Flare, page 20
I pull back slightly and meet her gaze. “Hey. This is where I want to be. Exactly where I want to be.”
“Are you sure? Really sure?”
“Come with me.” I take her hand and lead her away from Callie and Donny so we have a bit of privacy. “What do you think it means when I say I love you? It means I’m here for you. For whatever you need, Rory. I want to be here.”
She leans her head on my shoulder. “There’s nothing you can do here.”
“I can be with you.”
“I know. I love you for it. But—”
“Tell you what. I’ll get you a room at the Carlton. Not just for you but for Callie, your mom, everyone. You can stay here in the city, close to the hospital. I’ll go to your house and pack you a bag if you want. I’ll take care of your dog. I’ll do whatever you need.”
She cries then. Softly into my shoulder. “I didn’t think I had any tears left today.”
I kiss the top of her head. “It’s okay.”
“It’s not okay, Brock. I cried buckets today over a baby that never existed. And now… Now, my father. This is real. This exists. And I wish it didn’t.”
“He’s a strong man. There’s no reason to believe he won’t come out of this.”
“That’s just it. He’s strong. In great physical shape. He eats right, and he gets lots of exercise. He hardly ever drinks. How did this even happen?”
“I don’t know, sweetheart. Life just doesn’t make sense sometimes.”
“Oh, Brock… I’m sorry.”
“For what?”
“For… I don’t know. You’re going through so much right now.”
“Hey. My father is healthy. He’s not in the hospital. It’s okay to think about your own problems, Rory. It’s okay.”
“I don’t want to be selfish. I feel like I’ve already been so selfish.”
“You’re not being selfish. Cry if you need to. Yell if you need to. I’ll take you outside, and you can yell at the universe if you want to. Whatever you need, Rory. I mean it.”
She sighs, choking back a sob. “I just need you, Brock. I just need you.”
Chapter Thirty-Seven
Rory
My tears dry out quickly, and I feel terrible. Terrible that I cried over a nonexistent child and now I don’t have any tears left for my father.
My father, who gets me in a way my mother doesn’t. My father, who truly doesn’t care whether my life mate is a man or a woman.
My father, who taught me how to be strong.
My father, who taught me it’s okay to change directions when things aren’t going as planned.
My father… My rock…
He’ll be okay. He has to be.
I have to concentrate. Pray. Send healing vibes. Stay positive.
Which means I can’t think about the fact that I saw Pat Lamone with Brock when Callie and I came back out here.
I don’t want to ask about it. I want to shove it into a compartment and forget about it until my father is out of the woods.
But I can’t.
“Brock?” I choke out.
“Yeah, sweetheart?”
“What was Pat Lamone doing here?”
“Shit. I was hoping you hadn’t seen him.”
“I was hoping I hadn’t either, but you just confirmed it.”
“He says he’s here to see someone in the hospital, and he parks at the ER because it’s easier.”
“So he doesn’t know about Dad?”
“If he does, he didn’t indicate it. He could be lying, of course.”
“Yeah. He probably is.”
“But Rory, why would he be here if your father’s in the ER?”
“I don’t know. Kick us while we’re down?” I scoff.
He kisses my lips. “I don’t think so. He was here to see someone.”
“Who?” I ask.
“It doesn’t matter who,” Brock says. “You concentrate on your dad. Forget about Pat Lamone. He doesn’t matter.”
Chapter Thirty-Eight
Brock
Rory opens her mouth to answer and then widens her eyes.
I follow her gaze. Jesse has come back into the waiting area, and he’s talking to Donny and Callie.
“Come on.” I lead Rory over to where the others are standing.
“Good, there you are,” Jesse says. “They’ve taken Dad up to the OR. There’s another place in the hospital where we can wait, and it’s more comfortable.”
“All right,” I say. “Let’s go.”
“Thing is… It’s family only,” Jesse says.
“Donny’s family,” Callie says.
“So is Brock,” Rory says.
Oh God.
“I’m sorry,” Jesse says. “There’s already five of us up there, and Mom thinks…”
“You mean you think,” Callie says.
Rory touches Callie’s arm. “Callie, it’s okay. Let’s just go. We can let Donny and Brock know what’s going on.”
“That’s not—”
“Callie,” Rory says, in a voice that sounds like she’s talking to a child. “It’ll be okay. Donny and Brock have a lot on their minds as well.”
“Rory—” I begin.
“No, Brock. It’s okay. Callie and I will be okay. Jesse, Maddie, and our mom are there. We’ll keep you informed.”
My Rory. She will be a great mother. In her way, she already is one.
I kiss Rory on her lips. “If you’re sure.”
“Yeah.” Then she comes to my ear and whispers. “You’ve already seen me break down once today. I don’t want you to see it again.”
“Oh, sweetheart…”
“Please,” she whispers.
“All right. I’ve got you if you need me.”
“I know.”
Donny gives Callie a kiss, and then the three head back.
“Now what?” I say.
“Now we wait. I guess.”
“Or…we could figure out why the hell Pat Lamone is here and who he’s visiting.”
