She listened to the third ring and started not to answer. When she glanced down at the caller I.D. and noticed the number, she picked up the phone. If she didn’t answer, her first cousin, Nicki Johnson, would be banging on the door.
“Good evening.”
“I hadn’t heard from you all day. Raphael got settled in and everything, right?”
Laney shook her head and silently chuckled. She’d bet every dime she had on the fact her Uncle Eddie and Aunt Ida Mae had told their defense attorney daughter about Raphael’s arrival. “Yes, Nicki, Raphael is settled.”
“So how is he doing?”
“If I had to guess, I’d say he’s somewhat overwhelmed, perhaps even scared about what he has to face.”
“Did Casanova’s baby brother ever tell you why he really decided to come to Olivia?
Laney focused at the ceiling. Raphael was always direct and brutally honest, especially when it involved how he felt about something. She liked that. Plus, he never did anything he didn’t want to do. He had the resources to go anywhere in the world until the issue involving the possible breech of his medical records was resolved. She was certain of one thing: he was here because he wanted to be. “No.”
“Oh, Jesus, help her. Laney, you’re supposed to ask these kinds of questions.”
“Why?”
“I need details.” Nicki paused. “Are you in love with Raphael?”
Yes, she loved him, but she also needed him. No, it wasn’t a need of dependence, but a powerful ache, a melting sensation, an emptiness that could only be filled by him.
Her love involved more than sexual attraction. Laney had discovered that many facets of Raphael’s character compared favorably with the men in her family. She simply refused to love a man who possessed anything less.
For starters, he had a strong work ethic. Music wasn’t something Raphael did haphazardly. It was rooted in his soul. He demanded perfection with every rehearsal, in every performance he gave.
He was educated, too. Not many classically trained pianists graduated at the top of their class from Julliard then went on to UCLA law school to earn a degree in entertainment law. He also possessed a fearless power. Occasionally, she’d heard the authoritative command in his voice, the one of confidence that if presented with a dilemma, he’d never hesitate to resolve it.
Most of all, he was strong-willed. That was evident from the morning they shared their first kiss. Despite the passion swirling around them like a dust storm, he’d been the one who’d pushed back. She loved him even more for respecting her and not taking advantage of the situation. As far as she was concerned, that was an impressive list by any standard.
“Laney,” Nicki scolded in a firm, but gentle tone when she didn’t get an immediate response. “Turn off that mega processing brain of yours for a second and talk to me.”
“Yes, I’m in love with Raphael and know I want to spend the rest of my life with him.”
“Does he feel the same way you do?”
“Hmmm…that’s a question you’ll need to ask Raphael.”
Nicki released an exasperated sigh. “Usually, my dear, there’s a mutual consensus of feelings in a relationship.”
Whether Raphael wanted to admit it or not, Laney knew he’d just put his trump card on the table by agreeing to stay at Olivia. She wanted him, more than she’d ever thought it was possible to want a man, both physically and emotionally. This was the first time in her life she’d recall following her heart and not her head. “Who says there isn’t one in this case?”
“Okay, Einstein, I see you’re determined to win this man’s heart, aren’t you?”
“Yes.”
“What makes you so sure you’ll come out victorious?”
Laney pondered the question for only a second. If she were to have any chance at all, she had to find a way to break down Raphael’s iron-clad control. She wanted her relationship with him to involve not only his trust, but the very essence of his being, and would settle for nothing less. “If faint heart ne’er won fair lady, fair lady ne’er won with a faint heart.”
~ ~ ~
The following day, Ray, along with Laney, sat in the office of Jason Reynolds. He’d accepted Laney’s recommendation to see the top-notch oncologist for two reasons. One, they’d attended medical school at Harvard together and two, Laney trusted Jason.
Ray glanced at the closed door for the umpteenth time. “What’s taking him so long?”
Laney reached over and calmly patted the top of Ray’s hand. “Relax, darling. It should only be a few more minutes.”
Ray nodded. At that moment he had four options: sit down, shut up, hold on, and pray.
