Forever Loved (The Forever Series) (18 page)

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.