Anchored: A Lake Series Novella (6 page)

“You
want to go see her, don’t you?” Will smiles, knowing the
answer.

I
twist my mouth into a smile. “I do.”

“Well,
find out from Carol when she’s going to be in New York and go,”
he suggests.

“What
about you and the girls? I’ve never been away from them for
more than a few hours.” Even the thought of leaving them makes
my stomach churn.

“It’ll
only be a couple of days. I’ll be with them, and Mom and Claire
will come over to make sure I don’t break them,” he
chuckles. “We’ve already been talking about an
anniversary trip in a few months. And we promised ourselves that we
weren’t going to be
those
parents who get so wrapped up in our kids that we forget who we were
before they arrived. Remember what Nana Grace said? ‘One day
your children will grow up and move out. Decide now who you want to
be when that happens: roommates or lovers?’”

It
was a great piece of advice.

I
smile at Will. “Lovers. Definitely lovers.”

Will
kisses me, and the girls start to giggle again, which makes us
giggle, too. The sound of their laughter makes me so grateful for the
changes. All of the changes.

I
used to think that once I got to the other side of reclaiming myself
with my move to Davidson all those years ago, I’d be set for
life. What I’m realizing is that all the changes that I’ve
been through are evidence of growth. No one wants their life to be
stagnant, so I’m going to enjoy this ride. I’m going to
hold onto my husband and my baby girls and travel this winding and
sometimes bumpy road with them. And I’m going to try not to
blink too much so I don’t miss a single second of it.

Of
course on a night when Will and I want to get romantic the twins
would give us a hard time about going to bed. It takes us an hour to
get them to settle down. I’m worried though, since their
diapers seem to be telling us something isn’t quite right in
their tummies. Funny that the wrong colored poop now causes me to be
filled with concern.

“They’re
fine,” Will reassures me as he leads me from the nursery. I’ve
been watching them sleep for twenty minutes just to make sure they
are okay.

I
take a seat in the kitchen lounge as instructed by my husband and
wait for him to return with a glass of wine.

“Are
you really that worried?” he asks.

I
take the glass from him and take a sip. “Yes and no. I know
they’re going to be fine. Dr. Anderson said they’d be
adjusting to the rice cereal so I expected something.” I tilt
my head from side to side, stretching out the tension that is
building in my neck. “I’m trying, but it’s hard to
unwind when I’m so focused on the girls.”

Will
puts his wine glass on the table in front of us. “Well maybe I
can help with that.”

He
shifts in his seat and nudges me to move as well so I’m sitting
with my back to him. Gently he begins massaging my neck and
shoulders. It doesn’t take long before I realize I should put
my wine glass down before I become so relaxed that it slips from my
hand.

I
lower my chin and Will moves his hand up the nape of my neck and into
my hair and then back down to my neck and shoulders.

“I
don’t know what it is, but your touch seems to be a cure-all,”
I moan.

“If
you think this is good, let me lay this move on you.”

Will
moves my hair to one side and begins kissing my neck and that special
spot behind my ear. It feels amazing and I instantly want more. I
turn around and push Will against the back of the couch, throwing one
leg over and straddling him. I take his face in my hands and crush my
lips against his. His hands have my backside in a firm grip, pulling
my body closer to him. I unbutton his shirt and run my hands over his
hot, smooth skin. My hands have a few seconds of longing when Will
lifts my shirt off and tosses it on the floor.

“You
sure know how to make a girl relaxed,” I breathe in between
assaulting Will’s neck with hungry kisses.

“Good
to know my work is appreciated,” he says in a low voice.

“Oh,
I’m about to show you just how appreciated it is.”

I
stand up and reach behind my back to unclasp my bra when our doorbell
rings and everything comes to a screeching halt.

“You
have
got
to be kidding me! Are you expecting someone?” I ask with a deep
sigh.

“No.
And quite frankly, they can stay out there.” Will grabs a belt
loop on my jeans and pulls me back to him. “Let your husband
take care of this.” He smirks and then kisses me as he reaches
behind me to finish what I started.

I
was happy to let whoever was at our door to give up and leave, but
when they ring the bell again and then knock, I know the night is
over. We have to answer the door before they become even more
aggressive and wake up the girls.

