Waiting on You

by Kristan Higgins

  But Mom would be really nice to Calvin because Mom was really nice, if a little obtuse. As for Colleen, having to wait here in the E.R. with nothing to do, or read...

  Maybe she'd call Faith. Nah. It was after nine, and Faith was a newlywed and probably shagging Levi this very moment.

  A sweet needle of envy pricked Colleen's heart. Not that she begrudged the happy couple. It was just that everyone seemed to be pairing off these days. Even Connor had a girlfriend, and one important enough to sneak around with. So far, the nanny cam she'd put on his bookshelf had captured nothing.

  Honor Holland and the lovely Tom Barlow had hooked up pretty fast, too. The first night Tom had come into the bar, Colleen felt a tiny spark of interest; how could she not, with Tom's blue-collar British accent and goofy smile? But the spark fizzled for no good reason. Just like with Jack. Just like with Greg the waiter from last summer. The damn spark always fizzled.

  Except with one guy.

  Maybe she understood Mom better than she let on.

  Not that she was still hung up on the past. She was happy, she'd gone out with plenty of guys and slept with a few (though not as many as she let people think).

  But there were a lot of nights in the past couple years when she lay in bed at night, wondering if she'd ever find anyone who made her feel...special. The way Lucas once had.

  Exactly four minutes had passed since she arrived. Maybe she'd go see if Jeremy Lyon was on call. He was always good for a chat.

  She walked through the E.R. to the main part of the hospital. Faith's niece, Abby Vanderbeek, was on the front desk, volunteering no doubt, earbuds in place as her thumbs flew across her phone.

  "Hey, Abby," she said to the teenager. "Is Jeremy working today?"

  "Oh, hey, Colleen," Abby said without taking out the earbuds. She tapped a few keys. "No, sorry. It's Dr. Chu. She's new and schizo, so beware."

  "Poop. Any patients I might know?" Colleen asked. Who knew how long Calvin would need Mom to stand guard?

  "I'm not supposed to tell," Abby said. "Confidentiality and all that."

  "I'm covered by HIPAA, since I work part-time at the nursing home."

  "Oh, yeah, I forgot. Have you seen Goggy and Pops over there?" Abby said, asking about her weirdly named great-grandparents.

  "No, they're not in my wing. I heard your grandmother complaining about the food, though. I hid."

  Abby smiled and hit a few more keys. "Let's see...how sick do you want them?"

  "Very sick. That way I can be an angel of mercy."

  "Dude. You're so awesome. Okay, I can fix you up. Joe Campbell's in for dialysis. You know where that is?"

  "I sure do," Colleen said. "Thanks, beautiful."

  The dialysis unit was on the third floor of the hospital, same floor as the intensive care unit. Last year, Gramp had been here for a week with pneumonia (almost managed to die that time before his pesky and amazing immune system saved him), and Colleen had seen Joe. After she'd gotten Gramp settled and he'd fallen asleep, she'd ventured over to say hi.

  She hadn't known him too well back when she was with Lucas, but Joe and Bryce had been a father-and-son fixture at the far end of the bar until six months ago.

  Being a bartender--the bartender--made her privy to all the town gossip. She'd heard that Joe's wife, the pinched and snotty Didi, hated going to his appointments, and Bryce seemed to be in denial about his dad's condition. Joe was often alone during these long, quiet stretches when his blood was cleaned and rotated back inside him.

  So yes, she'd visited. Dialysis took a long time, and it was boring. Three or four times a week, four to six hours at a stretch. Joe was always happy to see her.

  She peeked into Joe's curtained area. He was awake. "Time for your sponge bath, Mr. Campbell," she said in her sultriest voice, getting a most rewarding grin from him.

  "Which Mr. Campbell are you referring to?" came the voice behind her.

  She jumped.

  Lucas.

  Of course. He raised an eyebrow at her and sat down next to his uncle, a paper cup of coffee in his hand.

  He hadn't shaved today. Or yesterday, maybe. And what was it about that? Did they teach this to men in Man School? Don't shave, fellas. Chicks love that, wondering how it would feel to have your scratchy face in all sorts of places--

  "Lucas, it's you," she said, aware that she hadn't said a word. "I was referring to your much handsomer uncle. Hi, Joe! How are you?" She leaned over and kissed him, and he patted her hand.

