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“Hey, that’s okay. It’ll be fine, remember?” I raise my brows at her. “Go be there with your mom, and then come back here. I’m not quite done with you.”
I pull her chin up to meet her eyes and smooth my thumb across her bottom lip. She leans into the touch, briefly closing her eyes.
“I… I don’t have to go. I don’t want to leave you alone after… You’ve got one more day, right?”
There’s a playfulness to her voice, but her eyes betray the sadness clinging inside her, and I wonder what “after” she’s talking about. No doubt it’s my father; pity making her feel the need to stay.
That bastard is taking more from me, and he’s not even in the room.Looks like you bought yourself a nice one!
He’s fucking right. I may as well have paid for a hooker.God damn it all to hell. I am a monster.
I fumble with the sheets before looking back up in Macy’s direction, but past her. “Hey, don’t worry about me. You should go. This is your mom, after all. She’s the reason you got in debt in the first place. Really, you should go. I’ll be here.”
My voice is tight, just like the pain locked in my chest.
I hear Macy suck in a shaky breath, and that’s when I finally meet her eyes. Tears prick at the corners and break free as she blinks, dripping down her face in fat droplets. She quickly wipes them away with a trembling hand.
“Hey, hey, hey. Are you okay? What’s wrong?”
“It’s nothing. Just the stupid visit. I’m just… I’m just nervous.”
It’s Sunday. I should be pulling back, reigning in the feelings that have started because this is ending. But all I can do is wipe the fresh tears spilling from Macy’s eyes and pull her against me.
“Hey, now. Strong, remember?” I look down at her. “Would…would you like me to take you?”
Macy’s tearful eyes light up, and she sits back up in front of me. “Would you? I’d… Oh, God,” her words are as shaky as her hands. “That would mean the world to me.”
“No problem. How about we go get you something new to wear, considering the incident with the zipper last night, and then we can go meet her together?”
“You’re amazing. Thank you, Jett.”
My heart is the size of a watermelon. “Of course.”
* * *
When we pull into the hospital parking lot, Macy seems to be controlling her panic a bit better. The new outfit she’s chosen will probably make her poor mother have a heart attack, though. The tank and shorts really aren’t that bad, considering most people’s standards, but it’s the most I’ve seen of Macy’s skin out in public.
And I’m not sure how I feel about that.
I pull the car into a spot near the back and shut off the engine. “You ready to go in?”
Macy snaps her attention to me, something else clearly stealing her focus, and smiles at me. “Yeah. It’s fine. Strong, right?”
Her crooked smile appears below worried eyes, but she nods and sits up straighter in her chair, unbuckling.
“Strong. Routine check-up. Everything is fine.”
I meet her stare dead on, doing my best to show no worry or pity. She’s got this. I’m just backup.
“Thank you again, Jett. Really.” Her voice is even and focused.
“Any time.”
We walk up to the building and meet her mom in the waiting area. She raises a brow at my presence, but doesn’t say anything. The nurse quickly escorts her into an exam room, and Macy and I are left sitting in the uncomfortable chairs out front.
Macy fiddles with a wrapper from a mint she plucked from the counter, and I can hear it clacking against her teeth as she twirls the thing in her mouth. She’s given an excellent 1000-yard-stare and has met any question or comment I make with a non-committal “uh-huh.”
The room is quiet, the low volume of the TV barely breaking through the air. It’s showing a home design program, and the flippers are complaining about a late sink installation. Several other people are in the waiting area. Old, young, alone, accompanied. The diversity would be nice if we weren’t visiting an oncology specialist.
