Unforgettable (Always Book 2)

by Lexxie Couper

  He turned his smile on her, his hand extended. “Mrs. Amanda.”

  Jacqueline’s lips curled in a small smile as she accepted his shake. “Call me Jacqui.”

  “Jacqui.”

  Dropping Caden’s hand, she turned to us. “I have to go.” Grief etched her forehead. “I need to find your father. Talk to him.”

  Amanda nodded. She seemed to tremble in my arms. “I know, Mom.”

  Jacqueline studied her, sorrow in her face, before looking up at me. “I know you’re going to do everything you promised you would, Brendon. I know you are going to make her happy, I know you’re going to be there for her through . . . through whatever happens next.”

  “I am,” I answered simply.

  Her smile grew warmer, stronger. “But if you hurt her, it won’t be Charles coming after you, do you understand?”

  Returning Jacqueline’s smile, I smoothed my hand up Amanda’s arm, drawing her even closer. “I do.”

  “Good.” She returned her attention to Caden. “Caden, may I be so crass as to tell you to get your ass to Dr. Waters ASAP?”

  “Hell yeah.” Then he frowned. “Who’s Dr. Waters?”

  “You’ll love him,” I answered, my heart thumping with hope I fought like hell to suppress. “He’s a geek just like you. Quotes Star Wars and Star Trek in normal conversation.”

  Caden grinned. “I like the sound of him already.”

  Jacqueline chuckled. “I’ll ask Reception to contact him.” She came over to Amanda, took her in her arms and held her in the way only a mother can hug her daughter, with her whole heart. I could see that clearly in both their faces – a sense of connection beyond affection. “I love you, Mandy,” she whispered. “And I’ll always have your back, okay?”

  She left us with a quick kiss on Amanda’s cheek and a pointed look at me, a look that said, Don’t fuck up, Osmond.

  I wasn’t planning to.

  “C’mon, Caden,” Amanda said, turning her smile on my cousin. She was fighting with herself. The hope was still in her eyes every time she looked at him, but it was guarded, hesitant. “Let’s see what we can do.”

  We walked over to Reception. Jacqueline had left. I wondered what she planned to say to Charles, and found I didn’t care. After what he’d done, I don’t know if I had it in me to care about him ever again.

  The woman behind the counter informed us Parker was “currently un-contactable”. I saw the hope in Amanda’s eyes dim.

  “But,” she went on, reaching for the phone beside her, “I have strict instructions to call Carla if Dr. Waters cannot be contacted, so let’s do that.”

  I watched Amanda as the receptionist dialed the number. She kept flicking her gaze to Caden. Studying him with surreptitious glances. I understood exactly what she was doing. I was doing the same. Caden, my cousin by blood, may be the match that would save our son. Or he may be another false hope, crushed by a simple blood test.

  “Y’know,” he suddenly said, “it’s just dawned on me this is the first time I’ve ever been to America.”

  Amanda smiled. “I will take you to Disneyland, my treat, if you’re a . . .” She petered off.

  If you’re a match. That’s what she was going to say. My chest ached. Man, you have no idea how much I hoped he was.

  “Carla is waiting for you in Examination Room 4.”

  All three of us turned back to the receptionist. She smiled up at us. “Good luck.”

  Luck. Like hope, I’d never put any weight in the concept of luck. But as you can probably see, my outlook on life had changed somewhat over the last twenty-four hours.

  The three of us made our way to the Oncology ward. I held Amanda’s hand. Seriously, there was no way I was letting it go. Caden chatted as only Caden could. Which was to say, he made fun of himself with such self-deprecating charm I suspect Amanda fell in love with him a little. Everyone did who spent more than ten minutes in Caden’s company.

  “How was your flight?” Amanda asked as we rode the elevator.

  “Long,” he answered. “I was smooshed between a guy who would make two of the cousin here” – he slapped my left bicep – “and a woman in her sixties who, I swear, kept dropping her iPad in my lap and then taking for freaking ever to pick it up.” He grinned. “I’m not entirely sure, but I think she was trying to feel me up.”

  “Caden,” I warned, even as I tried to bite back a chuckle.

  Amanda laughed. If you’d asked me if either of us could be laughing at this point in the morning, I’d have said no. But here we were. Hope does that to you, I guess. On reflection, I think it serves more of a purpose in life than I gave it credit.

