Unforgettable: Always 2 (16 page)

Julie laughed. “He’s just making sure your first time is memorable. Ready?”

A sense of dread rolled over me. I stared at the change table, took a deep breath – holy crap, was
that
a bad idea – and walked over to it. The whole process wasn’t pretty. But I think I did myself proud. Despite the fact Tanner decided to urinate, mid-change, as I was wiping at the toxic waste clinging to his butt and groin, his aim exquisitely on target with my cheek, it wasn’t the abject disaster I feared it would be. I gagged all the way through it. And laughed. And winced. And cowered. Julie, helpful to the
nth
degree, pointed out every bit I missed, offering words of encouragement the whole time, even as she tried desperately not to laugh at me.

Tanner thought it a riot.

Thank God I’ve got quick reflexes, because he did his best to roll onto his stomach and scramble off the table as I was attempting to fasten his new, clean nappy, giggling the whole way of course. I snared him by the ankle with a gentle hand, returned him to his back and arched an eyebrow at him, adjusting his oxygen tube beside him. “You’re not making this easy, buddy.”

He wriggled and grinned. “Pooey.”

“Hey,” I grinned back. “I wasn’t that bad.”

“You did well,’ Julie agreed, bestowing on me the kind of smile I’ve seen proud grandparents give when a grandchild stops picking their nose when asked.

I know it sounds ridiculous, but I felt like I’d conquered the world. Still felt that way even as I stood in the small bathroom, washing my hands and cleaning my cheek of wee.

It wasn’t until I was helping Tanner back into his PJ bottoms, him standing on the change table holding my shoulders, Julie supporting his back with a steady hand, that it registered with me just how thin he was. Toddlers’ legs are meant to be chubby. Tanner’s legs …

A dull sadness crept through me and, swallowing, I looked up and brushed a shaking finger down the length of his little nose. “I’m not going to fail you again, Tanner,” I said, my voice barely more than a croak. “Now I’m here, I’ll do whatever it takes to make sure
you’re
here as well. We’re both here for the long run, buddy. The long run.” I nudged his forehead with mine, my throat suddenly very thick. “Okay?”

Small hands tapped my shoulders. “’Sokay.”

“It’s okay by me, too,” Amanda said behind me.

I straightened from Tanner, shooting her a look over my shoulder. “You missed the fun.” I felt shaky. My voice sure as hell sounded that way.

Crossing the room to us, Amanda gave me a warm smile. “Seems that way.” She touched her fingers to the small of my back, and traced them up my spine. It was a caress she’d given me almost every day we’d been together in Australia, a connection of nerves and senses that had always filled me with elemental joy. “So, Julie, how’d he do?”

Julie bestowed another one of those grandmotherly proud smiles on me. “Very well. His technique is interesting … and he needs to learn how to duck, but he did well.”

Amanda pressed a hand to her mouth, her eyes dancing. “Did Tanner … Did you …”

I grimaced, and then laughed. “Yep. Right on the cheek.”

“Pee!” Tanner crowed enthusiastically.

“Well,” said Julie, rubbing her hands together, “seeing as the crisis is dealt with, I shall get back to the desk. Tanner, take care of your mommy and daddy for me, okay?”

He patted my shoulder again. “Da ’sokay.”

Julie smiled at me. “That he is.” And she left us.

Still supporting Tanner on the change table, I shot Amanda a quick smile. I felt nervous.

“Very okay,” she whispered, tracing my spine again with her fingers.

Pulse crazy wild, I lowered my face to hers and kissed her. A soft, gentle kiss that promised her I was never going anywhere. She answered with a softer groan, her fingers skimming my jaw. In that touch, her own promise.

“Mommy,” Tanner said, a second before he grabbed a fistful of my hair and tugged.

I pulled away from Amanda, a little, and gave him a grin. “Okay, okay, I get the point.”

He looked at me for a stern moment and then said, “Cookie?”

Amanda let out a wobbly chuckle, scooped him from the table and hugged him. “Let’s see what we can do about that, hmm?”

Three cookies later Parker Waters entered. I was licking chocolate and crumbs from my fingers when he wandered in. Honestly, I don’t remember the last time I’d actually eaten a cookie, let alone one full of chocolate chips. Damn, it tasted good.

