“Not long enough,” Katie choked out.
“Too long,” her father countered.
“But what if—”
“What if, nothing,” Webs cut in. “The tumor has to come out. From what you’ve told us, they’re going to try to shrink it first with the radiation and lower the risk of complications.”
“Which are rare,” I added. “Less than two percent, so you have a ninety-eight percent chance that everything will be perfectly fine with your vocal chords after the surgery is complete and you have time to heal.”
Katie turned her head to look up at me, mountains of hurt forming tears in her eyes. “You’re supposed to have my back on this.”
“I do have your back.” Which meant I would do everything in my power, including gang up on her with her parents, to make sure she had the best chance at living. She could be mad at me all she wanted, but I wasn’t going to budge on this. Katie was too important for anything less. “You remember what you promised me?” I asked, dropping my voice so her parents wouldn’t overhear.
She pressed her lips into a thin line instead of answering.
“You promised you would fight with all you had,” I reminded her, “and I promised I would do everything I could to make sure you came out of this on the other end. I meant it. Did you?”
This time, she glared at me, but there was some heat behind it. It was a bit of the fight she would need to get through this, I hoped, and not just Katie putting up her back and digging in her heels.
Webs straightened himself, taking his feet off the ottoman and setting them on the floor. He bent over his knees, his fingers laced together, and met Katie’s eyes. “All surgeries come with risks. The risk of leaving the cancer in there is so much higher, though, baby girl.”
She turned to face her parents again, extracting herself from my arms. “I don’t want the surgery. I’ll do the radiation and the chemo, all of that. I’ll do it as many times and for as long as it takes, but I don’t want the surgery. Maybe we can shrink the tumor enough that it just disappears.”
That seemed like a huge leap to me, but she was holding on to the idea with both hands, not letting go.
“I can’t— I can’t lose that part of myself.”
“You can if it means you’ll live,” Laura said.
“What kind of life will it be if I can’t do the things I love?”
My gut twisted at the anguish in her voice. I pressed my thumb and fingers to my temples, trying to imagine a future in which Katie couldn’t sing. Just the thought of it was as bad as a future without hockey for me.
But a life without Katie was so much infinitely worse that it was unfathomable.
“It would still be a life,” I argued.
For what felt like an eternity, Katie didn’t say anything. She looked from one of us to another, seemingly searching for an ally to support her argument. But we were her allies. We were on her side.
She just couldn’t see it.
“Well, there’s time before we have to worry about it,” Laura said. She got up and took her half-full bottle of wine and all the glasses back to the kitchen, putting the kibosh on the rest of the discussion. “I’m going to start dinner,” she called out from the kitchen sink. “Jamie, will you stay?”
Webs nodded at me. Whatever he thought was going on between me and Katie, he was on board with it. Laura was, too, but she had always been agreeable. I angled my head so I could see Katie. She was so mad she might as well have been fuming like a cartoon character with smoke coming out of her ears. I supposed that meant she wasn’t quite as amenable to the idea of me staying as her parents were.
“Yeah, I’ll stay,” I said loud enough for Laura to hear but never taking my eyes off Katie. “Thanks, Laura.”
If looks could kill…
There wasn’t a doubt in my mind that the three of us—her parents and I—were in agreement with Katie’s doctors. She needed the surgery. The tumor had to go, even if it meant that she couldn’t sing anymore. The benefits far outweighed the risks.
Now we just had to convince Katie.
She’d found a bit of scrappy attitude, at least, which she was definitely going to need for the battle that lay ahead of her. I just wished her visual daggers weren’t all aimed squarely at me.
Fear is an ugly thing. It eats at you from the inside, gnawing away organ and muscle and bone, leaving nothing but skin behind, the shell of the person who’d previously inhabited it. Fear makes you do things you would never do under normal circumstances, makes you say things you don’t mean, makes you lash out like a wounded animal.
Right now, it was coming at me from multiple directions.
I didn’t want to die. Absolutely. Did. Not. Want. To die. But I also couldn’t bear the thought of no longer being able to do what I’d been born to do. Yes, I had decided to walk away from Hollywood, but that was the sort of decision I could change my mind about at any moment, should the right opportunity present itself. I didn’t think I would ever go back and act again, but that didn’t mean I ought to close the door completely.
Acting had never been my true love. It was just one of those things that I could do in addition to singing. All through the years when I was a kid, I’d done musical theater because it kept me busy all the time. When I’d first gone to LA, I’d tried to convince Derek that singing was where my heart was, that it was what I wanted to devote myself to, but he’d convinced me his plan was better for my career in the long run. There’s this show, he’d told me. Like Glee or Fame, acting, but also lots of singing and dancing. You can make use of all your skills at once, and if it takes off like I think it will, it’ll pay you better and open more doors for you.
He’d been right about the show taking off and it opening doors for me. And maybe, if what I’d truly been after were fame and fortune, starring in The Cool Kids would have been worth it. But it had come at a great cost, too. It had introduced me to Jesse Carmichael and his crowd, who had introduced me to drugs and partying and the uglier side of fame. It had put Beau Brunetti into my path, a man who had been silky and seductive, trapping me into thinking he cared for me as much as he cared for the image we presented to the world. A man who had introduced me to the sorts of depravities I wished I could burn from my mind. There was no erasing these things from my past, but I could damn well keep them from being part of my future.
