In Your Arms (14 page)

              Chicago is surprisingly sunny for winter and January. I take a taxi to the hospital where my father is at, luckily the pilot was ready for me when I got to the airport, so we were able to leave fairly quickly.

              I got to the hospital and I saw my brother sitting in the waiting room. I could see that he's grown an inch or two since I last saw him, he must be six feet now.

              Matty looked up and ran to me. He hugged me. I didn't realize how much I missed him until he hugged me.

              “How's dad?” I ask him and he pulls away.

              “They finished up with him in surgery two hours ago, he's awake and responsive. Mom is in there with him. Do you want to see him?”

              I was nervous. I didn't know how this encounter would go, it could go bad or it could go really well. I hate uncertainty.

              “Do they know I'm here?” He nods.

              “Mom told me to call you.”

              Mom. I've decided not to say anything about me knowing she isn't my birth mother because she raised me and she loved me as much as she could, she is my real mom. Letting her know what I know would hurt her. Although we didn't get along all the time, I knew she truly cared for me the best she could.

              “She did?”

              “Yes.” I think for a moment, and decide it's time to grow some metaphorical balls.

              “Take me to his room.”

              His room is white. Last time I was in a hospital room, it was for my brother. It was in the pediatric wing, so his room was colorful and he got to decorate it to his liking. I remember helping him tape stuff to the wall and annoying the mean nurses every chance we got.

              “Ashton, happy birthday.” My father's voice was soft.

              I was trying not to cry, but I couldn't help it. “Daddy.” I hugged him with caution and he hugged me back.

              I missed him. I sat in the chair my mom had been preoccupying. She gave me a hug and let me sit down next to my father.

              “I want you to move back here, Ashton. I thought I was going to die today, and it gave me clarity as to what really matters. My family, cliché, I know. All I could think about was the way I treated you, isolating you like that wasn't right.”

              “You did it to make me learn a lesson, and I learned it. I got into NYU, I'll be starting in the Fall.”

              “You're going to pursue a degree in something?” I could see the relief in my fathers eyes. Although he would support me in what I wanted to do, I know he wanted me to have something to fall back on.

              “Interior design is my goal...” I spend an hour catching him up on my plans and how my grandmother was doing. I had to stop when he had to take his pain medicine, and it instantly made him fall asleep, so my mother had us go to the cafeteria.

              I was eating popcorn chicken, and my mother was looking at me with disgust. She doesn't eat chicken, and up until I tasted chicken fingers at age eight, neither did I. After that, I basically forced her to feed me chicken for a month straight. She finally put her foot down, and told me I could only have chicken once a month at the house.

              “We got a bill from a doctor in New York.” She begins. “Did you get sick recently or was it just a check up?”

              Her green eyes were inspecting me. I think she was afraid I might be knocked up or something, even though she was the one that put me on the shot.

              “I had a pain, but the doctor said it was stress.”

              “Is he sure it's just stress?” She sounded nervous. Was she afraid, like I was, that I had inherited my mothers cancer gene? “Did he run any tests?”

              “I got an ultrasound and blood work basically testing for everything. Everything came back normal.”

              She's quiet for a moment before she speaks up again. “You would tell me if you were sick though, right?”

              I nod. “Don't I always?” I chuckle.

              Every time I had a fever or even a cough, I wanted my mother. She would stay home and cancel business meetings if I was sick. Over time, it didn't happen as often because I was growing up and I thought I could do everything on my own. Now I know that I can't.

              “Remember the time I had you making ice cream sandwiches with me? Oh god, I was a terrible mother feeding you ice cream while you were sick.”

              “Trust me, you weren't. Baking and cooking with you was always the highlight of my day or week. I seriously thought the ice cream was helping me feel better all the time.”

              She smiled at me.

              “I'm glad you're back. We've really missed you around here.” She grabbed my hand. “You're staying with us until school starts, right?”

              I didn't know how to answer that. I had a new life in New York, there was Callie, Elizabeth, my job, and Braxton. I couldn't drop all of that to come back here?...Except I just did that. My boss gave me an extra week off, Callie was kind about me canceling our plans, Elizabeth didn't know where I was, and Braxton...I don't even know if we're serious. We can't even admit what we are in public, so I don't know.

              “I think I'm going to go back.”

Chapter 23

Braxton Pennington

Day 1:

              I've decided to tell Charles about Ashton and I. I can't bare the secretiveness anymore, and I think it will be better if he hears it from me and not from someone else.

              I place a one hundred bill on his desk and Charles looks at it then at me with a weird expression. I sit on his couch. To be honest, I was terrified to see how this conversation would be playing out.

              “Did I win something?” We often liked to place bets.

              “Remember that day we were flying to New York?” I watched as Charles thought about it for a moment before it hit him what I was talking to him about.

              “A woman? A woman has you on her leash?” I nod. He laughs. “Oh my God, tell me who this woman is right this instant. No wonder you've barely gone out to the bar since we got here. Tell me now.”

