My Once and Future Love (18 page)

I lurched forward to rip her stupid
bottle-blonde hair out. He caught me round the waist and pulled me
onto his lap.

“Easy, love. She’s not worth an assault
charge.”

I glared at her, daggers in my eyes. She
shrunk back.

“Be somewhere else.”

The waitress huffed and pranced away. My
shoulders sagged, the fight leaving me as fast as it rose up.

He turned my face to him. “That was bloody
hot.”

My face flamed. “That was
embarrassing
. I don’t know what got into me.”

“Defending your territory, love. Chit was out
of line.” He stroked my tummy under the hem of my shirt, creating
goosebumps. “Such a mouth on you…”

“I can’t believe I said that in public. Do
you think they’ll kick us out?”

He glanced past me, then back at my face.
“Only if we do what I have in mind,” he purred.

My cheeks turned a deeper red. “You’re so
naughty.”

“Yep,” he said with glee. “Wanna get out of
here?”

I eased out of his arms. “Think I should
finish my milkshake.”

“Okay.” He grinned as I sat down, spreading
his arms over the back of the booth. “I can wait.”

I finished my glass and moved on to the extra
in the metal cup.

“She’s wrong, you know.”

“Huh?”

“’Bout you havin’ the figure of a pipe
cleaner. Not true.”

Oh
.
“Thanks.”

“’Sides, her tits are fake, anyway.”

“
Jacob
.”

He shrugged. “It’s true.”

I frowned. “And you know this how?”

“Locker room talk.”

“You didn’t…”

He made a face. “We made out after a few
pilfered beers at a beach party. Kisses like a fish.” He chuckled.
“I wasn’t very discriminating at sixteen.”

“No kidding.”

“Hey.”

“Saw and heard about them all, bucko. You
were hormones looking for a place to happen—except with me.”

“You were special. Couldn’t bollocks up my
one true friendship. Had to play to their expectations, you know?
But I could—can—relax with you.” He grasped my free hand. “It’s
more than want with you.”

Swoon. Holy romance, Batman. “Charmer…”

“I mean it. You think I’d fly eleven hours
for anybody?”

I shook my head. For the most part, he didn’t
make attachments, and his mother was the only person he’d bend over
backwards for. Or, had been. I ate my last spoonful and left money
on the table.

He took my hand on the way out.

Mom had Vivian and Jacob over for dinner. He
sat across from me and kept rubbing my foot with his. Dad ate
quietly like usual when company was over, and our mothers gabbed.
I’d forgotten they were good friends, too.

When the moms retreated to the kitchen to
wash dishes and gossip and Dad was in his office again, Jacob and I
took dessert out to the backyard. We picked a spot out-of-sight of
any windows.

“How are you doing?”

I exhaled. “Anxious.” And sat down. “The
what-ifs have been playing through my mind all day.”

He sat next to me on the planter. “Well, I’m
good at distraction.”

A smiled teased at my lips. That was very
true. I only had to ask. “I’ll stick to Fudge Brownie ice cream in
the backyard.”

He smiled, bumping shoulders. “As you
wish.”

I leaned my head on that shoulder. “I’m glad
you’ll still be here tomorrow.”

“Until the term starts. Maybe do some
auditions.”

“Oh?”

“Don’t sound so surprised,” he teased.

Had I managed surprise? Because I wasn’t,
really. When he got an idea in his head, he stuck to it to the
bitter end. “What does your mom think of that?” I asked,
straightening up to see his face.

“Haven’t told her, yet.”

“Ah.”

He looked skyward. “I know…I know.”

“See, you’re not completely independent,
either, Mr. Judgey.”

“Touché.” He poked my ribs, making me jump.
“Smart-ass.”

Tickling wasn’t fair. “Eat your ice cream.
It’s melting.”

“Yes,
dear
,” he said, and made a big
show of taking a bite. “Welcome to stay over tonight, you
know.”

I smiled at the offer, but had to refuse. “I
shouldn’t. I might sleep too late. Mom has to check in at
seven.”

“I have an alarm clock, love.” He tucked my
hair behind my ear. “But whatever’s easiest for you.”

It was really tempting. I didn’t want to be
alone, knowing I’d lie awake worrying about what they’ll find
tomorrow. At least with him next to me, I wouldn’t be staring at
the ceiling by myself.

