Command: An Everyday Heroes World Novel (The Everyday Heroes World)

by Amélie S. Duncan

  If he wanted to be my buddy, he’d have to know I’d set the rules. If he could handle it, he’d do as I told him and keep up, for a start.

  Sam Rich kept up.

  Shana

  I arrived five minutes late to Mama Bertha’s Cafe for my lunch with Mom. She surprised me by choosing the famous pancake house when she didn’t eat pancakes. Nor did she enjoy noisy eateries with tables close to each other.

  To my surprise, she was already there, sitting at a two-seater table by the open bay window with a street view with her phone stuck to her ear. On the table was her signature glass of sparkling water with a lemon wedge. Her lips turned down as she eyed me on approach. What was it this time, I wondered? I hadn’t spoken yet to warrant disapproval. Then I remembered I had on an acid-wash prairie dress with patchwork pockets and ruffle trim I borrowed from Cathy.

  “She’s here,” she said into the phone, then gestured for me to take a seat, put her phone away, and waved for the waitress without missing a beat.

  I ordered an avocado salad; Mom ordered the same.

  “Nice to see you still eating healthy,” she said in a cheery tone.

  My lips parted in shock. Hell turned to ice—she complimented me.

  “If you need clothes, I’ll make sure your dad gives you an allowance today.”

  “No. Thanks anyway,” I said and drank the water.

  Her brows pulled together. “You don’t have to be stubborn. I’m sure Mr. Matheson doesn’t want you to dress like that at work.”

  “I dress this way because of Mr. Matheson.”

  I wore the ugly dress to annoy him. He’d become a major asshole once he realized I’d never go anywhere with him alone. Of course, Mom worried about anyone but me.

  “Aaron flirts because he’s interested and really, he’s quite eligible. He’s wealthy and can provide you a good home.”

  I cringed. Ick. “Is that why you wanted to see me? To set me up with a man more than twice my age?”

  “I didn’t invite you to arrange a date. I just didn’t think age gaps were worrisome now. Aaron is active and open-minded and can still have children. I do hope you’re considering children one day. He’d probably invest in your company too. But okay. You’re not interested.”

  “Sounds like you’re giving him the hard sell. I’m still happy with my choice. Hell no,” I said and bristled at the thought of Matheson.

  She blew out her breath. “Fine. You don’t need to be vulgar or dramatic about it.” The salads arrived, and we ate in silence.

  “Is there a reason you asked to see me today?” I asked.

  “Can’t I invite my daughter out for lunch?” She averted her eyes. “Why must you always be so . . . difficult? I mean, Amber and Loren always do mother and daughter things together. They’re going to see Harry Styles in London this summer.”

  “Sounds great for them, but I don’t think we share the same music taste. Unless you’re listening to modern music instead of New Wave?” I arched a brow and hid my smile.

  “Not really.” Her eyes widened in surprise, and she laughed. “I’m still listening to my eighties and nineties favorites . . . I’m surprised you remembered.”

  My heart warmed. “Of course, I do. You and Dad bragged about being extras in Generation X.”

  She touched her flushed cheeks, smiling. “That was us—big hair and bigger earrings. I tried to get you to dress up like that when you were little sometimes.”

  “But I liked to climb trees and stay dirty,” I said, grinning.

  “Yes. I couldn’t decide who stayed messier, you or Jackson.” Her voice caught, and she dabbed the corner of her eye.

  A pang went through my chest. “Sorry, Mom.” I reached over to touch her hand.

  She batted my hand away. “I’m okay, just give me a minute.”

  We returned to our salads and silence. After a while, Mom finally spoke. “I’m ready to tell you why I . . . I asked you to come today. I have aplastic anemia . . .” Her voice hitched.

  Sweat broke across my body. “Is that serious?” I folded and unfolded my arms. Was that what Cathy had referred to last night?

  “It can be.” She visibly swallowed. “Dad wanted me to ask if you’d . . . see if you’re a match for a bone marrow transplant.” Her fingers trembled as she tore off pieces of her napkin.

