Game Changer (7 page)

He pounded the plastic sheeting once with his fist, then skated away. “Thanks for that,” he called.

Clenching her teeth, Harper let out a growl of frustration. What an asshole.

“What's wrong?” Kayla said, setting a boat of nachos and a beer in front of Harper.

“Not a thing,” Harper said.

“Uh-oh,” Presley said. “What did Brandon say to you this time? I've started tuning out the arguments you two have. New Year's resolution.”

She thought about telling her friends that Brandon was leaving. She thought about telling them about the stupid bet she'd made with him, but he already occupied far too much of her mind. She refused to waste her precious time with her friends talking about the thorn in her side—the one that was would be removed permanently in only a few days' time.

Bomb Squad never did rally. Duke didn't call effective plays and the good ones he did call, the players executed with sloppy, amateurish skills. Liam did manage to score twice and Gabe kept the Slap Dragons to six goals, despite their record-setting number of shots-on-goal.

When the buzzer sounded at the end of the game, Kayla wilted forward. “That sound means I have to face Grandpa again soon.”

Harper rubbed her back. “It'll be okay. Just remember that he and your grandma love you, and even when they're offensive or not understanding, it's only because they're scared for your future.”

“Doesn't make them any easier to deal with,” Kayla said.

“I know. But explain it to them the way you told me, about the boredom and how you want to see the world. Maybe that will help them get onboard with your decision. And I'll make you a deal.” Harper wrote down Locks' address on one of the blank pages at the back of the scorebook, then ripped it off and handed it to Kayla. “Here's the address of my bar. When you're done talking to him and your grandma tonight, come tell me how it went and I'll pour you a beer on the house. And if things don't go well when you talk to them, or you don't feel like you can stay with your grandparents tonight, then you can stay with me. I live above the bar. Then I'll help you figure out how to make things right with them tomorrow.”

“That would be cool.”

It was satisfying to Harper to be there for Duke's family, and it felt great to focus on someone else's issues rather than Brandon or her doctor's appointment the next morning. Then a new idea hit Harper, one that might be an answer to a problem she hadn't even had time to consider yet. “Boot camp starts in six weeks, right?”

“Yep. July sixth.”

Perfect. “You know, Kayla, I could use a temporary roommate, so if you end up needing a place to crash until boot camp, maybe you could consider moving in with me.”

“Are you serious?”

“Sure. I'd want your grandpa's blessing because he's a friend of mine, but I've got an extra room, and it would give you and him some space. Plus, it would help me out.”

“I can't afford much rent.”

“I didn't figure you could, so here's the deal. I've got some health issues that I'm dealing with and, pretty soon, I might be down for the count for a while. Surgery and such. If that happens, I could use somebody to grocery shop for me, get the mail, and help keep my apartment clean, that sort of thing. That could be your rent.”

“What kind of health issues?” Presley said.

Harper opened and closed her mouth. She'd forgotten about her friends sitting within earshot. “I'm not really ready to share, if you don't mind.”

Presley frowned and tapped her finger against her knee. “I mind.”

Marlena set a hand on Presley's arm. “Should we be worried?”

Yes.
“Not yet. I'll have more information tomorrow after my doctor's appointment.”

With her friends looking on suspiciously, Harper turned her attention back to Kayla. “You're all set for tonight?” she asked Kayla.

“Yep.” Kayla held up the paper with Locks' address. “Thank you. I wish my mom was as cool as you.”

Oh, heck no. It was all she could do not to snatch that paper out of Kayla's hand and rescind her offer to punish Kayla for making her feel old again. Harper still had more than two months before she turned forty, for pity's sake. She was definitely not old enough to be compared to Kayla's mom. She pasted a smile on her face. “How about calling me the sister you never had instead? Let's go with that.”

“Deal. I'll see you later tonight.”

