Chapter Eighteen

Zack

I sat there talking to Janet and listening to her story. It broke my heart. She hasn’t seen her husband in over a month, and the insurance company is almost ready to pull the plug on all payments for treatment, basically calling it a lost cause.

It was all too much to take in, then looking over to see Jack look at Evie and them talk about the needles that they get. They are fucking five and six; they should be getting scrapes on their knees, they should be falling while running for the bus, not this.

When Evie’s father finally came in the room, everything came to light. I have a son who has cancer, who I will fight for with every single breath that I have, and I really, really like his doctor. Like a lot. The rest will work itself out.

I didn’t give Denise a chance to cop out of dinner, so I made sure to tell Jack. It was a low blow probably, but guess what? I didn’t give a shit anymore.

“Do you have to call the car service?” my mother asks while she puts on Jack’s shirt.

“No, I bought a truck, and they delivered it about an hour ago,”

I tell them, and Denise looks at me.

“You’ve been here all day,” she says.

“Yes, and I have a phone and internet, and you would be surprised what you can do.” I smirk at her as she rolls her eyes.

“Daddy has a new truck. Jack, did you hear that?” my mother tells him, and he just nods his head.

“Is it purple?” Jack asks me, and I shake my head. “Yellow?”

“Nope,” I tell him, and then Denise cuts in.

“I’m going to go get my things together and meet you guys downstairs,” she says, smiling, then leans in. “What kind of truck? So I don’t get into some random one.”

“Gray Range Rover,” I whisper to her.

“Fancy,” she jokes and walks out. I watch her walk to the nurses’ desk to grab a couple of charts and write in them quickly. She smiles at Mallory and then walks toward the hallways.

“I’m ready, Dad,” Jack says, and he gets off the bed. “Is Dr. Denise coming with us?”

“Yes, she is going to meet us downstairs,” I tell him, and my mother packs his iPad in the bag and zips it up.

“We need to say bye to the nurses,” Mom says, and we walk out, saying bye to Mallory, who asks Jack for a hug.

“Bye, Jumping Jack.” She kisses his head. “See you soon.”

“See you soon,” he says and then turns to walk to me. We take the elevator down to the entrance and walk outside where Marco meets us. “Is that it?” Jack points at the four-door gray Range Rover parked in front.

“That’s it,” I tell him, and then Marco comes over to us.

“Here you go, sir.” He hands me the keys. “I filled up the tank and all the paperwork is in the folder in the backseat.”

“Thank you, Marco,” I tell him, and he goes to a waiting cab.

“You really can do everything on that phone.” I hear from behind me and turn to see Denise standing there with her beige jacket on.

“Dr. Denise, look at Dad’s new car,” Jack says.

“I saw. Isn’t it the coolest?” she says, walking to us. Walking to the back door, I open it and see Jack’s seat.

“Come on, buddy,” I tell him. He walks up to the car, and I pick him up, and Denise walks around the car, getting in the backseat with him.

I look over at her, and she smiles at me. “I love the new car smell.” My mother climbs in the front seat, and I get in and take us all back to the brownstone. The parking is beyond crazy, and after circling the block four times, I drop them off at the door and continue searching. It takes a totally of eight times going around for me to finally park.

I walk into the house, tossing my keys on the table in the hallway.

Making my way into the house, I hear Denise’s voice from the living room.

“I was just wondering if the foundation could cover it,” she says quietly.

“Her insurance already makes us jump through hoops just to get her monitored and in the hospital.”

She doesn’t say anything else while the person on the other line talks.

“It’s just so frustrating. There is a chance to save this little girl, and I can’t do anything about it.” She lets out a big breath. “Yeah, okay, I’ll send you what I can tomorrow for you guys to look over and see if there is anything the foundation can do for her.” She sits on the couch, her shoulders slumped forward almost in defeat. “Thank you. Kiss my nephew for me and tell my niece that Max was mine first.”

She throws her phone on the table in front of her. I walk into the living room. “Where is everyone?” I ask. When she looks over her shoulder at me, I see the tears that have rolled down her cheeks. I walk to her, sitting on the coffee table in front of her. She sits up straight in front of me, and I reach out, wiping the tear that slips out again. “Don’t cry,” I tell her, cupping her cheek in my palm. I don’t know if I’m crossing the line; I don’t know if she will jump away from my touch, but I couldn’t stop myself.

