Just Her Luck (22 page)

"But it wasn't," I finished for her, holding my breath.

"No," she said sadly, shaking her head, "It came back and its spread now. The doctor says its terminal."

"Oh, Ruthie!"

She finally looked back at me and I saw the unshed tears she was hiding, shining in her eyes, her lower lip trembling.

"Ruthie," I cried, hugging her to me.

"I'm sorry," she sniffled, hugging me back, "I'm sorry I didn't just tell you sooner. I was so worried about you and… and I just... I just wanted to... to protect you."

She
was sick and she was worried about
me.

She just wanted to protect me, like she always does.

Like she always has...

I wiped my tears with the back of my hand and made a vow, right then and there, a promise to her and to myself.

I promise to be there
for her
.

To be
her
rock this time.

Be there for her when she needs me.

"I understand," I murmured, pulling back, trying to muster up a smile.

She needs you now, Vieve, be what she needs.

"You do?"

I nodded and she hugged me again, grateful.

"Still doesn't make it okay that you got me drunk and lied to me, but I understand." I laughed a little at the absurdity of her plan.

It would take a lot more than three long island iced teas to get me shnockered up.

Definitely feeling buzzed though.

She gave me a big smile and wiped at her eyes with her hanky.

"Thank you, Vieve."

"For what?" I asked quietly, not quite following.

"For not hating me," she said slowly, sniffling a little.

I laughed through my tears and shook my head.

"I could never hate you, Aunt Ruthie. I love you too much."

"I love you too, dear heart."

We sat back in our seats, both needing a moment of silence.

I sat there clutching her hand again as I absorbed everything I'd learned the last few minutes.

"Oh, you don't know how freeing it is to get all that off my chest," she said wearily, getting herself back together again.

One more thing bothered be though...

"I have one more question."

She looked at me expectantly.

"Was there ever really a heart problem?" I had to ask.

"Yes, but they can't do anything about that now anyways. It wouldn't matter in the end," she said delicately.

It matters to me!
I wanted to cry out.

"So... what happens next?" I asked instead, proud of myself for keeping a calm exterior.

I’ll lose my shit later.

"Nothing," she shrugged helplessly, "I won't do chemo, and before you say anything, I've already been told it would be pointless, in so many words. So why torture myself? I don't want to go out like that."

Be what she needs.

Be what she needs.

Be what
she
needs
,
I repeated over and over.

Resolve firm, I got up and held out my hand.

"I guess the question I should be asking then is, what do you want to do from here and what do you want me to do?"

She looked thankful, and it soothed a little of the crushing weight in my chest, taking my hand as I pulled her up.

If I can't make her live forever, I can at least make what time she has left count.

I'll
try
to shut up and do what she wants.

Key word being '
try'
.

"You know what I'd like to do?" Patting down her hair, she tucked her hanky away and linked her arm with mine.

"What?"

"I'd like to have another drink with my niece, then call it a night."

"That's it? No late night toilet papering or graffiti tagging frenzy? No dildo conventions or nudist colonies? Just a drink?"

She laughed and carted me along, heading straight for the bar.

"Yes, that's it," she chuckled at me.

The tell-tale blush stealing across her pale cheeks made me chuckle, and she caught on fast, thwacking my backside with her purse.

"Well," I said with a genuine smile at her obstinacy, keeping up, "I think I can manage that."

Would You Like Some Frickin’ Jealous With That?

"Thanks for the ride." I hopped off of Barry's motorcycle, tugging desperately at my dress, reaching over to smack my cousin for forgetting to wear a helmet or even bring me one for that matter.

I have no desire to be road kill, thank you very much.

Trying to straighten my outfit again, I grimaced.

I don't think this was made for late night jaunts on your cousin's bike, but I couldn't exactly be choosey, now could I?

Ruthie had hidden my keys when she suddenly got paranoid that I'd had too much to drink, leaving me stranded with only two options left.

One, call one of the Harrison brood-
so wasn't gonna happen
- or two, call Barry.

I called Barry.

"No problem, cousin. Any time." He grinned, tugging me in for a hug, silver lip ring gleaming off the large exterior light towards the entrance to the ranch.

His hug was harder than his usual, quick, ten second, one-armed attempt at affection, and I pulled back to look at him.

"She told you too?" I asked him quietly, already knowing the answer.

"Yeah," he said heavily, giving me a sad smile, nodding his shaggy mop of black hair, thick black brows pulling down low on his forehead, eyebrow piercing going along with them, "this morning at breakfast. She just kinda blurted it all out."

I nodded and gave him one more quick hug.

"Take good care of her for me, huh?"

He nodded and I went to walk away.

"Hey, Vieve. Don't make off with my jacket," he teased, chucking me under the chin.

I swatted his hand away, slid his leather jacket off and handed it back to him.

He slid it back on over his black wife beater, covering his heavily tattooed arms with the warm leather.

"Make sure you eat, ya stick," I teased, poking the nonexistent tummy on his rail thin frame.

"I eat. Ruthie wouldn't let me live it down if I forgot a meal."

