“Finals week was tough,” I answer. “I had to take it out on something.”
“A cement block?”
I puff out a laugh. Leslie and I have a like/hate relationship. The only thing we ever agreed on was Katie. Somewhere along the way, though, I won Leslie over, and I can’t figure out how. After all the crap I did, I was never good enough for Kate.
“Let’s clean it up and I’ll ask your dad to write up an antibiotic script for you.”
“I appreciate it, Leslie.”
After I’m wrapped up, Leslie, who acts as my supervisor of sorts, gives me the rundown for the day. I’m limited in what the hospital will allow me to do, but I work my ass off and do what I’m asked. Completely unlike how things were before Kate.
Before, I didn’t give a flying fuck and the hospital was the last place I wanted to be. That fact was clear to everyone here. I was an asshole, destroying hospital property, creating more work for the nurses, and doing what I could to make their lives hell. Until Kate, I never gave a patient a backward glance. It was Kate who changed that.
Now, the patients are my biggest reason for coming. None of them deserve to be here fighting for their lives like this. Cancer is the devil, an evil monster that destroys everything in its path.
And all the kids in here have looked him square in the mother-fucking eye and said, “I won’t let you win.”
When I’m finished with what Leslie gave me, I make my way into The Commons for some down time. The room is like a large rec room with sofas, tables, and chairs, a ping-pong table, a seventy-inch television with a Blu-ray, Wii U, and X-box. Windows line one whole side and the adjacent wall has been painted by the kids who’ve spent time here. Anything they wanted to paint or write in whatever colors they choose. It’s a memorial, an inspiration, and a reminder to keep fighting. The patients call it the Hope Wall.
I’ve searched the wall high and low, and I’ve never found Kate’s. I guess she died before she got the chance.
There are two bald little boys playing Mario Kart, faces contorted into competitive mode. Brennan crosses my mind and how I let him win the tournament at his remission party over four years ago. Leslie tells me he’s doing great with a head full of dirty blond hair and has only been back for check-ups.
As I scan the room, I realize the boys aren’t alone. In the far corner, sitting on a pink beanbag and reading a book, is a girl. What strikes me is the long, blonde hair that falls in her face the same way Lia’s did last night. In fact, this girl can’t be more than a few years older than Lia.
I don’t want to approach her, but my feet move toward her anyway. She looks up and studies me.
“Are you a doctor?” she asks, frowning.
I shake my head. “Maybe someday. My dad’s a doctor, though.”
“Is the doctor here your dad?”
“Maybe. There’s a few doctors on this floor.”
She blinks, contemplating my answer. Something stole this child’s joy, and I’m pretty sure I know what since she’s sitting here, in the pediatric oncology ward.
Tears spring in her eyes as she extends an arm to show me the inside of her elbow. Other than the medical tape and cotton balls, I don’t see anything, but I know what she’s going to say next.
“He took a lot of my blood because there might be something wrong with me. I don’t want to be sick for always,” she sobs, her lower lip trembling. “I don’t want to lose my hair.”
Footfalls close behind me make me turn my head. My father stands inside the doorway watching us. I nod at him to let him know I’ll be right there, then I return to the girl.
“Hey, it’ll be okay. Just because your blood might not be all right doesn’t mean there’s something wrong with you. I used to know this girl who was the most beautiful girl inside and out. Even when she lost all her hair. She spent a lot of time in this very room, and you know what she did almost every day?”
The girl shakes her head.
“She wrote in a diary. It was her secret place where she could say anything she wanted, any time she wanted.”
“I’m not very good at writing. Except my name.”
I reach behind her, grab a piece of paper and a box of crayons, and hand them to her. “No, but you can draw, right?”
A small smile forms on her lips. “I like to color.”
“Good. Tomorrow, I’ll bring you your own book and your own crayons, and you can draw pictures about anything you want.”
Her eyes brighten at my offer. “You’re going to make a good doctor someday,” she says.
