Текст книги "Family Love"

Автор книги: Liz Crowe

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Текущая страница: 12 (всего у книги 20 страниц)

Chapter Six

I woke the next morning to smells of breakfast. Confused for a few seconds, I stared up at the canopy of my teenaged bed, pondering it and all my many memories of mornings spent in this exact position, the exact same odors making my mouth water. I grabbed my phone to check the time, groaning at the big, bright 7:32, and found text messages from a few people in New York, my clingy roommate included. I deleted them. They had no place in this life, in this bed, this room.

I sat up, mystified by my own clear-headedness, until realizing it must be the first time I’d woken up without a hangover in months.

The muted voices from the kitchen sent a shaft of dread through me, but in a purely reflexive way. No one knew about my newly non-scholarly life in the big city. And no one would, ever. While part of me wished I could confide in my brothers, they had their own shit to manage, if last night’s careful observation of all the overt and just-under-the-surface drama was any indication. Starting with That Look I’d unwillingly intercepted between Rosalee Norris—Antony’s intended, according to everyone—and my youngest brother Aiden. All the while Antony made eyes at that new lady, Margot, the therapist.

Dominic, for a change, seemed free of the usual BS that typically surrounded him. Perhaps it wasn’t his turn, I suppose. When I got in last night after spending a few quality hours with a distraught AliceLynn, he’d told me Aiden had hooked up with his old high school girlfriend Renee Reese the night before—loudly, and in the pool, which was just outside the kitchen window.

Renee’s history with the Love family was convoluted in the extreme. After Dom dumped her in high school—they were the same age—she’d latched on to Aiden in a way that’d amused my father and two oldest brothers and made my mother spitting mad. Dom hadn’t been too thrilled about it either, and he’d only gone after Aiden once it became clear Renee and the youngest Love brother had become a couple despite their age difference. That had been a scary fight and something our father had a hard time getting under control.

Poor Kieran was mired in a strange relationship with the most horrible bitch-on-wheels woman I had ever encountered. The thought of my sweetest, most even-tempered brother letting that hopped-up, snooty cow order him around the rest of his married life made my gut churn.

But it was, as they say, none of my damn business. I’d made sure of that by avoiding everyone and everything here, not too different from the way Aiden had, with his multiple college degrees, and now a fancy writing school in Idaho, or Montana, or elsewhere in the boondocks. Of course, he had eased right back into his beloved baby brother role, the bizarre moment I’d witnessed between him and Rosalee not withstanding.

I got up, brushed my teeth, and pulled on a pair of jeans and a T-shirt. It had to be hot out, but my mother always kept it a hair above frigid in the house.

When I saw my own face in the mirror, it looked haunted. I frowned at my reflection, reminding myself to get a grip. This was life. People died. I was here to provide support and whatever comfort I could to the men of the house.

I squared my shoulders and headed for the steps. But my foot paused in midair, suspended, before touching the first one. I hurried back and made up my bed. I had not made my bed since leaving here, I mused, while fluffing the pillows and making sure nothing was dangling from beneath the heavy comforter. I heard more familiar voices joining the two in the kitchen and smiled to myself.

My brother Dom’s distinctive, low, almost gravelly laughter was punctuated by my mother’s raised voice and my father’s chuckle. He’d probably let loose with a bit of semi-lewd commentary about a date, or something one of the brewery staff had been caught doing in the cooler. He loved to pretend to shock my mother, even though we all knew she was rarely, if ever, shocked.

I took a breath, and went down the steps. Dom was leaning against the counter, coffee mug in hand. For a moment he seemed bigger to me, and I shook my head. But he was merely Dominic—the scary one to all my young friends, and the hottest one to my teenaged pals, even with his inherent drama-trauma.

As the only blond brother, he still possessed the Love family square jaw and chin dimple, combined with the Halloran angular, high cheekbones and our father’s dark chocolate eyes. He was pretty good-looking. Even I’d admit that.

His little “up yours” to trigger our parents’ disapproval monitor was the ink that ran up his arms and across his torso and shoulders. He was also fond of piercings, and not just the ones in and around his ears. The others were hidden, thank God. But I knew about them.

Ironically, since he clashed harder with our father than any of the other boys, he’d been the only one out of them with a serious interest in the family business. With Dominic in charge these last few years, the brewery had almost quadrupled its capacity and ran three shifts to keep up with the distribution demands. When I first saw a Love Brewing Broken-Hearted IPA on the shelves of my little grocery in Greenwich Village, I’d almost burst with pride.

