44. Blair
44
BLAIR
I lean against the wall, watching three grown men and two children argue over the best way to build a dam out of sand. This water table is supposed to be for kids. It's in the toddler area. But all the men are on their knees, sleeves rolled up, looking all kinds of focused, like they're building an actual fucking dam. It's bizarre and adorable, but I'll never admit that to their faces.
"The angle's all wrong." Jonas gestures at the pile of wet sand Kade's molding. "You need a forty-five degree slope for optimal water resistance."
"When did you get your fucking engineering degree?" Kade slaps more sand onto his creation. "It needs to be steep as hell. Like a wall."
"No cursing around the kids," Ransom mutters, carefully sculpting his own dam with practiced movements.
"That ship has fucking sailed," Kade mutters, rolling his eyes.
As someone with an actual engineering degree, I could go over there and help them. But I'm not going to. This is too entertaining.
It's weird seeing Ransom like this. I know he's a family guy. I saw a little glimpse of that when Mia jumped into his arms after getting off that bus. And again taking care of the kids last night. But I didn't fully get the dynamic with his brothers until now. Seeing how relaxed they are with each other, how familiar, is eye-opening. I guess I expected him to be the dad, and for all of them to look up to him, show him deference. But they're not that. Yeah, they seem to treat him a little differently. They listen a little longer, but ultimately, they're still going to tell him to fuck off if he's wrong.
I don't know if it would be the same in some other setting—like during a corporate takeover or whatever the fuck they do on the daily.
Max dumps a bucket of water behind Kade's dam, making him yell. It crumbles instantly.
"See?" Jonas straightens his glasses. "The structural integrity?—"
"Why don't you shove—," Kade bites back the words as he locks eyes with a grinning Max, then forces his attention back on rebuilding his walls.
Mia giggles as she and Max pour more water, washing away Kade's second attempt. This time he doesn't stop the curses. Ransom slaps him on the back of the head with a wet, sandy hand, but Kade apparently has a hard head and doesn't seem at all bothered.
"My turn!" Max grabs fresh sand. "We should make it like a mountain."
"That's essentially what I've been suggesting." Jonas nods approvingly.
"No, like this." Ransom demonstrates, his hands moving with surprising delicacy through the sand. "You want to pack it tight, create layers."
"That's not working." Mia places her hands on her hips. "We need a moat. Like a castle. I'll be the princess, 'kay?"
"A moat would just direct more water toward the base," Jonas explains.
"But moats are cool!" Max jumps up and down.
"The kid's got a point." Kade starts digging.
"That's not going to—" Jonas sighs as their latest attempt dissolves.
I can't help but laugh. These successful businessmen are covered in wet sand, arguing with children about dam engineering. The scene is so absurd, I've actually forgotten about Maggie for a few blessed minutes.
"Aunt Blair!" Max waves. "Come help us!"
"I'm good here." I shake my head, smiling.
"Your loss." Ransom winks at me. "We're making history here."
"Scientific history," Jonas adds seriously.
"Engineering disaster is more like it," I mutter.
"I heard that." Ransom points at me with a sandy finger. "Just wait until we perfect our design."
Another wave of water crashes through their latest attempt, sending all five of them scrambling back with surprised yelps.
"Okay, new plan." Kade wipes his face. "We combine all our ideas."
"That's not how engineering works," Jonas protests.
"Watch and learn, brother." Kade starts gathering more sand. "Max, get me that bucket. Mia, we need your moat expertise."
I press my lips together, trying not to laugh as they start yet another doomed attempt. These people are completely ridiculous. And somehow, they're exactly what I needed today.
Becca, Bree, Abby, and Janey all collapse onto the bench beside me, breathing hard from chasing the rest of the men around the science center. Where are those guys? These boys haven't made it past the water table, but there are a bunch of others running loose somewhere in this giant place. I'm not much for the city, but I can see the benefits of places like this. At home, if it's bitterly cold, we hunker down at home, and Max ends up watching way too much TV. Here, we could bring him somewhere like this to run around.
I.
I could bring him somewhere like this.
There's a groan from beside me, and I eye the woman, looking like she'd rather be anywhere but here. Janey clutches a can of ginger ale, taking careful sips between nibbles of saltine crackers.
"You okay?" I shift over, giving her a little room and, yes, getting out of vomit range. Just in case. "You look a little green."
"I'm not sick. Just pregnant." Janey's eyes sparkle despite her pale complexion.
The bench erupts in squeals and flailing limbs. Becca tumbles sideways, landing hard on the floor as the others surge forward to hug Janey.
"Oh my god!"
"When did you find out?"
"Does Jonas know?"
I reach down to help Becca up, then step back from the enthusiastic group hug happening on the bench. These women clearly share a deep bond—deeper than I would have expected considering they've only known each other a couple of years at most. "You're not getting in on that?" I ask Becca, pointing to the crying, screaming bunch.