  "It's nice to see you, sweetheart. I hope you brought me some of your amazing margaritas."

  "Wouldn't they kill you?" she asked.

  "But what a way to go." He smiled. "You remember my nephew, of course."

  "Well, given that we dated for four years, yes, I'm afraid I do." She smiled at Joe. Not at Lucas.

  "Have a seat, Colleen," Lucas said. There was a chair next to him.

  She tried not to brush against him as she sat down. Tried not to notice that he smelled so good, that clean, outdoor smell even here in the hospital.

  She cleared her throat. "So I'm here because my mom's date seems to need a drug fix. These are interesting times in the world of romance." She glanced at Lucas (damn those beautiful eyes), then told the story of the hirsute nude model, and by the end, Joe was laughing so hard he could hardly talk, tears leaking out of his eyes.

  "Oh, Colleen, it's good...to see you...sweetheart."

  His eyes closed, just like that. Lucas lurched forward.

  "He's asleep, that's all," she said.

  He glanced at her, frowning, then watched his uncle's chest, which rose and fell with a breath. Another one. Another. "How did you know that?" he asked, sitting back down.

  She shrugged. "Lucky guess."

  "Did you ever become a nurse?"

  "I'm an LPN. Licensed practical nurse. I work over at Rushing Creek. There are a couple dialysis patients there." She paused. "I've visited Joe here a couple times."

  "Thank you for that."

  She wondered if he knew that Joe came here alone most of the time.

  "So you understand how all this works, then?" Lucas asked.

  She nodded. "Do you?"

  "I watched a few YouTube videos." He looked tired. And worried.

  He'd never said too much about life with Joe and Didi. When they were dating, they didn't spend a lot of time with his relatives. There'd been an awkward family dinner in the early days (she seemed to remember insisting on it). Bryce had been as cheerful as a puppy, Didi with that pinched look, Joe amiable and friendly.

  But Lucas could say more with his eyes than most people could say in three days.

  Then again, that was the kind of thinking that had gotten her exactly nowhere.

  Lucas adjusted Joe's blanket, and that tender gesture...damn. Those were the kinds of things that messed with a person's head. She should go before she felt mushier than she did already.

  "So where are you staying while you're here?" she asked.

  "I got a furnished apartment in town. The old opera house."

  "Sure. Faith used to live there. With Levi. Well, across from Levi, then with Levi, then they bought a house. They're cute. The apartments, I mean. Well, Levi and Faith are cute, too. You know what I mean." She closed her eyes as the Tourette's of Terror welled up again, spurred on by the old feelings that had led to her ruination.

  She pictured Lucas in the generically furnished apartment, alone, not staying in the big McMansion where the other Campbells lived. The quiet of the green at night. No dog to keep him company.

  "Would you like to have dinner sometime?" she heard herself say.

  He gave her a long look, then nodded.

  "I'm only asking because, well, hell, maybe you're lonely. I collect strays, you know how it is. Plus, you don't know too many people here. But you know me. And I know you. But it's not a date. It's not romantic, I mean. It's just dinner. We get together and eat."

  "Yes, I seem to remember how dinner works." His eye
s were smiling.

  Her arm was almost touching his, and she had an almost overwhelming desire to put her arms around him and draw his head to her shoulder, kiss his hair and tell him it would be okay. Maybe kiss him on the forehead. Or the mouth. Or the neck. Or the--

  Slutty. Very, very slutty, envisioning sex in the dialysis unit.

  "Can I ask you a question?"

  She swallowed. "Mmm-hmm."

  "Why are you so intent on Bryce and Paulie being together?" His voice was low and perfectly pleasant.

  She risked another look at him. Damn. His hair was so frickin' beautiful, black and curly, carelessly tousled. If hair could talk, his would say, That's right. This means everything you're imagining. Run your fingers through me. Do it. You won't be sorry.

  "Colleen?"

  "What? Yes. Um, what was the question?"

  He smiled, and her uterus clenched. "Bryce and Paulie. Why is that a good idea?"

  She cleared her throat and looked at Joe, who was dead to the world. Poor choice of words, actually. Who was sound asleep.

  "You won't say anything to Bryce, will you?" she asked.

  "No."

