Give and Take

by Lee Kilraine

  Eli and Gray both stood, each of them grabbed one of my arms, and pulled me from the chair, before heading us down the hall and out back to our batting cage. Gray shoved the bat in my hand, then pushed me through the entrance while Eli dumped the bag of balls in the machine.

  “You know the drill,” Gray said. “Don’t stop swinging until your blood pressure is down twenty points and you can use your inside voice.”

  I hit the hell out of the bag of balls while Gray and Eli leaned on the railing next to the batting cage and casually and calmly talked me down from the edge. Pitch by pitch, hit by hit, I felt myself return back to my normal—almost normal—calm self. And with each hit, I could admit I’d overreacted. And with each pitch, I could piece it together and understand that it wasn’t just about the test results.

  Although that was the biggest part of it. Because I was pissed at myself for failing. I could easily add up the places I’d wasted time and could have studied more. I knew the whole office sharing situation had been a stressor. Change was never easy for me. But when emergencies cropped up, we pulled together. Sharing my office under the circumstances was the best solution. Unavoidable what with Sam’s fire. Nothing to do in a tragedy but deal with the cards you’re dealt.

  I got Rhia out of the deal, and sure she was a distraction, but a damn fine distraction. Not complaining about Rhia at all. It’s just that everything together had converged and overloaded the system. My need for control and order had me twitching. Hope’s arrival and the emotions that bubbled up during the wake had me off kilter too.

  “Okay.” I lowered the bat, resting the head against my shoulder. “I’m better. Still pissed at myself about the test, but better. I’m sorry for being a jerk and my outburst.”

  “Hell, Wyatt, that wasn’t an outburst. That was being normal.” Gray held his hand out for the bat and his turn in the cage. “You’re too calm most of the time. You have to throw shit and break stuff to qualify as an outburst.”

  “Are you sure you’re okay?” Eli asked. “I mean, you have a lot going on. You’ve got the exam. You prefer to be alone but have had to share your office. You don’t like change, and we just had a sister we didn’t know about show up, and you’re jealous because you’re not the baby of the family anymore.”

  “I’m not jealous about not being the youngest.” I actually loved the idea of having a younger sister. “I hope she decides to stick around so I could do big brother things for her, like check out a potential date or help her jump-start her car in the winter.”

  Gray shook his head. “Big brothers would load test her battery before winter even arrives.”

  “Damn, I have a lot to learn about being a big brother.”

  “Don’t you forget it,” Gray said, pointing at me with a grin before he turned, ready for the first pitch. “Where there is great power there is great responsibility.”

  “Spider-Man?” Eli crooked an eyebrow.

  “No, Winston Churchill.”

  I knew Gray was joking, but I also knew my brothers did take that responsibility seriously. I didn’t ever forget that.

  “Dude.” Eli punched my upper arm lightly. “You went serious again. Cut it out. What are we going to do about the new receptionist?”

  “Fire her,” Gray said.

  “I usually get to meet the new receptionists before they get fired.” I remembered seeing her the day after Sister had left. And the cat left. Seemed too much like poking myself in the eye to meet the new receptionist, knowing she’d probably be gone soon too. Prophesy fulfilled. Oh, wait a second. “Hold up. Didn’t she quit in the middle of that scene with Hope and the finger gun and Sinclair?”

  “New one.”

  “Already? Who hired her?”

  Eli lifted his bearded chin. “I did. It was my turn. And she’s a nice women and handles the phones well.”

  “When she answers them,” Gray said, rolling his eyes. “She brought in two mini-TVs, so she can watch all her soaps. She’s got one set up on her desk where the computer used to be.”

  Used to be?

  “She set up the other TV in the bathroom, so she doesn’t miss the big wedding.”

  “What big wedding?”

  “Peter and Patty,” Eli said. “Peter was lost at sea, and everyone thought he was dead. For three years. So Patty found consolation in the arms of Palmer. And then Peter returned. Except Patty was pregnant with Palmer’s child. It turns out Palmer is Peter’s son, only no one knew it. Someone shot Peter, and he’s lying in a coma barely alive, and everyone is on the edge of their seats on whether or not Peter will forgive Patty for sleeping with his son and giving birth to his seventeenth bastard grandchild, Petunia.”

