Would people let her in faster if they knew she had cancer? Probably. She should just stick her head out the window, yell, “I’ve got cancer. Can I cut in?”
Her phone began to ring, the Bluetooth system alerting her to a call from Delia. Amy hesitated. she wasn’t ready to share the news yet. It was too raw. She had no plan, no prepared speech. And she knew she couldn’t talk about it yet without crying hysterically.
Maybe she could save the news until after Christmas. It was a week away. The holiday was hard enough, reminding Amy and Delia of their father’s absence. Her mom kept good cheer up, but last year, Amy heard her crying behind her locked bedroom door after they’d all gone to bed. No, she wouldn’t add to the emotional weight of Christmas with this.
Sy would be gone soon, the holiday spirit could still be spirited, and then she could tell everyone about the lump and what it meant. Though she still wasn’t sure exactly what it did mean. If she didn’t make an appointment for next week or ever, she would never know. That was tempting. Just to pretend she didn’t have cancer at all.
But Amy didn’t want to die.
At least now she could avoid the awkward conversations she and Delia would have now about Sy.
Look on the bright side! I dodged a bullet! Once again, Amy would be on the receiving end of more clichés she could collect and put in the vault.
The phone stopped ringing, but Delia immediately started calling again. Sighing heavily, Amy pressed the button on her steering wheel to answer the call. “Hey, Delia.”
“Really? That’s what you have to say?” Delia’s voice was charged with anger and accusation.
Amy stiffened. “Um … say about what?”
“When were you going to tell me?”
Panic clawed through her. How had Delia already found out about the cancer? Amy hadn’t told anyone that she was even going to see Dr. Harmon. She wasn’t ready to talk about this.
“How did you find out?”
“The internet, where the rest of the world found out. I’m your sister, Amy. I expected more from you.”
Amy frowned. Sure, she should have told her sister that she was having a biopsy in the first place. But how in the world did it get on the internet? And who cared? Or maybe this was something else. It had to be.
“Pretend I have no idea what you’re talking about. What, exactly, did you find out about from the internet?”
“Only that you’re dating the Perpetual Bachelor, aka Sy LaMarque. Which is funny, because as of two nights ago, I thought he and I were dating.”
Amy wanted to bang her head on the wheel. Apparently, Sy hadn’t gotten around to telling Delia that he wasn’t interested in her. Or that he was taking Amy out. Swell. Not that it mattered now. Except now she had an angry sister to deal with.
If Amy pulled the cancer card, she could get herself out of this dressing-down in no time. But she couldn’t bring herself to do it.
“I guess Sy didn’t talk to you?”
“What I want to know is why my sister didn’t talk to me first. You saw me with him the other night. How could you?”
Something that had been tightly wound in Amy for a long time suddenly snapped. “Yeah, and you saw how in love with him I was. For years. That didn’t stop you. Then or now.”
“You were too young for him, Amy. Get serious.”
“I’m not too young now. Did you ever think about him after prom? I mean, really? You came home with another boyfriend that same night. A crown on your head and a new guy. While the one guy I wanted—always wanted—sat in jail. You never liked him. You didn’t even care.”
“I cared. And if Sy had cared about me, he wouldn’t have fought Derek Abernathy over another girl.”
Amy’s chest had been tight. Now it squeezed even harder. “Another girl? No. He loved you. I watched him pine after you. Do you know how hard that was, by the way? What girl?”
Amy inched closer to the accident involving an eighteen-wheeler carrying chickens and a few other cars. Feathers were all over the road.
Delia’s voice grated on her ears, making her head pound. “Don’t worry about the girl. That’s old news. Let’s talk about now. And how you saw me stake my claim and then you went ahead anyway. I always knew you were selfish, but I had no idea—”
“Me? Selfish? I cannot believe you.”
“Yes, selfish. And now you are all over the internet—famous. Even for fifteen minutes. You have what I worked so hard for and couldn’t get. Sy could give that to me. It's my dream, Ames. Mine. And you took it.”