“I’ll
go deal with this.” Will stands disappointedly and goes to
answer the door while I put my shirt back on. All I can think is that
whoever it is at the door better have a damn good reason for
interrupting us.

I
slide my shirt over my head and am halfway to the front door when I
hear Will’s surprised voice.

“Michael?
What … what are you doing here?”

I
gasp.

“Ask
your wife!” Michael says with a growl just as I enter the
foyer. He looks thinner than he should be, and pale. And he’s
bald. “Who the hell do you think you are, showing up at my home
like that?”

“Whoa!
I can see you’re upset, but you need to back off on how you’re
speaking to my wife,” Will warns. “Why don’t we
just calm down and have a conversation here?”

Michael
stands there, fuming. I don’t understand why he’s so
angry with me. It wasn’t like I decided to just show up at his
home unannounced for no reason.

“Layla?
What is he talking about?”

I’m
saved by another knock at the door. Will looks at me and I shrug,
just as clueless as he is about who our next unexpected visitor could
be.

I
open the door and am both nervous and relieved to find Wes standing
there. I step aside and let him in without a word.

“Now’s
not a really good time, Wes,” Will says.

“Actually,
it appears that now is a perfect time.” Wes surveys Michael and
hands me a folder with everything I asked him to find. Documentation
from Michael’s oncologist confirming his diagnosis of
pancreatic cancer, the financials for the family business and loan
application from the person Rachel said was going to buy it, and the
certification of value on Rachel’s family land. Everything was
there and in order proving that Rachel’s story was true. It was
all I needed to assure Will that we would be doing the right thing in
helping them.

“Will
someone please tell me what’s going on?” Will cocks his
head and looks at me. By
someone
he means me.

I
shoot out a heavy breath. “I’m sorry that I showed up
unannounced today.”

“Today?”
Will is shocked and confused.

“Yes.
Today,” I reiterate. That is going to be another conversation
for later: my lying to my husband. “I wouldn’t have come
had Rachel not come to see me in the first place.”

“I’ve
already dealt with her on that. I just came here to tell you that we
don’t need your charity. Rachel, well, she knows how I feel
about the Meyers and wouldn’t have crossed that line if she
hadn’t been feeling desperate.” Michael’s tone is
strong and angry. Even though he just came in from the chilled air,
he has beads of sweat framing his forehead and lip.

“Michael,
please. You’re family, and family—” I begin but
Michael is swift to cut me off.

“We
are NOT family!” he shouts. He takes a stumbled step to the
side as he points his finger at me. Wes moves quickly to his side and
helps him to a chair. “Get off me!” he growls as he sits.
Wes does as he’s ordered but it’s clear that Michael is
not well. “I’m fine!”

“I’m
going to need you to stop shouting. I have two babies asleep
upstairs, and if you wake them up we’re going to have an even
bigger problem than we do right now.” Will crosses his arms in
front of him commandingly. “So I’m gathering that your
wife came to see my wife to ask for help. You referred to ‘charity’
so I’m going to assume she asked for money.”

“I
never even suggested she reach out to you,” Michael says, a
little more calm now.

“She
told me you’d be upset if you knew she came to see me,” I
tell him. I want him to know just how desperate she was.

“So
now I know why Michael is here. What’s your involvement in
this, Wes?”

“I’m
going to let your wife answer that since she promised to tell you
what was going on,” Wes answers. I narrow my eyes at him for
throwing me under the bus at this moment.

“I
asked Wes to look into Rachel’s story to make sure it was
true,” I said after a moment.

“You
thought my wife would lie about something like this?” Michael
protests.

“Something
like what?” Will asks for clarification.

Michael
and I stare at each other, him daring me to stay silent, me daring
him to be forthcoming. I finally unlock my eyes from his and shift
them to Wes, who gives me a slight shoulder lift and cock of his head
as if to say, “Go ahead. It can’t get any worse.”

“Michael
has pancreatic cancer.” I look at Will and wait for his reply.
It’s hit him like a Mack truck. I wonder if when Michael walked
through our door, Will’s hopes for a brother boiled to the top.
Hearing that Michael is terminally ill changes things.

“I
imagine that brings a lot of medical bills, even with insurance,”
Will muses.