“Pa!’ Tanner greeted Parker. “Cookie!”

Parker dropped himself into the biggest chair and leaned his elbows on his knees. “Chocolate chip?”

Tanner nodded.

Parker looked around the room, melodramatic confusion on his face. His glasses, I was happy to see, were no longer askew. “And I missed them?”

Tanner sighed. “’Sokay.”

“Y’know what,” Parker said to him. “It
is
okay. How about you, Superman? Are you okay?”

Tanner giggled, leaning back into my chest as he did so.

Settling back in the chair, Parker threaded his hands behind his head and focused his gaze on me. “So, big guy, you want to give your parents a call in Australia?”

I straightened. “There’s a way they can be tested?”

“There is. Simple. Same way as we do it here. They have to go to a hospital, of course, and I’ll need to speak to the oncologist ordering the test, but once they’re done, it’ll just be the same waiting time for the results as yours.”

“Excellent.” I let out a breath. “I’ll call now. Mum knows all about blood tests. She’s a nurse at the Sydney Children’s Hospital.”

Parker’s eyebrows rose. “Is she now? Is she good? We’re always looking for good nurses here at New Dawn.”

Passing Tanner to Amanda, I dug my phone from my pocket and grinned. “She’s good. But getting her to move from Australia might be tricky.”

“We have
Ben and Jerry’s
over here,” Parker offered with a hopeful look.

As I dialed Mum, I gave him back a sympathetic one. “She’s a pavlova kind of girl.”

The call went straight to Mum’s voicemail. I left a message. It’s not easy doing something like that over the phone to a machine – asking your parents if they’ll take a test to see if they’re a bone-marrow match for their unexpected grandson – but I did it because I had to. Mum would have been pissed at me if I didn’t. She had, after all, offered to fly over when she’d found about Tanner.

Ending the call, I gave Amanda a steady look. She smiled back at me. I could see hope in her eyes. Reaching for her hand, I squeezed her fingers. Told her without words I was going to make it all okay.

“So what’s next?” I asked Parker.

He removed his glasses, cleaned them on his jacket lapel, and returned them, upside-down. “Something’s wrong,” he said to Tanner.

Tanner laughed. A quiet one. He was snuggled into Amanda’s chest, his cheek resting on her breast, his breathing shallower than I’d noticed before. “Lasses,” he whispered, touching the space between his eyes.

I couldn’t help but feel a sense of unease at how quickly he’d grown tired.

“Ah.” Parker nodded sagely. “My head is on upside-down, isn’t it?”

Tanner’s answering giggle was softer again. He coughed weakly at the end and rubbed at his eyes. For the first time since walking into his room this morning, I saw pain on his face. My gut clenched.

“I think it’s time this little tough guy got some sleep,” Amanda murmured, smoothing her hand over his head. “Bren, can you buzz the nurse, please?”

I did as she asked. By the time Julie returned to our room, Tanner was almost asleep in Amanda’s arms.

“Brendon?” Parker said. “Can I have a word?”

I’ve seen enough movies to know when a doctor says that, it’s not good. Chest tight, I pressed my own kiss to the top of Amanda’s head – thankful she seemed distracted with Tanner – and followed Parker from the room. We stopped a few feet out into the corridor.

The lights, I noticed, were dim. The rooms around us were quiet. The only sounds to be heard were soft murmurs wafting from the nurse’s station at the end of the corridor and the ubiquitous beeps and whirs of medical machines. Nighttime had come to the hospital, and while the doctors and nurses didn’t sleep, their charges, the children in their care, did.

“Okay.” Parker turned to me, the serious doctor I’d met during my blood test once more. “I need to let you know that if either of your parents are not a match, we are starting to reach a critical stage. Unfortunately, Tanner’s tests today show a rapid increase in malignant cells in his body. He’s only just completed a round of chemotherapy and is currently too weak for radiation therapy.”

“So …” I fought for words. My head roared, rebelling against what Parker had just said. I processed it, unpacked it. The only way I could move forward was to focus on the result I wanted. I had to ignore the fear trying to claim me. “Even if Mum or Dad are a match, they’ve got to get here. That’ll take at least twenty-four hours. Will he … is that too long?”

