Love Me: Oakville Series:Book 5 (14 page)

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Authors: Kathy-Jo Reinhart

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BOOK: Love Me: Oakville Series:Book 5
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Over the last few years, the bond we’ve formed is like close siblings. I’ve seen the guys risk their own lives to help the others without a second thought. My throat goes dry and I have to swallow several times before I’m able to speak. “You will all hold each other together, I have no doubt about that.” A tear slips down his cheek and the sight breaks my heart. Seeing this big, strong man shedding tears over me is almost too much to take. “I love you, Angel. Now, get out of here and let me rest,” I say with a weak smile. It’s all I can muster.

He rises from the bed and wipes at his eyes. Leaning down, he places a kiss on my forehead. “I love you too, T,” he whispers before walking from the room. I roll onto my side and allow the tears to flow. Saying goodbye to all the people I love is going to be harder than I thought.

 

C
hase and I are in the kitchen making sandwiches for a picnic at the lake. After making turkey and cheddar cheese on white bread with no crust—Chase’s favorite—I work on my roast beef sandwich and watch as Chase takes special care in making a peanut butter and banana sandwich for his mom. I hope she’ll have enough of an appetite to eat it. Our little man will be awfully disappointed if she can’t. He’s concentrating so hard as he spreads the peanut butter on the bread. The way his nose crinkles up as he gently bites down on his bottom lip reminds me so much of Taryn. He looks over at me and smiles. One day, that smile will be making girls swoon. Placing the slices of banana evenly on top of the peanut butter and adding the top slice of bread, he glances down at the sandwich then back at me.

“How’d I do, Daddy? Will Mommy like it?” he questions, his tone hopeful. He’s so excited about today. Taryn has had a couple good days—the calm before the storm as she calls it. She said she wanted one more family picnic by the lake because she knows that’s one of Chase’s favorite things to do. What my baby wants, my baby will get. Chase insisted on making a sandwich for his mommy all by himself. He’s been so helpful over the last few months, always checking on Taryn, asking her if she needs or wants anything and getting it for her if she does. She tries hard to hide from Chase when she’s really sick, but he sees more than she thinks he does. He’s been a real trooper, though. He’s only had one major breakdown.

“She’s gonna love it, sport,” I assure him, and he gives me a wide, toothy grin. I place the sandwich in a Ziploc bag for him and add it to the picnic basket. We have all of Taryn’s favorites—a fruit salad with strawberries, kiwi, and raspberries, and a bottle of sparkling grape juice. She would prefer champagne, but with all the medication she’s on, that’s not such a good idea. And for dessert, we have chocolate chip cheesecake. She’ll most likely only be able to eat a bite or two of each item, but at least she’ll have a taste of her favorite things. The important thing is we will be creating one more good memory for Chase and I to hold onto when she’s gone. My heart clenches at the thought. I stare down at the gold band on my finger as tears fill my eyes. I just can’t imagine my life without her. We were supposed to be together until we were old and gray. The whole “till death do us part” shouldn’t be happening this soon.

“Are you okay, Daddy?” Chase asks, his eyes full of worry. My heart breaks for him. He’s been so tough—so strong through all of this. I know he’s just putting on a brave face for his mother and me. It’s the same thing I’ve been doing for him and Taryn. Deep down, we are both being torn apart, but we’re trying our damnedest to be strong for one another. I take a seat at the table and pat my leg, motioning for Chase to sit in my lap. He walks over and jumps up. He’s getting so big. I remember the first day we brought him home like it was yesterday. He was so tiny, every time I held him I was terrified I’d break him.

“I’m okay, little man,” I say, looking down into his sweet face. He gives me a relieved smile. He’s still a little boy, all pure and innocent. I’m so scared that’s all going to change when Taryn is gone. “How are you doing?” I question, even though I know the answer. His bottom lip trembles and he looks away.

“I’m sad. Sometimes at night, I cry,” he admits, his voice quiet and shaky. “I try not to. I know boys aren’t supposed to cry, but I can’t stop it,” he says quickly, as if he’s done something wrong.

“I’m sad too, little man. I cry sometimes, too. There’s nothing wrong with crying when you’re sad.” His eyes fill with tears and my heart shatters at the sight. How am I going to get us through this? I’m not sure I have what it takes to be strong enough for both of us.

“But I want to be strong like you,” he says, and I hate myself for it. Have I taught him or given him the impression it’s not okay to show emotions? I gently lift his chin so I can see into his eyes. I want him to really hear and understand what I’m about to say.

