Just Surrender... (19 page)

“I promised,” Tyler told her proudly and she remembered that he did.

It was a tandem. Shiny blue with two seats, two wheels and two sets of pedals. When she spoke, her voice was soft, sounding not so tired, and more than a little goofy. “I distinctly remember saying the words
a momentary joining of two bodies
…this bicycle is not sexual. It implies a visual social connection and easy conversations.”

“You did promise to teach me.”

She narrowed her eyes. “The student has surpassed the master. At this point, we’re all about the sex. This is not sex.”

Tyler looked completely unfazed. “People can have sex on bicycles.”

She pointed to the two seats. “Here?”

He scratched his head. “Probably not, but I’ll cop a feel if it’ll make you think more of me.”

Her instincts told her to scoff at the togetherness such a vehicle implied, but he was waiting, watching her steadily, and the day was glorious and the ice cream trucks were out and Dr. Tyler Hart was nervous.

It was enough to make someone melt. It was more than enough to make Edie smile and press a kiss to his mouth. “I love it.”

“I knew that,” he said, and climbed on the front. “You’re in back. Sorry. Get used to the balance, the feel of the pedals, the dizzying height from the ground.”

“Are you mocking me?” she asked, taking the backseat, wishing he were a little closer.

“Doctors do not mock. They only assess the situation and when some chickenshit looks at the terra firma with anxiety in her eyes…”

She tried to whack at him, but he was just out of her reach. So close, so far. So irresistible.

She tried to be a hard-ass, but she failed. His was a nervy smile, and she shot him a nervy smile in return. At that, his expression grew cocky, and she knew that he knew that he had her.

Damn it.

They rode up the sidewalk, down the pier, past joggers and other serious, more obnoxiously adept bicyclists, but Edie didn’t care. Tyler was not making fun of her nerves, the ground wasn’t as far as she thought, and so far, her balance was perfect.

Besides, directly in front of her was a studly young man, decked out in T-shirt and shorts.

As they rode, he pointed out various technical aspects of the bike, and she admired the broad lines of his back, the way his efficient legs pumped up and down as if they could ride forever. When he turned around, perhaps he noticed the lust in her eyes.

“Where to now?”

“My apartment is four blocks from here,” she suggested.

Surprisingly perceptive—maybe not that surprisingly—he wheeled them around and she ogled those long efficient legs until they were back in her apartment, and she had him naked and on top of her.

She stared into those dark, steady eyes, and Edie tightened her hold even tighter, using efficient legs as if she could ride him forever.

In her heart, she thought she could.

“Cold Springs. To see my sister.”

“I thought you didn’t want to go.” There was a resigned weariness in his face, and although she understood it, she wished she had the power to take it away.

“I don’t. I think it’s a mistake and mistakes can’t be undone.”

“Then why go?”

“Austen thinks it’s a good idea, and for the past twelve months, it’s metastasized inside him, so I know he’s going to go up there and talk to her and find out all the miserable things that he’d be better off not knowing. When he does that, I’d rather I was there. He told me he wanted me there.” Tyler smiled at that, as if something miraculous had happened. Edie thought it had.

“So why do you want me to go?” she asked, wondering if there was space in the world for two miracles in one day.

“Because when I hear all the miserable things that I’d be better off not knowing, I’d rather you were there.”

Gently she kissed him, touched more than words.

This is what people did.

They needed each other.

Edie knew she needed Tyler, and now her heart knew that he needed her, too.

“Not at all,” Tyler replied with a flat smile. Edie grabbed hold of his hand as if he needed her assistance. Not wanting to disappoint her, he held it tightly as if he didn’t want to let go.

“This is a great place,” gushed Austen, who was currently roaming the room, taking in the old photos of their mother, her second husband, their baby. There were pictures of the Grand Canyon, the Eiffel Tower, the U.S. Capitol. It was storybook, the Great American Family. Tyler felt something curdle in his stomach. Maybe it was food poisoning? Maybe he could swallow hemlock?

As if sensing his thoughts, Edie gave him a smile and he managed a half smile in return.

“I wanted to talk to you before the hospital gala.”

Tyler raised his head. “What was that?”

“My fiancé. He’s a sales rep for Lifeline Pharmaceuticals. I thought you would like that. That you two have something in common. Medicine.”

Tyler wasn’t sure what he was supposed to say. When in doubt keep your mouth shut. He didn’t have to wait long because apparently Brooke didn’t like the silence. “Mother was really cool. You would have liked her.”

“I don’t remember much about her,” Austen said. No, Austen wouldn’t remember much about her. Not even the day she left. He’d been playing baseball. Frank had been at work. Only Tyler had been home when she left.

Yes, he remembered her well.

“She did a lot of work for the PTA. Reading in the classrooms, volunteering at the food pantry at the church. She taught me Latin when I was eight.”

“What about your father?” asked Tyler. “What did he do?” Gas station attendant, porn king, mafioso?

