by Susan Ward
Because I don’t want it to be the end yet!
I want to believe in us a little while longer.
The vibration commences again.
Jade sets down the drinks on my tray and holds out her hand. “Give me your phone. I’ll talk to him. Then at least he’ll stop and you’ll know why he’s calling.”
Damn it. “All right. I’m answering it.”
I hit the green bubble as I move quickly from the bar. “Hello?”
I can’t hear anything through the phone.
“Eric? Are you there?”
“Can you hear me now?”
That’s the first line of our ending, I think. So stupid. No wonder it’s a tagline in commercials. I’ll probably cry for months every time I see a commercial on TV.
“Yes, I can hear you. What’s up?”
Nothing. There’s only ragged breathing through the phone. What’s up? I slap a hand against my forehead.
That came out cold and wasn’t right at all.
“This is going to sound like malarkey, but it’s not. It’s the truth, love. Don’t hang up until you’ve heard me out.”
He sounds anxious, and for some reason his speech is slurred. Is he drunk? Oh God, is he drunk-calling me from a party?
Leaning back against the wall outside my dad’s office, I tightly close my eyes. “I’m listening.”
“I’ve been in the hospital since Friday. I fell through a glass wall.”
My eyes shoot open. “Hospital? Oh my God, Eric. How’d you fall through a glass wall?”
“It’s complicated.” He groans. “Fuck, my brother punched me and I lost my balance. There. That’s the ugly truth, Willow. I had to have surgery and everything.”
I exhale the full chest of air I was holding.
He’s right.
It does sound like garbage.
For a cover story it’s a whopper.
I curl around the phone, more alert. “Ethan? Your brother? Why?”
His tone smooths like he’s been tense as well. “The why doesn’t matter. But that’s why I’ve been MIA. It’s because I couldn’t call you.”
My fingers run through my hair as I shake my head. It doesn’t feel right, truthful. “Why would you get in a fight with your brother?”
“It’s humiliating.” He sounds choked up. “I’ll tell you the details the next time I see you, but don’t make me do it by phone, love.”
Next time I see you? My pulse ticks up. “How long are you going to be in the hospital?”
“At least another day. And according to my doctor, I won’t be able to fly for two weeks. Part of my surgery was on my eye. It’s gotta heal before I can hop a plane.”
That sounds like a too neat excuse for not seeing me. I suck in a hard breath. “That’s all right. You getting better is the priority. Hey, I need to hang up. I’m working.”
I’ve got the phone from my ear when I hear him call out, “Willow, wait. I’m video calling. Pick it up, OK, baby?”
Baby?
I nod, though I know he can’t see me. “I will,” I whisper then click off the phone.
A few seconds later, my phone buzzes again.
I tap on the screen.
My jaw drops.
The bandage on his eyes.
The tubes.
The monitors.
“Oh God, Eric, you look awful.”
He makes a breathy laugh. “Can you see now why I didn’t FaceTime before?”
I cover my mouth as I look at him. “You’re going to be all right, aren’t you?”
Those mesmerizing blue eyes stare back at me. “We’re still good, aren’t we?”
I nod, so happy I’m nearly in tears again.
He smiles. “Then I’m going to be OK, Willow. I’ve gotta go. The pain meds make me drowsy. If I get sprung in the morning, I probably won’t call you until I’m at my parents’. OK?”
I nod.
The screen goes black.
Shoving my cell into my pocket, I hurry back to the bar.
“Everything all right?” Jade asks. I can tell she already knows by how I’m smiling.
I start setting napkins on my tray. “He’s calling me tomorrow.” I don’t disclose more.
“So what was his excuse for standing you up?”
I shake my head. “He fell through a glass wall Friday night. He’s in the hospital.”
Her eyes widen. You believe that?
I roll my eyes “We video chatted. He can’t fake a hospital room, Jade. He has monitors and everything.”
“What happened to him?” She’s frowning.