  My heart shriveled. Why couldn’t Mom ask me? All the pieces came together in my mind like a puzzle. Their reason to bring me home had been for her.

  “I know you’re probably not a match, and I told him I don’t know how long you’ll stay in town. But if you do agree, I’ll make sure you get a good lawyer and business advisor—”

  “No. You’re my mom. I’ll take the test and give you the bone marrow if I’m a match. Forget the other stuff.”

  “You don’t know what’s involved.” Her hand shook as she attempted to hand me a bunch of brochures from the hospital. “It’s too much to ask someone.” She left off that the bone marrow transplant was too much to do for someone who didn’t care.

  “I’m doing it. Just set up the time, and I’ll go take the test,” I said, my voice hoarse.

  “Well, now that’s done.” She reached inside her purse and pulled out her checkbook.

  My stomach lurched. Here came the old money payoff. She never even shared with me her suffering. She didn’t want to share anything with me.

  “I need to go . . . I forgot about a Narcotics Anonymous meeting today.” My voice tremored.

  Her expression turned sour. “Yes. You should go. You need to stay drug-free for the surgery if you’re a match.”

  I fumbled in my bag and threw the cash from my wallet on the table.

  “Shana,” she scolded.

  I turned away and bumped against the table next to us. “Sorry,” I mumbled but hurried the rest of the way out the door.

  What had I expected?

  Why had I expected things to be different?

  I don’t need anything from her.

  The building that held my NA meeting was First Presbyterian Church, located a few blocks away, and I headed over on foot. With my mind racing, I didn’t pay attention to the shops and cafés as I passed, that was until my gaze focused on Pam coming out of the funeral home in front of me. My pulse jumped, and I dashed inside a shoe store and pretended to look at the shoes, while I fought to breathe and stop the nausea churning my stomach.

  Why did I hide? I didn’t do it.

  Still, I couldn’t face her. I stared out the display window in front, waving away the salesperson’s polite offer of help. When Pam finally disappeared into her SUV, I left the store and hurried the rest of the way to the church. The doors were closed but unlocked.

  A small group was already seated in metal folding chairs in front of the row of pews. The NA meeting had started, so instead of joining them at the front, I went to the bathroom located in the side alcove. There I opened a stall, crouched over the bowl, and vomited my lunch. I stood up and hit the back of the stall with my fist. What the hell did I expect? I brought that on myself, going in without any armor on. I let her coldness get to me. And coming here to NA wasn’t going to make me feel better. Hell, I didn’t want to think or feel. Why did I come here?

  Jackson’s voice was eerily silent.

  I heard the creak of the door and quickly moved out of the stall to the sinks. After rinsing my mouth, I left the bathroom and joined the meeting, taking a seat in one of the few empty chairs they always left in the circle for latecomers. They erupted in applause, signaling the person who was sharing more than likely had a “many days since I used drugs” share.

  The thin elderly man next to me in a sweatshirt and jeans reeked of cigarettes. To each his own, but I still felt sick. My eyes immediately looked for another empty chair to move to. Before I could, he rose up to share his story. While most times I thought my life wasn’t as bad, his story sounded too familiar. I wanted to tune out, but his words wouldn’t stop amplifying in my head.

  “I acted out
so many times, drinking and drugging, passing out . . . All because I wanted someone to rescue me. I wanted someone to care for and love me. But I realized that what I needed to do was rescue myself. I had to give a damn about me. I had to learn to love myself first.”

  I had to give a damn about me. Did I? Should I? My twin had died . . . and no one cared about me. But did I? I couldn’t move and remained in my seat until the end.

  After the closing prayer, a man in a pressed white shirt and khakis approached me. He had on a name tag that read Ben—Health Worker. “I didn’t get your name for the register.”

  I shook my head. “I only came at the end. I don’t know why I came today.”

  He took my information even though I hadn’t attended the full session.

  “Thanks,” I mumbled.

  “You came here when you needed to. That’s a step toward real change. Keep up the good work, Shana.”

