Just One Inch

by Cassandra Dee

  “Jake, I know this is hard to take,” she said slowly. “I never meant for you to know.”

  “You never meant for me to know?” I interrupted, my rage building. “You never meant to tell me that I was a fucking father?” I was livid, my anger like a force of nature as she trembled before.

  “I know,” she said softly. “I’m so sorry, I didn’t think we had a future. But,” she continued quickly, “I’m here to see you now because our daughter’s sick. Our baby. Janie has leukemia.”

  I felt weak and had to lean against my desk for support. The blows were coming too fast, one right after another, to my heart and to my gut.

  “You’re fucking kidding me,” I said slowly. “She’s only … what, a month old? We only fucked a year ago,” I said harshly.

  “Jake, please,” Tina said softly. This time I noticed tears shimmering in her eyes. “Janie has leukemia from some kind of parasite that I caught when I was cat-sitting. I’m fine and the parasite is long gone, but somehow Janie’s immune system is compromised such that abnormal white blood cells are multiplying like crazy.”

  I was so stunned that I couldn’t say a word. My life, which had improved dramatically when I saw Tina in the room, had just taken another nosedive to unforeseen depths. My only child, a daughter that I didn’t even know existed, was dying or dead. My body was leaden, my mind too numb to process what was happening.

  But Tina pushed on ahead. “Jake, the doctors tell me that Manning Pharma is the maker of the only drug that can save Janie. Pernacular. You know, the one that costs a thousand dollars per pop. Won’t you,” she choked, “please, won’t you give some to Janie? For your daughter?”

  I was struck speechless again. This woman thought she had to beg me for a life-saving drug for our daughter? I shook my head, realizing just how low her opinion of me must be. She must have thought I was the worst fucking bastard from the ninth circle of hell, someone who would withhold life-saving treatment from his own child.

  But time was of the essence. Pernacular is most effective if taken sooner, not later during the treatment regimen. “Bring me to her,” I said roughly. “Take me to my daughter.”

  13

  Tina

  I almost cried with relief. Although Jake had said nothing about actually providing the drug, his brusque movements and curt tone on the phone assured me that Janie’s illness was his first priority.

  “Martin, fire up the bird,” he said. “We’re headed to Good Samaritan Hospital in San Jose. We’ll be at the helipad in five.”

  And with that, he grabbed my arm and frog-marched me to a bank of elevators in a private hallway. I didn’t try to make conversation, Jake’s face a grim mask that I was almost afraid to look at. But when the elevator doors opened and I saw that we were on top of the building with a giant helicopter waiting, I almost sighed in relief. This would get us to the hospital in ten minutes flat where surely, Jake would meet Janie and provide a supply of pills. He could leave immediately afterwards if he wanted, I wasn’t going to make him be a dad if he didn’t want to.

  The bird lifted off and soon we were whirring through the air, the strange beauty of the Bay below us, choppy grey waters surrounded by marshes and developed land. I heard the pilot call into hospital traffic control and soon we landed on a helipad near the pediatric wing.

  “This way,” I said after we’d disembarked, my high heels long gone, my hair a mess from the wind, my complexion ruddy. But Jake didn’t notice. The grim look on his face was still there, the skin pulled tight across those razor-sharp cheekbones, his usually mobile, expressive mouth a tight line.

  “Tina Walsh here, to see Janie Walsh,” I blurted to the woman at the front desk.

  “Of course, Ms. Walsh,” said the receptionist. “But we don’t allow anyone but family into the NICU,” she said with a pointed glance at Jake.

  “Th- this is Janie’s father,” I said shakily, with a hesitant glance at the big man. There was no change of expression on his face.

  “Of course then,” said the nurse. “Please follow me.”

  Our steps rang in the empty hallway, the polished floor a depressing green, the walls bare. The NICU was so institutional, I wished they would do something to make it better for families. I swore that if Janie made it out of this alive, I would do something, anything in my power, to make the ordeal more bearable for parents struck by tragedy.

  Finally, we pulled up in front of a glass window.

  “There she is,” said the nurse gently. “We turned up the heat in the incubator because her temp was falling, and we’re still pumping antibiotics for any secondary infections. I’ll leave you with her now.”

  I pressed my nose against the glass, looking at our precious girl. Her body was so small, still under the bright lights, the wires wending their way in and out of her arms and legs, a breathing tube taped under her nose. I was miserable and a silent tear escaped from the corner of my eye.

  It was only when I heard a noise that I realized Jake was crying too. I turned my head and the big man had tears on his cheeks, his eyes fixated on the tiny bump before him. Our baby … our baby was sick, and her father was devastated, a man so ruthless he’d made the front page of national media for his cold-blooded ways. But our tiny daughter had brought him to his knees. His hands gripped the window sill with white knuckles, his forearms shaking as he sought to steady himself.

  “Jake,” I soothed. “Janie’s sick but you can help her,” I said. “You can do something for her that no one else can,” I continued.

