Rebel Soul: (Rebel Series Book 1) ((Rebel Series)) (19 page)

I nodded, absorbing this information. “Okay, that sounds easy enough.”

Becky nodded, moving from the kitchen and down the hall. She stopped in front of a child’s bedroom. “This is Aiden’s room. He knows where to find his pajamas and anything else he needs. There’s a park around the corner if you get bored of the backyard, and all of the emergency contact numbers are listed on the refrigerator.” Becky turned, walking back down the hallway. She paused at a partially closed door and peered inside. “Oh! Mom…I didn’t know you were up!” she exclaimed, pushing open the door and walking all the way inside. She motioned for me to come in. My heart was pounding in my chest, but I obeyed her, slowly walking the rest of the way into the room.

The air smelled stale and sterile, like that of a hospital. It made a swell of panic rise in the pit of my stomach. I swallowed hard, trying to breathe through my mouth and not my nose.

“Hi, dear.” The voice that answered her was fragile and wispy, almost undetectable to my ears. Had I still been in the hallway, I likely wouldn’t have heard her at all. “Who’s this?”

“This is Tessa Armstrong,” Becky explained. “She’s going to babysit Aiden while I’m working today.”

Mrs. Miller was every bit as frail as her voice. She gave me an exhausted, pained smile. “Don’t worry, I’m not much trouble.”

I smiled shyly, not knowing what to say or how to act. Picking up on my discomfort, Becky took charge. “Do you need anything before I go?” she asked.

Mrs. Miller shook her head in response. “I’m just going to close my eyes for a bit,” she whispered, her lids fluttering.

Becky and I left the bedroom and she slowly closed the door before turning to me. “The nurse, Beth-Anne, will be here in half an hour anyway,” she explained. “She won’t need anything in the meantime, but if…if she does, just call Beth-Anne and she’ll hurry over. Okay?”

“Okay.” I nodded, trying to remain calm. Becky gave me a tiny smile and turned around, heading back down the hallway to the kitchen. She picked up her purse and disappeared in the living room to kiss her son goodbye.

“I’ll sneak in and give you kisses when I get home,” I heard her saying as I joined them in the living room.

Aiden nodded solemnly, his little arms around his mother’s neck. “Bye, Mommy,” he said.

She straightened up and ruffled his hair. “Alright, off I go. Remember, the numbers are on the refrigerator if you need them,” Becky told me, her eyes fixed on mine as if she was drilling this information into my brain.

* * *

The day passed quickly. After Beth-Anne arrived, we headed outside to play in the backyard until lunch time. I made chicken nuggets and French fries, and he ate everything on his plate. Then we curled up on the couch to watch a movie together. After quiet time, Aiden asked if we could go to the park. We stayed there until four o’clock then I lured him back home so I could toss the casserole in the oven.

Beth-Anne was nice, but she mostly stayed in the bedroom with Mrs. Miller. She knitted or read her novel whenever Mrs. Miller slept, which was a lot. Any time she woke up coughing or gasping for air, Beth-Anne was at her side to administer pain medication and offer her water.

Dinner was ready and cooling on the stovetop when I hesitantly approached the bedroom and knocked. Beth-Anne looked up from her chair and gave me a warm smile. “Yes, dear?”

“Dinner is ready…I wasn’t sure if you guys wanted any?” I said, glancing towards Mrs. Miller. She was awake, her tired eyes watching me curiously.

“I don’t suppose you feel like a small plate, huh Deanna?” Beth-Anne smiled hopefully at Mrs. Miller.

“I’ll pass. Becky never did really learn how to cook,” Deanna joked. She started to cough lightly, as if her throat was raw from talking.

I gave her a small smile, my heart aching a little. I didn’t know this woman, but she was clearly in pain and suffering and she was Brock’s mom.

Beth-Anne chuckled. “Oh, Deanna, that’s not very nice. She tries,” she scolded. “I’ll have a plate,” Beth-Anne added, glancing at me with warmth.

I was dishing the casserole out onto three plates when the front door opened and Aiden let out an excited squeal from the living room. I peered up, my brow creased in a frown until I saw who Aiden was so excited for.

