by Sandy James
Two emotions fought for control of Joslynn’s brain: the urge to burst into tears and the desire to slam her fists against the table. Either outburst would be accompanied by her tattling about Russ to her friends.
“I shouldn’t have done this.” The whispered admonition was for herself, not Savannah and Chelsea, but they cast her worried glances.
“What happened?” Chelsea asked.
Joslynn sighed as the inevitable happened—she morphed into one of those women who bitched about her man to other women. “Evidently, I’m dating Dr. Jekyll.”
A frown formed on Savannah’s face. “I take it Russ just turned into Mr. Hyde.”
“They all do eventually,” Chelsea added. “Thank God it’s usually temporary and over something stupid.”
“What did he do?” Savannah asked. “Leave wet towels on the floor? Forget to put the toilet seat down?” Her teasing tone and smile faded quickly in wake of Joslynn’s stern frown.
“He lied to me.” The worst indictment Joslynn could ever make. Russ had promised her honesty, the same honesty she’d promised him, and she’d never wavered. And she’d given him something she’d given to only a handful of people.
Her trust.
And he’d rewarded her by lying to her. “When I called him on it, he didn’t say a fucking thing.”
She hadn’t realized that she’d clenched her hands into fists until Chelsea laid her hand over one of them. “Calm down. We’ll figure this out. Together.”
“Figure it out? He lied to me!”
Chelsea eased her hand back but seemed to take no offense to Joslynn’s outburst. “About what?”
“About where he was.”
“Why don’t you start at the beginning?” Savannah suggested.
After taking a deep breath, trying to regain some calm, Joslynn told her tale. “He didn’t stay at the Cottage last night, which is no big deal. He had a late shift at the bar, and”—she shrugged—“sometimes we both need our space. We were supposed to meet for our run this morning and he didn’t show.”
“That’s not like Russ,” Chelsea said. “The man’s always five minutes early.”
“I know, right? And he didn’t call at all last night. He always calls when he gets home from work. Doesn’t matter how late it is.” When he called after work, he always apologized, telling her he hoped he hadn’t woken her up. Then he’d always say that he just wanted to hear her voice before he went to sleep. “I checked this morning to see if he’d texted or if I missed his call. Nada.”
Savannah frowned. “I’ll bet you had trouble sleeping, didn’t you?”
Joslynn gave her a curt nod. “So I figured he’d meet me at the park. He never misses a run.”
“And he didn’t show up at all.” Chelsea shook her head. “Why don’t they realize how much we worry about them?”
Throwing her hands up in exasperation, Joslynn admitted, “But I don’t want to worry about him! I don’t want to be some clinging girlfriend who’s always checking on where he is and who he’s with!”
“What did he lie about?” Chelsea asked. “Specifically?”
“The jerk called when he thought I’d be running. Seemed upset to get me and not my voicemail.”
“Coward’s way out,” Savannah said. “Brad does that, too. Stupid guys acting like naughty kids who’re trying not to get punished.”
“Ethan’s got the same problem,” Chelsea added. “You’re not in this alone, honey. Not by a long shot.”
“Russ said he couldn’t run because he was on his way to his parents’ place to meet with the home health nurse. But he obviously didn’t know I’d just spoken with his mom and she said he’d just left. So where was he really going?”
And who was he going with?
Suspicion. A trait that Joslynn wanted no part of.
“See?” she practically shouted at her friends. “See why I didn’t want a relationship? They always end badly. I was better off just screwing around when I was in the mood!”
Thankfully, there weren’t many people in the restaurant to turn and stare at her outburst. Ashamed and embarrassed, she braced her elbows on the table and put her head in her hands. “Why did I do this to myself?”
“You love him.”
Joslynn’s head shot up at Savannah’s matter-of-fact statement.
“She’s right,” Chelsea said. “You wouldn’t be this upset unless you loved him.”
