“Told you.” Logan tapped the barstool next to him. “You gonna sit? Dan’s coming, too.”
“I’m not sure.” Andrew wavered, leaning forward on the bar. Was that a twinge of nausea he felt? Just the thought of vomiting in the middle of his favorite bar, in front of his friends and the bartenders he knew, was enough to make him want to turn around and walk out.
“You okay?” Logan asked.
“I don’t know. I think so. I feel okay, but I’m not sure how long that will last. I almost didn’t come, but I had to get away from my mom and sisters.”
His friend regarded him for a moment. He tapped the bar and called out to the bartender. “Can I get a water for Andrew? He’s driving tonight.” None of the employees knew about his diagnosis, and Andrew was grateful to Logan for keeping it that way.
“Let’s sit over there.” Logan nodded to a cluster of couches and chairs near the back of the room, and near the restrooms. “You can head out whenever you want.”
Andrew nodded. “Okay. Thanks.”
Dan, a friend Andrew had met during his first year of law school, soon joined them. Andrew’s brief anxiety over getting sick passed as they fell into their usual conversation about work and sports. They were in a fantasy football league with several other guys, and Dan’s team had smoked them all the past weekend.
“Didn’t your star wide receiver go out with an injury on Monday night?” Dan asked Logan.
“I don’t want to talk about it,” Logan grumbled.
“My team isn’t doing any better,” Andrew said. “I’m just glad this league was only fifty bucks. I joined a high-stakes game with my brother-in-law and his buddies last year, and the winner got five grand. I was pissed off the entire season, knowing how much money I was missing out on with my shitty team.”
“Didn’t your sister play in that one, too?” Dan asked.
“Yeah, both Valerie and Jeni. It’s impressive how much they know about football.”
Logan perked up. “There’s a lot that’s impressive about Jeni.”
“Don’t you need another beer?” Andrew asked.
Logan stood, a shit-eating grin on his face. “As a matter of fact, I do.”
As Logan walked toward the bar across the room, Dan shook his head. “That guy’s just asking for an ass kicking, isn’t he?”
Andrew frowned. “I don’t know what’s gotten into him. I introduced the two of them a few months ago when Jeni moved to town, and they didn’t seem to like each other at first. They’ve sort of become friends, and lately he’s made several comments like that. I try not to let it get to me because I know he’s all talk and that he’s a good guy. It’s never really bothered me when he said things like that about other women, but when it’s my sister…”
“I don’t have a sister, but if I did, I wouldn’t want Logan to even look in her direction.”
Andrew didn’t respond and took a long drink of water.
“How’s it going at the DA’s office?” Dan asked, taking the hint and changing the subject.
“It’s great. They’ve assigned me to a new domestic violence case, and right now I’m helping with the preliminary legal research and paperwork. I’m hoping it moves through the court proceedings before we graduate, so I can experience the entire process and see how it all plays out.”
“I can’t believe you landed that internship. It’s competitive.”
“I can’t either,” Andrew said. Though he had worked his ass off on his application and, luckily, had really hit it off with the attorney he’d interviewed with. He hoped to secure a position at the District Attorney’s office after he graduated, but even if they didn’t have an open spot, the networking opportunities the internship created would no doubt get him a nice offer elsewhere.
It was a bittersweet feeling, to be succeeding in his chosen career path. On one hand, there was nothing he’d rather be doing, and it felt good to know he’d spend his last year of law school training under some of the best prosecutors in the state. But with every good thing that happened, his mind conjured up an image of his father and the look of disappointment on his face when Andrew had told him he wouldn’t follow in his footsteps to manage the family farm.
His dad had put up a good fight, to be sure. Andrew had actually thought that his dad would have made a good attorney, but he didn’t dare say that. His dad had offered strong arguments about family values and carrying on the farming legacy that was three generations strong, but Andrew wasn’t swayed.
Things had never been the same.
“Didn’t you shadow a criminal defense attorney last year?” Dan asked, bringing Andrew back from his musings.
“Yeah, I wanted to see both sides of the coin.”
“Isn’t that sort of frowned upon?”
Andrew shrugged. “It was on my resume, and they asked about it during my interview. I explained that I thought the entire criminal justice system was worth learning about, and that I thought I’d be a better attorney if I knew how both sides worked. I also wanted to make sure I was making the right decision, pursuing a career down the path of prosecution. I think they appreciated my honesty.”
“Probably so,” Dan said. “Most people just spout shit they think the boss wants to hear.”
“I can do that, too,” Andrew said with a grin. “Gotta know when to do which.”
“Nah, that’s why I’m doing patent law,” Dan said. “Cut-and-dry, no ass-kissing necessary.”
“Sure. Good luck with that.” Andrew clapped him on the shoulder good-naturedly. “While you’re focused on intellectual property, I’ll be getting criminals off the streets.”
Dan took a swig of beer and leaned back on the couch, used to Andrew’s digs on his choice of specialty by now. “I’ll be helping people protect their dreams.”
Andrew tipped his glass in Dan’s direction. “I’ll give you that. It might be boring as shit, but that’s the one thing that would make it worthwhile.”
