Between Us 2

by Christine Bell

  I wracked my brain for any tidbits of information I’d gleaned from the ether about organ transplants. “Do you have any family that might be able to help or at least check and see if they could be a match?”

  She locked her stormy blue eyes on me and nodded slowly. “I do, actually. I’ve got grown kids. But we had a falling out and it’s been years since we’ve spoken.” She shrugged and gave me a watery smile. “My husband died around the same time, so it’s pretty much just me now.”

  “That’s terrible,” I murmured, wracking my brain for something else to say. Something to do to help. “Maybe it’s time to reach out again. Try to mend fences.”

  “Do you honestly think that would work?” she asked, her voice barely a whisper now, but her gaze filled with a kernel of hope that about broke my heart.

  “I do. I’m a firm believer in second chances, Shay.” And that was the damned truth. As much as I didn’t want to be like my mother, not a day passed when I didn’t regret not going to see her before she died. In an effort to not get stuck in that crappy little town, I’d turned away from her and it still made my chest hurt when I thought of the last time we talked.

  “I’m thinking of coming home for Christmas, Ma.”

  “Don’t,” she’d said. “You stay right where you are and have an adventure for me, would you, Lo? And send me some pictures.”

  I’d wound up going with some people from my ballet troupe to a ski chalet and learning to snowboard. I’d sent pictures but I hadn’t even called on Christmas Day. She was dead four days later of an aneurism. All the plans I had to make gobs of money and send for her...drive down to Masonville, scoop her up and take her on some of her own adventures, died with her that day. Not being able to do that was the single greatest regret of my life.

  I swallowed the lump in my throat and faced Shay again. “You’ve got to contact them, Shay. I will stand right by your side. We can do it together.” I took her hand in mine and held her gaze. “You’ve got nothing to lose, and everything to gain. Where do they live?”

  “Actually, that’s part of the reason I came to Vegas.” She chewed on her bottom lip, eyes filled with wary hope. “They live here now, and I wanted to be close to them even if I couldn’t see them.”

  “Okay, perfect! We’ve got people coming in shortly, but what do you say we meet early tomorrow before our shift? You can think about what you want to say and I can listen and tell you what I think. Like a dry run?”

  “That sounds really good. I appreciate it more than you know. I’ll start working on it tonight as soon as we’re out of here. And, seriously, thank you for this. It’s so nice to find a kindred spirit. I feel like I’ve known you forever.” She gave my hand a squeeze. “Speaking of which, I think we’ve moved past stage names by now, don’t you think, Lola the showgirl? What’s the name your Mama gave you?”

  I returned her smile and shrugged. “Hard to believe, but I’m Lola now and I was Lola since the day I came out of my mother’s belly.”

  She let out a sharp crack of laughter. “Well, imagine that. What are the odds?”

  “What about you? Shay short for something, or have you always been Shay?”

  “Nah, I just thought Shay sounded fancy and kind of exotic. My real name is Sherri. Sherri McDaniels.”

  * * *

  Reid

  I’d just finished up my last afternoon class when my cell phone buzzed in my pocket. I plucked it out and peered down at the screen, psyched to see Lola’s number.

  "Hello?"

  "Hey there. Did I catch you in the middle of something?”

  I strode toward the locker room and scooped up my bag as I passed it. "Nope. Just finished. Going to take a quick shower and come pick you up. Almost done there?” The question was loaded and my stomach was clenched as I waited for her answer. I was pretty sure we were good, but there was still a little bit of residual fear that she was going to back out. Like Olivia said, she was a runner, and who knew what might happen now that she’d had hours to think it all through?

  "Yep, just got a few stragglers and then clean up. I was actually wondering if you wanted to come in instead of just pulling up? There's something I wanted to talk to you about."

  I took a quick glance at my watch. "Sure. I’ve been daydreaming about a slab of that raspberry pie you’ve got in that case anyway, so I’ll come in and have a slice while we wait for our wings to cook.”

  “Yeah, um, that sounds good.”

  I hadn't heard it at first, but now there was no question that she sounded nervous. Not scared, but definitely apprehensive. Maybe even a little standoffish.