“His brother punched him.”
Her jaw drops. “You mean even his own brother can’t stand him?”
I chide her with my eyes, but she’s only teasing. It’s all part of Jade’s let’s keep Willow’s hopes from running away with her sisterly protection routine. She’s the most grounded girl I’ve ever known. It’s part of why I love her so much—and get frustrated by her from time to time. It’d be wonderful to see Jade head over heels, throwing caution to the wind at least once. Maybe then she’d be able to understand me better.
I scan down my ticket. “I’m short two beers. I’ll come back for them.”
I’m about to lift my tray when I suddenly remember the pawn ticket Eric gave me. Oh God. If he doesn’t claim his grandfather’s watch tonight, he’ll lose it.
I grab my phone and call him back. Pick up the phone, Eric. It’s six thousand dollars to get your watch back—my inner me gives the finger to Mr. Tomlin for fucking over Eric in that not from Capitol Hill way—and I only have a few hundred in my savings account after paying my fall school expenses.
Straight to voice mail.
Damn.
He must’ve fallen asleep.
I debate what I should do. Eric did pay me back for dates and the plane ticket. He’ll pay me back for this. I’m certain.
My eyes go wide. He’s the first guy I’ve ever dated who’s never lied to me and kept his word about everything. I shouldn’t have doubted him so hard when he didn’t call me. It makes me feel awful now, especially given how he looked all bandaged up in bed.
Untying and tossing my apron on the bar, I speak to Jade as I head for the apartment. “Can you have Ivy deliver my order? I need to clock out for the night. I’ve got something important to do.”
Chapter Thirty-Six
Eric
AFTER THE DOCTOR EXAMINES me, I take a fast shower and dress. I’m tying my sneakers when the nurse comes in with a wheelchair.
“You can get rid of that. I can walk.”
She arches a brow and points for me to sit. “Hospital policy. We’ve got to wheel you out the front door. Is someone from your family coming to pick you up?”
She says that all cool like, but I can tell she’s hoping my dad’s taking me home. She’s impervious to my charms but, fuck, not to my dad’s. She’s a flirty SMILF looking like she wants to jump Alan even with me in the room. I don’t care whether a guy’s interested in a girl or not—and I’m not—but when a hot nurse makes it obvious she’d pick your dad over you it wounds.
A slight groan escapes me as I settle into the chair.
“Move slower. More carefully. You’ve got a broken rib that needs to heal, a back full of stitches, and I don’t want you ending up here all over again.” She puts up the footrest and hands me the plastic bag from my bed.
“Don’t pretend you’re not going to miss me,” I tease.
She rolls her eyes. “Try not to fall through any more windows again.”
I curl the corner of my lips downward. It’s not worth correcting that I didn’t fall. She’s seen the videos. I caught the nurses watching it when I was being wheeled out onto the hospital roof to smoke last night.
At the door, she smiles back at me before she leaves. Not even a goodbye. Clearly she wants to be at the nurses’ station when my dad gets here.
I wa
it.
Five minutes.
Ten.
Fucking great.
Did my family draw straws on who’s going to pick me up? Did no one lose? Or did they forget to send someone to get me?
I slip my cell out of my pocket, intending to shoot off a fast text to Willow, when my door opens. I have to fight not to let my jaw drop. Not who I expected to show up to take me home, and I can’t help but wonder who thought this was a brilliant idea. Probably Dad, but wrong.
Ethan steps into my hospital room, looking like he’s carrying the weight of the world on his shoulders. It’s like a kick in the stomach to see him that way, and he really needs to let go of the guilt shit about what happened to me.
It was just one of those things.
Freaky result to a nothing moment.
Hell, he’s hit me before, and I’ve hit him; part of being brothers. Neither of us has ever gotten hurt before. I shouldn’t have this time.
Just one of those freaky things.
He sinks his hands deep into his pockets, leaning back against the wall. “You ready to go, bro?”