  “And the guy,” he went on, grin still firmly in place, “had no concept of acceptable flight wear. His shorts were so short and tight I could see what religion he was.”

  Amanda’s eyebrows shot up.

  “Trust me,” Caden muttered. “He wasn’t a big fan of Jesus, if you know what I mean.”

  Pressing her hand to her mouth, Amanda muffled a giggle. I didn’t know whether to hug my cousin, or put him in a headlock. Both could work.

  “But hey, I was worn out from all the old-lady groping, so I handed him my blanket, asked him if he minded if I drooled on his shoulder and promptly went to sleep on it. When I woke up, I felt curiously satisfied and spiritual.”

  I rolled my eyes. Amanda burst out laughing.

  By the time we made it to Examination Room 4 however, nerves had started to eat at me. Amanda had grown quiet as well. Even Caden was more reserved than normal.

  When Carla appeared in the doorway at Amanda’s knock, my pulse turned into rapid-fire gunshot in my ears.

  “Carla,” Amanda made the introductions, “this is Caden O’Dea, Brendon’s cousin. He’s just arrived from Australia.”

  Carla ran a twinkling-eyed inspection over him, her lips pursing. “I get to jab two hot Aussie men in so many days?”

  Caden grinned. “I’m hotter than the other one though, right?”

  Carla slid her smile to Amanda. “Oh, I like him.” She stepped aside, holding out her hand to the room behind her. “Come inside, young man. Let’s get to jabbing.”

  Caden tossed me his overnight bag, pushed up the sleeves of his shirt, and strutted into the room with a wink at Carla.

  With a wordless look at each other, Amanda and I left him there and headed back to Tanner. The closer we got, however, the tighter Amanda squeezed my hand, until finally, at the door of his room, she was almost crushing my fingers.

  “What’s up, babe?” I murmured.

  “I know it’s wrong to . . . to put all my hope in your cousin,” she said, “but if he’s not a match . . . after what Dad . . .” She stopped, staring at the middle of my chest.

  There was nothing I could say to that. Nothing I could do but take her in my arms and hold her.

  A few seconds later, she pulled away. “I’m okay,” she rasped.

  “We’re going to be gravy,” I assured her.

  Fate wouldn’t bring Caden here only to mock us. It wouldn’t. So why was my gut churning? Why was my mouth dry and my pulse so damn fast?

  Walking into Tanner’s room, we found him and Chase hard at work coloring in pictures of the Avengers with fat crayons. They both looked up when we entered.

  “Mommy!” Tanner exclaimed with his usual exuberance at the sight of his mother. He looked just as tired, just as pale as he had when we’d first arrived a few hours ago, maybe even more so. The IV machine beeped beside his bed. “Da!”

  I would never, ever get tired of hearing that. Ever.

  “Did you know,” Chase scowled at us, “that Thor is now a woman in the comic books?”

  “I didn’t,” Amanda said, crossing to Tanner’s bed and perching on the edge.

  Chase grunted. “I don’t know how I feel about that.”

  Dropping Caden’s bag just inside the door, I joined Amanda at the bed, smoothing my hand over Tanner’s head as I checked out his artistic skills. Iron Man w
as a vivid green, almost the same color as Chase’s hair. For some reason, I liked that.

  A beat of silence stretched between us. Tanner, now positioned on Amanda’s lap, intently worked at turning Captain America into a vision in bright pink. I tried not to look at my watch. Caden had been with Carla for only a few minutes, but it felt like hours. If I was like this now, how was I going to last the two hours waiting for the results?

  “Did you see Dad?”

  At Chase’s calm question, I looked at Amanda.

  “Yeah,” she answered, lifting her head to face her sister directly. “I did.”

  “And?”

  “And Thanksgiving dinner isn’t going to be fun.”

  Chase grunted again. “He’s an idiot.”

  “He’s our dad,” Amanda responded. “And everything he does, he does out of love.”

  “Still doesn’t mean I don’t want to slap him,” Chase countered, lowering her focus back to Thor. Her coloring-in skills were exemplary. Her color scheme for the Norse god was . . . different. Who knew Thor had purple hair?

