I ignored the cold fear creeping through me. “Have you heard from my parents?” I asked. Thankfully I sounded calm. I didn’t feel it, not by a long shot. “Have they had their tests yet?”
Parker shook his head. “Their results haven’t come in yet. I’m coordinating with the head of Oncology at your mother’s hospital, but there’s been a delay in the processing.”
I ground my teeth. “Of course there has,” I growled.
Seriously, if I could, I’d kick Fate in the arse right now.
“Tanner’s a—”
“Fighter?” I finished for him. My knuckles creaked as I balled my fists. Was it wrong to be sick of hearing how much a fighter my son was?
“Bren.” Amanda’s warm hand closed over the back of one of mine. “Being angry doesn’t help,” she said, the words kind. “Trust me, I know.”
I stared at her. She did know. She’d ridden this rollercoaster for over a month now. Me, I’d only been on it for a day. If I was ready to splinter under the pressure, how was she even functioning?
As if seeing the confusion, grief and bitter rage war on my face, she leaned towards me in her chair and pressed her hand to my jaw. “You are strongest when you’re not angry, babe,” she said, a small smile playing with her lips. “You’re like the anti-Hulk that way.”
My Adam’s apple slid up and down my throat as I swallowed. Holding her gaze, I let out a slow breath and nodded. “What now?” I asked, turning back to Parker.
Sympathy and sorrow swam in his eyes. “For now, you both go be with your son. Enjoy his life, his smiles. Enjoy him. I’m going to put out another call to the donor bank. You never know, a donor may have registered late last night. People do unexpected things in the wee hours of the morning.”
That was true. I’d bought a one-way ticket to LA in the middle of the night, only thirty-six hours ago.
Amanda and I went to stand, but Parker cleared his throat.
“Before you go . . .” He closed his eyes, and raked a hand through his hair. “Before you go,” he began again, opening his eyes to level us with a steady stare, “I need to tell you, Amanda, that your father is pressuring the hospital to do the transplant using Robert Aames’ bone marrow.”
My blood turned cold. “What the . . . ?”
Amanda froze. “He what?”
Parker sighed, disgusted. “One of his students is the daughter of one of our board members, and she thinks he walks on water. He’s using that leverage to pressure the hospital into saying you’re not fit to be Tanner’s legal guardian. From what I understand, he’s also started legal proceedings to be named as Tanner’s legal guardian instead.”
Amanda burst out laughing. Parker blinked. I gaped at her. She stood beside me, eyes closed, hand on her belly, shaking her head, laughing. A completely loud raucous laugh. And then it became something else. Something . . . angry, brittle.
“Jesus fucking Christ.” She shook her head some more, wiping at her eyes. “I don’t . . .” She pressed the back of her hand to her mouth and looked up at me.
A dark hate sliced through my chest at what I saw in her eyes: defeat. Utter defeat. Professor Charles Sinclair, her father, the man who was meant to care for her, protect her from hurt and grief in any way he could, was destroying her. When she was at her most vulnerable, he was ripping her apart.
I wanted to kill him. Plain and simple, I wanted to kill him.
“Can he do that?” I asked Parker. If I didn’t ask a question, if I didn’t focus on the legality of Charles’s callous intent, I have no doubt I would have left the hospital, caught a taxi to the Sinclair’s house and beaten the crap out of him. For a horribly enticing moment I even saw him opening their front door, recognition filling his face a split second before my fist smashed into his jaw . . .
I fixed my eyes on Parker, my pulse wild, waiting for the answer to my question.
“He can.”
At Amanda’s broken whisper, I turned to her. There wasn’t a sign of laughter, not even angry laughter, now. The defeat in her eyes had leached into her face. She was sitting again, her spine stiff, pinching at her thumbnail.
“He can,” she repeated, a little stronger now. “But it’s a lengthy process. He has to prove I’m unfit to be Tanner’s parent.” Her lips moved into a sad smile. “And now you’re here, he’d have to prove you are as well.”
I dragged in a slow breath. The urge to walk out of Parker’s office and find Charles Sinclair overwhelmed me again.
