“What do you write?” I ask.
He shrugs again. “Just journal stuff,” he says. “They had me start doing it when they thought I was going to die.” He chuckles, but it’s a sound with no humor.
I pull the spoon out of my mouth. This really is good ice cream. “You’re better now, right?”
“As far as I know,” he says. “I have to go back next week for tests.”
“Oh.” I don’t know what to say.
“Can I ask you something?” he says, and he winces as he asks.
“I guess so.”
“What you feel for Pete,” he says, “is it truly affection? Or is it gratitude?”
I choke on my ice cream. It won’t go down. When I finally get through it, I say, “I can’t define it that easily.”
“Try,” he says. “He’s my brother. I’m worried.”
I point the spoon toward my chest. “About me?”
“Yeah,” he grunts. “My little brother is in love,” he says. He smiles softly. “I’m happy for him, but I still don’t want to see him get hurt.”
“I don’t want to see that, either.” The ice cream churns in my gut. “We’re still figuring things out.”
He smiles. “Glad to hear it.” He clears his throat. “I’ve seen Pete with a lot of women but never with one he looks at like he looks at you.”
Wow. I don’t know how to respond.
“Just be careful with him, okay?” he says.
A door closes down the hallway, and I hear the rapid slaps of little feet. A tiny blonde stands in the hallway and looks around the corner at me. She’s wearing Tinker Bell pajamas. “Hi,” I say. I look toward Matt, but he just chuckles.
“You’re not supposed to be up,” he says. He motions her forward, and she settles in his lap. “I think she can smell ice cream from a mile away.” He laughs and brushes her hair from her face with gentle fingers.
“Is she yours?” I ask.
He laughs. “She’s Paul’s. She lives here every other week. She was already in bed when you got here.” He bumps his knee under her bottom and says, “Can you tell her what your name is?”
“My name is Hayley,” she says. She licks her lips and looks into his bowl. He heaves a sigh and passes her his spoon but he’s smiling.
“Hayley, this is Reagan. She’s Pete’s girl.”
My heart swells at his words. “It’s nice to meet you,” I say.
She doesn’t look up from the ice cream until the spoon clanks against the empty bowl.
“You better go back to bed before your daddy sees you’re missing,” he says. He sets her down, and she kisses his cheek quickly. Then she runs back down the hallway and creeps slowly into her room.
“She’s adorable,” I say.
“Adorable is not the right word for Hayley,” he says with a laugh. “She’s five going on fifteen.”
“Do you have any kids?” I ask.
His blue eyes meet mine, and they’re full of sadness. “Kids aren’t in the cards for me. I’d love to have some, but after my treatment, there’s not a very good chance of that.” He brushes his hair back and resecures it with the rubber band. “So, I get to spoil Hayley. Paul would kill me if she knew she was up eating ice cream in the middle of the night.”
I take my bowl and his to the sink and rinse them out. “Thanks for the ice cream. And for helping with Maggie,” I say.
“There’s a lady who was in my chemical trial. She’s dying.” He looks around like he doesn’t know where to settle his eyes. “Her son called today and asked if I wanted to come to see her.”
“Are you going?” I ask.
“I’m too f**king scared to look my mortality in the face,” he says. “That could be me.” He drums his thumb on the table, his palm flat. “I’m a chickenshit. And a terrible friend.” He shakes his head, like a dog shaking water from its fur. If only it were that easy.
“Do you want some company when you go?” I ask. “I could go with you.”
His gaze leaps to mine.
“I mean, I could wait in the waiting room.”
He nods. “Maybe.” He smiles. “Thanks for the offer.”
He comes forward and grabs my arm, squeezing it gently as he walks by me. And I don’t freak out or feel like I need to hit him. Maybe it’s just him. He seems like a good guy. One of the best, probably. He’s been through a lot.
“Good night,” he says quietly.
“’Night,” I say.
I cluck my tongue at Maggie, and she follows me into the bedroom, where I close and lock the door. I shrug out of my clothes and slide into bed with Pete. He pulls me to him immediately, and I roll forward, putting my face against the light dusting of hair on this chest. “You’re cold,” he says.
“Maggie needed to go out,” I explain.
He lifts his head. “You didn’t go out alone, did you?” he asks.
“Matt went with me.” I yawn.
“Oh, okay,” he hums. He grabs my leg and pulls it over his hip, and my nak*d girl parts are right beside his nak*d boy parts. But I’m not worried, not even when I realize his parts are reaching toward mine. He kisses my forehead and murmurs, “Go back to sleep.”
I close my eyes and snuggle into him. He’s quiet and still when I say, “I love you, Pete.”
“I love you, too,” he says, his voice husky from sleep but clear. I smile and find the sweet spot where my head fits best.
