Faithful (35 page)

“That’s too bad,” Leo says softly.

“What is it?” I ask Carson.

Jess and Dylan flank me like two protective sentinels.

“Can I talk to you outside, Imogene?” Carson beckons me with his hand.

When I stand to leave the table, I notice the looks cast between Jess and Dylan and the rest of the table. They all know what’s going on with Cooper. It’s me; I’m the clueless one.

An early autumn chill blows across the porch as I follow Carson. I stand behind him as he looks out at the majestic view of hills that will be changing colors soon. I wrap my arms around myself, shivering, thinking about the summer fun that was short-lived. I’m already depressed, thinking about the upcoming cruel winter.

Carson turns around and looks glum.

“What’s wrong with Cooper?” My voice sounds tiny.

“How much did he tell you about his mom?”

“She’s an accountant or CFO … She’s divorced from his dad and lives across the street—”

“He didn’t tell you that she was diagnosed with ovarian cancer a few months ago?” Carson looks past me as if he’s debating on what he can say to me.

“No,” I utter in disbelief. “He told me there was family
drama.
That’s basically how he put it. His family had some issues, and he went there to help out. He didn’t give me any details. He said he was frustrated with his family.”

“It’s more than that,” Carson says. “His mother is dying. That’s why he’s been staying with her in Brooklyn.”

“Oh, no. I didn’t know any of this.”

I feel both sad for Cooper and selfishly hurt that he didn’t share this with me. If my mother was sick or dying, I’d like to think I’d turn to my friends and Cooper for solace. In all the time we were together, he didn’t once mention his mother’s illness or show any signs of grief.

“That was him on the phone,” Carson explains. “She’s had months of treatment and had a brief period of remission. Then she became sick again. They opened her up a couple of days ago to find the cancer had spread everywhere. Nothing more can be done, so they sent her home, and Cooper and his family are going to sit with her until the end. All they can do is minimize her pain.”

As I shiver, Carson puts his warm hands on my arms. “I broke up with him,”—my voice breaks—“but I really do care about him.”

“I know.”

“I should be there with him. I want to go see him now. Do you think I can do that?” I ask, almost pleading.

“Yes.” Carson nods as though he expects this from me.

“I haven’t been kind to Cooper over the past few weeks, and I haven’t called him once. Would my appearance be an intrusion on his family or his time with his mother?”

Carson grips my bare arms and looks down at me in earnest. “If I was sitting by my mother’s side, watching her die, I’d want Jess with me. If I was Cooper, I’d want to see you. I’m betting doing all the necessary things with his family, being strong and holding others up, is hard.”

“But we’re back to being friends again, friends that don’t speak,” I say quietly. “Are you sure?”

“Whatever is going on inside of him has to be hell, so he definitely needs you. I think you should go.”

“Good because I wasn’t going to change my mind.” A surge of relief and strength empowers me. “I need my jacket and car keys.” I turn to head back into the house.

“Wait.” Carson fidgets. “There’s something else I want to tell you, even though by doing this I’m breaking a promise to Cooper. I don’t give a shit anymore. You should know.”

“Know what?” I ask, unprepared for something more awful.

“The business loan—the investment money, I mean … It didn’t come from the venture capital group I belong to. They don’t invest in businesses as small as yours and only match funds.”

“I don’t understand. Lauren and I were with you and Archie in his office when we signed the papers. Why are you telling me now? I need to leave.”

“This is about Cooper. That’s why I’m telling you now so there are no more surprises. He approached me months ago about funding your business expansion. You kept putting Archie off about the loan, and Cooper thought he could help by fronting the money himself.”

“Cooper owns our business?” I ask, shocked.

“No,” Carson laughs weakly. “Archie is a sneaky lawyer, but he’s on your side. He wouldn’t let you sign contracts that could potentially hurt you. He agreed to Cooper’s plan because you and Lauren retain ownership, and it wasn’t a loan. Archie didn’t have you read the fine print. Remember that next time. Business 101: read the fine print. We set it up so, if it’s not paid off, it’s forgivable. There’s a hardship clause that relinquishes any liability. Archie drafted it. Well, Cooper set it up. It was his money.”

