Shelby shakes her head as she replies, “Mark, I am a professional, and even I didn’t realize it was quite this bad. Ketki keeps it all under wraps. She makes a few cryptic remarks here and there, but she doesn’t share much. It’s too bad that Ketki can’t hang out in-person with all of her buddies from Tristan’s beta-testing team. We all have a great time. We did a game SIM last weekend that was such a blast. Ketki is the natural leader of the group there.”
“It would take some juggling with school schedules, but why couldn’t you? Thanksgiving break is coming up,” I suggest.
Shelby’s mouth drops open as she explains, “I don’t think you understand. There are about a dozen people in that group from all over the United States. That would be unbelievably expensive. I know that you like to make sure that Ketki’s needs are met, but this would be going above and beyond.”
I sit forward in my chair as I puzzle through the idea in my head. “It wouldn’t necessarily have to be my dime, right? Doesn’t Tristan have that new software facility opening soon in California?
“Yes —” Shelby answers cautiously. “That’s why we’ve been testing so extensively. Tristan wants to show the new project on the big screens during the grand opening.”
I grin ear to ear as a thought occurs to me. “Problem solved. The perfect birthday party awaits. Do you know what else is in California?”
“Disneyland?” Shelby guesses with a wide smile.
“That’s true, but Ketki isn’t really a princess kind of girl. She’s more of a bookworm —
I can see the wheels turning in Shelby’s mind as she ponders my clue. The second she gets it, her face lights up with delight. “Mark, if you have her party at Universal Studios and take her to Harry Potter Land, you would be elevated to Father of the Millennium,” Shelby observes with a laugh.
I pretend to polish my fingernails on the front of my shirt as I say, “Let’s do this!”
I decide with finality this has to happen. “Just so you know, if I’m able to pull this one off, it will definitely be a team effort. Any ideas about how to make sure Tristan is in a really good mood?”
Shelby just rolls her eyes before she rubs her hands together, cracks her knuckles and reopens her computer. “I’ve heard a rumor that he’s really fond of his mother-in-law’s tamales.”
I LAUGH AS ONE OF Jessica’s macramé beads rolls down the aisle of the plane. “You are dealing with this so much better than I would,” I compliment as I stop the bead with my foot.
Jessica’s hands never stop moving as she repetitively ties decorative knots. She doesn’t even slow down as she answers my question, she merely shrugs. “I can’t think of a better way to get married. I take that back— Isaac and Rosa have us beat. You know, Mitch and I can’t really top Paris. Still, if you’re going to put all my friends on a big plane and fly them to California, I’m not going to complain —”
“Are you sure you want me to be one of your bridesmaids? Have you looked at me lately? I have no real hair — I only have peach fuzz,” I announce as if she can’t see what’s right in front of her.
“Peshaw, you look magnificent, just like Kelly Pickler when she donated all of her hair to charity. Come to think of it, you really do look like Kelly Pickler. I’m a little jealous. I’d like to get rid of this mane sometimes.”
I roll my eyes as I quip, “Yeah, I used to say that too, and now look what happened.”
Jessica covers her mouth in horror. “Oh man, me and big mouth. I’m sorry. You’d think I’d learn.”
“Don’t worry about it. I’m friends with Jade and you wouldn’t believe what comes out of her mouth—”
“Hey now! I might want to object to your characterization of me,” protests Jade as she pops a chocolate covered pretzel in her mouth and plops into the seat next to me.
“Did you or did you not suggest auctioning off sections of my scalp on YouTube for tattoos?” I ask pointedly.
“Oh come on! That was one of my best ideas ever, even Marcus thought it was a good idea!” Jade exclaims.
“My head is not a billboard!” I insist.
Yuki, the service dog Jessica is training tries to nuzzle my hand in an effort to calm me down.
“At the risk of sounding like Gabriel Iglesias, ‘would’ve been funny,’” interjects my sister.
“Right? She could’ve made some serious bank and had a radically cool statement piece at the same time,” Jade agrees. “I don’t see the problem. Her hair will grow back.”