Parker cleared his throat. “As Amanda said, it’s a lengthy process, one that . . .” He cleared his throat again, removed his glasses and rubbed his thumb at the corner of one eye. “. . . one that, if we don’t find a donor match, will outlive Tanner.”
Cold pain lanced my rage. I ground my teeth. “So why is he doing it?”
Parker shook his head, and put his glasses back on. He grimaced. “Charles is a determined man.”
“Determined to let his grandson die because he has issues with me?” I balled my fists. “Or because he will do anything to ingratiate Robert Aames in to Amanda’s life?”
“Bren.” Amanda touched my wrist. “Dad’s . . .” She broke off.
“A condescending, arrogant bastard?” I finished for her. I shouldn’t have gone there, I shouldn’t have let my anger control me.
Amanda frowned. “Yes. You’re right. He is both of those things. But he loves me, I know that, and he thinks . . . He’s doing it from a place he thinks . . .”
She stopped and slumped in her chair, dropping her face into her hands and shaking her head.
I watched her, feeling helpless. I had no clue about the American court system, about US law. I had no clue what Charles’s legal case meant for Tanner. I had no fucking clue what it meant for me and my future with him. If Charles got his way, I had no doubt he’d make sure the “dumb Australian jock” had no contact with his grandson ever again.
What I did have a clue about was what he was doing to Amanda. It was right in front of me. And she was still defending him. He was destroying her, and she was still trying to protect him from my rage. Because she loved him, as any daughter who’d grown up with a father who cherished her, who doted on her, who wanted only the best for her . . . she loved him.
Which didn’t change my desire to break his jaw at all. But it did keep me in Parker’s office.
Drawing in a slow breath, I lowered myself into my seat and looked at Parker. “You said Charles is pressuring the board. What does that mean?”
“He’s making noise, via his student’s father. It’s a dead-end. The board has no sway over any medical decision, but Charles and Jacqueline do have legal permission to make medical decisions about Tanner’s treatment if Amanda is incapable of doing so. I think Charles is trying to see how much that permission allows him at this point.”
“Allows him?” I echoed. My gut was a knotted mess.
Parker pulled a face. “It allows him nothing. All Amanda needs to do is revoke that right. Now that you’re here, it makes sense she does that and gives it to you anyway.”
“Jesus, Dad,” Amanda muttered beside me.
I looked over at her. Her cheeks glistened, wet with tears. But she was sitting straight. Her jaw was set. Strong. She was so strong. Stronger than me.
“And,” Parker went on, “he’s trying to scare you. Both of you.”
I raised my eyebrows.
Parker grunted. “You’re both young. You, big guy, aren’t from around these parts. You don’t know our laws. Charles knows that. If you’d been a match, he wouldn’t have been able to play this card, but unfortunately you weren’t.”
“What time is it?”
I blinked at Amanda’s sudden question. So did Parker. He checked his watch before I did. “Close on six-fifteen.”
Amanda let out a sigh and turned to me. “It’s a Saturday. Dad’s not going to be awake for another hour or so.” She smiled. A real smile. One full of warmth. “But Tanner will be. He’s probably already awake, wait
ing for me. Waiting for us.”
Us.
Smile growing softer, warmer, she rose to her feet again. “C’mon, Bren, let’s go spend the morning with our son. We’ll deal with Dad later, okay?”
I frowned, but didn’t move.
She grinned. Actually grinned. “Who do you want to spend the morning with right now, Bren? My dad? Bruising your knuckles on his jaw? Or your son? Maybe getting whacked in the head with Optimus Prime a few times and refining your diaper-changing skills?”
Parker chuckled. It was a strained sound, but running beneath it was the playful humor of the man I’d very first met. “I’ve heard those skills need some work.”
Amanda held out her hand. “Come see Tanner with me, Bren. You can help me change his, what do you call them? Nappy?”
“Nappy.” I rose to my feet, took her hand and smiled. “And I can change him myself.”
We were at the door to Parker’s office when Amanda turned back to face him. “Thank you, doctor.”
He nodded. “I will do everything I can to save your son, Amanda. Everything. Even if it means telling a loving daughter her father is being a bit of an ass.”
A dry bark of a laugh burst from me before I could stop it.
