For the Win (Playing for Keeps Book 1) (19 page)

London

Nausea rolled over me.

I breathed in deeply through my nose and out through my mouth in an effort to quell it. This had been happening ever since the surgery. Even though I’d been wheeled out of recovery hours ago, the nausea continued with a vengeance. The nurse assured me it was from the anesthesia and it would go away. I seriously couldn’t wait for that to happen.

Lying back on the hospital bed, I stared up at the television mounted to the wall. Dad had put it on some old black and white movie before he’d stepped out to get a bite to eat. I was glad that he did. He hadn’t eaten all day. Instead, he’d been glued to my side. And during surgery he’d been too nervous to eat. But I understood. I’d been pretty damn nervous too.

I hadn’t heard from Cooper, but Dad had checked on him so I knew he was doing well.

Seems like we’d both come through the surgery fine. According to the surgeon there had been no complications. Now I just had to wait. The doctors and nurses would monitor me closely for signs of engraftment, meaning that new blood-forming cells would start to grow. They would also be monitoring me for signs of grafting failure. But I couldn’t even allow my mind to go there.

As badly as I wanted to live, the main reason I hoped it was successful was for Cooper’s sake. I’d never seen someone as excited as he was when he gave me his results. He wanted this to work so badly. And he’d been willing to give up practice and conditioning time for it. That may not have seemed like a big deal to most people, but I knew it was for Cooper. He rarely went a day without working on his pitching arm.

However, deep in my heart doubts resided. Before the surgery I’d made the mistake of googling bone marrow transplants. There were stories of success, but also stories of kids my age and even younger dying despite receiving a transplant. And I worried that I would be like them. That I would become another statistic, another story you could google on the internet.

If I died now, I’d never go to college, I’d never become a reporter, I’d never write that novel. And worse yet, I’d have to leave my dad and Cooper. I’d never been one of those girls who dreamt of their wedding day, or fantasized about one day being a mom. In fact, when I envisioned my future I was always alone. I was hitting the streets in my power suit, interviewing people and sharing it with the world. But now I sort of wanted that. I wanted a family one day – a man who loved me unconditionally, and children I could love and care for the way Dad had done for me.

Tears pricked at the corner of my eyes. I blew out a breath as another wave of nausea crashed over me. Reaching over, I clicked off the TV, and my room was silent. Well, kind of silent. Noises still abounded in the hallway – shoes squeaking on linoleum, papers shuffling, machines beeping, wheels rolling on the ground, and people chattering. But in my room it was just me and my thoughts. Even though the door was open, the curtain to my right was dragged closed blocking me from the doorway.

Lying back on my pillow, I thought about my mom. Not the one lying in a pool of her own blood with terrified eyes, but the mom she was prior to that. In the years since her death, I rarely allowed myself to think of her. Mostly because it was impossible to think about her without remembering the way she appeared when she was dead. That image of her was burned into my brain, branding me. Dad regretted sending me inside first, but how could he have known. I didn’t blame him, but I did wish I hadn’t seen her like that. I wished my last memory of her had been from earlier in that day, when she’d kissed me goodbye before Dad and I went to the store. The way she smelled like vanilla, the way her pink lips had stamped a lipstick stain to my cheek. The way she’d wiped it away gently and laughed.

I wanted to only remember the woman who had danced with me in the kitchen while she cooked, who tucked me in at night and read me stories. Mom liked to do all the voices. She was definitely the most animated storyteller I’d ever known. After she died, I never read any of the stories she’d read to me. I’d thrown all the books away. When Dad found them in the trash, he fished them out and attempted to read them to me, trying to emulate her voices. But it wasn’t the same, and that made it even more painful. I ended up bursting into tears and cried myself to sleep that night.

The following day I saw them back in the trash, and we never spoke of it again.

In the months after her death, I longed for her in a way that made it hard to draw breath. But as the months turned into years, Dad was able to fill the void. Now I rarely wished for her. Dad gave me what I needed for the most part.

But right now I wanted my mom.