“I hate him.” Joslynn recognized the words for a lie the moment they fell from her mouth. Judging from their smiles, her friends did too.
“As they say, it’s a thin line,” Savannah said.
“What am I going to do?” Joslynn was in uncharted waters, and she needed their experience to guide her through this.
“First,” Chelsea said, “you’re gonna calm down. Then we’re gonna talk this out.”
Savannah nodded. “Exactly. Things aren’t all that bleak.” When Joslynn started to sputter, Savannah held up a hand. “He lied, yes. But we all know Russ isn’t a liar, which means there was a good reason—something he thought justified the lie.”
Chelsea was nodding as well. “Now we just need to figure out what that reason is.”
* * *
Russ had never been so miserable. Even worse, his mother’s intense stare told him she knew exactly how he felt.
But did she know why he felt that way?
He hadn’t shared his news with anyone, because part of him was having trouble accepting the test results. Denial seemed an easier place to dwell.
He knew he should tell Josie. She knew something had changed.
But he couldn’t tell her. The news wouldn’t change the way she felt. He had no doubt she’d be his greatest advocate and that she’d do anything and everything to help him.
Russ would never put her through what his mother was going through with his father.
Never.
“Russell…” She tapped the spoon against the rim of the pot before setting it aside. After putting a lid on whatever she was cooking, she grabbed her cup of coffee and took a seat across from him at the kitchen table. “Talk to me.”
He shifted his coffee cup between his hands. “Mom…stop.”
“Not until you listen to me.”
Unfortunately, he knew that stubborn set of her jaw quite well. He’d seen it far too often when he was growing up. It was almost as intimidating as Baron’s counting to three when Russ was young.
“You don’t have to stay here again tonight,” she insisted. “Now that we’ve got Karlee coming in so often, your father and I are doing well. Go home. Go be with Joslynn.”
Be with Joslynn.
Exactly what he wanted most in the world.
The one thing he couldn’t do.
Seemed as though he had to fight the urge to pick up his phone and call her every single minute, to tell her what he’d discovered and beg that she help him face a bleak future.
Fight it he did, though. Knowing what he now knew, how could he hold on to her?
She deserved so much better.
“Russell, honey? Are you even listening to me?”
“I’m listening, Mom.”
“We’re fine now,” she insisted. “I’ve got Fiona and Michelle here on Mondays to clean. Karlee is coming in almost every day to help with Dad. There’s no reason for you to stay with us at night.”
Russ’s first instinct was to remind her that her black eye might’ve faded, but he could still see exactly where Baron had hit her. Just seeing her that day had made something inside Russ click into place, as though he discovered the solution to a question he hadn’t even realized he needed answered. He’d realized that he was looking at his own future in everything Baron did, and he also realized that he couldn’t put Josie through the same ordeal Yvonne was enduring.
As everyone kept pointing out to him, Russ was already out of control. He could barely leash his temper now. How bad would things get when that fucking disease got its claws in him, as genetic testin
g had told him was entirely possible? Would he abuse Josie the way Baron had abused Yvonne?
The mere thought sent a shudder racing through Russ. “I know I don’t need to stay. I just…I just want to be here in case…”
“I’ve known you since you drew your first breath on this earth, Russell Grant Green. You think I don’t know what you’re thinking?” Yvonne let out a snort. “You’re blaming yourself because you didn’t protect me.”
Instead of answering, he just shifted his nearly empty coffee cup to his other hand.
“Who exactly do you think you’d be protecting me from?”
Dad. When he’s not Dad.
Russ shrugged.
His mother reached over, picked up his cup, and set it out of his reach. “Your father would never hurt me, Russell.”
Your black eye says otherwise. “He might not mean to.”
“So by staying here every minute you’re not at work, you think you’ll keep him from ever hitting me again?”
He gave her a curt nod.
Waving a dismissive hand, she said, “That’s foolishness.”
“Mom, he hit you. More than once.”