  And he wouldn't. She could trust him, she knew. No one she'd ever met in her life was as honorable as Lucas Campbell. "Paulie's loved him for years. She's a really great person, Lucas. Decent and kind and good."

  "I'm sure she is."

  "Do you remember her from high school?"

  He shook his head. "Not really. I remember those chicken ads, though."

  "'Thirty-eight ways to a heart attack,'" Colleen said with a smile.

  "Doesn't her father have ties to the Russian Mafia?"

  "That was never proven."

  He raised an eyebrow. "If Paulie's so great, Colleen, why are you fixing her up with my cousin? Why aren't you fixing her up with Connor or Jack Holland or someone with a job and a future?"

  "She doesn't want those guys. She wants Bryce." They were whispering, not wanting to wake poor Joe.

  "And why does she want Bryce? Because he's good-looking?"

  "Well, actually, Lucas--"

  "If--and I repeat, if--you manage to get Bryce to date her, what about what happens next? You know how many women Bryce has slept with?"

  Her face flushed hotter. A lot, she knew, give or take a few.

  "A lot," Lucas said. "He likes the shallow, beautiful type who are only interested in screwing him."

  "I know exactly the type of women Bryce sleeps with," she whispered back, suddenly furious. "And yes, they're generally shallow and beautiful, and no, Paulie isn't. And maybe it's time for Bryce to find someone with more depth and character."

  "You're going to have a big mess on your hands, and your friend is going to get hurt."

  "Right. He might marry someone else when she thought he was in love with her."

  He gave her a narrow-eyed stare. "We're talking about my cousin, who goes through life without having to deal with the consequences of his actions, Colleen. If you want to fight about the past, you'll have to do it alone, because I'm not interested."

  "Oh, so sorry. I didn't mean to talk about something that wasn't on your agenda."

  "You're the one who showed up here, I might point out."

  "And you're the one who swans back into town-- You know what? Forget it. I happen to think Bryce should be with a woman like Paulie. No, she's not some supermodel slut. She's grounded and decent and loyal. And, I might point out to you, Spaniard, I've got a fairly amazing track record when it comes to matchmaking."

  "Bryce is going to break her heart."

  "Funny, how concerned you are about the hearts of women."

  "For God's sake, look at my uncle," Lucas said, his voice low. "Bryce has convinced himself Joe will get better, but he won't. Joe asked me back here so he could see his son settled before he dies. I don't want to have to tell him that Paulie's father had Bryce's body dumped in the lake."

  "How Godfather: Part III. I think the Chicken King is more likely to cut him into pieces and deep-fry him."

  "Bryce needs to grow up. He needs a job, a home, a life."

  "And Paulie could--"

  "Colleen, he's never had a real relationship in his life."

  "Neither has Paulie," she whispered hotly. "And wouldn't it be nice to see first love work out for a change?"

  He ignored that. "Leave him alone. Don't manipulate him into a relationship he's not ready for."

  "But men are simple creatures, Lucas dear, meant to be manipulated into doing what's best for them."

  "Did you manipulate me into doing what was best?" His eyes were hot.

  "No," she hissed. "You're my one failure. Ellen Forbes, on the other hand...she had you down cold."

  His eyes shut off, all that heat and anger instantly muted. "You're wrong about that."

  "Yeah, sure, I'm wrong. You and she are like a Lifetime television movie. Boy from the wrong side of town marries billionaire's daughter. Very romantic."

  "Don't talk about her."

  That hurt--Lucas, defending his ex-wife. "Fine," she muttered. "Either way, you underestimate your cousin. And Paulie, too. And me."

  "Oh, I've never underestimated you, hotshot." He paused. "So you're barreling ahead with this because you're mad that I married Ellen?"

  "No, Spaniard, your irritation is just a happy byproduct. I have good instincts about people, that's all."

  "Use your instincts somewhere else."

  "In fact, you were the only man I've ever been wrong about. You and my dad."

  His jaw turned to iron, but he didn't deny the comparison. Turned his eyes back to Joe.

  "I have to go," she said, standing. Yes. Time to make a regal exit.

  Unfortunately, she tripped on the leg of the chair, landing on Joe, who woke up with a start (and a yelp). Lucas hauled her off his uncle and set her on her feet.

  "Joe, I'm so sorry!" she said. "Are you okay? Did I bruise your kidneys?"

