through a rough time,” Brent says. “And I’m sorry for it. I hate that Liv has to go through this. But that doesn’t mean you can lay into people, especially Allie. You do that again, and you and I are going to have a serious problem.”
“I know. I came to apologize.”
“I’ll pass on the message.” He steps back, his eyes cold. “But stay away from her now. She’s been so upset over this whole thing and she—”
I look behind him to where Allie is approaching the door. She’s pale, her expression worried and sad.
“Allie, I…” Something sticks in my throat. “I’m really sorry.”
She puts her hand on Brent’s arm when he starts to speak.
“I know,” she says. “How is Liv?”
For a second, I can’t even answer her. I swallow hard and manage to say, “She…she’s in the hospital. Her wrist is sprained, but when we were at the emergency room, they discovered she had a fever. So her oncologist wanted to admit her for blood tests.”
Allie’s shoulders slump. “Oh no.”
“She’ll be okay. They’re treating her with antibiotics and will probably keep her there for a few days.”
Tears glisten in Allie’s eyes. “Give her my best, would you?”
I nod, unable to draw any kind of connection between Allie’s distancing herself from Liv and her obvious concern. It makes no sense.
I turn and go back down the steps.
Man, the world can be a fucked-up place.
Archer’s comment echoes through my head.
Yeah. And there are some things you never understand. No matter how hard you try.
Chapter 34
Dean
Nothing is right without Liv here.
Claire brings pizza home for dinner, then makes chocolate chip cupcakes with the kids—and while she is keeping things more normal and even enjoyable than I ever could right now, I can’t help resenting the fact that she’s here—young, healthy, laughing with my children—while Liv is lying in a hospital bed battling both cancer and a goddamned infection.
“Can I have a bowl of chocolate chips?” Nicholas asks, as Claire breaks open the bag and Bella dumps a cup of flour into a bowl.
“You can have chocolate chips inside the cupcakes when they’re done,” Claire says, unfazed by the growing mess on the counter.
“Chocolate chippies,” Bella shouts.
“Dean, do you want to join us?” Claire asks, gesturing to the frosting. “We could use some help decorating after they’re baked.”
Though part of me feels like I should, any attempt I make at lightheartedness will be hollow. I decline, instead going to the basement to finish a load of laundry.
I have an unexpected wish that Archer was in town. Not only did I appreciate him waiting with me during Liv’s surgery, our kickboxing classes and work on the tree house have given me something good to focus on.
Plus Archer has such a great relationship with the kids. The air seems to change for the better when he’s around. It’s both humbling and a little strange to think of my brother that way.
Bella comes to get me when the cupcakes are done, and then we spend an hour having milk and cupcakes while playing Hi Ho Cherry-O.
Claire gets Bella ready for bed while I corral Nicholas by grabbing him in a bear hug and hauling him into his room. After a few minutes of laughing and struggling to escape, he maneuvers to wrap his arms and legs around me.
I tighten my hold on him. Love—hard, fast, painful—floods my chest. I think for the millionth time how desperately I want to keep him and Bella safe, that I would do anything, anything, to protect them.
As always, that intense wish is followed by the cold knowledge that I can’t. There is nothing I can do to fully guarantee their safety in the world.
Nothing.
“Will Mom be home tomorrow?” Nicholas asks.
“I hope so. She wants to come home as much as we want her to.”
“I hate that she’s sick.”
“Me too.” I lower him onto his Superman-patterned sheets and pull the covers up. “But she’s on the road to getting better. That’s what all the doctors and medicine are helping her do. Get better.”
That doesn’t seem to comfort him much. I sit beside him on the bed and rub his hair.
“Get a good night’s sleep,” I say. “Tomorrow we can make some decorations to put up when Mom comes home. Maybe we can even get some balloons.”
“The floating kind?” A spark of interest appears on his face.
“Yeah, the floating kind.”
“Can we get a whole big bunch?”
“As many as you want.”
“And streamers like we had for my birthday?”
“Streamers too. And you can make Welcome