by Ashlyn Chase
“Nah. That’s the point of the game. You can be as immature, disgusting, or politically incorrect as you want. How about if we don’t keep score?” Gabe suggested. “We can just enjoy trying to make each other laugh.”
“That sounds good. Okay. Next one… ‘The CIA interrogates enemy agents by repeatedly subjecting them to…’”
He laid down his answer right away. “A Super Soaker full of cat pee.”
She pulled a face while she was laughing. “Ewww… Now who’s disgusting? Sorry. We said no judgment, didn’t we?”
“Yup. This is a judgment-free zone. What does yours say?”
“The CIA interrogates enemy agents by repeatedly subjecting them to”—she read the card in her hand—“German dungeon porn.”
He almost swallowed his tongue and wondered if she even knew what that was. At least she was laughing.
She drew another question card. “What will I bring back in time to convince people I’m a powerful wizard?”
They shuffled through their remaining cards, and Misty snorted.
“Got a good one?” he asked.
She shrugged. “Bio-engineered assault turtles with acid breath.”
He chuckled. “Okay. That I’d like to see.”
“Now show me yours,” she said suggestively.
“‘What will I bring back in time to convince people I’m a powerful wizard?’ My collection of high-tech sex toys,” he said and winked.
Her eyes rounded. “You have some?”
Gabe laughed. “Not unless you bought something for me last night.”
“Hell no.”
He sighed dramatically. “Oh well. A guy can dream.”
“Next question,” she said, smirking.
Was it his imagination, or did she seem shocked by the idea that she’d buy him a sex toy? Or that he’d even want one? Maybe…especially if she wanted to be his sex toy.
Oh well. Moving on. He drew a new question card. “I got ninety-nine problems, but blank ain’t one.”
She scanned her last few cards and picked one. He did the same. Before he had to ask what her card said, she laid it down.
“Three dicks at the same time.”
“Wow. You are a wild woman.” Then he laid down his card. “I got ninety-nine problems, but getting married, having a few kids, buying some stuff, retiring to Florida, and dying, ain’t one.”
“Wow. That’s a lot on that itty-bitty card,” she said.
“And some people act like that’s all there is.”
She tipped her head and looked at him thoughtfully. He sensed an uncomfortable question coming his way, so he shoved the pile of black cards toward her. “Your turn.”
She drew another question card and asked, “What’s that smell?”
Gabe started going through his cards.
“No, really! What’s that smell?”
Gabe sniffed the air. “Gas. Grab your coat, and let’s go!”
Misty popped up and ran to the closet by the front door. She tossed his jacket to him first, then grabbed her own. “I need my computer,” she said and started toward her room.
“Leave it. Is your landlady home?”
“Oh! Mrs. Patterson. Yes. We have to get her out too.”
Misty grabbed her purse, and they rushed down the stairs. When they reached the door leading to the first-floor apartment, Misty banged on it.
“Mrs. Patterson! Mrs. Patterson!” She rushed to the small window that looked out on the driveway. “Her car is here.”
Gabe knocked again. When there was no answer, he tried the knob. “The smell of gas is stronger here. Get outside and talk to EMS.” He handed her his phone. “I already dialed 911.”
He checked to see which way the door opened by checking the hinges. If the door opened toward him, kicking it down was going to be next to impossible. Fortunately, this door would swing away from him.
He hadn’t had to kick a door in for a long time, but he remembered to kick the side where the lock was mounted near the keyhole. This would typically be the weakest part of the door.
He quickly checked where Misty was and saw her standing on the sidewalk with the phone up to her ear. Apparently, she was doing what he’d asked, and she was clear.
Today, most doors are made of soft wood and are hollow. They give way fairly easily, especially since the lock’s dead-lock bolt extends only an inch or less into the doorframe. He hoped the landlady had replaced this door at some point and he wasn’t trying to break through original solid hardwood.
