Текст книги "Forever Loved"

Автор книги: Deanna Roy

сообщить о нарушении

Текущая страница: 10 (всего у книги 15 страниц)

22: Corabelle

Gavin looked like hell when he poked his head in the door. He faked a smile, but I could still spot his moods, the real ones, not the facade he put on.

Mom had given up on knitting the galaxy-sized blanket and taken up a book instead. Dad was watching the TV on silent, an old Western he probably knew by heart anyway. They looked up when Gavin came in, and Dad may have tensed up, but they greeted him congenially.

“How did today go?” Gavin dragged his chair closer to the bed.

“Good. I walked to the bathroom and back, so I got free of the pee pipe again.”

“That’s good.”

“I won’t go wandering this time.”

“Also good.”

I bit my lip, wondering what else I could say with my parents so close. I squinted at my father’s watch. Just after five. They could be here for hours still.

“Can you eat regular things yet? Could I get you something?” Gavin enclosed one of my hands in his.

“I got a lovely colorless broth for lunch. So yeah, bring me an entire pepperoni pizza, extra cheese, a burger from Dan’s, and a hot-fudge sundae.”

His grin this time seemed genuine. “I’d totally do that, for you.”

“And hold my hair back when I puked it all back up?” I touched my head where the tangled knot still sat, squat and frizzy. It hadn’t been washed in days. I was beyond feeling humiliated at this point.

“Just like when you were pregnant.”

My dad’s eyes flitted over to us at that, and I sensed my mom’s attention on her book had been diverted. I wondered what they would think if they knew about Gavin’s vasectomy. Maybe we could avoid ever telling them. If it couldn’t be reversed, we could just let them assume the infertility was my problem.

I picked up my cell phone from the side table and tapped out, “How do we lose the ’rents?”

He looked panicked when his phone beeped, a reaction that seemed totally out of proportion to the situation. When he ignored it, I held mine up. He still didn’t get it, so I tapped out, in front of him, “HELLO!” and pressed “send” with exaggerated motion.

He nodded and took his phone out, smiling when he saw the message. “Fire alarm?” he typed.

“Too many casualties.”

He looked thoughtful, then frantically tapped in, “Dress in drag and do the hula?”

I laughed out loud, snaring my parents’ attention. We had seen The Lion King in kindergarten together, and I had been traumatized by Scar. But later we reenacted the “Can You Feel the Love Tonight” scene, starting a long tradition of reliving favorite movie moments. Even when we were teenagers, I would still randomly knock him over and pin him like the two cubs had.

This was a safe enough topic. “I would love to see that movie right now,” I said aloud.

“We could put it in your laptop,” Gavin said.

“The TVs have DVD players.” I pointed at the screen.

“What movie is that?” Mom asked.

Bingo.

“Lion King.”

“Oh yes, that always was one of your favorites. Once you got over Scar.” Mom looked over the reading glasses perched on her nose.

“You think you guys could run down to the hospital rental room and see if they have it?”

“They have such a thing here?” my dad asked.

“Yes, the volunteers who came by with the book cart told us.” Mom held up her copy of Smart Mouth Waitress. “Very nice ladies.”

“Please?” I asked.

“I wouldn’t mind seeing what else they had,” my dad said.

They were going to do it.

Mom set her book down. “Any second choices in case no Lion King?”

“Oh, just pick something.” I glanced over at Gavin to see if he was pleased our ploy had worked, but his jaw was ticking. Something big was going on. I immediately felt my chest tighten and the cough come on. I needed to hold it in until my parents left, or they might not go. I breathed in and out with care, trying to relax.

Mom stood up from the sofa and straightened her skirt. “We’ll be right back.”

I wanted to say, “No hurry,” but I was afraid to talk, or the coughing might start. I just nodded.

As soon as they were out the door, I exhaled in a big rush, scrambling for the box of heavy tissues that the nurses had placed there after reattaching the paper towel dispenser. Each expulsion brought up more goo. I so wanted this to stop, especially the suction treatments.