Amanda fixed me with a melodramatic glare, her lips twitching. “C’mon, Bren. Nappy time.”
We left Parker’s office, hand in hand, and headed for Tanner’s room. The hospital was waking up, its young patients beginning to interact with nurses, some laughing at whatever was taking place in their rooms. I heard the sounds of Pokémons battling, the Wiggles singing and Finn and Jake going on another crusade in Adventure Time as we walked the corridors heading for the Oncology ward.
“I’m sorry,” Amanda murmured just before we arrived, stopping me with a gentle squeeze of my hand.
I turned to her. “For what?”
“For Dad. For him not liking you.”
I chuckled, cupping the side of her face. “Do you think I remotely care what your father thinks of me?”
She shrugged. “It must make you feel like crap though?”
“I’ve got to admit, I’m not used to people not seeing how awesome and incredible I am.”
She laughed, rolling her eyes. “Of course, that must be brutal.”
“I’ll get over it. And so will he. But until he does, he’s going to have to learn to live with me. Because I’m not going anywhere. Got it?”
Amanda nodded. “Got it. Hope you don’t mind me going a bit psycho on his ass when we see him next though?”
I grinned. “Only if I can take photos. Maybe Chase can Instagram it?”
She rolled her eyes again, leaning into me a little. “I don’t think she’ll have a problem with—”
My phone buzzed and vibrated into life in my pocket.
Grabbing Amanda’s hand before she could turn away to give me some privacy – there was nothing I didn’t want her to know anyway – I pulled my phone free and looked at the screen.
Raphael Jones. At the sight of his name, the fact he was here in San Diego flooded back to me, the bleak reason behind it.
I pressed Accept with my thumb, and raised the phone to my ear. “Jones. How you going this morning? How’s Maci?”
“You got the results back yet?” he asked. Raphael Jones never used two words when one would do, and he never wasted time when he wanted something. It was a character trait that drove a lot of people mental, but I’d always respected him for it. Even when we’d been in the middle of a non-event love-triangle for Maci’s attention.
Looking at Amanda, I released a slow sigh. “Yeah, we do.”
“Fuck. I’m sorry, mate.”
I brushed Amanda’s lip with my thumb and let out a wry grunt. “The fact that I’m not at your hotel, kicking your door in and dragging you back here to the hospital, wasn’t a giveaway you weren’t a match?”
Raphael responded with his own grunt. “Yeah. Wish to hell I was.”
“It’s all good, dude.” It wasn’t. Not at all. But there was no point ranting at the cruelty of fate. “We’re not giving up yet. Mum and Dad are being tested in Australia. There’s a strong chance one of them will be a match.”
“Your optimism never ceases to amaze me, Osmond.”
I laughed, holding Amanda’s gaze. “Of course it doesn’t. And neither does my stunning good looks and God-like strength.”
Raph chuckled. “Yeah, I’m complete amazed by those.”
A moment of silence passed between us – the silence of two guys sharing a shit situation. The silence of support and understanding.
And then Raph let out a short sigh. “When Maci wakes, we’ll grab some breakfast and come to the hospital, if you want. She’d love to meet Tanner, if we’re allowed?”
“Sure,” I answered. Inside my chest, my heart clenched at the thought of introducing my son to my friends. How many days, weeks would I have left to do that? If we didn’t find a match soon, would I even get the chance to introduce him to my family? My brother? Would he ever meet Uncle Ben? Or Heather? Heather would go nuts over him. I could see her now, damn near hyperventilating over how cheeky and gorgeous he was. Heather would play Transformers with him without hesitation. Knowing her, she’d do all the voices of all the characters and Tanner would fall completely in love with her before the game was . . .
A soft thumb stroking my cheek made me blink. My vision was blurring, fuzzy. My cheeks were wet. What the? I was crying? When the hell had I started crying? Amanda was smiling up at me, grief and love in her face.
In my ear, Raph called my name. “Hey, Osmond? Talk to me, dude. You okay?”
Ah fuck. Fuck, I was crumbling. I was crumbling. “I’m here, Jones,” I croaked back. Amanda touched my cheek again before sliding her arms around my waist and drawing our bodies close together, her head nestling under my chin. “But I gotta . . . I gotta go. Sorry.”