I wanted her to hold me. I wanted her to tell me everything would be all right, that if I never got to be a wife and mom that my life would still have meaning. I wanted her to stroke my head and kiss my cheek. In her arms I thought that maybe I would believe I could survive anything. Even dying.

With tears in my eyes, I whispered into the quiet room, “Mom, can you hear me? I like to think that maybe you’re somewhere out there, watching over me. My own guardian angel perhaps.” I smiled. “Maybe you’re the one who sent Cooper to me. If so, thank you. I don’t know how I would’ve gotten through any of this without him. And now it seems he may have saved my life.” I swallowed the lump in my throat. “I miss you, Mom. I miss you every day. And I need you. Now more than ever.” I paused, glancing around the empty room. “If I don’t make it, I like to think that maybe I’ll end up where you are. That maybe we’ll finally have a chance to be together. Maybe then dying won’t be so bad.” Footsteps sounded in the hallway. Clamping my mouth shut, I listened. When no one entered the room, I continued, “But I don’t think I’m ready, Mom. Don’t get me wrong. I want to see you, but maybe not just yet. Dad needs me. And I like it here. I’m in love. I’m happy. Anyway, if you have any pull with the man upstairs, I’d like you to ask him to give me more time here.”

“Pumpkin?” Dad’s voice sounded from the other side of the curtain. He dragged it open a little bit, and it rattled on the pole. When his face came into view he wore a mask over his mouth, similar to the one the surgeon had worn. Apparently all my visitors and nurses had to wear them since I was so susceptible to infection. “There’s someone here to see you.”

My heart skipped a beat and I sat up, wiping the traces of tears from my face.

“You all right?” Dad asked, taking in my face. His voice was muffled behind the mask.

“Fine.” I nodded.

His gaze scoured the room. “Were you talking to someone?”

“Nope.” I shook my head.

“Hey, girl.” Skyler peeked around the curtain wearing the same kind of mask. It was blue, and it covered her mouth, held in place by strings that looped around her ears.

I was momentarily bummed that it wasn’t Cooper, but that quickly faded to happiness at seeing my friend. “Hey, Sky.”

Dad bowed out into the hallway while Skyler stepped into the room, hugging herself, her gaze shifting uncomfortably. She stayed close to the curtain as if she was being held in place by an invisible rope.

“I’m not going to bite,” I teased.

Her face relaxed a little at my statement, and she walked in further. Still she kept her distance. The nurses probably had told her too, so I didn’t push it. “How are you?” She spoke in a slightly muffled voice, and it was weird that I couldn’t see her mouth moving. Just the rustle of the paper mask where her lips would be.

“I sorta feel like I was hit by a truck.”

“That’s better than a bus.” She plopped down into a nearby chair.

“True.” I glanced up at the clear liquid bag attached to my IV. “Maybe this is pain meds they’re feeding me.”

“If it is, let’s hope they keep ‘em coming.”

“Right?” Another wave of nausea hit me, and I closed my eyes warding it off.

“You okay?”

I nodded. When it faded, I opened my eyes again. “Felt sick for a minute.”

“You need me to get a nurse?” Her eyes flitted to the doorway.

“Nah, it’s just the effects of the anesthesia. I’ll be fine.”

She sat back in her chair, throwing a strand of her dark hair over her shoulder. “It’s super boring at home without you.”

My lips tugged at the edges. “Your brothers still driving you nuts?”

“Always.” She studied my face. “It’ll be better when you come home.”

“I’ll be home soon, Sky.”

She nodded, her eyes betraying the emotion she felt. Blinking, she sighed. “So, how romantic is it that Cooper gave you his bone marrow? I mean, it’s like something out of a freaking movie. Bella and Edward have nothing on you two now.”

I giggled. “I’m glad you’re here, Sky.”

“I’m glad you’re here too, London.”

Now the trick was going to be staying here.

“I can see my bone marrow is already working,” Cooper said when he entered my room the day after the surgery, wearing his own mask. I longed to see his lips, to take in his whole face.