The cough was deep and rattly, making my breathing sound like a car with a loose muffler. Gavin stood up, rubbing my back until it all calmed.

“What did the doctor say?”

“I’ll get another X-ray tomorrow, but he was pleased.”

“Are you blowing balls again?” His eyes crinkled at the corners.

I smacked his knee. “You wish.” A stray black hair fell over my eye, and I blew it out of the way, almost regretting it, as the cough threatened again. “I don’t think I’ve graduated to the ball test again yet.”

“But you seem better.” He seemed stuck on this point.

“You looking to resume our little activity the other night?” I had to admit, I did miss that. If I didn’t think I’d end up flinging phlegm, I’d get him started in a heartbeat. But right now, I had to get better.

He sat back in the chair, his elbows on his knees, hands clasped together. I knew that pose too. He had something to say, something hard. I swallowed, refusing to let my chest tense up. “What is it, Gavin? What’s getting to you?”

He sighed, a long low breath that made tears spring to my eyes. This was bad, really bad.

“I got a call a couple days ago. Friday.”

“Right. The day you disappeared. The…prostitute.”

“I met with her today.”

Panic zinged through me, my heart thudding against the cotton gown. “You said she was dragging you into her family business. It’s still going on?”

“Yes. I’m going to have to deal with it.” He still wouldn’t look up.

“Can you tell me what it is?”

“I’m afraid to. You’re still so fragile. I don’t want to upset you.”

“I’m already upset. Let’s just get through it.”

He tried to hold my eyes, but eventually dropped his gaze to my hands. “It’s a girl I used to see in Mexico. She – she was there from the beginning. She worked in a little store I went to after my surgery when I was in pain and didn’t know what to do.”

“In a store? I thought she was a prostitute.”

“I saw her again, on a street corner, later. She needed the money.”

“That was a long time ago.”

He looked up again. “Yes. Yes it was.” His voice caught. “But she’s here right now.”

“In San Diego?”

“Yes. She wants me to do a test, and I’m going to have to do it.”

“A test? For what?” The fear reached a zenith, and I didn’t think my chest could contain the intense thrumming of my heart anymore.

“For her son.”

I washed cold. If she wanted a test with her son and with Gavin, then she – I couldn’t even let my mind think it. I had to shut it off.

“See, this is too much. Let me kill the lights. You need rest.”

“No. Let’s get this out. Is he yours?”

“I don’t think so. Her family asked me to go away, said she was using me to save her, get her to the US. I don’t know. I just want to do the test and get it over.”

I wanted to throw up, to cry. And I really, really wanted to hold my breath, to disappear into the black. But that had been a disaster last time. I had to stop it. I had to face things without escaping. The held-back tears flowed into my throat, making it sticky and thick. I barely got out my next question. “How old is he?”

His eyes went back to the floor. “He’s three. Coming up on four. In February.”

Oh, God. I counted back the months. He would have to have been conceived in May, within weeks of Finn’s funeral.

I couldn’t take it. I threw back the covers and turned my legs to the side to stand up.

“No, don’t get up. Please, go back to bed. You’re not ready.” Gavin stood over me, hands on my shoulders.

“Don’t touch me. Don’t ever touch me.” I didn’t intend to say it, or to growl, but it just came, like an involuntary response.

“I know it looks bad. It was bad. Shit.” He dropped back in his chair. “If you want me to leave right now, I will. But if it turns out okay—”

I leaned over the side rail, hanging on, grateful for the support. Of all the things that I could have imagined, Gavin having a child with another woman was the biggest nightmare. The worst. Irrevocable. Unfixable. Life-altering.

How could he make such a mistake? How could he have a son with some other woman and take away the chance to ever have one with me?

I pressed a hand against my throat, willing the cough away, trying to breathe. I wanted to scream, and if we had been anywhere else, I might have. Instead I clutched the rail as though I were back out at sea, and this was the lifeline that would take me to some other shore.

Gavin didn’t move near me, didn’t try to touch me again. He just waited, head down. I tried to put myself in his position. Angry. Confused. He had to have so many questions. Now that the initial shock was wearing off, I had them too. I sat back on the bed, still holding the rail. “I thought you said you had the surgery checked. That it worked.”

