CHAPTER 5
Ian
“Who pissed in your Cheerios?”
Ian took a good swig of his beer and glanced at his older brother. “Maybe you stop dealing me shit cards,” he muttered, tossing two chips on the pile.
“Nope. Ever since a certain night last month, he hasn’t been OK,” Adam said.
“Ah. That night.” Devon grinned at Jonathan. “A live wire, that one.”
Jonathan smiled, but to Ian, it looked forced.
Jon threw three chips on the pile, too. “I’m getting in on this.”
Devon looked at Ian. “How was your redhead? Going by how she was eye fucking you, I’d say you got it real good.”
Ian tossed three chips in, too. “Yeah.”
Adam gave him a long, hard stare. Finally, he frowned but said nothing, turning back to the card table. “Wow. You assholes are trying to take me out.”
Unfortunately, Devon didn’t show the same restraint as Adam. “Monosyllabic answer, from you? Something’s definitely up.” He raised one eyebrow.
Ian kept his gaze on his cards.
He had used every resource available to find Claire, to no avail. It was as if she’d disappeared off the face of the earth, and he had just about run out of ways to locate her.
This never happened to him. Ever.
He needed to change the subject and looked at Adam. “How’s Eve?”
As he’d predicted, Adam’s entire face brightened. “She’s great. Graduation ceremony is in July. I expect all of you to show.” He placed three cards on the table. “Here’s the flop.”
“You know we wouldn’t miss it.” Devon considered for a moment. “Check.”
“I’ll check,” Jonathan said.
Ian nodded. “Yeah, I’ll check.”
Adam glanced around at their faces. “And I’m gonna bet $375.”
“Fold.” Devon threw down his cards.
“I’ll fold,” Jonathan said.
Adam stared at Ian.
Ian stared right back at him. He couldn’t ever tell if his brother was bluffing. Then again, he knew Adam couldn’t tell if Ian was bluffing either. “I’ll raise you nine hundred.”
“I’m gonna have to call you.” Adam flipped over the turn card.
“You get anything on Ashley yet?” Jonathan suddenly asked.
Ah, there it was. Ian had been expecting this question. Jonathan sounded cool, but Ian knew better.
“I have.”
Jonathan’s gaze flicked to his. “And?”
“You want to hear it now?”
Jonathan shrugged. “You all were there to witness my goddamned train wreck. Nothing to hide at this point. Let me have it.”
“She’s in San Francisco. Living with someone.”
Jonathan blinked once. Then his gaze turned to steel. “Who is he?”
Oh, this was gonna hurt, and bad. He didn’t envy the guy.
Ian caught his gaze and held it. “It’s a she.”
You could have heard the proverbial pin drop.
Adam leaned back in his chair. “A roommate, maybe?”
Ian shook his head. “Negative. They’re a couple.” Adam shifted in his seat.
“Well, shit,” Devon said under his breath.
Several expressions passed across Jonathan’s face, followed by a nod and, finally, a cold stare.
“I have pictures if you want the proof,” Ian quietly said.
Jonathan shook his head. “Nah, man, I’m good. I’ll take your word for it.”
Devon slapped his back. “You’ll be better off in the long run. Better it happened now than ten years into the marriage.”
“Right,” Jonathan muttered.
He didn’t seem as upset as Ian expected. Then again, Jonathan had been a fighter pilot, so the guy’s cool demeanor wasn’t exactly a surprise.
“The next couple months are going to suck,” Ian said.
“After that, things will suck incrementally less until one day you catch yourself feeling OK. Then, things will suck again. You’ll go back and forth, two steps forward and one step back, until eventually, you’ll be out of the hole.
The guy who climbs out of the hole will be stronger and more resilient than the one who fell in it. ”
Adam gave him the side-eye. “And will fuck everything that moves, pretending to happily play the field when in fact, he’ll still be looking.”
Ian smirked. “Yeah, looking to get laid. Who needs to be tied down, when you can have variety? The spice of life, man. That’s what titillates and excites a man’s senses.”
Adam snorted. “I dare you to give that titillating bullshit speech at the annual family get-together.”
What the hell was this about? Adam knew damned well that Ian no longer sought intimacy after the woman he’d asked to marry him had flown to Rio on a supposed girls’ trip. A week later, she’d FedExed Ian her engagement ring, leaving his heart on the floor in bleeding fragments.
That was two years ago. Why would Adam believe he was looking?
Besides, this was supposed to be about Jonathan, not about him.
He turned his back to Adam, swiveling to face Jonathan. “How she went about this is really shitty. I’m sorry, man.”
Jonathan nodded. “Appreciate it.”
“Let her go.” Devon took a big swig of his beer. “Tell her you wish her the best this life has to offer. Tell her you hope she finds the peace and happiness she’s seeking. Be the bigger person. Life is short, and everybody dies in the end.”
“For fuck’s sake.” Adam glared at him, then narrowed his eyes on Ian. “Bet, already, Spice Man.”
Ian ignored the dig and pushed forward a stack. “$1,500. Let’s see ’em.”
“Pass me her contact info later?” Jonathan’s voice was soft.
“Sure thing.” Ian felt for the guy.
Here was another example of love doing major damage. He’d been there, all right. Adam was happily married now, but he’d been through some nasty stuff himself with his first wife.
Maybe he should just forget Claire and stay in his comfort zone.
He liked it there.
·
Claire
Claire moved the heavy duffel to her other hand, eyes searching the corridor as she approached the nurse’s station.
Behind the desk, a kind-faced older woman smiled. “How may I help you?”
“I’m here to see Nora Nilsen. I’m her daughter.”