  The anticipation at the idea of seeing her began to fade and an icy ball formed in my stomach. If she was bringing me to the diner just so she could give me the kiss off...

  "Is something wrong, Lo?" I asked, determined not to fuck around and play games. We were both adults and there was no point in beating around the bush. If she was done with me, I'd rather know it now than spend the next twenty minutes waiting for the axe to fall.

  "No. Everything is great. Really. I can’t wait for our date."

  She wouldn’t go as far as to straight out lie to me like that, and my stomach relaxed. Whatever she was nervous about didn’t seem to have anything to do with us, so I’d settle into wait and see mode. I could live with that. "Okay, see you in about half an hour.”

  I took a quick shower and tugged on some clean gym pants and a t-shirt before swinging by the gym where Bash stood, jumping rope like a madman.

  "I'm out," I called to him. “Going to Lola’s for wings and beer. Probably won’t be home tonight, so I’ll talk to you tomorrow.”

  Bash paused and turned to face me, breath sawing in and out of his lungs. “Sounds good. And unless you want to be a fat bastard, you might want to make this your last night of wings, bro.”

  I knew by the longing expression on his face and the grumbling that his pre-fight diet was killing him so I didn’t bother to respond. I just shot him the middle finger over my shoulder and headed out the door.

  I made the drive to the diner and stepped through the door into the air-conditioned space, grateful for a reprieve from the heat.

  Lola was sitting at a booth with a large, white bag in front of her.

  "Hey," she said, standing as I approached the booth. Her lips were curved into a shy smile I'd never seen before, and it prompted me to smile back. Something might be bothering her, but it didn't seem to have anything to do with last night, judging by the blush on her cheeks. “Food’s done already and I got your pie, too.”

  She looked great, even in her yellow waitress uniform, and I bent down to give her a quick kiss.

  “So let’s get out of here,” I said, straightening.

  “Sit for a second. There’s something I wanted to talk to you about quick.”

  I lowered myself into the seat across from her and she sat back down to join me.

  She sucked in a breath and blew it out in a rush. “Something really strange happened today. Something so oddly coincidental that it feels like fate.” She leaned in and grabbed my hand. “I found out that I--” She broke off and swallowed hard enough that I could hear it in the empty dining room in spite of the loud clang of dishes coming from the kitchen, and another sizzle of apprehension ran through me. “I know your mother.”

  I heard the words, but they didn’t make any sense. “What the hell are you talking about, Lo?”

  “Your mother Sherri. She works here at the restaurant. We’re friends…or, I guess, we’ve been friendly the past couple weeks. She goes by Shay for short, so I didn’t make the connection.”

  “What the fuck is she doing in Vegas?” I’d barely gotten the words out when the question answered itself. She was here to do her favorite thing.

  Break her some McDaniels boys.

  I pulled my hand away from Lola and moved to stand. “This is kind of a shock, and I need some time to absorb--”

  “I invited her here so you guys could talk,”
she blurted.

  The room pitched as that sank in. "My mother…Sherri McDaniels is coming here? Now?"

  "Yes.” Lola wrung her hands together looking almost as miserable as I felt, but I couldn’t find it in me to care. “She went home to take a shower and get fixed up so she could look nice for you and all. Reid, she needs you. I know you guys had problems in the past."

  "Do you, Lo? Do you know that? Because it sure as shit doesn't seem like you do."

  "I do get it, Reid. I really do. She was bad to you. You had mentioned some things and then, when I found out who she was today, she told me the rest. It was terrible. I just don’t want you to have regrets and--"

  I cut in with a laugh, but it came out more like the rusty bark of a seal. Harsh, bitter, and anything but humorous.

  "Do tell," I urged, sweeping a hand in front of me in invitation. "Tell me everything, Lo. I'm all ears."

  I was ice cold, inside and out, and she flinched. The hurt expression on her face gave me a quick stab of guilt, but it was instantly crushed by the sheer weight of my fury.

