Ms. Harold was a petite woman in her early thirties with black-as-night hair that had highlights of subtle blues. She handed me a cup of coffee before she sat down at the kitchen table with me.
“You have a beautiful home.” Her kitchen was quaint and open with no big island like my house or the Maxwells. Her appliances were white, not the usual stainless steel that I was used to seeing in homes.
She sipped her coffee. “Thank you.”
I had so many questions as I tried not to stare at her breasts. Ms. Franklin, the genetic counselor, hadn’t shared much about Ms. Harold’s case. I only knew Ms. Harold had been through what I was going through now.
She set down her cup. “I can see you’re having a hard time with making a decision,” Ms. Harold said in a dainty voice.
I knitted my eyebrows until I realized my knee was bouncing up and down. “I keep going back and forth. I want the surgery. Then I don’t. Am I making the right move? Will I develop breast cancer just because I have a gene that says I have a high chance?”
She gave me a warm smile. “The big one for me was I won’t feel like a woman anymore.”
I nodded. “Exactly. How did you make your decision?”
She glanced down at her breasts then at me. “I’m not saying it was an easy decision. But in the end, I didn’t want to end up like my mom, and I wasn’t about to wait to see if the statistics would prove otherwise.”
I couldn’t tell from looking at her breasts if they were real or not, and that alone gave me some reassurance that my outer appearance might not change so much.
“My mom has been gone now for four years,” I said. “I’m only twenty-five. I want a family too, and I want someone to love me no matter what. All that makes my decision difficult. I really don’t know what to do.” I definitely didn’t want to go through what my mom had endured. I also wanted to live a healthy life.
She held the coffee cup in her hands as she gazed out her bay window that overlooked her backyard. “Everything you’re feeling is normal. God knows I had the same struggles.”
“Forgive me for asking personal questions, but are you in a relationship or married?” I didn’t see a ring on her finger. “I guess what I’m asking is how do you feel when you get intimate with someone?”
She smiled. “I have implants. I can’t feel any nipple sensation, but being intimate isn’t all about breasts. Regardless, I’m not in a steady relationship. I thought my boyfriend at the time would support me, but he didn’t.” A cloud of sadness washed over her. “Which told me he wasn’t the right man for me. Are you in a relationship?”
I glanced down at the coffee I wasn’t drinking as Kody popped into my head. “Not really. I do like someone, but I’m not sure it’s fair to start anything serious with him.”
“Does he know?”
I shook my head. “I found out about my DNA results on the day I met him. Actually, his niece found me crying my eyes out in the hospital cafeteria. Since then, we’ve had sex. It’s complicated with him. He has his own issues he’s dealing with.”
“Just be honest with him.”
Kody at least deserved to know why I’d been crying. I couldn’t let him believe Mack was the reason I’d been in the dumps.
“Ms. Harold?” I asked.
“Please call me Linda.”
“Linda, if you had to make the decision again, would it be the same one?” I took a large gulp of coffee as gold streams of light filtered in through the bay window.
She shifted in her seat. “I go back through the pros and cons. I didn’t have to rush into the surgery. But honestly, I’m not sure. I have days that I wish I wouldn’t have had the surgery. I have days when I read or hear about more and more women having breast cancer, and I thank God that I don’t have to worry about that anymore. It’s a tough decision. It’s one only you can make. Don’t let a man or a family member or a friend push you into something you’re not ready to do. You don’t have to make any choices right now. But I will suggest that you do get a mammogram done. Get that baseline.”
I’d already made the appointment, which was scheduled in two weeks.
“What makes you wish you didn’t have the surgery?”
She rubbed the rim of her cup. “Sometimes I miss feeling my real breasts. Also, I always wanted to breastfeed when I had kids.”
It was freeing to listen to her story. She made me feel that no matter what I decided, I wasn’t the only one who had faced or was facing a tough road.
A contemplative silence ticked by.
I hauled myself to my feet. “I should go.”
She gracefully stood. “My parting advice is not to rush into a decision. When you do finally come to one, make sure you’re doing it for you and no one else.”