“And each time, he wasn’t in his right mind.”
“So that makes it okay?”
Yvonne reached out a hand to him, and Russ reluctantly grasped it. “Oh, honey. Nothing about this is okay. Not a doggone thing. Yes, he laid hands on me when he was in a bad way. But I learned each time. I’m a smart cookie, Russell. I never make the same mistake twice.”
“You can’t know what sets him off,” he insisted.
“Not exactly, but I’m learning to read him, to keep track of his moods. I know my husband as well as I know my own mind. I can see the changes coming now, and that’s when I do all the things that Joslynn taught me. I have the meds to calm him down. Now that I’ve got Karlee, I’ve got someone to call before he gets too out of hand. I’m not fighting this alone anymore.”
While that made perfect sense, all Russ could think about was how to keep the women he loved safe. If he was at his mother’s side whenever he could be, he could protect her.
But there was only one way he could protect Josie, only one way he could be sure she wasn’t the one worrying about his moods and whether she had the right tranquilizers around when he flew into an Alzheimer’s-induced rage.
And that was to set her free.
Knowing that she would fight him and try to convince him that he wasn’t doomed to follow in his father’s footsteps, Russ was going to have to do whatever was necessary to push her away. His future now seemed set in stone.
One day he would suffer from Alzheimer’s—and the mere mental picture of him striking Josie made his blood run cold.
God, how he loved her. Everything about her, from her fierceness to her intelligence, made him happy. Yet now it was that love that was going to force him to stay away from her. She deserved better. She deserved a man who was whole now and would be whole the rest of his life.
Russ couldn’t promise her that. Not anymore.
“Go home, Russell,” his mother said. “Go see that sweet Joslynn.”
“And leave you to fend for yourself?”
Her narrowed eyes were followed by her wagging her index finger at him. “You’re one stubborn son of a gun, you know that? Before you were a twinkle in your daddy’s eye, I made him some promises. For better or worse. In sickness and in health. Well, by God, I have seen a little worse and a little sickness. But I won’t pass that responsibility off to you, no matter how much you want me to.” Standing, she came over to him and cradled his face in her hands. Then she kissed his forehead. “You’re a good boy, Russell. With the cleaning service and now Karlee, you’ve helped me more than you know. But Baron is my husband. Let me be his wife.”
* * *
“Everything looks good, Joslynn.” Christina Adams, Joslynn’s gynecologist, lifted the ultrasound transducer and then handed Joslynn a towel.
As she wiped the blue gel from her lower abdomen, Joslynn stared at the monitor. She had some training in reading ultrasounds, but she wanted to be sure she was seeing things correctly. “So that’s a mature follicle?”
“Yep. Nice, ripe egg,” Christina replied. “And the uterus and right tube are normal. The left ovary might be atrophied from the chemo, but the right works. I can’t guarantee you’d achieve a pregnancy, but I see no structural reason you can’t conceive. We can draw blood and check hormone levels, too, but I don’t think we need to.”
Pulling her gown closed, Joslynn sat up. Although she had a smile on her face, she wasn’t surprised to feel a tear slip from the corner of her eye. She quickly swiped it away. “No thanks. This told me plenty. Although…I do have my annual blood work tomorrow.”
Christina returned the smile. “Just let my nurse know which lab, and she’ll send in orders to piggyback the hormone testing. I’m glad this all seems to be good news.” Standing, she grabbed her tablet. “Any questions for me?”
Joslynn shook her head. “Thanks so much.”
“You’re quite welcome. You can go as soon as you’re dressed. No need to stop by the desk on your way out.” The phone in her pocket rang for the third time since the exam began. “Please excuse me. I need to run.”
“Of course. Thanks again.”
Alone in the room, Joslynn allowed a few happy tears to fall. She’d convinced herself at an early age that she didn’t want to have kids of her own, that there were plenty of other important things in life. While she wasn’t sure she wanted to be a mother, she was pleased that she now had that option.