“Speaking of boring, I can’t believe I let you talk me into taking Oil and Gas Law this semester. Professor Shaw talks so slowly, I swear I could listen to him at triple speed and still understand him.”
Andrew groaned. “I haven’t forgiven myself, if that helps. I figured in this part of the country it would be a good thing to know.”
Logan returned with an even bigger smile on his face than when he’d left. He set a full glass of amber liquid on the table and slammed his other palm down. “Gentleman, I just got myself a date with a ginger.” He sat back and lifted his hand to reveal a square napkin displaying flowy, feminine handwriting: Lauren—555-1122.
Andrew frowned and leaned closer. “A ginger? You mean a redhead?”
“Yup.”
“Her name is Lauren?”
Logan took a drink. “That’s what she said.”
“Point her out to me,” Andrew demanded.
Logan picked up on his tone, and his eyes narrowed. He didn’t argue, though, and nodded his head to a few high-top tables on the right side of the bar. “There, with the cute Asian girl. She’s the one I went over for, but somehow I ended up with the redhead’s number.” He shrugged. “I’m not complaining. They’re both hot. Friendly, too.”
Andrew’s eyes found her immediately. From this far across the room she almost appeared to be a brunette, but if he was closer he would see shades of red. “That’s my pharmacist.”
“Nice. I like smart women. Does she work at the drugstore by your apartment?”
“No.” Andrew snatched the white scrap of paper from the table. “You can’t call her.”
Dan raised his eyebrows in surprise.
Logan sat up straight. “Why the hell not?”
“Because it would be weird.”
Logan’s forehead wrinkled. “How would it be weird? She know about your STD’s, or something?”
Andrew ignored that. It seemed Logan really was looking to get his ass kicked. “She’s some sort of oncology specialist. She works with Dr. Patel.” Wait, had she said she wouldn’t be with Dr. Patel anymore? Andrew shook the thought away. Irrelevant.
Logan fell silent, and Dan looked away.
“But—”
“I just don’t like it, okay? I could see her when I go in for chemo, and I don’t want to be wondering if you took her out the night before, or if you’ve kissed her.”
Logan appeared dumbfounded.
“There are fifty other women in here who would be happy to let you buy them dinner. Pick any of them. Just…not that one. Okay?” Andrew stared at his friend, determined not to back down.
Something passed between them, and Logan’s jaw tightened in frustration, but he sighed in surrender.
“Fine. But you owe me.”
Andrew nodded. “I owe you.”
He had a feeling she’d be worth whatever he had to pay.
…
Three days later, Andrew found himself in Professor Shaw’s class, completely unable to focus. The aging professor never took a single step out from behind the podium and was every inch the stereotypical law professor in his pleated khakis and tweed jacket. His bushy white eyebrows even appeared to be trying to escape, pointing in several directions. Today he lectured on mineral rights, and the dry subject combined with his sluggish, monotone voice was too much to bear. Andrew would buy Dan’s drinks the next time they hung out. He wanted to kick his own ass for choosing this elective.
He surreptitiously reached for his phone. Without really thinking about it, he pulled up the contact he’d created with Lauren’s phone number. He shouldn’t have saved the napkin at all, much less programmed her number in.
But what if he had some medical emergency and couldn’t get through to Dr. Patel’s office? It might come in handy to have it.
In case of emergency.
The number had an unfamiliar area code. Where was she from? How long had she lived here? Andrew had his number changed from Nebraska to Kansas City within weeks of moving. It had probably been a petty way to send a message to his father, who, at the time, was still trying to convince Andrew he had a responsibility to the family farm.
Andrew sort of thought he had a responsibility to society at large and didn’t see why doing that meant he didn’t love his family. After all, it had been the injustice done to Jeni all those years ago that had sparked his interest in law in the first place.
Why couldn’t Rhonda take over the farm? Why did Andrew have to be the one, just because he was the only son? Rhonda already did the accounting work for their dad—she might as well learn the ropes of everything else while she was at it.
His phone vibrated, and for a second his heart stuttered at Lauren’s name on the screen. But then he realized she didn’t have his number, and he’d just been looking at her contact. A banner announcing a new message was on display at the top of the screen.
Dan: I’m dying a slow death.
Andrew tried to stifle his snicker and peered behind him at the back row. Dan had snuck in late, and apparently hadn’t wanted to join Andrew in their usual spot in the third row. Andrew was a good student and tried hard to attend every class, sit close to the front, and participate when appropriate.
For this class, though, he might need to move to the back for the rest of the semester.
“Something funny, Mr. Bishop?”
Andrew straightened and dropped the smile, tucking his phone underneath his thigh. “No, sir.”
Professor Shaw’s lips thinned in a disapproving manner, but he moved on. Andrew studied the clock on the wall and tried his best to stay awake.
Only forty-five minutes to go.
…
The following week, freedom was finally within reach.
“I think that’s everything.” Andrew reached above his head to shut the back hatch of his mom’s Suburban. “I can’t believe you’re still driving this beast.”
His mom and sisters stood in the grass beside the driveway. Rhonda approached him first.
