by Mia Kayla
"Make a wish!" Jordan said, shaking Stacy's shoulders lightly.
Stacy beamed at her son, her eyes crinkling with pride. "I wish for what I wish every year. For my boys' happiness." She pointed to Jordan with a gleam in her eye. "And for Jordan Ryder to finally settle down with a nice girl."
His smile faltered, his mood dampening, and I knew what had triggered the change—Candice.
"Mom, you're wasting your wishes," he said, his voice whisper soft, his joyful demeanor flipping off like a switch.
She reached behind her and grabbed his fingers, placing both of her hands on top of his. "Someday, it'll happen. It happened once. It’ll happen again. You'll see. You'll fall in love again, Jordan. I know."
He nodded, and in that very instant, he seemed so lost, so vulnerable, just like a child. His eyes became distant, a cloudy murky blue, and I knew in the deepest part of me, he could only be thinking about Candice.
Stacy closed her eyes tightly, and I held my breath.
Her new beginning.
And then she blew out her old life and wished.
Everyone in the room cheered and clapped and hollered.
Cade kissed my head again, which made me think about Jordan's wish. "How about Bella?"
"What?'
"For Jordan," I clarified.
My eyes darted between Jordan and Bella, the happy-go-lucky nursing home planner, but Cade slowly shook his head. "Nope. She's off limits. She's too nice of a girl."
My head tilted, weighing out the reasons why they should be together. "You don't want your brother to be with a nice girl?"
"Of course, I do. But Jordan needs someone just like him. He's not ready to settle down, and he'd chew Bella up and leave nothing left. And I like Bella. She's a good girl and that's why I told Jordan to stay away."
"And he'll listen?" I asked staring at the actor extraordinaire.
"It's not like he hasn't before. And he knows better." I peered up into my boyfriend's eyes and made note of the hard lines on his face. I doubted that there was anyone that went against Cade's wishes.
After I assisted Bella in passing around the cake to Stacy and her friends, I sat in the corner with my dessert taking in the scene before me. Jordan occupied the vacant seat beside me. "So, Angelica … when is the date?"
I blinked. "What date?"
"The wedding date."
I laughed, half coughed on the cake I was picking at. His words weren't too far-fetched. I thought of forever, more with Cade in the short time we'd been together than with Roland and the many years we'd spent together.
"There's no date. We haven't been together that long."
He peered over to his brother who was chitchatting with Wyatt, making their mother cry with laughter. "Cade is a serious settling type. Once he's committed, he's committed for life. I've never met anyone so loyal. So, baby girl," he said as he patted my knee, "it's only a matter of time, so you'd better pick that dress now."
"You're nuts," I said, half-laughing, half-crazy myself because it had crossed my mind.
"Yes. I don't doubt that. But in all honesty, I'm just happy he's finally found someone." He leaned back in his chair, staring at his brother. "Cade has been taking care of this family for so long. Taking on the burden of caring for mom. He didn't want any help at first until we didn't give him an option. Thing is ... she's Wyatt and my mom, too. Not by blood, but by everything a mother is." A soft smile touched his face. "He's always worried about everyone else's happiness. I'm just glad he has someone that makes him happy for once. "
In the short time I'd known Cade, there was no doubt he was one with character and strength and felt the pressure of making everything right in the world before tending to himself. He took care of me with such fierceness, and because of that, I loved him beyond what was comprehendible. "I'm glad, too." I placed my palm over Jordan's on his knee and gave it a little shake. "How about I invite you to the wedding?"
He scoffed. "I better be in the wedding. I think I'll be the best man since I called your wedding first."
"Jordan," Wyatt called over. "You getting fresh with Cade's girl?"
Cade's whole body flipped toward our direction, and his eyes narrowed. But Jordan egged his brother on and pulled my chair closer to his and threw an arm over my shoulder. "Play along, little sis. Let's see how pissed we can get him."
When Jordan leaned in closer to whisper something in my ear, Cade stalked toward us, lips pressed together, face serious. He didn't even have a chance to pull Jordan off me because Jordan jumped to a standing position with both hands up. "Just playing, big brother. I know what's off-limits."