The little boy had his arms wrapped around Hunter’s thick neck. Brock was standing in the foyer, a grin on his lips as he watched his nephew with his dog. His hair was wet from the shower, and he was dressed in his usual uniform of jeans and a t-shirt. This time, his t-shirt was a dark gray that made his eyes appear even more smoky and dark.

“I figured I’d come hang out, see how your first day went,” Brock explained, seeing the questioning look on my face.

“Oh. I thought Gordon was at your place.”

“The crew left an hour ago.” Brock shrugged. He glanced down the hallway, towards the bedroom where his mom was.

“Did you want to take this plate to Beth-Anne for me?” I offered, biting my lip. “She’s in the bedroom.”

“Yeah, sure.” He stepped forward, taking the plate and fork I offered him, and disappeared down the hall. I could hear their quiet voices drift down the hall. From the sounds of it, Brock’s mom had fallen asleep again.

Five minutes later, he returned. I had set one more place at the table; Aiden and I were already sitting down.

It was strange sitting around a table with Brock and his nephew, eating a meal. It wasn’t a bad strange…just a surreal strange. He was very good with Aiden, paying full attention to him when the little boy spoke about our day.

I cleaned up after dinner, listening to the sound of the two of them playing in the living room. Aiden had pulled out one of his favourite games, Hungry Hungry Hippos, and was intent on showing Brock how to play.

I joined them once the rest of the dishes were cleaned, and watched as they played. Strange emotions came over me as I watched the large man before me lose horrendously to a four-year-old. I couldn’t tell if he was throwing the game purposely, or if Aiden was just that talented. Either way, my heart swelled at the sight.

“Okay, Aiden, we need to start getting ready for bed now,” I said, checking the time. It was nearly seven, and I still needed to run him a bath. He’d gotten pretty dirty at the park.

“Alright.” Aiden sighed heavily and began to clean up his game. I arched an eyebrow, impressed. Elle used to do a lot of babysitting for her neighbors, and the kids were
never
as cooperative as Aiden.

After he was clean from his bath and dressed in his pajamas, Aiden looked up at me with his bright blue eyes. “I always curl up in Grammy’s bed for a visit. She used to read my bedtime story too, but she can’t anymore. She can still cuddle me though.”

“Oh,” I faltered, blinking quickly. “Um, let me see if she’s awake?” I suggested, looking to Brock for help. He shrugged, looking just as surprised as me. I padded out of Aiden’s room down the hallway and paused by the open door.

Deanna was awake again, conversing with the hospice nurse in her raspy voice. Beth-Anne was standing near the head of the bed, supporting the dying woman’s upper body with one arm while she propped up the pillows so Deanna could sit up more. They both glanced up, catching my movement by the door.

“Is Aiden ready for bed?” The amount of effort it took Deanna to say those five words tugged at my heart strings. I could tell she was exhausted, but this ritual was something she was clinging to, something they were both clinging to.

I nodded, trying to speak. I had to clear my throat before the words would come. “Yes, he’s ready,” I said, glancing down the hallway. Aiden was standing by his door, holding a stuffed animal to his chest and waiting patiently. Brock stood beside him, leaning against the doorframe of Aiden’s bedroom. Many emotions were rolling through his stormy eyes.

“Come on in,” Beth-Anne said, speaking on behalf of Deanna. Aiden’s face lit up and he raced down the hallway, slowing when he got to the doorway of his grandmother’s bedroom. He carefully crawled into her bed, taking great care to not hurt her. “It’s alright, dear. I’ll bring him out when they’re done visiting,” Beth-Anne assured me, her warm brown eyes catching me still standing awkwardly by the door.

I nodded, closing the door a little more to allow them some privacy. My gaze flitted back to where I’d last seen Brock, but he wasn’t there anymore. I padded softly down the hallway, peering back into Aiden’s room. Brock was sitting on the twin sized bed, his head buried in his hands.

“Are you okay?” I asked, instantly regretting the words the moment they tumbled past my lips. His shoulders stiffened and I cringed, wishing I could take those words back. “I’m sorry, that’s a stupid thing to ask.”