If I was going to have a future at all.
I wanted one. I didn’t just want any old future, either, but one with Jamie. I’d probably always loved him, from the moment I’d first met him, but other things I’d thought I wanted had proven to be far different from what they’d been in my dreams. Maybe I was incapable of knowing what I truly wanted. Maybe I didn’t understand myself well enough to make these kinds of decisions about my life. That was yet another fear that was closing in on me, squeezing the life out of me. What if it was just a ginormous gaffe, another one to add to the long string of errors in judgment I’d already made? But it was Jamie, so could it really be as bad as all that?
All of these fears kept growing and expanding, overwhelming me with their intensity and mass. They made me feel small and inconsequential. Like I was sinking in quicksand, and darkness was surrounding me, enclosing me. Suffocating me. I didn’t know how to climb out of it. I didn’t know if I would ever be free from the memories of the massive blunders I’d made over the years in the name of furthering my career.
All of this was racing through my head as I cleaned up after dinner. Jamie had offered to help, but I’d waved him away and told him to stay with my parents, preferring to have a few moments to myself. The monotony of rinsing plates and putting them in the dishwasher was a perfect escape, allowing me to sort through the uncomfortable reality my life had become.
I added some detergent to the washer and set it to run, then put some soap on a wet cloth to wipe down the stove and counters, nearing the end of my peace and quiet. For a moment, I debated cleaning the fridge or the oven, just to prolong my respite, but Jami
e walked in before I could start on either of those projects.
“Hey,” he said gently.
I glanced up, brushing my hair behind my ear, to find him leaning his hip and shoulder against the doorframe and looking good enough to eat. “Hey,” I replied, scrubbing the countertops hard enough to wear a hole in them.
“I should…uh… I should go. Get out of here. Let you have some time with your parents.”
“You don’t have to go.” I didn’t want him to leave. I wasn’t sure I wanted him to stay, either. I was as confused about him all of a sudden as I was about everything else, and all because he wanted me to have the surgery that we all knew I had to have or else I would die. I was a damned mess. I rinsed my cloth under the faucet, wrung it out, and hung it on the rack under the sink to dry, then turned to face him.
He had his arms and his ankles crossed, his head cocked slightly to the side. It made me wonder what he thought when he saw me. Did he undress me in his mind the way I did with him? But every time I did it, I felt as if I were using him the way Beau had used me. In my head, I knew there was a ton of difference between the two. I was just an object to Beau; Jamie was as good as salvation to me. My heart was having a hard time catching up with my head, though, and I felt unclean for thinking about Jamie in that way.
“I mean it,” I said. “You can stay, if you want.”
“What I want is to clear up what’s going on between us.”
My heart went all fluttery. It had been a long time since I’d felt anything like that—nerves zinging and everything turning floaty and light as air, but there was nothing solid for me to get a grip on. No man had ever been able to do that to me but Jamie. I backed up to the counter, gripping the edge of it to ground myself. “Meaning what, exactly?”
“Meaning I want to put words to it. I want to give it a name. I’m not okay with kissing you and holding you, being by your side for all the things a boyfriend would be there for, without it being understood in no uncertain terms that that’s what I am to you. I want us to be a couple. I want to be by your side through everything that’s coming, to hold your hand when you’re scared and pick you up when you’re weak. I want to know that you’re not going to run to some other asshole when we disagree or when I try to make sure you do what we both know is for the best for you. I want you to run to me, even if I piss you off. Because I will piss you off. Because I love you. And because you love me. And because I can’t go one more day without being able to tell you that as often as it comes to mind, which is about a dozen times a minute.”
Somewhere around the second or third word out of his mouth, my legs had felt like pudding, so it was a good thing I was already holding myself against the counter. If I let go now, I’d probably end up on my face instead of in his arms, which was the only place I wanted to be.
“I do love you, Jamie,” I said, gripping the counter so hard my fingers hurt. “I love you, and I’m furious that you would go along with my parents against me even if it’s for the best, and there’s no one else I would rather run to, and I’m scared. God, I’m so scared.” The last bit of that came out through blubbering tears, but it didn’t matter because Jamie crossed the room and put his arms around me. I rested my head on his shoulder, tucking it into that special space that seemed to have been designed to carry burdens, big and small. And he held me.
“I’m scared, too,” he whispered in my ear. But then he held me tighter, and some of my fear lifted because he was there. With me.
I stuck around for a few hours after dinner. We watched Dancing with the Stars because Zanna McQuaid, one of Katie’s co-stars from The Cool Kids, was competing and paired up with a Russian dude who acted like he was God’s gift to women. Judging from the reaction of the women in the audience, not to mention Laura, maybe he wasn’t the only one to think so.