“He was a church pastor. Most likely you drove by his church on your way here.”

“He’s dead now?” asked Tyler, and Edie pressed her nails into his hand.

Brooke looked down at her lap, the picture of the bereaved daughter.

“Yes. He passed away three years before Mother did. I don’t think she ever recovered after he died. They really loved each other.”

Tyler was going to throw up. By this time, even Austen was starting to look a little green. It wasn’t the family failure that Tyler had envisioned, instead, in many ways, this was worse.

“I found Austen’s birth certificate in Mother’s safety deposit box and I looked you up on the internet.” Goddamned Google.

“I’ve always wanted a real family and when I found out about… At first, I wasn’t sure what to say, so thus the hang-up calls. Sorry. But how to tell someone, ‘Hey, your mother died, and, oh, by the way, I’m your sister.’”

You don’t.

Edie, tenderhearted Edie, smiled nicely at Brooke. “It must have been hard.”

“Not as hard as it must have been for you two,” she said, nodding to Austen and Tyler, her face drawn into some Mother Teresa portrait of sympathy.

Tyler rose. “Actually, it’s been easy. And this has been great. I think I’m going to leave now.”

Edie shot him a nervous glance. “You’re sure?”

“I’m due in surgery.”

Austen picked up his hat, dusted it off, as if there were dirt on the brim and met Tyler’s eyes for one long, moment. In his little brother’s face, he saw the one thing he’d wanted to avoid at all costs. The hard realization that life could be shit.

“Congratulations.”

“I want everything to be perfect. My parents, they were so in love, so perfect, and I thought everything
was
perfect until I realized what she’d done. Still, I was excited to know I had two brothers.”

“They weren’t quite so excited as you,” Edie pointed out, because Brooke should be aware that not everyone had a fairy-tale life, and now that she was experiencing it first-hand—the perfectly turned out living room, the lifeless pictures on the wall—Edie decided that a fairy-tale life wasn’t all it was cracked up to be.

“I had hoped we could be friends. Do all the family things. Thanksgiving dinners, taking portraits…” Her eyes were wistful. Odd.

“Why’d she leave them?”

“I don’t know. There were a lot of things about her that I never understood, but she always tried to be a great mom.”

“It sounds like she was.” Edie noted the picture on the mantel. Tyler’s mother stood in front of a church, with glorious spring flowers and a spiffy Easter hat. It was like something out of a magazine, except for the woman’s hard eyes and haggard face. Edie’s smile was tight, because frankly, she had decided that Charlene Hart was a world-class monster for leaving her two sons behind, but obviously, Brooke wouldn’t want to hear that.

“I should go.” Edie headed for the door. Tyler was waiting. Austen was waiting, and Edie would be damned if she’d disappoint them. No, Brooke Campbell was a nice person, but Edie’s loyalties were with Tyler. Always and forever.

“Yes. Thank you for coming. I’ll see you next month at the gala.”

“Oh, yes. Looking forward to it,” Edie told her politely.

It was going to be hell.

“Don’t be. It’s done. Now maybe she’ll leave us alone.”

“Will you be all right at the gala? We don’t have to go.”

There was a desperation in him, a pain, and she didn’t protest. For once, Edie would be the strong one, and let him draw from her.

Draw from her he did, over and over. Her back was wet with sweat, and she could hear the labored rasp of his breathing, the buzz of the traffic below them until finally his movements began to slow, then still.

His hands wrapped around her once again, gently this time, and she could feel his face against her back, buried there, drawing comfort. “I’m sorry,” he whispered, pressing a kiss to her skin.

She turned and held his face in her hands and pressed a kiss to his jaw, his cheek, the corner of his mouth, and then he took over the kiss with passion and desperation. She felt the frenzied beat of his heart against hers. He carried her to the bed, and made love to her again, making sure she found her pleasure, and later they lay together, two bodies entwined. Quietly Edie stroked his hair, until finally at peace, Tyler slept.

“Sorry.”

Austen shrugged, shifting his bag over his shoulder. “Hey, no big deal. We move on. Life’s too short to dwell on the fact that our family life sucked, our mother well and truly deserted us, and never mentioned once that she had two sons to our sister. No. It’s all peachy.”

“I’ll fly down to Texas after the fellowship is over. We’ll hit Sixth Street.” He flicked the brim of Austen’s hat. “I’ll bring mine.”

“I don’t need a babysitter.”

“Yeah, I remember the last time you said that. The shed burned down.”

“Good times,” Austen said, and then checked his watch. “Stick with Edie, Tyler. You need her.”

Not sure what to say, Tyler only nodded, and watched his baby brother leave. Slowly he climbed into a taxi, remembering the first night he met Edie. Remembering every thing. Need was a dangerous thing, always a harbinger of pain.

As the taxi pulled in front of Edie’s building, he remembered the old joke. The doctor asks, “Does it hurt when you do this?” The punchline was the killer.

Then don’t do it.