  I wasn’t sure if I had any other steps I could make. I wasn’t sure why I was trying. I could understand what was involved in being a donor for Mom, for Dad’s sake I guessed, and then what would I do?

  Shana

  Since Mr. Matheson left to play golf, I changed into the clothes I brought with me today: a lace-trim blue floral mini dress and red stilettos. I closed the computer and had my keys in hand when my phone went off.

  “We’re hanging out today. You canceled the last time, so don’t you dare say you can’t meet up. I already scheduled Pure Bliss spa for us,” Amber spouted off quickly before I even had a chance to say hi or cancel.

  “I don’t remember agreeing to a spa. We agreed to lunch when I’m available.”

  “Come on, Shana. I have a VIP pass, and I want to make up for when things went sideways at the nightclub. I went to jail too, remember? I know how humiliating it all is.”

  I rolled my eyes even though she couldn’t see me. “You didn’t remember when the cops questioned you.”

  “My lawyer said I shouldn’t admit or answer anything. I told them you went with us, but you really weren’t there the whole time. We had dinner together before you called. I only went back home to pick something up and brought you back with me.”

  “Should I bring up the strippers and bongs? I was there. And I really don’t have much time today. I have to go to the group home. I promised one of the girls I’d help her get ready for prom.”

  “You’re turning me down to go do extra work when you don’t have to? What’s gotten into you?”

  Amber was right. Somehow these girls had gotten to me. They’d captivated me and I’d become invested in whatever excited them, including Lucy’s prom. Lucy had started talking more since the baseball game. She shared that a crush had asked her to prom, but she didn’t have money for a dress and ticket. The amount of money the group home had for the girls barely covered their room and board. Somehow each girl came up with one place or another they heard about that could cover gaps. Besides, with all the red tape and paperwork staff had to fill out to get permission, I didn’t want to disappoint her.

  “The spa won’t take that long, and you can go meet up with them after. I really want to see you, please?” she pleaded.

  I glanced at my watch. I had a few hours before I had to be there since work ended early.

  “Fine, but if it takes too long, I’ll have to walk out.”

  “Seriously?” she huffed down the line.

  “That’s my final offer, Amber.”

  “Fine, meet me there.” She hung up.

  Pure Bliss was a short drive away from the office building. After I’d parked, an SUV pulled up behind me and the window rolled down. The driver leaned out, and I recognized Evan Jensen, whom I hadn’t seen since the bachelorette party.

  His lips curled in a scowl. “The police are bothering me because of you. Keep my name out of your stupid mouth, you addict.”

  I furrowed my brows and placed my hands on my hips. “I’m not an addict, asshole. My statement listed everyone that I met at the bachelorette party and club.”

  “You never saw me. I wouldn’t have had anything to do with you.”

  “Liar. You rode in the car and . . . danced with me?” The memory surfaced of him in the van and on the dance floor.

  “That never happened, and you better stop making shit up,” he said between clenched teeth.

  I took out my phone and pressed record. “You threatening me, Evan?”

  He glared down at my hand and gunned the car forward out of the parking lot.

  What the hell was that about?

  Amber was already in the reception area when I went in. The soft lighting, calming waterfall behind the reception desk, and ocean-wave sounds relaxed my shoulders. Amber rose from one of the floating couches. Her blonde hair had a subtle, sun-bleached tint to it. Her skin looked vacation tanned. She had on a scooped shirt and skinny jeans with one too many necklaces and bracelets, and they jingled when she hugged me.

  “So sorry about what happened to you,” she said loud enough for the other women in reception to lift their heads.

  “I’m out now,” I said. At least for the time being. “I just ran into Evan Jensen. He threatened me.”

  She grimaced. “Evan’s insane. I told you some of our friends are mad. He’s only worried. His dad grilled him about it because he’s running for public office. He won’t do anything to you, especially since your dad could mess things up for his.”

  She went over to the front desk. “Please tell Sandy we’re ready for our manicures and pedicures.” I glimpsed her feet and hands. They appeared freshly done.