Michael’s
pride forces his words. “It’s nothing we can’t
handle.” He closes his eyes and furrows his brow while he puts
his hand on his stomach. It is easy to see that he isn’t
feeling well.

It
takes a minute before Will responds. “Michael, you may not like
the Meyer name, and quite frankly, I don’t blame you. But my
father … our father … isn’t here anymore. Layla
and I are building a new legacy to the Meyer name. One that comes
from a place of wanting to be people who care about others. So, I
don’t see any reason why we can’t help. We’d really
be happy and honored to.”

I
slide my arm around Will’s waist, proud that the man I married
isn’t letting anything keep him from helping someone in need …
even their own rejection of said help.

“I
said I. DON’T. WANT. YOUR. HELP!” Michael darts up from
his seat and takes another stumble to his side. Wes catches him
again, only this time Michael doesn’t regain his footing or
argue. In fact, he doesn’t say anything as his body goes limp
in Wes’ arms.

“Oh
my God!” I cry. I run into the kitchen and grab my phone,
dialing 911 as fast as I can. Wes and Will confirm that Michael is
still breathing, and within minutes an ambulance is pulling into our
driveway. Just moments later Mom, Dad, and Eliana are running into
the house.

“Oh,
thank God!” Mom weeps as she throws her arms around me.

“What
are you doing here?” I ask.

“Wes
called Eliana and said that we all needed to come. When we heard and
then saw the ambulance, I thought the worst,” she explains.

“Someone
is going to need to stay with the girls.” Wes knew that I would
insist on going to the hospital and thought ahead. I mouth the words
‘thank you’ to Wes and run upstairs to check on the girls
and grab a coat and a pair of shoes. Within five minutes Will and I
are on the highway to the hospital with Wes close behind in his car.
It is a silent ride for most of the time.

“Layla,
what’s going on?” Will’s tone is disappointed. “Why
didn’t you just tell me Rachel came to see you? Why all the
lying and sneaking around?”

“I
had to know if Rachel was telling the truth. I knew we would help
them if she was,” I explain.

“You
can’t just think about what you want to do anymore. We have
Natalie and Claire to think about now.”

“I
understand that, Will. I’m always thinking of them. And part of
me thinking of them is thinking of you.”

“You’re
going to have to explain that to me,” Will says sternly. He
hasn’t even heard what I have to say or begun to understand,
and he’s already put up a wall.

I
sigh. “You didn’t see what I saw the night Michael walked
away from us. My strong and seemingly unbreakable husband lay in my
arms and cried an ocean’s worth of tears. The hope he had of
having a brother was crushed not once, but twice. Marcus was one
thing, but for Michael to stand in front of you and reject even the
idea of being brothers was worse.” Remembering that night
brings tears to my eyes. It was the most awful thing I’d ever
seen. “I watched you weep out all of those hurt and broken
feelings. I had to know that this wasn’t just a ploy to get
money from us and that they were really in need. If they really
needed our help, then we could approach you and Michael having some
kind of relationship before it was too late. If it was all a lie,
well … I just couldn’t watch you get your hopes up only
to have them crushed again.”

Will
reaches across the console and takes my hand. He lifts it to his lips
and kisses my knuckles. “I don’t like the lying, but I
understand. I don’t know how, but sometimes I forget just how
strong you are. I’m lucky to have you. And … I’m
sorry.”

“Why
are you sorry?” I ask, my eyebrows knitting together..

“I’m
sorry you had to see me like that on that night.”

I
turn in my seat so I can sort of face him. “Don’t you
ever be sorry about any emotion you have. You once told me that I
could laugh, cry, scream at the top of my lungs, or be silent with
you anytime I needed. I’m here to catch your tears, too, you
know.”

Will
nods with a smile and I spend the rest of the drive to the hospital
explaining the details I have about Michael and Rachel’s
situation. Apparently Michael was diagnosed with stage-three
pancreatic cancer about eight months ago. Surgery wasn’t an
option, so Michael tried both radiation and chemotherapy. Neither
have worked and now they’re just biding their time. They have
insurance but the deductible is so high that it almost doesn’t
matter. Even if they are able to pay it, the percentage the insurance
company covers is laughable.