“No, it’s not.” Brock sighed, finally raising his head to look at me. His eyes were dark, the pain and despair he felt rolling around within their depths, and his strong features were pinched as if he was forcing that stoic mask he’d worn the night I met him back into place.

I walked towards him, keeping my gaze locked on his eyes. I knelt in front of him, placing my hands on his knees. “I want you to know I’m here, okay? And I get it. I don’t remember my mom’s death, but I still mourn the loss of her. This isn’t easy for you, and…” I tried to reorganize my thoughts. Everything Elle had said about Brock came rushing back to me. “I get the impression that you’re used to carrying everyone’s problems and grief so…let me carry yours, or at least help you.”

Brock raised a hand to gently cup my cheek. He swallowed hard, absorbing my words as his eyes searched mine. “Thank you,” he finally said, giving me the tiniest of smiles. He looked as if he had more to say, but thought the better of it. Instead, he slowly brought his lips to mine and kissed me tenderly.

Brock

I wanted to tell her that she had no idea what kind of comfort she provided me, because she didn’t. She didn’t realize that she made me a better man, a better person.

She made me a better man, but I was still a coward. I was still avoiding my mother. So far, I’d been lucky. Each time I had stopped by, she’d been sleeping. Right now, she was awake. I knew I should go in and say something, but I didn’t want to interrupt her time with Aiden. From what Becky had told me, Aiden had a special bond with our mother.

“Alright, Aiden, off to bed you go.” Beth-Anne’s voice drifted down the hallway and into my nephew’s room. I stood up, pulling Tessa up with me just as Aiden rounded the corner. His eyes were bright with emotion, and his bottom lip jutted out. I could tell by the way he was walking that he was putting on a brave face. His chest was puffed up and his shoulders were drawn back as if he could steel himself from the emotions he was feeling. It was the exact act I’d performed most of my life. Hell, I still did.

“Do you mind if I tuck him in?” I asked, arching a brow at Tessa.

“Of course not.” She smiled, sensing we both needed this. She crouched down, smiling at Aiden. “I had a lot of fun with you today, Aiden. I can’t wait to hang out again tomorrow. Maybe we’ll go somewhere fun, like the waterfront. What do you say?”

Aiden nodded and slowly raised his eyes to meet Tessa’s. They were still watery, but he gave her a smile. “I had fun too. See you tomorrow, Tessa,” he answered, giving her the famous Miller man nod. Tessa grinned and I could tell from the look on her face that she saw the similarities between Aiden, Braden and me.

“Goodnight,” she added, disappearing down the hall.

Aiden sighed heavily and shuffled over to his bed, his shoulders slumping slightly with defeat. He looked like a child that carried the weight of the world on his shoulders. I pulled back the blankets and he crawled in.

“Do you want to talk about it?” I asked, nodding my head in the direction of my mom’s bedroom.

Aiden’s eyes welled up with the tears he’d been trying to repress, his bottom lip trembling slightly. “I’m just really going to miss Grammy when she goes to Heaven. I wish I could visit her, but Mommy says I can’t visit people in Heaven.”

“No, you can’t visit her,” I confirmed, my heart clenching painfully in my chest. “But you can talk to her whenever you want.”

“Will she talk back?” he whispered, his eyes wide.

“Not in words.” I smiled sadly and sat down on the bottom of his bed. Aiden’s face folded into confusion as he tried to work out the meaning. “When my grandpa died, I would talk to him and I would hear his replies in my heart.”

“Oh,” Aiden said softly, his frown lessening. “It’s not the same, though.”

“No, it’s not,” I told him. “But Grammy loves you very much, and she’ll watch over you always.”

“Why does she have to leave us?” More tears streamed down Aiden’s face.

I swallowed hard, trying to keep my own heartache and emotions at bay. “You know that she doesn’t want to go, right? She doesn’t want to leave you, buddy. She doesn’t want to leave any of us. But we don’t often get a choice.”

Aiden’s chest heaved with the breaths he fought to draw in. Without thinking, I scooped him up in my arms and held him close, stroking his thick dark hair and rocking him back and forth. His heartbreak was killing me.