Amy swallowed. There is was. This wasn’t about Sy. Not at all. It was, like everything with Delia, all about Delia.
“We all know—our whole family—that we live in Delia’s world. Everything is always about you. Once, one time, I wanted something. Sy. And you won’t even let me have that.”
“One time? Wow. So, you’re just forgetting all about those years when you had cancer and every moment was about you? Nothing in my life mattered. Because any decision, any award, any good thing I did wasn’t life or death. Compared to brave Amy, selfless Amy, fighting for her life Amy, nothing I did was ever enough.”
Amy’s tears made it hard to see the road. In front of the car, a policeman was waving traffic past the accident. He frowned at her and waved her onto the shoulder. Amy nodded and pulled to a stop. She really shouldn’t be driving right now. Clearly, he could see that.
Though her sister was undeniably selfish, Amy had never thought about what it must have been like for Delia, living with a little sister who had cancer and basically slept at death’s door. Delia was self-absorbed, but Amy understood more now. She could picture it from Delia’s perspective. Amy had only ever thought of it from her own.
Everything did revolve around Amy for years. Vacations became a thing of the past. Their money was too tight to buy Delia a car when she turned sixteen, like her parents had always promised. Her treatments came first, which meant sometimes her parents missed Delia’s cheer competitions and events.
But it’s not like Amy wanted that. She didn’t choose cancer or how it invaded all their lives. They had to adjust simply to keep her alive. Still. For the first time, she realized that she and her sister had both been victims of cancer. Her parents too. Knowing she was about to thrust them back into that life made her stomach churn.
Amy sniffed, hearing sounds like quiet crying over the line.
“I didn’t know you felt that way,” Amy said.
“Of course you didn’t. You were too sick.” Delia sighed into the phone. “I know it makes me a terrible person for being jealous of you.”
Amy laughed through her tears. “And I was so jealous of you. You are so pretty and popular and did cheerleading and won awards. You had everything. I could barely get out of bed most days.”
Delia giggled. “We were jealous of each other, then. And didn’t even know it.”
“Looks like it.” Amy sighed. “Maybe we should have talked about this a long time ago.”
“Maybe we should talk more, Ames.”
Amy’s throat tightened. This was the longest talk they’d had in years, and the most significant. Yes, her sister was selfish. But Amy loved her. They had never really been the kind of sisters who had these conversations. She wanted to, though. Maybe it wasn’t too late to start.
“I don’t want to fight over a guy, D.” When Amy spoke, her voice quaked with emotion.
“So, let’s not. We should both let him go.”
Amy bristled, the sisterly camaraderie vanishing in an instant. Of course, that would be Delia’s solution. If she couldn’t have Sy, no one could.
But Amy had to admit this was the perfect answer. It gave her an easy out with Sy. If Amy told Sy a relationship was impossible because she had cancer, he wouldn’t leave her. She knew that about him. He would stay, whether he really liked her or not. It would be just like in high school. A repeat of Amy loving him and Sy being there because he was a good guy.
This gave her the pe
rfect excuse to cut him loose. She couldn’t choose Sy over her sister. And she wasn’t about to let him give up anything to be there for her.
“Okay,” Amy said.
“Okay?”
“I’ll let him go. Just friends. Nothing more.”
Friends. With Sy. At one time, that would have been enough. Any connection to him. Any relationship. But now, it wasn’t all she wanted. Amy wanted a real relationship with Sy. Her childhood crush had bloomed into something real. When they were on their date, Amy could see a future stretching out before her with this man. His kindness, his humor, his warm honey eyes … and the way she felt so safe next to him.
And though it made her want to pinch herself, Amy sensed that Sy felt the same way. It hadn’t been a pity date, or he wouldn’t have asked for a second. If she had any doubts, seeing the way he postured in front of Brandon at the end of the date made it clear.
Amy bit her lip, trying to hold back the swell of emotion. With or without Delia, Amy couldn’t have Sy. Cancer stole that chance the moment she got her diagnosis from Dr. Harmon.