That was the second time she had recommended not to let anyone else influence my decision, leading me to believe that maybe she regretted what she’d done a little more than she was willing to admit.
I couldn’t help but think of what Roxanne had said, which was along the same lines. “Wait two or three years. Get your mammogram regularly and check yourself daily. That way, you have time to breathe.” Boy, it was difficult not to think that my chances of developing breast cancer were high.
After she walked me to the door, we exchanged a hug.
“You have my number now,” she said. “Call or email me anytime.”
Five minutes later when I was on the road, I replayed our conversation, trying to decipher if I felt any differently or if I was ready to make my own decision. But aside from feeling as though I wasn’t alone, I couldn’t have said that I would call my doctor the next day and set up the surgery.
I should let myself breathe and stop agonizing over that freaking mutated gene. I had to stop worrying that I would wake up tomorrow and find a lump in my breast. But that was my problem. I would always worry the day would come when I would find a lump. You’re ahead of the game. You’re doing all the right things. You’re doing your research. You’ve talked to a genetic counselor. You’ve talked to a psychiatrist. You’ve talked with a person who has been in your shoes. One day at a time. You can’t rush making your decision. It’s a big-ass one to make.
Cars passed in the opposite direction. I slowed when the vehicle in front of me flicked on its blinker.
My mom had always said that it was best to concentrate on other things rather than the problem at hand. She’d believed that taking her mind off the problem would give her the answers. It was time I tried her advice. Besides, I had some outstanding items that needed my attention. I owed Kody an apology and the truth. Maybe then, he would firmly believe that I wasn’t wallowing over Mack. I had my mammogram in two weeks, and then I would deal with telling Lowell. That way, I could present Lowell with all the facts, including that my mammogram tests were negative. If I told him before then, he would stress until he knew I was clear, and I didn’t want him ending up in the emergency room again. In between all that, I might have to sing again. Mr. Robinson had informed me before I’d left his house the other day that he would let me know in a week or so what the next steps would be.
Just thinking about my voice on the radio made me giddy. Maybe a silver lining existed in all this. I could get Lowell and me out of debt and put money away for that rainy day and my surgery, and that was most important to me at the moment.
Chapter 20
Kody
The minute Kade and I got out of my truck at Jessie’s shop, my blood boiled to a scalding-hot temperature when I laid eyes on Donovan. He was working on a motorcycle and had his back to us. Lowell was watching Mack and pointing at the engine until Kade slammed the truck’s door.
My brother was just as furious as me. He’d called me that morning to find out if Donovan had returned to the house to pick up his motorcycle and apologize to our mom. When I’d told him no and that I was heading over to Jessie’s shop for the third time that week to find Donovan, he’d jumped in his car and sped home from Boston.
“We’re about to s
ettle this once and for all,” Kade said, his tone deadly. “We’ve given him enough time to sleep on what he did. That fucker owes Mom an apology.”
No argument from me. Almost a week had passed. I’d hoped that Donovan would’ve stopped by my house to collect his Harley, at least—the same one I wanted to take a hammer to. But my old man had other ideas. Since he had a thing for Harleys, he’d been tinkering with the engine, even taking it for a spin. He’d asked me several times to get in touch with Donovan and ask him to come and get his motorcycle.
As much as the anger in me was boiling, I did let out a sigh when I didn’t spot Jessie’s car anywhere nearby. I’d been mulling over what I would say to her. I knew she wasn’t going to be cheering me on when I got in Donovan’s face, which was one of the reasons I’d wanted to keep things professional with her. Although that was hard as fuck. When I’d seen her at Mr. Robinson’s house, my body had gone all tingly and shit, even more so when she’d sung the lyrics I’d written with her in mind. Hell if I didn’t want to fight for her. I wanted to do more than fight. I wanted to wrap my arms around her and tell her she was the woman for me. But I couldn’t do that unless I got past my vengeful nature that had been simmering in my veins for years.
