by Ellie Mack
Table of Contents
CHAPTER 1
CHAPTER 2
CHAPTER 3
CHAPTER 4
CHAPTER 5
CHAPTER 6
CHAPTER 7
CHAPTER 8
CHAPTER 9
CHAPTER 10
CHAPTER 11
CHAPTER 12
CHAPTER 13
CHAPTER 14
CHAPTER 15
CHAPTER 16
CHAPTER 17
CHAPTER 18
CHAPTER 19
CHAPTER 20
CHAPTER 21
CHAPTER 22
CHAPTER 23
CHAPTER 24
CHAPTER 25
CHAPTER 26
CHAPTER 27
CHAPTER 28
CHAPTER 29
CHAPTER 30
CHAPTER 31
CHAPTER 32
CHAPTER 33
CHAPTER 34
CHAPTER 35
CHAPTER 36
Roxy Sings the Blues
Ellie Mack
Published by L. McAtee Marketing, USA
Copyright © 2017
This ebook is sold subject to the condition that it shall not, by way of trade or otherwise, be lent, re-sold, duplicated, hired out, or otherwise circulated without the publisher’s prior written consent in any form of binding or cover other than that in which it is published and without similar condition including this condition being imposed on the subsequent purchaser.
Copyright © 2017 Ellie Mack
Originally published © 2012
This is a work of fiction. All characters and events portrayed in this novel are fictitious and are products of the author’s imagination and any resemblance to actual events, or locales or persons, living or dead are entirely coincidental.
Cover design: Coveryourdreams.net © 2017.
Formatting: Joseph Hunt at Incredibook Design
Other books by Ellie Mack:
Red Wine & Roses
Genre: Contemporary Romance
Julia Mathers has had bad dates, but the blind date for a New Year's Eve party takes the cake. Derek Snow, a sexy ambitious lawyer has definite plans for his future and a relationship is the furthest thing from his mind. From their first meeting, the fireworks fly as the embers of passion ignite into a blazing inferno. Until Derek's ex, a fashion model has designs of her own. As Julia works to overcome her insecurities, Derek realizes a love he cannot deny, but is he too late? Red Wine & Roses takes the reader on a treacherous journey of love, betrayal, heartbreak, and self-discovery.
Quotidiandose: 30 Days of Sass
Genre: Humor; Non-Fiction
This humorous collection of daily musings combines edgy, funny, practical, everyday reality with a dose of personal sass. There are life-lessons in the words that are applicable for everyone. An offering of motivational encouragement that is sure to brighten your day!
DEDICATIONS
For Larry
I know that God favors me because He sent you to me! In you, I have found true love, understanding, and my best friend. You fill my life with love, adventure, companionship and fun!
Thank you for never giving up on me, or on us, and for encouraging me when I wanted to quit. For all the years that I have spent pursuing my dreams of publication and understanding, you’ve been there through the crazy highs and lowly lows and I don’t know what I would do without you. I don’t know that I could have made it through the Breast Cancer without your support!
For my girls
For helping me to grow in ways I couldn’t do myself, for helping me learn what it is to love unconditionally, and understanding that verse - greater love has no man than laying down his life for another - I am doubly blessed with lovely daughters!
For your sacrifices, family nights missed, thrown together meals, spaghetti nights, and a messy house. Family is the best treasure and in you three, I have found great riches!
For my Oncological Team
I would not be here without you! Dr. Oruwari, Dr. Huq, and Dr. O’Leary and the radiation therapists! I have a new appreciation for life and what is important.
MY DEEPEST GRATITUDE
Thank you to my family and friends for their support and patience.
Writing is a solitary act, but it wouldn’t be possible without a huge support system. There are numerous people that I owe my gratitude:
Thank you to my beta readers – Christy, Cathy, Sophie, Vicki, Shellie, Kathleen, and Rhonda. Since I completely rewrote this one, I wanted multiple opinions and you ladies did not disappoint. Your comments have been most helpful and in some instances, made me laugh. To the wonderful Karen Docter, thank you for taking the time to work with me and guide me to write a better story. I hope that it’s better than the mess I had before. I know I need to work on that big W, maybe I’ll get it next time.
Thank you to my morning sprint group – Chatty Chicks. You ladies rock! Thank you to my wonderful editor – Grace Augustine. Without her, no one would want to read my messes. Joseph Hunt, master of formatting. Gabriella Pendergast at coveryourdreams.net for amazing covers.
Contents
Other Books By Ellie Mack:
Dedications
My Deepest Gratitude
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
Chapter 34
Chapter 35
Chapter 36
About The Author
One phone call can change your life forever.
I have heard it said many times and I get it. If you are a ball player waiting for that call to the majors or if you are waiting for the call that you got that job you were hoping to land. I always thought however, that most people are just being overly dramatic and using that as a cliché.