“Yeah. Doctor signed my discharge.” I lift the bag in my hand. “Got my non-narcotic pain meds and recovery instructions. Nothing left to do but get the hell out of here.”
His eyes are fixed on the floor so as not to meet mine. “They got you in a chair. You want me to get a nurse or something?”
“Nah, wheel me down the hall and we’ll ditch it before the elevator. Hospital policy that you get wheeled out. But fuck it.”
Ethan goes behind my chair and starts pushing me out of the room. The strain between us reminds me of why I’m here and everything that’s gone down.
At the end of the hall he pushes the button for the elevator, and when the doors open I wait a few seconds and push to stand, stumbling forward before it closes.
He punches the ground floor button and I sink against the wall, watching and trying to figure out what’s going on with him.
Silence until we’re in the parking lot.
As I wait for him to unlock the car doors, I let out a long, aggravated breath and assess him as he takes the driver’s seat. “Is this how we’re going to be now, E? Two assholes tiptoeing around each other and not talking?”
He shrugs as he hits the ignition.
Shaking my head, I climb in and close my door. I stare out the window as he exits the parking lot. “Why the fuck are you the one picking me up? Aren’t you supposed to be heading back to school today?”
“I’m thinking about sticking around for a while.”
That’s a news flash even though he doesn’t elaborate further. “Because of me? Because of Tara? Or something else?”
“All three.”
Clipped. Short. And his voice combined with his expression tells me E’s not sticking around out of guilt because of what he did to me. It’s Tara.
I wonder what fucking poison she’s been spewing in his ear. I bet she’s getting off having us both tied to her.
Or it could be the baby. He needs everything black and white, nothing left in the gray zone. Knowing my brother, I’m sure he’s thinking if he sticks around long enough, by some divine power he’ll know which one of us is the dad. But he won’t. It’s Egghead overthinking himself into the wrong right move.
My jaw clenches. “It’s fucking stupid to drop out of MIT now.”
“Don’t tell me what I should do. You can’t manage your own life.”
“Someone needs to talk sense to you. You run this by Dad?”
“Yeah. Unlike you, he doesn’t tell me what to do.”
“Mom can’t be cool with this.”
“Mom’s cool with everything I do. Always.”
Nice little dig you slipped in there, bro. “She shouldn’t be cool with this. It’s a mistake, and you’re going to regret it.”
He gets on the freeway going the wrong direction. My house in Laurel Canyon is north not south.
“Where the fuck are we going?” I already know the answer but asking gives me something to break the stilted silence.
“Mom wants you home until you’re recovered.”
I grab a cig, light it, and say, “And what Chrissie wants—” I wait a few excruciating seconds that feel like forever for E to finish his part.
“Chrissie gets,” he mumbles, pretending to be overly concerned with something he’s seeing in his mirror.
I take a long drag and blow the smoke out the window. “Who all is there? Just Khloe and the ’rents or the whole family?”
“Don’t call the folks that. It’s fucking insulting.”
“Sorry. Chrissie and Alan. Better?” Though it’s not how I think of my parents. I only said it to needle Ethan. Maybe then he’ll lose his temper, get over it fast instead of stewing for a century, and realize I’m right that he should go back to school.
“Fuck you. And why don’t you work on not being a prick before we get home? The entire family is there.”
It’s the logical next question—unpleasant—but I ask it anyway. “Where’s Tara?”
“Where do you think?”
“At the folks’.” It’s a moot point, but I’m saying it anyway. “She’s my wife now. Not your problem. She’s got me. You’re not needed.”
“Whatever you say, Eric.”
“Go back to school, Ethan.”
“Hugh wants me in the band. I’m staying.”
“Well, I make the decisions, and I vote no.”
“You better run that by the guys,” he states pointedly. “They want me back. And you’re not as solid with them as you think.”
I turn my head to stare at Ethan. “What the fuck is that supposed to mean?”