“Brock, you do know that hospital records are confidential.”
“Yeah, I know that. I also know I’ve got a couple of Benjamin Franklins in my pocket.”
Donny laughs. “God… Are we truly becoming our fathers?”
“No. Well, maybe. But apparently our grandfather…”
“What?”
“I’ve been talking to my dad, Don. Evidently our grandfather wasn’t above holding a gun to a person’s head to get what he wanted.”
Donny’s jaw drops. But almost as quickly, he recovers and says, “Now why doesn’t that surprise me?”
“Yeah, why doesn’t it? It surprised the hell out of me.”
“Listen, Brock. I’ve been racking my brain for the past couple of weeks, trying to figure out how the hell all of this fits together.”
“Any conclusions?”
“Only one.”
“Care to share it?”
“Sure. What we have are a bunch of puzzle pieces, and none of them fit together, but they must all be related somehow, right?”
“Maybe. Hell if I know.”
“Anyway, whether they’re related or not, there’s one thing that doesn’t fit. How a fucking rancher in Colorado turned his business into a billion-dollar enterprise.”
“Investments,” I say. “Start-ups probably. I mean, tech was just beginning back then. He probably invested in Apple and Microsoft. Intel and HP.”
“Yeah. We could easily find out by talking to Uncle Bryce. If he’ll talk to us.”
I nod. “Yeah. If.”
“Then you see what I’m saying.”
“Yeah, I see what you’re saying. There’s also our great-grandfather—the one who spawned this half great-uncle from whom Pat Lamone is allegedly descended.”
“Honestly? I think maybe that’s where we start. Great-Grandpa Steel, and then Grandpa Steel. If we can find out where they went wrong, maybe we can figure out the rest from there.”
“But this was years and years ago,” I say. “If there was any dirty money involved, it’s been laundered and then laundered again. It’s squeaky clean by now.”
“True.” Donny rubs his forehead. “All right. We’re here now, so let’s do what you said. Let’s figure out why Lamone is here and who he’s visiting.”
“If he’s even visiting anyone,” I say. “He could’ve been lying.”
“Absolutely. He absolutely could’ve been lying. Let’s go on the assumption, for just a minute, that he’s not. Maybe there is someone here.”
“And if there is someone here…” My mind races. “He told me he always parks here, at the ER, because it’s easier. Which means…he comes here a lot. Or he’s been coming here for a while.”
“And that means… If there is someone that he’s visiting, assuming he’s telling the truth, then it’s a long-term patient.”
I nod. “Which means palliative care or mental health care.”
“So Lamone has someone—a relative possibly—who’s either dying or mentally ill.”
“Right.” I gaze around the ER waiting area. “Let’s go. He went this way.”
Chapter Thirty-Nine
Rory
I’m cold, and then hot, and then cold again—all while feeling numb. It makes no sense, but that’s what I’m feeling.
Callie and I are sitting together on a small love seat across from Jesse, Maddie, and my mother.
“He’ll be okay,” Callie says to me.
“God willing,” I reply.
“I know how close you are to him. We all are, but you and he…”
Good. She stops talking. I really can’t go there right now, or I’m going to explode into tears again. I’ve done that enough for one day. I’m not sure I have any water left in me. In fact… I rise.
“I need something to drink. Do any of you want something?”
Mom shakes her head. “No.”
“Nothing for me,” Jesse says.
“Maybe a Diet Coke.” From Maddie.
“All right. One Diet Coke and a water for me. Callie, come with me.” I pull her out of the chair.
We walk together out of the waiting area.
“I guess we find a vending machine,” Callie says.
“No, we need the cafeteria,” I tell her. “You and I need to talk.”
“Really, Rory? Now?”
“There’s nothing we can do for Dad,” I say. “I wish there were, but we won’t know anything until we know.”
“Well, true.”
“So you and I should talk. Pat Lamone is here.”
Callie stops walking and turns to face me. “What?”
“Yeah, he came in and told Brock something about visiting someone. He and Donny are probably looking into it.”
“I should text Donny.”
“You can if you want. Why don’t you just try to relax a little in the cafeteria for a while?”
“What about Maddie’s Diet Coke?”
“We’ll bring it when we come back. In the meantime, if she gets too thirsty, she’ll get up and find a vending machine.”
“Rory, you’re not acting like yourself.”
“I’m not myself anymore. My father’s lying on some OR table with his chest cut open and his life in the hands of a bunch of doctors who don’t know him and don’t care about him. And I found out today…”
“What?”
“I’m not pregnant, Callie.”
“Is that good news or bad news?”
I sigh. “Honestly? Both. Brock wasn’t ready for a baby, even if I was. But there was never a baby to begin with, so why did we worry?”
“It’s okay to feel a loss,” Callie says.
“What loss, though? I was never pregnant. It’s not like I had a miscarriage.”
We find the cafeteria and enter. The food service area is closed, but self-service is open. I grab a bottle of water from the refrigerator unit and then a bottle of Diet Coke for Maddie.
“Do you feel like eating anything?” Callie asks.
“Not even slightly.”
“Neither do I, but we should. It will help the sick feeling.”