Cade huffed. "Not funny." He intertwined our hands and kissed the top of my fist, claiming me for himself.
"Aw, how precious," Jordan cooed.
I could tell Cade was irked by Jordan's teasing, aloof manner.
"Don't you have to fix the sink at the house before you leave?" Cade asked.
Jordan scratched at his eyebrow. "Yeah, shit. I need to get that done before I go back to Cali."
"Not before Mom has her dance." Cade tilted his head toward Wyatt who was holding a remote control.
"Oh, yeah, bro. My favorite part of Mom's birthday. That and the ink."
With one click on Wyatt's remote, the song "Mama” by Boys II Men began to play in the background. "Excuse me, beautiful. Mama needs her dance." Cade planted a chaste kiss on my lips before joining Jordan and Wyatt in the center of the room where their mother sat in her wheelchair. Cade was the first to lift her from her chair. He carried her as though she weighed no more than a feather and they swayed to the music, to the beats and words of the sweet song.
Unfallen tears trembled beneath my eyelids as I watched their closeness. My mind flickered to their past when tragedy hit. Cade had said she was a dancer and that she taught dance classes for a living. A pain squeezed my heart thinking that fate had not only taken Stacy's daughter and her husband but her legs, too—her livelihood. But as I continued to marvel in the interaction between mother and son and their happiness, I realized she was completely whole.
She pulled back, and they shared some words that made her laugh. The upper body strength that Cade had was amazing that he could hold his mother for half the song and still balance while she pulled away to hold a conversation.
The two other boys stood in a horizontal line, their faces anxious, waiting for their turn, and it took all my strength to stand there and not bawl my eyes out at their love for their mother, their strength through their tragedy and the force of my man, not just his muscle strength but the depth of his heart—their hearts.
After Cade guided Stacy into Jordan's arms, he walked toward me, his eyes misty. He extended a hand, and when I placed my fingers against his, he twirled me around and pulled me toward him, chest to chest.
"Just so you know, I have two left feet," I said.
"Just so you know, I'm a great dancer." The warmth of his smile echoed in his voice.
"Of that, I have no doubt." I noticed the people around us moving toward the dance floor, older couples dancing. Others standing around swaying side to side. My eyes moved to Jordan and Stacy. She was laughing uncontrollably, and you'd think he'd be someone struggling as he carried her weight and held up a conversation, but he glided around the dance floor effortlessly and with ease.
"Cade, that is the sweetest thing. "
"She thought it was ridiculous, at first. Until one day, Jordan just picked her up to dance, and she began to cry. My mother was nicknamed Twinkle Toes because of her ability to dance. She made it look so easy." He smiled as Wyatt took over as lead, dancing with less grace and style. "And now it's a birthday tradition."
Wyatt counted steps while dancing. One-together. Two-Together. Slide-one. Slide-two. He didn't struggle carrying her, but he did struggle with not knowing where to lead them next.
I watched him and Stacy dance with awe and thought of all the heartache they'd all endured.
The music changed to an upbeat tempo
, and Cade motioned us to the side to sit. Soon, Bella and Wyatt joined us. Minutes turned into an hour as we all watched and witnessed the senior citizens getting down and dancing their arthritis out.
Soon after the dancing was done, the crowd cleared out, and the only ones left cleaning the room were Bella, Cade, Wyatt, and me. Jordan had left earlier after his slow dance to take care of things at the house.
Stacy sat in her wheelchair rereading cards that people had given her.
Her smile was infectious, and I'd given anything to get a sneak peek at what some of her friends had sent her. The first card she opened was a picture of a guy's ass. Who knew what was on the inside of the card, but his ass was on the outside for everyone to see.
She threw back her head and let out a great peal of laughter that carried throughout the room. I'd bet that there were more raunchy cards in the mix. Cade and Wyatt merely smiled.
"Do you ever wonder why people are put in nursing homes?” Wyatt asked. There was depth to his thoughts, and I read a storm brewing behind his dark brown irises.
