by Sandy James
“This was a test?”
She shook her head adamantly. “No. Not at all. It was my hormones reasserting themselves. But… it did show me something.”
Holding back his anger, he asked, “What exactly did it show you?”
“That Ben Carpenter is a man of his word.”
Chapter Thirteen
She felt like shit.
Mallory hadn’t realized how bad she looked until three pairs of concerned eyes fixed on her the moment she sat down for lunch. So much for keeping things to herself… Her fault for not realizing the women she saw almost every day knew her far too well to let her keep anything from them.
“What’s wrong?” Juliana asked.
Lying to them was nothing but wasted breath, so she decided to let them in on her decision. “The surgeon put a stretcher in after school on Friday. Blew it up a little more this morning. Hurts like hell.”
“Surgeon?” Jules knit her brows. “Stretcher? What are you talking about?”
“Yeah… um… I’ve been meaning to tell you all something.” Mallory took a breath, bracing herself for their reactions. “I decided to go ahead with the breast reconstruction.”
“I thought you wanted to wait awhile,” Juliana insisted. “You said you weren’t ready to put yourself through another surgery.”
“Yeah, well.” She shrugged before flinching at the pain it caused.
As usual, Jules assumed she understood everything perfectly. “You’re doing it for him. That’s why you didn’t talk to us about it first. Shit, Mal… you’ve only been going out with the guy a couple of months.”
“I can’t believe you didn’t say a word.” Danielle’s hurt tone felt like a slap.
What was she supposed to say? These women had helped her through the worst experiences of her life. Why was she keeping the best experience, her growing attachment to Ben, such a big secret?
“I’m not doing it for him,” Mallory insisted. The throbbing in her chest was incessant, and she seriously considered taking some of the Vicodin the doctor had given her for the pain. She’d decided to try to muddle through without it, especially while she was at school.
“What’s a stretcher?” Danielle asked, fishing her lunch out and setting the items on the table.
“A balloon thingy,” Mallory replied. “It’s under the skin. Gets blown up to stretch my skin enough for the implant to fit.”
Cradling her left arm close to her, she popped the top on her Diet Coke with her right. Maybe the caffeine would help. A quick check of the clock said it was too soon for more ibuprofen. The Vicodin was sounding better and better. The only thing preventing her from hunting the bottle down that moment was that the painkiller made her too sleepy to do her job. She would also hate the irony of telling kids to stay off drugs while taking her own.
“I know you better than anyone, Mal,” Jules said. “You don’t have a vain bone in your body. You wouldn’t put yourself through that kind of pain just to get your boob back. You’re doing it for him.”
“Cut her some slack, Jules,” Bethany said. “She’s in a new relationship.”
“So?”
“So… would you want to sleep with a guy if you were afraid he’d be turned off by you having one boob?”
“That’s not why I’m having the surgery. Besides, I haven’t slept with him.” Not yet.
Danielle’s eyes widened. “You mean he hasn’t seen your scar? I assumed…”
“I haven’t slept with him.”
Not that she hadn’t wanted to. Sweet Lord, they were like a couple of teenagers whenever they found privacy, which wasn’t often enough. He worked so much, and he was such a good father, one who believed in spending time with his daughter. Mallory couldn’t fault him for that. She’d known far too many students who barely saw their parents, and they always suffered for that neglect. His time with Amber took time away from her, and she was juggling an odd sense of jealousy at their relationship, especially when she and Amber were still trying to get to know each other.
“But you want to. That’s why you’re doing this.” Jules took a big bite of her celery stalk and glared at Mallory.
The way Juliana was acting was precisely why Mallory hadn’t called her to discuss the procedure. She’d shared all the rest of the ups and downs of her two-month relationship with the Ladies, but with each new tale, Jules’s annoyance rose another notch. She’d been Mallory’s best friend since the moment they first met, and she had to feel as if Mallory was putting Ben before her.