Parker put a hand on my arm and shook his head. “No. But we
are
running out of time. Unfortunately, Tanner had the illness for a long time before he was diagnosed. We’re fighting a battle against a very aggressive disease, big guy. I have to tell you this, as his father, you have to be aware of where we are.”

A dull pressure worked its way through me, from my temples, down through my throat, my chest, to my gut. I nodded. “Do you want me to tell Amanda?”

Parker shook his head again. “No. Tonight I want you to keep doing what you’re doing now. Be there for her. Let’s see what happens after—”

My phone vibrated in my pocket.

I scrambled for it, glad I’d set it to silent after leaving my message for Mum. The last thing I wanted was “Eye of the Tiger” blaring through the quiet ward, disturbing everyone. I swiped my thumb over the screen and pressed it to my ear. “Mum.”

“Brendon, I’ve started the official process on my end,” she answered, all business. When Mum put her nurse’s hat on, she didn’t waste time with greetings or platitudes. “Can you send me this Dr. Parker Waters’ contact—”

“He’s right in front of me, Mum.” I handed the phone to Parker. “Ready to meet my mum?”

Taking my phone, he brought it to his ear and half turned away. “Mrs. Osmond?”

I didn’t stay to listen. Maybe I should have, but the conversation about to take place would achieve what it was meant to achieve without me standing there listening. What I wanted to do, what I
needed
to do, was be in the room with Amanda and Tanner.

That simple.

If time was running out for us, I wasn’t going to waste it by standing in a corridor listening to a nurse and a doctor talk. I walked back into my son’s room and moved to where Amanda stood beside his bed, watching him sleep. Without a word, I smoothed my hand around her back and drew her into my side. She dropped her head to my shoulder, even as she pinched at her thumbnail.

In his cot, Tanner slept. Tubes and IVs were once again connected to the PICC in his arm. I don’t know what they were feeding into his body, but I fucking prayed whatever it was, it would take away the pain I’d seen on his face earlier. Occasionally he coughed. His breathing was wheezier than it had been. The dark smudges under his closed eyes were darker. His pallor was worse, now he looked anemic.

“He’s tough,” Amanda whispered.

I wondered who she was uttering the words for – me or herself? I smoothed my hand up her back, kneading the base of her skull with gentle fingers. “He is tough. And so are you.”

She lifted her face to mine. “If I ask you to kiss me again, will you?”

I lowered my head to hers. “You don’t have to ask.”

I brushed my lips over hers. She sighed into the kiss, and then, when I straightened, nestled her head into the space beneath my chin and snaked her arms around my torso.

We stood that way for a long time. Watching Tanner sleep. Holding each other.

Julie came back into the room I don’t know how long later.

“I think you two need to either go home or sit down,” she whispered as she placed my phone on the table – Parker had obviously finished talking with my mum – “I don’t want to be stitching one of you up because you’ve fallen asleep standing up and cracked your head open on the floor.” She began to check Tanner’s IV.

Amanda let out a soft chuckle, disengaged from my arms, threaded her fingers through mine and drew me over toward the two armchairs. I didn’t argue or suggest we go back to her apartment. I didn’t want to be anywhere else but there.

Finished with her check, Julie turned an understanding smile to us. “Want a pillow?”

“I’m good,” I answered, resting my hand on Amanda’s back as she curled into a ball in her chair.

Julie smiled again and left.

“You
are
good, Bren,” Amanda whispered.

I looked down at her, finding her gazing up at me, her cheek on the arm of her chair, her lips curled in a sleepy smile. “Too good for me.”

I smoothed my hand over her back and gave her a playful grin. “Hell yeah, I am,” I whispered back. “Unfortunately, you’re stuck with me so quit your complaining.”

She laughed quietly, closed her eyes, and was asleep.

I returned my gaze to our sleeping son, and for the first time in my life, prayed to God. And as I fell asleep, I wished there was some bloody way to know he’d been listening.

A gentle shake of my knee woke me.

Squinting and blinking, completely disoriented, I shifted in the chair. Why was I in a chair?

Electronic beeps and mechanical-breathing sounds scratched at my ears. So did a female voice murmuring, “Brendon. Brendon, there’s someone here to see you.”

I blinked again, my vision slowly coming into focus. Man, I felt like I’d been hit by a bus.