We stalked down the blacktop. “Bro, we’re here to ask Donovan to apologize to Mom.” I’d promised my mom I wouldn’t do anything that would lead to bloodshed, which was getting harder to uphold. I was thankful that Kelton and Kross were busy with other life things. Otherwise, things could have gotten ugly, or uglier.
“Fuck asking,” Kade said with his fists at his sides.
Halfway down the driveway, I swung my arm out and jumped in front of him. A furious Kade would only lead to something far more than cuts and bruises. “Take a breath. We’ll talk to him. If he throws the first punch, then I won’t stop you or me from defending ourselves.”
Kade clenched his jaw.
I slid to his side as we continued down to Donovan and Lowell.
Lowell rode out in his wheelchair to meet us. “Hi.” His brown eyes assessed Kade then me. “I told you yesterday, Kody, that I didn’t want any trouble. I still don’t.”
“We just want to talk to Donovan,” I said.
Lowell’s expression turned dark. “Like hell you do.”
Donovan’s nostrils flared wide as he worked on the motorcycle.
Kade blew past Lowell and into the garage. Donovan shot to his feet with a wrench in his hand.
I flew up to my brother, slid in between Donovan and Kade, then pushed Kade back a few feet.
Lowell wheeled in. “Come on, guys. Fighting isn’t going to solve anyone’s problems.”
Maybe not, but I would feel exhilaration when I rammed my fists into Donovan’s gut or kicked him in the ribs like he had done to me in high school.
Donovan bared his teeth at me. “I should’ve finished you when I had the chance.”
Wrench or no wrench, he and I would settle our feud once and for all. But instead of getting in his face, I growled like an animal, tensing every muscle in my body, hoping he would strike first. That way, I wouldn’t feel so bad breaking my promise to my mom. You would piss off Jessie, though. For the moment, I took comfort in knowing she wasn’t there.
Donovan’s features tightened, his dark eyes forming into slits as his knuckles whitened around the wrench.
We were at a standoff with Kade and me glaring at Donovan.
Lowell’s voice broke that thread that connected the three of us. “Mack, I’m guessing you didn’t call Kody like I asked you to.”
I took a step back as I continued to think of Jessie. I didn’t want to disappoint her any more than I wanted to disappoint my mom.
Kade grabbed the back of his shoulder, a sign my brother was doing everything in his power not to kick the fuck out of Donovan.
Donovan spit. “I don’t owe them anything.”
Fucking wrong thing to say.
Kade lunged at Donovan, stopping a half inch from his face.
Any spectator witnessing the scene that was about to go down would have bet on Donovan winning. The dude was massive and had that tattoo, body-piercing persona that screamed he could crush a person in two seconds flat. But I knew my brother. I knew that when he was angry, his strength far outweighed any man larger than him. I’d seen him in action with Kross, and Kross was broader in the chest than Kade. Sure, Kross had quick reflexes for a boxer, but when Kade and Kross sparred in the ring, Kade was the better fighter.
Kade breathed fire at Donovan. “Either you make a point to visit my mother and tell her you’re sorry for practically throwing her to the ground, or I will make certain you are laid up in a hospital for quite a long time.”
Donovan stuck out his chest, almost pushing Kade backward. “You’re still the asshole that you were in high school. You’re still fighting his battles.” He stabbed a finger at me. “All of you talk a big game, but you’ll never act on anything.”
He must’ve forgotten that Kross and I put Sullivan in the hospital.
“Guys,” Lowell’s voice was lethal. “Back the fuck off each other.”
In a flash, Kade’s fist connected with Donovan’s nose. A bone cracked, and blood oozed out.
Donovan raised his hand, ready to swing that wrench at Kade’s head. I jumped and shoved Kade out of the way. When I did, the wrench hit my ear. I saw stars, bright ones, as pain ricocheted down my neck.
“Fuck,” Lowell said.
Suddenly, something far greater than rage overpowered the pain as that night so long ago came roaring back faster than a shooting comet. Every ounce of revenge I had in me was closed into my fists, ready to unleash a power that I hadn’t felt since I’d beaten the crap out of Greg Sullivan.