  Gray and I stared at Eli.

  “What?” Eli shrugged. “So, I sit and eat my lunch with Trina. It’s called being sociable. If Patty had really loved Peter, this whole situation could have been avoided. She never would have slept with Palmer.”

  We kept staring at Eli.

  “Fine,” Eli said. “I’ll fire her.”

  “Well, thanks for talking me off the ledge. I can retake the test in sixty days, so I’m heading home to start studying.” God, for the first time, my heart wasn’t in it. I was frustrated with myself and my failure.

  “No, not going to happen on my watch,” Gray said. He wrapped one arm around my shoulders and headed all of us out to the parking lot. “It’s possible your failed test is a result of being burned out. All work and too many hours of studying makes Wyatt a dull boy. Let’s go.”

  With Rhia off working her mother’s open house, hanging out with my brothers sounded like just what I needed. “Where are we going?”

  “Big Eddie’s. Eli and I will buy you a burger, a cold beer, and then beat you in a game of pool.”

  “Hey, anyone call Hope? Maybe she wants to hang out with us.”

  “Sam invited her to girls’ night. Said they’d give her all the dirty details about us,” Gray said.

  “Oh, I hope not.” Eli frowned over at us. “I want her to like us.”

  “To know us is to love us.”

  Yeah, I didn’t know about that. Sure didn’t want to scare her back to Arizona too soon before we got to know her.

  Gray glanced my way as we drove in his truck over to Big Eddie’s, the local bar just casual enough not to be too yuppy. “You sure you’re okay? You look tired.”

  “Maybe you should take a break on your testing. Give yourself a rest,” Eli called from the back seat. “It’s not a race, Wyatt.”

  “It’s not the testing.” I wasn’t exactly sure what it was, but I knew some contributing factors: too much change, loss of control, and loss of sleep. Some of that was on account of Rhia. Some wasn’t. “It’s that damn nightmare. It’s back and I’m losing sleep.”

  “The baby again? The last time I had a nightmare with a baby, I’d had a condom accident,” Gray said. “Is that it?”

  “No.” No, Rhia and I had been careful with no condom emergencies.

  Eli nudged my shoulder. “Could be the baby is you. With Hope here, all the talk of Mom may be stirring up all your unresolved issues of abandonment.”

  “Maybe.” I didn’t think so. But damn, I felt a connection to the baby; I just had no idea what it was.

  Chapter 24

  Rhia

  I love my mother. I love my mother. I love my mother.

  “Rhia, this is unacceptable. Do you realize I’m going to have employees wandering through my house? And my gardens, Rhia! My gardens! How in the world did I ever let you talk me into turning the employee appreciation into an open house?”

  Well, Dr. Hollis, it all started when you handed over funds to some lowlife planner you trusted more than your daughter. Trusted him so much you never followed up on his work. If there was work to follow up on. There wasn’t. Because the trusted-more-than-me, lowlife planner decided
the budget was the perfect amount to finance a one-way trip to Mexico.

  “Mom, you gave me three weeks and a shoestring budget to entertain 143 employees. Trust me when I say that, number one: This was your only option. And number two: It’s still going to be fabulous, and I can guarantee you’ll get rave reviews.”

  “This is quite the step down from last year’s sit-down luncheon,” she hissed at me so as not to be overheard by the caterers setting up nearby. “I’m utterly embarrassed that my first year as chair of the Department of Orthopedic surgery, this—this is what I’m passing off. It’s cheap and tacky, Rhia, that’s what it is.”

  “No, it’s not. Opening your own house and inviting your employees in says you consider them like part of your family. People will be impressed with your warmth and generosity. They’ll love you for it, even more than I’m sure they already do.” Lord help them if they did, although she did actually gush over her students more than she’d ever gushed over me. “It’s not cheap and tacky. It’s simple and chic.”

  “Where’s the buffet I wanted? I specifically asked for a buffet. A buffet looks lavish.”

