Chapter 8
CHAPTER EIGHT
It hadn’t been hard for Lace to find out all about Inez. It seemed the nurses were not only sympathetic, but angry with the way the girl was so carelessly dropped off and handed over to them without any support.
With Lace hooked up to her own weekly vein-venom, they’d also figured, and rightly so, that she was a knowledgeable and sympathetic ear.
It hadn’t hurt that the nurses were also all speculating about what Fluffo looked like without his caftan and face paint on, so Lace had used that, and dangled it in front of their noses as a bargaining chip.
She’d give them info regarding Vincent, in return for the scoop on Inez.
It had worked like a charm.
As soon as they’d all agreed on a surreptitious information swap, Lace had outed Vincent’s real name to them, then gone onto social media to find pictures of Diver Downeast’s staff to pass around.
Vincent wasn’t in any of the media stills, but Lace didn’t hesitate to assure the RNs that Spencer, Buck, Trask, and Julian all had a familial resemblance to the Vince who was obscured beneath his make-up.
Naturally, they’d all swooned, and now—Lace chuckled to herself—Inez was not only going to get a lot of extra “care” and attention from this team, but every time the little girl was here, they’d personally escort Lace to Inez’s side.
Even for the treatments of which Vincent hadn’t yet been apprised.
Right. Lace thought she had it bad, but what she’d been told regarding Inez, nearly had her weeping. She knew that the additional step Inez was undergoing was all for the little girl’s good, but that didn’t make it any easier to swallow.
It also doubled down on the anger inside Lace. How could anyone, foster parent or social worker, be allowed to treat a six-year-old—or anyone for that matter—so callously?
Lace was just happy she’d been given permission to hold the little girl’s hand through the worst of it. She’d wanted to be involved somehow, just like Vincent was by being his clown-self, and now she felt as if she was doing a small part.
As Lace walked back to where the man in question was still entertaining an ever-growing group of children, she watched as he interacted and didn’t let even the slightest inkling show of how difficult he must find it to keep a happy face.
That made Lace realize that she needed to slow her expectations. Not end them. Nope. Vincent had made it clear he wanted to hang with her. But Lace also knew that Vince was a good guy with a big heart who stepped up when he felt there were things confronting him that he could “fix”.
That’s most likely what he was doing with her, and she didn’t want to be fixed.
She wanted him choosing to be with her.
But…
There was no way she should be imagining Vince and her future in the same breath.
Even though he’d professed his interest—which he’d assured her was not just his support—once he started digging into what was ahead for her with her stage three diagnosis, he might smarten up and beg off.
But that worry wasn’t pertinent to the new information she now had about Inez, so she tamped down her own personal concerns, and got back to logistics.
Lace wanted to tell Vincent all about Inez, but she also didn’t want to interrupt the fun he was currently dishing out.
The kids were having such a ball.
She paused ten feet away from the spot where he was doing his entertaining, and while she waited for a break, she happened to look over at her IV pole.
Lace sighed, then glanced at the clock. Of course.
On a day when she wouldn’t have minded if chemo lasted a little longer, she saw that she only had a few more minutes left with her own infusion.
She needed to go back to the adult suite pretty much immediately to get un-attached, and she had to let Vince know.
Catching Inez’s eye, Lace indicated that she needed to speak with the clown-act-in-session, and Inez, understanding, immediately leaned forward and pulled on Vince’s big sleeve.
She said something Lace couldn’t catch, but after the exchange, Vince finished his current trick of making pennies rain from one small patient’s nose, then turned to her, raising his bright blue eyebrows.
“I have to go back,” she told him softly, indicating her nearly empty bag-of-bane.
“Okay. I’ll come see you as soon as I’m finished here,” he returned quietly.
“Take your time,” Lace told him with a smile. She didn’t want any of the kids to be disappointed if he truncated his act.
Lace gave a wave, then walked the hall back to her infusion area where she took a seat.
What she didn’t expect, when her nurse of the day, Giliana, began the process of capping her off, was the woman’s giggle.
“I think your clown is cute,” she said, as she efficiently did her job.
“Oh. He’s not my…”
Ah, hell. Why not? If it made Lace feel all warm and fuzzy inside that the nurse thought they were together, why not go for it?
“He’s actually even cuter under the make-up and costume,” Lace amended, and hoped she wasn’t telling a lie. He could have a bad case of snake-skin, or an overflowing gut beneath those robes.
