“She was fine yesterday,” Reagan protests.
“She wasn’t,” the vet says, shaking her head. “She has a mass in her abdomen. It’s really big, and it’s so big that it has ruptured, so she’s bleeding into her belly. I’m very sorry.”
Reagan looks at me, her eyes gleaming with hope. “So, you take the mass out, right?”
The vet shakes her head. “I’m sorry, but this isn’t something that we can fix. I recommend that you put her to sleep.”
“When?” Reagan asks. She thinks Maggie still has time.
“Now,” she says. “Making her wait isn’t humane.”
A strangled noise comes out of Reagan’s mouth, and I pull her to me, but she shoves me away and walks to stand in the corner of the room. She paces back and forth. Then she stops. “There’s nothing you can do?” she asks, her voice small.
“I’m sorry. There’s nothing.” The vet is being as sympathetic as possible. “Do you want me to go to get her so that you can say good-bye?”
Tears roll down Reagan’s face, and I catch Matt wiping one of his own. He doesn’t even know the fucking dog and Reagan has him crying over her. But that’s Matt. “Yes, please,” Reagan whispers.
A few minutes later, they bring Maggie back, strapped to a board, and she’s lying there quietly. She doesn’t look unhappy at all, but looks can be deceiving.
“Can I have a minute with her?” Reagan asks.
We all go into the hallway and wait. After about five minutes of murmuring behind the closed door, Reagan comes out and nods. She’s ready.
The vet and an assistant come into the room. “We’re going to give her a little sedative, and then we’ll give her a shot that will stop her heart.”
Reagan’s eyes are puffy and red, and her cheeks are wet. She swipes at them, but it doesn’t matter. The vet tech gives Maggie the sedative, and Maggie lays her head down. Her eyes are wide open, and her breaths are soft. “Now we’ll give her the shot,” the vet warns.
Reagan lays a hand on Maggie’s side, but she doesn’t come closer. She already said her good-byes, I’d wager. Maggie struggles when they stick the needle into her back leg, and Reagan starts to sob. Matt reaches out and covers her hand with his, and I lean down close to Maggie’s head. Maggie’s fighting it, so I lean forward and whisper into her ear. Maggie’s eyes go wide, and then she relaxes. Her breaths slow, and then they stop. I watch her chest, and my gut clenches when I realize it’s not moving. Reagan is wrecked, and I stand up, grab Reagan, and pull her to me. She wraps herself up in my arms and lets me absorb her sobs in my shirt. I coo at her and hold her, and I don’t know what else I can do. I hear Matt making arrangements for the cremation, and they take Maggie’s collar off and hand it to Reagan before they take Maggie from the room.
Reagan sobs as Maggie leaves, and she cries in my arms until it dissolves into soft hiccups. I just hold her. There’s nothing else I can do. “Better now?” I ask.
She nods. “I thought we were just going to get some vitamins.”
I brush her hair back from her face. It’s wet and stuck to her lips. “I’m sorry,” I say.
Reagan catches my shirt in her fists and holds me, looking into my eyes. “What did you whisper to her?” she asks.
I cough into my fist because there’s a lump the size of an apple in my throat. “It doesn’t matter,” I say.
“Tell me,” she protests.
I take a deep breath and steel myself. I clear my throat. “I thanked her for protecting you all these years and told her how much I appreciate it. But that she could go ahead and leave because I got you from here on out. I told her I’d take over where she leaves off.”
Reagan falls against me and cries even more. And Matt passes me a tissue so I can blot my eyes. But he nods subtly and claps a hand on my shoulder. He squeezes my nape tightly, and I absorb it, because this is what my brothers do for me. Every single time. Reagan lets me go and hugs Matt really quickly. He squeezes her, and I think I see him drop a kiss near her hair. Damn. She’s part of the family now. No doubt.
Reagan
Pete takes my keys from Matt, who must have pocketed them when we got out at the vet’s office. I don’t complain. I can barely put one foot in front of the other, much less drive. Pete slides behind the wheel, adjusts the seat and the mirrors, and looks over at me. “You want me to call your dad for you?”