“Brendon?” The hand on my knee shook a little harder. “There’s a Maci and Raphael at Reception. They say they’ve flown in from—”

“Plenty, Ohio,” I croaked, repositioning myself. I squinted up at the unfamiliar nurse hovering over me, her hand still on my knee.

A small smile tugged at the corners of her lips. “That’s it.”

I did that weird lip-smacking thing people do when woken abruptly from a deep sleep, wiped at my mouth and swung my head – damn, it felt wobbly – to look down at Amanda. She was still sound asleep.

“What time is it?” I asked the new nurse, my voice husky.

“Two am. I’m sorry I had to wake you. But they say they’re here to be tested to see if they’re a match for Tanner.” She frowned, removing her hand from my knee and straightening. “They’re at Reception right now.”

Sliding my hand from Amanda’s back, I slowly unfurled from the chair. Every muscle in my body ached. The bones in my back cracked.

The new nurse frowned some more. “I really am sorry for waking you.”

“Don’t be.” I fisted my hands at the small of my back, stretched once, twice, and then looked over to where Tanner still slept, curled on his side, his thumb in his mouth. “I’m glad you did.”

We walked from the room, the nurse – Melinda, her badge said – beside me. “I’ll let Amanda know where you are if she wakes,” she said, as I headed for the exit.

I moved through the quiet hospital. I passed more than one parent: quiet fathers, mothers, pacing the silent corridors. Every time we’d make brief eye contact, sharing a connection in those few seconds, a mutual understanding of the heartache behind our presence there, offering wordless strength with a simple nod.

It wasn’t until I’d arrived at the entry foyer that it occurred to me I probably looked a complete mess. I was long overdue for a shave and some personal grooming. I genuinely had no idea when I’d last cleaned my teeth. In the plane? Before turbulence hit? I think …

“Brendon!” A small, warm body slammed into me before I made it halfway across the foyer. Surprisingly strong arms wrapped around me.

I staggered back a step or two – I’m blaming jetlag. Or sleep deprivation. But I recovered enough to lift Maci off the floor and spin her around once. “Plenty, Ohio,” I said, dropping her to her feet and smiling widely at her. “I’d kick your arse for flying out here if I didn’t want to kiss you so much for doing so.”

“Ease up, Osmond,” Raphael Jones, fellow Australian and all-round good guy, appeared behind Maci, his expression stern, his hand extended. “No one’s kissing Maci but me, got it?”

I took his hand and shook it. Shook it hard. Not because he was the guy who’d taken the only other girl I’d ever loved away from me, but because he was here to hopefully save my son. Maci’s Parkinson’s disease would automatically cancel her out, which meant they were here so Raph could be tested. He didn’t have to do that. Not at all. But here he was. Because he was my friend.

“Jones,” I said, curling my arm around Maci and pulling her into my side. “I wish I could tell you … There’s no real words to say how much I appreciate …”

He shut down my woeful attempt at saying thank you with a grunt and wave of his hand. “You’d do it for us. I know that.”

“What do we have to do?” Maci asked.

I noticed her left hand was trembling. Stress or exhaustion exacerbated the symptoms of her Parkinson’s, and a hot finger of guilt traced up my spine at the sight.

“You know what?” I answered, my voice suddenly strained. “For this very second, I think what I need more than anything else is a hug from you.” I flicked Raph a sheepish grin. “Sorry about this, Jones.”

He grunted out a laugh. “Go for it.”

I wrapped Maci completely in my arms and hugged her. An eyes-closed, cheek-pressed-to-her-head, breath-deep-and-slow hug.

“Missed you, Plenty,” I murmured. “It’s good to see you.”

Maci hugged me back, tightening her arms around my torso and squeezing. “Ditto, Uni Fitness Manager,” she murmured back.

“Alright, alright,” Raph chuckled, extracting Maci from my embrace. “My turn.”

He hugged me. I didn’t know what to do for a second. Raphael Jones was not a hugger. But there he was, giving me a hard hug, followed by a hard slap on the back. By the time I’d recovered enough from the shock, he’d released me and was sliding his arm around Maci’s shoulders. Maci, for her part, looked like she was about to cry, or burst out laughing, I couldn’t decide which. I don’t think she could either.

