Close Match Page 8

  “Great. Just another thing to block up traffic as people stop and stare,” I mutter as I dump my K-Cup in the trash, put the crystal in the sink, and move to the full pot I prayed she’d have brewing for another mug.

  “Actually, it says they’ll be inside the businesses, restaurants, or as a part of their garden area. So, instead of you being able to avoid them, they’ll just spring up on you.”

  “Kind of like when you used to have girls chase after you when you were a kid. Now they’re foxes.” Ev laughs at his own joke as he makes his way into the kitchen. “Good morning, my love.” He leans over to give my mom a brief kiss.

  “Cute, Ev, really cute,” I growl. He’s not wrong though. After we moved to Middleburg in my teens, there wasn’t a time when we would go out to eat when some random family would come up and introduce themselves. Inevitably, they would have a daughter I just had to meet. “Little did they know, I was planning on bailing as quickly as I could.”

  Ev’s hand claps down on my shoulder. “Something I’m still proud of you for, son. When all this becomes yours and your mother’s, it will mean that much more to you than if I just handed it over.”

  A crushing mix of panic and pain washes through me. I don’t want to think about that day being sooner than we all anticipated. Instead, I give him a head-to-toe perusal. He’s dressed much as I am. “You planning to work for your living today?”

  Ev tosses his silver-streaked head back and laughs. His green eyes are sparking with mirth. “I thought I’d come out and see how things are operating, yes.”

  “Then let me toss some food back and we’ll get going. I got a late start this morning.”

  “Monty, you run operations. You’re not expected to be mucking out stalls,” Ev says with more than a touch of exasperation.

  I grin at him. “You work out your problems your way, Ev; I shovel out mine in an entirely different fashion.”

  My mother slaps her magazine down. “This is not going to be our breakfast conversation. Do you both understand? Gross. Get out of here so I can go back to being a lady of leisure.” Ev and I both chortle. My mother is anything but that. She manages the books for all of Parrish Properties—Ev’s multitude of investments—which is a job for at least two people. “Why don’t we get you both fed and out of the way before Ashley comes in to clean?”

  As she passes by, I drop a kiss on her short, graying hair. “Thanks, Mom.”

  “No, thank you, son.” We exchange a meaningful glance. “Now, do you guys want pancakes or eggs with your bacon?”

  “What, no sausage?”

  My mother makes a gagging noise. Ever since she saw a television show on how sausage is made, she can’t stomach making it.

  “You’re lucky I didn’t turn into a vegetarian after that,” she mutters as she makes her way to the refrigerator to get out the bacon. “And since you decided to sass me instead of deciding, I’m making pancakes.”

  “You’re cooking, Mom. Like either was a problem.”

  “He’s got you there, honey.” Ev comes up behind her and slides his arms around her waist, nuzzling her neck. It’s like watching them when I was a teenager. Hell, they act like teenagers.

  It’d be fucking fantastic if deep down we all didn’t feel like we have a ticking time bomb over our heads.

  Ev’s blood type is making matching him for a bone marrow transplant inordinately tricky. Since he has O negative blood, he’d be perfect if he was the one donating the marrow he so desperately needs. The problem is receiving it. Not only can he not have any marrow with any A or B antibodies in it, but it also has to be negative of a specific protein in the red blood cells—the Rh factor. Sure, 9 percent of the global population has the same blood type, but out of the seven and a half billion people on the planet, only thirty million are registered bone marrow donors.

  The best chance would be a close match, but Ev can’t find one.

  We’re running out of time. Clenching my hands at my side, I feel an overwhelming need to do something. My jaw tight, I go to open my mouth and ask if we’ve heard anything when I see Ev lower his head to capture my mother’s lips in a soft kiss.

  And I realize I am.

  I’m already helping them by being here and giving them this time.

  Flinging myself into a chair across from where my mother was seated before, I give them a few more moments before I jokingly call out, “I’m not smelling any pork frying, Mom.”

