24. Chapter Twenty-Four
Chapter Twenty-Four
Stephen
Ihead straight for my mother’s room. It’s only as I’m standing outside her door that I realize how thrilled my parents will be to learn of Landon’s existence. If he’s mine. The coveted grandchild, one they’ve already spent some time with, a child my father once suspected could be mine.
I need another DNA test before I say anything to anyone.
Celia could have let me think Landon was mine to get my blood.
Maybe Raul’s blood type is also rare. All I have is suspicion, not proof.
If I’m going to accuse anyone of anything, I need to be certain.
There’s already one DNA test on record that says he’s not mine.
Maybe that’s the truth and Celia’s expression in the waiting room is the lie.
The whole scenario is mind-boggling, and my brain feels like a pinball, zigging and zagging from one thought to another. Mine. Not mine. On an endless back and forth. I’m afraid to believe in either direction with my head and heart.
Unlike Landon’s room, there are four curtained areas with a bed in the room my mother is in. I peek around the last curtain, and my sister rises. But she doesn’t look relieved to see me.
“Who’s with Dad?”
“Rachael. Has someone been in here to see her?”
“Once. Just to tell us she broke her hip and to give her some pain relief.” Vanessa glances at our mother. “Whatever they gave her knocked her out, but at least she’s not in pain anymore.”
“Surgery?” I ask.
“Yeah,” Vanessa says, swallowing. “And then round-the-clock care. I don’t know…” She wrings her hands. “We’re already stretched so thin.”
I lean against the window and draw the curtain tighter around my mother’s bed.
The murmurs of other conversations are all around us.
Exhaustion is starting to fall over me like a sticky, annoying coating.
The questions I have are endless, but I can’t ask them all tonight, especially not with other ears in the room. Still, I can’t help one.
“Did you hear that Raul Santos was in a car accident?”
She gives me a sharp look. “Why would I care if Raul Santos was in a car accident?”
“The car was also carrying Ava and their son, Landon.”
The color drains from her face, and I mutter a curse. I give Mom a long look, but she’s clearly sleeping. “In the hallway, now,” I say, my voice pitched low.
Vanessa scoots around the curtain and into the hallway with me hot on her heels. Instead of staying in the hall, though, I lead her to the stairwell. As soon as we’re alone, I whirl on her. “Did you have anything to do with the accident, Van?”
“Why would I have something to do with their car accident? Are you hearing yourself right now? I was with Mom and Dad.”
“Ava and Landon almost died. They almost fucking died. Ava’s still in surgery with a collapsed lung. If you had something to do with—”
“I didn’t, Stephen. I’m not out here trying to murder women and children.”
“Maybe just your boss, then?”
“No!” She straightens and stares me down. “No.” She crosses her arms. “Why would you even think any of this?”
I could tell her what I know, but I’m not sure I trust her. The realization makes my blood run cold. “Why were you late getting home after the nurse cancelled?”
“Dad told you?”
“Mom was on the floor for an hour. In pain. Where were you?”
“Obviously I wouldn’t have done that on purpose.”
“Where were you, Vanessa?”
“I was at a job interview, okay? A shitty job interview for a position as an underground parking attendant in Rockdown.”
“A job interview at this time of night?”
“With their night-shift supervisor. But I couldn’t leave before I had my interview because we need the money. There. Are you satisfied? I didn’t try to murder anyone.”
I stare at her for a beat. She looks earnest, but I’m not sure I’m convinced. What Dad told me, what Datu told me. “I still have connections. I can get the cameras checked from Rockdown to our house. If you’re lying, I’ll know.”
“Check them,” she says. “Then you’ll know.”
I shake my head, torn. I want to believe her, which is a dangerous position to be in.
It means my judgment is compromised. She’s my little sister.
“If I find out you did have something to do with what happened tonight,” I say, “you will no longer be welcome in my house or my life. Maybe. Maybe I could understand Raul, but being so careless with Ava and Landon is unacceptable. Do you understand?”
Color leaves her face again, but she gives a sharp nod. “If you don’t believe me, check.”