“I should stay in my bedroom.”

He nodded. “Okay. If you think that’s
best.”

I tilted my head to catch his eye. “I didn’t
say alone.”

He smiled. “
Oh
.” He leaned in to kiss
me, but I put my hand on his chest.

“Just sleep. The other stuff is…noisy.”

He nuzzled the side of my neck, his lips
brushing my ear. “It’s not me who has a problem bein’ quiet,
kitten.” The gentle touch made my pulse quicken.

The sliding door opened. We sprung apart.

“Jacob, I’m going home, now,” his mother
said. “Sarah needs her sleep.”

“Yes, mum. I’ll be along soon as I finish my
bowl.”

One brow arched, noting how long we’d been
out here, but she said, “Alright, darling. I’ll leave the front
light on.” She went back inside.

“We should head in.”

At least it was Vivian who came out. If Dad
caught us sitting too close together...

The bowls were left in the kitchen sink, then
I escorted him out the front door. “Wait a while, to make sure
they’re asleep. I’ll leave my window open.”

He kissed me, short and soft. “Until later,
love.”

I watched him walk around the corner.

When dressing for bed, I picked my most
conservative summer pajamas. My bed was a twin, which didn’t leave
a lot of room for two of us, so I spread an extra blanket and
pillow on the floor next to it. Like a slumber party, if you had
those with gorgeous twenty-year-old men that happened to be your
boyfriend and see you naked. I jotted down the questions I wanted
to ask at the hospital in a notebook, then got in bed and
waited.

Around midnight, he came over the wall. He
climbed in my window and silently lowered it closed. “Hey,” he
whispered. He wore an old tee with a few holes in it and a pair of
sweatpants.

“Hi.”

He glanced down at the floor. “Like old
times, eh?”

“It’s a small bed,” I said, and drew back the
sheet, scooting over to make room. “You might prefer the
floor.”

He crawled onto my mattress for a welcome
kiss. “Over holding you? Never.”

We tried for a working position, ending up
with him on his back and me on my side with my limbs draped over
him. Spooning would’ve worked, too, but I didn’t want to turn my
back to him, yet. We couldn’t talk that way.

“Pillow smells like you,” he said.

“It does?”

He nodded. “Like your shampoo. Back in high
school, I’d catch a whiff of somethin’ that smelled so good…finally
figured out it was your hair.”

“Back then? Really?”

He ran his fingers through my hair, stroking
my scalp. “That fruity tropical stuff. It was so distracting when
you’d lean over my shoulder to check my work.”

“My leave-in conditioner. I thought you had
ADD ‘cause I always had to repeat myself.”

“Unh-uh. It was this.” He kept petting my
head, making me tingly.

This wasn’t helping my resolve to just sleep.
Mom brushed my hair all the time when I was a little girl and that
was relaxing, so I had no clue his fingers doing the same thing
would be arousing. Then again, a
picture
of him was arousing
for me. I tried to think sleepy thoughts.

“Still awake?”

“Mmm-hmm.” I snuggled closer. His pec was a
really nice pillow.

“Want me to come with you tomorrow?”

“Think they’ll only allow family.”

“Oh. How long should it take?”

“Not terribly? It’s simple in words. They
open up the area, visualize the tumor, and remove it. Make sure
there’s no bleeding, sew her up, done. Maybe an hour or two, I
don’t know. They’ll tell us what to expect. I just hope she doesn’t
have to stay overnight.”

“Why would she?”

“Bad reaction to the anesthetic or a drug.
Anything can happen.” There were way too many variables with the
human body for my comfort.

“Beth, I’m sure it’ll be fine. Does your
mother have allergies?”

“No…”

He held me tighter. “Then the odds are with
her. Try to go to sleep, love.”

“Okay.”

With my glasses off, I couldn’t really stare
at anything, anyway, so I closed my eyes and listened to his
heartbeat below my ear. The steady thump lulled me into drifting
off.

When my alarm went off at five-thirty, he
wasn’t there.

Chapter Fifteen

My guess of an hour or two for the surgery?
On par. What I
didn’t
know was they were injecting Mom with
a dye to see the sentinel lymph node first, whatever that was. She
had to wait around three hours for her body to spread the dye to
where the surgeon needed it. Good thing I suggested she bring a
book.

