when it comes to Talan. I can tell there’s no stopping the attraction I feel, and it doesn’t seem like he would let me very easily. For now, I simply cling to his warm strength. I hope he can help keep my head above water as this tidal wave of futility and sadness overwhelms me.
Chapter Thirteen
The hospital is a frustrating labyrinth of corridors and people who can’t seem to help me. Once I finally figure out what wing and floor my mom is on, Talan and I rush to find her. The small waiting area of the surgery department is empty when I tell the nurse at a desk why I am there.
“Oh sweetie, I’m glad you could get here,” the older woman tells me. “Just wait right here while I grab the doctor.”
I wait anxiously at the desk while Talan stands behind me with his hands on my shoulders. He provides a needed steadying presence that keeps me from dissolving into hysterical tears from all of the unknowns. Is my mom in a lot of pain? Will this hospital stay turn into her final home? The nurse returns with a female doctor in her mid to late forties a short time later.
“Hi, I’m Dr. Avery. I’m handling your mom’s case until Dr. Ong can make it to the hospital.”
She flips through files on the desk until she finds my mother’s. Opening it, she purses her lips. “It looks like your mom was having trouble breathing, and may have passed out. She called an ambulance and was brought in for a CT scan and chest x-ray that showed a malignant pleural effusion.”
“I got that much off my phone call, but I don't know what it means.” I pick at the ends of my hair, twisting and making knots. Medical terms go right over my head. She seems to understand and looks at me gently.
“Your mom has fluid buildup in her chest cavity. She had to have the fluid drained, but there’s too much to keep using a needle, so she is having a tube inserted in her chest to allow the fluid to drain. We’ll observe her overnight to make sure it doesn’t get worse.”
“Is this common? What if there is more fluid? Will she have to stay in the hospital forever?” I feel so stupid¸ not having taken the time to really research my mom’s lung cancer. I might have known to expect something like this if I had. Maybe if I had focused more on understanding her cancer and what she really needed, this might not have happened. Instead, I was getting swept up in Talan.
“We will see if the fluid returns tomorrow and determine what needs to be done next. She may need to have a catheter inserted into the pleural cavity to manage the fluid temporarily so she can leave the hospital. It is quite common with metastatic cancers like your mom’s, but you never know when or if it will hit.”
“Okay, thank you. Will you let me know when I can see her, please?”
“Absolutely. Hang in there, Bliss. We’re doing our best to take care of this and make her comfortable. Without chemotherapy to shrink her tumors, there’s not much we can do to prevent the effusions.”
I nod sadly and settle heavily into a chair to wait. My heart thuds painfully in my chest as my brain berates me for having fun while my mom struggled to breathe, drowning from the inside out. It’s not fair that she is in so much pain and having her life come to an end as mine is barely beginning. I wanted to share with her all of the milestones I still have to hit. I wanted to make her a grandma someday. She loves babies so much and is the most nurturing person I’ve ever met. Now I know that if I ever have babies, they will miss out on knowing the person who would have loved them the most.
I can’t help the tears that blur my vision and the sobs that suck the air from my lungs. Talan’s strong hands grab me as I slump to the ground, placing me on his lap and holding my head against his chest. My tears and snot soak his t-shirt and I can’t even find it in me to be embarrassed. He gently rocks me and rubs comforting circles on my back.
Once I’ve managed to calm down and control my tears, I push away from his chest and sit up. “You don’t have to stay with me. This is so depressing and such a waste of time for you. I’ll be fine, really.”
“What makes you think this is a waste of time? I just wanted to spend more time with you, and I don’t care how I get it. Besides, what kind of man would I be to leave a woman in tears alone at the hospital?”
“You would be a sensible man. I’m a mess, and it’s not your responsibility to clean up. You should really just go.” I crawl off his lap and into my own chair. I’m finding my sorrow replaced by an anger I can’t quite place. I’m mad at Talan for being so nice. I’m mad at myself for letting him. I’m mad at cancer for trying to take my mom away faster than I had already come to terms with.
“Did I do something wrong, Bliss?” Ther
e is a hint of anger lacing his normally calm voice. “I’m just trying my best to be here for you. I know what it’s like to lose a parent, and I know you’re going through a lot right now. Let me help you.”
“You have no fucking clue what I’m going through.” I startle myself with the ferocity in my voice. Now that I’ve uncorked this anger, it wants nothing more than to consume me and spew venom on everything around me. “My mom is the only family I have. I don't have another parent, or a brother, or anyone else to hold on to. I have to sit here and feel powerless to change any of this shit. I’m fucking helpless, and there is nothing you, or the doctors, or even my mom can do about it. She’s dying a horrible, painful death and I just have to watch it happen.” I hiccup as sobs wrack my body once again. I clutch my stomach as I collapse onto myself, unable to stop the torrent of tears and the soul-crushing weight of this burden.
Talan sits tense and silent next to me. He doesn’t offer his reassuring back rubs or encouraging words to make me feel better. He crosses his arms and leans back in his chair, toeing off his boots and getting comfortable. I eye him in frustrated amazement.
“What are you doing? I asked you to leave. Put your shoes back on.”
“No.”
“What do you mean, no? You can’t just stay when someone asks you to go. Leave.” I push against his chest roughly, my voice hoarse and splintered.
Talan absorbs my futile shoves and relaxes further into his chair. “Actually, I can stay. And I will. You see Bliss, people have this thing called free will, which means they can do what they want. I choose to stay and be with you, as long as you may need me to. Even if you don’t want me here.”
“You stubborn asshole.” I wipe my eyes in exasperation. “I’m not worth it, Talan. I’m angry and pathetic and I definitely don’t need you here.”
“That’s where you’re wrong. I may be a stubborn asshole, but you are worth it and you are not pathetic. You’re grieving.”
A Taste of Bliss Page 10
