“Gavin, this is Gen. There’s something I need to discuss with you. I’d like to meet at the Bar and Grill, if you’re free. Please let me know at your earliest convenience.”
She hung up before she fully heard back to herself what she’d said. “Your earliest convenience?” She groaned.
Shit. She’d sounded more like his landlord who wanted to have a conversation about the building going condo than someone who had, on many occasions, enjoyed quality naked time with the man.
She collapsed back down on the couch and made a cursory attempt to look at the vendor layout before giving up on it. Who was she kidding? She was going to spend the rest of the evening staring at that goddamn phone and waiting for it to ring, and there wasn’t a single freaking thing she could do about it.
Chapter 31
Gavin unlocked the front door and stepped through, hoping no one would be home. He was raw from an afternoon of low-level, omnipresent anxiety about how the meeting between Troy and Gen had gone, and he wasn’t quite ready to process the download yet.
Of course, there was always the chance it had gone great, that Gen hadn’t been upset at all, and that hearing the report from Troy would be a good thing, setting all his worries at ease…but, somehow, he doubted that was the case. And he just wasn’t ready to face anything else yet.
Not to mention, there was his whole realization during his conversation with Mila that he was going to have to have hard conversations with the people in his life. That was playing on his mind, and he really would like just a little more time to think about how those should go.
He’d dropped Mila off at her friend’s house and thought that might be a good sign for his chances of enjoying a little peace and quiet.
The tension knotting his gut uncoiled slightly at the sight of shadows darkening the corners of the living room and shrouding the furniture. If his brother had been here, the place would’ve been ablaze, electric bill be damned.
When Troy had first moved back into the house after their parents died, when Mila was five years old, he’d wanted the house to seem as cheerful as possible at all times. Living along the often-misty Oregon coast, that was a challenge without the help of electricity, so most of the lights in the small cottage had been left burning brightly whenever they were home, and Troy had simply never gotten out of the habit.
The minute he’d locked the door behind him, he headed into the kitchen. If there’d been a time recently when he’d needed a beer more than he did right then, he couldn’t bring it to mind.
That’s not true, dude. There have plenty of times that called for a beer lately. But this is definitely one of them.
“Hey, Gav.”
Gavin just about jumped out of his skin at the sound of Troy’s voice echoing through the house that, just seconds ago, he’d thought was empty. He was in the middle of stuffing his keys into his pockets and when Troy spoke it startled him so much that he fumbled them, sending them clattering to the floor.
His eyes darted around the room, finally landing on Troy sitting at the kitchen table, shrouded in shadows. “Shit, dude, that’s creepy. Are you practicing to become an assassin? What the fuck?”
Troy laughed. “That’s your guilty conscience talking. I was just enjoying the sunset, and the lights put a glare on the glass.”
Gavin looked out the sliding glass door to the ocean beyond, and the brilliant kaleidoscope of purples and pinks that shaded the horizon. When he turned back to Troy, he saw a mug of steaming liquid sitting in front of his brother on the kitchen table. Chagrined, he realized that the whole thing was, in fact, a lot more pedestrian than his nerves had led him to believe.
As he bent to retrieve his keys from the floor by his feet, Troy continued, “So, Gav, why so jumpy?”
Gavin didn’t like the self-satisfied, slightly ball-busting tone in his brother’s voice, but he figured he deserved it.
He’d wanted more time to get his head around having this conversation with his brother, but he realized now that the whole “more time” thing was bullshit. It could be a hundred years from now, and he’d still want more time. He sat across from Troy. Best to just dive in.
Before he did that, though, there was one thing he needed to know.
“So, how did it go with Gen today?”
Troy shrugged. “I don’t know why the hell you sent me there instead of just cancelling.”
Gavin didn’t either, really, now that he thought about it. Cancelling on Gen just never occurred to him. “So, was she pissed?”
“I don’t know, man. I guess…puzzled more than pissed. We all are, as a matter of fact.”
Gavin nodded. “I know.”
They sat in silence for a moment, then Gavin continued. “I have a brain tumor.”
The words came out just as Troy was taking a sip from his mug and when he heard them, he spit the liquid out, and then the mug tumbled from his fingers and went crashing down his chest and onto the table, splashing hot liquid everywhere before it went spinning off onto the floor and shattered loudly.
“Yep,” Gavin said, his voice dry, “that’s about how I imagined that would go.”
Troy grabbed a dish towel that was sitting in the middle of the table and wiped furiously at himself, and then at the table. “What are you talking about? Are you fucking kidding me?”
“No. I wouldn’t kid about something like that.”
Troy threw the dish towel across the room, where it landed perfectly in the sink. He looked back at Gavin. “Yeah. I know. You’re right, you wouldn’t,” he said, somewhat mollified.
“Unless, you know. My tumor made me do it.”
Troy’s face lost color and Gavin rushed to continue, “Kidding! Sorry, dude. Just kidding.”
“Which you swore you’d never do.”
“To be fair, you kind of left yourself wide open for it.”
