Fit for Love (A Stand By Me Novel Book 3) (17 page)

“Mr. Alesini?” The same nurse stands in the open doorway. “I’ll take you back to talk to the surgeon.”

I walk to the doorway, a spring in my step. I’m glad this is finally over. Hospitals should install fitness rooms so people can work off nervous energy or at least stay healthy during the wait.

It doesn’t take long to follow the nurse down the short hallway to a side room marked “Family Waiting.” I take a seat in one of the three chairs.

“Mr. Alesini?” A tall, thin man in scrubs enters and sits in a remaining chair. “I’m Dr. Morton.”

He folds his hands together in front of him, prayer-like. Maybe I didn’t have it so bad in the waiting room. The man looks beat.

“Nice to meet you. How’s she doing?”

He shakes his head and exhales. “I have some bad news—the sort I hate to deliver.”

My heartbeat speeds up and my palms grow damp. “What is it?”

“I’m so sorry. Your grandmother didn’t make it.”

The walls move in on me. My ears—my actual hearing—dims like I’ve ascended a higher altitude. “What? What do you mean?”

He doesn’t answer, or maybe he does and I miss it.

But I know what he said. It’s that the phrase ‘make it’ feels inadequate. People who don’t make a flight catch the next one. If I don’t make it to the end of a race, it doesn’t mean I’ll never run again.

“Is someone here with you?” he asks.

I only stare at him.

The surgeon waits. I have the urge to shove him. Make him talk and say the actual words.

She’s dead.

M
akenna

W
hen death knocks
, everyone listens.

It’s not difficult to sympathize with Aiden over the loss of Nonna. I taste his sorrow in every meal he refuses. Hear his confusion with every exhaled breath. Feel his fear when he engulfs me in his arms at night.

I’m glad he’s staying with me this week, ever since the funeral. His sadness overwhelms me. I couldn’t let him be alone.

Nonna would be angry if she knew how her death has affected him. Of all the people I’ve met, she embraced life. Rejoiced in living moments.

Morning sunlight streams into my living room.

“Let’s go somewhere today,” I say in a cheerful tone. “Ryder needs some sunshine.”

“Sure,” he says absently from the sofa while continuing to click keys on his laptop. “I need to finish this business plan I’m working on. What time?”

I place Ryder’s folded T-shirt on the coffee table and sift through the laundry basket for another shirt. “How about lunchtime? It’ll be warmer outside by then and we can go eat. Take a trip to the petting zoo.”

“Sure.” Click. Clickety-click. “I don’t know if I have time for the zoo, but I can meet you both for lunch.”

His shadowed eyes tell me he didn’t rest well last night.

“You canceled all your clients this week?” I ask. “You don’t have anyone today?”

“Jared, tomorrow morning,” he says and continues to work on his laptop. “A couple of my regulars in the afternoon. A meeting with Nonna’s attorney this morning.”

I’m surprised he’s not said anything about it before now. But it’s not like we’re married. There are probably lots of things he doesn’t mention.

“She had an attorney?” I ask.

“Yeah,” he says and looks up. “The attorney needs to go over the will with me. I think Nonna probably bequeathed the house. Yeah. I’m sure that’s it—the house and that behemoth car she drove. You know…she drove like you. In a hurry and not afraid to use the gas pedal.” His voice drags on the last thought, each word unhappier than the last.

I stop folding clothes, stroll over, and sit beside him. There’s a pillow between us, so I move it aside and scoot closer. “I hope when I pass on, I’ll leave things for Ryder.”

“I’m grateful she thought of me. But…I don’t know. I can’t see myself living there without her. I should’ve spent more time with her this year when I had the chance.”

How can I tell him that I hold hands with regret every day? If I’d been braver, Daddy might be alive.

I shake my head at him. “We never know when our last day will be with people. She sure loved you. I saw it in the way she was so happy to see you. And then she’d boss you around because she knew she could.”

“Don’t get any ideas.” His lips spread into a slow grin—a heart melting one and the first true smile I’ve seen all week.

“I don’t think that’s the advice Nonna would give me. Now get showered and help me with some things before you leave for the appointment. I made a honey-do list.”

“I thought only married guys get those. And then they get rewarded.” He lifts one eyebrow into a lecherous position.

“Yeah, well, why buy a cow when you can get the milk for free?”

Aiden smirks. “I don’t know if that idiom references me or you.”

“Oh you, of course.” I laugh at the way he goes wide-eyed as if I’ve insulted him. Leaning in, I press my lips slowly against his. He responds with only his mouth.

When he doesn’t move his arms, I pull back and stare into his beautiful ocean eyes. “You OK?”