After she dressed and left the office, she sat in her car, staring at her phone. Her first instinct was to call Russ and share the results with him. But she couldn’t follow through.
Something was up with him, something that was stressing him out. After she figured out what that was, she’d help him with it and then she could share her news. The way he’d sounded last time they talked, he was liable to totally misconstrue what she was saying and feel pressured to have kids with her.
A quick and very scary thought raced through her mind. Did he have news of his own? Had he gone for his genetic tests?
No. He’d promised her she could go with him when he talked to the genetic counselor. She’d told him how important it was for her to be at his side. The only reason he wasn’t with her today the way they’d planned was because he hadn’t returned any of her calls so that she could arrange for him to go with her.
Angry at being so completely ignored, Joslynn jammed her phone back in her pocket. She’d sent plenty of texts and left several voicemails.
Now it was time for Russ to pull his head out of his ass and reach out to her.
Chapter Twenty-Two
The Cottage was cleaner than it had ever been, which meant Joslynn had a serious problem. Every time she felt something in her life was out of control, she tried to seize that control back in one of the few ways she could—by fussing with her house.
Fussing? In the week since Russ had become harder to reach than a reclusive celebrity, she’d repainted the master bedroom, added new light fixtures to both bathrooms, and put up a new backsplash in the kitchen. If the man didn’t straighten up soon, she would probably remodel the entire house.
When she wasn’t tackling some project, she was at work or running. Yoga was a no-go, which made her frustration worse. She needed the process to relax, but she couldn’t turn her brain off long enough to let any endorphins flow. Instead of enjoying the stretching and the breathing, she found herself launching from one pose to the next just to get the damn sessions over.
Why was this happening? When she’d finally accepted that she’d fallen in love with Russ, he’d begun treating her like she had a contagious disease.
What in the hell happened?
This was all her fault. Instead of following her usual, safe pattern with men, she’d caved. She’d agreed to open herself up, to open up a heart she’d believed was cold. And she’d fallen in
love with Russ Green. She’d committed to a relationship with him. She’d even found the courage to explore the scary question of her fertility.
What had that relationship brought her? Where there had been trust, companionship, and caring, there was suddenly loneliness, silence, and anger.
Well, that was all ending. Now. One way or another, she was going to pin him down and find out exactly what was going on and why he’d done the unexpected one-eighty.
How odd to pick up her phone and have it immediately begin to ring. Had Russ realized how desperately she needed to talk to him?
Instead of her boyfriend, the call was from her family doc’s office. “Joslynn Wright.”
“Joslynn, it’s John Blunt.”
Her heart leaped into her throat. Usually when she had her routine blood work drawn, she received a call from his nurse, saying her numbers were fine. Why would the busy doctor take the time to talk to her during the workday?
Maybe he’d accidentally received her hormone workup and wanted to tell her about it himself. “Dr. Blunt. Hi. What’s going on?”
“I don’t need to put on the kid gloves with you, Joslynn. The numbers aren’t what I’d like to see.”
Terror flooded her mind, making her vision tunnel and her breathing speed. “Which numbers?”
“Mostly white differentials.”
“Chemo?” she whispered.
“Now, let’s not get too far ahead of ourselves,” he replied. “Let’s run some new blood work and get you in here for a physical. If those aren’t what I’d hope, then we’ll do a PET.”
“When?”
“For the physical, let me check my schedule…Can you make it in on Friday at one?”
A glance to the calendar hanging on the refrigerator showed her open on Friday. “I can be there.”
“Good. We can draw blood then, or you can swing by the hospital lab when you’re at work so we have the results by Friday. I’ll leave orders in the system.”
“Thank you, Dr. Blunt.” Such an odd name for a doctor, yet a trait she admired in any caregiver she worked with.
“Hopefully, this is nothing,” he cautioned. “I know you’re an NP, so don’t start thinking about things too hard. Okay?”