Close Match

by Jerald, Tracey

  Ev lifted a trembling hand to her hair. “You’d do that for me?”

  “Without question.” And that settled it.

  “An honor, Ms. Brogan. Truly. I saw you perform on Broadway years ago.”

  “Thank you,” Linnie says demurely, but I see the way she’s pursing her lips. I can almost hear her thoughts; we’ve become so in tune with each other. Flattery? At a time like this?

  “This is an honor, indeed. Are you visiting the Parrishes?” Spellman sits down on the edge of his desk and gestures for all of us to as well.

  Linnie defers to Ev, who reaches over and takes her hand to give it a brief squeeze. “Actually, Linnie has a much greater significance than that in our lives.”

  Spellman says, “Oh?” before crossing his arms over his chest.

  Clearing his throat, Ev admits, “This isn’t easy to say…”

  Spellman jerks back. “Ms. Brogan, if you tell me you’re pregnant with Mr. Parrish’s child, I’ve already discussed with him the chances of cord blood producing the cells he needs are going to be less effective than…”

  “Ew!” Linnie exclaims. “Seriously?” She twists in her seat with a disgruntled sneer. When we were in bed last night, I told her that Spellman was a hell of a doctor but had the social skills of a petrified turd. I burst out laughing, remembering her saying, “Oh, he can’t be that bad.” Mom shakes her head at our antics.

  “Doctor,” Ev placates while shooting me a look filled with retribution, “we have reason to believe Evangeline—Linnie—will be a close match.”

  He looks down his superior nose at Ev. “Oh? What makes you think so?”

  And hot damn, I’d give up the Caps winning the Stanley Cup again to capture the look on the good doctor’s face when Linnie says, “Maybe the DNA test proving I’m his biological daughter? We kinda thought it might be important for me to be tested.”

  I can’t restrain my grin as Spellman begins sputtering, “You…he…” But he becomes very still when they both smile—an identical smile.

  Spellman starts wheezing. And I can’t control the laughter. My mother elbows me and asks, “Can you behave?”

  “No, I’m sorry. I’ve been waiting for this day for way too long.” It just happens to be a bonus that it’s being handed to me by the woman I’m falling for who has eyes and a smile that’s identical to the father figure I’ve respected, admired, and yes, loved for years. The first time I saw it, a man handed me cupcakes for no other reason than he didn’t want me to be left out. And the last time it was directed at me with such openness, Linnie was fluttering her lashes before I rolled her onto her back this morning and kissed her good morning.

  Singularly, each of those smiles could light up the room, give power to the sun, and rejuvenate a soul. Together, I think they can perform a miracle. And by determination washing over Spellman’s face, so does he.

  Picking up the phone sitting by the side of his hip, he lifts the receiver to his ear. “I need to arrange for an immediate HLA-match testing done for Everett Parrish.” His face contorts in frustration. “No, I’m not sending them down to the lab. Have a technician come to my office. This is a VIP situation. Both he and the potential donor are sitting right in front of me.” There’s a pause. “Fifteen minutes? Fine.”

  The receiver slides off his cheek. He places it back in the cradle. “Ms. Brogan, we have VIP status at the hospital to protect patients like Mr. Parrish and yourself.” He winces a little. “I’m not going to lie and say there haven’t been breeches in the protocol where information hasn’t leaked in the past.”

  Linnie flaps her hand at him. “My relationship with my father isn’t going to remain a secret forever, Doctor.”

  “Adding additional stress during a procedure such as this could…”

  “I don’t plan on having a news conference,” she says exasperatedly. “If it comes out that I’m here, all you need to say is that I know him through a mutual acquaintance. Since our blood types were the same, I was tested to see if I was a compatible donor.”

  Spellman looks at her with something like admiration. “You know, if you ever give up acting, you’d have a great career in communications or public relations.”

  He has no idea why we all start laughing and can’t stop until there’s a knock on his door signaling the arrival of the technician,

  * * *

  “Now, please be aware, it could take weeks for us to get the results.”

  “Weeks?” I’m shocked.