“No, I’m not going to. I’m trusting you, Van. That’s what I’m saying. You break my trust right now, in this moment, there’s no going back.” I search her expression, but she’s rock solid.
“Are you done accusing me? Can we talk about what we’re going to do about Mom now?”
I let out a deep sigh, and I tell her about the conversation I had with our father earlier. “I don’t love it,” I admit, “but I can’t deny that he made some good points.”
“The doctor told me that as soon as they have a surgery spot open, they’ll take her in. It’ll be within the next twenty-four to forty-eight hours. But I mean, after the surgery, I’m just not sure.”
“Do you want to call around to the assisted-living places to get prices and availability? Otherwise, I can.”
“No, I’m not working. I can do it.”
“With Raul so badly injured, I’m not sure when your strike will be resolved.”
“His board of directors can negotiate with us if he’s not able,” she says, her tone breezy. “Raul Santos has been the one stonewalling us.”
Suspicion flutters, but I lock it down. I told her the consequences of lying, and so I can’t let distrust filter in through every crack when she hasn’t broken my trust.
“Ava and Landon are going to be okay?” she asks. “You were pretty close to them during your assignment with the family.”
Close is a gross understatement, but I don’t even know where to begin to explain all the intricacies of my feelings for both of them. “Ava was still in surgery, last I heard. Landon is badly injured but stable.”
“I guess you’ll be working tonight, with the accident.”
“I can stay with you and Mom for as long as you need.”
Her lips twist, and she gives her head a little shake. “We’ll be fine without you. We do that a lot.”
There’s a retort on my lips, but I hold it in.
Her behavior tonight makes me realize that Dad is right.
She is becoming different. Bitter. Unhappy.
The opposite of who she was growing up, even when our parents had nothing but their good health.
The stress of looking after our parents, worrying about me after my accident, trying to make ends meet, the conflicts with her employer—any one of those things would probably be enough to level many people.
Somehow, she’s held it together, but she’s starting to fray at the edges.
Maybe that’s what I’m seeing and sensing. Exhaustion, not duplicity.
Whether to stay with her and my mother or go to Landon and Ava tears me in two. I told Gage I’d be back. If Landon is my son, I should be at his bedside, even if no one knows I belong there. But if he’s not mine, then I’m leaving my family in a time of need for work.
“Just go,” my sister says. “I can tell you’re not really here with us.”
“There’s a lot you don’t know,” I hedge.
“You could try telling me,” she says. “Staying here. Supporting Mom. Helping me make a decision about care homes. Those are all things you could do.”
“I’m not asking you to make that decision alone. You shouldn’t. We need to talk about that as a family. But there are other things… I will still be in the hospital, but I need to deal with the fallout from this accident.”
“Work first,” she says. “I get it.”
“Yeah,” I say, pointedly, “I suppose you do.” With a sigh of frustration, I rub my temples. “You’ll text me if she’s going into surgery or if she needs me?”
“Sure,” Vanessa says.
Our mother will understand why I put work first tonight, even if my sister doesn’t. “I will explain all of this to you later,” I say.
“I won’t hold my breath,” Vanessa says. “We’ve all learned to keep our own counsel.”
I let out a huff of frustration, but I don’t stay to argue with her, exiting the stairwell and heading back to Landon’s room.
She’s not wrong. Taking the job with Owen all those years ago meant that Ava and Celia couldn’t reach me, but it also meant I put up a barrier with my family. They heard from me when I remembered to reach out. There was no two-way communication.
My accident made things more complicated because I couldn’t talk about what happened, where I’d been, and why I returned, so I’ve held myself aloof. Putting a permanent roof over everyone’s heads and making sure they had the materials to survive was all I focused on.
Tonight has made me realize I’ve been avoiding the emotional work. Hiding from it, maybe. If I looked too closely at how things have been going, I may have realized, as my father has claimed, that I’m not happy. None of us are.
And that makes me feel like a massive fucking failure. What am I doing if none of my choices have made my life or their lives better? How long can you live in misery with the carrot of happiness just out of reach?
If none of these choices have gotten me where I want to be, maybe it’s time I start making different ones.