  I hear the soft, wet sound of their lips breaking apart. “Montague Parrish! You’re a thirty-eight-year-old man! If you want bacon and can’t wait for me to finish kissing Ev, then get off your ass and do it yourself.”

  I lift my coffee to my lips to hide my smile.

  No, it fucking sucks why I’m here, but I wouldn’t trade a single second for anything.

  Fifteen

  Montague

  “Has it really come to this?” Weeks later, Ev’s spitting into a tube for us to send out to some genealogy company of crackpots to see if there’s someone out there who he might be able to pay for their bone marrow.

  “Honey, it’s not ‘come’ to anything. This is just another option Dr. Spellman suggested since Ev’s lost contact with his family,” my mother soothes me.

  I hide my fear behind a laugh of disgust and a quick drain of the crystal tumbler in my hand. “Rightfully so. They were a bunch of abusive shits, Mom. They should have been arrested for neglect. They should have…”

  Ev makes a choked sound. “Can you rein in your indignation while I’m trying to procure enough phlegm to fill up this tube, son? I love your passion, but as always, discussing my family leaves a sour taste in my mouth.”

  “Or in this case, dry mouth?” my mother jests.

  He nods. “Now that. I, too, am not overly thrilled I may have to rely upon one of them—worse yet, give them some of the money I worked damn hard to earn to do it. I know I’ll be opening a door I can never shut if that happens. But if it means getting to spend even six minutes longer with you both, I’ll pay anything.”

  My heart aching, I move next to my mother. Slinging an arm around her shoulder, I manage to grin at the man who taught me not to be satisfied with the life I could have, only to be happy with the life I wanted. By living that, I’ve fought for everything.

  And I’ll help him fight for this.

  “What do we do now?” I ask once the kit is safely sealed. Casually, I move away from my mother and pick up the small innocuous box.

  “Now, we mail this off and wait,” Ev declares as he moves around the counter to pull my mother against him.

  “And we pray on every star for a miracle,” my mother whispers as she curls into his chest.

  His bleak eyes meet mine over her shoulder. Ev’s silently telling me he doesn’t hold out much hope, but he’s willing to do anything to give it to my mother.

  “You got it, Mom. Not just one star. I’ll pray on all of them.”

  Ev’s face twists in agony before he lays his cheek against the top of my mother’s head. The ice in my drink clinks against the heavy crystal as I shake it to find the dredges. Setting my glass on the counter, I’m just about to make my excuses to leave them alone when my mother speaks up.

  “I know. Why don’t we drop this off at the post office and head down to the Rail Stop for dinner tonight?” Ev quickly masks his despair with one of mild amusement. “Let’s just go enjoy each other out for a change.”

  I’d do anything for my mother in this instant, even slip on a sport coat. That still doesn’t mean I won’t give her lip about it. “Fine. I guess I can pull on a clean T-shirt…”

  “Monty, you will put on a jacket, so help me God…” she threatens.

  I walk around and ruffle her hair. “Just kidding, Mom. Listen, for their veal, I’ll even clean the manure from the pasture off my boots.”

  Ev smirks while my mother makes a gagging noise. “Go get ready. And stop talking about shit!”

  As I stroll toward the stairs, I call over my should
er, “It’s better than talking shit!”

  Both of them laugh, which was my intent. But as I turn to climb the back staircase to reach the second door, I catch my mother burrowing into Ev’s chest and sobbing.

  Crap.

  Even if I were kidding with her before—which I wasn’t—I sure as hell would be wishing on all the stars now.

  Even the ones I don’t know could be out there.

  * * *

  After dinner, I drop Ev and Mom back at the house before I head to Bar Louie in Gainesville to grab a drink to clear my mind. I’m not immune to the women circling me like hungry prey looking for their chance to get a bite, but I couldn’t be throwing off more of a “stay away” vibe if I tried as I nurse the manhattan in front of me.

  What are we going to do if we lose Ev?