  “I hear you on that,” Amanda muttered. The fact she knew Chase wouldn’t be able to hear the comment tore at me. Whatever relationship Amanda had with her father after all this, it would never be the same. How that impacted on her relationship with Chase obviously worried her. I wanted to tell her it was going to be okay. Instead, I lowered my head and kissed the top of hers.

  She smiled up at me. Tanner did the same. “’Sokay,” he declared with a smile.

  If it weren’t for the tubes in his nose and his arm, the lack of hair, the lack of color, the wheezing breath and sunken eyes, that smile would have made my heart sing.

  “So,” Chase said, raising her head to look at me, “what’s happening now? Is Dr. Waters searching the donor bank again?”

  I blinked. I’d forgotten Chase had no clue about Caden. “Actually . . .” I began.

  Of course, that was the exact moment, Parker walked into Tanner’s room. With Caden.

  “So that hurt,” Caden grinned, rubbing at the small round bandage on the inside of his right arm as he strolled over to the bed. “Hey.” He stopped and pointed at Tanner, who – I couldn’t help but notice – was pressing himself hard to Amanda. “You must be Tanner.”

  Tanner stared at him, studying him.

  Caden grinned wide. “I’ve got something for you,” he said, digging around in his back pocket before withdrawing his hand to show Tanner what he held.

  It was a Caramello Koala, a distinctly Australian chocolate shaped like a cartoon koala and filled with caramel. They are delicious. I hadn’t eaten one since I was a kid. Caramel-filled chocolate is not, unfortunately, on my diet.

  I could see this Caramello Koala, however, shouldn’t be on anyone’s diet. It was flat and clearly melted in the packet. Tanner frowned.

  Caden frowned at it as well, a ludicrous frown of melodramatic proportions. “Well, bum,” he muttered with a comical pout.

  A smile began to tug at Tanner’s lips. I glanced at Amanda. She was smiling down at him, the tears in her eyes threatening to fall.

  “Wait a minute!” Caden held up a finger, grinning again. Tanner flinched at the sudden outburst and then started to giggle. With a crazy 180-degree twirl, Cade scanned the room. “Where’d you put my bag, cousin?” he asked. “Ah, there it is.” He swooped on it.

  From Amanda’s lap, Tanner giggled more. After a few seconds of digging around in his bag, and with a dramatic flourish more suitable to a magician’s act, Caden leaped to his feet, spun around to Tanner and held out something completely different in his hand this time. No, not in his hand. On his hand.

  Tanner stared at it. I stared at it. It was a koala sock puppet. A koala sock puppet with an un-melted Caramello Koala pinned to its felt hands.

  “Oh my God.” Amanda burst out laughing. “That’s adorable. Where did you get it?”

  Caden preened. “I made it. Waiting for the taxi that would take me to Sydney airport about” – he looked at his watch – “a billion hours ago. What time is it here, anyways?”

  Tanner held out his arms, hands opening and closing, his focus locked on the sock puppet on Caden’s hand.

  “A little after ten,” Parker answered.

  I jumped. So did Amanda. I think we had both forgotten he was in the room.

  Caden chuckled. “This jetlag thing isn’t anywhere near as glamorous as they make it sound in the movies.” He turned back to Tanner. For a second, a brief second, I saw him glance at Chase, as if only just noticing her. And then he was walking toward Tanner, sock puppet koala dancing ahead of him. “Here you go, Tanner,” he said, and then paused again, this time to look at Amanda. “Err . . . I probably should have asked if he can have it first. It’s been in a sealed plastic bag since I made it, if that helps. I can show you the bag. And the sock was clean. Brand new, in fact.”

  Amanda’s smile was warm. And yet sad. “Sure,” she answered, brushing her hand over Tanner’s head once more. “What kid can’t have a sock puppet?”

  A kid who has a dangerously low immune system. But even as the urge welled through me to snatch the puppet out of Caden’s hand before he could give it to my son, a wave of trust crushed it. I knew my cousin. He was smart. Very smart. And very aware of medical conditions. He’d fooled around with the idea of being a surgeon before choosing to study veterinary medicine. For all his perceived flippancy, Caden would know not to bring something into Tanner’s room that would cause him danger. If I asked, I bet I’d learn the sock was tumble-dried twice on extreme heat before even making it to its koala status. It was the kind of thing Caden would do. Hell, he’d thought to pack it in a sealed, plastic bag after all.

