Authors: Sophie Jackson
Tate’s words eventually seeped into Riley’s consciousness, forcing him to sit up quickly. “Is he okay? Mom all right?”
Tate nodded. “The hospital just called; Mom spoke to them. He’s groggy, but he’s okay. He spoke with the nurse and the doctor is on his way to see him.”
Slumping back in relief, Riley rubbed his eyes with the back of his hands. “You’re going to the hospital?”
“Yeah. I’ll take Mom. Can you tell Seb?”
“Sure. We’ll come up later. Maybe best not to overwhelm him.”
And Riley wasn’t quite ready to see his father just yet. He would, of course, but he didn’t want to add any more tension and stress to an already emotional time. As long as he knew his parents and brothers were okay, he was happy to take a backseat. He and his father would talk, they had to, but not while he was in intensive care recovering from a second heart attack.
“Gotcha,” Tate said as he turned to leave. “I’ll call you. Maggie’s coming over with Rosie. I think she’s worried we can’t fend for ourselves.”
Riley smirked. “We’re grown men. Of course we can’t fend for ourselves.”
Once Tate and their mom had left the house, Riley made his way downstairs, brewed some coffee, and sat with his mug at the kitchen table, trying not to think about what seeing Savannah the day before had made him feel. God, she’d looked shocked as hell when she’d seen him, which shouldn’t have surprised Riley all that much—it had had been a long time since he’d traveled back to Michigan. But he couldn’t shake the feeling that there was more to it than that. Riley could have sworn he’d seen panic.
And the little boy. That was weird. Riley knew the Pierce family had moved from Traverse City not long after Riley’s last visit five years ago, but surely someone would have known about Savannah having a kid. But then, what business was it of his? None. It was none of his business. Riley sighed, glancing out the kitchen window to the yard, where the fence he’d built with his father fifteen years ago still stood tall and strong. He smiled, recollecting what had been a great day. The feelings, though, were so much more potent than usual with the previous night’s dream still tap-tapping at his brain.
The house phone ringing jolted Riley from his memories. He hopped off his stool and pulled it from its place on the wall. He had to say hello three times before there was a response.
“Riley? Riley, it’s Dex. Can you hear me?”
Riley pushed the tip of his finger into his other ear, blocking out any other sound. “Just.”
“It’s this crappy cell,” Dex grumbled. “Wait a minute.”
Riley did as he was asked, hearing white noise, a buzz, and then a beat of silence. When his brother’s voice returned to the line it was much clearer. “Jesus, man,” Riley teased. “What shitty company are you working for that your cell doesn’t work properly?”
Dex snorted. “Tell me about it. The weather’s been playing havoc with the Internet and phone lines here. Lemme tell you, for a group of computer nerds and geeks, it ain’t pretty.”
Riley leaned his forearm against the wall, realizing belatedly how nice it was to hear Dex’s voice. “How’re things apart from that? Thailand, huh?”
“Yeah,” he answered nonchalantly. “Things aren’t bad. Busy, you know? How’s Dad? I got a text from Mom saying he was awake.”
“Yeah, he woke this morning. He’s okay. Tate and Mom have gone to see him. I’m here with Seb.”
There was a sigh on the other end of the line. “I wish I were there.”
Riley nodded despite the fact that Dex couldn’t see him. “I know, man, but apart from worrying and pacing, there’s not much to be done.”
Dex huffed a laugh. “I guess. But knowing he’s ill just makes me feel even farther away from home.” He cleared his throat. “Good to speak to you, though, Riley. It’s been a while.”
Riley grimaced. “I know. We should arrange something for when you’re next in NYC.”
“Sounds like a plan, as long as you don’t take me to that club again. There are some things that can’t be unseen.”
Riley laughed at the memory of the strip joint he’d taken Dex to on Dex’s birthday two years before. His face when he’d walked in the place had been a goddamn picture, and he’d nearly had a coronary when Riley paid one of the girls for a birthday dance. Dex could drink and party with the best of them, but, of the four brothers, Dex was possibly the least open about anything sex related. And it wasn’t that he couldn’t snatch up a hot chick; he just didn’t seem interested. It was almost hilarious how oblivious the man was to the attention he got from members of the opposite sex—the geeky, glasses, tie-wearing look was apparently a turn-on.
If it hadn’t been for Riley walking in on Dex and a girl he’d met at college one time, he would have wondered if Dex even knew what to
do
with a woman.
