Love Is More Than Skin Deep (A Hidden Hearts Novel Book 4) (24 page)

I plant a symbolic kiss on the top of Shelby’s baseball cap before I declare, “I won’t argue with that
Immokalee
. Now, are you going to let me help you with your hair?”

Shelby reaches up and touches her hat as if she forgot that her hair the whole reason we began having this conversation. Abruptly, she breaks out into a fit of giggles as she declares, “I give up. It’s not as if you don’t
know
I have cancer.”
 

I knew this would be hard, but I didn’t think it would be
this
hard. Even opening the grooming kit was hard.
Dammit. Stupid, Fucking terrorists
. I can handle losing in court. If I lose in court, it generally means the facts of my case were weak or the law wasn’t on my side. To lose my baby brother to a bunch of nameless faceless terrorists — I guess they’re not really faceless any more, because I’ve seen their mug shots plastered all over the news — is a whole different kind of losing. It’s losing without reason or justification. It will never,
ever
make sense. I can’t explain it to my mom and dad and I can’t explain it to my sister and my nieces and nephews. More importantly, I can’t make sense of the senseless for my daughter, who loved her uncle with unparalleled dedication.

I can hear Callum’s teasing voice in my head as I put a new blade on the clipper. During the last haircut I gave Callum before he was killed, he warned me to keep a hunk of his hair in case he ever got famous and we had to prove we were his relatives. Of course, it didn’t exactly play out the way he planned, but in the end, investigators ended up confiscating his personal razor for DNA to help identify his body.

My hands tremble as that memory slams through my brain. I look up in the mirror and catch Shelby’s stricken gaze. “I’m sorry. This is going to cause you pain. I don’t want to hurt you,” she declares with big tears rolling down her face. “Why does this stupid disease have to hurt everyone I know?”

Her hollow voice haunts my soul. I might have a beef with terrorists half a world away, but Shelby is fighting a battle every single second of every single day right in front of me. I need to get my head in the game.

I paste a smile on my face and run my hand over my own hair as I offer, “Maybe I should shave mine off too — you know, as a show of solidarity with you. What’s good for one is good for all and all that jazz—”

Shelby looks positively horrified as she responds, “Don’t you dare! I don’t want to be reminded that my hair is gone every time I look at you. I love your hair. Don’t make that sacrifice for me. It proves nothing. It would just make me sad.”

“I guess you’re right, I didn’t think of it from that perspective. I just want you to know that I’d willingly take on this burden for you if I could,” I respond as I start to snip off locks her hair.

Shelby looks at me in the mirror with a watery smile and remarks, “One of the women from my support group had a head full of stick-straight hair before chemo. When it all grew back, she said it was a completely different color and curly. Maybe when mine grows back, it will be straight and gorgeous like Ketki’s.”

I tilt her head back and kiss her on the forehead as I respond, “You know, I don’t care. I will take you however I can get you. You will always be gorgeous to me.”

Shelby leans back against my chest with half of her head clipped and the other in complete disarray. Her eyes meet mine in the mirror. “I don’t know what it is about you, Mark Littleson, but you make me want to believe in impossible things,” she declares as a tear rolls down her cheek.

“Ditto” I whisper softly as I wipe it away with my thumb. I have nothing to add. I could not have said it better myself.

“Un-freakin-believable!” Shelby exclaims as she slams the laptop shut, causing her tea to slosh over the side of the cup.

I look up from the brief I’m outlining and ask, “What’s up?”

“I thought Kristi was supposed to be Ketki’s friend,” Shelby huffs with a scowl toward her computer.

“Last I checked that was the case,” I answer, my focus half on my work.

“Mark, you need to pay attention to this.” Shelby declares with disgust, her body vibrating with tension. “That was an email from Kristi’s mom declining Ketki’s birthday invitation, because it would be bad for her daughter’s social reputation.”

“
What
? That doesn’t sound like Vivian. The girls have played together since they were babies,” I protest.

“Well, she wasn’t quite that rude, but that’s essentially what she said,” Shelby clarifies. “Ketki’s teacher wasn’t any more encouraging. She yammered on about the classroom being a mirage of friendship for Ketki and encouraged me to look elsewhere.”

I sigh as I respond, “I should’ve known this would happen. Last year was an unmitigated disaster. I guess I was just hoping that she was becoming a little more social and making more friends. Ketki tried to warn me it wasn’t getting any better; I just wasn’t listening. Some days, I feel like the worst parent on the planet.”