I didn’t know the first thing about raising a child, let alone raising one going through something like this. Part of me wanted to suggest that Becky stop with this nightly routine; it looked like it was breaking him. Then and again, one day he wouldn’t be able to curl up beside her and talk to her at all, and preventing him from doing that now might only make things worse.

Still, when I’d heard the news, I’d desperately hoped that Aiden would still be unaware, that he wouldn’t know that she was dying. I hoped that he could keep the childlike wonder and innocence a while longer. Death ages a child, similar to the way that abuse does. The last thing I wanted was for my nephew to grow up faster than he was supposed to.

I continued rocking him until his sobbing ebbed and his chest started to fall in slow and gentle patterns. He’d cried himself to sleep in my arms. I held him for a while longer before I gently stood up and placed him in his bed. I tucked him in, watching him for a moment. Then I sighed and left his room, closing the door quietly behind me.

I paused by my mother’s door, conflicted. Part of me wanted to go in there and see if she was still awake, but another part of me cautioned that I’d had enough emotional shit to deal with tonight. My anxiety was rolling; my rage was lurking beneath the surface. I clenched my fists, the desire to punch something strong. I was angry at her; angry at her for dying and leaving this mess behind. But I knew that wasn’t rational. It wasn’t like she was intentionally dying.

I found Tessa sitting at the kitchen table with two cups of steaming tea in front of her. She pushed one towards me without saying a word. Her eyes were red rimmed. I wasn’t sure how much of our conversation she had overheard.

“I’m sorry,” I said. I brought my hand up to scratch at the back of my neck.

“Don’t be.” She waved my apology away, not meeting my eyes. “It’s nobody’s fault. It’s just…life.”

“Yeah,” I said on an exhale. I pulled the chair out and sat down across from Tessa, staring into the mug. “You made tea?” I asked, looking up at her. The corners of my lips twitched with a small smile at the domestic gesture.

She shrugged, finally meeting my eyes and fighting a smile of her own. “I don’t know. It seemed like a good idea at the time.”

“Do you even drink tea?” I asked, arching a brow.

“No,” she muttered, her tentative smile finally breaking free. “Do you?”

“No.” I laughed lightly, shaking my head. I was a black coffee kind of guy. I’d never had a sip of tea in my life, but I appreciated her attempt at comfort.

Tessa’s eyes floated to the clock over the stove, her smile fading slightly. “Beth-Anne left ten minutes ago, and I guess Becky should be here soon,” she said, looking back at me. She sounded uncertain, as if she wasn’t sure that I should be here when Becky got home.

“Becky probably knows,” I told her, shrugging. I didn’t care what Becky thought about me being with Tessa. I picked up the tea, taking a small sip just to do something with my hands. It wasn’t that bad, but I still preferred the strong kick of coffee. “You don’t have to worry about my family ratting us out to anyone.”

“That’s not what I’m worried about,” Tessa argued, her eyes flashing a little. “I just didn’t want her to think I invited my boyfriend over to hook up with when I’m supposed to be watching her kid.”

“But you didn’t.” I grinned, amused. It was startling how Tessa could change the way I felt. When I’d left Aiden’s room, I’d been an emotional wreck on the verge of exploding or punching a wall. Now I was smiling and bantering with her. Now I felt almost happy, simply from being around her. “I showed up, remember? Besides, I’m her brother and I technically live here.”

“Still,” she muttered, her eyes lowering as she fought another smile. She was amused with the situation and her reaction to it too.

I opened my mouth, about to say something else, when the front door opened and Becky walked in. She didn’t seem surprised at all to see me sitting at the table across from Tessa. Then again, she had probably seen my truck parked out front. “Hey, guys.” She sounded cautious and she looked exhausted. Worry lines creased her forehead as she came into the kitchen and eyed the tea mistrustfully.

Tessa sat up straighter, a sheepish look on her face. “I made tea, but neither one of us like tea, apparently. You can have mine.”

Becky inhaled slowly, as if preparing herself. Her eyes narrowed while she studied our faces. “So, what happened?” she asked, squaring her shoulders. “I mean, if you made tea and nobody wanted any…something happened, didn’t it? How is Aiden?” She sounded borderline panicked, but she fought to keep it under control. She was clinging to what little strength she had left.