“Part of being a strong man is being able to show how you feel. To be able to talk about what you’re feeling. You can talk to me about anything. You know that, right?” He nods his head slowly. “What’s happening to Mommy is hard for all of us, and it’s okay to be angry and sad. The important thing is you talk to me about it so I can help you work it out. We need to be a team and help each other, okay?” I hold my fist out, waiting for him to bump his against mine. A bright smile crosses his face.

“Okay, Daddy.” I place him on his feet and stand. “Daddy,” he says, turning around and looking up at me, “I love you.”

“I love you too, little man,” I tell him. Those three words spoken in his sweet little voice and that bright toothy smile of his stops the ache in my heart—at least for now.

Just as Chase and I finish getting the food for our picnic ready, the doorbell rings. We both look at each other and shrug. I bend down, allowing him to jump on my back, and carry him through the house to answer the door. As I open the door, I’m shocked to see Paul, Kyle, Angel, Chelsie, Amber, and Holly all smiling back at me. The girls all have their hands filled with cleaning supplies and the guys have tools and a wheelbarrow full of construction materials. What the hell?

“So, we are here to help Taryn get ready for your day out. Then we girls are going to clean the house. We know how Taryn likes this place spit-shined and is annoyed she hasn’t been able to clean it the way she likes,” Holly states as she pushes her way into the house. I just shake my head. There’s no point arguing with her, or any of the girls, for that matter. I give the guys a questioning look. Now that I know the reason the women are here, I’m curious as to why the guys are here.

“Since you decided to go all Hulk on the garage bathroom, we thought we’d take care of remodeling it. Everything we need is in the truck. The girls picked out all the tile, fixtures, and paint colors so it will look great,” Angel says before they all move past me into the house. I’ve always felt very lucky and blessed to have this amazing group of people around me, but right now, they are my lifeline. Kyle pats me on the shoulder and gives Chase a high five. The look in his eyes tells me he knows exactly what I’m thinking. These guys and their wives are my brothers and sisters—my best friends. I wouldn’t survive this if it weren’t for all of them.

The guys walk out into the garage and open the door. Kyle’s truck is backed into the driveway with a small trailer loaded with materials attached. There’s also three large boxes containing a toilet, vanity, and porcelain sink. I can’t believe they did all this. Tears begin welling up in my eyes. I’m so emotional lately. Damn. I’m turning into a fucking woman.

 

“Let’s go, cupcake. Man up and help us carry all this shit into the garage,” Angel says with a laugh. I shake my head, flip him off, causing him to laugh harder, and get my emotional girly ass to lifting.

 

 

I
sit up in bed and slide my legs until they are dangling over the edge. I hurt—everywhere. Any movement I make causes pain to shoot through my entire body. Hell, even when I don’t move it hurts. The cancer has spread. This fucking disease is eating me alive from the inside out. Along with the unbearable pain, I’m also exhausted all the time. Just the simple task of brushing my teeth tires me out. Most of my time is spent sitting in this bed trying not to go out of my mind. It’s like I’m just sitting around waiting to die, but that’s exactly what’s happening. I can feel death take hold of me a little more each day. Helpless and useless are what I am. I can’t do a damn thing to stop this disease. Marcus is stuck taking care of Chase, me, and most of all, himself. That’s my job. I should be taking care of my boys. No matter how much I want to, I just can’t.

So far, I’ve been able to put on a brave face, not letting anyone see how much agony I’m in, both physically and mentally. The only person who knows the truth is my doctor. Marcus is doing the same thing. I know he’s hurting and scared, but he hasn’t talked to me about any of it. Knowing my sweet husband, it’s because he doesn’t want me to feel guilty or worry about him. Chase is always full of smiles when he’s around me, but they don’t fool me. I’m his mother. I know when my son is hurting. There are conversations that need to take place between us all. This can’t be avoided forever. Besides, I don’t have that much time left. We need to tell each other what we’re feeling before I get to a point where that’s not possible.

A loud knock at my door startles me. I snap my head up just as Holly, Amber, and Chelsie stroll inside. “Are you trying to give me a heart attack and kill me quicker?” I joke. By the looks of horror on their faces, I’m guessing they didn’t find it as funny as I did. Amber narrows her gaze and stalks closer to the bed, her chocolate eyes blazing.

“That wasn’t funny,” she states. Her nostrils flare and her entire body stiffens. Immediately, I feel bad. I always forget my friends are having a harder time coming to terms with what’s happening to me than I am. I’ve accepted the fact that I will die. Do I want to? Of course not, but it’s happening no matter what I want. Still, I refuse to just rot away to nothing without a fight. I will hang on for as long as I possibly can. What they need to realize is sometimes I have to laugh at it all. If I don’t, I’ll go in-fucking-sane.

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