Her eyes teared up. “I do want to see you happy.”
“Mom, I am happy. I will be even happier when the doctor tells you that your heart will be okay.”
At that moment, Kade and Kelton stalked in.
“Heart?” Kade’s voice hitched as he practically pushed me out of the way to get to Mom.
Dad raised his finger to his lips. “Shh.” He flicked his chin at Raven. “I didn’t want to tell you on the phone, only for you two to speed down the highway and get into an accident.”
“You said she was fine.” Kelton spoke low.
Both my brothers appeared shaken. I was glad Dad had called them instead of me. Otherwise, I would’ve spilled my guts. Then who knew what the outcome would’ve been. If I had upset them, they could’ve gotten into an accident on their way here.
“I am,” Mom said.
Kade leaned down and kissed Mom on the forehead. Big brother, Kade, always the protector, worrier, and father figure. “But you’re going to be okay?” Kade ran a hand through his honey-brown hair.
Mom glanced up at him with so much love pouring off her. “Of course. The doctor is going to run some tests in the morning since the EKG showed some abnormalities. He thinks I might have angina, where one of my arteries around my heart has narrowed. But he’ll know more in the morning. The good news is once they gave me a blood thinner, the pain subsided.”
“If it’s the stable angina, then it’s manageable,” Dad said. “But honey, you do have to exercise more.”
Mom glanced down at Raven. “I was. I was playing tag with her down by the lake when I started having pains.”
“Mom,” Kelton said. “Regular exercise, like walking more.”
My mom wasn’t one for running or exerting herself, but it was good to know that she wasn’t in any pain at the moment.
Kade visibly relaxed, grabbing my mom’s other hand. “Kody, are you coming to Boston this weekend?”
I raised an eyebrow. “Am I supposed to? I’m helping Mr. Robinson out at The Cave on Saturday with open-mic night.”
“No. I want to make sure you’re home to watch over Raven while Mom recovers,” Kade said.
“Who’s the father in this room?” I asked teasingly.
Everyone laughed except Kade, who was sporting a serious expression.
“I’ll be home,” my dad said in a tone that implied hey, what about me? “Plus, Kross and Ruby fly in on Saturday evening.”
“I thought you had a conference,” Kade said.
“Next weekend,” Dad replied.
Kelton sidled up to Kade. “Chill, bro. I’ll come home on Friday since Lizzie is working on Friday night. Then she can head down with you on Sunday for our family cookout.”
My mom beamed from ear to ear. “I would love that. Kade, why don’t you and Lacey plan on coming home next Friday while your dad’s away?”
“It might just be me,” Kade said. “Lacey has finals.”
Regardless, the color was returning to my mom’s face, and all of us in the room let out a sigh of relief. Life was okay for the moment.
Chapter 4
Jessie
The Counting Crows crooned from the portable stereo on the shop bench along the side wall, where I kept all my tools. I sang as I worked on the Ducati Monster, a sweet motorcycle that could top speeds of 128 miles per hour. I itched to take it out and feel the wind in my face. There was nothing more energizing than a ride at eighty to ninety miles per hour on the open road.
My brother, Lowell, came up to me in his high-powered wheelchair. “I’m sick of that song.”
I rolled my eyes. “Who pissed in your Wheaties?” I snatched the towel that hung on the leather seat.
He pursed his lips together, narrowing his dark-brown eyes at me. “Did you work on Bidwell’s bike yet?”
I wiped my hands on the towel, tipping my head at the ancient Yamaha. “It’s done. Why? Is the guy upset? He just brought it in two days ago, and we told him we would have it ready on Monday.”
He threaded dirty fingernails through his wild brown curls as he hunched into himself.
“What’s going on?”
My brother’s middle name could be worrywart. He constantly agonized over finances, the shop, me, the house, and even himself. He couldn’t do much since his racing accident at the age of nineteen had left him paralyzed from the waist down. But the house and shop had been modified for a handicapped person, so he could get around easily.
His right hand shook. “Business sucks. That’s all.”