Troy looked out at the sunset again for a long moment and then back at Gavin. His face was resolute, set in stone. “Okay. It’s fine. Whatever it is, it’s fine, we’ll deal with it. You’re not in this alone. We’re all in it with you.” He took a deep breath and then went on, his voice weighed down by the gravity of the situation. “So, what’s the prognosis? You don’t need to protect me. I can take it.”
“Oh, shit, Troy. No. It’s nothing like that. It’s small. It’s slow-growing. I’ve probably had it my whole life. Recently, it started affecting my eyesight just enough that I can’t get in the air, but it doesn’t affect my day to day. The doctor’s pretty sure that’s all it will ever be.”
Troy stared at him for what felt like forever, his face completely blank. Gavin didn’t know if he was processing the information, or thinking of how to respond, or what.
Finally, in measured and even tones, he said, “You couldn’t have led with that part, asshole?”
Gavin’s heart dropped into his gut, thinking of the exchange suddenly from Troy’s point of view. Damn. He was going to have to do a lot better when he had the rest of these conversations. “Sorry.” That was the simplest, yet also the truest, thing he could think of to say.
“What I don’t understand is why you didn’t feel like you could tell any of us about this.”
Crap. “Well. Yeah. That’s actually not strictly true.”
“Oh, of course.” Troy’s voice was brittle. “Of course you told Gen. I could tell she knew more than she was letting on.”
“No.” Gavin shook his head. “Not Gen. Mila.”
“Are you kidding me?”
“No.”
“She’s a kid! She can’t handle this.”
“Well, she has been.”
Troy dropped his head into his hands. “God, Gav. I don’t know what to say. I think I need some time to wrap my head around this.”
Gavin’s voicemail notification chimed and he remembered that he’d put his phone on “do not disturb” mode while he’d been out with Mila and never changed it back. He looked at the screen and saw that the message was from Gen.
Looking back up at Troy, he said, “Well, take all the time you need, bro. I think I’m going to be heading out right now to have a very similar conversation to the one that we just had.”
Troy smiled wryly. “Make sure you lead with the ‘not a big deal’ part rather than the ‘tumor in the brain’ part.”
Gavin nodded as he rose and headed for the door. “Good tip.”
Chapter 32
Gen clasped her fingers together on top of the table to keep them from shaking. This was going to be it. The big bend in the road. She couldn’t go on like this anymore, living in limbo, wondering what was going on. Her imagination, she was sure, had taken her to much darker places than reality ever could.
Or…was she sure of that? How could she be? What if the truth was so much more devastating than anything she’d thought about, or dreamed about in her worst nightmares? What if—
She cut herself off. No. This was the reason for calling Gavin here, to the Cupid’s Arrow, to talk. To stop the damn what ifs. They were killing her slowly.
She looked up as the front door swung open, with a rush of adrenaline flooding her system, her breath catching in her throat, her heart pounding out of her chest.
Yeah. It was about the tenth time she’d gone through that little routine. At this point, she expected it to be a random person more than she expected it to be Gavin. But she was wrong.
It was him. Even backlit by the streetlight just outside the door, the interplay of light and shadow obscuring his features, she recognized him.
She knew the shape of his shoulders, the tilt of his head, the cast of his jaw. She would know them anywhere. If they were apart for fifty years and he came walking into a room, she would goddamn know him. He was engraved on her heart, every single detail of him. Forever.
She lifted her hand; the gesture meant to catch his attention and show him where she was sitting. Her voice had caught in her throat and she couldn’t call out.
He slid into the booth across from her and sat quietly.
She studied his face and body language, trying to tell if he was pissed, or sad, or happy, or if he felt sick, or if he were in any of a hundred other physical or emotional states that other people would’ve worn all over themselves, giving away thousands of clues as to what was going on inside them, both intentionally and not.
Not Gavin, though. He just sat there stoically, like he always did.
Of course, sometimes he had telltale signs. A tiny twitch at the edges of his lips meant he was thrilled. A microscopic drawing of his brows together meant he was fucking livid. There were clues. Sometimes. Just not now.
As the silence drew on, Gen fidgeted more and more, then finally said, “Uh, yeah. So, I guess you’re all wondering why I’ve called you here today.”
His expression didn’t change. He let the silence stretch for another few seconds, then replied, “Joke?”
She grunted. “Well, apparently not. But, moving on. Here’s the thing – I can’t eat. I can’t sleep. I can’t work.”
He put his hand over hers. “Why?”
It took every ounce of control she had not to explode with rage at the question. Anyone else in the world, she would’ve assumed they were playing games. Not him, though. Games were not in his wheelhouse.
So, instead of exploding, she took a deep breath and forced herself to speak evenly and carefully, enunciating every word. “Because, Gavin. You are sick. And you will not tell me what is wrong with you. And I have tried to be the cool girlfriend, but there are two problems with that plan – one, I’m not cool. I’m fiery. And it’s hard to fight your nature. And, two, I’m not your girlfriend.”
“What are you, then?”
“I’m your…I don’t even know what. I doubt you do either.”
All he did was shrug, which brought on another wave of volcanic rage that she had to work very hard to shove down, using nothing more than force of will and the power of deep breaths.