“So, what do we do now?” Raph echoed her earlier question. “Who do I need to see? Where do I need to go?”

Scraping at my hair, I let out a shaky breath. My heart was making itself known in my chest again. Adrenaline, I guess. My body was preparing for the emotional rollercoaster to come as we waited for the results of Raph’s blood test. “To be honest, at this time of night, I don’t know.”

Holding up a finger, I crossed to the receptionist.

She offered me a warm smile. “I’ve let Dr. Waters know about your friends’ arrival, Mr. Osmond. He’s on his way in now.”

Man, the people who worked at this place were amazing. “Now?”

She nodded. “It will take him about an hour to get here. You’re more than welcome to take your friends to the cafeteria, if you like. I’ll tell him where you are when he gets here.”

“Thank you.”

“You’re welcome,” the receptionist answered.

The fact Parker was on his way stirred something dark and bleak inside me. I know he hadn’t been lying when he’d described Tanner’s condition as becoming critical, but the fact he was going to come in for a blood test that someone else surely would have been able to perform, told me just how critical. A powerful urge to return to Amanda and Tanner rushed through me. Churned my gut so much it hurt.

“If Tanner’s mum comes looking for me, can you let her know where I am, please?”

She smiled, her expression warm and compassionate. “I can, Mr. Osmond.”

Drawing a deep breath, I turned back to Maci and Raph. “C’mon, I’ll buy us all a jam donut.”

Maci’s eyebrows shot up. “You’re going to eat a jelly donut?”

I chuckled. “I said I was going to buy them. Didn’t say I was going to
eat
one.”

I walked them to the all-night cafeteria. Like the corridors, there were mothers and fathers here, sitting alone, silently dealing with their reason for being here, perhaps talking to whatever God they believed in, maybe making deals, striking bargains …

What was my bargain? Had I reached that stage? I think I had. I’d promised to look after Amanda and Tanner, to never turn my back on them, if Tanner went into remission. Was that bargaining? I’d promised to put aside my plans for
Push It P/T
and focus on being a father, a partner … maybe even one day a husband.

I’d done that. Was that my personal bargaining? And if so, did it count, given I’d never really put any faith in the concept of God before. I wasn’t raised an atheist, religion just wasn’t part of my upbringing. My dad was an architect, and too much a pragmatist to waste time in church, and Mum never made a big deal of it, despite the fact I know she went to a Catholic high school. But perhaps when faced with the death of your child, a slow, hideous, painful death that made no sense or seemed to serve no purpose, we turn to other things that make no sense for help.

“Tell me about Tanner.”

Maci’s soft request brought me back to the cafeteria. I slouched deeper in my seat. “He’s incredible,” I answered, unable to stop my smile. “Tough. Huge Optimus Prime fan.”

“The most noble of Autobots,” Raph declared, placing the three coffees he’d just bought on the table and lowering into the seat next to Maci.

I arched an eyebrow at him. “Didn’t know you were a
Transformers
geek, Jones?”

He slid one of the coffees across to me. “You haven’t seen my tattoo?”

Maci laughed. “Idiot.”

He grinned at her. “Maybe.”

I watched them, overcome with a feeling of sheer joy at their obvious love for each other. Theirs was a real-life Happy Ever After. The future that lay ahead for both of them wasn’t pretty; Maci’s Parkinson’s would make certain of that. But that didn’t stop Raph loving her, wanting to be there with her for the rest of their lives.

Unconditional love
. That’s how he’d described it to me once over the phone, when I’d asked him how it was going. He’d just moved to the States to be with her, leaving behind his dreams of running the cattle property that had been in his family for over two hundred years. He’d changed his life for Maci, and would love her forever, care for her, despite what lay ahead of them. It was beautiful to witness, sitting here now with them, experiencing that open love …

Ah, fuck, it made me ache for my own Happy Ever After even more. An unforgettable one, one that would rock the very world with its perfection. Me, Amanda, Tanner … and maybe one day, another little person …

“Don’t mean to get soppy here for a sec, mate,” I said, fixing Raph with a steady look, “but I really am grateful for what you’re offering to do for us.”

Us
. I think it was the first time I’d used the collective noun when talking to someone to describe me, Amanda and Tanner. The weight of the word pressed on me, a wonderful pressure I willingly bore.