  My piece-of-shit father bailed on my mother almost the minute the sperm hit the egg. Her family wasn’t much better. If it weren’t for some pretty amazing neighbors where we lived in Rosedale, in a tiny one-room apartment in Queens, there’d have been no way we’d have ever survived.

  Until I hit my early teens, Mom and I shared a room. At first, it was easy; I was a baby. But as I grew into a toddler, and throughout elementary school, we slept in a bunk bed. Any expectation of privacy got worse for her as time went on. She was determined I would grow up with “good people” in a “safe community.” And if she eventually had to sacrifice her bedroom to her son to do that, she would.

  And then she met Ev when he came to stay at the high-end hotel she worked at.

  Mom would still describe their first meeting as clumsy and sweet, with him being both. She claims she took one look at his green eyes behind the wire-framed glasses he wore and he knocked over an entire vase of flowers onto the check-in desk. The water splattered all over and dripped onto the floor, but she didn’t care.

  As Ev tells it, all he cared about was making sure the hazel-eyed, Italian beauty who was too busy mopping up his mess would accept his phone number for something other than his dry-cleaning bill.

  It took three days, and his ripping up flowers from the urns flanking the doorway of the Waldorf Astoria hotel, for her to realize he was into her.

  It took me convincing her at night that if he asked her out again to say yes.

  On their first night out, Ev took her to a hidden gem of a Mexican restaurant he heard about. Amid chilaquiles soaked in cheese and sauce, Mom told him she appreciated his flattery, but this could be their only date. As a single mother, she didn’t have much time outside of her son.

  Ev got quiet before calling for the check, much to my Mom’s disappointment. When they were in a town car—presumably to head back to his hotel—he asked if I had any allergies. Confused, she replied, “No. Not that I’m aware of.”

  “Great. Driver, can you stop at the light up ahead?” Mom was shocked when he jumped out of the car at Magnolia Bakery, waited in line with the touristy lunatics, and then jumped back into the car fifteen minutes later with a dozen cupcakes. “Now, let’s go have dessert with your son.”

  I don’t know who fell for Ev first that night—Mom or me.

  It was Ev who said, “You don’t need a college education right away, Monty. You have time. Find your passion before you invest your heart.” And so I did. I joined the Navy with his full support and Mom’s worry. I had an aptitude toward law enforcement. Soon, I was transferred to San Antonio to train to become a master-at-arms. I received specialized training before I was deployed to ships all over the world to help keep law and order at sea. During my tours of duty, I went from being a wet-behind-the-ears rookie just out of A school to helping to detain and interrogate suspects as part of the Navy’s force protection duties. It made my transition to NCIS’s Special Agent Basic Training Program almost seem like a master’s education when I applied for and was offered the position.

  Fortunately, I didn’t waste my time at sea, otherwise, NCIS would never have been possible. I took online courses to earn my degree. I must be the only graduate alive who has a video of his mother in a rented cap and gown gliding down the grand staircase at his family home to celebrate obtaining his college degree at the ripe old age of twenty-eight while I was in the middle of the Indian Ocean on maneuvers.

  Still, while Mom made me laugh while she wore a crimson and gold mortarboard and giving the chop of my new alma mater, Florida State, it was Ev’s words of “I knew you’d find your dream and make it come true” that made me wish I was able to walk across that stage for them.

  Why can’t I make their dreams come true to repay them? I think angrily. Another large swallow of my drink hits the spot, soothing the burning anger bubbling up inside me.

  A pretty redhead sidles up next to me. “Can I buy you a new drink?” She bats her eyes at me flirtatiously.

  My only response is to narrow my eyes even as I lift my drink again to my lips. I don’t want company; I want the burn the alcohol will provide in my stomach. I want the ache I’ll feel when it hits my stomach.

  Pouting, she mutters, “Right,” before she slinks off.

  The bartender slides a fresh napkin beneath my drink before I put it down. “Judging by the look on your face, I don’t suppose you’re interested in the three offers of drinks that I’ve been asked to slide your way, right, Monty?”

  “Not really, Mike. Not tonight.”