              “Here's the thing...you already know her.”

              “Is it someone from the office?” I shake my head. “A New Yorker here?” I shake my head again. “Spit it out, Brax.”

              “I want you to know that I honestly did not mean to fall for her. It just sort of happened.” I sigh. “It's Ashton.”

              “You're fucking kidding me? Is that why you wanted that I have nothing to do with her? I really liked her and you just swooped in to take her.” He yells, I was expecting that.

              “It honestly started as nothing. I was jealous of your friendship with her, so I started being her friend, too. But I didn't want to only be her friend, I wanted more.”

              “You made sure there was nothing between us.”

              “At the time, I honestly believed I was looking out for you. But I hurt you both, and I realized I was wrong.” He shakes his head.

              “This is un-fucking-believable.” He mutters under his breath. “You are the most selfish person I've ever met, Braxton. I thought I was your best friend.”

              “You are-”

              “Friend's don't do that to each other.” He gets up from his chair and he starts walking out of his office. “I don't want to talk to you anymore.” He slammed the door and I dropped my head into my hand.

              Did I just lose my best friend?

Day 2:

              “Hey, love.” I answer when Ashton calls me. Or at least I think it is Ashton because it sure doesn't sound like her.

              “So are you and my sister dating?” Matty. Ashton's brother.

              “Who would like to know?” I was joking, obviously I knew it was him.

              “The person who will get you accepted into this family. Trust me, if you can get past me then you can get past my parents. I will repeat the question, are you two dating?”

              “Yes.”

              “How long has this been going on?”

              “Christmas Eve.”

              “That's a very short amount of time.” He reminded me a lot of Ashton.

              “We've known each other since the beginning of November.” I hear Ashton in the background, and it sounds muffled so I assume Matty has covered the phone. I can still make out the words though, it isn't hard.

              “Why do you have my phone?”

              “Needed to make a phone call.”

              “To who?” I hear shuffling, and Ashton's voice comes on.

              “I'll call you later, good luck with your meeting.” And she hung up.

              Ashton doesn't know that I've told Charles, and I have to see him tonight. I hope he isn't mad at me forever, but I know he won't forgive me so easily like before. I want to explain that Ashton is different, and that I was falling hard for her.

Day 3:

              I placed the plate of food in front of my grandfather. He was glaring at my mother who decided to come at the last minute for my release party. She told me she wouldn't be coming, and now she was crashing at her fathers place. My grandfather wasn't exactly happy, and I don't blame him because I know my mother.

              “Stop staring at me like you want to kill me.”

              “I'll look at you how I want, it's my home.”

              My mum rolled her eyes and looked at me. “How's America suiting you, love?” I sat down next to her.

              “It's been lovely here.”

              “It sure does have it's charm, but it's no London.” now it's my turn to roll my eyes, and I look to my grandfather.

              “Lindsay, the boy likes New York, if he wants to stay here or any place other than London it is perfectly okay.”

              “I'm almost twenty nine, not a boy.” My grandfather gives me a look. “I'm just pointing it out.” I mutter.

              My mother is beautiful. But beauty is what got her involved with my father and it got her into a lot of trouble rather than out of it.

              “London was where he was born. I miss my baby. He could do his book stuff and blog back in London.” This was a constant battle with my mother.

              Here's the thing about my mother...she has abandonment issues. When we were growing up, and dad left, she had a lot of trouble letting us figure out our footing in the world. We couldn't stray because she was always afraid we'd leave her and never look back. Ironically, that's what drove my sisters away from her.

              “I'll constantly be visiting London, mum. It's my home, but I love America, too. There's so much of it to see, and I'm still trying to figure out where I fit in this world.”

              My mother knows me. She stares at me. “There's a girl isn't there? That's why you don't want to come back to London.”

              “That is not the whole reason.” Part of the reason.

              “What's her name?” I shake my head.

              “We're not doing this right now, mum.” I groan. I manage to catch her stealing glances with my grandfather who was smirking. “Don't you dare tell her any of it.”

              “Then tell me yourself, love.” I sigh.

              “Yeah, tell her.” My grandfather says.

              “I met her the day I got to New York, but before you try and figure out who she is and where she lives, she's not in New York at the moment. She's in Chicago for a family emergency. All you have to know is that she makes me feel things I didn't know I could feel.”

              My mother smiles. “Well, when do I get to meet the woman who is making my little boy so happy?”

              “How about I bring her to London?” Her excitement shows.

              I wasn't sure if Ashton would be back in time for the book release, so I don't mention it because I don't want my mother to get her hopes up.

              “Better do it soon or I will keep coming back until I meet her.”

              I laugh. “Don't worry, I will.”

Day 4:

              Charles calls me into his office. He has been having his intern deal with me for the past four days, which I find absolutely ridiculous, but I didn't complain because I was giving him time to cool off.

              “Sit.” He commands, and I sit at the far end of the couch. I didn't want to be within swinging range.

              “Are we finally going to talk about this?” I ask.