“Are you all right, Gen?”
“Fine. Why do you ask?”
Another shrug. “You sound like you’re hyperventilating. Also, you’re saying every word through teeth gritted so tight I’m afraid you might break them.”
“Well, I’m upset.”
He sighed and looked down at the tabletop. “I know. I get that. And you’re not alone, believe me. My brothers have been staging a full-fledged campaign to get me to talk about what’s happening.”
“I don’t get it, Gavin. People care about you. What in the ever-loving hell is so terrible about that? Do you even know how many people are alone in this world, that would give their left nut to be surrounded by friends and family that would love them the way yours do? Why the eff will you not just talk to us?”
The little twitching, ghost of a smile thing he did appeared on his lips. “When did you start dialing down your cursing? I never thought I’d live to see the day.”
“First of all, I’m not dialing it down. I’m switching it up for variety’s sake. Secondly, jokes about your own mortality right now? They are in poor taste.”
He nodded, then looked down at the table. When he raised his head, he looked solemnly into her eyes and reached across the table, grasping both of her hands in his.
He spoke, his deep voice soft around the edges. Her heart dropped to the floor at his words. “Gen, I need you to brace yourself.”
Ice water rushed through her veins, but she closed her eyes and reminded herself that this wasn’t about her. It was about Gavin. It was about supporting Gavin, and letting him know that she was here for him. This wasn’t about her feelings. It was about his.
She opened her eyes and nodded. “Okay. Whatever it is, we can deal with it together. Just tell me.”
“Okay.” He squeezed her hands. “Are you ready?”
She nodded and tried to swallow, but her mouth was suddenly dry, her throat scratchy.
“Okay,” he said. “You asked for it. Here’s the truth. I’ve been going to the VA for post-op care. I had a procedure a few weeks ago. Well, surgery, really. If you want to get specific.”
“Yes! Good freaking night, all I want is to get specific. Please, for the love of God, tell me what’s going on.”
“Well,” he said earnestly, “The truth is, I gave my left nut to have friends and family who would harass me about my private life. It worked.”
The words took a few long seconds to hit her brain, and then for her brain to process their meaning. When it did, she couldn’t help but burst out laughing.
His lips twitched and she reached across the table to punch him in the upper arm. “Oh, no, fucker. Don’t you dare! This is not a laughing matter. Don’t let the fact that I’m laughing confuse you. I’m so pissed off at you, I could punch you in your goddamn throat right now.”
He shook his head. “It’s so hard to take your threats seriously when they’re delivered through giggles.”
She drew herself up, as tall and straight-backed as she could manage. “I, my friend, have never in my life – not once – giggled. I have laughed, I have guffawed. I have chuckled. I may have even burst out. But, giggled? How freaking dare you.”
His eyes softened as he watched her deliver this speech and he reached across the table, brushing her hair gently back from her face. Her eyes widened. He’d never touched her that intimately in public before.
“Come on, Gen. Let’s go. I’d already decided to fill you in, even before you called. But not here. In private. The car.”
She nodded mutely and stood to follow him out. She’d sat at the table before he’d come in, knowing that this conversation was going to change the two of them and their relationship forever. Well, the conversation wasn’t even finished, and she was still terrified about whatever it was that Gavin might say in the car. But one thing was sure – something between them had already changed, and it was forever.
Chapter 33
Gavin pulled to a stop in the scenic overlook, shrouded in trees, and turned off the car. It was a secluded place, far off
the beaten path, and it had always been one of their special spots.
Neither one of them had said a word since they’d left the bar, but now Gen broke the silence. “Okay, Fly Boy. Spill.”
He took a deep breath. “It’s not serious, first of all.”
Gen dropped her head in her hands and exhaled. He realized that he hadn’t even noticed her holding her breath. She must’ve been really worried about him. He felt a sharp pang in his gut, but he didn’t know if it was regret because he’d put her through that kind of worry or excitement that she cared that deeply about the thought that he might be sick.
She smacked him hard on the shoulder. “Well, damn it, you could’ve led with that!”
“I did.”
She rolled her eyes. “Not here, in the car. I’m talking about before. In the bar. Or hell, at the hospital.”
“Oh.”
She growled, the sound of her exasperation filling the car and making him want to wrap her up in his arms; he was so enamored with how adorable she got when she was frustrated. He didn’t, though. He might’ve been acting like an idiot in a lot of ways, but he was definitely smart enough to know that doing that wouldn’t be a good idea. Not at all.
She slammed her curled fists down on her lap. “God, Gavin, having conversations with you is like pulling teeth sometimes!”
He nodded. “Yeah. I’ve heard that analogy. More than once.”
“So… Tell me everything.”
“I have a small growth in my brain. A tumor. But don’t freak out from hearing those words. It’s small and benign, and chances are, it always will be. But as of right now, it’s keeping me on the ground.”
“For how long?”
He spread his hands on the steering wheel. He started to speak but had to pause and collect himself. When he had, he said, “I won’t be getting in the air again.”
Rescuing His Heart Page 13