Becca brushes off her pants and stays standing with me, grinning so big it looks like it hurts. “I already knew. Plus, I'm not looking to get an elbow to the boob today."
"Smart move." I cross my arms, watching the animated conversation continue without us.
"So." Becca bumps my shoulder. "How was your night at Casa de Ransom? Did you sleep okay?"
"Okay? Pretty sure the sheets on that bed cost more than my truck." I slept like a damn rock, but that might have a lot more to do with the whiskey. Foul stuff, but it's fucking effective at making worries drift away. For a little while at least.
"Knowing Ransom? Probably." She grins. "Did you snoop through his stuff?"
"What? No!"
"Boring. I always snoop." Becca wiggles her eyebrows. "Found some interesting things in his bathroom cabinet."
"I don't want to know."
"Just hemorrhoid cream." She shrugs. "And hair dye. He's letting the hair on his head go grey, so I'm guessing it's for down south."
"Down so—" I can't help but laugh. This woman is a shit disturber of the first order. "Yeah, you're a bit of an asshole, aren't you? Ransom said you have a way of getting on his nerves."
"It's a gift." Becca studies me. "You okay though? Really?"
"Yeah, just..." I gesture at the chattering group. "They're nice. I'm just not..."
"Part of the sisterhood yet?" Becca nods. "Understandable. They're too fucking loud and way too teary."
"I heard that, asshole," Abby calls over.
"Love you too, sweetie!" Becca blows her a kiss, then turns back to me. "Evie told me a little about your friend. No details of course, just that she’s not doing well. I'm sorry. It's shit."
"It is."
"There's no hope?"
How the fuck do I answer that question? I'm used to keeping stuff private. Yeah, everyone in town knows everyone else's business, but they learn stuff the right way, through gossip. This asking questions and talking about hard shit is weird.
But I'm tired of worrying by myself. It's gotten me nowhere so far.
"It's stage four. The doctors weren't hopeful."
"And she's not getting treatment?"
"No."
Becca scowls down at the floor. "I don't get that. If there's even a little ounce of hope, why quit? Miracles happen every day."
I bite my lip, choking down all the feelings I've kept buried for months. Part of me wants to scream in agreement with Becca, to tell her that I don't fucking get it either, but loyalty to Maggie holds me back.
"She's been through this twice before." My voice comes out steadier than I feel. "The chemo nearly killed her the second time."
"But medicine's always advancing?—"
"You don't understand what it did to her." I wrap my arms around myself, memories of her last round of chemo playing through my mind like snippets from a horror show. "She couldn't keep food down for months. She lost so much weight her clothes hung off her. I could wrap my thumb and pinkie around her wrist."
Becca winces, but a look of determination quickly wipes it away. "Still better than?—"
"Than what? Dying?" The words taste bitter. "That's what she said when I begged her to reconsider. Said she'd rather have three good months than six awful ones."
Scowling, she studies the group, arguing again at the water table. "But Max?—"
"Is exactly why she's choosing this." I glance over at them too, loving how much fun Max is having. He's getting to be a kid for a while, and I'll stand here all day watching him play if it keeps that look on his face. "She wants him to remember her living, not..." I swallow hard. "Not hooked up to machines, too weak to hug him."
Becca's quiet for a moment. "That's what she told you?"
"Among other things." I force a weak smile. "She said quality over quantity. That she's lived a full life, gotten to be a mom like she always wanted."
"Sounds like making lemonade out of big fucking lemons."
"Maybe. Probably. Every time I think I've accepted it, I find myself trying to change her mind again."
"Because you love her."
"Yeah," I say, staring sightlessly at the sand tables. "But it's her choice. And maybe she's right—maybe it would be selfish of me to demand she suffer through more treatment just so I can keep her longer."
"I don't think that's selfish," Becca says, sighing. "I gotta admit, I don't get her. Cancer fucking sucks. I watched it take my dad, and I wouldn't wish it on anyone except shitty human beings. But to just not try?"
"It's just... hard to hope sometimes. To keep thinking maybe this time will be different, then having it all crash down again."
"Sounds like you're not just talking about Maggie anymore." Becca's eyes bore into me. "Maybe about a certain tall, brooding guy who's about to bitch slap my husband over a fucking moat?"
Huh. Yeah, that's totally happening. They're nose to nose, slapping at each other's hands in the sand. Laughing, I turn back to Becca. "We already talked about Ransom yesterday."
"Yeah, but I'm fascinated by him." Becca leans against the wall beside me. "And you knew him before. Like, the original Ransom Kyle. That's fucking mythic."
I snort. "Mythic? He was just a scared kid trying to figure shit out."
"See? That right there. You knew him when he was still becoming... him." She waves toward where Ransom, apparently over his issue with Kade, is helping Max pack sand into a bucket. "The rest of us only know the finished product."
"There's nothing finished about Ransom Kyle." I shake my head. "He changes the game so fast I have whiplash. One minute he's all business, trying to buy my shop, then all of a sudden—" I can't finish it. Then all of a sudden he has feelings.