  “A buffet requires a lavish budget. Mom, please trust me. This is my go-to caterer. Her food is divine. She was also kind enough to fit your event in at the last minute as a favor to me. So please keep your voice down, so we don’t insult her.” Thank goodness Molly was a good friend, and I’d warned her ahead of time about my mother. Dr. Hollis wasn’t called Dr. Dragon for nothing. Luckily, Molly was looking for a way to get her foot in the door for catering more events for the big universities in the area, and UNC was one of the biggest, so she was willing to brave the dragon with me.

  “Hors d’oeuvres are not even close to last year’s event. They had actual meals on china,” she said loud enough for everyone on the first floor to hear.

  Nice, Mom. I thought about explaining that a china plate didn’t make bland, sauce-covered, rubbery chicken dishes taste better, but decided it would be a waste of effort and time.

  “You will have people raving about the mini chicken and waffle bites and sweet potato and crab puffs for years. They’re that good.”

  Her eyes continued to scan over her open floor plan of her excessively large Georgian-style home. It really was the perfect showcase for an open house. I felt very strongly that this was not only a great decision—it had been the only option on the table. This would work. This had to work. If ever I had the chance for my parents to see what I do, to see that I was excellent at event planning, this was it. Even with the short notice and even shorter funds, this was going to be magical. I felt it already.

  “Well, the flowers are nice, if a little on the sparse side,” she said.

  I smiled across at Frank and gave him a big thumbs-up from where he was arranging the last vase of deep pink lilies. He winked back at me. Another friend in the business who’d come through for me in a big way. I checked over the list in my hand: florist, check. Caterer, check. I could hear the string quartet warming up, so check. I needed to check-in with the parking attendants, and—

  “Do you really think two bars are enough?”

  “Yes, Mom, two bars for this number of guests is plenty.” Looking around, I did see one problem, though. I only saw one bartender. And from my vantage point, looking out at the patio through the large picture window, I had a front row seat as the ice sculpture of Minerva, goddess of medicine, toppled over. Her head broke off and rolled like a bowling ball across the patio until it came to a stop in the rhododendron bushes. Yikes. “Mom, I think I hear Liza calling you upstairs.”

  “Why would Liza call me? She already did my hair.”

  “She did? Oh. I guess the breeze disheveled it. You might want to go let her fix it. Everything is fine here and right on schedule. Your first guests are due to arrive in…forty minutes.” I had less than an hour to track down my missing bartender, check on reattaching Minerva’s head, and deal with the faint flash of red and blue lights out front, which probably meant I had a problem with the parking.

  “Sandy!” I called to the one bartender who was frantically setting up the bar in the formal living room. “Where’s Ted? Running a bit late?”

  “God, Rhia, I wish. He’s not picking up his phone. Plus, he promised he’d bring a friend to help. So, we’re down two. I’ve got a call in to three back-ups, and if they don’t call me, I’m taking Ted off my list of people I’m willing to donate a kidney to.” She shot a frantic look my way. “I’m sorry. If you’ve got someone who could tend, that would be awesome.”

  “I’ll start making calls. You can tell Ted I’m not giving him a kidney, either.” Crap. I started running possible bartenders through my head on my way out to handle the police lights. By the time I got out to the front porch, though, my father had handled the situation with the slip of a few bills and the promise of another parking attendant.

  Double crap. Two bartenders, one parking attendant, one reattached head on an ice sculpture—the shattering of glass from inside caught my attention—one quick glass clean-up. Event planning was like herding cats, on fire, while a dog chased them.

  I hustled inside, checking my phone when a text sounded. If I was living right, it would be my back-up bartender.

  It was Wyatt checking up on me. He knew I was more than stressed about making sure my mother’s event was spectacular.

  Wyatt: How’s it going so far? You hanging in there?

  Me: It’s a mess. I’m short 2 bartenders, 1 parking attendant, and the ice sculpture mother *had to have* was decapitated. Other than that—awesome.

  I swung through the kitchen to check on the glass breakage.