I’d never seen him so agitated, and the nurse in me immediately started rifling through all the medical conditions associated with a neurological disease.
“It has all winter,” I said. Normally the winter months didn’t bode well for tuning up motorcycles. “We should get busier with the warmer weather. Unless something else is on your mind.”
I knew from discussions with Lowell that he felt awful because he couldn’t work since jobs were limited for him. Sure, he could probably get an office job, but he wouldn’t. He’d sworn after our dad died that he would do everything he could to continue our dad’s dream. Plus, Lowell loved working on cars, motorcycles, and any engine, for that matter. But he’d been in a wheelchair for over eleven years, so I would guess his anxiety didn’t stem from the fact that he couldn’t work.
He had a faraway look in his eyes. “I’m good.”
“Maybe we should consider hiring someone. Motorcycle season is heating up.” I was at the point that I was exhausted, and with my recent DNA results, my head wasn’t on straight, although tinkering with engines or working in the shop was an escape for me.
He gripped the arms of his wheelchair. “How am I supposed to pay them?” His tone could cut ice.
I folded my arms over my chest. “I know money’s tight. I get the sense something else is going on, though.” Maybe he was thinking about our mom. She’d died in the spring four years ago—June to be exact—and we were approaching her anniversary.
He glanced out the bay door. The late-afternoon sun cast a shadow across the driveway.
I placed my hand on his shoulder. “Are you thinking of Mom?” A pain clutched my chest. We both missed her dearly. I held back tears as I thought of how she would walk into the shop with lemonade and sandwiches while Lowell and I worked and sang. Even when she had slowly been withering away, she’d kept an upbeat attitude.
“Lowell, talk to me. Why is your hand shaking?” I twisted the towel in my hand as though it was laden with water. I’d seen my fair share of patients with different conditions that could cause someone’s hands to shake.
His dark eyebrows drew down. “My hand is fine.” He held out his arm. “See? Steady.”
Maybe I was imagining things. For three nights, since I’d gotten the news I carried the mutated BRCA1 gene, sleep had escaped me.
Lowell feigned a smile. “You worry too much, sis.”
Like brother, like sister. But I stressed over him more than anything. Lowell had been in and out of doctors’ offices and physical therapy, and he had been depressed for years. He’d been seeing a psychiatrist in town, who had helped his state of mind.
“Lowell, I love you. If anything happened to you, I don’t know what I would do. You’re the only family I have left.” In his past depressed state, he’d always said he wasn’t suicidal. My mom had asked point-blank if he had been. His answer had always been a quick no. I wasn’t exactly worried about him taking his own life as much as I was worried about his physical state. Stress could certainly land a person in the hospital.
I had contemplated telling him about my DNA test, but I knew my brother, and he would ask a million questions I didn’t have the answers to yet. My gynecologist had recommended I speak with a genetic counselor, who would explain the facts and my options. I’d made an appointment for Monday. Regardless, I had to come to terms with what I was facing. Until I did, I wasn’t telling my brother, especially since something was bothering him.
Lowell�
��s large, warm hand covered mine. “Now I should ask you what’s wrong.”
I shook off the chills, feigning a smile. “We’re just in great shape today, aren’t we?”
He chuckled, a sound I loved hearing from my brother since he didn’t laugh much. I couldn’t help but laugh with him.
I slung the towel over the bike’s handlebars. “Did you know that before Mom died, she was seeing a psychiatrist?” I wasn’t surprised she’d been talking to Mr. Maxwell. However, I was miffed that she hadn’t told me. We’d talked about everything.
Lowell’s unshaven jaw twisted. “No. Was it Dr. Davis?”
“It’s not your psychiatrist, but a Mr. Maxwell.”
“The family that lives on the outskirts of Ashford?”
I nodded as I went over to the stereo to lower the volume. “I met him recently when he brought his wife into the ER.” I also met his gorgeous son, who’s popped into my mind several times in the last three days, and I can’t wait to see him at the cookout tomorrow. “Do you know Mr. Maxwell?”