He backed up, and using a front kick, he rammed the heel of his boot into the door. He gave the kick forward momentum and kept his balance by driving the heel of his standing foot into the ground.
The wood began to splinter. Regardless, he had to kick it again. And again. Damn it. The thing is solid pine. At last, his foot went through. The smell of gas flowed through the hole he’d created.
He was able to reach in and turn the dead bolt. Opening the door, he called out “Boston Fire Department,” as he entered.
No answer. He still had to be on guard in case it was a trap. He didn’t think Misty’s landlady was one of those sick individuals known to lie in wait for firefighters. Those were genuinely horrible people against humanity. But Misty had said the landlady didn’t own a gun. Just a baseball bat.
He edged around a narrow doorway to a kitchen. A thin woman was seated at a tiny table, slumped over a cup of tea.
“Shit,” he muttered. He didn’t see any pilot light on the stove under the teapot and feared it had gone out. There was no way of knowing how long gas had been leaking. Now he just prayed he could get the woman out without creating a spark.
He draped her arm around his neck and scooped his hand under her denim-clad thighs. So far, so good. As he lifted her, static made her short hair fan out toward him. He held onto her and ran as fast as he could over the dirty shag carpet toward the front door.
BOOM!
Chapter 11
Misty sat by Gabe’s bedside and prayed. Hi, Lord…whoever you are. It’s me, Misty. I’ve spoken to you recently about the possible MS symptoms I’ve been having. It’s funny, but I’m more worried about Gabe than I am about myself. Please help him recover from his recent accident. You know the one I’m talking about, right? Well, of course you do. While he was rescuing my landlady, he was almost blown up and landed headfirst in the snow. How could you miss that? Oh! Please help her recover too. Amen.
Call it coincidence, but at that moment, Gabe opened his eyes. Misty rose quickly and leaned over his hospital bed’s safety railing.
“You’re awake.”
“Where am I?” he asked.
“In Boston General. Do you remember the accident?”
Gabe rubbed his forehead with his free hand; the other one was hooked up to an IV. “Do you mean the gas explosion?”
“Yeah. Thank goodness you got out of there just in time. I was terrified for you.” And terrified for myself. I’d die if I lost you.
“How’s your landlady?”
“Still unconscious last time I checked, but alive, thanks to you.”
He closed his eyes and nodded slowly. “I imagine she’s going to have one hell of a headache when she wakes up. I have one now, and I wasn’t even exposed to the gas that long.”
“Your head hurts because you landed on it.”
“Oh.”
A knock at the door was followed by Jayce entering the room. “Don’t worry about him, Misty. It’s not the first time he’s been dropped on his head.”
“Ha ha,” Gabe said. He reached for Misty’s hand. “How long have you been here?”
She clasped his hand gratefully. “Ever since they brought you in yesterday.”
“Jesus. You’re probably more than ready to go home. Wait a minute. Do you have a home to go to?”
She shook her head. She’d promised herself she wouldn’t worry him. If she had to, she could move in with her friend Julie, out in the ’burbs. Commuting to work would be a bitch, but she could do it.
Jayce looked over at Misty. “I’d offer you a guest room, but Kristine and I don’t have one. We have a couch you can crash on.”
“No, no. I don’t want to put you out.”
A female voice said, “Nonsense. You’re staying with us. We have lots of room.” Gabriella Fierro brought flowers into the room and set them on Gabe’s side table. “Hi, honey. How are you feeling?”
“Hi, Mom. I’m doing okay, I guess. I imagine the doctor will tell us something soon.” He looked at Misty. “Did he say anything to you?”
“Not much. They took some X-rays when you came in and said there weren’t any skull fractures or internal bleeding. No broken bones. And that you probably just have a concussion. You’re lucky.”
“Did you hear that Misty’s been here all night?” Jayce asked his mother.
Gabriella crossed to Misty and gave her a kiss on the cheek. “You must be exhausted.”
