EPILOGUE
Thanksgiving
“We need to go to the hospital.”
I dropped the Allen wrench I was using to put the crib together on the floor and jumped to my feet. Cora was in the doorway to the nursery twisting her hands together.
“The baby?” I didn’t want to ask; the worst thing I could think of started chasing through my mind even though she had just had a checkup and come away from it the epitome of good health. We also knew we were having a little girl, which blew my mind and already had me in a state of perpetual panic.
“No, it’s Phil. Nash just called. It’s bad. Dad’s already in the truck waiting on us.”
Cora’s dad, Joe, had finally flown out for the holidays and to my relief I got on with the older sailor just fine. Instead of going to Brookside with Rule and Shaw for Thanksgiving with my folks, we had stayed in town and done the holiday thing with just the three of us. Cora had tried to get Nash to bring his uncle, but Phil was still acting strange. He was still avoiding Nash and not showing up at the shop, which had prompted Nash to plan a surprise Thanksgiving invasion of his uncle’s fishing cabin on the outskirts of Boulder.
“What’s wrong?”
She shook her head and I could see the worry etched on her pretty face. I pulled her into a tight hug and her arms immediately went around my waist.
“Nash didn’t know. He said when he got to the cabin he thought it was empty, but Phil’s bike was there. He broke in the door and Phil was unconscious on the floor. He had to call Park Service to get help to get him out. They apparently airlifted him here. I called Rule and he and Shaw are on the way down the mountain. Rowdy, Jet, and Ayden are at the bar with Asa, doing Thanksgiving for the vets, but it’s almost over. Ayden said they would meet us there, but if it’s as bad as Nash made it sound, I don’t know that he’s going to want a crowd around. Dad and Phil go way back, so there’s no way I can keep him from going.”
“If I need to run interference I will, Half-Pint. You know it.”
She gave me a hard squeeze and I saw her put her protective mask in place. She was a warrior in her own right, always ready to march into battle and protect the ones she loved from anything she thought could do them harm or hurt them. I gave one last look at the delicate, white crib and followed her out the bedroom door. Disarming a roadside bomb was easier than putting together baby furniture. All the little parts and pieces were not designed for a guy with paws like mine. At least Cora found it hilarious every time she walked in to find me swearing and threatening death upon inanimate objects.
We put the nursery in Asa’s old room because Jet and Ayden still had a few months until the remodel of his studio was done. Jet was gone so much and Ayden was so busy with work and school I hardly saw either of them. In fact, aside from my girl and brunch on Sunday with the family, the only person I really saw a lot of was Asa. I was busy with the bar because the bar was busy and he was simply my right-hand man. I didn’t know if we clicked because we both filled the role of big brother, or if it was because we were both men trying to redefine how we saw ourselves and how others saw us, but we just did. I knew enough to know that he was wily, and crafty; the last two bar fights I had been forced to break up had been because of girls he left high and dry or who hadn’t bothered to remember they had a boyfriend before going home with the Southern charmer. There was no doubt he was trouble, but so was Rule. I knew all about how to handle it and I liked to consider the guy a buddy.
I hoisted Cora up into the cab of the truck and roared on to the hospital. She was quiet and her dad was tense. I didn’t bother with platitudes because one military man didn’t try and fool another. The situation was unknown, but with Phil’s strange behavior and the way he had been avoiding everyone who loved him, it didn’t bode well. I grabbed Cora’s hand and felt the way it trembled in my own. She was scared, but she would power through it like she always did.
We filed into the hospital, following behind her dad. He had a take-no-prisoners kind of demeanor that was very similar to Cora’s, and he got us to the emergency wing way faster than we would have had we been on our own. We came around the corner of the waiting room and there was no missing Nash. That shaved head with the flames tattooed on either side of it was bent down and he was staring intently into the gray eyes of the very pretty redheaded nurse. I kind of considered her a good-luck charm, so I was glad she was there. Cora called his name and his head jerked up to look at us. Something twisted in my chest when I saw that there were very obvious tracks of moisture on his face. Those periwinkle eyes were liquid with sorrow and heartache.
The nurse put a hand on his cheek and he reached up to wrap his fingers around her slim wrist. She said something to him and he nodded solemnly. She pulled her hand away and walked the opposite direction down the hallway. I inclined my head in the direction she went and tapped Joe on the elbow.
“You might want to talk to her. Let your little girl handle Nash. She’s good at dealing with her boys.”
