Page 27 of Alex
“Whosays you have to choose?” Ian asks, and I smack him.
“Don’tpass on your whore dog ways. Kyle, spend some time with them and see who you like,not who has the biggest tits or will put out the fastest.”
“Yeah,”Ian scoffs. “Because you always choose your boyfriends based on personality.That’s why they’ve all looked like Abercrombie and Fitch models.”
“Totalcoincidence.”
Kyleand Ian talk girls and video games most of the way back. Like two little kids,they dive on the video game console as soon as they get through the door. Itreminds me that I have something for them. I slip the new game out of thedrawer and toss it on the coffee table. “Thought you might like this.”
You’dthink I gave them a new car by the looks on their faces. Since I know I’ll beinvisible to them for the next few hours, I take the opportunity to get out ofthe house. I’ve been stitched to Ian’s hip for over a week, so I’m sure he’sglad for a break too. After promising to pick up tacos for dinner, I head tothe gym to meet Parker for a workout.
“Hey,asswipe,” Parker greets. “You finally tear yourself away from playing Mr.Fix-it?”
“Why?You miss me?” I adjust the weight on the leg press and get started.
“Misskicking your ass. You want to spar after your workout?”
“Onlyif there’s an audience to watch me put you on your ass.” Laughing, he jumps onan elliptical near me. “How’s Macy?”
“She’sgood. Worshipping the ground I walk on, as always.”
“Thinkyou got that backward.”
“Ain’tthat the truth.” A smile forms on his sweaty face, and I marvel at all thechanges the past year has brought. Mason settling down with Everly was no bigsurprise. He’s always wanted to start a family of his own. But Parker tyinghimself down to one girl was a shock, proposing to her nothing short ofmiraculous. I suppose they’ll have kids before too long.
Itmakes me think of Cooper and the plans we made. Our relationship was stillpretty new, hell, we only lived together a few weeks, but he was somethingspecial. I’ve mourned Cooper, but I haven’t really mourned what we lost untilnow. The future and all the possibilities. I have to think I’ll find thosethings with another man eventually, but for some reason, the thought isdepressing.
“Findme when you’re ready to fight,” Parker says, jumping off the elliptical.
Itfeels good to get out of the house and back to the gym. After an hour longworkout, then another hour sparring with my brother—and knocking him on his asstwice I might add—I’m more than ready to go home and eat. One little detour tothe bookstore is in order, since the new Stephen King book just released.
Ianand Kyle surface from the game long enough to inhale a truckload of tacos andthen go back to it. I’m glad for the time alone and spend the rest of the nightreading.
Thehouse is quiet when I wake. They must’ve played that game all night. It’sSaturday, visiting day at the prison. I didn’t go last week since Ian neededme, but I’m going today. Can’t let the bastard forget what he has coming. Iwonder if Ian has thought anymore about getting in touch with his maternalgrandmother in Hawaii, but I imagine he’s tucked that away for now.
Theday passes quickly. I make my usual prison visit and then take Kyle to the gymfor a bit. Kyle needs a few school supplies, and Ian accompanies us to the mallwhere they eat their weight in Cinnabons. We catch a movie before going home.It all seems so normal considering the last week, and what’s to come in thenext one. Ian and I drop Kyle back at school on Sunday and make it home in theearly evening.
Ianpours a tumbler of bourbon and flops onto the couch. I’m met with a glare whenI pluck the glass from his hand and replace it with a bottle of water. “Youdon’t need to go into tomorrow dehydrated or hungover. You have to take care ofyourself.”
Cursing,he flips on the T.V. but doesn’t really watch it. His eyes wander away as hebecomes lost in his thoughts, worrying about tomorrow. “Hey,” I grab his footthat’s been bouncing nonstop for ten minutes. “Are you okay?”
“Fine.”He scoops up the remote and surfs through the channels without payingattention.
“Whatworries you the most?”
“Idon’t know. I just don’t want to end up all skinny and frail. You’ve seen otherchemo patients. They look like they’re dying, or wish they were.”
“Youonly have one cycle. One dose of one medication. I’m not saying the next coupleof days won’t be miserable and hard, but you’re talking about people who havehad months of chemotherapy. You won’t be like that.”
Fearbattles hope in those oil drop eyes. “You think so?”
“Yes.One thing at a time, remember? Right now, you need to try to sleep. Tomorrow,you let them give you an IV. Try not to think past that.” I squeeze hisshoulder. “I have a Valium if you want it. Help you fall asleep.” My doctorgave them to me after Cooper died, but I didn’t use the whole script, and Ithink Ian could use one tonight.
“Yeah,thanks, that’ll help.” Apparently it does, because an hour later, he’s snoringaway on the couch.
Ianis too nervous to eat the next morning, but it’s probably a good thing since wedon’t know how nauseous the drug will make him. He doesn’t say much until weget to the chemotherapy day clinic. One look at the patients in the waitingroom and I can feel him ready to flee. A young woman, twenty-five at most,gives a sympathetic smile. A purple scarf is wrapped around her bald head andher sunken eyes and skinny body tell the story of her suffering.
Anelderly couple sit together, talking in low voices, the port in the man’s chestvisible above the neck of his t-shirt.