Misty nodded. “It’s okay. I had to know he was going to be all right. Now that he’s awake and I can see he’s okay, I can go back to work and make the money I need to rent a new place.” She checked the clock on the wall. “I should either get going or call in sick.”
“I told you,” Gabriella said. “You can stay with us—for as long as you like. Call in sick. Your home blew up! You must be traumatized.”
“Thank you. Really. But I don’t want to impose longer that I have to. I really appreciate the offer of a temporary spot to land, though. If I could take you up on that…”
“Absolutely.” Gabriella looked at Gabe and smiled. “Don’t worry. We’ll take good care of her.”
Gabe smiled. “I have no doubt of that. Misty, why don’t you go with my mom and get some sleep? When I get out of here, I’ll take you shopping or something. I imagine you’ll have to replace everything.”
That was just like Gabe. He was thoughtful of others. It was true he didn’t want to get married and have kids, but he would have made a terrific husband and father.
While she had sat by his bedside during the night, Misty had come to the conclusion that he really didn’t want those things in his life. And she wouldn’t push it. At the same time, she couldn’t see herself with anyone else. She had even let the nurse believe she was his fiancée so they’d let her stay at the end of visiting hours.
She’d just stick with him as long as he let her and hope she never had to move on.
“Hey, Mom,” Jayce said. “Why don’t I stay with my lazy brother while he’s just lying around in bed doing nothing? And you can take Misty home.”
“Why is everyone trying to get rid of me?” Misty asked.
Gabriella tapped her on the end of her nose. “No one is trying to get rid of you, darling. Everyone is just concerned about you. You were here all night. The rest of us went home, had a good night’s sleep, and said we’d check back in the morning. Now that I know Gabe is getting well and under good care, I insist on taking care of you.”
Misty smiled. “Thank you.”
“Be careful. She’ll feed you to within an inch of your life,” Gabe said, smiling.
“Thanks for the warning. I’ll have to buy new clothes one size larger.”
There was an awkward moment right before she left. They gazed at each other, not knowing how to say goodbye. A quick peck on the lips? Did his family know? His father had caught them in the kitchen, kissing. Did he tell anyone? She thought Gabriella would be happy about it if he had.
Instead, Misty extended her hand, and Gabe grasped it. For a moment, she worried that he might shake hands, and that wouldn’t look awkward at all, she thought sardonically. But he just squeezed her hand and held on for a bit longer. She left with his mother, who looked delighted.
* * *
Gabe watched them leave. Well, she always wanted a daughter. Now she has one. Hopefully that wouldn’t make their relationship weird…or weirder.
Another knock on the door was followed by Kristine poking her head in. “Anybody home?”
Jayce’s face lit up when he saw her. “Hi, honey. I didn’t think you were going to be here. You said you had a million things to do.”
Kristine crossed to her husband and gave him a sweet kiss. “One of those million things was visiting your brother.”
“I’m glad you came.” They were grinning at each other and gave each other another kiss before wrapping their arms around each other’s waists and facing Gabe. A united front.
Gabe rolled his eyes. “Newlyweds,” he mumbled.
Jayce laughed. “You should try it sometime, little brother. With the right woman, there’s a lot to recommend it.”
“Yeah, like getting Mom off my back.”
Kristine stuck her free hand on her hip. “Come on, Gabe. Maybe people just want the best for you…especially your mom. She and your father have had a wonderful marriage for thirty-five or forty years. Right? Why wouldn’t she want the same for you?”
“Thirty-four next month,” Jayce supplied.
“Just because marriage is right for them and you guys doesn’t mean it’s right for everyone. So get off my back, and take Mom with you.”
“Fine. Just so you know what you’re missing,” Jayce said and swiftly dipped Kristine, giving her a long, passionate kiss. When he righted her, she giggled.
Gabe groaned. “Come on, guys. You’re making me nauseous.”
“That’s just the concussion,” Jayce said.
