by Megan Hart
to cal you so late, but your mother's surgery has had some
complications—"
I had to blink twice to make sure I wasn't stil dreaming
and even then I wasn't convinced. "I'm sorry, hold on a
second. Her surgery?"
"The breast-reconstruction surgery had some complica
tions," he explained patiently, probably used to waking
people up to give them bad news. "She's running a high
fever and has been hemorrhaging."
My mother had gone and got herself a boob job. I gritted
my teeth. "You're her plastic surgeon?"
"Yes. I've been working closely with her oncologist, Dr.
Frank, since your mother was diagnosed."
I was stil stupid. "Wait a minute. Her oncologist? I thought
she was having her breasts done."
"Your mother had a double mastectomy," the doctor said.
"With a planned reconstruction. But as I said, there are
complications."
I sagged against the headboard. "What kind of
complications?"
complications?"
"Can you come to the hospital?" he said. "I think you should."
Chapter 33
Leo probably hadn't even gone to bed yet when I caled
him to come sit with Arty and get him on the bus in the
morning. He was there in fifteen minutes. I should've been
relieved to see him, but I was angry, too.
"You knew?"
He nodded. "She told me a couple months ago. When she
told me to leave."
"Months? She knew for months and…she didn't tel me?"
Leo shrugged. "She didn't want to worry you, Paige. Hey,
don't look at me like that. You know your mother. And
she broke up with me because of it."
He didn't have to tel me that was worse than being kept in
the dark. "I'm sorry she did that. Why would she?"
Another shrug. "She said she didn't want to be a burden."
"Did you try to convince her otherwise?" The question was
a little mean, but Leo took it in stride.
"I love that woman, and I love that boy up there." He
pointed. "Hel. I even took a shine to you. I was hoping
she'd reconsider once she had the operation and she saw I
didn't care about the size of her tits."
There wasn't much point in belaboring the discussion, so I
left him at the house. The drive to Hershey was shorter
than the trek from Lebanon to Harrisburg, but it was along
a two-lane, rural highway and I had the bad luck to be
stuck behind someone adhering strictly to the speed limit.
By the time I got to the med center, my stomach had
twisted itself into knots and I'd sweated big rings under my
arms. I parked in the lot and headed into the lobby, where
I managed to decipher the signs to find my mom's floor. I
took the elevator with a pair of chatty nurses and a worn-
looking older man with a basebal cap puled low on his
head.
It was just past 11:00 p.m., not the darkest hour of the
night or anything, but even so the floor was dim and quiet.
The nurses talked softly at the desk. I'd never been to the
ICU before. I wasn't happy to be here, now.
"Alicia DeMarco?" I rested my hands flat on the counter to keep myself from biting my nails. "Her doctor caled and
keep myself from biting my nails. "Her doctor caled and
said she was being moved here?"
The nurse consulted a chart. I thought there'd be trouble
with visiting hours, but she just smiled and told me the
room number and pointed the way helpfuly. My knotted
stomach twisted tighter. If my mom was realy fine I
thought they'd have made me wait until morning, which
would've annoyed me since I'd made the trip, but would've
meant she was going to be okay.
I didn't have that reassurance now.
She looked smal in the bed. Pale without her many layers
of makeup. Her hair not teased or even combed, just
puled back from her face in a high ponytail. She was
sleeping. Machines beeped and something squeaked by in
the hal outside as I just stared.
Her breath rattled and I jumped at the sound. When I
crossed to the bed, I couldn't be sure I'd wake her. I
didn't know if she could be woken.
Her eyes fluttered open when I sat in the chair next to the
bed. "Paige."
"Hi, Mom." I scooted closer. Under the covers her chest
rose higher than looked right. I couldn't avoid looking.
"Checking out my new rack?" My mom's voice cracked
and she drew in a slow, pained breath.
"Why didn't you tel me?"
I waited for a long few minutes for her to answer. Her
eyes closed. I thought she'd falen back to sleep, but then
she licked her lips and coughed.
"Hurts like a bastard," she said.
I didn't ask her again. There'd be time for questions and
accusations, and I had no doubt there'd be plenty of both.
My mom opened her eyes. Then she closed them again,
only to reopen them a second later. She smiled. "Paige."
I moved to the chair next to her bed and took her hand.
"Mom. What the hel's going on?"
"Language," my mother cautioned, and looked at the
plastic pitcher on the nightstand. "Can you pour me some
water? I'm dying."
Alarmed, I stopped halfway to grabbing the pitcher.
"Mom!"
"Shh," she said.
"Mom. You're not dying."
"I'm dying of thirst. Give me a drink, for God's sake." She frowned. "Am I going to have to ring for a nurse?"