“Mr. Baptiste?” A tall man walked inside toward Ray and extended his hand. “Hello, I’m Dr. Reynolds.”
Ray accepted the handshake. “Hey, doc. No need for formality. Call me Raphael.”
Jason Reynolds nodded, then glanced over at Laney. “Hi, kiddo. It’s good to see you.”
Laney smiled. “Thanks, Jason. Raphael and I really appreciate you squeezing us in on such short notice.”
“My pleasure.” Dr. Reynolds headed toward the leather swivel chair behind his desk and sat. He opened Ray’s medical chart and hooked his fingers in front of him. “Raphael, I’ve reviewed your surgery and pathology report. However, I’ve discovered another problem.”
Confused, Ray frowned. “I’m not following you here, doc.”
“Raphael,” Dr. Reynolds continued, “your lymph nodes are at least seven and a half centimeters.”
Ray ran two weary hands down his face and released a hard breath.
“Jason,” Laney said slowly, “After chemo, would you recommend Raphael undergo a RPLND?”
“Absolutely.” Jason paused briefly. “Raphael a RPLND—”
“Is the acronym for Retroperitoneal Lymph Node Dissection,” Ray interrupted. “It’s a surgical procedure recommended for patients like me with nonsemionma, the testicular cancer that can easily travel through the bloodstream to other vital organs such as the lungs, liver, bones and brain.”
Since his diagnosis, Ray had read everything he could get his hands on relative to testicular cancer. It was a complicated disease to say the least. If he could reach his own behind, he’d have kicked it for waiting as long as he did to seek treatment. Maybe if he had done so earlier, the disease would’ve been detected at a much early stage.
Dr. Reynolds offered an appreciative nod. “Aaah, you’re an informed patient. Being knowledgeable of the disease you’re fighting is definitely a plus.”
“Listen, doc,” Ray said, scooting to the edge of his seat. “What’s your recommendation for chemo?”
“Well, there are two options for you to consider.” Dr. Reynolds lifted up one finger at a time as he named them. “One is to go with three cycles of BEP or four cycles without the Bleomycin. I’d like to get started as soon as possible.” He paused and flipped through Ray’s medical chart. “You don’t have any children, correct?”
“Correct.” Ray had never considered fatherhood. It was a responsibility that never came up on his radar screen, and he always used protection with the women he’d slept with. “Why do you ask?”
“Before you begin chemo, I’d like for you to make an appointment with the sperm bank.”
Ray clasped both hands between his legs. He’d psyched himself up for chemo, but hadn’t expected to undergo the RPLND, too. And he knew the appointment to the sperm bank was necessary. One of the side effects of chemo in men was infertility. However, what he had to do at the sperm bank wasn’t something he looked forward to. “Uh, listen, doc. How many visits will I need to make?”
“At least three,” Dr. Reynolds advised.
“Daaayuuum,” Ray muttered. A few moments passed, and he turned to face Laney, searching her eyes for confirmation.
Laney nodded slightly, an indication that his telepathic request had been received. “Jason, will you excuse us for a moment?”
“Absolutely.” D
r. Reynolds pushed his chair away from the desk and stood. “Raphael is my only patient today, so take all the time you need.”
Ray watched as Dr. Reynolds left and quietly closed the door. He settled back in his chair and stretched his long legs in front of him. “Red, I never thought I’d need to have a RPLND.”
“I know you didn’t, darling.”
“It’ll be another two, maybe three months after the chemo is over before I land back on my feet.”
“Let’s worry about that bridge when we cross it.”
Ray stood and began pacing. Before his diagnosis, he and the other members of Les Croisés had planned to iron out the details for the presentation to the sponsors they’d lined up for their music academy, which was scheduled for the first day of May. With the news he’d just received, he’d be flat on his back recuperating from the RPLND. “What about the presentation?”
“The only thing you need to concentrate on is getting well”
“If the roles were reversed, would you consider the RPLND?”