~*~
The clock in my dad’s office reads four-thirty. Ellie’s and Lia’s plane leaves at six, and they’ll be on their way home, safely away from me.
“What’s her name and what’s wrong with her?” I ask my dad, and he knows I’m referring to the little girl in The Commons.
“You know I can’t—”
“Hypothetically.”
He laughs and takes off his glasses. “Hypothetically, huh?”
“Yeah, tell me a story.”
Dad rubs his chin. “All right, once upon a time there was a six-year-old girl named Olivia. Her parents kept taking her to the doctor for chronic bronchitis. Olivia seemed to be sick more often than she was well. Then she began to complain about frequent stomachaches and that she couldn’t breathe. She lost weight, and when her parents noticed swelling on her belly and under her arms, they rushed her back to clinic. Their family doctor referred the girl to another doctor who specializes in blood cancers. That doctor is keeping her for testing.”
“What does that doctor think is wrong with her?”
“He needs to run a couple more tests, but he’s fairly confident it’s Non-Hodgkin’s Lymphoma.”
“Cancer,” I mumble.
“Cancer.”
I sigh. “What’s her prognosis?”
“I think we caught it early, so good. Very good.”
I lean back against the chair, thinking about how Olivia is only three years older than Lia. How it would kill me if Lia ended up here. They’re so young, only kids. Kids should be—I don’t know—not here.
I stand up and walk over to Dad’s bookshelf. Medical journals line most of the shelves, all except the top two. Those are reserved for old family pictures. There’s one of Liam holding me after I was born. One of Mom and Dad ringing in the new year two years before she died. One of Dad, Liam, and me playing basketball in our driveway.
I don’t reach for any of those though. Instead, I grab the collage of Liam when he volunteered here. It’s littered with pictures of my brother and little bald-headed patients. He’s grinning like an idiot in all of them, but so are the kids. Yeah, my brother’s joy was in helping people.
I’m not ready to tell my father about Lia. Or about Ellie’s return. Still, I’ve always been compared to my saint of a brother, and I need to know if I’m out of my mind.
“We both know that Liam would’ve made a great dad, but do you think I could handle it?” I ask.
“Where did this come from?” Dad asks.
I shrug. “Olivia, I guess.”
Dad gets up and joins me at the bookcase. He peers over my shoulder at the pictures I’m holding.
“Your brother put his heart and soul into everything he did,” he says.
“That’s not helping, Dad.”
“Hear me out. Liam always gave a hundred and ten percent. When he got passionate about something, he drove everything he had into it. And Damian, he was passionate about a lot of stuff. You, however—”
“Am passionate about nothing.”
“No. You’re pickier because giving a hundred and ten percent isn’t enough for you. You see, whereas Liam put his heart and soul into what he did, you wanted to put in more. You’d lay your very life down for that one thing, that one person who was worthy of your love and attention.”
“What if I never find that one thing again?” I ask.
“You found it once, son. You’ll find it again. That
’s what Kate wanted for you, right? To live for something.”
~*~
I have no destination in mind. I just drive, letting the last twenty-four hours roll through my mind.
Ellie.
My daughter.
The whole situation has me tripping. Where did this all come from? Two days ago my life wasn’t complicated. Shitty, yeah, but not complicated. I had school, booze, girls, the cemetery—and guilt and pain.
Now, though? Now it’s like I don’t know who I am.
I hang a left, heading toward the interstate. The city buzzes by as I drive west out of town.
Dylan thinks I’m a coward, and he’s right. I’m scared to death. There’s no way out now that I know Lia exists.
So, what the hell am I supposed to do with that?
I can’t even wrap my mind around the fact that Ellie’s reappeared in my life. And since we have this kid together, where does that put us?
I spent two years with Ellie, doing what I promised Liam—taking care of her. Even though it wasn’t how he would have wanted.
God, this is fucked up.