"No." I poured and held it up for her to sip, but she waved me away with an irritated sigh.
"I can do it."
I watched her sip delicately at the water, and I watched as
she spiled it al down her chin to wet the neck of her
hospital gown. When I took the cup away, I handed her a
tissue from the holder next to the pitcher. She blotted her
mouth and held the tissue to her nostrils, one then the
other, before crumpling it in her fist.
"I know you think I should have told you what was going
on," she said.
"No shit."
"No shit."
"Paige." My mom gave me one of her looks, but it left me
unaffected. She sighed again. "I didn't want to worry you."
"How long have you known? Mom, my God." I wasn't
thirsty, but I poured myself a cup of water anyway to give
my hands something to do. Then I remembered I was in a
hospital, the air afloat with who knew what sorts of
noxious germs, and I put the cup down.
My mother watched me from dark-shadowed eyes.
Without her makeup on she looked so much younger.
Prettier, even, despite the circles and lines of fatigue
etched at the corners of her eyes. She'd never have gone
out in public like that, but I liked seeing her without so
much paint covering her face.
"For a few months. I found a lump one day and went to
have it checked out. They did a biopsy. It was cancer,
so…" She gestured with her fingertips at the room.
"But why didn't you tel me?" I didn't mean to whisper, and the way I clutched at her hand surprised me. I bent
forward to press my forehead to her hand in mine, and
that
surprised me, too. "I'd have helped you!"
"I didn't want you to worry," she repeated. "And you are helping me. You're taking care of Arty. Where is Arty?"
I felt hot, feverish, my mom's hand cool on my skin the
way it had been for countless childhood ilnesses. Only,
she was the sick one this time, not me. "He's at home with
Leo."
"Oh."
At my mom's smal voice, I looked up. "You told him."
She nodded after a pause. "I had to. He wanted to know
why I didn't want to be with him anymore. He wouldn't
believe me when I said it was someone new."
"You didn't. Oh, Mom." I shook my head. "How could
you do that to him?"
She yanked her hand from mine with an unexpected
strength. "Don't you judge me, Miss Smarty. You're not
exactly the best judge of how to make a relationship work,
are you?"
My jaw dropped, but I closed it with a click. "What's that
got to do with anything? Leo loves you. You love him."
got to do with anything? Leo loves you. You love him."
She shrugged. "I wasn't going to wait and see if he stil
loved me when I was sick and losing my hair. When I was
—" She snapped her mouth closed into a tight, fierce line,
her lips sewn shut against whatever it was she refused to
say.
"But you could've told me." I sat back in the chair, a
milion miles between us. "Unless you think I would've
stopped loving you, too."
A single tear spiled out of each of her eyes and slid in twin
silver tracks over her cheeks. "I didn't want you to worry,
baby, that's al. This was something I thought I could
manage on my own."
Her eyelids fluttered closed again. "Paige, I'm tired now.
Let me sleep."
I wasn't close to being finished, but even I couldn't push
her right now. I stood and patted the bedcovers. "I'm
going to see if I can talk to a doctor or something. I'l
come back tomorrow, okay?"
Her words stopped me in the doorway, a chil skittering
Her words stopped me in the doorway, a chil skittering
along my spine.
"Take care of him."
I shuddered at the vision of eyeless children with torn and
bloody fingertips. I turned, but of course it was only my
mom in her bed, her eyes closed but her mouth moving.
"If anything happens to me, Paige, you need to take care
of Arty. Promise me."
"I promise." It was the only answer to give, realy, whether I thought I could honor it or not.
She smiled. Then I heard a familiar soft snoring and knew
she'd falen asleep. I left and went back to the nurses'
station, where a woman in a starched uniform told me
she'd page Dr. Frank and he'd meet me in the lounge when
he was available. I folowed her directions down the hal
and around the corner to find the lounge decorated in early
American Depression, worn couches in shades of beige
and brown, and abstract art in the same colors on wals in
the same tones. I felt like I'd walked into a giant box of
chocolates, which might have been the look the designer
had been going for. We were in Hershey, after al.
I perched on the edge of the couch but jumped again at
once when the doctor entered the room. Dr. Frank turned
out to be tal, with a head of wild, dark hair and a strong
grip. "Paige DeMarco?"
I nodded and he smiled as he let go of my hand. "Your
mom's going to be fine. Her blood pressure's stabilized
and we managed to stop the hemorrhaging. It was touch-
and-go there for a while, though, I won't kid you. And
she'l have to stay in the hospital a bit longer."
I'd thought I was okay until the floor jumped up to try to
smack me in the face, and Dr. Frank's big hands eased me
onto a couch, where he put a hand on the back of my
neck and pushed my head between my knees with the
practice of a man used to dealing with fainters.