He scratched his head. “I believe one of his sons dated Mandy Shear before she died in that motorcycle accident out in Lancaster about six years ago. Do you remember her? She would’ve been sixteen back then. I worked on her bike a few times. Plus, I overhear customers talk.”
I shouldn’t have been surprised. After all, Ashford was a small town, and Lowell did deal with local folks more than me. I’d been off to nursing school at eighteen, so I hadn’t been around much.
I returned to the Ducati. “You and Mack worked in the shop back then.” My brother had hired Mack, who’d been fifteen at that time, and taught him how to work on cars and motorcycles. “Where is Mack these days?” I hadn’t seen him in months.
“He’s been on the West Coast, racing. He still has a thing for you.”
I laughed. “Mack has always had his eye on me.” I’d finally given in and had sex with him last year before he left town. But back when he’d been sixteen and I’d been nineteen, it hadn’t felt right to accept his advances.
“He’s a decent guy, Jess. You two would make a great pair.”
I lifted an eyebrow. “You’re playing matchmaker?” That seemed so unlike Lowell. “Don’t answer that. I hooked up with him one time. Then he took off.” I liked Mack. He was built like a stone wall, every inch of him hard and ripped. He also had dirty-blond hair, a trait I adored on men. Not to mention, he was a badass dude who rode a Harley when he wasn’t racing Ducatis around the track. But looks weren’t everything. Mack had a dark side that I wasn’t all that enamored with. He’d done a few stints in jail, had been into drugs in his late teens, and he was a mean drunk. I couldn’t say I was all that upset when he’d left.
“He’s coming home,” Lowell said a bit excitedly as he directed his power wheelchair toward the office. “Maybe when we get busy around here, I can coax him into picking up the slack, free of charge.”
“He’s not my type,” I lied. Physically, he was. It was his lack of morals, his habits, and his past that I didn’t care for. Everyone does things they regret. A nervous laugh broke out in my head. Mack could be sweet, but he was also carefree. Therefore, I doubted he regretted anything he’d done.
The sound of an engine severed our conversation. I swung my gaze from Lowell to the red Nissan pulling into the driveway. Roxanne had perfect timing. I let out a quiet sigh, thankful I didn’t have to argue with my brother about why Mack wasn’t the guy for me.
Roxanne got out of her car, dressed in flip-flops, shorts, and a cotton shirt that hung off one of her shoulders. Then she ducked back into the car and emerged with a canvas bag.
My brother stopped in front of the open bay door. “Roxy, it’s too early for you to be here on a Saturday. You usually waltz in around ten at night.”
On those Saturdays, when Roxanne and I weren’t working, we would hang out at my house with Lowell, watching movies, eating, and drinking.
She dipped into her bag and produced a bottle of red wine. “I’m not working today. So your sister and I are going to have some fun tonight.”
Lowell tossed a look my way. “Are you going out?” More sadness than curiosity blanketed his question.
Suddenly, I felt as if he’d slapped me in the face. I shouldn’t have felt bad for wanting to spend a Saturday night with my best friend, but I also didn’t want to leave my brother alone. He’s thirty years old and self-sufficient around the house. You need to get out for a night and let loose.
“We’re going to The Cave to listen to music and have a few drinks,” Roxanne said. “Maybe I can coax your sister into performing for open-mic night.”
“Do you want to come?” I asked Lowell. “You could play the piano while I sing.” I would feel more relaxed with Lowell there.
“You mean you’re going to get up on stage?” Roxanne’s voice hitched so high, she could have passed as Minnie Mouse.
I shrugged. I’d told her I would think about it, and I really hadn’t. If Lowell tagged along, I would feel more at ease with performing in front of a crowd. Or if he played while I sang, that would help tremendously. He was better at the piano than me, anyway. We both played but not as much as we had when we were kids and our mom made us practice relentlessly. She had also been a great piano player and our teacher.
“No,” Lowell said. “You girls have a good time.”
“Please?” I asked my brother. “It would be like old times when we would put on a show for Mom.”
