Chapter 10
As soon as I walk through the front door, I’m met by two things: the glorious and mouth-watering smell of chocolate chip cookies and Daniel’s voice.
“That you, Lizzie?” Daniel calls from the kitchen.
Pregnancy hormones have me beelining straight for the kitchen, ready to fight to the death over the rights to scarf down the entire pan of cookies.
“Hey,” I say, grabbing five of them and kissing Daniel’s cheek in greeting.
I sit at one of the barstools along the counter island and moan in delight at the first bite of chocolatey yumminess.
One thing Daniel excels at is baking. Hailey has actually gained back some of the weight she lost and is looking so much better—not as sallow and emaciated as she did before when she first came back—and Daniel’s home cooking is one of the reasons.
Sitting down beside me with a cup of coffee in his hand, Daniel inquires, “How was your visit with Dr. Clairemont?”
My standing, monthly office visit with her was today after school.
It was brutal. And helpful. I had so much bottled up inside of me over the past month, it was good to be able to let it all out.
And boy did she get an hour’s worth of verbal vomit spewed all over her.
All my fears about Ryder, the baby, Jayson, graduation, my future, Hailey.
The pregnancy threw her at first, but she gave me some really great information and referrals.
“Good,” I reply. Wanting to change the subject, I ask him, “Where’s Hailey?”
“Brea came and picked her up about a half hour ago.”
The cookie I was about to inhale gets put down. “Did Brea say anything about Ryder?”
I still haven’t heard from him yet and it’s driving me bonkers not texting and calling him every three seconds. I don’t want to bother him, knowing today was going to be stressful enough. Other than my usual, “Good morning, I love you,” I’ve left him alone.
The cookies that mere seconds ago had tasted divine, now turn to cement in my stomach as worry ratches up my morning sickness, making me feel nauseous. I push the offending food away from me and turn in my stool to face Daniel.
Daniel covers my hand with his own. “No, sweetheart. I’m sure he’ll call you or come over soon.”
He pats my hand and gets up. Opening the door to the fridge, Daniel takes out some chicken and raw vegetables and puts them on the countertop. I guess we’re having chicken stir fry for dinner based on the items before me.
“You have a minute to stay and chat, or do you need to do homework?” he asks me.
“I can stay and chat. I only have Calculus left to do. I did my other homework during my free period at school.”
Needing something to keep me busy and my mind occupied, I wash my hands at the sink and begin preparing the broccoli, spring onions, carrots, and snow peas. He goes into the pantry and retrieves a few packages of microwavable jasmine rice.
I pull out a small knife from the cutting block on the back counter. “Anything in particular you want to talk about?” I say, getting to work.
Uncle Daniel took guardianship over me and Hailey when Mom and Dad died.
I know having two teenagers, especially ones with all the baggage Hailey and I carry around, is hard on him.
He’s single, has never married, and has no kids of his own.
We barely saw him growing up. He gets easily frustrated trying to figure out “this parenting thing,” as he calls it.
It’s quite funny to watch because he’ll start mumbling to himself and maybe thunk his head against a hard surface or two.
But when it comes down to the nitty-gritty of it, Daniel has been wonderful.
He loves us and only wants what’s best. He’s also an easy pushover.
I try not to take advantage of that since he’s basically allowed Ryder to move into our house and sleepover whenever.
He might regret his easy-parenting ways once he finds out I’m pregnant.
“Several things, actually,” he replies.
I slice the knife to make long, thin strips of carrot. “Alright.”
“Pete Masters wants to talk with you before he takes the plea deal.”
The knife clatters on the granite countertop as I drop it. Pete Masters is the drunk driver who killed my parents and caused my car accident. I don’t want to see or speak to that man. Ever.
I pick the cutting utensil back up. “Why?”
“I don’t know. But he won’t sign off on the plea deal unless he can speak with you first.”
I know enough legal stuff now to understand that if he doesn’t take the deal, his case will go to trial, and I’ll be called up as a witness by the prosecution.
Crap. I don’t want that. Not now. I can’t have my life tangled up in court appearances when I need to be here for Ryder.
Anger at my circumstances roils a hot wave through me.
“Fine.”
Daniel blinks. “Are you sure?”
“Yes,” I grit out. I slam the knife down onto the broccoli and cleave it in half.
“Lizzie.”
“I’m fine.” I’m really not. “Tell Mr. Worthington that I agree and will meet with Mr. Masters.”
At Fallon and Mr. Montgomery’s insistence, we got rid of our old lawyer and are now being represented by their family lawyer, Mr. Worthington.
Daniel sighs. He knows not to push. “Okay.”
“What else did you want to talk about?” I start on the onions next.
“What would you say about moving back into your old house? I’ve kept the mortgage payments up on it and no one is leasing it. I thought, maybe, being back home would help Hailey.”
Oh. I like living here in this new house.