I wasn’t so sure about that. He came across as a demanding ass to me. One look at Katie when the guy yelled at her friend for screwing up in practice was all I needed to know we were in agreement on that. She visibly cringed and burrowed more fully into my side. That only made me wonder what, exactly, had gone on with the guys she’d dated over the years. I sure as fuck wasn’t going to bring it up in front of her father, though, whatever it might have been. That was something that we could talk about when it was just the two of us. And we would. Soon. There were things I needed to know, even if hearing it ripped me to shreds.
Zanna and her partner danced a rumba to the same song that had played over Katie’s video that night she’d sung the anthem. It was a sensual dance, full of sexy moves that looked like they belonged in a bedroom more than on live television. At first, I watched and wondered how Zanna could dance with him like that when only days ago he’d been berating her, but then my thoughts shifted. To the song.
Or more specifically, to the band. It was by The End of All Things, one of the biggest rock bands in the world these days. They were Katie’s favorite band, too, or at least they had been a few years ago. But they just so happened to be based out of Portland. Not only that, but I had a connection with them. Burnzie’s wife, Brie, was a ballroom dancer who’d starred in one of their music videos and had helped to choreograph a few dances for their latest tour. My thoughts took off in a thousand directions at once, trying to come up with something I could do for Katie to make her decision easier. Maybe if she could do something with them, one final big moment when she could see some of her dreams come true…maybe then she would be willing to go through with the thyroidectomy. It was certainly an idea worth exploring.
I’d been lost in thought for a few minutes when Katie elbowed me in the ribs.
“Ouch,” I said, rubbing the spot she’d hit. Considering I got slammed into the boards and worse on a regular basis by guys easily twice her size, you’d think I would be immune to something like that.
“Get your phone out and vote,” she said. She rattled off the number. “Seven times,” she added once I’d disconnected the call. “And then seven texts, and seven votes on the website with your email address.”
“Got it.”
Webs chuckled to himself, but I couldn’t help but notice he was doing exactly as Laura had ordered him to do, too.
Once I had sufficiently voted according to Katie’s instructions, she settled against me again, tucking her feet up under her and letting me put my arm around her. It felt cozy and perfect, and I didn’t want it to end. Before long, though, the show was over and I needed to get home. We had practice tomorrow, and then I had to do a couple of radio spots and things like that. Plus the Thunderbirds would be getting into town, and I was buying Razor dinner, and Katie would be moving in to her new house. It was going to be a busy day, to say the least.
All I wanted to do was stay right where I was. Or maybe take Katie home with me, but I didn’t think that was going to happen. Not at the moment, at least. I didn’t want to rush anything, particularly not since she had so much on her mind right now. Some things were worth waiting for and doing right.
“I should get home,” I said, straightening myself away from her. “Don’t want to show up to practice tomorrow without getting enough rest.”
“You probably need to go play with Blackbeard, anyway,” Katie said.
Webs popped up a brow. “Blackbeard?”
“Jamie got a kitten.”
“And named it Blackbeard?” Webs’s shoulders shook with the effort of containing his laughter.
I shrugged. “He perches on my shoulder.”
“You two realize Blackbeard was the pirate, right? Not the parrot?”
“Nobody remembers the parrot’s name,” Katie said defensively.
Webs snorted and turned to me. “The boys will give you shit when they find out.”
Considering how much shit they’d give me if they found out other pertinent information, I wasn’t too worried about the teasing I’d get over a kitten’s name.
“Well, they don’t have any reason to find out about that, now do they?” Laura said with a meaningfu
l look at her husband.
“Guess it depends.” He eyed me as I stood. “Depends on how you treat my little girl.”
And we were back to the threats I’d come to know and expect from him. I nodded, holding back a grin. We were on familiar footing again, and that made me a hell of a lot more comfortable with the situation.
“See you in the morning,” I said to him, but he was already pulling up his iPad to look at more game film. He just nodded and gave me a brief wave. Then I turned to Laura. “Thanks for dinner.”
“You’re welcome anytime. It’s nice to have other people over. Feels more like when the kids were growing up, like we’re a family.”
I thought she might be skipping a few steps, saying it felt like family, but that was definitely the direction I wanted things to go.
Katie followed me to the entryway, taking my hand to slow me when we reached the hall. I stopped just inside the door, pivoting to face her because it seemed as if she had something she wanted to say. Her hair was down, obscuring her face, so I tucked it behind her ear. I wanted to see her clearly, see everything going on in her eyes.
There was a tumultuous storm there. Understandable, given the events of the day. Hell, the last week or more, even. She nibbled on her lower lip before finally spitting it out. “Sometimes in life,” she said cautiously, “you think you know what you want, and you want it with a fire that consumes you to the point that you’re willing to give up just about anything to get it. So you do. You give up everything, and you work, and you sacrifice and compromise, and then you get it. You finally get your hands wrapped around that elusive thing that has been eating you alive. But then, only after you have it, you realize that it’s not what you thought it would be. It’s empty and hollow, and what you really wanted—what you needed—is exactly the thing you gave up to get it.”
“Don’t know what you’ve got till it’s gone,” I said, cracking a grin.
She smiled, too, but the smile wasn’t as bright as usual. There was a sadness to it that might bring me to my knees if I wasn’t careful.
Dropping Gloves Page 12