  "She, um, she said that your dad died and she had a rough patch. And she told me how she left you because she wasn't mentally stable and was afraid, if she stayed, she would hurt you." She reached for my hand, but before she got there, I'd pulled away.

  "What else did dear old mom tell you?"

  Her brows wrinkled in confusion as she leaned toward me. "What else what? Look, I know she left you. And that must've been excruciating. But it's been ten years now and she’s regretted it every day since. Maybe it’s time to try to find a way toward forgiveness?"

  Each word was like a razor cut and it took every ounce of my self-discipline not to howl with rage.

  What was there to say here? She had it wrong. Sooo fucking wrong. But rehashing it all? Saying out loud what had actually happened? That would only make it worse. Like ripping the scab off a decade-old wound and reliving it all over again.

  "Here's what's going to happen, Lola. I'm going to get up and walk out of this diner. You are going to go tell my mother that if she ever tries to contact me again, through you, or directly, I'm going to call the police and file a restraining order. Now listen close to this part, because this is where you get to choose your own adventure."

  I stood and leaned in close enough that our faces were almost touching.

  "You can tell my mother to stay the hell away from you too, and save yourself what I guarantee will be an inordinate amount of pain in the long run. Or you can remain friends with her, and wait for the shit-storm that follows her wherever she goes to hit. But either way it goes, you and I are through."

  I was halfway to the door when a hand on my arm stopped me.

  "Reid, please. Just listen to me. She didn't want me to tell you this, but she's sick."

  "Damn right she's sick. Twisted. Broken. Totally fucked in the head. And accepting that is the best thing you can do for yourself right now.”

  "No. I mean she's really sick."

  I broke away from her, determined to get out of there before my mother walked through the door and this situation got any more out of hand, but Lola scurried in front of me.

  "She's got liver disease. The doctors say if she doesn't get a transplant she won't make it another year." Her tear-filled eyes searched mine. "Reid...your mother is dying. She’s got twelve months, tops."

  “Oh yeah?” The riot of emotions coursing through me felt like they were big enough to burst out of my skin and obliterate the whole fucking city. “Well that’s ten years and twelve months longer than she ever deserved. Tell her I said good riddance.”

  I skirted around her and stormed toward the door, my feet on autopilot, desperate to get me as far away from this girl as possible.

  For the first time since I’d met her, I wondered if maybe she was right from the start. Maybe I was too good for her.

  Because what she’d done to me today? Was about the shittiest thing anyone had done to me since my mother had walked out.

  Chapter Six

  Lola

  Sweet Reid. The Boy Scout.

  I don't know what I expected from him but whatever it was, it wasn’t this. An anger so deep and true it raised the hair on the back of my neck and made my stomach pitch.

  I made a mad dash for the door, my heart in my throat and my thoughts firmly on my own, dead mother as I blocked the door with my body. But when his dark eyes went even colder, I barely suppressed a wince.

  "Do you care, Reid? Even a little?"

  "Sure I care,” he explained slowly, like he was talking to a child. “I care about my brothers and their soon-to-be wives. I care about the kids I volunteer to help every day so they can learn to protect themselves on the mean streets. I care about the women I teach to fight so they don't have to be afraid walking through a dark parking lot at night. But if you're asking me if I care that Sherri McDaniels is dying?"

  He shook his head slowly, pinning me with his bleak gaze.

  "I don't. Because she's been dead to me for years. Now get out of my way, Lo."

  "Reid--"

  "Move or I'll move you. See that? You have another choice to make. It’s nice to have choices, isn’t it?"

  His jaw was flexed tight and I could tell by his expression that he wasn't above picking me up and moving me to the side to escape this.

  The situation I'd unwittingly put him in.

  Because it finally hit me, and hit me hard.

  If sweet, fair, honest, Boy Scout Reid McDaniels hated his mother this much, what type of person was she? Had I just made a terrible mistake even asking him to consider seeing her?

  I stood there for one more long moment, frozen with indecision, staring at the pain in his tortured eyes. Then, I stepped slowly to one side and watched as he stormed out, the anger rolling off him in nearly tangible waves.

  My legs had started to shake and I lowered myself to the nearest chair with a groan.

