Close Match

by Jerald, Tracey

“I should go find Char to make sure she’s okay,” I murmur out loud.

  “She’s fine.” I jump. Water threatens to spill over the side of the tub at my sudden movement.

  “Monty.” My voice comes out somewhere between a plea and a prayer; which is merely a reflection of what my heart feels when I first see him. As I take in his dark hair and chiseled jaw, I’m swamped with love. I never knew I could feel even a fraction of the way I do for this man.

  He takes a drink from the glass he’s holding before setting it on top of the vanity. Reaching behind his neck, he grips the back of his sweater and tugs it over his head. His head pops out, and his gaze returns to mine in the dimly lit room.

  Toeing off his shoes, he doesn’t speak a word as he makes swift work of his pants, socks, and boxers. Picking up the glass, he moves toward me, his cock jutting upward, but it’s the look in his eyes that traps me in place. I lick my lips involuntarily at the devastating sight. I’m helpless at the crippling combination of strength, faith, and devotion that emanates from him. The love he has for me leeches all of the doubt from my mind about whatever lies on the road ahead for us. After all, people aren’t perfect, so why should love be? I shove all my doubts aside, instead focusing on the fact that he’s here and he’s mine.

  Rising to my knees in the slippery tub, water sluices away from my body, but bubbles cling to my skin. I hold out my arms to this man who isn’t perfect but has become embedded in my skin, my bones, my DNA. If this bone marrow transplant works for my father, it’s as much Monty going into him as me, I think whimsically as his hard body pops the tiny bubbles between us.

  His hand smooths over my skin slowly. “Are you trying to shed your skin like a snake with the water that hot, baby? I mean, a few more degrees and I could probably skim off the bubbles and sell the bathwater as l’essence de Linnie.” His tone is wry, but his face is wreathed in concern.

  “I was cold and hurting,” I explain softly.

  Nodding solemnly, he lets me go briefly. Moving near the head of the tub, he swings his long legs over the side so he can slide in behind me. “C’mere.” Holding his arms open, his chest is exposed, calling for me to lay my head on it.

  I fall back against him and nuzzle close. Sighing, the whooshing of the water around us sets the rhythm for the beats of our hearts, slow and steady. “How’s Char?” I ask.

  “Surprisingly calm. Either she should be on the stage with you, or she’s at peace with what’s going to happen tomorrow.” His hand tangles in the hair I twisted up earlier, causing the loose knot to fall. Tipping my head back, I look back at the man who has become everything to me in such a short amount of time.

  “And you?”

  Sliding his hands to my waist, he pulls me astride him. My breath catches as my breasts nestle against the scratchy hair of his chest when he sits up against me. Water splashes over the sides. Neither of us gives it any attention. “I sleep, and I hold a miracle in my arms, one sent straight from the stars. I know it’s going to be fine.”

  I drop my forehead until it touches his. “No pressure,” I manage to get out.

  “Baby, look at me,” I lift my lashes, and they brush against him as I do just that. “Ev made this choice. His doctors recommended this option, but it was his choice. You are the closest match he will likely ever find. Spellman said that to all of us.” He takes a deep breath I can feel against my chest and lets it out. “That makes it the greatest chance he will ever have. You know your father—he’s as analytical as they come. Do you think he’d be satisfied with for now when he can have forever?” I can see how difficult it is for Monty to get the words out.

  “But what if it doesn’t work?” I voice my greatest fear. Because if it doesn’t, it’s not just my pain I’ll have to absorb. It’s Char and Monty’s. And they’ve loved Ev for so long. I don’t know how I’ll survive their disappointment.

  How I’ll survive Monty turning away and breaking my heart when he realizes I’m not a hero, I’m just me.

  “I don’t know,” he admits honestly. A knife of pain slices through my heart. “I do know I’m grateful you’ve forgiven me for not telling you the truth.”

  I shake my head. “It wasn’t yours to share. I understood.”

  A soapy hand pushes my hair away from my face. “Still. It wasn’t my choice.”

