Chapter 22
Chapter
Vivian
“Thank you for today,” I said as he turned down his mother’s street. I was a bit conflicted about where we’d ended our heavy make-out session earlier. Part of me was desperate for more, but I also appreciated Lennon’s restraint. The opposing emotions warred within me, leaving me with a dull headache. “I had lots of fun.”
“That sounds like a dismissal.”
“It…kind of is.” I swallowed, the concern pushing past my desire to simply go for it with him. “I…I want to take us slow, like you said.” Do I? I closed my eyes.
He sighed. “I pushed too hard today.”
I shook my head. “I want to trust that you want me, not just my body, not just sex, or sexy games. But once my head cleared, and I got to thinking…”
“You’re a bit ambivalent about a future with me because the feelings you have for me scare you.”
There was something wonderful and irritating about being with an intuitive man. I sighed because he’d nailed my mixed emotions better than I’d been able to. “Yes.”
“If it makes it better… Never mind.”
“What?”
He pulled into the driveway and stopped. “I don’t think it’ll be helpful.”
“Lennon, talk to me. Please . I can’t take the not knowing.”
He sighed. “I hope this doesn’t grow the chasm between us, but I think part of why I was so adamant about protecting you by pushing you away was because, ultimately, that decision protected me. You couldn’t break my heart or reject me if we weren’t together.”
The first emotion that hit me was anger, followed almost immediately by bitterness. I stared out the front windshield, trying to absorb the emotions clobbering me.
“I made it worse,” he said.
“Not worse,” I replied after a moment. “And I think you’re correct. But that doesn’t mean it felt good to hear. I’m trying to figure out how to respond.”
“You’re mad.”
I shook my head as I turned to face him. His eyes were filled with shadows. “No. I felt that first, but it was grief.” I huffed a laugh. “It’s almost always grief and not anger. For me, anyway. No…I appreciate the honesty. In fact, I applaud you for being vulnerable. But it hurts.” I swallowed. “To hear you say you pushed me away even subconsciously to protect yourself. That really freaking hurts.”
“I wish I could redo the day after the attack. Or the week after. All of it.”
“But you can’t.”
He nodded. “I can’t. All I can do is my best moving forward, knowing I’ve already got one huge strike against me.” He closed his eyes and dropped his chin to his chest. “I made a terrible mistake. I hate that it hurt you. I wish I could undo it, but I also know that fixating on past actions won’t mean I make smarter, better decisions in the future. So I’m trying to lay it all out there, Vivi. I’m trying really hard to show you that you can trust me with your heart—and with your fears and even the bits of yourself you aren’t sure are loveable. I want you to be comfortable, to be wholly you with me and know that’s safe.”
Tears burned my eyes as I leaned forward and kissed him. It was a simple brush of the lips, but it felt marvelous. Right . “I’ll do my best,” I told him. “Now I think it’s best for me to go in. I want to double check some of the meds I have on hand for your mom and review the schedule.” I paused. “And I’m going to go over and over this conversation, obsessing and dissecting it, because I need to be sure I know where we’re going. Where I want to go.”
He leaned closer and kissed my forehead. “I care about you, Vivian—more than care, so I won’t push you.”
The next week was a haze. Lola came through her surgery well but struggled to expel the anesthesia from her body. Lennon and his sisters, Nina and Mia, all visited, and I finally had to kick them out of Lola’s room so she could fall asleep. Then, I went out into the living room and held Lennon’s hand as he shook. His sisters had gone home, giving us privacy. We hadn’t revisited our conversation from the other day. Right now, Lennon was too raw with worry for his mother. And then he had to go. Lennon left Belladonna with me after his mom’s procedure because he flew out the next morning for a five-day road trip.
As she recovered, Lola was stoic and stubborn, much like her son, but also more willing to ask for help. As I knew I would, I continued to go over and over my conversation with Lennon. I didn’t have to worry about seeing him, so that gave me time to obsess and dissect.
I was still grappling with my response to his fears. Ultimately, I realized that if he was afraid of me hurting him, Lennon was already in just as deeply as I was. He’d given me that truth, even though it wasn’t pretty, and he deserved mine back.
“I came here for him,” I told his mother one evening late in the week.
“I know,” Lola said.
She was huddled in her chair in a soft cotton lounge set and covered in two blankets. She’d been wracked with chills since the treatment yesterday. I tried to remind myself that meant the chemotherapy was working; the worse my patients felt after the initial treatments, the better their bodies responded. That wasn’t scientifically confirmed, but definitely something I’d noted among the people I’d nursed.
“And I know you’re here now because you care about me, too,” Lola added. Her voice was raspier than before the treatments. She’d lost a couple of pounds and struggled to find a comfortable position.
I settled on my knees next to her chair and took her hand. “I do care about you, Lola. Very much.”
“Because I remind you of your mother?” she asked.
I hummed. “A little. Though you’re feistier.”
She gave a faint chuckle.
“But it’s because of the way you treat those around you, how much you love your family.”
“That includes you, querida.”
I brushed her hair back from her forehead and offered her a large water container with the flexible straw. I liked this one best because she didn’t have to move much to hydrate.