  I had stuck my nose somewhere I shouldn’t have. Stupid, stupid, stupid. I sank my head in my hands and let the tears flow.

  Reid had never been anything but wonderful to me, and I couldn’t seem to stop hurting him. No matter how pure my motives were, I’d overstepped my bounds by a giant leap.

  I swiped a hand over my face and peered at the clock.

  Sherri would be back any minute and I couldn’t face her. Not now and not like this. What could I possibly say at this point? She’d been so sure Reid wouldn’t want to talk to her, and she was right. I was the one who convinced her there was a chance. Now I needed to figure out how to let her down gently, and I was too raw from the hurt on Reid’s face to figure a way to do that. Bad mother or not, she was dying and I didn’t want to be needlessly cruel.

  I whipped off a quick text message letting her know that Reid had to cancel our date at the last minute but that I would talk to her tomorrow. Then, I went outside to catch a cab so I could get out of this place and spend the rest of the evening at home where I could beat myself up in private.

  Because there was no getting around it. I'd taken the word of a woman who I barely knew and ran with it based on nothing but her side of the events. And I’d almost certainly lost Reid for good in the process.

  * * *

  Reid

  I stood in the center of the floor and watched the heavy bag sway before bashing it again with a combination.

  It had been a long, sleepless night, and an even longer morning with memories crowding my mind until I’d fallen into a fitful sleep only to be awakened by nightmares every few minutes.

  Reboot cycle and start again.

  I was in love with Lola and this betrayal hurt like a son of a bitch, but no matter how many times I told myself I should just kick her to the curb, I kept seeing the look on her face.

  She cared. Maybe she made a mistake. Maybe she didn’t think it through. But she cared about me.

  On the opposite end of the spectrum, I hated Sherri. Had hated her for so long, it felt like part of my DNA. And still,
something about the idea of her dying made my stomach hurt.

  I let loose with another rapid-fire combination and bit back a string of curses. I’d been at the heavy bag for an hour now and I was no closer to feeling okay than I was when I started and I still had no answers.

  “Keep that up and you got a shot in my world, bro.”

  I looked over my shoulder to see Bash leaning against the wall behind me, gym bag slung over one shoulder, hair still wet from the shower.

  I gave the bag one more, half-hearted punch and stepped back. “Yeah, well, I’m pretty sure I’d get my ass handed to me if I did that. You boxers are a bunch of sticks in the mud with all those rules. No kicking? That’s ridiculous.”

  I tried to keep my tone light as I faced him, but in reality, it had been a long time since I’d felt so heavy. On top of the issues with Lo and now Sherri, I had to deal with my own guilt over hiding it from my brothers. It was only right that they had a chance to prepare themselves for what was shaping up to be a full-court press from our mother to ram her way back into our lives, one way or another.

  There was no question that I had to tell them. And I would.

  Soon.

  But with everything riding on Bash’s fight in just a handful of days, it wasn’t going to be now. I couldn’t do that to him.

  “What’s happening, bro? Lady problems?” Bash asked.

  I shrugged and then nodded. There was no reason to hide this part from him, anyway. He knew something was wrong and it would only worry him to pretend there wasn’t.

  “Yeah. Just a fight with Lo, is all. I think we’re on different paths. It’s fine, though.”

  “Is it? Because it doesn’t seem fine.”

  “She’s pressuring me to do something I don’t want to do and it’s pissing me off.”

  Bash barked out a laugh and his blue eyes lit with humor. “It really has been a while since you’ve had a girlfriend, hasn’t it? Welcome to the life of relationships, man. Olivia makes me do stuff I don’t want to all the time. Like wear a suit to a business meeting or go to some stupid party I don’t want to go to. Already, she’s planning out our Christmas card picture. Did you even know that was a thing?” He ran a hand through his black hair with a dazed shake of his head. “Thing is, none of that shit matters to me. I don’t want to do it, but it’s not so bad, really. And she’s worth it. All the positive stuff she brings to my life? If I have to dress up in a silk noose once in a while as a trade off? Totally worth it.”