He grinned, belaying his grumbling tone.

Ruthie wanted to keep living with Barry, sighting that she felt he needed her, and I didn't argue.

She
needs
to feel
needed
, I'd realized, not taking offense to her staying with him anymore.

She also weaseled a promise out of me to keep on at the Harrison's until Reeve could hire a permanent replacement, worried about 'her boys' as she calls them.

"I mean it, though, you take care of her now," I said seriously.

"Will do," he promised sincerely and waved off.

I started to slowly walk up the gravel drive, taking my shoes off to carry them in my hand.

"Hey," he called, "How did Ruthie get home? And why didn't you go with her?"

"She wanted to stay the night with Glenda from bingo. You know,
Glenda
," I explained, putting extra emphasis on the woman's name.

"Ooohhh.
Glenda
," he said slowly, trying not to shudder.

Glenda, the matchmaking bingo enthusiast, is nice enough as a person-
don't get me wrong
- but she's a terrible matchmaker with a relentless streak in her big enough to rival both Ruthie and me put together.

I still cringe in sympathy for poor Barry for getting roped into taking her granddaughter out on a date.

I'm pretty sure he still has nightmares about Cheryl- grabby hands- Feltmere.

"Let me know if you need help getting your bug back home. I'll be sure to get the keys back from Ruthie."

He waved good bye, and I waved back.

"Thanks again. Bye!"

I waited until he started his bike again and took off, a trail of lights and dust in the distance before I walked up to the house.

Opening the door at a snail’s pace, I quietly crept my way in, keeping all the lights off so I didn't wake anyone up.

"It's late," Reeve barked somewhere from the dark of the living room, camouflaged in the pitch black interior.

I jumped and squeaked, clutching my shoes to my chest as he shot the living room light on, nearly blinding me with it.

"Where were you?" He glared at me, arms crossed over his chest.

My spine stiffened at that.

"You aren't my daddy,
Reeve
," I snapped, marching towards my room, “I told Bowen and Ephraim I was going to be out later.”

"It’s almost two in the morning,
Genevieve
. I will ask you one more time, where were you?" he ground out.

"None of your business!" I hissed, taking some of the frustration and crazy mixed up emotions I have about the whole Ruthie thing out on him. "I work here! You don't own me! Don't like what I'm doing? Hire someone else!"

"Maybe I will!" he yelled, both of us ignoring the rest of the guys as they came downstairs to see what the hell was going on.

"Fine! See if I fuckin' care!" I bellowed, storming down the hall.

"Don't you walk away from me!" he demanded, dogging my steps.

"Watch me!"

"Genevieve!"

"Reeve!"

"What's going on around here?" Bowen growled from the top of the stairs.

"That's what I'd like to know?" Reeve bellowed back while glowering down at me.

"Mind your own business, pervert!"

"Tell your boyfriend to stay off my god damn property! You can go see him on your own time," he spat, marching up the stairs, leaving me staring off after him.

"You stupid, stubborn...
jack ass,"
I laughed, bursting out into a fit of hysterical laughter when it hit me suddenly, what he'd really thought was going on and why he was being so stupid.

I snorted and laughed, wiping at my eyes.

He stormed back over and towered over me, getting up into my personal space.

"What the fuck do you think is so funny, prison bait?" he snarled at me.

"You're jealous," I cleared my throat and stood, sobering up, "that's why you’re being such an asshole." I stared him straight in his good eye, going toe to toe with him.

"Bull shit," he said defensively, aware that we had an audience.

I softened at the hurt in his tone.

For a minute I saw the Reeve from the other night, the playful, caring Reeve that let his real feelings show.

The one that let me in.

The Reeve I actually like.

"Hey," I said quietly, stepping towards him, "It's not what you think, Reeve. He's my..."

He snorted and backed away, putting his hands up to stop me from touching him.

He laughed in my face, smirking at me as he gave a short, mocking laugh.

"I guess the jokes on you,
sweet thang
," he sneered. "I already got what I wanted from you."

I flinched, swallowing hard, stung by his words, fighting back the stupid tears that started burning at the backs of my eyes.

I won't cry in front of him
, I promised myself.

I refuse to give him the satisfaction.

"Sorry to disappoint you. I just don't like the help whoring around at all hours, that's all. Glad I caught on to you, and him too. From the looks of that guy, I wouldn't let him set one foot into my home. I had to make sure you weren't going to try and sneak him in or anything, maybe try to bring in more of your...
ilk
. Who knows what shit you two could pull. Can't have you lettin' your little fuck buddies hold up here for the night or something."

My hands fisted on the shoes I still held, squeezing them until I thought I might crush them, my promise to Ruthie the only thing keeping me from quitting right now and storming out that door, but not before giving the mother fucker a piece of my mind.

And my fist!

It's truly one of the hardest things I've ever done.

I've never not argued back in my life.

Take care of my boys
, she's always saying,
I worry about them, look after them for me, Vieve.

"You're going to live alone and you're going to die alone, Reeve Harrison," I murmured quietly, voice hard and cold,
"I
pity
you."