Brandon pulled his car past Locks' two-story, boxy brick exterior and into the nearly full parking lot. Clusters of people lingered near the ornately carved entrance door beneath the lit sign reading Lock, Stock & Barrel Tavern. A handful of tables were full on the lower level patio that overlooked a bend in the Erie Canal.

Brandon leaned against the side of his car and waited for his teammates to assemble.

Three blocks away from Locks, in plain view from where Brandon was standing, was the Double Down. By the looks of it, Double Down was jumping, too, with a crowd of people spilling out into the street from the open front of the bar.

Déjà vu smacked him hard. He'd parked in Locks' lot in about the same spot on Tuesday night for the express purpose of breaking it to Harper that he was leaving. Then he'd seen the Double Down, much like he was looking at it now, and had decided he'd needed a couple shots of courage first.

Four hours and three talented college girls later, he'd still ended up confessing to Harper, except then he'd had to watch the betrayal blossom in her eyes when she'd realized what he'd been up to that night. He'd hated that look she'd given him, even though he continued to cling to the petty, juvenile opinion that she had no right to be offended by Brandon moving on—romantically, sexually—since she'd rejected him over and over again throughout the five years they'd known each other.

The team gathered near Brandon's car in the back of the lot.

“I don't see any trouble,” Gabe said.

Neither did Brandon, which had him wondering for the umpteenth time if Harper had latched onto the bar's negligible problems to distract her from her own health issues. That thought led to the realization that her appointment with Dr. Nguyen was in the morning. His stomach churned with dread for her.

He forced his worried thoughts away. “Doesn't look like the punks are here yet, but they've been here every night this week, so it's only a matter of time.”

From his trunk, Brandon removed his drill kit and handed it to Liam. “Here. We've got a project to finish while we wait for them to show.”

He handed a stack of three identical signs he'd found at a hardware store to Will, who read the top one. “Smile, you're on camera.”

“Yeah. Two signs for out here to help deter auto theft and one for the restroom hallway. Gotta make the ladies feel safe.”

“Does Harper use a surveillance camera?”

“She does now.” From out of a bag, Brandon pulled out the other purchase he'd made that day, one that he was particularly proud of, if he did say so himself.

“A video baby monitor?” Liam spat. “I don't get it.”

“That's a baby cam for a nursery,” Theo added.

“I looked into actual video surveillance systems, but they were too expensive and complicated. This'll work well enough to give her views of the parking lot, even after hours. We can mount it near the upper level patio and point it at the lot. It comes with two monitoring screens, so I figure she can keep one in her office and one in her apartment.”

Theo clapped his hands. “I love it. Let's get to work.”

They'd gotten the signs up outside and were nearly done mounting the camera when Harper appeared.

“What's going on out here?” She strode along the building to where Liam was standing on a ladder, drill in hand.

Brandon met her halfway and, yeah, he might have swaggered a little. “We're solving your crime problems.”

She surveyed the guys, who'd stopped working and chatting to watch the spectacle of Brandon and Harper. “The deal was that
you
were going to solve my crime problems, not the team.”

“You didn't specify how I should go about it, so my solution was getting the team's help.”

Her mouth fell open with a huff.

“Here.” He handed her the box containing the monitor screens. “Liam mounted the camera up there under the eave.”

She grimaced at the camera and the sign that Liam had mounted next to it. “That's an ugly sign. It looks terrible on my beautiful building.”

“You also didn't specify in the bet that I had to concern myself with aesthetics, and you can't change the rules of the bet now. A deal's a deal. This is how I'm solving your problems. Back to what I was saying.” He pointed at the box. “The camera has two monitors. One for your office and the other for your apartment. Now you've got eyes on the parking lot any time, day or night. If you see something suspicious, don't go outside and, for the love of God, don't shoot at anyone. Call Theo. He'll handle it.”

Theo blinked at him, not looking too dissimilar from Harper's own blank look of shock. “I will?”

Brandon slapped his back. “Thanks, man. Doing your part to keep the neighborhood safe.”

Harper's mouth lolled open wider.