“Will it though?” I ask.
“One way to find out.” Callie walks up to one of the self-service shelves and grabs a couple of granola bars. “What do you want?”
“That’s a loaded question, Cal.”
“All right, let me bring it into context. What do you want from the shelf?”
I walk over next to her, grab a package of cupcakes. “This, I guess.”
“Sugar high. Good call.”
Callie grabs a Diet Coke for herself as well, and we pay for the items and find a quiet table. I open my package of cupcakes—the chocolate kind with squiggly white icing on top—and take a bite. Chocolate sawdust. Yum.
“Who do you think Lamone is here to see?” Callie asks.
“Hell if I know. At this point, Cal, I don’t give a shit about him anymore. Let him try to publish my pictures. I don’t give a flying fuck.”
“Rory, you don’t mean that.”
“Don’t I? With Dad up in the OR with his heart in some stranger’s hands, do naked photos of me really even matter?”
“Change of trajectory,” Callie says, “because we need to stay positive. Tell me something good. Tell me something that makes you happy. Anything.”
“Brock. Brock makes me happy. Brock loves me and I love him.”
Callie smiles. “Donny told me.”
“You’re not surprised?”
“A little, to be sure, but mostly just happy for you. Very happy for you.”
“Thanks, Cal. I know there’s not much to laugh about, but you know what’s funny?”
“What?”
“You and I, the Pike sisters. We caught two of the Rake-a-teers.”
Callie giggles. “That is something, isn’t it?”
“Men who we didn’t think would ever settle down.”
“Wait… Are you saying…?”
“We’re going to move in together. Brock and I.”
“Oh my God! This is amazing, Rory.”
“It is kind of cool.”
I smile at my sister. She smiles back. And they’re good smiles, radiant smiles, but they’re only masks. Underneath the smiles, though we’re both happy to be in love, we’re both worried about Dad.
And everything else.
“Compartmentalizing,” Callie says.
“What?”
“I’m compartmentalizing. Just Dad right now, Rory. Let’s just focus on Dad right now. Trying to deal with everything else… It’s just too much.”
I nod, take another bite of my dry cupcake. Then I twist open the cap on my water and take a drink, washing down the chocolate sawdust.
Compartmentalizing.
Callie’s good. She has an analytical mind, and she can file things away in mental folders and leave them for another time.
Good. Good for her.
The only problem is that I can’t do it.
I have an emotional mind, and an emotional mind doesn’t file things away. An emotional mind feels. All the feels. All at once.
“Okay?” Callie says.
I nod again. “Okay,” I lie.
Chapter Forty
Brock
“What do you think?” Donny says, as we gaze at the reception desk. “You think they like blond hair or dark hair?”
“How the heck should I know? At least it’s not a dude.”
“Yeah, that would complicate things.”
Two women sit at reception. Older women, probably in their forties or fifties. One has some graying at her light-brown temples, and the other has her hair pulled back in a dirty-blond bun.
“I’m not sure either of us are going to have sway,” I say.
“We’ve got to try.”
“Let’s go together. We’ll turn on as much charm as we can and hope that one of them bites.”
Donny and I advance to the reception station, both turning on our most dazzling smiles.
Gray Temples looks up, returns my smile—or Donny’s smile. I can’t tell which one. “May I help you gentlemen?”
“Yes, you can,” Donny says. “A friend of ours is here visiting someone, and we’d like to pay our respects as well.”
“Of course. What is the name of the patient?”
“Lamone,” Donny says.
Gray Temples taps on her computer. “I don’t see a Lamone… Crap. My computer froze up. Genevieve, can you check?”
“Sure. What was the name again?” Blond Bun—Genevieve, apparently—lifts her eyebrows at me.
I smile, giving her a look at my pearly whites and jawline.
No reaction.
Great.
“Lamone,” I say, making my voice as low and sexy as I can muster.
In fact, I sound kind of creepy.
“Sure. Let me take a look.” Genevieve taps.
“What’s your name?” Donny asks Gray Temples.
“Mercy. What’s yours?”
I freeze. Should we tell them who we are?
“Steel,” Donny says. “Donovan Steel.”
I guess we can tell them who we are.
“Donny Steel? Of the Steels?” Mercy gushes.
“Yes, that’s me. This is my cousin Brock Steel.”
I switch my attention from Genevieve to Mercy. “It’s lovely to meet you, Mercy.”
“The pleasure is mine. Genevieve, did you find the patient?”
“I’m sorry, but there’s no patient with the last name of Lamone at the hospital.”
“Oh my,” Donny says. “We just assumed that was the last name. It’s the last name of our friend. Pat Lamone. He told us he was going to be here today to visit his sick relative, and we wanted to be here to show him support.”
“How nice of you,” Mercy says. “Genevieve, isn’t that nice?”
“Yeah. Nice.” Genevieve doesn’t crack a smile.
So… Mercy it is.
“Now what are we going to do?” I say. “We promised him we’d be here.”
Genevieve meets my gaze with cold eyes. “Why don’t you text him? He’ll tell you what room it is.”