Cade rolled his eyes while Bella piped up to answer him.
"Well, for different reasons. Some just can't provide the twenty-four-hour care for their parents anymore. They have kids and work and life."
"So, they just get tossed in here because they don't want to be bothered or burdened," he stated matter-of-factly. There was a hard, cold bitterness in his tone. "Just like kids in a foster home." Although Jordan and Wyatt came from the system, there was no doubt that Wyatt was still battling with some abandonment issues.
"Wyatt, some people come here because they want to, too. It's not a jail. They want to associate and live in a community that's welcoming." Bella placed a consoling hand on his forearm. "It's not a prison sentence being in here, Wyatt. This nursing home is not like others. We're a family here."
His chin dipped to his neck, and his gaze dropped to the floor. "I'm sorry," he said.
"Or you come here like Mom because you don't want to be a burden to anyone else," Cade spoke up.
Wyatt clenched his jaw, his face clouding with unease. "I fucking hate that she thinks that."
"I can hear you," Stacy chimed in with her cheery cherry-on-top voice. She wheeled herself over to where we were seated. "Just so I'm clear for Angelica because I've repeated myself a million times to my boys, I came here because I wanted to. For a multitude of reasons, but at the end of the day, I'm happy. I don't feel like a cripple here. I have friends, and as long as your mom is happy, that's all that matters, right, Wyatt?"
She placed her hand in his, and his whole posture relaxed. In the quietest voice, he said, "Yeah, Mom. All I want is you happy."
“Hello, my family.” Our heads poked at the entrance where Jordan strolled in.
"I thought you were fixing that sink," Cade uttered.
"Well, I brought you all a surprise."
We all peered up, and I blinked, stunned speechless.
A dead weight filled my chest, and a dread filled my veins.
Automatically, I stood.
It was my sister.
Chapter 24
Tene ran in wearing white shorts and a black, fitted tank top. Her hair was pulled up in a high messy bun. Sheer black fear shown through her eyes.
My every nerve was on end, and the hairs on the nape of my neck were standing at attention. Something was wrong. We were hours away from Rosendell.
She rushed toward me and threw her arms around my shoulders. "Angie," she gushed out, "I tried calling you, but your phone kept going to voice mail."
She fell into me, forcing me to support most of her weight. "I left my phone in Rosendell. What's the matter?"
I pulled back and searched her face. The fact that Tene was showing weakness in front of people she didn't even know meant that this was bad, like third-degree-burns bad. "What’re you doing here, Tene?"
She shook her head and surveyed the room, her back straightening, her chin tipping upward as though she just noticed that we weren't alone. "I need to talk to you in private." Desperation, stark and vivid, filtered in her eyes.
"Well, before you talk to her in private, let me introduce you to the group." Jordan grabbed Tene's hand. You couldn't ignore the way Jordan’s eyes roamed my sister's beach-bomb body, or the way his stare traveled up the length of her legs, lingering on her chest, then stayed planted on her face.
Cade must’ve sensed it, too, because his eyes zoned in on their intertwined fingers.
"Mom, this is Christene, Angelica's sister. She doesn't watch television much or movies or award shows." He lifted both eyebrows and slowly nodded like he couldn't believe it himself. "Basically, she's not on the up-and-up with pop culture."
It took all my energy to compose myself. And was she serious? My sister was pretending she didn't know who Jordan Ryder was, as in the Jordan Ryder? She had his damn calendar on the back of her bathroom door.
Tene, with her sweet seductive smile, peered up at him. "Too busy leading our real estate company, I guess." She shrugged, and that earned a chuckle from Cade.
She eyed him in warning as if to say, “you better play my game or else I'll cut your balls and feed them to you.”
As I glanced around the room, I realized Jordan was the only one who was fooled.
"Well, it's nice to meet you, Christene. Are you hungry? We have left over cake." Stacy motioned to the table of goodies at the far end of the room.
Tene gnawed on her lip and shook her head, her eyes darting at the slew of people around us. "No, thank you." Her eyes flickered over to me, as though she remembered why she’d driven hours to see me. "Angie, can we have a moment? We have to head home."