“What are you talking about?” I asked softly, careful not to wake up Dad who was sound asleep in the chair by my bed.

His eyes lifted to the television where a baseball game was playing. Giggling, I shook my head. Reaching down, I powered off my Kindle and set it on the table next to my bed. “Dad was watching it before he fell asleep. I was reading.”

He came to stand over my bed, and I noticed he was moving slowly. There was a slight limp to his gait.  “I thought maybe you were becoming more like me now.”

“I don’t think it works like that. They harvested your bone marrow, not your brain.”

“Thank god. I would not want you having a peek in here.” He pointed to the top of his head.

“Really?” I raised a brow. “Why not? Do you have something to hide, Coop?”

He glanced over at Dad. Then he bent down a little and whispered, “Just the thoughts I have about you. Not all of them are G rated.”

I shivered. “Oh, yeah?”

“Yeah.” He nodded. “And most of them involve you wearing this hat, right here.” He pointed to the Tigers’ hat that sat on the table near my bed. Even though I probably wouldn’t wear it in the hospital, I liked having it close. It reminded me of Cooper, so even when he wasn’t here, a part of him was with me.

“This hat, huh?” I glanced over at it, smiling.

“Yep, and that’s it.”

My cheeks colored.

“But don’t worry.” He eyed my dad, speaking in a low voice. “I’m a patient guy. We’ll wait until you’re ready.”

Now it was my turn to glance over at Dad. I couldn’t see his mouth behind the mask, but I could hear his deep breathing, and I imagined his mouth was hanging open. His arms dangled at his sides, and his eyes were closed. Thank god he was still asleep. There was no way I’d want him to overhear what Cooper had said.

I certainly wasn’t ready for that, but I hoped that I would be one day. And if I was, I knew I’d want it to be with Cooper. He’d proven that he could be trusted. In fact, his body was a part of mine already.

Cooper dragged over a chair and plunked into it. “How ya feeling today?”

“Good. What about you? I couldn’t help but notice you’re moving kinda slow.”

He nodded. “A little sore. Nothing I can’t handle.”

“Me too.”

“That’s because my girl is tough.”

I smiled. “Sometimes. I have my moments when I feel like I might fall apart.”

“But you don’t. That’s what’s important. And if you ever do fall apart, I’ll be here to catch you.”

“I know you will.”

“I love you, London.”

“I love you too, Cooper.”

Cooper

“This good?” I helped London sit down on the red plaid blanket I’d spread out in the grass.

“Perfect.” She stretched out her legs, tilting her head toward the sky. She wasn’t directly in the sun because I’d set our blanket in the shade, but it was still warm out here. By the expression on her face, it was clear she liked it.

I sank down beside her. It was the end of the summer, and London was recovering well. Engraftment had happened quickly for her, and her white blood count rose within the first month of the surgery. I teased her all the time, saying that clearly her body liked mine. 

She would laugh, but I noticed she didn’t deny it.

“Are you all packed?” London asked, running a hand over her head. Her hair had grown back a little. It was coming in thick and dark, not quite the same golden color as before, but close. She said she missed her old color, but I thought this suited her better. It made her eyes stand out even more.

“Almost.” My heart ached when I thought of leaving for Fallbrook. It had been my dream to pitch for the Fallbrook Falcons for years. And a part of me was excited. But mostly I was heartbroken over leaving London. In fact, I’d almost turned them down. But London talked me into waiting until we knew if the transplant worked. Once we found out that it had, she insisted that I go and pursue my dream. Still, I wasn’t sure I could do it.

Ultimately it was Dexter who had talked me into leaving. He and I had become close since the surgery. We took turns caring for London, and because of this Dexter had been able to return to work at the auto shop a few days a week. When I told him how I planned to turn down the Fallbrook offer and stay here to attend junior college, he stopped me.

“If you truly love London, you’ll go to Fallbrook.”

His words surprised me. How would leaving London prove that I loved her?