“My piano playing is rusty, and I have a date with a movie tonight.” He wheeled away.
My heart broke as I walked over to Roxanne. “I should stay home.”
Her small fingers circled my arm. “Absolutely not.” Her voice was low. “You need this, and Lowell is a big boy.”
I stabbed a thumb at the Ducati. “I have to finish the bike,” I lied.
She tugged me out of the garage. “That’s your bike, and therefore, you can work on it anytime.”
Busted. I didn’t have any more excuses since we didn’t have any other bikes to work on. I’d finished the Yamaha, and wine did sound great.
As we headed for my house, which was located behind the shop, Roxanne inspected my fingers. “Girl, you better scrub those nails.”
I yanked my hand from hers. “I like the grease. My dirty nails will keep the men away,” I teased. Or maybe I wasn’t kidding. Actually, hooking up with someone sounded like a way to relieve some stress.
“Or grease on a woman could attract the wrong man,” she said.
A light wind ruffled the trees that lined the long driveway leading up to my two-story house. Once we were inside, Roxanne headed straight to the kitchen. We had a wide-open floor plan. After Lowell’s accident, my mom had remodeled to accommodate him so he could get around easily in his wheelchair.
Roxanne set two wine glasses down on the marble island. “So, I found out through Mrs. Maxwell that Kody is working at The Cave tonight.”
Just like that, we were back to men. Maybe it was best I concentrated on something other than grease and bikes and DNA results. Maybe Kody would be my hookup for a night of glorious, sweaty, mind-blowing sex.
As Roxanne opened the bottle of wine, I washed the grease off my hands. Once they were clean, I wrapped my fingers around the stem of the wine glass.
“Cheers.” Roxanne clinked her glass with mine. “Here’s to a fun night.”
I took a big gulp of wine, the alcohol immediately warming my body. I let out a huge sigh as my muscles loosened.
She grinned from ear to ear. “See? Drink more. You’ll relax.” Padding over to the French doors that spilled onto our back deck, she sipped her wine. “I just love the view here.”
I joined her, taking another mouthful of wine. My mom had planted lilac trees, a flower garden that traveled along the perimeter of the fence with rose bushes and different types of colorful perennials interspersed in between. To complement the lush gardens, a lighted waterfall donned one corner of the yard.
The
sun’s rays streaked into the kitchen, highlighting the sparkles around Roxanne’s brown eyes that appeared sad all of a sudden.
I nudged her with my elbow. “Are you going dark on me?”
She cleared her throat. “I’m sorry. I was thinking about your mom. She spent so much time out there.”
“Roxanne,” I warned as hot tears threatened. “This is supposed to be a fun night. Don’t get all melancholy on me, or else I won’t go out.”
She drank half her glass of wine in one gulp. “We take a taxi tonight.”
No argument from me. The Cave wasn’t far from the house, but it wasn’t exactly walking distance, either. Considering I was feeling no pain after downing half my glass, a taxi was the way to go.
“Come on, let’s get ready.” I started for my upstairs bedroom.
She grabbed the bottle of wine then followed. “So, Gayle told me that Jake Trent is in town.”
I tossed a look over my shoulder when I reached the top landing. “The former manager of the band Zeal?”
“Yep. Your favorite band.”
I’d seen Jake one time when Roxanne and I were in Boston on New Year’s Eve a year or two ago. But it wasn’t Jake I was gaga over. His brother JJ was the dreamy one.
I continued down the hall, passing two bedrooms and a bathroom before reaching my room at the end. After my mom passed, I moved into the master bedroom since it had an en-suite. Lowell had his own private section of the house downstairs.
I plopped down on my bed while Roxanne set the wine bottle on my dresser near the bathroom. Then she got comfortable in the window seat that I loved above everything else in the house. The view of the backyard was even better up there, especially at night when the landscape lighting provided a soft glow around the gardens and the waterfall.
Roxanne tucked her legs underneath her. “Are we still on for the cookout at Kody’s house tomorrow afternoon?”
Dare to Live Page 4