  “Here you go, little person,” he said, sliding the sock from his hand.

  “Hey,” Chase said, rising to her feet. “Hey hey, wait a damn minute.”

  Amanda frowned at her sister. I did the same. Caden froze, half bent toward Tanner, his smile fading, his eyes on Chase. Without a word, Chase stomped around the bed, snatched the sock puppet from Caden’s hand and then turned to where her handbag sat on the table next to the crayons.

  “Chase?” Amanda frowned. “What are you . . .”

  Still without speaking, Chase pulled a small disinfectant spray bottle from her bag, held up the sock and depressed the button on the bottle. A fine mist of disinfectant coated the puppet.

  Caden raised his eyebrows, his eyes still fixed on Chase. Ignoring us all, Chase pressed the button again, coating the other side of the sock.

  “There.” She nodded, meeting Caden’s scrutiny. “Now you can give it to my nephew.”

  His lips twitched and there was a flash of something in his eyes. “Well, as long as I can do it now,” he said, taking the puppet back from her.

  She narrowed her eyes.

  He grinned again, first at Chase and then at Tanner. “Now,” he said, crouching down until he was at eye-level with my son, “hold your hand up like this.”

  He demonstrated what he wanted Tanner to do. Tanner, expression serious, did so. With gentle care, Caden slid the sock over Tanner’s small hand. “There you go.”

  Tanner gazed at him, awestruck, and then looked at the puppet on his hand. “Sock.”

  “Koala,” Caden said.

  “Kala,” Tanner echoed. “Sock kala.”

  Caden grinned. “Couldn’t have said it better myself.”

  “Well,” Parker said from the door. Once again, we all jumped. Even Caden this time. I saw him look at Chase again, the quickest of glances, and then he was straightening to face Tanner’s doctor. “I need to get back to work. Tanner, don’t go letting that koala eat too many eucalyptus leaves, okay?”

  Tanner shook his head, patting the sock puppet’s head. “’Sokay. ’Sokay.”

  Parker smiled. “It is okay, champ. It is.” He looked at Amanda, then at me. “It’s going to take a couple of hours.”

  Amanda nodded. My gut clenched. It was easy to forget – during a mo
ment of simple joy, such as the arrival of the sock puppet in Tanner’s life – that we were at the hospital because he was dying. The mind does that, I’ve realized. As a coping mechanism.

  Or perhaps it was the optimist in me, looking for the good, the wonderful, the happy, in a sea of bleakness. Focusing on it, instead of the reality that would cripple us.

  With a final grin at Tanner, Parker left. It wasn’t until he turned away from us that I saw how drained, how beaten, he looked. The happy grin he’d given Tanner slipped into a mask of bleak thought. His shoulders slumped. What did he know that I didn’t?

  “Be right back,” I murmured against Amanda’s cheek.

  Before she could ask what I was doing, I followed Parker out of Tanner’s room. I found him at the nurses’ station, leaning against it, eyes closed.

  “Doc?”

  He opened one eye a crack. “Big guy?”

  A dull pressure wrapped itself around my temples. “Do I . . . Is there something I should know?”

  Parker closed his eye again. “Let’s just get the results back before we talk, okay?”

  “We’re out of time, aren’t we?”

  I’ve never wanted to utter words less than those ones. Every molecule in my body rebelled against saying them. My throat clamped tight, as if in an attempt to prevent the muscles of my larynx from forming them.

  Parker didn’t move. Didn’t make a sound.

  “I can see how unwell Tanner looks, doc,” I said. My chest ached. So did my gut, a churning knot of cramping pain. “We’re running out of time.”

  He let out a short sigh. “We are,” he finally said, rubbing at his eyes behind his glasses. “I am, I’m afraid, at a point where I am reassessing Robert Aames’ bone marrow compatibility with Tanner’s.”

  I stared at him.

  With another sigh, he opened his eyes. “If you do believe in God,” he said, “or any higher power for that matter, Brendon, I would suggest you start doing some bargaining. For Tanner’s sake, put everything you’ve got on your cousin’s test. Otherwise, we may have to choose riskier options.”

  I couldn’t move.

  He let out a low grunt and gripped my upper arm. “But I will hold off as long as I can. I promise. Go be with your family, big guy,” he ordered, squeezing my arm before giving it a pat. “Now.”