  “I know, Tina,” he ground out. “I have the drugs here.”

  And with that, he produced a tiny pill pad from his pocket. It couldn’t have been bigger than a credit card, but in tiny transparent blisters were blue pills, small enough for even a baby to swallow.

  “I’ll have a supply of Pernacular delivered to the hospital,” he said roughly, his voice breaking. “In the meantime, we should start her on these,” he said with a swipe at his eyes.

  I almost collapsed with relief. Jake, someone I thought I hated, had come through. Maybe I could begin to trust him, begin to see him in a new light as a pharma executive, sure, but also as a father, a man of feeling, and an indisputable part of my life.

  Epilogue

  Tina

  Two years later …

  My baby squealed happily, waving her chubby arms in the sunlight. Janie was a darling and so different from her first days on earth. I remember how pale she was then, how still, her tiny form seemingly overwhelmed by all the tubes going in and out.

  In contrast, my baby was now a tanned, healthy two-year old, running around the playground in a pink t-shirt and matching shorts.

  “Papa, Papa!” she cried, her arms outstretched as she reached for the man with dark hair and blue eyes the same shade as her own.

  Jake leaned forward to catch her, swooping her up in a bear hug, her tiny form incongruous in those muscular arms.

  “Let’s go see what Mommy’s doing okay?” he asked as the little girl vigorously nodded her agreement.

  You see, Jake and I are a couple now. The first few months when Janie was sick were really rough. Jake could hardly look at me because he was so angry about my keeping the baby’s existence a secret, but his love for his daughter was strong, and with time, our issues came out into the open.

  “Why Tina? Why did you storm out of my office that day? I’d already told you I was breaking it off with Jenna, so why didn’t you give us a chance?” he’d asked harshly.

  “Jake,” I began slowly. “It’s hard to believe, but it has to do with Pernacular … and how I thought Pernacular defined you.”

  He snorted.

  “What, you believed all that bullshit in the press? How Manning Pharma denies treatment to pregnant women and lets their babies be consumed by parasites? You know that’s not how my company works. You know that’s not how I work,” he added forcefully.

  “I know that now,” I said slowly. “But I didn’t know it at the time.
The newspapers just couldn’t get enough of Manning, and my law professor basically painted you as villains. I had no idea how the insurance industry works. I had no idea that they negotiate the price of a drug down to mere pennies on the dollar. Nor did I know that Manning Pharma was giving Pernacular for free to those in need,” I said slowly. “It was only until your media machine worked its magic that public opinion began to shift,” I added.

  Jake nodded. The investment in publicity and “spin control” had paid off, and Manning was now seen as a model start-up, one which had navigated the treacherous waters of drug development to successfully come out on top -- helping mankind while also making money hand over fist.

  “But Tina,” he said slowly. “If you thought I was a monster, why didn’t you just confront me? Why did you hold back about Pernacular?”

  I grew red, the heat a tide on my cheeks.

  “Because,” I said carefully, “I didn’t think very highly of myself. I never thought that someone like you, a bad boy billionaire, would be interested in a mousy no-one like me. So I was a coward. I didn’t give you a chance to make your case, and I regret it.”

  Jake was still.

  “I’m not sure where this takes us, but at least you know that I broke off the engagement with Jenna.”

  In fact I didn’t know, but the news had made me incandescently happy.

  “You did?” I breathed.

  He slowly nodded.

  “I couldn’t go on with that fucking farce. Jenna’s toxic, with all the lies, the half-truths, and the concealed motives. I just couldn’t take it, at home nor at work. Life is hard enough when you’ve got an empire to run,” he said ruefully.

  “Oh Jake,” I said softly, letting a hand trail down his cheek.

  He turned his mouth to kiss my palm, seizing my wrist in his.

  “We’ll start again,” he said roughly. “The bad boy and the good girl, we’ll make it work somehow,” he vowed.

  I nodded because I knew that somehow, we’d make it happen. It was going to be difficult, but I had my man and my baby, and I couldn’t ask for anything more.

  “Of course,” I murmured, tilting my lips up for a kiss. Because Jake is ruthless … but he’s also mine.

  * * *

  The End

  * * *

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  Callie

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  * * *

  “Psst,” whispered my friend Christine. “Check out who just walked in the door!”

  I spun around in my seat. Sure, I should have been paying attention, taking notes and listening carefully, but honestly this class bored me. It was something like “Intro to Anatomy” or “Biological Anatomy,” and as far as I could tell all we did was look at diagrams of animals cut in half before scrutinizing their insides. Gross.

  But a tall drink of water had just sauntered into the classroom. Or more accurately, two tall drinks of water.

  The men who strolled in couldn’t legitimately be called boys because they were at least six three and two hundred pounds each. With blue-black hair and deep green eyes, they were swoon-worthy of the latest Playgirl magazine … if only they’d been nude.

  “Oh my god!” squealed Christine. “Science class just got so much better! Who are they? The board of visitors? Oh please please please, say they’re here to stay.”