  “You scheduled a wax and a massage first,” the receptionist pointed out.

  “I don’t have time,” I said.

  Amber gave me a sheepish grin and massaged my shoulders. “Please. It won’t take long, I promise. I thought after you stop by for a few minutes at the group home, we could put on bikinis and take your dad’s boat out. I didn’t get a chance to ask, but I thought I could vlog for my channel.”

  I frowned. I had only had a few minutes of chatting in passing with my dad since I arrived back. The last thing I wanted to do was ask him for any favors.

  “I can’t on short notice,” I said.

  Her face pinched. “Since when? I still don’t understand why you went to jail. Did you upset him or something?”

  I shrugged and eyed the women in the waiting room, who of course were listening avidly. “Things change. Anyway, times a ticking.”

  “Fine. I’ll see you after.”

  The wax and massage were an indulgence that helped me relax. All my worries left for a while. I practically floated into the manicure and pedicure station where I rejoined Amber. She was already seated, getting a foot massage in one of the chairs. They placed me in the leather massage chair next to her and turned on the water, adding in soothing oils for my feet to soak in the basin. I had to admit, it was relaxing. Though my mind kept up the pressure that I didn’t want to let Lucy down.

  The woman dried my feet, and I placed them on the cushioned footrest. I chose a pale neutral color for my nails. Amber chose a shocking pink.

  “Come on, live a little,” she said, frowning at the color I selected. “Cabo was fun, by the way. We stayed at the same place we all did that one time we went on a family vacation together? We had such a blast.”

  Some of us did. Dad didn’t like Amber’s dad, who talked too much when Dad wanted to read. Mom, Amber, and Loren became the three princesses who shopped, sunbathed, and drank cocktails, while Jackson and I went surfing, scuba diving, and windsailing.

  I smiled at the memory. “Yeah, that was fun.”

  “So what’s going on with the case? Did they drop it yet?” she asked, her tone suddenly serious.

  I shrugged. “I’ve heard nothing so far.”

  “I can’t believe someone died that night. I mean, we were right in the room with a dead body.” She cringed. The mouth of the woman doing her nails fell open.

  Holy shit. I knew Amber didn’t have an empatheti
c bone in her body, but a girl had died that night. And all she could think about was being in the room with a dead person?

  “New subject,” I said. Otherwise, I’d get too fucking angry.

  “Juicy gossip time,” she said, her voice dropping an octave. “Brit took one of the strippers home.”

  “Good to know while I got treated like a drug mule, she was cheating on her fiancé. Classy.”

  She laughed. “That’s Brit. I mean, why not? If no one knows about it?”

  I didn’t agree or want to talk about it anymore and neither should Amber. I nodded toward the two women at the station across from us, getting their feet done. The captivated attention they had on Amber meant everyone would know soon.

  The nail stylist painted on art and added tiny rhinestones to jazz up my feet. When she was done, I had only twenty minutes left to get to the group home.

  “Sorry, Amber. I must run. Thank you, and I’ll see you later. Off to help with the prom.”

  “Already? Come on, Shadow,” she drawled out in a disapproving tone.

  “Sorry. See you soon.” I thanked and tipped the nail specialist, then left.

  After checking my car and changing into flat shoes, I realized I’d forgotten the curling iron and a copy of the permission form, just in case the original wasn’t onsite. I drove to Maeve’s, found everything on the side table by the door, and after loading them in my passenger seat, I headed to the group home.

  Before I rang the bell for the staff to let me in, I heard steps behind me, then someone called my name.

  Amber?

  “What are you doing here?” I asked but didn’t wait for her to answer. “The group home doesn’t allow unauthorized visitors. You need to leave.”

  She laughed. “Come on, Shana. You had me curious about the way you left so quickly. I didn’t get to ask if you feel like hanging out later, even if we don’t go on the boat. We could just hang out.”

  Before I could answer her, the door swung open, and Lucy came out, rushing around staff to hug me. She still had on a T-shirt and jeans. Her pink hair was wet like she’d recently showered.