Laney stood and walked up to Ray. “Raphael, ultimately the decision is yours. However, if I were in your shoes, I’d consider the situation to be no different than playing a one-in-five game of Russian Roulette. In the worst-case scenario, there’s a twenty percent chance the cancer will return without the RPLND. The question boils down to whether you’re comfortable with those odds.”
That was the problem. He wasn’t. He wanted absolute certainty. Ray chuckled sadly because he knew there were no guarantees in the game called life. He plopped back in his chair, releasing a long, hard breath. Before his diagnosis, life was what he made it. He did what he wanted, when he wanted. Now cancer dictated every decision he made. With his fingers steepled to his lips, the words Mama Z told him raced through his head.
The will of God will never take ya where the Grace of God will not protect ya.
At this point, he could only pray to God his grandmother was right.
~ ~ ~
After Ray left his appointment with Jason Reynolds, he and Laney drove over to her office. Since she’d been adamant about taking a leave of absence from her job while he underwent chemo, the least he could do was help pack her belongings.
“Dr. Houston,” Ashton Bryant shouted as he flung the door open. “You rejected my proposal, again. Do you realize what you’ve done?”
“It’s not what I did, Dr. Bryant. It’s what you didn’t do that’s the problem. Now if you will excuse—”
“We need to discuss this right now.”
Laney placed a stack of file folders into a box, but didn’t look up. “That’s not possible, Dr. Bryant.”
“What did you say?” Ashton roared.
Laney stopped and pushed the box to the side. “I said no. It’s a two letter word denoting refusal.”
“I demand—”
“Dr. Bryant,” Laney interjected. “I’m about to leave. Please close my door on your way out.”
A red mist swam before Ray’s eyes, and he shot to his feet. He’d never spoken to any woman in this arrogant, almost brutal tone. And he certainly wasn’t going to allow what’s-his-name to talk to Laney that way, not on his watch. He opened his mouth, but snapped it shut the moment his gaze settled on her. He stared into her eyes and saw the silent request that said, ‘Don’t front me, not here, not now.’ He certainly didn’t want to embarrass her or put her gig in jeopardy. Solace came from the angelic expression, which slowly crept over her face. He got it. She had this. With a slight tip of the head, he took a step back and walked out.
“Hold on, player. We need to talk.” Ray pushed away from the wall outside of Laney’s office the second Ashton exited. “You disrespected the lady back there.”
“Well, if the lady can dish it out, she should be able to take whatever comes here way.”
“Don’t go there with me,” Ray warned. “Just because she put your punk ass in check doesn’t give you the right to talk to her the way you did. I’m going to say this only once. Don’t ever talk to her that way, again.”
Ashton let his gaze roam over Ray’s tall frame from head to toe. “Are you threatening me?”
“You’ve got this twisted. I don’t believe in threats. I carry out promises. Go ahead and nut up if you want to. But if you do, you and me will step outside and handle business.” Ray winked. “And trust me, I’ll wax your ass.”
~ ~ ~
For the past hour, Ray sat alone in the sperm bank, staring at the sterile plastic cup on the table in front of him. He frowned. No amount of steamy videos and Playboy books helped his cause. Startled, he jerked his head up the moment he heard the soft knock at the door. Relief swept over him when Laney stuck her head through the crack.
“Is everything okay?”
“Hell no,” Ray shot back, embarrassed. “How do they expect a man to jack off in a little bitty cup anyway?”
“The process is called ejaculation.”
He didn’t care what the medical term was. This was too much and he felt a headache coming on strong. He blew out a hard breath and shook his head. “Red, I-I can’t do this.”
Laney eased through the door and closed it. She gave Ray a shrewd look. “You promised to do whatever it took to get well, remember?”
“Yeah, but this wasn’t on the list.”
“Think of it as one more step to beating cancer.”
Frustrated, Ray jammed his glasses on top of his head. “Jacking—”
“Ejaculating,” Laney corrected.
“All right…ejaculating. Satisfied?”