After her parents’ acrimonious divorce, her mother had quickly taken back her maiden name.
“Ah, yes.” The nurse checked her computer screen. “They’re doing some tests right now, so you might have to wait outside for a bit.”
Claire nodded. “No problem.”
“She’s in 304.” The nurse pointed. “It’s that way.”
“Thank you.” Claire started down the pristine hallway, her sneaker-clad feet noiseless on the tan floor, her nose detecting the all-too-familiar scent of disinfectant.
She couldn’t believe this was happening again. Her mother’s breast cancer had been in remission for years. She’d always known a recurrence was a possibility but had hoped Mom would be one of the lucky ones.
Maybe this was something unrelated.
She passed several doors, each with a chart and name beside it. Halfway down the hallway, two scrubs-clad technicians stood, a complicated-looking machine between them. One was obviously frustrated, judging by her expression and agitated body language. “She won’t let me do anything!”
The other tech nodded. “Yup, she kicked me out too. I have blood to draw.”
“She yelled at me as soon as I walked in; she said she didn’t need anything and told me to get out.”
“The doctor should be here soon; maybe he can convince her. He wants this ultrasound.”
Claire paused behind the two techs who blocked the hallway and saw the name written in marker by the door.
Nilsen, Nora.
Uh-oh.
She glanced from the door sign to the techs, feeling a flush rise to her cheeks.
The female tech grasped the handle of the machine. “Sorry, are we in your way?”
Claire shook her head. “Actually—”
“Wait, are you a relative going in there?”
“I don’t know if I want to be,” Claire joked.
The woman didn’t smile. “Oh, thank God. Do you think you can help us? We have to get things done for her, and she won’t let us.”
No one could force Nora Nilsen to do anything. Claire had known this since she was old enough to understand the formidable force that was her mother. “I can try.”
Relief spread over both their faces. “Thank you.”
“I can’t promise anything,” she warned them, “but I will do my best.”
They nodded, and Claire stepped up to the door, squared her shoulders, and knocked.
“What part of ‘Go away’ wasn’t clear?” came her mother’s irritated voice. Claire peeked through the narrow window on the door, spotting her mom’s beautiful blonde hair.
Claire pressed down on the handle, swung open the heavy wooden door, and saw the scowl that had reduced her to two inches tall when she’d messed up as a little girl.
“I said—” Immediately, the scowl turned to a surprised smile that brightened Nora’s entire face. “Claire!”
“Hi, Mom.” Claire smiled back despite her shock at how much weight her mother had lost since she’d last seen her.
“What … I can’t believe this! You’re here!”
“I am. You know I never miss your birthday.”
“That’s tomorrow.”
“I thought we’d get an extra day.”
Claire made her way to her mother’s bedside, trying to hide her dismay at just how gaunt her mother looked. She seemed to have aged ten years since she’d last seen her at Christmas.
Her beautiful, tall, glamorous blonde mother. Obviously, she had been sick for some time.
Why hadn’t she said anything? Whenever they talked on the phone, all her mother had told her was good news and gossip.
“I can’t believe you’re here either.” That was as much admonishment as she dared.
Her mother waved dismissively. “I’m fine. I shouldn’t even be here. Susan overreacted.”
“You passed out in the driveway, Mom. She told me she had to call an ambulance.”
“I got carried away gardening and forgot to drink water, that’s all. You know how hot it gets at lunchtime.”
Claire sighed. She kissed her mother’s cheek, placed the duffel on a vinyl-coated bench, pulled up a chair, and sat. “How are you feeling?”
“I told you, I’m fine. They gave me IV fluids.
I keep asking that handsome doctor of mine to let me go home, but he keeps putting me off.
” She grinned. “I think you should meet him. He’s tall and gorgeous and not much older than you.
I told him all about my beautiful, smart daughter.
I was going to ask Susan to bring my phone so I could show him pictures, but now that you’re here … ”
Claire shook her head. This wasn’t the first time Mom tried to match Claire with someone.
“I have your phone. I also brought your iPad, some nightgowns, and some food. Oh, and your pillow.”
“Thank you! You shouldn’t have gone through all that trouble. I won’t be here long enough to need those things.”
“Mom.” Claire kept her voice carefully neutral. “They might need to keep you a few days. There are people outside who are ready to tear their hair out. They said you kicked them out and wouldn’t let them do their job.”
Nora raised her chin. “I will not be their guinea pig.”
Claire inwardly groaned. “There’s no point in being here if you don’t accept the care they provide.”
“Exactly! That’s why I’ve been trying to get them to discharge me!”
Claire sensed movement in her peripheral vision and saw the techs anxiously peering through the door’s window.
“They really need to see what’s going on with you. How can the doctor make any decisions without the information he needs?”
“Look at my arms. They’ve been sticking me so often since this morning, I’ve lost count. At this rate, I won’t have any blood left to give. I’m done.”
Nora held out her arms, which looked painfully thin in the flapping sleeves of her hospital gown. Bruises marred her skin, and Claire felt her throat tighten.
“Besides,” Nora said, in a softer tone, “I don’t think there’s much to be done for me this time if it’s what I think it is.”
“Don’t talk like that,” Claire said. “I think there’s—”
“There he is!”
It was as if a switch had been flipped. Nora’s demeanor changed, and Claire caught a glimpse of the brave, self-assured woman Nora had been before Claire’s father had abandoned her.
She heard the door click open.
“Good afternoon,” came a strangely familiar male voice.
Claire turned … and her lips parted.
Clad in a crisp white coat with embroidery on the left chest in blue spelling out Jacob M. Lang, MD, the doctor she had met on the flight breezed in.