What it Takes (12 page)

“Problems?” A scowl briefly crossed his face. “With your sister?”

“No.” She shook her head. “Janelle may’ve been unhappy with me, but she’s familiar with his drinking, his gambling, and his temper. With that combination, she’d have understood.”

“Then who? His family?” Kelsey shook her head and Patrick’s frown returned. “Your family?”

She nodded. “My mother.” His brow furrowed even deeper. “She’s rather . . .” Kelsey paused to think of the right word, “. . . attached to Richard. She would’ve blamed me in some way for his outburst and arrest.”

“Why?”

“Why what, specifically?” She laughed bitterly at such a loaded question. There were so many reasons she could give that would answer it.

“Why’s she so attached to Richard?”

Kelsey closed her eyes and frowned. Patrick took her hand and gave her fingers a gentle squeeze. “My mother’s father was a lot like Richard,” she began when she reopened her eyes. “He liked to drink a lot and had a temper, and Mom grew up watching my grandmother do whatever it took to keep my grandfather happy.”

Patrick shook his head. “But wouldn’t that make her wary of alcoholics?”

“You’d think, but as a young girl, I’m not sure she realized he was a drunk. But like I said, what Mom saw was my grandmother bending over backward to please him and being rewarded with what she thought was a happy husband.” Kelsey shrugged. “If he did get angry, my mother didn’t understand that it was the alcohol that caused him to lash out.”

“Does your dad drink?”

Kelsey shook her head. “No, he’s the complete opposite of my grandfather. But Mom still interacted with him the way that she saw her parents interact. Dad’s not the abusive type so Mom never had a reason to second-guess her methods. She raised us with the same philosophy.” Kelsey looked toward the window as she continued. “We were always expected to do everything for our brother and father when she couldn’t.” To prepare them for their husbands.

“You have a brother?”

“I
had
a brother,” she started, then paused again. There was so much she could tell him about her brother. “His name was Sean, and he was three years older than me.” She grinned as her eyes went out of focus. “He’d love to say, ‘Hey Kels, watch this,’ just before he did something stupid that always got me in trouble. One time he said it then took a running leap out of our tree house. Janelle and I screamed when we saw him crumpled on the ground below us. How he walked away with only a broken arm, I’ll never know, but he told Mom I’d pushed him.”

Kelsey shook herself out of her daze and looked at Patrick again. “Mom sent me to my room while she took Sean to the hospital. Janelle sat outside my door and we cried together, not knowing what was wrong. When they got home, Mom wouldn’t let me come out for dinner, so Sean snuck dessert up to me then sat in the hallway and talked to me while I ate it.” She smiled sadly at the fond memory. “If it hadn’t been for Dad, he probably would’ve been a spoiled brat. Dad managed to teach him manners and respect and kept him grounded.”

“What happened to him?” Patrick asked softly as he ran his thumb over her knuckles.

“Sean followed Janelle and Richard to college and picked up some of Richard’s bad habits, especially binge drinking, but then I knew a lot of guys in college who did.” Her voice cracked and she began blinking back the tears. “In the fall of his sophomore year, he moved into an apartment about ten minutes from Richard and Janelle’s. One night while Janelle was at work, Sean was at their apartment, drinking with Richard and some friends.” Kelsey began repeatedly clenching her free fist around the bed sheet. “Around midnight, Sean wanted to go home but no one could drive him. Richard reminded him that they had a spare bedroom, but Sean insisted and Richard let him go. Five minutes down the road, Sean wrapped his car around a tree.”

She choked on a lump in her throat as she remembered the events of that fateful night. The tears burned her eyes and she couldn’t look at Patrick, afraid she’d start to cry before she finished the story. He squeezed her fingers and slid closer to her.

With a nod in his direction, she swallowed the pain. “Janelle got the call at work and rushed to the hospital. Witnesses said he met another car and, even though they were completely in their own lane, he swerved like he was trying to miss them and lost control.” A tear rolled down her cheek.

Patrick listened intently, feeling a sympathy so strong it took him by surprise. He wanted to wrap Kelsey in his arms but instead rested his palm on her cheek and thumbed her tear away. She leaned into his hand and his heart leapt to his throat.

“It took us an hour to get there,” Kelsey continued her story. “Janelle was with him when he died, but she said he never regained consciousness.”