“Elizabeth, could you stop pacing,
please?”

“Sorry, Mom.” I sat in the uncomfortable
hospital chair and watched the clock, my knee bouncing with
impatience. I’d tried reading already, but after going over the
same sentence three times, I gave up and had to move. “Maybe I’ll
find Daddy.”

He couldn’t wait and do nothing, either. I
found him in the cafeteria, buying coffee.

“How long have we got?” he asked.

“Maybe another half hour. If the surgeon’s on
time.”

“Want to take a walk?”

“Okay.” The hospital smelled like no other
place I’d been, and I didn’t like it.

I steered us to the courtyard outside. They
had some grass and pathways running between the offices and the
hospital. There was a breeze today, and the weather had cooled down
to seventy degrees at this hour of the morning.

“Mom is pretty Zen about this whole
thing.”

“Zen?” My father looked sideways at me.

“You know, calm. Unruffled.”

“She’s an adult.”

“Plenty of adults freak out at the C-word,
Dad.” Like him, though he didn’t display that like most people.

“I don’t know what to tell you, Elizabeth.
Your mother is a strong woman. It’s part of why I married her.” He
still walked like an Army guy, with perfect posture and even
steps.

“Do you think it’ll be good news today?”

He checked his watch. “We should head
back.”

I sighed. “Okay, Dad.”

Mom had changed into a hospital gown while we
were gone. Her doctor was there with a clipboard.

“Hi, folks. I was just going over the
procedure with Mrs. Lawson. We’ll be using a local anesthetic, as
this is an outpatient surgery. Besides removing the tumor and a bit
of the surrounding tissue, I’ll be taking out the nearest lymph
node to check if the cancer has spread.”

“What if it has?” I asked.

“Then we’ll be going back later and removing
the axillary lymph nodes in the armpit to be safe, but I’m hoping
that won’t be necessary.” She turned to Mom. “Are you ready?”

Mom nodded. They left for the operating room.
We found the nearest waiting room, and sat.

An hour was an eternity in a hospital. I got
up and called Jacob to tell him what was up, then raided the soda
machine. Most of the status lights were red.

“Orange Crush it is.”

Dad had more coffee when I got back, and he’d
found a golf magazine. I picked up
Ladies’ Home Journal
.

At one-hour-fifteen, a nurse came to tell us
Mom was in the recovery room.

“Did they make a big hole?” Maybe not the
most polite question to start with, but I was worried about the
size of that evil thing.

She wasn’t offended. “No, honey. The tumor
was just a little larger than a shelled peanut.”

“How do you feel?” Dad asked.

“Fine. The area is still numb. She played
some nice classical music.”

He took her hand on the other side of the bed
and held it. She smiled at him.

“We can go as soon as they clear my vitals,”
she said.

“Cool.”

“I have your clothes,” he said. He looked
like he didn’t know what to do with himself in there, and found a
stool nearby and sat down.

Once they were satisfied Mom wasn’t going to
have any funky reactions, they had her go to the bathroom, then her
doctor gave her a list of instructions for wound care and a
prescription. Mom dressed in a button-down top and yoga pants, and
we went home.

She ate some toast and a handful of
strawberries, since she couldn’t have breakfast before the surgery,
and stretched out on the couch.

“What happens next?” I asked.

“My doctor wants me to call between six and
seven tonight. She’s hoping the pathologist can look at my samples
right away.”

“Yeah.” I thought she looked okay—just tired.
“Fingers crossed. Do you need anything?”

“I’m fine, honey. Go be a teenager.”

“You don’t need a blanket, or juice, or more
to eat?”

“Really. Besides, Daddy’s home today. I’ll
bug him.”

“I love you, Mom. In case I haven’t said it
recently.”

She smiled. “Love you, too, Beth. Go on.”

I went straight to Jacob’s, of course.

He answered the door. “Hey, Bethie.” We
hugged. “How’s your mum?”

“Okay. Maybe a little tired. There were no
glitches, thank God.”

“I’m glad.” He tightened the embrace, hugging
me again. “Knocked at a good time. I’ve been in the garage all
morning, and just took a break for lunch.” Two years in London had
him saying
gar
-age instead of ga
rage
.

“Explains why you’re all dusty.” And sweaty.
Eww.

“Don’t wrinkle up your cute little nose. You
love it.”