“You’ll call if you need something, right?”
“Sure,” he said with a wink.
She pursed her lips but didn’t argue, and turned around to say goodbye to Jeni.
Valerie came up next, wrapping her arms around him. “I’m sorry we can’t stay longer,” she said, her brow furrowed in concern.
“Val, you’ve got two kids who have been missing you these last few weeks. Even with his parents helping, I’m sure David’s ready for you to come home.”
“David’s fine,” Valerie said. “My children are angels.”
Andrew snorted. “I love my niece and nephew, but angel is not the word I’d use to describe Alva. She’s a terror.”
“I’m telling her you said that.”
“Don’t you dare. I’m her favorite uncle.”
“You’re her only uncle.”
“Doesn’t matter. I won’t have her knowing that she scares the living daylights out of me. I have to keep up the appearance I’m the one in control.”
Valerie cocked her head to the side. “I’ll think about it.”
“I have cancer,” he said.
Valerie narrowed her eyes. “Fine. But that’s the last time you get to use that on me. I love you, little brother.”
“Love you, too.”
The sound of sniffling alerted Andrew of his mom’s approach. Valerie gave him a look that said good luck and stepped aside.
“Mom…” he began, pulling her close. Her head came to his collarbone.
“Do you”—she sniffed—“want me to stay? I can send Valerie and Rhonda back with the car and rent another one to drive home when you don’t need me anymore.”
He winced above her head. “No, Mom. I’m fine. Really. You’ve seen for yourself, it’s not that bad.”
“But the doctor said it gets worse as you go.”
“I’ve got a good support system going here. Jeni, Logan, and Dan…and Dr. Patel is the best there is. I live close to the cancer center. It’s been great having you here, but you’re not putting your whole life on hold for months while I get chemo. Dad needs you back at home. You know he can’t cook worth a damn.”
She nodded into his shirt. “That’s the truth.” She pulled back a little and looked up. “I’ve kept him in the loop while we’ve been here. He loves you, you know.”
Andrew blinked. “I know that.” His voice was a little sharper than he intended.
She noticed. “He’s just…having a hard time with this.”
“He’s having a hard time with this?” What about me?
His mom gave him that look, the one where her eyes went all soft and her lips turned down at the corners. It was the same look she’d given him as a kid, when he hurt himself playing too hard and needed tending to. “Be patient with him. He’s not good with emotions, and he’s even worse when he’s scared. I’m afraid he’s dealing with both, and his default response is to shut down.”
“He’s kept me at arm’s length for the past eight years. We really gonna pretend it’s about the cancer?”
“Andrew,” Jeni chided from nearby.
“I’m not getting into that right now,” his mother said with a sigh. “I just want you to know that he’s thinking about you, and he cares about what you’re going through.”
He has a funny way of showing it. His dad hadn’t called him once since the diagnosis.
“Okay, Mom,” he said. His mother had enough to worry about, and he hugged her once more. “Thanks for being here. Have a safe drive back.”
He and Jeni stood by and watched the women climb into the car and drive away. When the SUV was out of sight, Andrew turned to his twin. “How does it feel to have your house back?”
“I was just thinking I’
d open a beer to celebrate. Want one?”
“Nah, I think I’ll head home. Let you enjoy the peace and quiet.”
“Feeling okay?”
“Yeah, I have an exam tomorrow and I should study. See you Friday for chemo?”
“I’ll be there.”
He walked toward his car parked on the street, and Jeni called out after him. “You realize that if anything goes even the tiniest bit wrong, they’ll be back?”
“I know.”
“Just take care of yourself, okay? And let me help when you need it. Do us both a favor, get through your chemo without any problems, and we’ll be home free.”
Realistically, he knew there were many parts of this journey that were out of his control. Still, he gave Jeni a firm salute and got into his truck.
Get through chemo without any problems.
That was exactly what he intended to do.
Chapter Five
“Has anyone seen my stethoscope?”
Lauren kept her eyes on her computer screen. “It’s wrapped around the arm of your chair.”
“How the—” Emma twisted around and the metal head of the device clinked against her seat as she unwound it. “Thanks. Hey, did that guy ever call you?”
“Nope.”
Emma huffed out a breath. “I can’t believe that.”
“I can. He was clearly more interested in you, but you kept forcing me on him. Poor guy didn’t know what to do.”
Emma blinked. “Maybe he’s been busy.”
“It’s been two weeks, Em. Let it go.”
“Not a chance. We’re gonna find you a guy.”
“We?”
“Yes, we,” came Kiara’s voice. “Just because you two ditched me that night doesn’t mean I’m not part of this.”
“We didn’t ditch you,” Emma said in an exasperated tone. “You had plans with your boyfriend.”
“Fiancé,” Kiara corrected with a smile. She’d had special plans that night, indeed.
“Don’t rub it in,” Emma grumbled.
“If you want your own fiancé that bad, you can’t keep avoiding guys who want to talk to you,” Lauren said, leaning back in her chair. “I guarantee if you’d offered your number instead of mine, that guy from the bar would’ve been blowing up your phone.”
Perfect Distraction Page 5