Gabe closed his eyes and feigned exhaustion. “Guys? I think I need to rest.”
“Sure. Of course,” Kristine said. “I’m sorry if we stressed you out.”
“Do you want me to call off the rest of your visitors using the group text or telephone tree?” Jayce asked. “Otherwise, you’ll see Dad and three or four more brothers soon.”
“Yeah, tell them to give me a couple of hours.”
“Sure thing.”
He took Kristine’s hand, and as they walked toward the door, she called over her shoulder, “Get better, Gabe.”
“I will. I’ll probably be out of here this afternoon.”
Finally alone, Gabe mulled over what everyone was saying. And demonstrating. Misty had stayed with him all night. Was that just because she had nowhere to go? She had friends. She had his family. She had plenty of places she could have gone.
But she stayed with me. Knowing that made him think. He didn’t know if he liked her actions or not. On one hand, it was nice that someone cared that much. On the other hand, maybe she cared too much. She deserved someone who would love her unreservedly and be there for her—always.
He just wondered if he was up to the job. At some point, he was bound to disappoint her.
* * *
Several days later, Misty was seeing doctors again. Her friend Julie took the day off and drove her. Misty could have taken public transportation, but she had a foreboding feeling and wanted her friend there. Besides, Julie made her laugh. She had an appointment right after this one with a gynecologist named Dr. Ingalls. Julie decided to rename the gynecologist they hadn’t met yet Dr. Tingles.
In her internist’s waiting room, Misty’s name was called.
“Do you want me to come with you?” Julie asked.
“Nah. I’m all right. Thanks, though.”
She followed the hefty nurse through the busy office area. This time, she didn’t complain when she had to step on the scale. The number shocked her, and she gulped. 120 pounds? Oh my God! I’ve gained ten pounds? How? When? It must be the lack of exercise. Or water weight. Yeah, one of those.
“No need to get undressed,” Dr. Warren’s nurse said. “In fact, you don’t even need to go into an exam room. He wants t
o meet with you in his office.”
Misty wasn’t about to complain, even though the formality concerned her a bit. She followed the nurse to a door with Dr. Warren’s nameplate on it and ushered her in. The walls were lined with books, and her doctor sat behind a dark wood desk. Two comfortable chairs sat in front of it.
“Have a seat, Misty.” His expression looked grave.
She lowered herself slowly into one of the blue upholstered chairs. “Hi.”
“I have some news, and I’m afraid it isn’t good.”
“Oh?” Her mouth went dry, and she steeled herself for whatever he was about to say.
“I’m afraid you have multiple sclerosis.”
She knew this was a possibility, but hearing it confirmed seemed surreal. “That’s…that’s what’s responsible for all my symptoms?”
“Almost all.” He smiled. “When you called to say you were experiencing nausea, I had the lab run another test on your blood.”
“Really? I didn’t know you could do that.”
“Sometimes we hold onto the samples for a while. I see you have an appointment with Dr. Ingalls right after this.”
“Yeah. I haven’t seen a gynecologist in a few—Wait! What are you saying?”
“I’m not saying anything. I’m letting Dr. Ingalls explore the new findings with you. It’s her area of expertise.”
“New findings… What did the blood test show?”
He paused until she thought she might throttle it out of him. At last, he said, “You may be pregnant. We’ll need that confirmed. I expect your gynecologist will want to do a more definitive test and an exam before confirming anything.”
Internal shock waves knocked Misty back in her seat. “Are you sure?”
“Again, I’ll let Dr. Ingalls be the one who determines that. Don’t you want to know more about the MS?”
She pinched the bridge of her nose. “Yes. Of course. I’m just…overwhelmed at the moment.”
He didn’t get up or even extend a hand across the desk for comfort. He simply nodded. “Well, the good news—if there is any—is that pregnancy can alleviate the symptoms of MS for a while. But I don’t want you thinking the diagnosis must have been wrong. It isn’t.”