What if you didn’t get this job, but instead got a call that ended up being a better job? What if, as a ball player you never get called to the majors, but stayed in the minor leagues and ended up as a top-notch coach? What if that call was the worst thing that could happen?
It has always been my view that there are multiple paths that our lives could take. There are numerous opportunities presented to us and that one phone call bit was a bunch of hogwash.
Until today.
Until I received the phone call that without a doubt, changed my life forever.
CHAPTER 1
“Roxy, you have to come home.”
It wasn’t the first time that my sister sounded melodramatic with ‘end of the world’ news on the other end of the phone. She tended towards the dramatic in every day affairs so I’ve learned to tune out her ‘crisis alert’ tone. “You say that all of the time, Tara. I have classes and work. I have a match this weekend. I’ll come home as soon as I can.”
“No, Roxy. You need to come home now.” Her words were weak, her voice wavering.
“Tara” My frustration level was at an all-time high. At least once a week Tara called to tell me that Mom wa
s doing worse. I had a test coming up that I really needed to study for, I had an MMA match that I hadn’t trained enough; and I had job applications to put in. I didn’t have time for this additional stress in my life.
It hadn’t been a month since I was home. Granted, I wanted to see my Mom and sister, they meant everything to me. Sometimes I wished that I could live at home with Mom until I finished school, but that wasn’t practical. I had a job, classes, and a training schedule. It barely left any time for my fiancé Luke.
We were both looking forward to graduation in a few months so that our lives wouldn’t be as hectic. A few months after graduation we would be married and go on our honeymoon slash finally graduated reward slash celebrate Luke’s position with Cyberpro. Midterms were just a week away, I couldn’t go home now. “I’ll come up after midterms and then we can binge on whatever movie Mom wants to watch and catch up.”
“No Roxy, that won’t work.” Tara’s voice cracked, the crying apparent.
“Tara, the nurses know what to do. They will take good care of Mom and by next week she will be back home. You’ll see. Stop worrying, Sis.”
We were both under the strain of Mom’s battle with cancer. Tara had to deal with it first hand, but I was certainly not exempt. Did she think that I wasn’t affected by this?
“Mom’s gone.” She blurted it out, practically screaming it through the receiver.
“No.” I shook my head as if somehow it would change what I instantly knew was true. Part of me wanted to think that Tara was panicking, reacting to Mom taking a downturn after being admitted a few days earlier. I knew the situation was grave. The doctor had given her news that she could expect three maybe four months. That was two months ago. I wanted to think that maybe she had coded and the nurses came rushing in with a crash cart. I remember well the panic of that happening last time. In my heart, though, the truth of her words resonated.
“Roxy” her voice broke. “I can’t do this alone.”
I hadn’t been there for Mom when she passed. My heart sank as tears welled in my eyes. My baby sister needed me now. I regretted every time that I put off going home on a whim, every time she had asked me to come that I chose to stay. I could have gotten other jobs. Hell, I could take another semester if I needed to. Why had I been so selfish?
“I’m on my way Tara. Just stay put. I’ll be there as fast as I can.”
Mom was all we had besides each other. Dad, well that was another story for another time. I didn’t want to think too much about him. As quickly as I could, I threw some clothes into my suitcase and zipped it up.
The loneliness, the piece of my heart that was already missing, left a burning sensation like a deep cut. One that didn’t bleed right away but kind of split open in slow motion with a single bead of blood welling to the surface a microsecond before the pain registered and blood poured out. . . a cut that would leave a nasty scar forever. Swiping at errant tears, I grabbed my keys and purse, barely remembering to lock the apartment.
I couldn’t survive without Mom. She was my rock, my friend, my advisor, my everything. I was closer to Mom than I was to my sister, Tara. We were opposites, Tara and I, like night and day. I could talk to Mom. I could laugh and joke and I knew Mom would get me. I loved Tara, and at times, we could hang out and have a blast. Then there were times when she was aloof and wanted nothing to do with me.
That didn’t matter now, though. Tara was alone and she needed me. We needed each other. I knew there would be a lot of paperwork and arrangements. We had our differences, but the bottom line was we were family and family is important.
It was normally an hour and a half drive. I texted her before starting the car and told her to argue with the nurses, to demand to talk to the doctor, whatever it took for her to stay at the hospital in Mom’s room.
Tara tended to be emotional while I was the rational one. I could imagine her heading back to the house trying to find the perfect dress to bury Mom in and I would find her on the bed having cried herself to exhaustion. I also knew the house had been depressing for the last year.
Tara was forced into being self-sufficient over the past three years since Mom was first diagnosed. I taught her to drive and she had full use of Mom’s car since she could no longer drive.