  I had to laugh. Christine was so silly but fun in a million ways. We’d had a lot of wild rides together and I could trust her to be my wingwoman, as well as my partner in crime. But right now both of us were one hundred percent focused on the two men who’d just walked in, backpacks casually slung over their shoulders.

  Mr. Grimes paused in his lecture, frowning as he took a slip of paper from the first man.

  “Blake Hanson? Bryan Hanson?” he asked.

  “Yeah, that’s us,” drawled the first one. “We just moved here from New York as mid-semester transfers.”

  I could hear Christine gasp beside me, along with most of the other girls in the room. School had just improved a great deal and life was going to be a lot more interesting from here on out.

  “Take a seat, gentlemen,” directed Mr. Grimes. “Right there, next to the window. We’ll get textbooks and all that sorted after break.”

  And wouldn’t you know it, but the two-person table next to Christine and I was empty. When Mr. Grimes turned back to the blackboard, I could feel Christine furiously scribbling something in her notebook, only to tear it out and pass it my way.

  I looked down, figuring it’d be something like a sappy picture of hearts and arrows or something, but she’d gone further this time. Already, there was a folded note with the name Blake written on top.

  “Chrissy!” I whispered aghast. “We don’t even know which one Blake is! How am I supposed to get this note to them?”

  “Who cares?” she whispered back. “They’re twins, so it doesn’t matter. They’ll figure it out.”

  “But what does it say?” I asked again. “I mean, these guys just got here, what could you possibly have to say to two new transfers who just showed up at Canterdale High?”

  Christine rolled her eyes. “I swear Callie, you’re so unimaginative sometimes. Who cares what the note says? We just want to strike first before any of the other girls here get to them,” she said, jerking her head backwards to indicate the rest of the class.

  I almost started laughing out loud. Sure, there are a lot of pretty girls at Canterdale but Chrissy had to take the cake for most aggressive. Just last week, she’d concocted some scheme to hold a wet Speedo contest in the gym – to the horror of the PTSA.

  So with a sigh, I did as she asked. With a slip of my hand, I tossed the note onto the twins’ desk, to be met by a smooth look from the one closest to me. God, he was handsome. Up close, his eyes were a deep blue and unexpectedly a dimple flashed as he smiled at me, his hand swooping out to cover the note in a swift flash.

  Slowly, the man opened it, glancing at the contents, only to casually tuck it into his back pocket before turning to grin at us.

  “Oh god Chrissy,” I whispered. “What did you put in that note?”

  “You’ll see,” she said airily. “Nothing bad, don’t worry … just something to kick things off, that’s all.”

  Internally, I groaned. I was boy crazy too but I had a feeling my friend had gone overboard this time. What could she have possibly written? Hopefully something not too embarrassing. I groaned internally again. Fortunately at that moment Mr. Grimes spoke up.

  “Alright, everyone to your stations. Blake, Bryan, why don’t you join Chrissy and Callie at station eight. You’ll have to share a cat, I didn’t order enough for another team, but it’s fine. We’ll get you your own animal to dissect by tomorrow.”

  “Eee!” squealed Chrissy. “They’re our lab partners, perfect!”

  But as much as I was looking forward to getting to know these two men, I was already feeling queasy from the task at hand. The smell of formaldehyde was rising in the classroom as people pulled out dead cats from the fridge, the sad, stiff bodies wrapped in plastic tarp. It only became worse when people started unwrapping the saran, the fumes almost overpowering.

  We made our way to the station which was equipped with a sink and a range of sharp-looking tools. Blake and Bryan strode our way as Chrissy got the cat ready, softly stroking its matted fur, the dead googly eyes glazed and lifeless.

  “Thanks for the note,” said one of the men. “I’m Blake, this is my brother Bryan,” he noted with a lopsided grin.

  That smile got to me. From someone who looked like an Adonis, I wasn’t expecting anything but a dazzling flash, the kind that movie stars routinely show with
capped, too-white teeth. But his smile was genuine, reaching his eyes, the kind that could make you melt.

  And disappear into a puddle Chrissy did.

  “Oh hi,” she said breathily. “I’m Chrissy, this is my friend Callie. Where are you guys from? We’re so excited to have you join Canterdale. Just ask if you have any questions,” she burbled. “Callie and I have been here forever.”

  “Thanks,” growled the other twin. “Yeah, we have a ton of questions, it was kind of an unexpected move as senior transfers and all that … but is your friend okay? Callie? Callie?” he said urgently, his voice fading in volume.

  Because despite my best efforts, I was losing it.

  “Um, I’m fine,” I said weakly, gripping the lab countertop. “Welcome to Canterdale.” But I wasn’t okay at all. With a loose sigh, I began to topple, the world moving in slow motion as dizziness overcame me, images blurring at the edges.

  I was just lucid enough to feel a pair of strong arms catch me before dropping into a daze, the haven warm and reassuring.

  * * *

  To be continued …

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