That wasn’t true—at least not entirely true. Starting a new relationship was difficult at best. Sure, Ben was an easy guy to like. He was polite and sweet and so very patient with her. But the fears she harbored because of Jay’s abandonment were always there, right below the surface.
Jay had disappeared because of a diagnosis. What would Ben do when he saw what remained of the left side of her chest?
“I’m doing this for me,” Mallory maintained. “I’m tired of my clothes not fitting right. I’m tired of worrying whether my falsie is gonna slip out. I’m tired of looking in the mirror and seeing that… that… scar. I want my body back.”
At least Juliana had the sense to appear somewhat contrite as she munched on her celery. She wasn’t the kind of person who liked having her bad behavior pointed out. Any type of criticism always elicited a pout before she realized her error.
“We need to decide who’s driving next weekend for the Miracle Mile trip,” Danielle said. “God, I’ve looked forward to that. Just two days of shopping and eating out.”
“Shit. I’m sorry. I—I forgot.”
“Forgot?” Danielle cocked her head. “We do this every fall break. I didn’t think we’d need to remind you.”
“I know we always go. I should’ve remembered,” Mallory replied. “Look, I can’t go. I let it slip my mind. I’ll be in Chicago… with Ben.”
“Ben?” Bethany shifted her gaze to Jules as though she was the one who should be asking. “Why are you going to Chicago with Ben on our Miracle Mile weekend?”
“I got tickets for us to take Amber to a gymnastics exhibition. First time I get to spend some time with her.”
Bethany cocked her head. “I thought you’d met her.”
“I did. But it was just a McDonald’s supper after one of her gymnastics lessons.”
“You’re really not going with us?” Danielle’s tone was more hurt than angry, which only made Mallory feel worse.
“I’m sorry. We’ll do it next year. Okay?”
“Just like our trip to Brown County,” Jules said with a huff. “What were you doing with Ben that weekend?”
“I said I was sorry.” Mallory was in too much pain to eat anything else. That and her rising anger made her stomach churn.
“You’ve been sorry a lot lately.” Juliana drilled holes through Mallory with her sharp eyes.
“You don’t want to change your life for him.” Bethany popped her soda open, though her gaze never left Mallory’s.
“What are you talking about? How am I changing my life?”
“I’ve seen it happen before,” Beth replied. “You’re spending all the time with him that you used to with us. You’re making you boyfriend more important than anything else, including your best friends.”
“It’s a new relationship, Beth. It takes time to get to know each other.”
“It shouldn’t take all your time,” Danielle said. “It should be something that feels natural, something that enhances your life. Definitely not something you have to do every single minute of every single day.”
“Definitely not something to have major surgery over,” Juliana added.
As if Mallory’s nerves weren’t already shot to hell worrying about whether Amber would accept her… They’d have to spend a lot of time together on the trip—a two-hour drive to Chicago and another long ride back. Mallory couldn’t help but worry that she’d say or do the wrong thing and make Amber dislike her.
Then what would
Ben do? Leave her to please his daughter?
That thought was unbearable.
Her feelings were already so tangled up in Ben Carpenter, she wasn’t sure how devastated she’d be if he left. She couldn’t even think about it without getting nauseated.
And now the people she depended on, her friends, were picking a fight. A missed trip to spend money they really didn’t have on clothes, shoes, and purses they didn’t need?
Why couldn’t they understand how much time went into developing a new relationship?
On the other hand, all three of them were making good points, and she’d be a hypocrite if she didn’t accept criticism any better than Juliana. Mallory had given Ben more time than she had the friends who’d helped her through everything life had thrown her way. After everything they’d done for her, they deserved better.
Mallory heaved a sigh. “I’m sorry. You’re right. I didn’t mean to make you think I was choosing Ben over you guys.”
“It’s okay,” Bethany said.
“No,” Jules insisted. “It’s not.”
“She said she was sorry.” Danielle, as usual, was trying to keep the peace. “Now tell us about the surgery.”