He gave a sharp nod and took off after the nurse. Cora pulled free of my hold and went and wrapped herself around Nash. His big body gave a shudder and he buried his face in the curve of her neck. I didn’t know what to do with myself, but when he looked up, those lapis eyes locked on to mine.
“Cancer. Fucking lung cancer. They’re calling in an oncologist right now, but it’s bad.”
I sucked in a breath and saw that Cora was shaking, too. That wasn’t good news.
“I’m so sorry, man.”
He blinked like he was in a daze and pulled away from my girl. He scrubbed his hands roughly over his bald scalp and started to pace back and forth like some kind of wild animal in a cage. I pulled Cora back into my arms and ran my hands up and down her back when I felt her tears slide against my neck where she shoved her face.
“I knew something was wrong. For months and months he’s been acting weird, not returning calls. He was all gung ho to get a new shop opened, and then that just fell off the map. I let it go and let it go. Hell, I thought he had a new girlfriend he didn’t want anyone to know about, but no, it’s motherfucking cancer. Jesus Christ, smoking. All from goddamn smoking.”
“Nash, take a breath. You don’t know how bad it is or if it’s treatable yet. Don’t jump the gun.”
He swore some more and kept moving rapidly back and forth in front of us. His nervous energy was like an electrical charge making the hairs on my arms stand up. I wanted to tell him everything would be fine, that it would all work out, but before I got the chance to say anything, a petite woman with jet-black hair, dressed like she had just left high tea, followed by a man who clearly wore a suit every day and bossed peons around for a living, burst into the small waiting room. I didn’t know who they were, but Cora went stiff in my arms and Nash stopped pacing. The look on his face would have been enough to frighten a herd of stampeding elephants, but not this lady. She shrieked, “Nashville. Oh, honey, the hospital just called us. Are you okay?”
She hugged him hard, and I didn’t miss that he didn’t return the gesture. He looked at me and then back at the woman, then purposely took a step away from her. I peeked at Cora, who mouthed “his mom,” and turned my attention back to the family drama that made the Archers look like the Brady Bunch.
“What are you doing here, Mom? Why would the hospital call you?”
The woman fiddled with the strap on her purse. I was having a hard time seeing any of Nash in her. She was small and pale of complexion; he might have inherited his dark hair from her, but that was all I could tell.
“I’m Phil’s next of kin on all his paperwork. The hospital had to call me. I’m also his power of attorney.”
Nash glared. “Why you? Why would he have you on all that stuff, Mom?”
The woman took a nervous step away from her obviously emotional and enraged son. “He was going to turn it all over to you once the final tests came back.”
You could’ve heard a pin drop. I felt Cora gasp and let go of her because I was actually worried I was going to have to physically restrain my brother’s best friend.
“You knew? You knew how sick he was?” Nash’s voice blasted across the hospital walls like a gunshot. The man that had followed his mom in—her husband, I assumed—went to take a step toward Nash, but I reached out a hand and shook my head.
“Wouldn’t do that, friend.”
He sneered at me and looked at my hand like it was covered in shit.
“And who are you?”
I lifted my eyebrow.
“I’m nobody, but if you think you’re going to get in the middle of that, I’m the guy that’ll be happy to stop you.”
His eyes slid over the top of my head, across my shoulders, and looked at where my pixie was shooting him the death glare from my side, where she was safely tucked away. Apparently he saw that I meant business because he huffed and crossed his arms over his chest like a sulking child.
“Nash.” The woman was pleading but he wasn’t having any of it.
“How long, Mom? How long has he been sick? How bad is it?”
She looked away and bit her lower lip. Nash put his hands on her slight shoulders and gave her a little shake. I thought for a second the hospital security might show up or the rest of the crew, but so far it was just us and Nash’s life unfolding in front of him.
“He got sick at the end of last year. They had to remove part of his lung. He didn’t want anyone to know. The doctors thought it was contained but it metastasized and spread. He’s in stage three. It’s possibly moved to his lymph nodes. He was waiting on the test results. He didn’t want you to worry, Nash.”
Nash swore long and loud, and Cora pulled away from me to go and soothe him.
“Worry! You don’t think a heads-up would’ve been nice before I stumbled across what I thought was his corpse? Jesus Christ, Mom!”
“You need to calm down.”
“The last thing I need to do is calm down. Why would he tell you all this and not me? I’m his family. Hell, I’m more his son than his nephew.”