I shake my head. “I can do it.” I do need to call my parents. But I know I’ll be a sobbing mess if I try to do it now. Pete looks at the clock and swears. “What?” I ask.
“I’m supposed to be at the youth center for group at eleven,” he says. He takes my hand and squeezes it. “I’ll call and tell them I can’t go.”
“No,” I protest. I don’t want him to change his plans. My dog is dead. Him not going to help those boys isn’t going to bring her back. “You should go.” I turn around and look at Matt. “Do you want to go to the hospital and see your friend this morning?”
He looks into my eyes. “You’ve had enough sadness today.” His eyes start to dart around the car, and I can tell he’s upset.
“She’s going to die, Matt,” I say quietly. “You need to see her.”
Pete sits up tall so he can look at Matt in the rearview mirror. He’s curious about why I know so much about Matt. I should have told him that we talked last night, but I kind of feel like it was between me and Matt. “Who’s dying?” Pete asks.
“Kendra,” he says quietly.
“Oh no,” Pete breathes. He shakes his head. “You need to go, Matt. We’ll go with you.”
Matt heaves in a breath and points to me. “She can go. You can’t.”
Pete’s brow furrows. “Why can’t I go?” he asks.
“Because you have to go see the boys at the center.” He looks into my eyes. “Can we go today?” he asks.
I nod. “I’d love to.” It’ll be better than sitting around missing Maggie.
We drive across town and drop Pete off at the youth center. He gets out, adjusts his jeans, and pulls me to him. We’re standing at the front of the car, and Matt gets into the driver’s seat. I brush Pete’s shirt off. He has Maggie’s hair stuck to him in places. “Are you going to be all right with Matt?” he asks. “I don’t have to go to the meeting. I can go with you. I really don’t want to leave you today.”
“I need something to do.” It’s true. If I sit at home, I’ll think about Maggie all day. And Matt needs to do this. I can feel it in my gut. Besides, Matt doesn’t scare me. The look on his face makes me want to hug him and hold him close. He’s struggling, and I know what that’s like. Pete bangs on the hood of the car, and Matt sticks his head out.
“What the fuck do you want?” Matt grouses. But their banter is playful. I love the way they interact with one another.
“You’ll bring her home after, right?”
He shrugs. “If that’s where she wants to go.”
Pete reaches up and tucks a lock of hair behind my ear. “I want you to sleep in my bed.”
Butterflies take flight in my belly. “Okay,” I whisper.
“Will you do me a favor?” he asks.
I’d do just about anything for him. “What do you need?”
“Take care of Matt. He’s not as strong as he looks.”
I disagree because I’d wager he’s a lot stronger than he looks, and he looks like a linebacker. “I’ll keep an eye on him.”
His lips touch mine, and it’s not a peck on my mouth. He delves in and let’s me know he’s there. When I’m breathless, he sets me back from him with a groan, his hands on my shoulders. “Don’t forget to call your parents,” he says. He walks away from me toward the youth detention center. I watch him walk, admiring his backside. He turns back and cups his hands around his mouth. “I love you,” he calls.
I shake my head and mouth the words back at him. Then I get in the car, where Matt is tapping on the wheel with his thumbs singing along with a song on the radio. He acts like he’s sticking his fingers d
own his throat and makes a gagging noise. “You guys will make me puke if you keep that up.” He grins, though.
I shove his shoulder. “That’s not funny.”
“No, it won’t be funny at all when I puke. I puked a lot during chemo. I’m good at it.” He laughs. He reaches out and squeezes my knee. “Call your dad on the drive. We have about an hour to kill.”
I pick up the phone and call my parents, and they put me on the speakerphone. I can’t talk about it for long without breaking down. Mom is noticeably upset, and Dad wants to drive to the city to be sure I’m all right.
“I’m fine,” I tell them. “I’m hanging out with Pete’s family today. So I’m not alone.”
Dad grunts.
“Dad,” I warn.
“Fine,” he says. I can tell he’s biting his tongue.