“Nobody told me how long it took. It’s not immediate.” His skin was ashen, and his eyes so haunted. My heart broke for him then. He thought I would walk away. And I wanted to, but I wouldn’t. I’d be here. I’d see him through this.

I shifted back on the bed and tucked my legs beneath the sheets again. This was it. I had to get well. I needed out of this hospital, back in the real world. I wanted to help him through this.

“How trustworthy is this woman?” My voice came out stronger than I thought it would.

His hands were clasped together so tight that his knuckles were white. “I have no idea. I don’t really know her much at all.”

That was good. I began to breathe easier. So he had done the surgery, felt indebted to this woman for helping him. They’d ended up together. I just had to accept these things. She meant nothing to him. He only wanted to clear his name. “Well, then let’s get the test done and send her packing.”

“I just need to figure out where to go. There’s drugstore tests but I don’t trust them.”

“We’re right here in a hospital.”

He glanced at the call button. “You want to ask one of the nurses?”

“No, I have a better idea. We’ll talk to Tina, let her ask.”

“You mean that girl with the stockings?”

“Yes. She came by earlier.”

His face relaxed into relief. “Okay, ask her. Then we can get this done.”

Gavin needed someone to push him through this. I might feel blindsided, but he had to be completely knocked backwards. Everyone else seemed to be telling him this woman was manipulating him, but he couldn’t see it. We’d have to show him the way.

“You need to get your life back to normal,” I said. “Go home. Shower. Study. Go to work. Talk to your friends.”

He shook his head. “My life is right here.”

“No, this is a strange place, these small rooms, this caustic atmosphere with my parents. You need to be out, to think clearly, to assess what’s going on.” I hesitated. “Is she trying to see you? Is she pushing this boy on you?”

He shook his head. “No. My friend Mario scared the crap out of her. I’m just supposed to call her when we have a place to do the test.”

I breathed a little easier. “Good.” I held out my hand to him, and when he took it, I pulled him forward to sit on the bed. “It’s going to be okay,” I told him. “Just another bump in the road.”

He gathered me against him, and as my head lay against his chest, his body shuddered. I knew exactly how hard this moment had been for him. I had felt the same walking down to the beach when I knew I had to tell him about my past, what I had done when I was pregnant.

We would clear this up, together, and move forward. I wouldn’t think of any other possibility. This boy was not his. She was an opportunist and a liar. I pictured her in a hot-pink halter and slinky miniskirt, used up, pathetic, and looking for a chump who would believe her story. I would not let her use Gavin. When this test was done, I’d boot her out of his life, whether I was sick or not.

23: Gavin

When I rolled up to my apartment later that night, Corabelle tucked away at the hospital watching The Lion King with her parents, I was surprised to see Mario sitting on the hood of his ’72 Mustang.

He waited for me to kill the Harley, still in his shirt from Bud’s. “So, how’d she take it?”

“Corabelle?”

“You got another honey to break the news to?”

He was making me crabby already. I turned up the sidewalk.

“Dude, chill. I’m just asking how she took it.”

I stopped. He’d proved a better friend than I expected with everything going on. “Not great at first, but she came around.”

The wind howled around us, and he stuck his hands in his pockets. “That’s good.”

“So you came here to ask me that? I’m working tomorrow.”

“No, I’m here to get you out, stop moping, drink a beer.”

“No way. Corabelle’s in the hospital. Rosa’s out there somewhere with that kid.”

Mario turned me around on the sidewalk. “All the more reason to get out.”

“I should study. I’m behind.”

“Later. You’re due a night out. You’re just going to sit in that apartment and stew.”

He was right about that.

“I’ll cover the first round. Unless you order some bullshit highbrow import.”

I laughed. “Right. I’m all highbrow.” Hell, it felt good to laugh about something, to blow everything off. Corabelle had been right. I needed some normal life.