He pulled her head to his shoulder and offered what comfort he could as her tears soaked his shirt. He closed his eyes, breathed slowly, deeply, wishing he could take her pain away. Patrick had seen the look in her eyes and heard the pain in her voice. He knew she’d been close to her brother. He couldn’t begin to imagine what he would do if anything happened to his sister. The thought was unbearable.

The doctor entered the room and Patrick was suddenly aware of how close they were. He tapped her shoulder and, teary eyed, she looked at him. He nodded toward the door before he slid away. She wiped her cheeks then turned to look at the doctor.

“Hi, Ms. Morgan. My name is Dr. Statler.” He held a hand out to her and she shook it. “It’s nice to meet you. What can I do for you today?” The doctor looked over her chart then examined her injury. “How’d you manage to do this?” She explained what had happened and he nodded as he listened. “It looks like you’ll need a tetanus shot and about seven stitches, so let me get that ready and I’ll be right back.” He left as quickly as he had come in.

“I’m sorry about your brother,” Patrick said after a brief silence. “Does that have anything to do with your mother’s attachment to your brother-in-law?”

Kelsey turned her head and looked at him over her shoulder. “When Sean died, Mom locked herself in his room. She came out for the visitation and the funeral but was otherwise absent. Dad did his best to cheer her up and get her out, but she refused. I tried bringing her food, but she wouldn’t eat it. That lasted for about a month, until Janelle and Richard came home for Christmas.” Kelsey sighed and looked at her lap. “Richard was a different person. Janelle said he hadn’t had a drink since the accident. The first night he was visiting us, he sat with Mom for about thirty minutes. He told stories about Sean and the things they used to do. As the month wore on, he was able to pull her out of her isolation. She loved listening to his stories and he always tried to tell a different one. That was when they really connected.”

He felt his temper rise. “He let your brother go home that night. Didn’t she hold him responsible?” Patrick couldn’t place the emotion simmering just below, actually fueling his anger. The pain she’d felt and was still feeling, called to something deep within him. When she shook her head, he almost snapped, “Not at all?”

She looked at him, her brow crinkled as she leaned away slightly. Tentatively, she touched his hand. “You don’t understand. Because of her father, Sean and Richard’s behavior was acceptable. If anything, she blamed Janelle for a while.”

His eyes rounded in surprise. “You’re kidding?”

She squeezed his fingers and shook her head as she continued. “Janelle couldn’t take care of Sean when he needed her. To Mom, that was a total failure on Janelle’s part.”

“How long ago did this happen?”

“Eleven years,” she answered then stared over his shoulder and quietly added, “almost exactly.” She pictured Sean’s smiling face and, for a moment, went back in time. So many times since Sean died, she’d wished for his voice, his jokes, his advice, even his brotherly teasing.

“So, given everything that’s happened with Richard in the last eleven years, what’s the attachment now?” Patrick put his hand on the bed behind her and turned his body to hers.

“He’s replaced Sean as her son, in part because he’s married to my sister and in part because he brought her back to the land of the living. But Richard was also sober until a few years ago.” Kelsey leaned closer, seeking the warmth and strength of Patrick’s body. “So, Mom ignores his drinking, doesn’t know about his gambling, and if he gets angry with Janelle or me, she blames us.”

Patrick inhaled sharply and gently ran the back of his hand along her upper arm. She tried to hide a shudder as she watched his hand, then raised her eyes and met his.

“She prefers him to you too?”

She nodded slowly.

“What could you’ve possibly done to deserve that?” he murmured.

She blushed and looked away. “I’m not perfect,” she almost whispered.

“You seem pretty close to me,” Patrick said.

She quickly turned and locked eyes with him. Her heart fluttered when his gaze shifted to her mouth and he slowly leaned toward her. His head tilted slightly and she felt a pleasant wave of anticipation rush through her.

One quick knock on the door was the only warning they had before the doctor entered, followed immediately by a nurse carrying a tray. Kelsey exhaled slowly as they both pulled away. Kelsey noticed the young, attractive, blonde nurse staring directly at Patrick. The nurse tilted her head this way and that, even leaned forward a little, showing a bit of her cleavage, and pouted. Kelsey fought not to roll her eyes in disgust. When the doctor picked up the needle for the tetanus shot, Kelsey cringed and turned her head.