Smiling at her, Brandon cracked his knuckles. “That takes care of that part of the bet. I've only got one more crime problem to cross off the list, but we can't dispose of that garbage until it gets here. Theo?”

“What now?”

“What do you think about getting your motorcycle gear on—bandana, leather jacket, the works? Let's see how mean you can make yourself look. You could park your bike out front of Locks, too.”

Theo chuckled and rubbed his palms together. “Sounds about right.”

“Will?” Brandon called.

Will walked to Brandon's side. “What's up?”

Brandon nodded at Harper. “Harper has a job offer for you.”

“I do?”

Fine. Brandon could explain it easier than she could, anyway. “Harper needs a weeknight bouncer to handle the dinner shift. Nothing formal, but just someone to keep an eye on the place.”

“Thanks, but I already have a job with Duke that pays the bills,” Will said.

No problem. Brandon had a solution for that, too. He was on a roll tonight. A man on a mission. “She'll comp you dinner.”

“I will?”

“That'd be cool,” Will said. “I hate cooking, and I can only bum dinner off Donna and Duke so many nights a week, ya know?”

“Right,” Brandon said. “You're hired.”

Harper swung her wide-eyed gaze from Will to Brandon, so Brandon gave her his best shit-eating grin.

“You can start on Monday at five, Will,” Harper said, her gaze still trained on Brandon.

Brandon slapped Will's shoulder, then picked up the remaining camera sign for the restroom hallway and tucked it under his arm. “Got that drill, Liam? Let's take this party inside.”

***

Harper watched Brandon and Liam hang another ugly sign, this one at the end of the hallway containing the restrooms and an employee entrance, still clinging to her disbelief that he was actually going to pull off his side of the bet.

“Harper?”

She spun at the sound of her voice and found Kayla smiling at her.

“I just stopped by to let you know that I checked in with my grandma and told her what was going on.”

“How'd she take it?”

Kayla's eyes went wide and she tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. “Better than grandpa. We called a truce for tonight and decided to talk more in the morning, when they're better rested.”

Harper ushered her out of the hallway and toward the bar. “Sounds like I owe you that beer now.” She flagged Susan over, who took Kayla's order.

“Are you staying here tonight or with your grandparents?” Harper asked.

“I'm going to stay with them, at least for tonight, I think. But thank you for your offer to bunk here.”

“It still stands. You've got six weeks until boot camp. That's a long time, and I could still use a temporary roommate to help me out.”

“Yeah, about those health issues you mentioned,” Presley said, materializing behind Harper and Kayla. With her were Allison, Olivia, and Marlena.

Harper's stomach dropped. “Kayla, stay here and enjoy your beer. I need to have a word with my friends, if you'll excuse me.”

When they'd moved out of earshot from Kayla, Presley said, “I'm not going to be able to sleep tonight unless you tell me what's going on with this mysterious health issue you've alluded to, so it's time for you to come clean.”

Harper searched her friends' faces. She didn't want to come clean. She wanted to keep on ignoring the unpleasantness as long as possible.

Marlena found Harper's hand and gave it a squeeze. “Let's go up to your apartment, where we can talk in private.”

Harper nodded. Presley was right. It was time to share her secret.

Inside her apartment, her friends gathered around her kitchen table, but Harper was too jittery to sit. “Can I get you guys tea? Wine?”

Presley fanned her fingers out on the table. “Just spill it. You've got my hands shaking, I'm so worried.”

“Okay. I'm sorry.” Harper dropped into the empty chair and folded her hands on the table, keeping her focus on her fingers so she wouldn't have to look at her friends' worried expressions. “I have a mutated BRCA1 gene. I was diagnosed with it about five years ago. And before you get on me for not telling you, just know I had my reason.” And that reason was that she wanted to ignore it.

The table was quiet, then Allison asked gently, “What's BRCA1?”

“It's been in the news a lot recently. A lot of people pronounce it like
bracca.
Some articles I've seen about it call it the breast cancer gene, which is only partially true. It's a genetic marker for a lot of different cancers.”