  “No worries! Under control here.” Molly waved me off, which was perfect, since I heard my dad hollering for me from the front door and another text sounded on my phone.

  Please be Ted.

  Not Ted. Wyatt.

  Wyatt: You’re in luck. Hanging out with G and E. E says he’ll park cars. G and I will tend bar. White shirt, black pants?

  Me: I’d tell you I’ll have your baby, but…already having your triplets. :o Will owe you big and thank you!!!!

  “Rhia!” my dad called again.

  I made my way to the foyer. “Dad, I’m on it. I’ve got an attendant on the way. He’ll be here before the guests begin arriving.”

  “You sure you know what you’re doing, Rhianna?” My father’s face let me know his opinion to that question clear as day.

  “Yes, Dad. Things rarely run smoothly during an event. It’s how the planner solves the problems that crop up that make all the difference.” I was being cut no slack for how I’d been handed this job. Three weeks with only a quarter of the budget, but I was supposed to work miracles. Fine. I’d bust my butt to give them miracles. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’ve got a surgery to perform.”

  Luckily, he thought I was joking. I was not. Minerva needed her head or Dr. Hollis might have a complete meltdown. Ha! Meltdown…ice sculpture. I laughed at my private joke. Lame, yes, but better than crying over all the things going wrong.

  I borrowed Molly’s butane torch she used for making crème brûlée and tackled the headless goddess. With the torch, I was able to melt the stub of the neck and stick Minerva’s head back on. Next, I wrapped one of my mom’s ace bandages from her tennis bag around the seam and wrapped a school scarf around that, thus hiding the whole surgical procedure. Minerva looked like a diehard Carolina fan with a crick in her neck. Awesome.

  Here’s hoping Minerva and I both kept our heads. I glanced at the time on my phone and realized guests would be arriving any minute. I made my way through to the kitchen to check in with catering. Molly was on her A-game, and they were ready to go with the first appetizers. From the kitchen, I moved through the living and dining rooms, stopping to see how Sandy was holding up. I wanted to reassure her my back-up bartenders would be here any minute to help.

  �
�Oh my God, Rhia. I don’t know where you got those bartenders but wow. The waitresses are already giggly and drooling over them.”

  Wyatt and Gray were here. Nice. “I don’t know if they know how to bartend, but they can at least hand out beer and wine.”

  “They could hand out pickle juice, and I doubt a single woman would complain.” Sandy waggled her eyebrows. “Feel free to send one to work at my station. I feel sure I’ll need the help.”

  “Will do.” Not on your life. I felt a bit possessive of the Thorne brothers. It was crazy, and I had no right to them, but I did. Especially the one I was fake-dating and fake-pregnant by. I was so tempted to track them down and get a look at them, but I needed to find my parents, so they could meet and greet their guests in the foyer.

  I found my mother up in her room with Steph, switching to her flat comfortable shoes already while Steph told her about some new job offer they both seemed excited about.

  “Hey, Steph. You look great!” She really did. Instead of my wild, red hair, Steph had well-behaved hair the color of rich chocolate, which I’d coveted my whole life. When I saw my sister dressed up, I agreed with my Aunt Ada. She liked to say I must have been daydreaming when God handed all the good stuff out, and Steph got my share and hers. “Mom, I need you in the foyer to greet the guests. The first ones are pulling up now.”

  Dad was already hiding in his study, so I pulled him out and forced him to play host next to Mom. They worked for universities; you’d think they’d have the meet and greet deal down. Once the guests began arriving, it became nonstop coordination and troubleshooting. It was exhilarating and exhausting.

  When I had time to check on Wyatt and Gray, they had a crowd around their bar. And it wasn’t because they were slow. No, the two of them actually knew what they were doing and were pretty amazing to watch. Which would explain the crowd. Mostly female, but not all. Wyatt caught my eye and smiled. Gray threw me a wink and then went right on serving drinks and flirting outrageously.

  The catering staff moved the trays of to-die-for food through the crowd. It didn’t take each tray long to come back to the kitchen empty and needing a refill. I heard oohs and ahs over the flowers and the food and the house and the music. And especially over the hot bartenders.