“Ah, my prodigal baby sister,” he said, spotting me lurking in the doorway. “C’mere and give me a proper hug. It was too crowded for it yesterday.” I ducked under his outstretched arm and held onto his waist, the comfort only a big brother can provide making my rapid heart rate ratchet down a notch or two. He handed me his mug and I sipped my mother’s special—she claimed secret—blend of coffee I had never been able to recreate, no matter how hard I tried.

My father sat, staring down into his mug, looking miserable, while Mama flitted here and there, scrambling eggs, checking the biscuits, slapping Dom’s fingers away from the bacon and country ham already prepared and waiting. She ignored me until it came time to put the platters on the table. I took them and poured orange juice right about the time Antony and Aiden arrived. Mama smiled, accepted their kisses, and leveled her gaze at me for the first time that morning. “Glad to have my whole family here for a change.”

I smiled weakly. Antony seemed grumpier than usual when he flopped into a seat at the dining room table. Dominic brought the coffee carafe and clouted Aiden on the back of head with his other hand. Kieran showed up right when we were about to sit. I smiled at the familiar scene, all the way down to my middle brother’s tardiness. We held hands and bowed our heads before anyone reached for anything.

“Dear Lord,” my father began, “we thank you for the bounty of the table. Use this food for the nourishment of our bodies. Thank you for the safe arrival of both Aiden and Angelique, and the relative success of the family dinner last evening. We ask that you hold us all close as we approach Lindsay’s surgery. Give us all her level of inner strength and guide the hands of the doctors. May they see their way clear to find the evil cancer and carve it out of her so she can recover and continue to hold her important place at this table. I …”

His voice broke. I squeezed his hand hard and peeked at him. He swallowed, took a deep breath and continued. I didn’t really hear the rest for the roaring in my ears. On my other side, Aiden had a death grip on my fingers. I glanced down at my mother’s serene face, my chest tight and tears burning.

“Angel,” my father whispered. I turned to him, startled out of my reverie. “We’re ready to eat now.” He smiled, his forehead crinkling up and the lines at the sides of his mouth deepening. I let go, mortified that I’d been caught staring at my mother and hadn’t even realized he’d said “amen.”

My mother picked up the huge platter of eggs and handed them to her right, the signal for us to begin serving ourselves, which we did in silence, my brothers’ faces each reflecting its own unique version of tension.

The food tasted glorious. I hadn’t had a decent meal for months, and last night’s didn’t count, what with all the declarations about Mama’s illness, the strange Margot intervention, and Antony’s reaction to the announcement of AliceLynn’s return to his house.

“So, Antony,” Mama said, interrupting the eating sounds.

“Ma’am?” He was holding his coffee mug in two hands.

“When can we expect to set the wedding date?”

“Um …” He seemed startled.

“I’m right proud to hear that you and Rosie came to your senses, and are going stop this silly dating thing and finally tie the knot. Paul’s Mama thinks so, too.” She named Paul Norris’s mother, the dead man who’d been Rosie’s high school sweetheart and husband, and Antony’s lifelong best friend.

“Glad to hear y’all have it sorted out for us.” He didn’t look at her.

“Don’t sass,” our father intoned from his end of the table.

“Sorry,” Antony muttered under his breath.

“That wild boy of hers needs a Daddy with a firm hand.”

“Yes, ma’am. The answer is I don’t know … yet. Rosie and I … we have to figure out … some … details.”

Aiden fidgeted in his chair next to me. Antony shot him a dark look. I met Kieran’s gaze across the table with a raised eyebrow. He shrugged, lost in his own world, probably. Dreaming of life with that dreadful woman I’d met the night before.

“Kieran,” Mama said, making him flinch and drop his fork. It clanged off the edge of the plate and hit the floor. He stared up at her like a deer in the headlights.

“Ma’am?”

“Be sure to coordinate yours and that Melinda’s wedding date with your brother’s. She strikes me as the type of gal who wouldn’t pay attention to that detail.”

He nodded. Mama raised her eyebrow at him before patting her lips with her napkin. “Yes ma’am,” he said reaching down to fetch his fork.

“Aiden, my sweet,” she said, using her old phrase, and making my brother flush deep red while Dominic snickered.

“Ma’am?” He’d served himself a second helping of everything and had been digging into it.