  No, I don’t imagine it was. Cupping his face, I brush a kiss across his lips. A low hum of pleasure emits from his throat. My soul sighs. Since the first time we made love, Monty hasn’t hidden a single reaction from me. “This isn’t another thing to carry guilt about, Montague.” The pleasure turns to a growl at the use of his full name. I smile against his lips before retaking them, this time tracing the seam with my tongue. He parts them to let me inside.

  Our tongues duel back and forth in a slow dance. Steam billows up around us as we continued to convey everything in our kiss: fear, apologies, acceptance, and love.

  Monty’s hand slides from the curve of my hip up my slick skin to play with my breast. Cupping its heavy weight, he thumbs the nipple back and forth slowly as I grip his shoulders. Ripping my lips away from his, I suck in some of the humid air. “Monty,” I whisper.

  “Are you too sore from earlier?” he murmurs. Wordlessly, I shake my head no. “I need you, Linnie. I need you to stop the dreams tonight.”

  “Yes.” Sliding my hands down, I find his flat nipples and tweak them. Monty lets out a harsh groan.

  “Or maybe like this?” I ask as I duck my head and take one of the dark nubs into my mouth and suck. He bellows out a strangled “Aah!”

  In the dark bathroom, as our bodies grasp for one another, we touch and share our strength. We kiss and share our hearts. I’m taken with a single thrust but give everything. There are no roles. I’m just me, but to him, I am everything.

  I’m close to the edge. I know I’m going to soar high. The water we’ve splashed out of the tub has likely flooded the floor of the bathroom, but I can’t care. Monty’s fingers are working their magic on my clit, his mouth furious against my neck. So, I’m shocked when he pulls me down and holds me hard against his hips. His lips take my ear into his teeth and graze it before he speaks.

  “You and I will be lost and found a thousand times before this is all over, Linnie. What’s ahead isn’t going to be easy,” the deep timbre of his voice says softly. My head lifts. I’m trapped not only by the strength of his arms but by the conviction of his words. “I promise you: we’re strong enough to last through the worst of this. This love we’ve found will survive anything.” He thrusts up hard against me, the heat of him jettisoning into me, his promise warming me from the inside out.

  At that moment, I dive after Monty over the edge. My whispered “Yes” is a vow to him.

  After, as I rest on his chest, he reaches for the drink he placed on the floor earlier, and my anxiety starts to seep back in about tomorrow, about all my tomorrows. But then I remember his vow—my vow—and I settle against him in the lukewarm water and dream, not knowing the pledge would be something I’d need to cling to in the most desperate darkness that would soon follow in the upcoming weeks and months ahead.

  Sixty-One

  Montague

  I’m shaking in the dark as I hold her. If I didn’t need to drive in the morning, more than the amount I drank earlier would be warming my stomach. Part of me wants to vomit it all up. I replay my conversation with Ev over and over in my head while Linnie sleeps restlessly at my side.

  “Monty, I want you to know I’m so proud of the man you are.” Ev’s weak voice had me leaning against the desk in his office for support. I got my legs under me enough to get to his liquor as he kept talking. “So strong throughout all this; so strong for your Mom, for me, for Linnie. I don’t know what I did in this life to deserve you, but I thank the Lord every day for it.”

  “Don’t.” I wince, knowing I don’t deserve his praise but his condemnation. I’m so weak inside where it counts, I’m surprised I haven’t buckled under the weight of my b
urdens. My mind has no idea how to handle what’s happening, but I can’t admit it because to do so is to show weakness I can’t admit to.

  They need my strength, the illusion of it, even if it doesn’t really exist. So, I keep silent all the while screaming in pain.

  My mind’s as broken as my heart right now as I recall Ev talking about how he knows if the worst happens, he can rely on me to take care of Char and Linnie. Absolutely, I assured him—without a doubt.

  Take care of Linnie.

  Ev’s words seem to be stuck on repeat in my head. From the beginning, I’ve been drawn to her, protective toward her. She’s worth everything, even the things I can’t figure out how to give to her. Ev thinks I need to give her strength, but the reality is she gives it to me. I’d be drowning in a puddle if not for her tampering down my need. But this woman? She makes me want to try.

  Rolling over slightly, I lift a trembling hand to her glorious mane of hair. We leave in just a few hours so they can prepare her for surgery. If fortune shines on us, we’ll be back here tomorrow night while Ev will rest in preparation to receive the miracle this woman is about to deliver.