I think about Olivia. What’s ahead of her after Dad gives her a diagnosis. How young she is, and how easily that could be Lia.
I’m sick to my stomach.
Then I consider what Dad said about me, about Kate, and what she would have wanted. I wonder if getting to know my daughter, letting Ellie go on that once-in-a-lifetime research trip, might be what she would have wanted.
Actually, I know it is. Kate wouldn’t have hesitated.
I know what I have to do.
Chapter 9
Ellie
Lia is wheeling her miniature pink suitcase behind her, and she doesn’t want to hold my hand. The Des Moines airport isn’t busy like Tallahassee, still I’d feel better if I were touching her instead of simply walking beside her.
“At least until we’re in line,” I insist.
Groaning, she juts out her hand. The girl is three and a half going on sixteen. Oh boy am I in trouble.
“Thank you,” I say as she sulks next to me.
My dad and I said our goodbyes at home, and Mom dropped us off at the airport. Dad’s taking a nap and she has to be back before he wakes, so she doesn’t come inside to see us off.
Last night’s conversation with Blake continues to run circles in my mind. His offer sounds good, but…
I don’t know. Lia has never met his sister. Hell, I haven’t, either. I’m sure she’s as great as Blake says—responsible with two kids of her own—but I just don’t think I can leave her with a stranger like that. Besides, the group is leaving for Australia in two days. That’s not enough time for me to drive Lia to Alabama, get to know Blake’s sister on an I-trust-you-with-my-kid-for-two-months level, drive back to Florida, and board a plane across the world.
Granted, until yesterday Lia had never met Damian, either. But he’s her father, for heaven’s sake. That counts for a whole lot more in my opinion.
Plus, I know Damian in both good and bad ways, and I know he’d never purposely do anything to hurt Lia.
Ah. It doesn’t matter. Damian is too irresponsible to take her, and after our visit, I don’t think he wants to even if I did ask. I of all people know how much a child can change your life, and Damian’s lifestyle isn’t exactly childproof.
I’m making the right decision to stay home and find something smaller, closer to home.
The sliding glass doors open, and Lia and I walk through, heading for the American Airlines line to collect our boarding passes and check our luggage—our one extra bag for the both of us that, in hindsight, we could have done without.
Lia tugs her hand out of mine hard. “We’re in line now,” she sasses. She takes a side step away from me too.
There are four people in front of us, and now is not the time for her to make a scene. I crouch down and lower my voice as I speak to her. “What’s wrong, Lia-Kat? We’re going home, back to your friends.”
She puffs out her lip and rolls her pretty blues the way one of my classmates taught her. Great.
“Why isn’t Daddy coming with us?” she retorts.
Not this again. I spent most of the afternoon explaining that we weren’t seeing Damian today, and that he has to stay in Iowa because he goes to school here. She didn’t like my answer, proven by her stomping her feet and storming off.
“He can’t, sweetie. His home is here.”
“But why? Addy’s daddy lives with her. So does Lanie’s daddy,” she says, referring to two of the girls in day care.
I massage my temples in a fruitless attempt to dissuade the oncoming headache. This is not the easiest conversation to have with a three-year-old.
“Addy and Lanie’s mommy and daddy are married, so they live together. Damian and I aren’t.”
“Why not?”
Oh geez.
“Um, well…because…we don’t love each other that way.”
Lia frowns. “Why not?”
This is not a fun game.
“Sweetie, we just don’t.”
“Do you love Blake that way?”
Lia is too bright for her age, though I shouldn’t be surprised. She is Damian’s daughter. I smooth through her hair and tap her little nose. “No, but maybe someday I will.”
She scrunches her face up. “Blake’s okay, I guess.”
I laugh. “I’ll let him know you approve.”
We finally check our one bag, and I slip our boarding passes in my purse. Everything is set. The airport is a little busier since we arrived, and when I take Lia’s hand this time, she doesn’t protest.