Cancer had taken her teenage years. Now it was going to take her hair, her health, her breasts. And her chance at love with Sy.
He would stay with Amy through it all if she told him. She knew that. But if he did, at this early stage where it wasn’t even a relationship, she wouldn’t ever know for sure if he stayed because he loved her or because he had a sense of honor. Telling him would take away his choice. He would feel bound to her. Obligated.
Amy needed to push him away before it came to that. She wouldn’t let him be trapped. The promise to Delia gave her an easy out.
When Delia spoke, it surprised Amy. She hadn’t realized that she was still on the line, she was so caught up in her thoughts.
“I love you, Ames. You’re a good sister. And friend.”
“Thanks.” She wasn’t, though. Not really. No one really saw the selfishness and the darkness in Amy’s own heart. She understood her sister better after this conversation, but if Amy was honest, she still thought Delia was being selfish. She was still angry with her for forcing this promise, even if Amy could use it as an excuse. “So, are we good, then? Truce?”
Delia laughed. “Truce.” There was a pause that made Amy nervous. She knew her sister too well and could almost hear the wheels turning in Delia’s head. “Starting now. Truce starting now.”
Well, that was ominous. “Delia, what did you—”
Amy was interrupted by a rapping on the window. The policeman who had waved her over stood at Amy’s window. He rested his knuckles against the glass.
“I’ve gotta go. talk to you later.” Amy didn’t want to hang up. She wanted to know what her sister had done, because clearly, Delia had done something. Right now, though, she had to deal with the policeman glaring at her.
Amy tried to calm her breathing before she rolled down her window. “Hi, officer.”
He stared at her and Amy wondered what he saw. Probably just another distracted driver.
“Are you alright, miss?”
No. Amy took a breath, steadying her hands against the wheel. “Sure.”
The silence stretched between them. Amy felt more vulnerable under his gaze than she had in a long time. Was he going to give her a ticket? Her lower back began to sweat.
“You looked distracted. Did you see the accident?”
She nodded, and he looked away, leaning on her car but staring out over the stretch of highway still clogged with traffic. “Hard to miss.”
He frowned. “You need to be careful. Even hands-free phone calls can be distracting. Driving is a serious business.”
“I know.”
“Do you?” he countered.
The thread of calm Amy had been holding onto snapped. “Actually, yes. I’m a cancer survivor. I know how precious life is. I just found out it’s come back. So, yeah. I get it. Forgive me if I’m a little emotional right now, but I don’t need a lecture about driving safety.”
Amy turned away, blinking back tears. He was definitely going to give her a ticket now. Maybe she’d get arrested for harassing an officer.
The officer shoved his hand through the open window and Amy flinched. But he held out a cloth handkerchief. Her fingers trembled as she took it.
“Thank you,” she said, wiping her eyes.
“Why don’t you sit until you feel more ready to drive. Or I can always escort you home?”
His voice had dropped to almost a whisper, colored with a kindness she wouldn’t have imagined him capable of just moments before.
“No, thanks. I’ll be okay in a few minutes. Is it okay if I just sit here?”
“Sure. You’re out of the way over here.” When Amy tried to hand back the handkerchief, he waved her off. “Keep it.” He paused, then licked his lips. “My wife had cancer.”
Had. Amy closed her eyes. “I’m so sorry.”
“No, no—she didn’t die.” He chuckled softly. “She’s just fine. We have two kids now. It sucked, but we got through it. Together. Do you have support?”
Amy nodded, thinking of her mother and sister. Then she thought of Sy and it felt like someone stabbed her directly in the heart.
“Yes,” she whispered.
“Don’t give up. Keep fighting. The people who love you will be right there with you. Okay?” He tapped the side of her car twice, then walked away. Amy could only nod her head. She watched in her rearview mirror as the officer joined the other emergency responders behind her car.
She wanted to fight, she did. But Amy felt completely exhausted and didn’t know how much fight she had left.