  “There are many things that are done to the blood, Mr. Parrish,” Dr. Spellman explains calmly.

  “Is there anything I should do differently in the meantime?” Ev says as he rolls down the cuff to his shirtsleeve.

  “Yes, relax. Enjoy the holidays. Nothing’s going to change between now and then,” Spellman says bluntly.

  Right. Relax. I wonder how the hell that’s supposed to be possible when I look over at Linnie. Her eyes are shining with unshed tears. “No matter what, we tried, right, Ev?”

  “Right, darlin’.” He pulls her in for a close hug. “Thank you for even coming this far with me.”

  “Of course,” she replies shakily. Burying her head in his chest, I hear her say, “That’s what family’s supposed to do, right?”

  And it guts me when Ev’s eyes pass through me as he says, “They never have before, Linnie. That’s what makes this so special.”

  Turning my back, I try to modulate my breathing while absorbing the ache, the pain that never quite seems to disappear over knowing I wasn’t enough to save another person.

  No matter if it’s trying to talk them down off a ledge or give them the blood from my own body.

  Fifty

  Evangeline

  The weeks seem to fly by even as they’ve crawled. My emotions are all over the place, turning on a dime. I know why. I miss Mom with every inhale and worry about Ev with every exhale. It’s only in my heart I can acknowledge my growing feelings for Monty, that he’s what pushes air into my lungs at all.

  And it’s Christmas.

  Char has gone whole hog around the farm, demanding every building be lit up like something out of a Martha Stewart fairy tale. I’m both terrified and astounded that the men who work here bend so easily to her will. And then there’s Lorrie, who brought me a present of one of her school pictures framed after the holiday riding demonstration which her grandmother attended. Lorrie and I spent hours together over the weeks talking. She told me not too long ago, her grandmother apologized to her. “It isn’t that Grandma didn’t want to do my hair, Miss Linnie. It was that she couldn’t. She isn’t capable. It’s hard to be angry at someone who just can’t do something,” the bright young girl explained.

  Monty’s gone to the airport to pick up my sister and Simon while Ev and Charlotte finish a few things around the house. At loose ends, I decide to get in my workout while I can since I know it’s going to be a crapshoot while they’re in town visiting. It’s going to be wonderful to have them here, but there’s still going to be a piece of my heart missing. Twirling in a cutoff gray sweatshirt, I wonder what my mother would think about this. Was I judging her too harshly when I never had an opportunity to ask her about any of this? Especially when it’s led me to such happiness?

  I lunge. My voice comes out strong when I start singing another song from Miss Me.

  Can’t you see?

  His love for me is real.

  Don’t be mad at me, just feel,

  That he’s the only one for me.

  That’s when I hear a voice behind me that sends my heart soaring in a different kind of way.

  I will never love again,

  She’s my heart until the end.

  Stop trying to pretend.

  You don’t want her will to bend.

  I turn around and find Simon singing. Lounging against the doorway is a very pregnant Bristol with Monty hovering behind her. “Go on,” she encourages us both. Simon meets me in the center of the room and clasps my hand before spinning
me out and back. We fall into the easy pas de deux as we sing the refrain.

  I miss you now

  I miss you more

  Take me back to what was before

  I miss you now

  I miss your heart

  Don’t let time keep us apart

  Don’t let love tear us apart

  I end up bent back over Simon’s leg in a swoony move. Normally we’d kiss at this point, thereby ending the scene but beginning the cilantro war. Instead, he whoops and lifts me, swinging me around in circles. “Good God, I missed you.”

  “Oh, what perfect timing you have.” I hug him back hard.

  “As always, darling.”

  I laugh before I start beating him on the shoulder so I can run over to Bristol. Her stomach reaches us before I can fully get my arms around her. “Damnit, Bris. I thought I said to come only if it was safe.” I feel such overwhelming guilt. I wanted my whole family here for the holidays, sure, but not at risk to my sister or future nephew’s health.

  “Please. I wouldn’t have got on the very comfortable jet where Simon proceeded to throw back the Scotch and sodas…”

  “It was only a few,” Simon protests. Bristol’s eyes roll so far I’m afraid she’s going to pass out.