“I miss her already, Dad,” I say.
“I know,” he says softly. “She’s been with you a long time.”
I can hear Mom crying softly in the background.
“Who’s going to protect you?” he asks. “Maybe you should come home.”
“Dad, I’m fine.”
Matt grins at me and winks. I have a feeling I have the whole Reed clan to take care of me, if I ask them. I hang up with Dad while he’s still protesting, and I settle back against the seat. Matt turns up the radio, and we get all the way to the cancer center without him saying much.
Then he turns off the car and takes in a deep breath. “Now or never,” he says.
I get out of the car with him and walk inside. The staff knows him by name and greets him at the desk. “I’m here to see Kendra.”
She points over Matt’s shoulder, and I see three kids sitting in the waiting area. One is older, maybe sixteen or so, a boy, and he’s holding a small child in his arms. She can’t be more than three. And there’s a young girl about Hayley’s age in the chair beside them. He’s reading a book to both the girls. “Seth?” Matt asks. The boy looks up, confused. He sets the littlest girl in the floor and gets up. Matt extends his hand, and they talk quietly. I can’t quite hear them. I go to the vending machine and get some gum, and then take it back and offer the two little ones a piece. If there’s one thing I know, it’s how to win over small children. “Don’t swallow it,” the oldest girl says. She shoves the little one in the shoulder.
The little one grins. “Oops,” she says, and she sticks her tongue out so I can see her empty mouth.
“Oops,” I repeat, and I go pick up the book they were reading. “Can I read your book?” I ask.
They nod and climb into a chair on each side of me.
“Reagan,” Matt says. “Will you be all right here for a few minutes?”
I nod and smile.
“Can I go?” the little one chirps.
“Not right now,” Seth says. He sits down and heaves a sigh. He sounds much older than he looks.
I watch as Matt walks into a nearby room. He stops in the doorway, startled, and I see his head fall. He walks to the bedside, and as he walks over, the door shuts slowly behind him, leaving a view of him walking to the bedside, where he drops and lays his forehead against the woman’s knee. The door snicks shut on its own, and I can’t see anymore.
“How are things going?” I ask Seth.
“They’re going,” he says. He nods toward the little ones, and I see that they’re watching us closely. I get it. He doesn’t want to talk about his mom right now.
Suddenly, there’s a flurry of activity at the door, and a woman walks in. She’s wearing a pencil-thin skirt and a jacket, and she’s carrying a purse that probably cost more than these kids eat in a year. She runs to the desk on her four-inch Louboutin heels, and they clack against the floor. She stops, shoves her rhinestone-encrusted sunglasses to the top of her head, pushing her blond hair back, and asks for Kendra’s room. She runs inside, and the door closes behind her, too.
“Who was that?” I ask.
“Probably our aunt,” Seth says with a shrug.
“You don’t know?”
He shakes his head. “Never met her.”
She doesn’t look anything like them. These kids have dark skin and are obviously biracial. She is as white bred as they come with flaxen hair that falls down over her shoulders. The woman I saw in the bed is biracial as well.
“I know,” he chuckles. “I don’t get it either.”
After about a half hour, Matt comes out with the woman. He looks at me. “Reagan,” he starts. He brushes a hand down his face and scrubs the back of his head. “I need a favor.”
I get up and walk down the hallway with him. “Kendra wants the kids to go home. Or at least the little ones. She wants Seth to stay, if he wants to. But their aunt is going to take the little ones back to their apartment. Do you think you could ride back with her and let me keep your car so I can come home after?”
“You’re not coming with us?”
“I’m going to stay,” he says. “Until the end. I promised,” he whispers. “I need to.”
He still has my keys from earlier. I nod. “Should I stay with the kids?”
The lady is down on her knees in front of the two girls, and she’s talking softly with them. They all stand up, and she takes them by the hands. “Ready?” she asks.
“I can stay?” Seth asks. He looks from Matt to his aunt and back. His voice is suddenly deep, and I see him clear his throat, coughing into his fist. He wants to stay. He wants to be there for his mom.