Presley gasped. “Oh my God. I've heard of that. That's what Angelina Jolie has.”

“Yes. I mean, I think, though I'm not up-and-up on her particulars.”

Marlena covered Harper's hands with one of hers. “Your mom died of breast cancer, right?”

“Yes. And my aunt. And my grandmother. And their mutated gene was passed to me.”

Chairs scooted closer. More hands touched Harper, on her arms and shoulders, though she kept her gaze on the table, knowing she'd lose it if she looked at her friends directly. “You found out about the gene five years ago?”

“Yes. My doctors had been after me for a few years to get tested. Not just because of my family history but because when I was twenty-four, pre-cancerous cells were found in one of my ovaries, so I had surgery to remove my ovaries and my fallopian tubes, then chemo as a precaution.”

“I had no idea you'd gone through something like that,” Presley said. “Sometimes I could strangle you, because you're such a private person.”

“I know. I'm sorry. It's hard enough to live with, much less talk about. Most of the time, I just want to forget about it and live my life. Back when I had the ovarian surgery, genetic testing research hadn't exploded yet. But when the BRCA1 mutation link to cancer was discovered and genetic testing became a thing, my doctors got after me to get tested. I put it off because I was scared. I knew what they'd find.”

“Angelina Jolie had a double mastectomy. Did you have one, too? Are your boobs fake, because I've always thought they might be fake,” Olivia said.

Despite everything, Harper found herself smiling. “No. They're real. I haven't had a mastectomy.” Her smile fell. “Yet,” she added quietly.

“You've known for five years that you have this ticking time bomb inside of you and you told no one? How did you live with such a secret?” Presley said. Her tone wasn't blaming, but full of sorrow. Harper chanced a look at her to find her eyes filled with tears.

“It wasn't a total secret. The day I found out I had the gene mutation, I barely made it out of my oncologist's office and into the medical building lobby before I had a total breakdown. Brandon, of all people, walked in and found me. Turns out one of his doctors has an office in that building, too. He and I had just gone on a first date the weekend before and it hadn't gone well.”

“If memory serves, you told me he was trying to get in your pants from the moment he picked you up for dinner,” Presley said.

“Exactly. It was less a date and more like he was feeding me to make sure I had enough energy for a night of screwing.”

Marlena gave a quiet bark of laughter. “So romantic.”

“And he hasn't changed a bit,” Presley added.

“You didn't give in to him, did you?” Allison said. Allison had only come to town the year before. Now, she was Harper's neighbor, operating and living in the boat rental business across the green commons from Locks. She'd entered into Harper and Brandon's perpetual drama right about the time it'd come to a head with that stupid kissing bet during the previous year's hockey season.

“No way. Even still, we'd had a pretty good time and I was still attracted to him, so we'd set up another date. But after I found out about the gene mutation, I didn't want to waste any more time with meaningless flings with guys who couldn't commit. And I told him as much. The rest is history.”

“You said you had a health scare this week. Is it cancer?” Presley said.

“Maybe.” She went silent, fighting the wash of despair that threatened to bring tears to her eyes. She felt the eyes of her friends on her, as well as the weight that had descended. “My oncologist found a shadow on one of my breasts during my last mammogram. It's not even big enough to do a biopsy on, but it's there.”

As she spoke, her friends never let go of her hands and her arms and her shoulders. They lifted her up, though tears flowed among them all. There was no weighted silence when Harper was done. Just love and support that made Harper realize what a disservice she'd done to herself in keeping her issues a secret from the people who meant the most to her.

“What's going to happen next, if they can't do a biopsy?” Marlena asked.

“I've got a few choices, but none of them are good. I could wait and see. I could get a lumpectomy. Or . . .” She drew in a deep breath. “A double mastectomy would reduce my risk of getting cancer by nearly fifty percent, give or take, whether the shadow is cancerous or not.”