I throw my hands up in the air in frustration as I growl, “The problem is, I have a cue ball for a head and I’m not about to let you color all over it like it’s a jack-o’-lantern for fun and profit.”
Ketki taps me on the shoulder before she whispers in my ear in a very loud stage whisper, “I’m not very good at this, but even I can tell they’re just kidding. Relax a little, it’s a party. We’re supposed to be having fun.”
“I’ve said it before, and I’ll say it again. Your friends are down-right strange,” I assert.
Mark slings his arm around my waist as we walk around the deserted parking lot to cool down. “Perhaps, but then again, that might be why we fit in so well — though I’m curious to know why you think so?”
“Admittedly, my upbringing has limited the number of times I’ve been invited to a bachelorette party, but I have a pretty good idea of what to expect from one of these parties. This wasn’t it,” I reply.
“What’s wrong, Shelby? Were you disappointed that there weren’t any strippers? If that’s the only problem, I can arrange a private show for you later,” Mark teases as he wiggles his eyebrows at me suggestively.
Good thing it’s the dark and he can’t see my blush because his words make me turn bright red. Not that I am opposed to a little private show on principle, but the execution of it is a little trickier. I’m not quite as bold as I’d like to pretend to be. I guess a little bit of my quasi-religious upbringing has seeped into these pores after all.
“Maybe some other time,” I stammer, sidestepping the issue. “In case you haven’t noticed, your daughter is with us on this trip. Which brings me back to my point, your friends are weird. I’ve seen plenty of movies and television shows —this is not what happens at bachelorette parties. I don’t think it’s typical to have boys at the party, let alone to rent out entire trampoline gyms for a horde of teenagers who never met in person.”
Mark laughs out loud as he concedes, “No, this has Tristan’s fingerprints written all over it. Actually, if you think about it, it’s probably more about Marcus. Doesn’t Marcus have his little brother from the Big Brother/Big Sister Program here?”
“You mean the one who is starting his freshman year at Stanford? I think Marcus has issues saying goodbye,” I joke with a smirk.
“Hey, don’t laugh. I sat next to that kid at dinner. He’s exceptionally bright. He puts my current associate to shame. Let’s just say, I hope he doesn’t lose my business card before he finishes college and — knock-on-wood — law school.”
“Speaking of bright kids, you didn’t tell me that Ketki is like an Olympic gymnast. She was jumping rings around everyone else out there, including the adults,” I say with pride.
“You know how Ketki feels about feathers and stones?” Mark explains. “She felt that way about trampolines first.”
“Ahh, That explains a lot,” I remark. Some of Ketki’s comments from earlier suddenly make sense in light of this new information. “I’m glad she was able to handle the extra stims in front of her new friends. She’s doing really great around everything new.”
“It was really cool of Rosa and Isaac to volunteer to babysit tonight. I hope Isaac is ready to get beat at chess,” Mark frets. “ Ketki doesn’t pull any punches. She plays like every game is her last.”
“I wouldn’t worry about it,” I assure him. “I’m sure they can handle whatever comes up. I could see them at dinner and they were off in their own little world. I asked Rogue about it and she said she’
d never seen Tristan and Isaac be that thick as thieves with anybody so quickly. I guess Ketki’s eye for detail might actually be helping them on a case or two. Whatever Isaac can’t handle, I’m sure Rosa can.”
Mark pulls me into an embrace as he backs up against a brick wall. “So Immokalee, we are in California, the land of dreams and fantasies – and without our child for the evening, how would you like to take advantage of that?”
I’m not even sure how to answer that question. Sometimes I wish I could turn the analytical side of my brain off. I’m still a little stuck on the words dreams and fantasies. Do I have fantasies about Mark Littleson? Oh yes. I have many. Often. More than I care to admit. Some are unabashedly hot, some sweet and some are far more practical, he has become my favorite fantasy Actually, he has become my favorite subject for dreaming period. Mark Littleson is my dream. My smoking hot, hunky, phenomenally good-smelling dream.
I’m still lost in my somewhat lusty thoughts when Mark clears his throat and asks, “Well?”