  “Is this why is your sister is pissed at her husband?” Monty comes to stand at my side. “She bitched at him the whole ride here.” He drops a kiss on my head before nuzzling his cheek against the top of it.

  “Hi,” I murmur up at him. “Oh, they’re both—”

  “Petrified to fly. So by tossing down a few, my darling husband decided to worry more about entertaining the in-flight crew than holding my hand. I might forgive him by the time Alex is born.”

  My head snaps up. “Alex? You named him and didn’t tell me?”

  Simon plants his hands on his hips and glares at my sister. “I thought we weren’t telling anyone.”

  “You forfeited that right when you told the entire crew the baby’s name, you ass. Or don’t you remember that? If it doesn’t end up in People Magazine by next week, I’ll eat healthy for a whole week,” she fires right back. This is a serious threat because Bristol has been sending Simon to Juniors for cheesecake almost nightly. Simon has the good grace to look ashamed.

  “Oops.”

  I’m shaking with laughter from the confines of Monty’s strong arms. “Better tell Marco you’re naming the baby after your dad, then, Simon. If he reads about it in People, he’s going to be pissed.”

  “Actually, it’s Alexandre Patrick.” Bristol bites her lip anxiously. “After both our fathers.”

  “That’s perfect.” And it is. Before I was able to separate everything Dad—Patrick—did for me, I think it would have been harder to accept Bristol honoring him this way. Now, I understand more because he was a good man, a good father. He just wasn’t mine and unable to work through those emotions to circle back to who we were before he died. I am grateful to him for everything he did for the time he was in my life though.

  And then in a perfectly timed entry, my father and Char walk in the studio door. “So this is where all the fun is,” Ev jokes. We all break into laughter.

  “Bris, I’d like you to meet my father, Everett Parrish, and Monty’s mother, Charlotte.” Bristol holds out her hand, and it’s swatted away by Char.

  “We’re huggers in this family, darling. Welcome. And make it Char.”

  Bristol laughs. “Thank you for having us.” She turns to Ev and before she can offer her hand, he wraps her in a quick embrace. “I don’t think I’ve been hugged by a client before,” she teases him.

  Ev tilts his head to the side. “Wait, you’re Bristol Todd?” She nods. “Linnie mentioned your name, but I never put it together until you just said that. Well, I’ll be damned. You do damn fine work.”

  “I didn’t think you’d know who I was, sir,” she says respectfully, resting her palms on her protruding stomach.

  “Your bosses have wonderful things to say about you. I’m wondering how much my portfolio is going to go down while you’re out on maternity leave,” he jokes.

  “Fortunately, I don’t have that problem,” Simon smirks. Bristol punches him in the arm, still clearly pissed from his earlier showmanship, and Char wheezes. “Oh, Lord.”

  “Here we go,” Monty mutters.

  “And Ev, Char, my brother-in-law, Simon Houde. Otherwise known as the worst kisser in America,” I tack on devilishly. Monty squeezes me so hard, I feel like my ribs are about to crack. “Hey,” I protest.

  “I don’t think your new—geez, Linnie? How do we refer to Monty? Your stepbrother? Your boyfriend?” Bristol really should have gone into acting as her voice drops, “Your lover, appreciates the idea you’ve kissed my husband in the past. Or that you’re likely to do so again.”

  If she weren’t nine thousand months pregnant with my nephew, I’d shove a cilantro smoothie down her damn throat for prodding the not-so-sleeping tiger at my back. Twisting around in Monty’s stronghold, I lay my hands on his chest. “Now, sweetheart, let me explain a few things about acting,” I begin.

  “No, why don’t I,” Simon butts in. Smoothly moving over to Char, he captures her hand and yanks her to him. Her face is shocked stupid when Simon bends her back over his arm and lays his lips on hers. Monty’s jaw drops while I shake my head at the bemused expression on my father’s face. As he swings her back up, he grins unrepentantly. “And that’s how you do a stage kiss. Thank you for your help, Char. I’m—”

  “A freaking dumbass!” I yell loudly. “Jesus, will you at least tell me you didn’t eat something repulsive before you kissed her?”