My stomach dropped, and I stepped toward her. "Is it Dad?"
Her eyes glazed over, and, in that instant, I knew that it was. That her trip here had everything to do with our father.
My voice reached a hysterical tone, fear choking me. "What is it? What happened? Is he okay?"
"Let's give them a few minutes," Stacy said, reading my thoughts.
It wasn't like they were going to clear the area, so I ignored their worried faces and gripped Tene's hand, dragging her to the bathroom on the side of the room and locked us both in.
As soon as I shut the door, she let the tears flow. "Dad … Dad …” she said it in a rushed, broken puff, on the verge of hysteria.
I grabbed her shoulders and shook her once. "Tene! What happened?"
She took a deep breath. "He wasn't feeling well and passed out, so he went into the hospital, and now he needs bypass surgery."
The air pushed out of my lungs like a wind tunnel, the gust strong enough that I had to grip the sink to keep me steady.
One hand cupped my mouth as tears filled my eyes. "Is he okay?"
"I think so. He's staying in the hospital until the surgery. But Angie ..." She sobbed. "All he asks is for you, and Mom said to bring you back. He just wants to see you and talk to you, and, when I couldn't reach you or Cade, I went to the bar, looking for him, and that bartender girl at Allswell told me where you went."
Both of my hands gripped the counter to keep me upright. Maybe I had caused this. Maybe he knew what was going on. He had sensed something was wrong at my birthday party.
"Does he know where I am? About Cade?"
She wiped her cheeks with the back of her hand. It was one of the very few times I'd ever seen Tene so vulnerable, and it broke me.
"No, I don't think so," she answered, her cheeks stained with tears.
I extended my hand, palm up. "Give me your phone. I need to hear for myself that he's okay." She’d said he was okay, but I wanted to talk to my daddy.
She dug her phone from the bottom of her purse and handed it to me. Since he was in the hospital, there was no way he was answering his cell, so I called the hospital directly and asked to be connected to his room.
When the operator picked up, I asked for my father. "This is his daughter, Angelica Armstrong."
My mother picked
up on the second ring, her voice soft and tired and defeated.
"Mom, it's me. Can I talk to Dad?"
"Where are you, honey?"
"I'm with Tene. Mom, can I just talk to him?" The need to talk to my father overtook everything else.
"Okay," she said softly. "I'll give the phone to him, but please, honey, just come straight here."
I slumped against the side of the sink, while Tene bit at her pinky nail, watching me through tear-filled eyes.
When I heard my father's voice, the tears started rolling down my face, like boulders down a mountain. "Daddy?" I choked out. "Are you okay?" God, it hurt; it hurt that he wasn't well. It hurt that I wasn't there to hug him. It hurt to think I had somehow contributed to his stress.
"Angie ..." His voice was gruff and tired and all-my-daddy. "Are you crying?"
"No," I said through all my sniffles, lying through my teeth.
"Don't cry, Angie. I swear I just like to keep things interesting for your mother." He was silent for a beat before he spoke again. "You were the only one not here when it happened."
"I'm so, so sorry, Daddy." More tears blinded my eyes and choked my voice. Tene fidgeted beside me, biting her lip to control her sobs. Her eyes were swollen and puffy and red. She most likely had cried all the way here.
"I ... I just had to tell the people that mean so much to me that I love them. How very proud I am of you, and ..."
"Dad, stop talking like you're going to die." My voice was whisper soft, choked with heavy emotion.
He let out a low laugh. "I'm not dying any time soon. Who will look after your mother? Tene?" His tone was amused, which I took as a good sign. At least his sense of humor hadn’t left him.
I shook my head through the blur of water in my eyes. My sister would be the first one to ship her to a nursing home.
"Dad, what did the doctor say?"
"I'm having surgery again tomorrow morning. Bypass surgery."
I swallowed hard. "I'll be there. I promise."
"Where are you, honey?"
"Somewhere close." I wasn’t specific because I should be the last of his worries. "Rest up tonight because tomorrow you have another big day."