  Sixty-Two

  Montague

  I’m terrified right now. The doctors performing the aspiration just left, letting us know that Linnie’s in recovery, but she’s not breathing well. Her oxygen levels aren’t stabilizing the way they want them to. Mom’s clutching at me, leaning on me, when a phone in my left pocket starts to vibrate. I frown and pull away. It’s Linnie’s cell. She didn’t want to include it in her personal belongings, so she handed it to me.

  Pulling it out, I check who could be calling, and my breathing accelerates. I press the small green button as I step away from my mother. “Yes?” I growl into the phone.

  “Monty? It’s Simon. Is Linnie there? Bristol wants to talk with her. We had the baby and…”

  “Linnie’s a little busy right now.”

  “Look, I know what’s going on. Bristol told me.” I move farther away from my mother so she can’t hear me rip a new asshole into someone she welcomed into her home.

  “Did she tell you about the surgery being today?”

  There’s a sharp inhale on the other end of the line. “What surgery? I know she was going to donate some blood or something to help him out.”

  A bitter laugh escapes. “It’s a lot more complicated than that. Linnie went under anesthesia today to donate her bone marrow for Ev.” The words get stuck in my throat. “We just got word she’s having difficulty breathing now. So, when I say she’s a little busy, it’s because her oxygen rate is so low, they have a nasal cannula shoved up to keep her breathing regulated.”

  “Jesus Christ,” Simon snaps, fear in his voice evident. Through the phone, I hear the slap, slap of his feet against the floor as he runs. Presumably, he stepped out of Bristol’s hospital room to make the call.

  “I don’t think you get the full implications of what we’ve been dealing with.” I don’t realize I’m yelling until my mother plucks the phone from my hands.

  “Hello, Simon. It’s Char.” Mom pauses. “No, honey. We’re still waiting for news.” Her voice cracks. “We hate to bring such worry to you under such a monumental occasion.” She pauses again. “I’m certain she’d appreciate hearing from her sister when she’s recovered, yes. No, I’m not sure how long that will be. It was supposed to be an easy procedure. She should have been able to come home today, but now…” Mom shakes off her anxiety, which I know is rising. She plows on, briefing Linnie’s family much more calmly than I would have. My stress is through the roof over the idea that Linnie is back there incapacitated and I can’t do a damn thing to help her. “We were told during the advocate briefings Linnie’s recovery from the aspiration can take several weeks. Of course, you’re welcome to come to see her when you are able to travel. No, Ev won’t be home for some time.” There’s a long pause. So long, I begin to wonder what’s going on until I hear, “Bristol, please stop crying. I don’t think I can handle any more tears other than my own right now.” Simon must have made it back into his wife’s room and put us on speaker.

  A haze of fury envelops me. “Give me the phone, Mom,” I demand. This is not what she needs right now. None of us do. I need to be focused on saving the core of our family before we’re incapable of keeping it safe any longer from the cancer trying to kill it.

  Literally.

  She delicately wipes her lashes. “We’re so happy for all of you, Bristol. Our congratulations to you. I’ll be sure to tell Linnie about her nephew when—” Mom’s voice breaks. “—she’s awake in recovery. Bye for now, honey.”

  Even as Mom’s handing me back Linnie’s phone, I’m demanding, “I was fine. Why didn’t you let me…?”

  “Because, Monty, you’re so angry because things aren’t going well with Linnie. You’re looking for someone to take your frustration out on, but Bristol and Simon aren’t it. Linnie’s family is important to her,” Mom scolds me gently.

  “My way would have made me feel better,” I mutter.

  “For now, because you’re worried about Linnie and Ev. Later, you would have regretted it.” She pats my arm.

  Sighing, I ask, “Think anyone would mind if I take the flask in my jacket and whip it out?”

  Mom laughs, thinking I’m joking. I’m not. If I don’t suck back something to calm my nerves soon, I’m going to storm through the doors of the recovery room and take out my fury on the unsuspecting hospital staff. “If you have things under control here, I’m off to find some coffee. Do you want some?”