While I was at college, everything fell on Tara’s shoulders. As much as I wished that it were different, I pushed for as much normalcy as possible. When I went home, I would handle the bills, go over the paperwork for insurance, and check the medical equipment, all those responsible things that didn’t register with my sister.
I felt bad for her carrying the brunt of the responsibility, but Mom insisted that I stay in college since I was so close to graduating, and focusing on my classes helped me not obsess over the situation. Plus, Mom knew our strengths and weaknesses. While she encouraged us to deal with our shortcomings, when it came down to business, she expected us to operate in our individual strengths. It had helped instill a sense of self-confidence and the knowledge that we could tackle most things ourselves, even when it wasn’t our strong suit.
Tara had enrolled in the nursing program at the community college, which was closer to Balder University, where I was enrolled, than it was to our home. We had divided the payment of bills between us over the past year when Mom’s investments ran out, but it was always up to me to make sure they were paid. I knew when the insurance approved the home visiting nurse that it was doubtful Mom would ever return to work. We held a glimmer of hope that even if she couldn’t work, she would at least be with us. Cancer doesn’t care what you hope for, though.
I drove to the north end of town to fill up at the convenience mart before hitting the interstate. Before leaving, I texted Luke, to let him know where I was. Hopefully, he would call me when he got off work and would drive up later.
A long list of things that I should do ran through my mind, but I couldn’t deal with that now. I had to get to Evanston General Hospital!
A long drive alone with my thoughts allowed time to regret my decisions. What if I had taken the semester off and stayed home with Mom? Would she still be alive? I would have at least been able to spend time with her. I could have gotten my old job back at the Italian Restaurant in town and stayed with her.
I pulled off into the rest stop and tried to call Luke again letting out a sigh of frustration when I got his voice mail. “Luke call me. It’s urgent.”
I hadn’t left him a note, hadn’t left a text, hadn’t paged him at work. This was not the kind of message that you left in a text nor have someone paged over. I threw the car in reverse and took off, screeching my tires as I shifted gears.
~~~~~
Fifty-two minutes later, I pulled up into a visitor’s spot by the main entrance of the hospital. I barreled through the doors, racing towards the elevators then to the oncology floor, running past the nurse’s station towards the room number Tara had texted me.
I stopped short just outside the door, my heart pounding in my chest. This was it. This was reality. I did not want to face losing Mom. Some small part of me thought that if I didn’t see it with my own eyes, maybe it wasn’t true. I had this inner childish hope that I was in a nightmare and if I would hear a loud noise, I would wake up. Then I would call Tara, and Mom would be talking in the background and all would be fine. That’s how it should be. Not this. Never this.
I gave myself a quick mental talk about facing reality and to stop being a hopeless dreamer as I took several deep breaths. One step into the doorway, all I could see was the curtain pulled around the hospital bed. Two steps, the end of the bed with feet visible beneath a white cotton blanket with the blue hospital name on it. Three steps and I was at the side of the bed, afraid to look down and recognize the woman in the bed as my mother. Tara was on the other side, her head down on the edge of the bed, holding a frail bluish hand.
My eyes welled with tears.
“NO!”
My body wracked with sobs as I lifted the other cold lifeless hand to my chee
k. Tara lifted her head slowly; looking up at me with such a forlorn and lost expression, it broke my heart even more. I ran around the bed to her, lifting her from her chair as we sobbed together.
It wasn’t fair. Even knowing it was coming someday, we were not prepared for the reality. Some day was not supposed to be this day or any day in the near future. At twenty-four and twenty, we were not supposed to lose our mother. Before either of us were married, before either of us had children, before either of us had even had a chance to truly live, cancer took her from us. It. Was. Not. Fair.
As I held my younger sister in my arms, my eyes clenched tightly to shut out the vision of the corpse that lay in the bed that was supposed to be my mother. It was Mom, but it wasn’t. My breath caught in my throat, feeling panicky and lost, so very lost. I turned quickly to the side, hitting the vase of flowers on the stand next to the bed rails. The vase that held a beautiful flower arrangement shattered into pieces as it made contact with the linoleum floor.
Shattered. Just like our lives were now.
CHAPTER 2
Luke walked across the steel catwalk suspended above the production floor. He was about a third of the way through his training checklist when an image on the screen below him caught his eye. Were the workers goofing off or was this company footage?
He stopped, watching over the shoulder of the technician that sat at the computer station below. He couldn’t hear what was being said, but Test subject 5 and 6 flashed across the bottom of the screen. Luke stood mesmerized for a few minutes as he watched images of the test subjects’ comparison from the beginning and progressing through weekly photo updates for the six-week trial period as indicated by the header at the top of the screen. Both individuals began as healthy athletic young men, but both seemed to age years before his eyes, taking on a gaunt, unhealthy appearance of a methamphetamine addict.