She looked past me at the television, her expression turning animated. “Nail him to the boards, Lennon!”
I chuckled and returned to my seat on the couch to focus on the game.
It was a fast-paced skate fest where the players whipped across the ice like they had wings. Ice sprayed, bodies collided, and the puck squirted away from everyone’s sticks…
Until Maxim shouldered a Boston player into the Plexiglas even as he shot the puck to Lennon, who tapped it across his stick twice as he flew forward before slapping it up to Naese, who’d snuck around Boston’s goal. Naese shifted his stick, and the puck banked off it into the back of the net.
“He’s so confident on the ice,” Lola said with a soft smile. “He was such a serious boy after his father, Ruben, and then his brother, Ruben Jr., passed. Lennon felt the weight of responsibility on those little, middle-school-boy shoulders.” Lola shot me a sly look. “He’s always been so thoughtful but contained. He carries his hurts deep, along with his inadequacies.”
I nodded, my throat aching for the little boy who went through too much—and the man who was as scared of being hurt as I was.
“I’m looking forward to seeing him tomorrow,” Lola said. “I’ve enjoyed having Belladonna here, but I don’t like her shedding.”
“Lola, I need some advice,” I said softly.
“Ask away.”
I explained what Lennon had told me about protecting himself. She hummed in response, her expression grave.
“I…think his reaction has something to do with losing his dad and brother,” I told her. “Like maybe he’s worried that loving someone means loss.” I hesitated. “Even you… I mean, Lennon loves you. You’ve been his rock, but now you have cancer.” I looked at her. “I can’t be everything to him. And I don’t think I can heal that kind of emotional wound.”
In that moment, I realized I feared the same thing. I pressed my palms to my belly. Everyone I loved had left me. I wanted Lennon, was sure I loved him, but I kept him at arm’s length because I feared that once we were intimate, once he’d seen me at my most vulnerable, he’d disappear.
He’d done it before. I frowned because I told him I’d forgiven him that. But had I? Really?
She nodded. “I think you’re right, at least in part. But I also know that Silas, the Wildcatters coach, has been very insistent that Lennon get help with what’s bothering him. I won’t discuss that with you, but there was a reason I contacted you when I did.” She smiled, and it brightened her whole countenance. “Lennon was ready for you.”
The next morning, I settled Lola in her chair with a cup of ginger tea and an English muffin topped with a thin layer of peanut butter and strawberry jam. Lola liked the flavors, and I liked getting something nourishing into her stomach.
A knock at the door caused me to frown. “Are you expecting someone?” I asked.
Lola shook her head.
I went over and peeked through the peephole. I could see Hana and Ida Jane, along with another woman, so I opened the door.
“Hi,” Hana said with a smile. “I’m so glad to see you.” She pulled me in for a hug. This new version of Hana was much happier and much freer with the hugs than the woman I’d known in San Francisco. I liked the change, though it still surprised me from time to time.
“Hi, friends,” I said as I ushered them in. “What are you doing here?”
“We came to check on Lola,” Ida Jane said. “We brought some of her favorite foods now that she’s through this week’s round of therapy.” She lifted a large brown paper bag that smelled delicious.
“Is that arroz con pollo?” Lola called, leaning over in her chair.
“You got it in one,” Ida Jane said, making a beeline for her. “I’ll get you a plate.”
“Not too much,” Lola cautioned.
“You can save the rest for later,” Ida Jane called over her shoulder.
The third woman shut the door. She was taller than the other two and statuesque with dark curls and tanned skin. She had light brown eyes and a beatific smile.
“I’m Naomi Kramer, one of the original CATS,” she told me. My husband, Adam, played goalie, but now he’s one of the coaches.”
“Oh, wow. Nice to meet you.”
“Likewise.” She set down another large bag. It was lilac and embossed in silver with a store name I didn’t know.
“I talked to Ida Jane and Hana, and we got you a little something from my boutique,” she explained with a smile.
I smiled back. “Oh, that’s so nice,” I said. “Unnecessary, but really kind.”
“I sell high-end lingerie.” Naomi winked. “It really does a lot for your confidence.”
“And feeling sexy,” Hana said seriously.
I gawked. “I can’t believe you said that.” I shot a glance over at Lola and noted that she was trying to bury her grin behind her cup of tea. She caught my gaze and chuckled. “I was married, Vivian. I have two daughters, had two boys. I’m aware of attraction and intercourse.” She raised her eyebrows. “But I am not one of those women who wants to hear all the details.”
“Oh, thank goodness,” I said.
“Are there details?” Hana asked. “You haven’t said so.”
I shook my head. “When we met, we had two days together. I’ve just arrived here, and I have a job to do. I’ve still been getting settled.”
“Do you want there to be details?” Naomi asked, waggling her brows.
Thankfully, we all laughed, but I still felt squirmy about discussing my sex life in front of Lola.
“Naomi has no shame,” Ida Jane said with that soft drawl as she re-entered the living room with a plate for Lola. “Don’t worry about it.”
Naomi nodded. “That’s right. I don’t, which is why they brought me. Because I’m the one who’s going to ask you what’s going on between you and Cruz.”