“Some days are harder than others,” she whispers, “and today is one of them.” She moves her face, nuzzling it further in my palm.

I move closer to her, ever so slowly, and her eyes watch mine the whole time. “Denise,” I say her name softly right before my lips touch hers. Her breath hitches a touch. Our lips touch, and it feels like my body wakes from sleeping. Like it’s never been awake.

Her hand comes up to my face now, and as she kisses me, she opens just a bit so that my tongue can slip in. And this right here, this moment with my lips on her, I know there hasn’t been a moment like this before in my life, ever.

My other hand comes up to cup her other cheek, and I’m about to turn my head to deepen the kiss when I hear a gasp, and she flies away from me. “I’m so sorry.” I hear my mother say, but my eyes aren’t on my mother. They are on Denise, who leaned back on the couch and is covering her face. “Dinner is going to be done soon,” my mother says and walks out of the room

“Oh my god,” Denise says through her fingers. “This has to be a dream.” Her hands leave her face as she looks at me, and I try not to smile at the redness on her face. “It’s a nightmare.”

“It’s fine,” I tell her.

“It is not fine. Your mom just caught us making out on the couch.”

She sits up now.

“Trust me, that was not us making out,” I tell her as my hands go to her lap. “I’ll show you what us making out is later.” I wink at her, and she looks at me with her mouth open. I stand, bending down to peck her lips, and she kisses me back.

“I’m so embarrassed,” she says, finally getting up as Jack runs into the living room.

“I’m going to set the table all by myself,” he says and then runs back out.

“Zack.” She turns to me. “We ...” And she stops talking when I walk to her and move her hair off her shoulder, so I can hold her neck in my hands.

“Later,” I tell her, then lean in and kiss her softly. Moving back, I look into her eyes and see the storm brewing. I see the battle she’s fighting, and for the first time, I know it’s a battle she is going to lose. Life is too short not to live to its fullest, and I want to live life.

“No more kisses,” she says softly. “Not in front of your mother or Jack.”

“Agreed,” I tell her. “For tonight,” I say and walk away, grabbing her hand.

“What does that mean?” she asks, and I don’t answer because we walk into the kitchen, and my mother is taking a tray out of the oven.

“What can I do to help?” I ask my mother, who sets the tray down on the stove, turning and smiling at us.

“Nothing,” she says, and there is no judgment in her eyes, no frown, no nothing, but love.

“Shirley,” Denise starts, “what you walked in on.”

She shakes her head. “We are not talking about it. We are going to sit down and have a great meal. I’m going to enjoy the happiness that has come over my son and my grandson,” she says, blinking, “and I’m going to try not to cry with missing them already.”

Denise leaves my side and goes to my mother. “No tears,” she says. “Besides”—she motions with her head—“I bet you that one can book you many flights on that little phone of his.” She laughs with my mother. “If he can buy a car, he can book a trip.” She puts her arm around her shoulder and then looks at me. “Your mother should visit more often.”

“I agree,” I tell her. “Let me check my schedule and we can go from there.”

“That sounds like a plan,” my mother says, eyes full of tears that she blinks away.

“Are we eating?” We hear Jack yell from the dining room, and we all laugh.

“Let’s go sit and the big man can bring the tray into the room,” my mother says, and she and Denise walk out of the kitchen with their arms wrapped around each other.

I smile at them; my mother never had a daughter since I was their only child, and when she got a daughter-in-law, I know she was hoping to have a special bond with her, but Chantal wasn’t one who wanted the motherly touch.

We eat dinner while my mother tells stories from my childhood, but instead of groaning and begging her to stop, I want her to tell them. I want Denise to know all about when I was young. I want her to know that I sucked my thumb till my mother put pepper on it when I was ten.

When we finish most of the Shepherd’s Pie, Jack asks my mom to give him a bath.

“I’m going to drive Denise home,” I tell them. “Then I’ll come back and tuck you in,” I tell Jack.

“I can take an Uber.” She looks at me, and I just glance at her sideways. “Or not.”

She gets up, bringing the plates to the kitchen while my mother and Jack follow her.

“Thank you so much for letting me hang with you and Jack during your visit,” Denise tells my mother, hugging her.