"Ah." Becca's expression softens. "That's what you meant about hoping in vain."
"I didn't mean?—"
"You loved him. He left. You hoped he'd come back, and he didn't." She ticks off points on her fingers. "Then you finally moved on, and boom—here he is again."
"It's not that simple."
"Never is with Ransom." Becca shrugs. "But you're the only one who knew him before all this." She gestures at the science center. "Before the money and the family and everything else. You knew him when he was just... Ransom."
I watch him laugh at something Max says, his eyes crinkling at the corners. "Yeah, I did."
"So tell me—is he really that different now?"
I study Ransom as he gently wipes sand from Mia's cheek. His clothes are casual—worn jeans and a henley that probably cost more than I make in a week. But the way he moves is different now. Graceful, controlled.
"He used to be such a klutz," I say, half to myself.
"What?" Becca turns to me.
"Ransom. He was still growing into himself back then. All arms and legs, like a newborn colt." I can't help but smile at the memory. "He'd be walking into the kitchen and just... fall. For no reason."
"No way." Becca's eyes widen. "Any chance you have video?"
"I wish. One time he was carrying a stack of parts across the garage and tripped over absolutely nothing. Scattered bearings everywhere. Took us hours to find them all."
"Pictures? Anything?"
Ransom looks up then, catching my eye. He's filled out since those awkward teenage years. Shoulders broader, movements precise. But when he smiles, I see that same warmth that drew me to him all those years ago.
"The core of him hasn't changed much," I admit. "That part that wants to take care of everyone? That was always there. Even when he could barely take care of himself."
"How do you mean?"
"He'd give away his lunch if someone forgot theirs. Skip meals to buy parts for cars he was fixing up for people who couldn't afford repairs." I watch him demonstrate something to Max, his hands moving carefully. "Dad was proud of that. Said Ransom was learning how to be a part of a community."
"Sounds familiar." Becca chuckles. "He still does that. Tries to fix everything for everyone."
"Yeah, well, now he can actually afford to."
"The money helps a lot. He's going to try to help with Maggie, you know." Becca's voice cuts through my thoughts. "It's what he does."
"She doesn't want his help." It doesn't matter how much I would like her to accept that help.
"Maybe not, but that's not the point." She shifts against the wall. "He cares about you—like, deeply cares. And Maggie's important to you, so..."
"So what? He'll swoop in with his millions and try to fix everything?"
"Probably." Becca shrugs. "Look, I've known him for years now. When he loves someone, he goes all in. And Blair? The way he looks at you..."
"Don't." I cross my arms tighter.
"I'm just saying—I bet he's already making calls. Probably has a team of doctors lined up."
"Maggie doesn't want that," I say again.
"Doesn't matter. He'll do it anyway." She shrugs, but her eyes are shrewd, knowing. "Not to override her choices or anything. Just to have options ready."
"That's not his place."
"No, but he'll do it for you. Because you're hurting, and he can't stand seeing people he loves in pain."
"I never asked?—"
"Nobody ever asks." Becca's voice softens. "That's kind of the point with Ransom. He sees a need and fills it before anyone has to ask."
"I know."
"He hasn't changed that much, has he?" Becca asks.
"No," I admit. "Just has more resources now."
"Exactly. So brace yourself — because the guy who used to share his lunch money is now a billionaire who's in love with you. And your best friend is sick."
I watch Ransom with Max, my emotions a tangled mess. Part of me wants Becca to be right — wants to believe that Ransom's resources and determination could somehow help Maggie. The other part remembers how stubborn Maggie is, how fiercely she guards her independence. And the love part? I'm truly starting to believe it.
"I just don't want him making things worse," I murmur. "Maggie's made her peace with this. If he starts pushing treatments or experimental protocols..."
"She might shut down completely?" Becca finishes.
"Yeah." I rub my arms. "She's been through so much already. The last thing I want is for her final months to be filled with conflict."
"But what if he found something that could actually help?"
"That's the part that kills me." I let out a shaky breath. "What if he does? What if there's some treatment out there we don't know about? Some clinical trial or new therapy?"
"And you're worried about pushing too hard versus not trying hard enough?"
"Exactly." I watch Max dump another bucket of water on their latest sand creation. "I want to respect her choices, but..."
"But you also want to grab her by the shoulders and shake some sense into her?"
"Something like that." I manage a weak smile. "I just don't know where the line is between supporting her and giving up on her."
"And now there's Ransom, with all his resources and his need to fix everything."
"Yeah." I close my eyes briefly. "I'm terrified he'll bulldoze in and make everything worse."
"Aunt Blair," Max shouts a second before he grabs my hand. "You gotta come help. They don't know what they're doing. It's a shit show!"
"Yeah, kid, I can see that. I'm coming." I let him tug me away, looking back once to meet Becca's knowing eyes.
It's going to come to a head. I know it.
How am I going to keep everything from imploding?