I have to focus to drag my attention back to the topic at hand as I answer. I pretend to contemplate the dilemma, but the answer is pretty simple for me. I want to go dancing with all of my new friends. It’s only been during the last couple of weeks that I’ve started to feel human even though my last chemotherapy treatment was weeks ago.
I take the time to straighten the collar on Mark’s shirt. He picked it up on his last trip home. One of his mom’s friends hand beads the collars in a manner similar to how she works with the regalia used for formal Cherokee ceremonies. The result is simply stunning. He looks rugged and handsome. Mark smirks at me as he watches me devour him with my eyes. He takes a moment to roll-up the sleeves on his shirt. My mouth goes dry at the sight and I have to struggle to remember what I was going to say. It takes a moment before it all comes back. I stop him from going back into the club and pull him back toward the shadows beside the restaurant as I remark, “This is an unprecedented situation for us. We haven’t had a whole lot of opportunity to spend time together without children present. It’s a good thing we’ve got lots to celebrate today. I didn’t even get a chance to tell you but Dr. Charleston’s office called. They were so impressed with the last round of scans that they wanted to give me a call and let me know that the suspicious spots in my lymph nodes are looking rather unremarkable. As Dr. Charleston said, they are markedly better.”
Mark smiles a tight smile but even in the dim light of the entryway, I can tell that it’s his fake polite smile. It doesn't take a rocket scientist to figure out what the problem is.
I pull his face in and plant a soft kiss on his lips as I say, “Don’t worry, I had them check three times to make sure that the results were actually from me. It’s real.”
“For real? Black and white, verifiably real?” Mark questions.
I nod as I confirm, “For real, backed up by pictures and blood work.
Mark leans his forehead against mine as he says, “I’ve never been so glad to hear good news in my whole life. Although, it’s too bad we’re not at Ink’d — it would’ve been so fine to ring that bell loud and clear.”
I laugh lightly as I agree, “I’m sure that they’ll allow us to ring it retroactively. We seem to have an ‘in’ with a few members of the management. Do you have your dancing shoes on? I bet they are waiting for us. I didn’t spend the last few months worshiping at the feet of the porcelain God without planning dance in the face of cancer in the end. So, for lack of a better term — let’s party!”
IT’S CRAZY WHEN YOU DISCOVER the things you don’t even realize you’re doing until you stop doing them. In my case, I’ve been holding my breath for months on end. I can’t tell you how much relief I felt when Shelby told me that her scan showed so much improvement. Of course, there’s always a chance for a setback or a relapse, yet I feel like we have finally been given some breathing room.
Breathing room. This trip has been all about breathing room. The freedom to be ourselves. Okay, I know that every single parent feels this way to a certain extent, but because of the unique situation with Ketki, I often feel especially stuck. I know that I can ask my sister to watch her, but Leoti has her own children and Ketki can be a handful. Since I sometimes have to be away for work, guilt always seems to get the best of me if I want to leave Ketki just so I can have a social life.
I’ve been so busy providing for Shelby that I’ve failed to notice that my own support system has become much larger as well. Although we had planned for Ketki to stay in our suite, she elected to stay with Isaac and Rosa. This is a welcome development since Ketki was the one who initiated the extended contact. After Mama Rosa offered to teach her how to do embroidery, my daughter grabbed her suitcase and disappeared so quickly my head almost spun. As I watched her leave with little fanfare or drama, I realized that I was having a completely typical, average moment with my soon-to -be ten-year-old daughter and the simple beauty of that almost took my breath away.
I think that Shelby understood what I was feeling, because our lovemaking last night was more connected than it’s ever been. It was as if our lips and fingertips were connected to our hearts and souls. We didn’t have to speak to communicate. It was the most in tune I’ve ever been with anyone. Maybe it’s because I finally feel strong enough to believe that Shelby is going to survive skin cancer. I finally have the breathing room to show her how deeply I really feel.
Instinctively, I pull Shelby closer to me. Her cheek slides across my chest and her eyes pop open. She squints at the alarm clock before complaining, “I still could’ve slept for another eleven minutes. Do you know how late it was last night before we got to bed? We are going to take a bunch of teenagers to a theme-park today. How crazy are we? We totally should have planned this better.”