Pete
I sit on the couch with Maggie at my feet. She’s not well. She hasn’t been able to stand up this morning, and so I just sit and pet her and talk to her about Reagan.
“This doesn’t look good,” Paul says, eyeing Maggie. He’s worried since Hayley is here and he doesn’t want her to mess with Maggie. It’s hard to tell a five-year-old to leave the dog alone.
“I know. I made an appointment for nine a.m.,” I say. “I just need to go and wake Reagan up.”
“Does she know how bad it is?” he asks. He’s making breakfast for Hayley, and he stops every few minutes to dance around the kitchen with her.
“I doubt it,” I grunt. “She was walking around just fine yesterday.”
“You had better go and wake her up or you’re going to be late,” Paul warns. Paul’s the timekeeper of the family.
Sam starts to put his shoes on. “I’m going with you,” he says.
“Do you want me to go, too?” Matt asks.
“Neither of you needs to go,” I remind them. “Why don’t you stay here and make a cake or something, Sam?” I ask. She might need cheering up when we come back.
He shrugs. “Okay.”
But Matt gets ready to with us, and he comes to take my place petting Maggie while I go get Reagan. I step into the room and close the door behind me. She’s kicked the covers down so that one of her boobs is exposed. Her skin is pale where her bathing suit covers her, and she has tan lines that I want to trace with my tongue. But not right now.
I sit down on the side of the bed and give her a gentle shake. “Reagan,” I say quietly. Her eyes open slowly, and she stretches, her lips spreading into a smile. “Good morning,” I say. I’m hard. I admit it. I’m a guy and she’s nak*d and she came on my face last night. So, yeah, I have to adjust my junk. This isn’t the time.
“Morning,” she says, her voice hoarse from sleep.
“You need to get up,” I say. “I made an appointment for Maggie this morning at nine at the vet.”
“She still acting tired?” she asks. She sits up on the side of the bed, holding the covers up over her br**sts.
It’s worse than her being tired. I’m sure of it. “Yeah.”
“Okay,” she says, covering a yawn. She looks at her clothes lying across the room.
“Do you need clothes out of the car?” I ask.
She shakes her head. “I just need to get dressed and brush my teeth.”
“I’ll give you a few minutes,” I say. But what I really want to do is stay and watch her get dressed. And then undress her and do it all over again.
I walk out and Matt’s got Maggie in his lap. She doesn’t look that bad, but she’s tired. I can tell. This is a big deal. She threw up again and again last night, more than Reagan probably is even aware of. Reagan comes out a few minutes later with her hair pulled into a ponytail. She slips into the bathroom, and I hear her brushing her teeth.
She comes out, and I stand up with Maggie in my arms. “I’ll carry her down,” I say.
“She can walk, can’t she?”
I shake my head, and I see Reagan’s features cloud with worry. I start toward the door, and she follows. Matt goes with us. Reagan climbs into the backseat of her Camry, and I put Maggie in her lap. I toss the keys to Matt, and he drives so I can sit with Reagan. Reagan coos at her dog, talking softly to her about how she is going to get some vitamins and then they would go home. But I doubt that’s going to be the case.
We get to the vet’s office, and they put us in a room. The vet comes in and does a quick exam. She takes Maggie to the back for pictures and tests. She doesn’t have Maggie with her when she returns. She has her vet’s face on. “I’m sorry. I don’t have good news,” she says quietly.
Reagan covers her mouth with her hand, and a sound escapes her lips. I pull her into my side. I had a feeling this was coming. “Maggie is fifteen years old. That’s pretty old for her breed.”
“She was fine yesterday,” Reagan protests.
“She wasn’t,” the vet says, shaking her head. “She has a mass in her abdomen. It’s really big, and it’s so big that it has ruptured, so she’s bleeding into her belly. I’m very sorry.”
Reagan looks at me, her eyes gleaming with hope. “So, you take the mass out, right?”
The vet shakes her head. “I’m sorry, but this isn’t something that we can fix. I recommend that you put her to sleep.”
“When?” Reagan asks. She thinks Maggie still has time.
“Now,” she says. “Making her wait isn’t humane.”
A strangled noise comes out of Reagan’s mouth, and I pull her to me, but she shoves me away and walks to stand in the corner of the room. She paces back and forth. Then she stops. “There’s nothing you can do?” she asks, her voice small.
“I’m sorry. There’s nothing.” The vet is being as sympathetic as possible. “Do you want me to go to get her so that you can say good-bye?”
Tears roll down Reagan’s face, and I catch Matt wiping one of his own. He doesn’t even know the f**king dog and Reagan has him crying over her. But that’s Matt. “Yes, please,” Reagan whispers.
A few minutes later, they bring Maggie back, strapped to a board, and she’s lying there quietly. She doesn’t look unhappy at all, but looks can be deceiving.