Chapter 12
TWELVE
Sy set the screwdriver down on the wooden railing he had just secured and took a long pull from his bottle of water. He surveyed the pergola that he and the twins had almost finished building in the bed and breakfast’s backyard. It was a simple structure, but well-constructed. With Easton taking control and all three working through the morning, it had been easier than Sy thought. He didn’t want to change careers, but he could understand why E felt so satisfied working with his hands. That morning, the pergola had been a pile of lumber. Hopefully Amy would love it.
Sy checked his phone again to see if she had called to explain why she ditched him that morning. Still nothing. He didn’t want to worry, but whatever had been building between them still felt fragile. Everything seemed fine last night. Had he done something already to mess things up? He took another long pull from the water bottle.
“Hey! No drinking on the job!” Elton called out. “You’re about to get your wages docked.”
Sy grinned. “Nice try. But since I’m not getting paid and you aren’t my boss, I’ll take all the breaks I want.”
Elton only laughed. He balanced on a ladder, holding a beam in place for the top of the structure. Easton stood on another ladder, using an electric screwdriver to attach it. If it had been Sy on his own, he would have been using nails. But Easton arrived with his own tools and a plan. Apparently, screws would make the pergola more secure. Thankfully there were already foundation posts in place from whatever structure had been here before. Otherwise, they would have simply been sitting, watching cement dry.
Maybe this was the kind of thing he should have asked about first. Sy was likely overstepping about twenty boundaries. But the pergola looked great and Amy did mention wanting one. Until he talked to Amy, Sy was going to second-guess everything.
Did she just not want to go on a date with Sy?
He thought things had gone well the day before. But maybe he came across too strong. Especially when he showed up at the end of the night with his shirt off, scaring off her date. Sy could tell even from a distance that Amy wasn’t interested. She seemed stiff and defensive. Brandon on the other hand … Sy was just glad the guy hadn’t tried something.
Left dateless and with no plan for the day, Sy spotted the lumber and remembered Amy talking about all the projects overwhelming her. It hardly took any conv
incing to get the twins out here. Paxton would have come, but was busy doing community service, thanks to league sanctions after being caught on camera fighting.
Easton finished with the last screw. He and Elton hopped down, and the three of them stood shoulder to shoulder, admiring their work. The pergola stretched out over the cement patio, giving the area a more finished feeling. It still looked a little skeletal to Sy, like it was missing something.
“You sure it doesn’t need a roof?” Sy asked, eyeing the open lattice-work at the top. This is what Amy had wanted, but he didn’t understand the practical reason for a structure that covered something without actually covering it.
Easton shook his head. “Then it wouldn’t be a proper pergola. It would just be a roof over a patio.”
“Maybe I just don’t get pergolas. What’s the point?”
Easton chuckled. “It’s more about beauty than a practical purpose. We’ll get some climbing vines, maybe wisteria, and train them to grow up over the top.”
He said “we,” but Sy would be long gone before vines had time to grow up over the top. How was this going to work between him and Amy if they didn’t live in the same city? Sy rubbed a hand over his cheek. “If you’re sure.”
“I know it’s what Amy wanted,” E said.
It might have been irrational, but the idea that Easton knew what Amy wanted sent jealousy surging through Sy. Easton could stop by any time he wanted to, Elton too. Not for the first time, Sy wondered if there was any history there.
Elton pointed a finger at Sy. “Well, color you jealous. No need to be, brother. You’re the one dating Amy, not me or my bone-headed brother.” He laughed.
“I’m not—wait, how did you know we were dating? I mean, we aren’t dating. We did go on a date, but…”
Elton’s brow furrowed. “Huh. That’s interesting.” He pulled his phone out of his back pocket and navigated to a website before putting it in Sy’s hand. “The internet seems to think you are an item. The Perpetual Bachelor, finally off the market! Between you and Pax, the media might set up camp permanently here in Katy.”
Her Second Chance Dream Groom Page 11