“Yeah. I’m good. I…” He closes his eyes and I notice the black tips of his lashes. Lashes thick, long, and unreasonably pretty for a male. When he opens them, I catch my breath.

“Yes?” I prompt so he’ll finish.

“I was letting you drive. Enjoying this one moment of your lips and your attention. You make me feel like I mean something to you.”

“Aiden,” I whisper and my words want to catch in my suddenly tight throat. “You do mean a lot to me. I don’t know why you’d say that.”

“It’s easy to believe your body.” He lifts his hand and burrows it in the back of my hair. His fingers caress my neck and he applies a gentle pressure. “The way you react to me and how much I can’t control myself when you touch me…I get lost in this nirvana. You know? And it doesn’t even have to be in person. Your call or text can reach out and pull me to this place I know I want to be. I’m afraid I’ll lose this somehow.”

I don’t hold back this time. I slant my lips against his, slip my tongue inside to taste his mouth, grip his shoulders with a ferocity like I’m suddenly fighting him instead of loving him. It’s as if I can prove with my kiss the intensity of my feelings.

Because I certainly can’t speak them.

“Knock, knock?” Mama calls through the front door. She taps three times on the wood.

The outline of her face appears in the frosted glass pane of the door.

We slowly break apart. My heart bashes against my ribs and my body tingles from the hormones let out of their cage, a bunch of wild animals shaking the bars and furious to be corralled back inside.

Aiden presses his lips together and shifts uncomfortably on the sofa. “Oh, mothers. You gotta love ’em. It’s as if she knew…” He laughs.

I get to my feet in the slow motion and walk to the door. Opening it, I give her a you-caught-me smile, even though I’m sure she has no idea what she’s interrupted. “Morning Mama.”

She walks inside and holds out a casserole dish with a dishtowel wrapped around the ends. “I made breakfast.”

I groan—a half-hearted thing for show since it smells delicious. “You shouldn’t have. We have a refrigerator full of food.”

“Morning. You’re my new favorite person.” Aiden puts his laptop down and hurries over to Mama. He takes the casserole dish from her and she beams.

“A minute ago it was me,” I say with a grin. “He switches his affections so easily.”

Mama watches Aiden take the dish to the kitchen. “Is Ryder awake?”

“I here!” Ryder stomps into the living room, noisier than a roomful of preschoolers. He waves at Aiden, before galloping headfirst into Mama’s body and wrapping arms around her thighs. “Aiden here, too.”

“I see that,” she answers. “We like Aiden, don’t we.” She lifts Ryder in her arms.

“We like Aiden,” he agrees and waves a second time at Aiden.

He nods at Ryder. “I like you, too,” Aiden says. “You’re my favorite person.”

“See,” I say to Mama. “We’re all Aiden’s favorite person.”

“Absolutely.” Aiden’s eyes shine with a glow missing earlier, a half-smile lingering at the edges of his mouth as if he can’t help but catch some love from our side of the room. “Who can resist you guys?”

“You guys,” Ryder says.

Mama puts him down and he runs to Aiden, grabbing his hand and leading him into the kitchen.

“He’s been good for you both.” Mama picks up a bright yellow truck and tosses it into a catch-all toy bin in the corner of the room.

“Ryder thinks Aiden hung the moon.” I pick up a bear and deposit it on top the other toys.

“You do, too.” Mama whispers confidentially. She steps in front of me, so I’m forced to look at her.

“He’s great Mama. Really.”

“You know that’s not what I mean. You’re in love with that man.”

“Mama,” I scold under my breath. I roll my eyes.

“Dee,” Aiden yells from the kitchen. “Coffee’s brewing.”

The musical sound of Ryder chatting with Aiden, a high-pitched excited sound blended with Aiden’s calmer low-pitched responses, makes my insides warm.

“Let’s eat,” I say, stepping around her. “I’m starving.”

“Tell him.” Mama says in a conversational voice, clearly not caring if Aiden hears.

I give her a pissy look over my shoulder. “Mama,” I warn.

In the kitchen, Aiden pushes a mug of coffee across the bar. “Dee, this one’s yours. Cream, no sugar.”

“Thanks.” Mama takes a sip. “Perfect. I think you’ll make a fine husband for some lucky woman. Wanna get hitched? I like to cook and watch football.”

Aiden chuckles and pushes a mug in my direction. “It’s really tempting. I’ve always liked older women. And football? You’re pulling out the big guns. But since we’ve only known each other a week, maybe we should slow down.”

Ryder drinks his juice and eyes us as if he follows the conversation.