  "Well, they don't work anyway," he said kindly.

  "Any other body parts hurt? Spleen? Liver?"

  "Don't worry. I'm dying as it is."

  She bit her nail, then stopped. "I'm so sorry."

  "It's okay, sweetheart. Most fun I've had in weeks. I love your perfume."

  Lucas didn't add his reassurance, she noted. "Feel better," she said to Joe, leaning over to kiss his cheek.

  "I already do."

  She smiled at him; well, she tried to. Hoped to God, she hadn't hurt the poor guy.

  "I'll call you about dinner," Lucas said as she left the room.

  "The offer has been revoked," she said. "See you soon, Joe."

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  THE AGE OF twenty-two is not generally celebrated as time of deep wisdom and calm, measured acts.

  Almost as soon as she broke up with Lucas, Colleen regretted it.

  But the thing about being right most of the time...it was hard to know what to do when you were wrong. If she'd been, that was because Colleen was kind of on the fence.

  She knew one thing. Everything felt wrong without him.

  At first, she'd just been furious. Life was going to hell on a lightning-speed roller coaster. Dad, Mom, Gail, a baby...and Lucas had lied to her, had played God, deciding what she should and shouldn't know. What did that say? What if he kept other things from her? What else wasn't he telling her? Say they did get married and he got a brain tumor. Would he keep that from her, too? Huh? Would he?

  "Colleen, enough," Connor groaned one night. He was done at the CIA and was working at Hugo's. Colleen was still bartending at the Black Cat, but she'd come over on her dinner break because she wouldn't eat the food at the Cat with a gun to the back of her head. "I can't stand to hear this one more time. You broke up with him. If you want him back, call him. Okay? But I can't listen to you and Mom complaining all the damn day!"

  "Men. You disgust me."

  "Really? Is that why you were making out with that guy the other night?"

  "Oh, please. That was nothing." Co
lleen shifted, guilt squirming in her stomach. The guy in question was some dork from Ithaca and, yes, she'd flirted with him. And kissed him. And then told him that while he was cute and she was positive she'd regret it, she couldn't go out with him (that is, have sex with him). Because that kiss had been totally meh.

  Not like kissing Lucas, when the world seemed to stop, when the world seemed to smile, even, because they were so right together.

  Then again, Lucas hadn't been banging on her door, begging to get back in touch with her. One voice mail. One call to the house. That was it. So they were taking a break. Fine. Maybe it'd get his priorities straight. Maybe he'd miss her.

  Maybe...and this was the thought that caused a cold tremor of fear to shake her heart...maybe he was relieved. She was, after all, his high school sweetheart. He'd said he wasn't ready for marriage. Maybe...maybe like so many other men, her stupid father most certainly included, he wanted to see if there was someone else out there.

  Because he sure didn't try very hard to win her back. She hadn't seen that coming.

  Dad had moved in with Gail the Tail. He hired a divorce attorney and started proceedings, and Mom sobbed for twelve hours straight, and Colleen cried with her as the movers took her father's things away, taking with them the memories of her happy childhood.

  Connor hadn't been as close with their dad as she had, but this had shaken him, too. Not just Mom's distress, but Dad being so...pathetic. A hot young second wife. Another family. And in case that wasn't enough, a convertible.

  But despite that, she couldn't stop loving her father. She was mad, embarrassed, furious...but when she heard his voice on the phone, or even when she saw him, sometimes, just for a second, she'd forget that he was the man who cheated on Mom, and she'd just remember Daddy. The man who taught her to ride a bike and sail a boat, who used to brush her hair when she was little, who read her stories, who let her stay up late and watch scary movies, then sat on her bed when she was afraid to go to sleep.

  The Tail got a cushion-set diamond as big as a human eyeball, despite the fact that Mom and Dad weren't even divorced. Dad had shown her the ring, for the love of God.

  Oh, and they were having a girl.

  Dad invited her over to the new place for dinner to meet his lover/fiancee. "I know you're upset," he said on the phone, and the thinly veiled impatience in his voice chilled her. "But, Colleen, enough. If you're going to come over, and I hope you will, I'd appreciate some civility. Your mother is hysterical crying half the time and screaming the other half, Connor won't speak to me, and I won't put up with a guilt trip in my own home."