Thankful for the diversion, Mallory did what she should have done in the first place—she confided in her friends. “I’m going to have it over Christmas break. Gives me plenty of time get the skin stretched enough and to recover without missing school.”
“What can we do to help?” Bethany asked. Her kindness was as exceptional as her continued optimism.
“I’ll let you know,” Mallory replied. “Right now, I just need some painkillers and a long nap. This stretcher hurts like fire.”
Beth’s eyes were full of concern. “How often do you have to have it inflated? I’d hate to think of you feeling like this all the way to Christmas.”
“It’s supposed to ease when the skin expands. At least I hope so.” While her instinct was to rub it to make the throbbing stop, Mallory had immediately learned that wasn’t helpful. Not in the least. What she needed was Vicodin and ice packs, both of which she could have as soon as the school day ended. “I have to have it inflated a few more times at least until the skin’s stretched enough for the implant.”
“You’re not having silicone, right?” At least Juliana could do something besides get mad at her.
Mallory shook her head. “Saline. I don’t think anyone does silicone now. Too many problems.”
“Are you sure you want this? That you’re not doing it for him?”
“He has a name, Jules. He’s my boyfriend now. Can’t you accept him?”
She rolled her green eyes. “Fine. Ben. Are you sure you’re not doing this for Ben?”
“I’m doing it for a lot of reasons, including Ben. Okay?”
With a curt nod, Juliana closed up her container of vegetables and reached for her Snickers bar.
Mallory considered asking for a bite. Maybe chocolate would help the pain.
“Tell us about the thing you’re going to,” Bethany said. “Something about gymnastics?”
“Amber takes gymnastic classes,” Mallory replied. “She loves the sport. When Ben told me he was thinking about taking her to Chicago for some big exhibition, I asked if I could get the tickets.”
“You’re trying to bribe the kid.” Jules had never shied from telling everyone exactly what was on her mind.
“I hadn’t thought about it that way. Yeah, I want her to like me. But a bribe?”
Mallory hated to admit it, but perhaps it was a bribe. What was she supposed to say? That she craved being with Ben? That he was dark chocolate to her, an addiction so overpowering she couldn’t fight it? That keeping him meant winning over his daughter?
At least they’d have a long day to spend together. He’d taken another contracting job, one Robert helped him find that seemed to require overtime every day. The work on her house had ground to a screeching halt, but she never complained. The place wasn’t going anywhere, and she knew he’d get to it as soon as he could.
Ben had never come out and said it, but he didn’t have a lot of money. He was raising Amber with no help from his ex-wife. She’d seen an eye-popping bill for Amber’s braces sitting on the truck bench. Did he even have insurance? Medical or dental?
The trip to Chicago might be too much of a luxury for him to manage, so Mallory bought the tickets and insisted they take her SUV instead of his truck. That way she could pay for the gas, too. Ben got to take his daughter to something she really wanted to see, and Mallory got to be his knight in shining armor.
But a bribe?
Juliana was drumming her fingers on the table, her sign that she was waiting for Mallory’s concession of the obvious.
“Fine! It’s a bribe. Okay?”
Jules only nodded as a smile tugged at the corners of her mouth.
* * *
Ben reached across to put his hand on Mallory’s thigh, hoping to ease whatever fears were tumbling through her mind. “It’ll be fine.”
She gave him a brisk nod, but her hands still trembled as she drove.
Why had she worked herself into such a bundle of nerves? She’d already met Amber. They’d had one supper together, although that had been fast food and a rather quick episode. Despite his daughter’s misgivings at his dating, especially exclusively, Amber had been cordial.
Perhaps that was the problem—Mallory wasn’t used to kids being merely cordial.
A couple of times when they went out, she’d bumped into students, current and former. They’d fawned over her, telling her how much they loved her class or missed seeing her. Amber had been polite but quiet.