“If you stay, London will feel guilty and you’ll end up resenting her. Trust me, I know what I’m talking about. I’ve been around a lot longer than you, son.”

At the time I’d argued with him, but he was insistent. A part of me wondered if it was his way of getting rid of me. London and I were pretty serious. Maybe that scared him. But deep down I knew that wasn’t right. Dexter loved me like a son. Anyone could see that. Even my grandparents had commented on it.

As I mulled over Dexter’s words, I knew he was correct. If I gave up my dream to stay here with London, she would feel guilty. Her selflessness was one of the things I loved most about her. And, the truth was that this was my one shot at possibly playing professionally one day. If I gave that up, it stood to reason that I would resent her at some point. As much as I loved London, I loved baseball too. And I owed it to both of us to see where it took me.

Besides, London planned to go to college too. Maybe not away. That hadn’t been decided yet. But she still had a whole year to figure it out, to get stronger and healthier. I hated thinking of her finishing up her last year of Gold Rush High without me there to protect her. But she had Skyler, so I knew she’d be fine.

Speaking of which, Skyler’s head appeared in the window next door. I swear that girl lived with her nose pressed against that glass. London and I both waved from where we sat in London’s front yard before Skyler disappeared from sight.

“You better get packing, Coop,” London said. “You’re running of time.”

“Any chance I can pack you away in my suitcase?” I nudged her in the leg.

“I don’t think I’d fit,” she bantered back.

“Oh, I think you would, Miss Skinny Minnie.” I squeezed her slender leg.

She giggled. “That tickles.”

“It does, huh?”

“Oh, no. Now I’ve only encouraged you.” She scooted away from me slowly.

I gently tickled her leg, crawling nearer to her. She giggled as my fingers played with her tender flesh. But I knew I couldn’t go much farther. Her body was still recovering. After I drew my hand back, she lowered her body down onto the blanket until her back was flush against it. I stared down at her as she breathed, her chest rising and falling swiftly. God, I liked to watch her breathe. I loved seeing her alive and thriving. And I loved knowing that a part of me was in her body, that my cells were working their magic, healing her from the inside out.

Lying next to her, I wove our fingers together and stared up into the trees. Sunlight spilled through the leaves painting triangles of light on our legs. My toe touched hers. She wriggled it, displaying her pink polish. Damn, it was sexy.

Turning my head, I stole a kiss on her cheek. Swiveling her neck, she faced me. Her eyes sparkled in the sunlight, the flecks looking even more gold than usual.

“God, you’re breathtaking,” I told her, and her eyelashes fluttered. “I’m going to miss the hell out of you.” Reaching up, my fingers lit on her soft skin.

“Me too.”

“But I’ll call and text every day.”

“You better.”

My fingers trailed her flesh, touching her chin, her cheek, then gliding over her lips. “I will. And you better promise to keep me up to date on your health.”

“My body is healing, Coop.” Her breath was hot against my fingers. “You don’t have to worry so much.”

“Promise me.”
God, she was stubborn.

“I promise.”

Moving forward, our lips touched. A spark like static electricity shot through my body as our mouths connected. Her lips parted, eager, and our tongues melded together. My hand slid down her chin and skated down her neck. Warm fingers fanned my chest, tugged on the bottom of my shirt. When her hand slipped under the edge, I sucked in a breath. Her palm felt good as it slid up my bare chest, skimming over my muscles. Our mouths ground together, our teeth bumping. It was like we couldn’t get enough. I growled and kissed her more firmly.  A tiny moan at the back of her throat was her response. Her hand explored every inch of my chest, the pads of her fingers gliding over the muscles before curving around my shoulder.

“I love you, Cooper,” she spoke against my mouth.

I tasted her words, savoring them. When I met London I hadn’t been looking for love. In fact, I had been avoiding it, running from it even. I thought it was something I didn’t want. But I had been wrong. Loving London was the best thing that had ever happened to me.

“I love you too.” I kissed her again. “Always.”

THE END

FOR THE GAME (Playing for Keeps #2) Coming Winter 2014!

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