"Breathe in through your nose, out through your mouth," he said.
I tried, but my hands were shaking and each breath I took
whistled through my nostrils in a way I found utterly
distracting. It worked, though, because in a minute or so I
no longer felt a red haze threatening to cover me. I looked
up.
up.
"Sorry."
He shook his head. "It happens. Your mom realy is going
to be fine."
"She didn't even tel me she was coming in," I told him. "I had no idea. I'm just a little…can you tel me what's going
to happen now? With her treatment, I mean."
So he sat beside me and laid out the plan of treatment for
my mom, how long it would probably take and what she'd
have to do, and what I could do to help her. Her reasons
for choosing a reconstruction right away instead of waiting
for chemo treatment, the way I'd thought it was always
done. He explained everything to me, more about breast
cancer than I'd ever wanted to know, and I stil didn't quite
understand it al. It was worse than I'd been expecting,
only because up until a few hours ago I hadn't known
anything was wrong with her. My shock must have shown
on my face, because he patted my shoulder.
"There's nothing you can do for her right now. Why don't
you go on home and get some sleep." He paused. "Do you
have anyone who can come get you? You don't look like
have anyone who can come get you? You don't look like
you should be driving."
I nodded without realy thinking about who I'd cal, already
puling out my phone, and he patted my shoulder again. He
left without saying much more, but what was there to say?
My mom had breast cancer, she'd almost died, she'd
probably be fine, but she was stil going to need treatment.
It was a lot to absorb, and I was glad he hadn't stuck
around to baby me through it.
I flipped open my phone and pushed the Contacts button
to bring up my list of names and numbers. I didn't want to
cal my dad, I hadn't quite made up enough with Kira, and
Leo was with Arty. If I went home to Lebanon, I'd need a
ride in the morning to get my car. If I got a ride home, I
could take the bus to work and pick up my car later. I saw
two names in a row, one after the other. Two names, but
only one choice.
He came right away. I wasn't even ashamed that I hadn't
even doubted he would. It was simply something I knew I
could ask, and he would give.
The lobby doors parted and he walked through. The air
disappeared around me. I opened my mouth to speak, to
disappeared around me. I opened my mouth to speak, to
breathe, and could do neither.
I loved him.
I hadn't known it, or wouldn't admit it, but now I couldn't
do anything but feel it. Love was like a punch in the gut,
but I didn't double over. The world tipped up again, the
floor a rocking, roling platform that had decided to throw
me off it. I didn't fal because he was there to catch me.
The smel of him blocked out the scents of bad coffee and
>
exhaustion and bad news. I breathed, and he filed me.
It was Austin.
Chapter 34
Of course, like an idiot, I didn't tel him I loved him. I let him drive me home and I took him upstairs, where he
hesitated in the doorway until I puled him close and shut
the door behind us. When my mouth found his, he sighed
and his arms went around me as tight as I liked it.
We'd never been shy about fucking on the floor, a table,
the couch. Against a wal. But this time I took his hand and
led him to my bedroom, where I pushed him gently until he
lay on the bed and I crawled up over him to kiss his mouth
and face. Straddling him, I rocked against his denim-
covered crotch until his cock sweled inside his jeans, and
then I slid my body down until I could kiss him there.
My lips left a wet mark, and through the thick material I
could feel his hardness. I pushed my hands under his ass to
lift him closer to my mouth as I rubbed my face on his
thigh. I unbuckled his belt and puled down the jeans and
his boxers. I took him in my mouth, and he made a sound
like coming home.
I let the smel and taste of him fil me up the way it always
had, and I stopped trying to pretend it wasn't anything
had, and I stopped trying to pretend it wasn't anything
more than this. My hands found the weight of his bals, the
length of his cock. My mouth sucked, fingers stroked, lips
and teeth and tongue moved along him al the ways I knew
he liked it best.
He was moaning in minutes, his hips thrusting upward. I
took it al, his cock down my throat as far as I could, and
when he came, I took al that, too. He fel back, panting,
onto the pilows, and I crawled up him again to kiss his
mouth. Then I tucked myself up next to him in the place
that had always been mine.
He was quiet for a while, and I didn't want to talk. The rise
and fal of our breathing timed itself to each other. I put a
hand on his chest to feel the thump of his heart. Austin put
his hand over mine, and our fingers linked.
I fel asleep that way and woke to light outside my window
and a soft stroking between my legs. I didn't open my
eyes. If it was a dream, and it might have been, since the
entire night felt so unreal, I didn't want to wake. The
stroking hit me just right through the soft material of my
pajama bottoms and panties. I shifted, just enough, and
Austin paused to pul the fabric over my hips and thighs.