I’m awestruck that Carson and Archie kept this from me and that Cooper never mentioned it. While I can’t be angry with them for helping me, I am upset with my own poor business skills. Of course I should have read the fine print, but I trust Archie completely, and to him, he was doing Lauren and me a huge favor. He did.

“That was over fifty grand. Cooper has that kind of money?”

“Apparently. Guess he put away money for a rainy day.”

“That’s a big rainy day fund.”

Carson shrugs. “He did have a nice government job, and before he moved here, he worked non-stop and didn’t spend much on himself. You’ve seen his orange kitchen, haven’t you?” Carson barely smiles.

“Yes, but when did he come up with the idea to be the main investor?”

“Early spring. It was before Dylan and Emma got married. Cooper approached Archie and me about it. He also told Leo because he didn’t want any misunderstandings. Cooper thought it would give you two the kick in the ass to take your company seriously.”

“That’s before we started dating. I was kind of mean to him back then.”

“Kind of?” Carson looks at me pointedly.

“Fine. Very mean. What was the advantage of him doing this if the profits don’t come in for another year or so or if we fail and lose everything?”

“He gets the satisfaction of helping his friends, I suppose. It isn’t just you. He’s very close to Leo and Lauren. But I think you were the driving force behind his scheme. He is very … He really likes you, Imogene.”

“I’m going to go now.”

“Good.”

I head back into the warm house and search for my purse and car keys, grabbing a leather jacket while Carson fills the others in about my decision.

“Do you want me to drive you on my bike?” Dylan asks.

It’s adorable that he’s serious. I almost laugh at the thought of me holding on in terror to my favorite maniac as we speed down the interstate to New York City. “Thanks. No. I’d like to make it in one piece.” I pull his head down and kiss him on the cheek.

“Hey,” he says, wrapping his arms around me. “Go do what you have to do, Imogene. Cooper could use some of your strength.”

“Don’t you want to pack a bag?” Lauren asks.

I don’t want to waste time changing clothes. I’m wearing my nice jeans and a red, short-sleeve blouse under my leather jacket. My ballet flats will have to do. I just want to get on the road.

“No, I don’t want to be presumptuous and invite myself into his family’s home. I may be back tonight. I really don’t know.”

“I programmed the address of his mother’s home into the GPS,” Leo says, handing me my phone.

“Thank you.” I’m becoming nervous again as they all stare at me with compassion and worry. “I’ll be fine.”

When Carson walks me to my car, I can’t get to it fast enough. I’ve never been so happy to see my shit-mobile. For once, this crappy little car is my ticket to freedom, to see the person that has my heart in his ironclad fist.

“You sure you don’t want to take my car?” Carson looks dubiously at my car and kicks the front wheel. “Everyone borrows the Beemer. It would be a better ride.”

“I don’t care about the ride. I just want to get there.”

“Okay, but use the GPS. Don’t get lost down on Canal Street again, and pay attention to the bridges.”

“I will. You won’t have to rescue me again.”

“I don’t mind, but I want you to drive safely. Focus on the road. And, if you have any problems, you call me right away. You got it?”

“Yes, Dad,” I reply as I buckle myself in.

Carson leans in and gives me a peck on the cheek. “It’s good you’re doing this. Don’t worry. No matter how much shit you’ve given Cooper, he’s going to be glad to see you.”

“Coming from a big, dopey guy, that means a lot to me.” I shoot Carson a hopeful smile before I drive away.

Twenty-Seven

By late afternoon, I’m circling the Park Slope block, looking for a parking spot. I haven’t been to Brooklyn or anywhere, for that matter, in a long time, and I have forgotten that every place outside of little Hera has lots of people, lots of cars, lots of traffic, and absolutely no parking spots.

I wedge my car between two high-end luxury cars and walk the two blocks to Fiona MacKenzie’s home. I’m fairly certain that I’m parked illegally and may get towed, but I don’t care.

It’s a beautiful neighborhood of historic brownstones, and the cars and exquisitely renovated homes signify new money. As I walk by each home with its black iron gate, I peer in the windows to get a good look at what a three million dollar house in Brooklyn gets you. From what I can see, there are designer kitchens and living rooms that would make anyone drool. There are a few homes that haven’t been renovated, making me suspect the residents are older and have owned the home for generations.