Another beat of silence from Raphael and then he said, “No apologies needed, mate. We’ll call you when we get to the hospital, okay?”
I nodded, my throat too tight to form words. I hung up and shoved my phone into my back pocket and then wrapped my arms around Amanda, pressed my face to the top of her head and surrendered to the raw sobs tearing at my soul.
Guys don’t do public displays of emotional weakness. We’re told from a young age boys don’t cry. We grow up believing we can’t let anyone see how we’re feeling, unless it’s an emotional response to a sporting event. We can cry in public when our team wins. That’s okay, expected even, but cry due to a pain in our hearts? Nope. Not on.
But I stood there in the hospital corridor, just outside the door leading into the Oncology department, holding Amanda in a hug that on reflection was probably crushing her ribs, and sobbed. I guess if there’s ever a place a guy can cry without censure, it’s in the children’s hospital where his son is a patient.
I don’t know how long we stood there, but eventually I got myself under control. When I pulled away, chest heaving, head throbbing, Amanda threaded her fingers into the hair at the back of my head and gazed up into my face. “I love you, Bren,” she whispered.
I swallowed. I wish I could say the unexpected, emotional outpouring had been cathartic, but truthfully, I felt drained. Raw. Beaten.
“C’mon,” she continued, stroking her thumbs over my cheeks again, her smile warm. “Let’s go find our happy.”
A few minutes later, we walked into Tanner’s room. He was awake, lying on his side, thumb in his mouth, watching a cartoon on the plasma screen. The oxygen tube feeding into his nose was green today, the tape securing it to his cheek a vivid purple. His skin was ashen, the dark smudges under his eyes speaking of a pain I couldn’t begin to fathom. He looked thinner, peaky. It made no sense that in the few hours we’d been away he could drop so much weight – all my study on the human body told me so – but he looked thinner. His Spiderman PJs seemed to swim on him. His breath left him in a rasping wheeze.
Amanda’s fingers tightened around mine
. I looked at her, the terror on her face eating at me.
“Mommy!” Tanner’s happy cry scratched at my sanity. It was so full of love and yet so weak, so fragile.
I turned to him, my smile real.
“Hey, tough guy,” Amanda murmured, crossing to him. “Whatcha watching?”
He struggled into a sitting position, the IV in his arm whacking the railing on the side of his bed. His little arms went up, his gaze full of love and joy locked on Amanda’s face. “Bews cues,” he answered, wriggling his fingers in that wholly kid way of saying “Pick me up, pick me up, please.”
Amanda did, lifting him from the bed and snuggling into the side of his neck with tentative care. “Blue’s Clues, eh?” She made some kind of noise. I have no hope of describing it here. Like a ba-ba-bee-boo kind of thing. Whatever it was, it made Tanner laugh.
“Mommy,” he repeated, wrapping his arms around her head.
I’ve never seen, nor do I ever think I will see, such open, honest and true love as what I saw on Tanner’s face right then. It was beautiful. Profound.
And it tore me apart, made me furious at Charles Sinclair and his sickening legal intent.
“Da.”
At Tanner’s weak voice, at his tired smile for me, I forced down my anger, and walked over to them.
“G’day, buddy,” I touched his cheek. “Where’s Optimus?”
A spark of excitement flared in his eyes. “Oppimus.”
Movement in the corner of the room drew my attention. Chase was curled into a ball on one of the chairs, her knees tucked under her chin, her eyes closed. She squirmed about a little, rubbing at one of her eyes, and then wriggled deeper into the seat. Her hair today was the same color as Tanner’s oxygen tube.
It dawned on me her hair and his tube had been matching colors yesterday as well. Was this a thing she did? To help him feel connected to her? To make him smile?
Whatever the reason, if she hadn’t still been asleep, I would have walked over to her and hugged her. She would have groused and offered some kind of snarky comment about my hugging skills, but I would have hugged her anyway.
If life was as unfair and unjust as I was beginning to fear it was, Tanner may never get the chance to meet his Uncle Ben, but at least he’d known his Aunty Chase. And Aunty Chase was awesome.
Unforgettable (Always Book 2) Page 21