“Amber’s looking forward to the trip.” There. That reassurance would help Mallory get past her anxiety.
She didn’t make a peep.
“It was great of you to get tickets. I wish you’d let me pay you back.”
“No, Ben. I wanted to do this. For Amber.”
“Think you can bribe her into being your new best friend?”
“You think I got the tickets to bribe her into liking me?”
His sense of humor needed an adjustment. “I was just teasing. Trying to get you to loosen up a little. What’s got you so worried?”
“I’m not.”
“Mal…” He hated to remind her of their “rule,” fearing sounding like a scolding parent.
“I’m not worried. Honest. I’m just… in pain.” After pulling up next to his house, she jammed the car into park.
“Pain?” He gave her a quick head-to-toe appraisal. Nothing seemed out of place. “Headache?”
From the way she hesitated, it was easy to see she was trying to decide whether to tell the truth. He had no idea what that meant.
“Are you sick to your stomach?” he asked.
She shook her head.
“Why won’t you tell me?”
After a long sigh, she finally gave in. “My chest hurts.”
“You’re having chest pains?”
“No. Not like that. Can we drop this?”
“When you’re in pain?” He gave his head a shake. “Honesty, Mal.”
“I’m having my breast reconstructed.” Her voice was hushed.
While she’d told him about her cancer and her chemo, she’d never once told him she was considering having more surgery. Then again, once she’d shared the story of her diagnosis, mastectomy, and recovery, he’d assumed the topic had been laid to rest.
Ben was at a loss. Not only didn’t he understand why her making plans to have her breast reconstructed would be causing her pain now, he wasn’t sure why she even thought she needed to have the procedure.
For all the weeks they’d been together, he’d never made a move to touch her chest. Their passion hadn’t dimmed. Far from it. Whenever they kissed, sparks flew. He hadn’t pushed her for more, not because he didn’t desire her. She’d wound him up so tight, there were a few times he’d returned from a date to take matters into his own hands so he didn’t implode. Or ex
plode.
Soon. At least that’s what he’d hoped.
Now he was afraid he’d pushed too hard. Why else would she be thinking about having surgery to repair her breast? She had to assume she needed to be “fixed” before they made love.
“Are you doing this for me?” Ben needed to know she wasn’t going to put herself through surgery to please him.
“No.”
“Seriously, Mallory. I don’t want you doing this for me.”
Her brown eyes grew stormy. “Why would you think I’d do it for you?”
There were plenty of reasons, none of which he wanted to voice. What if her feelings didn’t run as deep as his? No way he’d bare his mind to her. It was far too soon. Hell, he wasn’t even sure exactly what he felt for her.
He shrugged.
“You sound like my friends,” Mallory grumbled, popping open her seat belt. She was out of the SUV before he could figure out what she meant.
She waited on the stoop, although only the storm door was closed.
Amber stood just inside, shoving her arms into her jacket.
Ben reached around Mallory to pull the door open. “Go on in.”
She stepped inside. “Hi, Amber.”
Jerking up her zipper, Amber replied, “Hi.” She didn’t smile until Ben was inside. “Can we stop and get a drink for the road?”
“Um… Mal’s not feeling so hot, Amber.”
His daughter’s brown eyes fixed on Mallory. “You mean we’re not going?”
“She’s—”
“Fine,” Mallory insisted. “She’s fine and ready to go. I’ve been waiting to watch these girls since the Olympics.”
“I thought you said you were hurting.” Ben didn’t want to disappoint his daughter, but he wasn’t going to let Mallory go on this trip and exhaust herself, especially when the pain was so clearly written on her face.
Although he’d never told his daughter that Mallory was a cancer survivor, Amber must have seen the same thing he did. “It-it’s okay.” Concern laced her tone. “I mean… if you feel rotten… Chicago’s a long trip.”
“I’m okay, Amber,” Mallory said. “I had a migraine, but I’m better.” Her steady gaze dared him to contradict her.