  “Sure. Thanks, Mom.” I kiss her brow. After she disappears, I reach into the inner pocket of my coat and yank out the leather-encased flask. Unscrewing the top, I tip it up to my lips. The vodka goes down smooth. Not knowing what lies ahead, I don’t drink the whole thing. Recapping it, I slip it into my pocket only to meet sets of shocked eyes. Slowly, people who had been sitting next to Mom and I begin standing and moving to chairs in the far corners of the waiting room. They begin whispering among themselves while looking at me.

  Crossing my arms over my chest, I glare at them.

  Only one has more audacity than the others. He plops in the seat next to me, and I mean mug him. He holds up his hands. “Dude, I was just wondering if you think I could get one of those at the gift shop.”

  “I brought this one from home.” And I should have brought more than one, I think hazily as the vodka begins to trail warmly through my system.

  “Yeah, you look like the kind of guy who might have had a backup plan.” My eyes narrow. What the hell does he mean by that? But before I can ask, he gripes, “Should have thought to have brought one of my own with the crazy-ass lunatics from my wife’s family who just had to come with me.”

  I grin at the older gentleman before telling him regretfully, “Sorry, I don’t think they sell them downstairs.”

  “They damn well should,” he mutters, giving a loud group of people a few feet away a mild sneer.

  As I think about Linnie fighting for her breath which comes so smoothly when she sings, or even how I cause her to lose it when I kiss her, I don’t disagree with him in the slightest.

  Beads of sweat start to pop out as I wonder how long it will be before they let me back to see her.

  * * *

  “Monty…”

  “Are you sure you’re up to call your family back?” She’s safe and in my arms. I’m stroking her long braid, and I don’t want to let her go. Six hours later, Linnie’s in a private room for the night as a “precaution.” Dr. Spellman’s even come to see her, disquieted by the fact that apparently she reacted to the anesthetic, which never came up on pre-op testing.

  Linnie assured him she didn’t fault him. “How would I have known? I’m just pleased your team was so efficient in handling it.” He patted her shoulder over and over, making sure she was all right as he explained what would happen next. Linnie’s bone marrow was being processed so it could go into her father starting tomorrow. “But I
’m confident we’re looking at a positive outlook. We’ll know within a few days.”

  Now, Linnie’s looking at the room service menu like it’s going to disappear and arguing with me about calling her sister. The relief permeating through me is enormous. When I finally got back to see her paper-white face in recovery, I was petrified.

  As if her nose is itching from 900 miles away, the phone jumps in Linnie’s hands, cutting our argument short. Linnie looks down. There’s a picture of a smiling Bristol and Simon holding baby Alex that Bristol texted. “Yeah, I’m totally up to calling her.” Quickly punching in her sister’s number, she waits for her to answer the call. “Congratulations, Bris. To all of you.” Her voice is tender.

  There’s a lengthy pause. “Stop. I’m fine. I had no idea either. I thought it would be an easy in-and-out procedure. I know we talked about it, but no one could have predicted this would happen.” Another pause. “Besides, that’s not what we’re focusing on today. Tell me about your beautiful new son.” She reaches for my hand.

  Quickly, I walk around the bed to take it. “Bristol, honey. I am so thrilled for you. You deserve this happiness. It’s a miracle you made. And stop worrying about me. Besides, you have to be just as exhausted.” A shorter pause before Linnie starts snickering. “Um, yeah. Of course you told Simon to get you cheesecake. Did he really think that your cravings were over just because Alex was born? Does he realize that now you’re a mother that he has a lifetime of being in your debt?” Linnie’s laughter is the most beautiful sound in the world. “I’m so sorry this caused even the smallest blemish on your perfect day, love.”

  “She needs to eat,” I call out. Linnie glares at me. Then her face softens.

  “No, he’s not wrong. I’m tired, hungry, and all I want to do is sleep. I imagine you’re feeling the same way.” Another pause. But when she talks again, her voice is much softer. “I love you.” Pause. “Always. And that little one had better be getting extra kisses from me. I’ll be there as soon as I can to give him a million more.” God, that sends shards of panic through me at the idea of Linnie leaving, but I tamp them down. “Now, get some rest. It might be the last night you get to sleep for eighteen years.” She laughs. “You bet your ass I enjoyed reminding you of that. To the moon, Bristol. Always.”