“I’ll be good, I swear,” Riley offered.
“I’ll believe that when I see it,” Dex retorted, humor in his voice. “You still young, free, and single?”
“Yup,” Riley answered, his dream about Lexie flittering through his mind. “Best way to be, man.” Seb appeared in the kitchen doorway, hair in disarray, scratching his bare chest. Before Dex could ask any more about Riley’s relationship status, he said, “Seb’s here. You wanna talk?”
“Sure,” Dex said. “You take care, yeah?”
“Always do.” Riley passed the phone to Seb and wandered back to his stool, sipping on the coffee that had cooled. He listened to Seb’s half of the conversation and his reaction to hearing that Park was awake, until his younger brother said good-bye and hung up the phone.
“So it’s just us?” Seb asked with a yawn.
“Maggie’s coming later,” Riley said, standing and wandering over to the sink, where he placed his cup.
Seb nodded while pouring his own coffee. He leaned a hip against the counter’s edge. “So what’s the plan until then?”
Riley looked out at the blue sky. The sun was still low, but it was already getting warm through the window. It was going to be a gorgeous day. He smiled. “You feel like getting your hands dirty?”
In fairness, Park hadn’t done a bad job of fixing the roof, but there was still a lot of work to do. After clambering up the ladder to the top of the house, Riley and Seb began pulling up the damaged slate and lining, and reminisced about when they were kids. They laughed until they cried about Tate shooting himself in the ass with a pellet gun.
“I was trying to be John McClane!”
And about Dex throwing up after getting drunk when he was seventeen, and their dad making him drink more as punishment.
“Don’t you dare vomit and waste that beer, son
.
”
And about a three-year-old Seb getting a toilet-training seat stuck around his neck and the three hours it took for their mother to get it off him again.
“I am
not
taking him to the hospital with a toilet seat around his neck, Park!”
After a good few hours’ work, both of them shirtless, they lay back on the part of the roof they’d fixed and took a break. Tate texted Riley to tell them their father was being moved from ICU to high dependency, where he would stay under observation, but the surgeon was happy. It was good news, and the tightness that had wound through Riley from the minute he’d heard his father was ill eased a fraction.
“So guess who I saw at the park yesterday,” Riley said casually. Seb looked over, one eye closed against the bright sun. “Savannah Pierce.”
“No shit.”
Riley lifted his eyebrows. “Right? Kind of weird to see her there.”
“How’d she look?”
Riley exhaled an amused breath. Seb and Savannah had shared a few drink-fueled nights together during their senior year. Savannah had grown quite attached, but Seb had never been serious about her. “Shocked as hell,” Riley replied.
“No doubt, but that’s not what I meant.”
“I know.” Riley closed his eyes against the sun. “She looked good. Did you hear anything about her having a baby?”
Seb’s head snapped back as though he’d been slapped, his expression stunned. “She had a baby?”
“She was at the park with a little boy,” Riley said with a lift of his shoulders. “You didn’t hear anything?”
“Not a thing. I never heard much after they moved.”
It was what Riley had figured, and exactly what Tate had said when Riley had asked him, but it frustrated Riley all the same. He hated that he still cared so damned much, but he couldn’t adjust his feelings for Lexie any more than he could turn back time and take back everything they’d ever said to each other.
“Anyone home?”
Riley and Seb peeped over the guttering of the roof to see Maggie grinning up at them with her hands at the small of her back so her baby belly stuck out, looking even bigger. With arms in the air, singing to herself, Rosie twirled around the backyard.
“When you two body beautifuls are done sunning yourselves,” Maggie called up, “come to the kitchen. I brought Subway.”
“Love you, Mags!” the brothers yelled back in unison.
“Yeah, yeah,” their cousin grumbled, waddling her way back into the house.
· · ·
The high dependency unit was a lot more welcoming than the ICU, although Riley put that down to the palpable fear and heartache that seemed to cling to the walls of that particular part of the hospital. Not that the lavender paint and easy-smiling nurses made
him feel much better as he walked with Seb and Maggie down the HDU corridor toward his father’s room.
In fact, he felt physically sick. It wasn’t in his nature to be such a pussy, but Riley was all too aware of the shit-ton of water under this particular bridge and he wasn’t sure there was room for more. His mom greeted them all at the door of the room with hugs and cheek kisses and ushered them in, whispering words about them only staying a short time because “Daddy is still fuzzy.”