Patrick took her good hand and put his lips to her temple. “Squeeze my hand if you need to.”

She smiled weakly. “Thank you.”

With a nod, he sat up and watched Dr. Statler work. When the needle pierced the skin at her thumb, she squeezed Patrick’s hand and felt a wave of nausea. He gave her a reassuring pat and slid his body a half inch closer, but his eyes focused intently on the doctor’s work. She felt a tug and gave his hand another squeeze. Feeling a slight satisfaction, she glanced at the nurse again. She was still staring at Patrick and trying desperately to get his attention. Kelsey looked up at Patrick’s face, too, ridiculously pleased to find him absorbed in what the doctor was doing.

As she covertly watched him, she couldn’t help but wonder what, if anything, he was thinking. To distract herself from being sewn up, she reviewed everything she’d told Patrick and worried she’d said too much. If he’d thought she was an oddball before—given where she grew up, her feelings about his casual sex habit, and the fact that she tried hard to keep her personal and professional lives separate—this was probably just the icing on the cake. He’d just met her alcoholic brother-in-law and learned her mother was an enabler. She was starting to regret telling him anything and wished now that she could take it all back.

Patrick glanced at her face and frowned slightly as she felt another tug and squeezed his hand. “He’s almost done,” he whispered in her ear.

A shudder traveled down her spine. She wished he didn’t have that effect on her.

She nodded and slowly glanced up at him. He was still watching the doctor sew up her hand, so she glanced at it too. Dr. Statler was tying up the last stitch but Kelsey had to look away as the room started to spin. Patrick’s arm slid around her back, supporting her, and she fought the urge to lean against him further. She thought she heard the nurse grumble.

“There we go, Ms. Morgan, we’re all done.” Dr. Statler placed his tools back on the tray and the nurse frowned as she left. Kelsey turned to look at the doctor as he gave her instructions on caring for her hand. When he was done, he smiled at her. “Do you have any questions?” Kelsey shook her head and he continued, “Well then, I’ll have the nurse get all your paperwork together and she’ll be back in just a bit. Take care.” He left the room, closing the door behind him.

Patrick held Kelsey’s hand as he pulled out his cell phone and called for their car. They were physically too close for her peace of mind so she stood and walked to the window. With her side to the window, her back almost against the wall, she glanced at Patrick as he remained seated, staring at her as he finished the call. When he hung up, he slowly stepped closer to her, never taking his eyes off of her face.

“So, can I ask you another question?” he asked and she eventually nodded. “How does your dad feel about Richard?”

“He’s not fond of him at all.” She turned her back to the window as he stopped in front of her. “Actually, that’s probably too kind,” she softly added after some thought.

“That’s a relief.” Patrick studied her for a moment. “It sounds like your parents have different views on your brother-in-law, so why doesn’t your dad say something to your mom about it?”

Kelsey shrugged. “Dad cuts her some slack because he understands her childhood. He’s learned to pick his battles.”

He narrowed his eyes and pressed his lips together. “This is a pretty big battle, don’t you think?”

“They don’t argue about much and they each know whose corner the other is in. Mom has always played favorites—first with Sean, now Richard. Dad’s always tried to make up for it with Janelle and me,” she said resignedly. “He held Richard a little more responsible for Sean’s death than Mom did, but when Richard stopped drinking and was able to pull Mom out of her depression, Dad was willing to forgive. When Richard fell off of the wagon, Dad offered to help him get back on it.” Patrick narrowed his eyes. Clearly he thought that hers was a weak argument, but it was her reality. “But when Janelle wanted to leave, Dad was there to help her pack. There isn’t much interaction between Richard and the rest of the family anymore and when there is, Dad has our backs.”

“Good.” Patrick nodded once and leaned against the other side of the wide window. Kelsey noticed the distance he maintained between them and felt slightly saddened. But she knew it was probably better that way.

When the nurse—a different one—returned with the paperwork, Kelsey left the window and met the woman in the middle of the room to sign it. When they were alone again, Patrick held his position at the window, silently looking out; Kelsey sat on the edge of the bed and studied her hand. The stitches were covered with a bandage, not much to look at, but she studied them as she built her resolve back up. She’d told Patrick more than he needed to know about her life, information that she was sure would cool any interest he may’ve had in her.