  Simon throws up his hands. “There’s nothing repulsive about cilantro.”

  Bristol and I say simultaneously, “Yes, there is.”

  Simon haughtily proclaims, “This—this is the reason I eat it night after night. To annoy the crap out of her.” He stabs his finger in my direction.

  “Where’s the closest brick of nasty-ass gorgonzola?” I threaten. Simon shudders and immediately goes to hide behind his wife.

  She shoves him aside. “You’re on your own, buddy.”

  “You’re my wife!”

  “You told an entire group of strangers our baby’s name!”

  Monty’s shaking with laughter behind me. The three of us turn on him and all yell, “What?”

  “Mom” is all he manages to choke out. He points a shaking finger in her direction.

  Char has a dreamy look on her face as she stands next to Ev. She’s being held by her husband of twenty-five years, who I know she thinks the sun and moon rise on, when she says dreamily, “I like cilantro.”

  We all burst out laughing, including Ev. “Why doesn’t everyone come back up to the house? Char has some snacks ready, and we can all get to know one another.”

  “Sounds perfect, Everett,” Bristol agrees.

  “Make it Ev, sweetheart. After all—” He sends a warm look in my direction. “—you’re family.” Guiding a still-stunned Char out the door, he leaves the four of us standing there.

  “Linnie, I never thought I’d say this, but who knew that day when you spit in that tube you’d hit the jackpot.” Raking her eyes over Monty, she adds on, “Possibly in more ways than one.”

  “I’m just as amazed as you are. Now, let’s go get something to eat.”

  * * *

  If snacks with my family were hysterical, dinner is riotous. We’re all lounging around the kitchen trading jokes back and forth. It’s a testament to how much I’ve bonded with my additional family and how wonderful they are in general. They would have made terrific parents to a houseful of kids, I think sadly.

  “What put that look on your face?” Monty asks me as I’m pulling coffee mugs down while Char is being told a story from Simon about his time in London.

  “I was thinking about how wonderful your Mom and Ev are as parents. Wondering why they never had more kids.” Placing the last mug on the counter, I lean against it while the coffee brews.<
br />
  Monty shrugs, but I see the wounds in his eyes. “I’m sorry if it’s too difficult…” I stammer.

  “No, it’s not that.” He sighs and pulls me to him. “They tried for several years. Did the whole gamut of doctors, what’s wrong, and in the end they were told it could be a combination of things. Ultimately, they decided the stress it was putting them under wasn’t worth trying anymore. So, they changed their energy to helping others.” He shakes me a bit. “That’s why I was worried at first when we heard about you.”

  “About me? Why?” And then suddenly it hits me. Because I was a child Ev had created with another woman. What would that do to Char inside? My heart crumbles when I think about how warm and gracious she’s been since the moment we first met. “Oh. Monty.” My heart hurts at the additional burden she carried.

  “Hey, none of that. She’s okay.” He swipes his thumb across my cheek.

  I reach up and squeeze his wrist. “Now I know where you get it.”

  His brow lowers. “Get what?”

  “You have this unconquerable strength that allows me to just trust you in a way I’ve never done before.” Reaching up, I pull his head down for a quick kiss. “It’s obviously inherited from your mom. For me, I spent a lot of time trying to build up that circle of trust. You were lucky to be born with it.” I brush his lips with mine one more time, then rejoin my family at the table.

  But I do stop by Char and give her an extra-warm squeeze. “What’s that for?” Her lips curve.

  “Just for being a great mom,” I tell her honestly and loud enough so Monty can hear me where he’s still standing near the coffeepot. He shakes his head before he grabs a handful of mugs.

  But it’s true. If I ever get a chance to be a parent one day, I’d like to think I’d learn from the fearlessness of my mother and the soft heart of Monty’s. I could do it with the right man, I think, my heart jumping as Monty plunks down the mugs before turning to grab the coffee. There’s no reason I couldn’t soar to the skies and cuddle on the couch. No reason at all.