One of the MacKenzie homes stands before me, four imposing floors towering tall and narrow above me. I have no idea what lurks behind the white shades that are drawn.

Drawing in a deep breath, I take the intimidating walk up the steep, front stoop. The door has a glossy black finish with a massive antique doorknocker. I’m thinking of how silly I would feel pounding that knocker when I spot the doorbell off to the side. I push it and wait, looking around at the pretty, tree-lined street.

The door is opened by a young woman who looks a bit older than me. She has long, dark hair, but her gray eyes and face resemble Cooper’s.

“Hello,” she states, her jeans and food-stained T-shirt suggesting that I’m not underdressed. The dark half-moons under eyes and the gaunt cheeks also give away the duress of the circumstances.

“Hello. I’m Imogene Walsh, a friend of Cooper’s.”

Her eyes glint with recognition of my name. “Imogene, hello. It’s so nice of you to come. I’m Greer. Here, come in.” She opens the door all the way and steps aside.

“Sorry, I should have called first, but no one has ever accused me of having good manners,” I blurt out.

I’m not trying to be funny, but Greer smiles anyway, her whole expression creasing with exhaustion. Of course, considering the noise level of the home’s inhabitants along with taking care of her mother, she must be running on nerves and caffeine.

“It’s no problem. We wouldn’t hear the phones, so it’s good you showed up.” She points her finger up and circles it in the air. “It’s so noisy here. All the relatives are hanging out at my mom’s house and the kids have taken over the place, as you can see.”

The living room to the left of the door is tastefully decorated with contemporary furniture and art work, and the couches and chairs are occupied by men and some teenagers who are watching a pre-season football game on the flat screen TV mounted on the far wall. At least a dozen children are running in and out of the living room and down the hallway.

“Hi, Imogene.” Peyton waves somberly from the couch.

I wave to him and the others I recognize, Evan and Uncle Fraser.

“Let’s go find Cooper for you,” Greer says, leading me up a narrow staircase to the right of the living room. “He’s on the second floor, helping Neil take care of the little kids so I can get some chores done.”

We enter a large room that seems like an all-purpose kids’ room with toys, a changing table, and two cribs. In the middle of the floor, Cooper and Neil are face down with their heads buried in their folded arms, small children walking up and down their backs. Three other kids are pushing toy cars over their heads and around their arms.

“Owen, stomp harder,” Cooper says gruffly. The little boy who must be about two begins jumping on Cooper’s back.

“Perfect, kiddo.”

A little girl is walking gingerly on Neil’s back to keep her balance.

“Massage time is over,” Greer announces. “Cooper, you have company.”

He looks up. “Imogene,” he says softly. “Owen, off.”

The little boy tumbles off his broad back as Cooper slowly rises to his knees and then stands up and hands Owen off to Greer. Neil acknowledges me with a head tilt.

“I have to go finish working in the kitchen,” Greer says to Cooper. “Why don’t you take Imogene down to the study so you can talk in private?”

“Who’s with Mom?” Cooper asks.

“Dad is still sitting with her.”

After Cooper nods at his sister, she leaves, and he studies me for a beat then gives me the faintest of smiles. A screaming wrestling match between two of the kids crawling on Neil prompts him to finally react.

“Come with me.”

I follow him down the hall to an empty office, decorated with feminine touches. It has two windows that overlook a tiny backyard. Cooper shuts the door behind us.

“Hi,” I say, hovering next to the tidy, modern desk.

“This is a nice surprise,” he says, staying close to the door.

I don’t know what the protocol for enemies-to-lovers-to-friends should be during a time like this, but I’m not going to waste this trip by pretending to be a shy, ridiculous girl. I step forward and throw my arms around his waist, pulling him in for a hug. I feel the tension release from his body, and then his arms wrap around me firmly.

“Hi,” he says, nuzzling my head.

“You didn’t call.” I hug him harder.

“You didn’t call, either, and there came a point where I thought maybe it was too late, that I should leave you alone.”

“I told you to call me if things got bad.
This
is bad, Cooper. It’s my fault, though. I should have been the one to check on you.”

“You’re here.” He pulls back and looks down at me. “Thank you.”