He opened his door. “Get your ass in here. We’ll toast to your fancy-ass new job title. Then tell me more about this firebrand hooker you dragged stateside.”

I sank into the half-collapsing springs of the passenger seat. “I’m hoping I never have to see her again after this test.”

He turned the ignition and the Mustang rumbled. Damn, I missed having a car. I could have used the extra money from my promotion for that, but it was fine to use it on helping Corabelle.

Or else it would go to child support.

Mario cranked up Nine Inch Nails at ear-splitting decibels, which went a long way to redirecting my attention. He rolled down the windows despite the chill, laughing when mine got stuck halfway and wouldn’t budge.

“It’s always the mechanics who have shit for cars,” I shouted over the music.

Mario banged the steering wheel in time with the cymbal smash. “We’re going to get fucked up!”

He pulled into a space in front of our usual pool hall. My anxiety ratcheted up. All the hookers I used to frequent knew this place, and I’d run into one or the other more than a few times. One in particular, Lorali, had made quite a show of stripping half-naked in the corner, and at this point in my life, I lived in fear of her repeating the performance.

“Maybe we should pick another place,” I said.

“Don’t be a pussy,” Mario said. “I know what you’re thinking, but I can handle all the women.”

“You haven’t had a piece in months, Romeo.” I flung my door open.

He came around the car and snared me with an elbow around my neck. “It’s no good to be wingman to a hooker lover. I’m too poor.”

I shoved him aside to get loose, laughing. “You can’t even pay to get laid.”

“I’m promoted. I’ve got money now.”

We crossed through a cloud of smokers and entered the half-empty hall. “Probably not going to be too many chicks on a Monday,” he said, heading for the bar.

I was happy to see it so empty. Fewer people meant fewer chances for a disaster.

I headed for the cue racks to find a stick that wasn’t too thrashed. A number of the serious players were sitting around, league teams and gamblers alike. There weren’t a lot of women, another good sign that the night would go easy for me.

Mario returned with the beer as I shoved quarters in the machine to release the balls. The crack of a cue was familiar and calming. Even the smell of chalk and beer helped settle out the day.

I racked up for the first play and took a long pull on the bottle as Mario started working the table. He’d clear a good number before his first fail, if he was having a decent night. I half watched him, half listened to the room, when a laugh made the hackles on my neck stand up.

I wasn’t especially good at picking out voices, but that particular little-girl giggle was pretty damn familiar. I circled the table. “We’ve got to get out of here,” I told Mario.

“What are you talking about? I’m going to kick your ass here. I’ve nearly cleared the stripes.”

“Fine. Kick it. Candy’s here and I’m not dealing with her tonight.”

“Was that the one who got nekkid?”

“No, that was Lorali.”

“I can’t keep up with your hookers.” He leaned back over to take a shot.

I nudged his shoulder. “Seriously, Mario. I’m not up for it.”

“I’ll handle her.” He braced his fingers on the table and sent the cue ball into no-man’s-land, barely grazing the thirteen. “Well, shit.” He stood up. “Now I’m off.”

Candy weaved through the tables but didn’t look our way. I turned my back to her. “Mario, I really don’t need this shit. She wrote me a week ago. Corabelle found her texts. It was a brutal scene.”

He downed a swig of beer. “So block her.” He reached for his wallet and dropped it on the ledge of the table. “Or give her to me. She’ll get hot for my dollars.”

“That’s messed up,” I said. I didn’t have a claim on any of those women, but imagining Mario with the same girls I’d been with was a damn freak show.

“Yeah. It is, actually.” He stuck the wallet back in his pocket. “But she’s coming over here anyway.”

“Shit.”

“Gavin? Is that you?” She came up beside the table, dressed in a vivid orange tank that hugged her breasts like a wet T-shirt. A short frayed denim skirt barely skimmed her thighs. She looked a lot like a sexed-up college girl, her hair curled away from her face, other than the lines around her eyes.

“Forget him,” Mario said. “Come over here and talk to me.”

Great. Now she’d never leave.

“You’re cute and all,” Candy said. “But Gavin owes me some texts.”