“Of course you can stay,” his aunt says. She looks at Matt. “You’ll bring him home? After?”
Matt nods. He claps a hand on Seth’s shoulder, and Seth looks at him, blinking hard.
I walk out with the aunt and the little girls. “My name is Skylar,” she says. “People call me Sky.”
“Reagan,” I say.
She opens the doors with her key fob and says, “I bought a car seat on the way here, but I’m not sure how to use it.”
I help her install it, and we settle the kids in the tiny backseat of her sports car. She sighs heavily and starts the car. “If you want to stay, I can take the kids back with me and watch them,” I offer.
“I don’t want to stay,” she says crisply.
“Kendra is your sister?” I ask.
“Half sister,” she says, and she makes a noise at the back of her throat. “We’ve never met until today.”
Then what on earth is she doing with the kids?
“Kendra doesn’t have anybody else,” she explains. “So they called me.” She snorts. “I’ve been taught to hate her my whole life,” she says so quietly that the kids can’t hear her, but I can. “And now they want me to raise her kids.” Her jerks a thumb toward the small one. “I’ve never changed a diaper in my life.”
“I can go with you.”
She shakes her head. “I suppose I need to learn.”
“You’re going to their house?” I ask.
She looks at me. “I think they’ll be more comfortable there, don’t you? Their own beds. Their toys.”
“I can help.”
She shakes her head again. “They said it won’t be but a few more hours. Then Matt will bring Seth home, and he can help me.”
I nod.
“I can make do until then.” She looks at the girls in the rearview mirror. “Who wants ice cream?” she cries.
“Me!” both girls squeal.
After ice cream and a quick stop at the store for diapers and kid food, she stops at a stoplight. “Are you sure you don’t want me to go with you?” I really wouldn’t mind.
She shakes her head and pulls her expensive sunglasses down to hide her eyes. “Thanks, Reagan,” she says. “I think I got this.”
I don’t believe her. Not at all.
Pete
I’m worried about Reagan, so I call her from Reed’s, the tattoo shop where I work with my brothers. Since no one was at home, I went to work with the guys. I hang up the phone and take a deep breath. Someone is dropping her off in five minutes at the shop.
I have no idea what happened with Matt, but he has Reagan’s car and she rode home with a stranger. I don’t particularly like that, but Matt wouldn’t do anything to hurt her. At least not on purpose.
Finally, she walks in the door. I have my gun resting against someone’s back as I draw an outline. She blows out a frustrated breath as she walks through the door. “Everything okay?” I ask. I can’t stop what I’m doing. Not right now.
“Fine,” she says. “That was so strange.”
Emily is perched on top of a desk swinging her feet, sucking on a lollipop. She’s so fucking cute in her combat boots and jeans that I want to hug her. “What was strange?” she asks.
“Those kids,” Reagan said. “I’m worried about them.”
She tells us the story and all about the aunt that had never seen the kids before. “Maybe Matt knows more about it and can fill us in later?” I suggest.
“I’m glad he went,” Reagan says. “He would have hated it otherwise.”
A woman walks in the front door, and every man in the house stops to look. She’s wearing a short, short skirt, and a fitted top with an open back. “What can we do for you?” Friday, the girl who runs the front, asks.
“I’d like to get a piercing,” she says, and she bites her lower lip.
“Can one of you do a piercing?” Friday calls. Friday is really pretty in a Katy Perry kind of way. She has tattoos on her shoulders and across her back and up her legs. I know about the ones on her legs because I put them there. She has skulls and cross bones and turtles and some really weird shit. And she dresses all retro, like a pinup girl from the sixties.
“What kind of piercing?” I ask.
Every gaze in the place turns to the woman, and she flushes. “One of those piercings!” Friday yells dramatically.
“Pete can do it,” Paul says.
Reagan’s mouth falls open. She walks over close to me. “You are not doing a private piercing,” she hisses. I do them all the time, but I don’t even want to do them anymore. She cups her hand around my ear. “The only private places you’re touching are mine.”