“Uh-huh,” I answer in a low tone as I remember how the night ended. “Seems like someone I know wanted to dance until dawn.”
“Nobody warned me not to challenge Jade to a dance-off. That was one of the dumbest ideas I’ve had in forever. I should have strategized a little better.”
“Mmm-hmm,” I mumble, as I rub a knot out of her calf.
“Speaking of strategies, what time is Tanyanita coming?” Shelby asks as she stretches and yawns.
“Her flight doesn’t get in until eight-thirty. Tristan said he was going to send one of his body men to go get her.”
Shelby’s eyes sparkle with delight. “Oh, how fun!”
Feeling lost, I ask, “What are you talking about?”
Shelby rolls her eyes and lobs her pillow at me as she inquires with exasperation, “Haven’t you watched any movies made in — I don’t know — the last sixty years?”
“Of course I have, I have a sister,” I answer, still missing the point.
She looks at me like I’m a one of her students who can’t quite grasp the art of finger-painting. “Well, the bodyguard always falls in love with his beautiful charge and as much as it pains me to admit this, your wife is drop dead gorgeous.”
“Shelby, Tanyanita is very pretty, but she will never be as beautiful as you. Furthermore, you were missing a key word in that sentence. Tanyanita is my ex-wife. We’ve been divorced for years. She’s only coming to this to support Ketki—you know that. You had to talk her into coming.”
“I know, that. It’s just hard sometimes, especially when I look like this,” Shelby confesses as she runs her hand across her head. Her hair has started to grow back, but it’s still quite short and baby-fine.
I narrow my gaze as I ask, “Shel, do you really think I care?”
Shelby shakes her head and whispers, “I know you don’t, but some days I do.”
“Can you try to make this day a day you don’t care?” I suggest carefully. “Everybody and their dog is going to have a baseball cap on today, no one is even going to notice. Everyone is here to see Harry Potter anyway. I’m surprised Ketki isn’t here banging down the door wondering what’s taking us so long.”
Shelby digs through her suitcase and pu
lls out some clothes. “You’re right. Nobody cares what I look like — except maybe you; you like to look at me naked,” she teases as she chuckles with a low husky laugh which makes me second-guess all of my good intentions. “I guess that takes showering for two off the table for now,” she casually remarks with a sexy wink.
She laughs out loud when I groan audibly.
“There is good news. It seems like sleepovers at Padre Pop and Mama Rosa’s might materialize and we could schedule a rain check,” Shelby teases as she waltzes toward the bathroom with her towel and her clothes draped over her arm.
“Remind me to send Mama Rosa some flowers and Isaac a handwritten thank you note,” I grumble, as I watch her shapely backside disappear.
“Rosa likes those little tiles with inspirational sayings for her garden,” Shelby suggests, barely hiding her bubble of laughter
“I’ll keep that in mind,” I answer slowly as I replay the whole conversation in my head, curious about what I’d overlooked.
Shelby comes back to the bed and kisses me thoroughly before she remarks, “I just thought I’d point it out… considering that Christmas break is coming right up and I’ve never been to Hawaii. I think I love Hawaii. I hear that they’ve got all sorts of great hotels with magnificent showers for two,” she teases.
I grin ear to ear as I respond, “Do you think she needs an underground watering system?”
Shelby winks at me again before she says, “I don’t know, I’ll ask — we could use a really long vacation”
I probably could’ve saved myself a bunch of sleepless nights if I’d really paid attention to Tristan and Isaac’s background. Intellectually, I knew they had some military connections and training. I know that Tristan is highly entrenched in the law enforcement community and has the respect of politicians and front-line folks alike. I know less about Isaac Roguen, but I know he worked for some agency which had alphabet soup after their name. Still, it’s hard for me to reconcile the video game playing, sangria-drinking, salsa-dancing fun people that I know with the straight-laced, serious professionals I see in front of me today.
Love Is More Than Skin Deep (A Hidden Hearts Novel Book 4) Page 17