Ethan shrugs. “It means I’m back. I’m staying. And you can’t do a fucking thing to change it.”
I shake my head, aggravated. Crap. This is what I wanted, but now that I’m getting my way it feels like shit.
We finish the drive to the house without talking or looking at each other. It’s not until we park in the driveway that Ethan looks at me again.
“Mom’s trying to make the best of what you’ve done. Let her, Eric. Try hard to let her think everything’s OK between us.”
He trots up the front steps before I can get out an answer to him. Raking back my hair, I climb from the car and trail after him. If I had any sense at all, I’d head for home and not do this. It doesn’t take a rocket scientist to know what’s waiting inside.
I go down the wide marble entryway toward the kitchen and hear their voices. Just as I suspected, they’re all gathered around the marble center island. The Manzone family meeting place.
My older sisters and their spouses. Grandpa Jack and his wife, Linda. My folks. Even my baby sister, Khloe, who I wish to God wasn’t here. And of course, Tara, right in the middle of them.
Ethan’s hovering inside the doorway, and I stop next to him. In times of crisis—one look at the faces tells me that’s what this is—it’s my natural placement within our family. Me and Ethan, a united front always.
“It’s so good to have you home, Eric,” my mom murmurs on a raw voice, crossing the room to give me a fierce hug that belies the smile on her face. It’s almost enough to make tears rise in my eyes. Her joyful expression is a façade for what she’s feeling. She’s sad, worried, and desperate for things to be good again. It makes me painfully aware how much I’ve hurt them.
My arms tighten around her. “Thanks, Mom.” Into her ear, I whisper, “I’m sorry.”
Chrissie nods against my shoulder and holds out an arm for Ethan. She clutches us both up against her, bringing our faces close to her. “Whatever’s happened, you can’t change it. None of us can. But we’re a family. You’re brothers. Don’t ever forget that, not ever again.”
It’s evening before I can slip away to my old bedroom to call Willow.
What a nightmare that was, I think as I hurry down the hallway.
I don’t w
ant them to, but snapshots of the preceding minutes flash in my head. Tara pretending like ours is a happy union, when she extorted the I do out of me. Ethan glowering and sullen. My dad’s unreadable black stare locked on me every second. My sisters all pissed off and not showing it because Mom was there. And Grandpa Jack watching everything with his thoughtful blue eyes, unrevealing but sure as fuck seeing through the sham.
I love my family, but there are times when what we do is plain wack. Today was one of those times. What’s that expression? Lipstick on a pig. Today it was Revlon red on the entire hog farm.
I’m pulling my cell from my pocket as I open my bedroom door. I get one step in and it’s like I hit a brick wall.
Oh fuck.
Not this.
Tara’s lying on my bed in a sheer black nightie I’m sure she thinks looks sexy. OK, if I didn’t know her I’d have an erection. She’s that fucking hot. I’ve already married her. What’s the point of this? There’s always a subplot to everything Tara does. She’s that calculating.
“What the fuck are you doing in here?”
Her brows pucker as if she’s confused. “It’s the room Chrissie gave me when she asked that I stay at the house with you for your recovery.”
I leave the door open because I don’t want to be alone with her. “Gather up your shit. Go upstairs to where the guest bedrooms are. Pick one. You’re not sleeping in here.”
She draws a hand through her hair slowly, then brings her shiny brown strands to rest over her shoulder. “I refuse to let you humiliate me in front of your family.”
“Too late, Tara. There’s nothing about this whole situation that isn’t humiliating to the both of us.”
She eases upward until she’s sitting with her arms wrapped around her knees. “Who’s Willow? Is that why you talk to me this way?”
My heart stops.
How the fuck does Tara know about Willow?
The way she stares at me makes warning prickles run my skin. If I ask, that’s like giving blood to a shark. It won’t end well. “Get out.”
She relaxes back against the pillows. “I’m tired. It’s been a long day. I can barely keep my lids open. It must be because of our baby.”