Raph nodded. “No worries,” he answered.

Done. Just like that. No more words needed. Maci reached across the table and squeezed my hand. I flipped it over and squeezed hers back.

“Now,” she smiled, “fill us is on the whole story.”

And so I did. From the first time I met Amanda on the ski slopes in Australia, to the day she ended our relationship, to the morning I arrived in LA, to now.

They commented occasionally. Maci said she completely understood Amanda’s reason for ending our relationship. “Remember,” she pointed out, “I know all about the fear of dooming the future of the person I love. It may not make any sense to anyone else, but that fear has a powerful grip on rationality. To an outsider, we look a little unhinged and selfish. To us it’s the most logical thing in the world.” She gave a sheepish shrug, and flicked Raph a wry smile. “Until the person we love smacks us in the face and makes us wake up to ourselves.”

Raph chuckled, brushed the back of his knuckles over her cheek and then tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. “Took bloody long enough with you.”

She shrugged again. “Yeah. Sorry about that.”

I could see Raph didn’t agree at all with Amanda’s reasoning for not letting me know about Tanner’s birth, but as was his way, he kept his opinion to himself. What he did do was agree her father was a dick. It may be infantile, but I felt so much better for that support.

I was filling them in on Robby Aames when a warm hand smoothed over my back.

“Hi,” Amanda’s husky voice sounded at my shoulder a heartbeat before she lowered herself into the empty seat beside me. She smiled, first at me, then at Maci and Raph. “I’m Amanda.”

I watched Maci and Raph suss her out, their silent inspections lasting a fraction of a second but no doubt forming a lasting impression. Did they see what I saw when I looked at her – a beautiful, sensitive young mother fighting to stay sane, to stay calm in the face of real and horrific trauma? Did they see her warmth, her compassion, her strength?

Or did they see a manipulative woman who’d done me wrong? Who now sat at the table uninvited, her hair a mess, her clothes crumpled, looking like an extra in a bad medical drama?

“Hi Amanda,” Maci spoke first and I think I damn near laughed with relief at the friendly warmth in her voice. “I’m Maci. This is Raph. We’re friends of Brendon’s.”

Raph extended his hand across the table. “G’day, Amanda.”

Amanda raised her eyebrows at me before taking his hand and shaking it. “Another Australian?”

Raph chuckled. “Yeah. Don’t hold that against me though.”

Amanda laughed, giving me a sideways grin. “I’ll try not to.”

“Raph and Maci live in Plenty, Ohio,” I said. “They’ve flown here so Raph can be tested to see if he’s a match.”

Amanda’s face flooded with a whole myriad of emotions, from confusion to stunned disbelief, before contorting into the most heartbreaking mix of gratitude and misery I’ve ever seen.

“Oh my God,” she whispered, covering her mouth with a shaking hand. Tears glistened in her eyes as she locked her stare on Raph. “Oh my God, I don’t …” She stopped. A fat tear spilled from her eye and ran down her cheek. She swiped at it with the back of her hand, still staring at Raph. “Thank you.”

“Now …” Raph began.

The sharp clattering of Amanda’s chair tumbling to the floor shattered the room, a split second before she ran around the table and enveloped Raph’s head and upper body in a hug.

“Thank you,” she repeated, the words choked with tears.

Raph reached up and rubbed her back. I know Raphael Jones well. He’s not a fan of invasion of his personal space, but he didn’t seem to be fazed at all by Amanda’s abrupt embrace. “It’s all good,” he answered. “I pray I’m a match.”

“God willing,” Parker Waters’ voice sounded on my right.

I turned in time to see him grab a chair from the table next to ours and pull it over. He sat down, straddling it. Today his green-framed glassed were replaced with red-framed ones, and his hair stuck out from his head in a spiky mess. He wore faded gray sweatpants with HARVARD printed down one leg, and an equally faded Hawaiian-print shirt. I noticed the buttons were misaligned. I also noticed the flip-flops on his feet were mismatched.

Here was a man who either had rushed to get dressed before leaving home … or didn’t give a toss about his appearance. From my experience with Parker, it could be either option.

“So?” He folded his arms over the back of the chair and peered at Maci and Raph over the top of his glasses. “I’ve been told one of you has Parkinson’s. Who is it?”