I tackled Donovan, and the metal tool clanged to the cement floor. We rolled around, punching each other, grunting, until he pinned me down, his weight anchoring my back to the ground. I tried to kick up and pull my arms free, but the dude was strong.
His fat knuckles were inches from my face, when a loud female voice screamed, “Mack!”
We stared at each other while Jessie continued to shriek at both of us.
Donovan scrambled to his feet, pulling on his hair.
I briefly closed my eyes and stilled.
Fuck.
I hadn’t wanted Jessie to see me lose my shit again. I needed to leave. Being there only served to raise the dead—that dead being Mandy. I was spiraling back to the past. Hell, I was living in the past. Yeah, it was definitely time to talk to a professional again, or my old man.
Kade extended his hand, hauling me to my feet.
“What the hell is going on?” Jessie asked with rage pouring off her as she stood with her hands on her hips, just inside the shop, next to her brother.
I brushed off my clothes and my pride. “Nothing.”
“Nothing my ass,” she said in her sexy voice that had a way of quieting my temper. She whirled on Donovan. “I take it you didn’t make an effort to visit their mom.”
Donovan jutted out his chin. “You’re siding with these bozos? We have history together, Jess. I’m part of your family.”
She pointed a finger at him. “Yes, you’re family to Lowell and me, but the fact still remains you need to apologize to their mom. That’s what adults do. We’re not in high school anymore.” She swung her gaze to me. “And you, Kody. The next time you show up, looking for a fight with Mack, I’ll call the cops. I don’t have time for schoolyard brawls, and neither does Lowell.”
I almost said there wouldn’t be a next time because I couldn’t tolerate seeing Donovan in the same room as her. I couldn’t hear that she considered Donovan family, and if he were going to be in her life in any capacity, then I was certainly not taking that road to get serious with her.
I only had one major problem—my fucking heart. The more I saw Jessie, even from afar, the more I wanted her in my life. I wanted to be the guy who made her big brown eyes light up when I walked into a room. I wanted to be the one
who snuggled with her at night and kissed her when she woke up in the morning. But Jessie and I would never be anything more than friends unless I could close the door to the past.
“Did you hear me?” Jessie’s voice quieted the war in my head.
Her arms were crossed over her large breasts. Her tricolored hair spilled down her back, and her eyes were filled with something greater than anger, as though a storm brewed deep within her and she’d finally decided to open the gates. Her body language said, “Fuck with me, and I’ll fuck with you.” Her feistiness was a nice change from seeing her in tears.
Regardless, mad or not, the woman was downright beautiful. Suddenly, the tension I’d harbored changed course, morphing into awe and regret and so much more. I would gladly take whatever it was she wanted to set free or let her use me as her punching bag. After all, I deserved it.
“I’m sorry, Jess,” I said. Then I nailed a hard look on Donovan, hoping he would get the message that it was okay to admit when you’d done something wrong. It didn’t make me less of a person.
“Kody,” Kade said. “Let’s get out of here. No amount of anything will convince Donovan to apologize to Mom.”
Lowell cleared his throat as he wheeled closer to Mack. “You’re a great friend, but do the right thing.”
A muscle jumped along Donovan’s jaw. “Or what?”
“Or don’t bother showing up for work tomorrow,” Lowell said.
Kade and I exchanged surprised looks.
“You’re siding with them?” Mack asked in horror. “After all these years and all the help I’ve been to you, bro, you want to play that card?”
“What would you have done if the tables were turned and Kody shoved your mom or even my mom?” Lowell asked evenly. “If my mom were here, she would be counseling you the same.” His tone dropped. “I’m not taking anyone’s side, either. Mrs. Maxwell was just trying to help your drunken ass last Sunday.”
Jessie laid a hand on her brother’s shoulder.
Donovan stalked up to them, blood caking under his nose. “Family is supposed to stick together.” Then he marched out to his SUV.
Dare to Live Page 18