Mama grins. “I only knew Mak’s daddy a month when we decided to get married.”

“I never knew that,” I mumble. What a way to drop a shocking family tidbit into my morning. A month. Too short to know all the flaws, secrets, tendencies. Things built into a person’s DNA.

Things I pray aren’t imprinted on my own.

Shit. A month. Some women take longer to choose a new mascara. Shit, shit, shit.

I stroll across to the mail basket and sift through it with my face lowered. Hospital bill, pizza coupon, electricity bill. Mama and Aiden continue to talk and I concentrate on the envelopes in my hands.

“Mommy?” Ryder wraps arms around my middle. “Mommy sad?”

“Oh no, baby.” It’s as if the kid has ESP and makes it his job to call me out on my innermost thoughts.

Aiden steps behind me and rests his hands on my hipbones, giving me a little squeeze.

Resting his chin on my shoulder, he whispers, “Can I tell him about l-u-n-c-h?”

I nod.

“Hey, big man. Guess what?”

Ryder hops up and down, sloshing juice from his juice box onto the floor. “What, what, what?”

“Easy there.” I set the mail on the table and walk to get a paper towel.

Aiden squats to his haunches, so he’s eye-to-eye with Ryder. “We have a lunch date. It’ll be fun.”

Ryder mulls it over silently. He does this sometimes when he can’t decide if he’s supposed to like something or not. Those words together, lunch and date, don’t mean a lot to him. I’m certain he deliberates on whether he wants to be involved.

With a Supreme Court judge expression, he announces, “I ready.” He marches to the door in his bare feet and striped pajamas.

“Well kid,” I say and fix myself a plate of breakfast casserole, “I’m not ready and you have bedhead. We’ll go later after Aiden gets back. He has a meeting this morning. Come get your cereal.”

I grab Ryder’s plastic dish and the cereal box. Pouring out a dry serving, I place it on the table. He’s a picky eater—anything green rarely makes it past his lips. It’s a losing battle. It’s a miracle that Aiden coaxed him into eating green beans. The egg casserole, colorful with its scallions, won’t pass Ryder’s acceptable food list.

Mama grabs a plate and dishes out a helping. Then, she hands it to Aiden. “Here you go,” she says. “I made it with egg whites only and half the cheese ever since you talked about how you try to eat healthy foods”

Aiden nods. “Thanks. That’s so thoughtful of you.” He takes a bite and smiles while chewing.

Mama sips her coffee. She sets her cup down and gives me one of those long looks. “It’s for me, too. I need to watch my figure. I have a date this weekend.”

I halt, mid-chew.

“Don’t look so shocked,” she says. “He’s on one of my accounting forums online. I’ve known him for years on the Internet. He lives in Memphis and is going to drive over and—”

“Oh no, Mama. No.” I finish chewing and swallow. “Absolutely not.”

Aiden gives me a hard look and I realize how I sound.

“It’s just…” I flounder. “He could be a serial killer. A con artist. A…”

Aiden raises his eyebrows. “A type who loves spreadsheets and pivot tables? God help us.” Aiden switches his gaze to Mama. “I guess you’re meeting somewhere public.”

“Of course,” Mama says, not deterred in the least by my protests.

“Then let us know where you’ll be so we can rescue you if things don’t work out,” Aiden says. “You can text one letter to us and we’ll know it’s the distress signal.”

“Perfect,” Mama says and scoops a large bite of egg casserole into her mouth. “Maybe we can double date sometime.”

My mouth actually drops, fishlike.

“I’m joking,” she says a bit too gleefully. “You should see your face.”

I unhappily finish my breakfast. No wonder Mama’s talking about me and Aiden and love this morning. My mama has a date.

* * *

T
hree hours later
, we meet Aiden at Dastardly Bastards. When we arrive, he lifts a hand from a back corner booth and Ryder dashes over to him.

I slide into the opposite seat. “Hi. Have you been waiting long?”

Ryder scoots in next to Aiden and rises to his knees. He grabs the coloring page and crayons from the tin bucket in the middle of the table and begins to scribble inside the lines and outside. That’s my boy.

“Nah. Fifteen minutes maybe. But I wanted to talk to Dane first, so I haven’t been at the table long.”

I glance over and see Dane at the bar. He waves and I return it. “How’d it go?”

“Let’s order first. I have a lot to tell you,” he says, grinning. That grin is conversation bait.

“OK.” I grab a menu from the side of the table and study it for a second. I can’t help myself. “Hurry. I’m dying to know.”

“Nonna’s will…she left me more than a house. She put a lot of thought into my inheritance.”