She points ahead of us. “Escataters!” she cries out, and I’m glad the earlier conversation seems to have been forgotten.
I giggle because my mom once told me I used to call them “alligators.” At least Lia’s word is closer than mine.
I check my watch. We have forty-five minutes till boarding. At the top of the “escataters” is security, and who knows how long that will take.
“We’d better get moving because the escalators won’t wait forever,” I say, and Lia grins big. “We’re only going up, though. Not up and down and up and down like at the mall.”
Lia heaves a sigh. “Fiiiiiiiine.”
We’re almost there when I hear my name from behind.
“Ellie, wait.”
Anywhere else I wouldn’t have given a thought to it because whoever was calling out probably didn’t want me. But only one person’s voice has the power to rip through me in pain and pleasure, and that’s the one I hear. I turn around.
Seeing him jog toward us doesn’t register. I’m probably hallucinating. It’s the only logical conclusion my brain can come up with. I mean, why else would Damian Lowell be here, at the airport, waving us down after how adamant he was that we leave?
I still don’t believe it, and he’s standing directly in front of me now. Beside me, Lia is beaming at him.
He grins back at her, the dimples in both cheeks reaching the same intensity as his daughter’s.
His expression changes to more serious when he addresses me, though. “Elle, can we talk?”
I suck in a breath and shoot a glance over my shoulder. If we’re going to make our flight, this needs to be a short talk.
“Uh, yeah. For a minute.”
Damian cocks his head to the side, wanting us to follow him. The three of us move out of the flow of ticket-holders surrounding us. Between us, Lia leans her back against the wall, peering up at Damian in awe.
“I know the timing is shitty, Elle, but I want to keep Lia for the summer. You can go on your research project.”
What the hell? Is he serious? One look into his deep blue eyes says he is. It’s just—
“Have you been drinking?” I ask, because it’s the only explanation to this sudden change I can think of.
“What? Elle, no. Look, I’ve thought about this since you two left last night. Just hear me out, okay?”
I study him for a moment
, part of me dying to know what’s in his head and the other part too scared of what he’ll say. And then my emotions will take control of my brain, and I’ll do something stupid—
Which is what happens.
“Fine,” I agree. “Talk.”
“I understand why you did what you did, Elle. I’m not saying it was right, but I get it. I’ve messed up a million times over, I don’t deserve this, and I want to make it up to you.”
“To me?”
Damian hesitates, then he nods. “Yeah, to you.” He rolls the tip of his tongue over his bottom lip and stares at the floor. “And Mom. And Liam…and Kate.”
“Damian, don’t,” I say when I realize where this is going. I want to tell him no one blames him—I don’t blame him—but that opens a whole mess of crap I don’t want to discuss in the middle of an airport.
His gaze lifts to mine. “I’d like to get to know my daughter, Elle.”
The way he says it blows me away. I’ve seen this same quiet, pleading, determination in his eyes before. It’s what happens when he breaks through the pain and becomes the man I fell in love with.
My resolve is beginning to waver.
“Damian, I don’t know. Are you sure you can handle this? I mean, eight weeks is a long time, and Lia can be a handful. What would you do with her while you’re at the hospital?”
Really, this is the least of my concerns. However, if he doesn’t have the little stuff figured out, it saves me the trouble of having to discuss the real issues I have with leaving Lia with him.
“She can come with me, Elle, play with the other kids in The Commons. I’ll have an eye on her all day long.”
I swallow and shift uncomfortably against the wall. “Where’s she going to sleep?”
“I’ll buy one of those girly princess beds and put it in my room.”
My eyes go wide. I open my mouth to object to this, but Damian cuts in, his voice low enough that Lia can’t hear. “No sleepovers with other girls, I swear. I want to make this work.”
“The alcohol?” I ask, my voice as low as his.
“Give me this one chance, Ellie. I won’t fuck it up.”
Love Always, Damian Page 7