“I can’t wait to come back, and we can go to that spa you were telling me about. The one where the fish eat your dead skin.”

“Yes,” Denise says, her eyes wide as she smiles. “It’s a date.” She turns to look at Jack. “You get to relax for the next two weeks and then the magic starts.”

“I’m going to have superpowers?” he says, flexing his little arms, and Denise just nods her head.

We walk to the front door where she puts on her jacket. “You really don’t have to drive me.”

I lean down and kiss her lips. “You really need to stop talking.”

“You’re starting to be really annoying,” she says, rolling her eyes. And we walk out of the house, and I lead her to the car. “You won’t have your parking when you get back,” she tells me when I unlock the door, and she opens the passenger door.

“Don’t give a shit. I’ll find parking,” I tell her, getting in and starting the car. I pull out, driving her to her house.

“Are we going to discuss this?” She turns in the seat, looking at me.

I look over at her. “You want to discuss this?” I ask her, and she nods her head. “Okay, let’s discuss.”

“Perfect,” she says.

“I like you,” I start.

“I like you too,” she says softly.

“A lot,” I add, looking at her and then looking forward again. “So we can agree we like each other.”

“Yes,” she says softly as I pull into her parking lot next to her loft. I park in an empty parking space and put the truck in park. I turn to her.

“I know that we met under different circumstances,” I say. She starts to say something, but I put my hand up to stop her. “I know that you must feel guilty doing this with a man who is married and with a child.”

“I’m also your child’s doctor,” she reminds me, “but yes, I feel some guilt.”

“What if you had met me, and it was just regular old me?” I ask her. “What if we had met, and my son wasn’t sick with cancer, and you weren’t his doctor?”

“But it’s not like that,” she says.

“But what if it was?” I ask her again. “Would you give me a chance? Would you give us a chance?”

She looks down at her fingers as she twirls her thumb. “There is so much more to me that you don’t know. I spent my adult life working and becoming successful all the while trying to run from my past.”

“We all have pasts,” I tell her. “Some are more than others.”

“You have no idea,” she tells me.

“Then give me that chance,” I tell her. “Give us that chance.”

“I don’t want Jack to get the wrong idea,” she says. “Can we do this and proceed cautiously?”

“How cautiously?” I ask her, not sure I’m ready for what she has to say.

“Like just the two of us till we see if this is actually something and not just our hormones?”

I throw my head back and laugh. “Oh, there are lots of hormones when you’re in the room,” I tell her, and she smiles at me, “but I think it’s more.”

“So do we have a deal?” she asks me.

“That we keep this quiet for now, yes,” I agree, “but the minute you feel comfortable enough, I want everyone to know.” I close my eyes when I say the next part. “Even your brother.”

She now tips her head back, laughing. “That is going to be fun.”

“I can take Max, and I think I will have Matthew in my corner when the time comes,” I tell her, “because I know it will. But I will respect your wishes until then. You and me getting to know each other.” She bites her lip and nods her head. “Now come here and kiss me,” I tell her. She leans forward, and I reach out, taking her face in my hand.

My lips crash on hers with a kiss hungrier than before. She moans into my mouth, and her hands go to my chest as my heart beats hard.

As our tongues dance together, I tilt my head to the side, deepening the kiss and taking more from her. Her hands move from my chest to my neck and then to my face. We kiss until we are breathless, pulling away to give us a chance to catch our breath, and then we dive at each other again.

I kiss her softly. “Now that is us making out,” I tell her, kissing her lips once, twice, three times.

“Good to know the difference,” she tells me. “Now I think I’m going to go so your mother doesn’t think I brought you home and took you to bed.”

“Trust me, when I finally get you in bed, it’s going to be more than twenty minutes.” I wink at her as she reaches for the handle.

“So no minuteman?” she jokes.

“Night,” I tell her, watching her climb out of the truck. She walks around the truck to my window and knocks. I laugh as I roll down the window. “Yes?”

“Does this mean we are boyfriend and girlfriend?”

“Yeah, baby,” I say, leaning out a bit, and she meets me halfway and kisses me.

“Okay,” she says. “Just wanted to check.”

“Call you later,” I tell her, and she turns and walks through the door.

“Girlfriend,” I say to myself, laughing. If only she knew how much more she is to me.