“I warned you about that Renee, if I’m not mistaken. I know she came here last night. I do have ears.”

Dominic snorted and choked on his coffee. Daddy punched his shoulder, making him wince and then scowl. I glanced at Antony. He wore a self-satisfied smirk. I looked at Kieran. He nodded.

Intrigued, recalling Dominic’s laughing description of last night’s scene, I watched Aiden’s face stay red while he chewed and swallowed the bite of biscuit and gravy, then use his napkin, mirroring her, stalling, I knew.

“Yes, ma’am. I’m real sorry about … that.” He blinked in the face of her hard glare. He rarely, if ever, displeased her. Even when he was a knucklehead.

“No need to discuss it any more.” My father leaned his head, indicating me.

“Oh for heaven’s sake, Anton,” Mama snapped, making all of us look at her, recognizing the tone. “She’s a grown woman.”

“I am well aware of that, Lindsay,” he said, slowly, indicating his own rising temper.

I stood at the same time Kieran did, both of us picking up plates and moving toward the kitchen, hoping to escape a looming argument. Mama glared down the table at Daddy, her fork gripped tight in her fingers. Aiden got up to help.

“Shame on y’all, makin’ all that noise,” I said, bumping his hip with mine at the sink. “Whose lousy idea was that, anyhow?”

He put his dishes down and sighed. “Oh, well, Renee came to pick me up last night and we … um …”

“You were fucking in the pool and they all heard you.” I made this a statement.

“Well, kind of.”

When I turned, everyone was piling into the kitchen with their dishes. Antony and Dom brought the empty platters. Mama and Daddy were right behind them.

“Please, I dare anyone in this room to claim they haven’t done the same thing in that pool.” Mama refilled her coffee mug and turned to face us. We all stared at her, slack-jawed. “Well? Go on. Anyone who hasn’t had sex in the pool raise your hand.”

I glanced at my brothers. They all stood in various stages of shocked embarrassment; fingers tucked in jeans pockets or hooked in belt loops. Daddy glared at them, then at Mama. Neither of them raised their hand, either.

“Oh, my sweet Lord, that is way too much information on a Saturday morning for me,” I said, winking at my brothers. They all chuckled nervously, glancing between our parents’ stony faces. “Somebody wipe off the table.” I threw a wet rag in the general direction of the Love Brothers peanut gallery, and then turned to the sink.

“I have a project for you while you’re home,” my mother said, taking the dishes I handed her and loading the dishwasher.

“Oh?” I left off the bit about me planning not to be here much past her surgery.

“Yes, the downstairs family room, I want to strip the paint off the paneling and restore it.”

“You can’t pay to have it done?” I wiped the slightly worn Formica counters, wondering why in the world she never did anything to upgrade the kitchen other than replace an appliance every few years.

“Why would I do that when I have a couple of my youngest children in town?”

I sighed and reached into the broom closet for the final set-in-stone stage of kitchen cleanup.

“All right, Mama,” I said, unwilling to engage. The day stretched like a long ride to nowhere right then. “I think I’ll go fetch AliceLynn, and we’ll go shopping. Or something.”

“That’s fine,” she said. “Dominic, you were in early last night.”

“Yeah, well,” he said, pulling his long hair into a ponytail. “My date didn’t quite go the way I’d planned.”

“You’d better be behaving like you were raised right,” she said, giving his face a not-so-gentle smack.

“Why’re you staying here anyway?” I asked, handing him the broom and dustpan to put away.

“Want to be nearby, in case she needs anything.”

“That rathole of an apartment over the old brewery needs fumigating, probably,” Antony muttered, ducking to one side when Dom threw a punch.

“Get on out, now. This place is too small for all you boys,” Mama said.

They stood in a line, looking at her like so many overgrown puppy dogs waiting on their mama to tell ‘em where to pee. She crossed her arms. “Shoo, beat it. You starin’ at me won’t make the cancer disappear.”

Aiden and Antony headed out. Dom and Kieran stayed, and we three got the lecture on the whys and wherefores of our mother’s latest redecoration concept. She’d bought the stripper already and had it sitting on the lower family room coffee table, with drop cloths and scrapers. Once she’d finished and headed down to do laundry or ironing the three of us collapsed on the couch and flipped on the TV.

“Where’s your sweetie, Francis?” Dom asked.

“Fuck you,” Kieran mumbled.

“I heard that, Mister Love. My swear jar best be a dollar richer when next I see it,” Mama called from the lower level.