It’s the house New Elizabeth is used to, and it’s filled with her new memories.
Good memories. My childhood home represents my old life.
The life where Mom and Dad still exist. Would I see their ghosts in every room and be haunted by them every day if we moved back there?
On the plus side, I’d be closer to Ryder and could walk to his house easily every day.
I’d be right next door to Jayson and Julien again.
“Let’s see what Hailey thinks, but my vote is yes.”
Daniel kisses the top of my head just as the front door opens. Thinking it’s Hailey, I shout, “Hales, did Brea say anything about Ryder?”
“You can ask me yourself,” Ryder says from the entryway, a gorgeous smile across his face.
If I were prone to squealing—which I’m not—I may have emitted a happy one at that moment. Rushing over, I leap into his arms, peppering kisses all over his face until he steadies my head between his two, strong hands and brings our lips together for a proper kiss.
“Ryder, are you staying for dinner?” Daniel asks him as I continue to cling to Ryder like a teddy bear cactus. Those suckers are wicked.
I saw a YouTube video where a guy threw part of one at his friend, and it imbedded so deeply into the other guy’s calf, it took hours to remove all the needles. The video was cringeworthy.
“Yes, sir. If that’s alright.”
Daniel looks up at us. His eyes alight on Ryder, a soft look of compassion and worry crossing his face. “Of course. I’ll let you know when it’s ready.”
I take his subtle cue that it’s okay for me to abandon helping him with dinner so I can spend time with Ryder. Hands twined together, I pull Ryder to the living room and sit us on the couch. He looks tired.
Propping myself cattywampus in the corner of the sofa, I motion for Ryder to sit down between my legs, so his back is to my front, and I promptly begin massaging his shoulders and neck. His head lolls back, eyes closed, and he hums.
“How do you always know exactly what I need?” he mumbles.
I kiss the side of his neck and hold back my barrage of questions I’m dying to ask about his doctor visit today, knowing he’ll tell me when he’s ready. I also hold off on telling him about Pete Masters.
“School was boring without you. Mer wants to have a girl’s night on Saturday, but I can back out of it.” My fingers rake through his soft, black-brown hair and falter when I think about how he could lose all of it during chemo.
“Babe, you can’t stop living your life because of me.”
I kiss his neck again as a wave of depression hits me, morbid thoughts of a life without him slithering their way into my brain. “I’d rather spend time with you.”
He’ll be in isolation for a while and then after the graft, he’ll be in recovery and not able to resume normal activities for about six months, maybe more.
He’ll have to go in regularly for tests and transfusions.
Also, his immune system will be down, so group activities are a no.
Ryder’s life is going to be turned upside down and my heart absolutely breaks for him.
He doesn’t deserve this, and it makes me furious. It’s not fair. None of this is fair.
I wrap my arms around him as tears streak down my cheeks. Ryder shifts and rolls over until we are nose-to-nose. He kisses me gently.
“Hey, no. Shhh. Baby, it’s going to be okay.”
“I love you so much,” I whisper, bringing a hand up to smooth across his jawline. He’s so beautiful, my amber-eyed boy.
Several voices intermingle as the front door opens once again, stopping the intimate moment between me and Ryder. Jayson, Julien, Brea, and Hailey all walk in and stop when they see us. Daniel is going to need to make more food.
Me: You up?
Fallon: Yep.
Fallon: How are you feeling?
Me: Only threw up twice today. I call that a win.
Ryder is fast asleep beside me in my bed, his hand splayed wide over my stomach like he can sense the new, little life growing under his palm, even though I haven’t told him about it yet.
As each minute passes, my guilty conscience grows.
I plan to tell him right after Christmas.
Or maybe after New Year. Not knowing how he’s going to take the news, I decide yet again to wait so I won’t spoil the holidays for him.
I know it’s just another lame excuse at delaying the inevitable.
Fallon: You went silent. You okay?
Me: Yeah. Sorry. Mind drifted. I had a question.
Fallon: ??
Me: There’s a recording studio in Raleigh. Think you can help me book some time there to record a song?
Fallon: I’ll make it happen. Can I ask why?
Me: Something on my YOLO list.
Fallon: Your what?
Me: Long story. I’ll show it to you since I’m going to need your help with 70% of it anyway.
Fallon: Ry called me earlier. Still getting tested just in case.
Ryder explained to us over dinner about the treatment and recovery plan he and his doctors agreed on.
Jamie, Ryder’s older sister, was tested two weeks ago and the results show that she is a good match and will be his marrow donor.
He’ll go into isolation and start ablative radiation on January fifth.
Me: Since Ryder will be in the hospital, Jayson and Julien are insisting they throw us a joint birthday party on New Year’s Eve.
Fallon: I’m in.
Fallon:
I smile and send him a GIF of a group of friends partying in a bar.
Me: Fallon, I’m scared.
Fallon: I know, kitten. So am I.