But she doubted it.
With Vince cockiness, everything pointed to the fact that he was probably blessed with a very pretty face, and a rockin’ bod.
Lace just needed to find out for sure.
Maybe she’d get the chance.
Outside of the hospital.
Aaand…there she went again. Spiraling into fantasy. Except—please God—can this one be real?
Vince had truly acted like he wanted to get to know her better. The only question was, why? If it wasn’t for that gotta-fix-stuff attitude he gave off, then what was it?
She looked like hell these days, and wasn’t exactly what anyone would call, “a catch”.
If Vince barreled his way into her life right now, he’d see weeping, short-temperedness, and a bunch of bodily insecurities that had really only recently begun to register as Lace contemplated losing one or both of her breasts.
Dammit.
Why couldn’t they have met before?
Oh, yeah. She’d already gone over that in her head. It would have sucked even harder.
Because then he would have had to stick around, since—from her experience knowing Buck—a Sothard was all about honor and all that entailed.
If he’d already been onboard prior to her diagnosis, Lace would never have known if it was his choice to stand by her, or if he’d been doing it out of obligation.
A least now Vince could dip his toes into what it meant to be with a cancer patient, with his eyes wide open.
Maybe he was strong enough to handle it. Maybe not.
Time would tell.
Of course, it helped boost Lace’s belief that maybe he could weather the storm, in the way he wasn’t shying away from all those adorable but bruised-eyed, bald-pated youngsters down the hall. That said a lot about his character.
Maybe, just maybe, he’d stick around with her. But Lace was being selfish here.
Her woes were nothing compared to Inez’s, and she shouldn’t even be thinking about them.
Lace was a grown up. She was used to dealing with disappointments and unexpected blows.
The one where she’d lost her grandparents too early had been the hardest, by far.
Even more so than the cancer. But through it all she’d managed to keep on with her life, and her job, because she had one good friend.
Inez had no one, and cancer on top of that shit-sundae that she’d been served. The thought made Lace want to cry. Why did life suck so badly sometimes? And, once again she asked herself, what more could she do to make things a little better for Inez?
“Thanks, Giliana,” Lace told her nurse once her port had been liberated. “I have one more thing to ask.”
Lace went on with an appeal she knew might sound strange, but Giliana didn’t blink.
“I’ll see that your request is approved,” she said without hesitation.
“Thanks,” Lace responded, relieved. “And now…do you mind if I hang out here for just a little while? Vincent is supposed to come back.”
“Oooh, girl. You take your time. And if you can get him to drop those robes and show us what’s underneath, I’ll make you a promise. On my honor, your next infusion will be chocolate flavored.”
Yup. Everyone knew her weakness.
Lace laughed at the absurdity, but immediately pictured herself as one of those overflowing chocolate fountains, with melted brown yumminess spouting from her fingers to cascade down her naked body.
Mmm. Did Vincent like chocolate, and would he lick—?
“Hey. You’re looking pretty chipper for someone who was hugging the porcelain just a few hours ago.” Vincent’s voice broke Lace out of her trance.
She nearly choked on her own spit, but managed to clear her throat.
“Uh, just thinking of stopping at Dunkies on the way home for a large, hot chocolate,” she lied. No need to let him know where her mind had really been, or that she wouldn’t be making that stop because…bus.
“Seriously? In the ninety-degree heat of August? Do they even sell that shit in the summer?”
“Of course they do,” Lace responded with some manufactured, but humorous indignation. “Chocolate doesn’t observe seasons.” She managed to look appalled. “Don’t tell me you’re not a chocolate person, because if you do, I’m not sure we can be friends.”
Vince held up both hands. “No. No. I love the stuff. But this time of year, I prefer mine as ice cream.”
Lace lit up. “Oooh. Now that sounds really good. Maybe a stop at Giffords on the way home…” Dream on. The bus situation put a kibosh on that, as well.
But, holy shit. When was the last time she’d felt like eating anything right after chemo? Like, never? It must have something to do with having purged her stomach earlier.
Now, she really wanted to feed her inner sugar-freak.
Too bad it wasn’t in the cards.
“We could go together,” Vince suggested. “I mean, it would give us a chance to talk about Inez, in private.”
“It would,” Lace agreed, excited.