The first things Riley noticed were the wires and machines blurting out sporadic beeps and hisses that were altogether fucking terrifying. There was a patch of white bandage taped to his father’s chest and an oxygen tube fixed under his nose. The second thing that Riley noticed was how small his father looked. Small and unbearably weak. He gritted his teeth and pushed his hands into his pockets, fighting off the feeling of helplessness that crashed over him.
Seb approached the bed first, taking Tate’s place, and put his hand on Park’s forearm. “Hey, Dad.” The corner of Park’s mouth twitched as he opened his eyes before blinking in reply.
“His voice and throat are a little sore,” Joan explained. “He’s still not allowed to drink anything.”
“Hell of a way to get out of fixing the roof, huh?” Seb said. They all chuckled when Park gave a shaky thumbs-up. “Maybe do it before you get up the ladder next time.” Seb leaned over and placed a kiss on his father’s forehead.
Joan smiled and glanced at Riley, who fidgeted under her knowing look. “Riley’s here, too, Park,” she said, rubbing her hand down Riley’s arm.
Park’s tired, brown gaze slid over to their side of the room. His and Riley’s eyes met and, inexplicably, Riley’s throat became tight. “Good to see you, Dad,” he managed. It was the most cordial thing he’d said to the man in almost five years.
After a tense moment in which Joan’s grip on Riley’s arm began to tighten, Park blinked just as he had done with Seb, and dipped his chin in reply. The gesture told Riley they still had a long way to go, but it was more than Riley could have ever hoped for.
A plump nurse entered the room with a bag of fluid and squeezed past Riley and his mother. “Don’t be crowding my patient now,” she warned. “Five more minutes.”
“Nancy, this is my niece, Maggie, and these two are my other sons,” Joan told the nurse, pointing at them in turn. “Riley and Sebastian.”
Nancy eyed the two of them as she changed Park’s IV and pursed her lips. “Handsome boys,” she commented. “But pretty doesn’t make my patient better. Four minutes.”
Riley snickered into the back of his hand when he saw Tate’s finger move in a circular motion by his own temple.
“Look, why don’t we leave and get something nice for dinner, maybe have a mosey around the stores?” Maggie suggested. “I have to pick Rosie up from day care. We’ll leave you in peace, Uncle Park. Rosie is desperate to go to the Disney store.”
“Urgh, really?” Riley griped, slapping his palms to his thighs in disgust.
“What?” Maggie asked.
“Ignore him,” Tate answered with a smug grin. “He’s only sore because Disney loves Marvel. Just like I do.” He gestured to the T-shirt he was wearing that read, “Who the hell is Bucky?”
Maggie shook her head at Tate in confusion. “Who the hell
is
Bucky?”
Riley barked a laugh in Tate’s direction at the same time Seb begged, “Don’t, Mags. Please!”
“She doesn’t know who Bucky is,” Riley said with a loud snort over Seb’s pleading.
Tate smirked, crossing his arms over his chest. “She doesn’t know who Bane is, either.”
“You shut your mouth,” Riley snapped with a pointed finger at his brother before glaring at Maggie. “Are you serious? Did you not even watch
The Dark Knight Rises
? Tom Hardy!” All he got from his cousin was a vacant expression. “Jesus, Mags, how are we even related?”
Seb groaned. “Make it stop.”
“I concur,” Joan added, gently cajoling Riley toward the door while beckoning Tate over with a wave. “Go with Maggie. Sebastian can stay here with me.” She cupped Tate’s face. “You need some fresh air, sweetheart. And sitting in that chair is doing your leg no favors.”
“I’m fine, Ma,” he protested.
“That may be so, but I’m tired of your gorgeous face.”
“Pffft. I’ve seen turds more gorgeous.” Riley laughed and ducked from Tate’s fist that flew toward his bicep. “Dick move, bro,” he commented. “You know I can’t hit you back because you’re a cripple.”
“Riley!” Joan exclaimed.
“What?” Riley asked incredulously, pointing at Tate. “He’s the one who said it.”
But Tate didn’t reply, save for his laughter that echoed down the corridor.
· · ·
“This is hell,” Riley grumbled, scowling at the Avengers figurine sets packing most of the shelves in the Disney store. “I think my three-piece chicken is going to come back up.”