Dom smiled sweetly at Kieran and got flipped off in return. “Mama, he’s—” But Kieran lurched across me and tackled Dom before he could get out another word. While they rolled on the floor I kept lifting my legs up so I wouldn’t get squashed.

“You boys are the sorriest pack of so-and-so’s,” Daddy said, coming in from the patio. “If y’all are bored enough to be rassling, I’ve got work needs doing outside.”

I jumped up, eager to do something to get me out of the way of the brawl on the floor. “No, not you. You need to help your Mama.”

“Help her do what?” I could hear the whine in my voice and hated it.

Kieran got to his feet first, straightening his clothing, his suck-up smile fixed in place. I adored him, but he and Aiden would be hard-pressed to sort out who was the bigger brown-noser between the two of them. “I’ll help,” he said, giving Dom a hard shove, flattening him when he was trying to get up.

“Help her get the house in order for while she’s gone. You know how she is.”

“No, I don’t. But whatever,” I said, throwing up my hands in the overgrown teenager-ish way I realized I’d adopted the longer I stayed in this house.

Ignoring my snit, he took off his ratty UK Wildcats ball cap and wiped his forehead. “Docs say she’ll be ten days in the hospital after they do the surgery, so they can sort out the … whatever comes next.” He looked closer to crying than I’d ever seen him before, which freaked me all the way out. I didn’t stick around to watch the three of them head outdoors.

Once I’d slaved over laundry, bed sheet changing, bathroom scrubbing, and vacuuming of rooms that didn’t need it, I told Mama I wanted to sit out by the pool for a few minutes before we got dinner together, and didn’t wait for her reply. Dom and Kieran were out there, skimming and checking chemical levels.

“Be sure and dump enough in there to kill Aiden jizz,” Dom said, tossing the few leaves and blades of grass he’d skimmed over the chain link fence.

Kieran nodded, added a bit more liquid from a jug, and then tested the water again. “Don’t go in there,” he said, getting to his feet with a wince. The ugly scar running from mid-thigh almost to the top of his foot was a deep pink, fully visible against his pale skin. “You might sprout a third eye.”

“I won’t,” I said, getting comfy and listening to the oh-so-familiar sounds of Love family life—brothers squabbling, baseball game coming from a speaker on the patio, all set against the buzzing backdrop of a lawn mower.

Chapter Seven

My mother’s radical mastectomy was scheduled for eight a.m., so we all trooped in behind her and Daddy at seven, per the nurse’s instructions. The wait was unbearable, thanks to the nervous pacing and fidgeting and twitching all the Misters Love were doing.

“Will y’all just sit, already? Here, I brought a pack of cards,” I said, pulling them from my purse after finishing my fifth, or maybe eighth, cup of coffee.

Distracting them as a group seemed the best plan. So we played Texas hold ‘em for about an hour. By eleven, I’d taken all their change, and Antony was getting pissy about losing to me so often. He stomped off, making noises about finding food. I closed my eyes, content to listen to music on my phone, but still aware of the tension wafting through the small family waiting room.

By the time a scrubs-clad tall man knocked on the door and entered, we were all like a pack of nervous cats, jumping at every sound or hint of one. “Yes,” Daddy said. “It’s done?”

“Yes, Mister Love.” He looked around at the group, his smile sending relief shooting down my spine. “She’s in recovery for a while. We got everything we could locate. But you should know that she’s in for some pretty hardcore treatments going forward.”

“I know,” Daddy said, wiping a shaking hand down his face. “We decided to do everything we could, based on what everyone was recommending.”

“When can we see her?” Aiden asked the question on everyone’s lips but mine. I didn’t want to see her. I had no desire to witness my mother reduced by anything, much less nearly four hours of surgery.

“You can go in now,” he said, indicating Daddy. “When she’s moved to a room, probably in about two hours …”

“Why two hours? Rosie said her Mama was only in recovery for thirty minutes after similar surgery,” Antony interrupted, looking like he was about to jump clean out of his skin.

The doctor frowned and glanced at his computer tablet, poked on it a few seconds then sighed. “Missus Love had a cardiac incident during surgery,” he said.

We absorbed this news. He looked at his tablet again. “But we were able to revive her. She needs to stay under longer. You can go in,” he said again to my father, whose mouth was hanging open.

“Cardiac incident,” Kieran said, his voice dipping deep into pissed-off Love male territory. “Is that a heart attack?” He moved closer to our father, I suspected to prop him up.