Laney smiled softly. “I’ll leave just as soon—”
“All right,” he muttered, “I’m on it.” Ray gave her a pointed look when she flashed a half-lazy grin at him. He knew she’d stand there until hell froze over, if he didn’t agree.
Laney went up on tiptoe and placed a soft kiss against his cheek. She turned and quietly shut the door behind her.
Ray stared at the closed door and tried to ignore the incredible ache in his groin. Desire shot through him like an electrical charge the moment Laney walked in. Every time she touched him was proof that he wanted her, cancer or not.
Truth be told, his battle with cancer wasn’t what he feared most. He was terrified he’d never be able to make love to her the way he wanted to. It wasn’t about sex, not with Laney. It was about a man’s need to make love to his woman and make certain she knew she was his. The uncertainty of his sexual ability had caused him to back away from her last night, which was one of the hardest things he’d ever had to do in his entire life.
Without a doubt, Ray knew Laney had seeped deep into his heart. Now he was wide open to feelings he never thought possible. And what ate away at him was that he couldn’t act on those feelings, at least not now.
~ ~ ~
“Darling, I’m going with you today,” Laney announced over breakfast two days later.
Ray didn’t look up. Instead, he stared blankly at the toast on the plate in front of him. “A snowball will melt in the Antarctic before you do.”
“Why do you say that?”
He tossed a sharp look her way. “You can ask me that after what happened yesterday.”
“Oh that.” Laney dismissed the incident with a wave of the hand. Her feelings hadn’t changed one bit. She loved him before yesterday’s episode, so as far as she was concerned, what had happened didn’t matter.
Ray couldn’t believe the causal way Laney disregarded what was the most embarrassing moment in his life. Yesterday, he began his first round of chemo. It was one thing to read about what to expect. It was another thing to live through it. He wasn’t sure which was worst, the disease or the treatment for the disease.
Ray decided to go with the four-round treatment because it was less toxic. Each treatment cycle consisted of five straight days of intravenous drugs followed by two weeks off before the cycle started all over, again. What he hadn’t counted on was the humiliation that hit him square in the face fifteen minutes into his session. W
hen Laney came over to check on him, he got so sick, he vomited all over her shoes.
“Raphael, chemo affects patients in different ways. Some experience only a few of the side effects while others experience all of them.”
“Red, a man doesn’t want his woman to see him puck all over the place.”
“Raphael—”
“Ice it, Red!” Ray got up from the table and glared down at Laney. Yesterday stripped away the last shred of his masculinity. He silently admitted his macho side had overruled common sense, but it was all he had left. The finality in his tone was undeniable clear. “What I do with my life is off-limits to everyone, including you. I’ll get Brie to go with me today. Understand?”
Laney didn’t flinch at Raphael’s outburst. She knew frustration ate at him. It was a bitter reality for him to accept that his life had changed. The last thing he needed was for her to push him to do something he wasn’t ready for. As a physician, she understood cancer from a clinical perspective. However, living with the disease was something entirely different. If she could get him to channel his anger for the disease into the strength to fight it, the battle would almost be won.
At least someone from his immediate family was with him. Although she knew Raphael would prefer to go through chemo alone, she was happy Raphael’s oldest sister, Gabriella, who mostly answered to Brie, had flown out from Oakland to be with him. She conceded to his request with a nod.
Ray whirled around before he reached the entranceway of the kitchen. “And while I’m gone, go out and find yourself a real man.”
Usually, Laney’s temper was a languid as her stroll, but Raphael’s last comment riled her to the core. “I’ve got a real man.”
He released a cynical chuckle. “Wrong! You’ve got a freak.”
Laney was on her feet in an instant. “Freak?” she uttered through tight lips as she stalked toward him. “You think you’re a freak? You see this?” she ground out, holding up her deformed right hand. “Do you think because I was born with a deformity that for one second I considered myself a freak? And do you think I’ll ever allow anyone to call you a freak or even allow you to call yourself a freak? Well, do you?”
IF I WERE YOUR WOMAN Page 6