Shelby shakes her head as she replies, “Mark, I am a professional, and even I didn’t realize it was quite this bad. Ketki keeps it all under wraps. She makes a few cryptic remarks here and there, but she doesn’t share much. It’s too bad that Ketki can’t hang out in-person with all of her buddies from Tristan’s beta-testing team. We all have a great time. We did a game SIM last weekend that was such a blast. Ketki is the natural leader of the group there.”

“It would take some juggling with school schedules, but why couldn’t you? Thanksgiving break is coming up,” I suggest.

Shelby’s mouth drops open as she explains, “I don’t think you understand. There are about a dozen people in that group from all over the United States. That would be unbelievably expensive. I know that you like to make sure that Ketki’s needs are met, but this would be going above and beyond.”

I sit forward in my chair as I puzzle through the idea in my head. “It wouldn’t necessarily have to be
my
dime, right? Doesn’t Tristan have that new software facility opening soon in California?

“Yes —” Shelby answers cautiously. “That’s why we’ve been testing so extensively. Tristan wants to show the new project on the big screens during the grand opening.”

I grin ear to ear as a thought occurs to me. “Problem solved. The perfect birthday party awaits. Do you know what else is in California?”

“Disneyland?” Shelby guesses with a wide smile.

“That’s true, but Ketki isn’t really a princess kind of girl. She’s more of a bookworm —

I can see the wheels turning in Shelby’s mind as she ponders my clue. The second she gets it, her face lights up with delight. “Mark, if you have her party at Universal Studios and take her to Harry Potter Land, you would be elevated to Father of the Millennium,” Shelby observes with a laugh.

I pretend to polish my fingernails on the front of my shirt as I say, “Let’s do this!”
 

I decide with finality this has to happen. “Just so you know, if I’m able to pull this one off, it will definitely be a team effort. Any ideas about how to make sure Tristan is in a really good mood?”

Shelby just rolls her eyes before she rubs her hands together, cracks her knuckles and reopens her computer. “I’ve heard a rumor that he’s really fond of his mother-in-law’s tamales.”

I LAUGH AS ONE OF Jessica’s macramé beads rolls down the aisle of the plane. “You are dealing with this so much better than I would,” I compliment as I stop the bead with my foot.

Jessica’s hands never stop moving as she repetitively ties decorative knots. She doesn’t even slow down as she answers my question, she merely shrugs. “I can’t think of a better way to get married. I take that back— Isaac and Rosa have us beat. You know, Mitch and I can’t really top Paris. Still, if you’re going to put all my friends on a big plane and fly them to California, I’m not going to complain —”

“Are you sure you want me to be one of your bridesmaids? Have you looked at me lately? I have no real hair — I only have peach fuzz,” I announce as if she can’t see what’s right in front of her.

“Peshaw, you look magnificent, just like Kelly Pickler when she donated all of her hair to charity. Come to think of it, you really
do
look like Kelly Pickler. I’m a little jealous. I’d like to get rid of this mane sometimes.”

 
I roll my eyes as I quip, “Yeah, I used to say that too, and now look what happened.”

Jessica covers her mouth in horror. “Oh man, me and big mouth. I’m sorry. You’d think I’d learn.”

“Don’t worry about it. I’m friends with Jade and you wouldn’t
believe
what comes out of her mouth—”

“Hey now! I might want to object to your characterization of me,” protests Jade as she pops a chocolate covered pretzel in her mouth and plops into the seat next to me.

 
“Did you or did you not suggest auctioning off sections of my scalp on YouTube for tattoos?” I ask pointedly.

 
“Oh come on! That was one of my best ideas ever, even Marcus thought it was a good idea!” Jade exclaims.

 
“My head is not a billboard!” I insist.

 
Yuki, the service dog Jessica is training tries to nuzzle my hand in an effort to calm me down.

 
“At the risk of sounding like Gabriel Iglesias, ‘would’ve been funny,’” interjects my sister.

 
“Right? She could’ve made some serious bank and had a radically cool statement piece at the same time,” Jade agrees. “I don’t see the problem. Her hair will grow back.”

I throw my hands up in the air in frustration as I growl, “The problem is, I have a cue ball for a head and I’m not about to let you color all over it like it’s a jack-o’-lantern for fun and profit.”

 
Ketki taps me on the shoulder before she whispers in my ear in a very loud stage whisper, “I’m not very good at this, but even
I
can tell they’re just kidding. Relax a little, it’s a party. We’re supposed to be having fun.”

“I’ve said it before, and I’ll say it again. Your friends are down-right strange,” I assert.

 
Mark slings his arm around my waist as we walk around the deserted parking lot to cool down. “Perhaps, but then again, that might be why we fit in so well — though I’m curious to know why you think so?”