“Yes,” the doctor said, clutching his tablet to his chest and looking a little defensive.

“Then why not just call it that?”

“It doesn’t matter now, son,” Daddy said, putting a hand on Kieran’s arm. “Y’all start making calls and letting everyone know she’s out and she’s fine. I need to see her.”

He followed the doctor out.

Dom blew out a breath and flopped onto the couch. “Je-sus,” he said. Kieran pulled out his phone and made a call, as did Aiden. I watched them, still stunned from the early morning wakeup, the hours of pent-up tension, and now the news of a “cardiac incident” and “hardcore treatments” from her doctor.

Three hours later, we circled her bed, watching her breathe. She’d had a tough time coming out from under the anesthesia, according to the harried-looking surgeon. But she was stable now, and breathing on her own with no trouble. Sleeping and liable to stay that way for about six more hours, they said. Nurses came and went, adjusting her IV and sticking needles into the lines. So many drugs, I thought, my mind reeling from the sight of her—such a frail wraith, barely a lump under the thin hospital blanket.

“Oh, bless her heart,” I heard a woman say and looked up to see Rosie. She went straight to Antony and hugged him. “I’ve been praying.”

He nodded and swiped at his eyes. Aiden moved away from them, frowning and heading toward the door.

“Your refrigerator is overflowing, Mr. Love,” Rosie said, touching Daddy’s arm. He nodded but kept watching my mother’s face, brushing it with his fingertips, tucking her hair behind her ears and fiddling with her covers.

Rosie turned to look at the rest of us. “I’ve made up a little schedule so someone’s always with her, but no one has to stay for too many hours at a time. It’s great you’re here, Angelique.” She smiled, but I was barely able to return it.

“I’m not leaving,” Daddy said, his voice low and firm. “Not for a good while, anyway.”

“Okay, I figured that much,” Rosie said, pulling out a piece of paper from her purse. “I’ll stay with you tonight. Let the boys and Angelique go on home for now.” My brothers all nodded, their expressions reflecting mine, which felt slack, loose, and helpless from seeing our powerful, dominating mother laid out like a corpse.

“Come on,” Antony said, tugging at Kieran, who turned away from Mama’s bedside, his face pale. “Let’s go.” Antony put an arm around Rosie’s shoulders and kissed her hair. “Thanks, honey. I’ll be back at …” He stopped, blinking as if losing his train of thought.

“Seven a.m.,” Rosie reminded him. “Aiden’s opening the garage.” She glanced over at Aiden. When he visibly flinched, I knew as sure as I knew my own jeans size that something was going on between them. But right then it simply didn’t matter. I grabbed hold of the raised bars on my side of Mama’s bed.

“I’m gonna stay a bit longer,” I said, leaning against my father. He put an arm around me. “Rosie, do you think you could find us something to eat?”

“Of course,” she said, ever chipper and hyper-organized. “Give me fifteen minutes.”

Once the room had emptied out, I felt more in control of myself and the situation. I made Daddy sit in the lounge chair I scooted close to the bed and got us both a soda from the machine. “Doctors say she’s doing great,” I said from my perch on the other chair across the room. “She’s not about to die on us, Daddy. I just know it. And you know she’s not a quitter.”

He nodded but didn’t reply, holding onto his untouched soda can until I took it from him and set it on a nearby tray. He barely acknowledged the pizza Rosie brought, but I made him eat one slice—one sixth of what he could usually put away.

“It’s almost eight o’clock. Want me to find the baseball game?” I flicked on the television mounted on the wall opposite the bed. He nodded, but kept his gaze on my mother’s face, where it had been riveted for the past however many hours we’d been sitting and waiting, watching, and expecting her to sit up any minute and start bossing everybody around.

It was not the first time I’d been privy to the powerful connection my parents shared. Aiden was even trying to sell a novel about it … about us, I guess, but with the names changed. But today, sitting here in this stuffy room that now smelled of pizza and rubber and bleach, it made me burst into tears.

Startled, Daddy looked over at me, blinking fast, as if I’d waked him up from a deep sleep. He was white knuckling the railing

“I’m s-s-s-sorry,” I blubbered. Not even sure why I was doing it, other than being in mourning for my upside down life and my poor, miserable-looking father. Or maybe, if I was completely honest with myself, I was accepting that I would not be returning to New York anytime soon.