“Relax,” I instructed firmly. “He just got a little emotional after he cuddled with Mom.”

“Oh.” Becky exhaled, her brow furrowing. “I’m sorry, Tessa. I completely forgot to give you the heads up about that,” she added guiltily, chewing on her lip. “He doesn’t get emotional every night, but I guess he knows that she’s getting sicker.”

“He knows.” I cleared my throat, about to fill her in on what Aiden had said.

Tessa picked at the old vinyl on the table. “I should go. This is probably a conversation for you two to have alone,” she said, standing up. “I’ll call you later, Brock. And I’ll see you tomorrow, Becky…same time?”

“Yeah, same time.” Becky swallowed, nodding at Tessa and giving her a small smile.

I wanted to ask her to stay, but I could tell by the look on her face that she needed out. We watched as Tessa gathered her things and left, her head bowed slightly. When the door clanged shut behind her, Becky fixed me with a piercing stare.

“So tell me. What happened?”

I swallowed hard, steeling myself before I launched into the recount of what Aiden had said. Becky’s eyes welled with tears as she listened and her shoulders slumped in utter defeat. When I finished talking, she buried her head in her arms on the table and sobbed.

I stood up, about to put my arms around her and comfort her. Becky raised her hand, stopping me. “I’m fine,” she said, lifting her head with great effort. Her eyes were watery. “This is just…it’s hard. Not only am I losing Mom, but I…” She bit down on her lip in an attempt to keep her emotion at bay.

“I know it’s hard,” I said, that ball of emotion stuck in my throat. Seeing my sister fall to pieces was tough, almost as tough as seeing Aiden fall to pieces. I’d protected this girl since the day she was born. I took a steadying breath, trying to keep my emotions at bay so I could get through this conversation without exploding. I couldn’t break down in front of Becky, and I wouldn’t. She needed me to be strong.

“I didn’t think sheltering him would be a good idea, but now I’m not so sure. Maybe I should have listened to Mom when she insisted on staying in the hospital.”

“Becky.” I sighed, the emotion and exhaustion cutting into me. “There’s no right answer here; you have to see that. There’s no way that you can ensure he won’t come out unscathed…you can’t control the outcome of this. It’s obvious he has a close bond with Mom, and it’s obvious that even if you sheltered him from all this, he’d still miss her greatly. You’re doing the best you can with the hand you’ve been dealt. You’re a fantastic mom and Aiden is a fantastic kid.”

Fresh tears poured down her cheeks at my words and she forced a smile. “Thanks, Brock,” she said, swallowing hard. “I’m really glad you’re back,” she added. “I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

* * *

The next week passed in a blur. I was busy framing with Gordon and his crew, and didn’t have time to go to the house again. I didn’t end up speaking to my mom that night I was there; she remained sleeping and I hadn’t wanted to wake her.

I saw Tessa almost every night, though. She’d stop in after she finished babysitting to hang out for a bit. I knew we were pushing our luck; she knew it too, but she didn’t seem to care. She seemed every bit as captivated by me as I was by her.

On Saturday morning, at the crack of dawn, I went outside to the sound of her truck rumbling up the driveway. She’d texted me forty minutes prior, asking if I was up. I’d told her to come straight over.

“Wow.” She whistled, stepping out of her truck and peering up at the skeleton of the cabin with wide eyes. It was all framed in and the roof was finally completed. Next week we were going to start sheathing the walls. “It’s going up faster than I thought it would,” she remarked, walking into my arms.

“Yeah.” I smiled against her hair, enjoying the scent of her as I held her to me for a moment longer than necessary. I loved the feel of Tessa in my arms. “The crew works fast.”

“No kidding,” she said dryly, peering up at me with a smile. “So…I missed you, I guess,” she added, her smile turning a little sinister as her eyes roamed over my face. The carnal need in her eyes made my dick harden.

“Did you, now?” I arched a brow, my hands dropping to her ass. I pulled her tighter to me, pushing my pelvis against hers. Even though I’d seen her almost every night that week, we hadn’t had a chance to be intimate; she’d been on her period. Instead, we spent our nights fishing on the lake and just…talking.