“You into sexting?” Mario leaned on the pool table, separating Candy from me.

She stepped around him. “How come you never wrote me back? I thought you cared a little.”

I didn’t even want to look at her, the mega-lashes, bright lips, and nipples poking out a mile. “I think it’s great you’re out on your own,” I said. “I’m just seeing somebody now.”

“Oh, that girl isn’t going to be enough for you,” Candy said, pushing up against me. “You’ll want a little something on the side.”

I glanced over at Mario, who shrugged.

I grasped Candy’s arms as gently as I could and set her aside. “You’ve been great, but I’m done.”

Her face took on a tragic expression. “You can’t leave me now! I have to find my own jobs, and half the men didn’t care if it was me or some other bimbo that Jerry set them up with. I’m way, way down.” She tried to come close. “I even offered you a freebie.”

“I’ll take it,” Mario said.

Candy flashed into rage. “You’re a little putz,” she said.

He backed away, hands in the air. “Sorry!”

“I’m sure there are lots of prospects here,” I said. “I’m going to have to go.” From the corner of my eye, I could see a couple dudes watching our little exchange with their cue sticks standing on end like swords. “See, those guys over there seem awfully interested.”

She turned to look. “Uggh. Whatever. They think I’m an easy sorority girl.”

“Really?” Mario choked on a laugh.

Candy scowled at him. “You can just shut up now.”

I stuck my cue back in the rack. “I’m done here.” I took off across the bar, planning to just walk home if I had to. A few miles in the cold would chill me out.

Candy raced up to me, hanging on to my arm. I’d really had it. I couldn’t do anything for her. I tried to shake her off.

She tottered on her spike heels and fell back on her ass. The pair who’d been watching decided now was the time to get involved, and I saw trouble racing toward me like a monsoon.

Mario must have seen it too because he came up beside me and clapped me on the back. “Time to go, buddy. Right now.”

I turned to help Candy back up, but one of the men smacked my hand away and did it himself. Normally I would have jumped his ass immediately, but I had enough trouble for the moment and just headed for the door.

“I don’t think so,” one of the men said, laying his meaty hand on my shoulder to whip me around.

I predicted the blow and ducked below it, coming around his back. “I’m not interested in a fight,” I said. “So walk away.”

“If I have anything to do with it, you won’t be walking anywhere.” He charged at me, but he was clumsy and large, and I dodged him easily.

“Bartender’s on the line,” Mario warned. “Three-minute warning.”

I really did not want to get arrested today. The man circled around, embarrassment probably fueling him as much as his misplaced chivalry. His friend held on to Candy, who squirmed against him. I hope he kept holding her, as I didn’t need her tangled up in this. I flashed briefly to Rosa, aiming the Glock at Sideburns. Who knew? Maybe she was just as scrappy.

“Whatcha think, you need to run away from me?” the man asked, doing a poor imitation of a boxer, thrusting his fists in front of him.

“Seriously, bro, did you learn that from a video?” Mario asked.

“They’ve already called the cops,” I told the guy. “Unless you want to post bail tomorrow, bring it down.”

He charged again, but this time he got lucky, and when I dodged to the side, he picked the right direction and moved with me. He tackled me like a linebacker, knocking over a bar table as we went down.

I didn’t want to strike even a single blow, but I had to shut this guy down. He was trying to pin me from on top, which was about his only advantage due to his size, but a hard elbow to his groin sent him reeling to one side.

I jumped up, expecting the other guy to take his place, but he held on to Candy, his hand on her ass, and I guess she decided something was better than nothing, as she quit trying to get away.

“We done here?” I asked the guy. “Because we’re about to have an official visitor.”

He grimaced and refused to acknowledge me, getting up painfully from the floor.

“Time’s a’wasting.” Mario pushed me to the door.

We were pulling out of the lot when we saw the lights flashing down the street.

“Hell, you could have fucked with him a whole extra minute,” Mario said. “You’re losing your edge.”

I stared out the window. If I was going to make any of this work with Corabelle, or with a kid, I had to do a major life overhaul.