  “You’re killing me here, man. You could have anyone you wanted. What are you waiting for?” he asks exasperatedly.

  Scanning the room filled with people who don’t see beyond their immediate needs, I shrug. Standing, I pull out a few bills and toss them next to my drink. “I think I’m looking for a miracle. And I’m not going to find it here.”

  “Dude, I could have told you that before you walked in the door,” he laughs. Holding out his hand, he reaches over and grabs mine. “Come back when you’re in a better mood.”

  I open my mouth to wish him good night when a petite blonde shoves up against my chest.

  “Hey, Monty. How are you doing? It’s been a while.” Her hand lands on my arm, and she trails her fingers up it in a familiar way. Mentally, I’m shaking my head. This little girl is the daughter of one of Ev’s business partners. Doing the calculation, I realize if I got started just early enough, this girl could be my daughter.

  “It sure has, Amy. Be sure to tell your dad hi when you get home. Okay?” I pull away and head to the front door. After I make it out into the spring night air, I realize I could have easily had a drink tonight in the pasture with the horses and been more content than I was on the scouting grounds of Bar Louie.

  I need a new hangout. Either that or maybe I’ll toss a few back with Ev while talking in his study or something. One thing I know is I’m getting too old for this shit. Sliding behind the wheel of my Jag, I sit for a few minutes before I let out my frustration punching the steering wheel as hard as I can.

  What am I—what are we—going to do if we lose Ev?

  Sixteen

  Evangeline

  It’s late when the car takes me back to my place after dinner with Sepi. I didn’t expect to enjoy myself as much as I did, but my agent is just so kind, the night out did me good.

  Now every block the town car travels, I feel tension creeping back in my shoulders. Maybe I should take a vacation and get away for a while, I think absentmindedly. Not forever—my life is here. My family is here; my job is here. But maybe for a little while.

  The car comes to a stop. Peering out the back window, I see we’re at my building. I quickly give the driver a hefty tip using my phone. “Thank you,” I murmur before I open the door and slide my legs out.

  Striding to the entrance of the building, I start to call out a greeting to Lou, the evening doorman, when he interrupts. “Miss Linnie, Ms. Bristol is waiting for you upstairs.”

  “What?” Why didn’t she call me? I just paid for the car on my phone, and there weren’t any missed messages. “Did she appear to be okay?” I’m racing toward my private elevator.


  “Yes, but she appeared to be agitated,” he calls out just as the doors open. I use the key card to buzz to my floor before I type in the code.

  “Thanks, Lou.” The doors close smoothly between us cutting off his reply. As the elevator ascends, the burden that left me at dinner completely erases. My heart is somewhere in the vicinity of my throat, and all the club soda I drank is churning in my stomach. I burst out of the elevator. My sandals make a little clicking sound on the glossy tile outside my entranceway. Knowing the door won’t be locked if Bristol’s inside, I fling it open.

  “She just got here. I’ll call you in a few, honey.” Bristol hangs up her phone. She comes directly toward me with her hands outstretched, and I race into her arms.

  “What is it? Is it Simon? The baby? Tell me,” I demand before she can get a word out.

  “I think you need to sit down for this,” she tells me quietly, guiding me to the large sectional that dominates my family room.

  “Bris, you’re scaring the living crap out of me,” I tell her shakily.

  “I couldn’t sleep. I don’t know why. I decided to get up for a while, figuring I’d catch up on work.”

  “Okay,” I reply, confused.

  “And that’s when I got the notification. Swear to God, Linnie, it came in less than thirty minutes ago. If it had been longer, I’d have called you…”

  “What was it?” My gut’s churning. It could be anything. Maybe Veronica went to the press with my parentage after I confronted her. Shit, why didn’t I think of that? Mentally berating myself for not talking with Sepi about it, I miss the first part of what Bristol’s saying. Tuning in, I catch her midsentence.

  “…it was just like the others except for the words after. That’s when I woke up Simon to make sure I wasn’t seeing things.” Her fingers are like a vice on mine.