Truth in Watercolors (Truth Series Book 2) (27 page)

“You get your dick stuck in the vacuum again, Bluebell?” He sat up from his hospital bed.

“Got it stuck in your throat, kid,” he said swinging his skinny legs over the side of the bed coughing. Coughing. More damn coughing.

“You okay?” I asked walking to him and patting him on the back. That was what you did when someone coughed, right?

“Stop fuckin’ burpin’ me.” Blue reached back to swat my hand away.

“Mr. Blue?” Some way too buff doctor came in. Seriously. How was he a doctor? “You’re all set to leave. I wanted to go over a few things before you break out of here.” He looked at me and nodded. “Is it okay to speak in front of your friend?”

“Yeah, yeah.” Blue waved his hand at the doctor who sat in his rolly chair.

“Mr. Blue, this is quite serious.” The doctor opened his folder. “It looks as though you are in the early stages of emphysema.”
What the?

“Yeah,” Blue said scratching his nuts. Fuckin’ Blue.

“How have you been managing your COPD?” The doctor scribbled in his folder.

“CO what?” I asked, “and dude, emphysema?”

The doctor looked at Blue, who nodded and huffed. “Mr. Blue has chronic bronchitis. It’s a result of his years of smoking, and now it seems the habit has permanently damaged the airways and air sacs of his lungs.”

Fuck.
I reached up and gripped my hair in my fingers. “What does it all mean?” ‘Cause really it all sounded like scary jibberish.

“I’m dyin’,” Blue said.
I think.
I thought that was what he said. I wasn’t sure because my ears popped, and then my legs got wobbly, so I had to climb onto the bed Blue sat in.

“Jesus. You’re a pussy sometimes,” Blue grumbled next to me when a cup appeared in front of my face.

“Some water, sir,” the doctor said, and I took it from him dumping the cup on my face.

“Son of a bitch,” Blue grumbled next to me, and I felt his wrinkly ass cold hand squeeze mine.

“Mr. Blue, how have you been managing your COPD until this point?” The doctor continued to speak to Blue.

“Nothin’,” Blue said.

“What should he be doing?” I pushed myself up and looked at the doctor.

“The first thing he should do to slow down the progression of the disease is quit smoking.” That got a grumble from Blue next to me. I pushed past him and stood next to where he still sat on the bed. “He also should be using bronchodilators to help relax his airways and improve his breathing. Tonight, his O2 levels were at eighty-six percent, which is not good and the reason why he was having shortness of breath.”

“Bluebell, you couldn’t breathe? You should have had them call me,” I said to him, but he just shrugged.
Stubborn old ass.

“I’d also like for you to start pulmonary rehab to help you get the most out of the part of your lungs that isn’t damaged yet, and start you on oxygen, especially when you are more active and find yourself out of breath more quickly.” The doctor jibber jabbed away, and I did my best to type in the nonsense he was spewing into my phone.

The doctor handed Blue a packet of papers. “Here is all the information you will need as well as your prescriptions. Please take care of yourself, Mr. Blue.” The doctor stood and shook Blue’s hand before shaking mine.

“Okay, Bluebell,” I said scrolling through my notes, “Let’s get to the pharmacy and get your medication then we can call that rehab place in the morning.”

“Forget it, son,” Blue said standing up right into a coughing fit.

I waited for him to settle down. “Blue, he said we can slow it down, so let’s do it.” I put my phone in my pocket and reached out to help him walk, but he slapped my hand away and flipped me off.

“Son, I don’t have medical insurance. This stuff is more than a guy like me can afford. Just take me home.” He shuffled past me. Fuck. We didn’t have medical. None of us at the shop did.

“Well, we can buy some then,” I said, following him.

“It ain’t that easy. Especially when an old shit like me is already dyin’.”

“Stop saying that!” I shouted, stopping Blue in the hallway. Shit, my ears were popping again. Fuck, the bed was too far away. I squatted down to the ground.

Blue’s hand squeezed my shoulder. “Come on, son. Take me home.”

I wasn’t surprised that C was awake when I got home. The entire drive back to Blue’s, I thought about what I could do to help him and how we could get him going on his treatments. It all came down to one thing. Money. He needed the money, and we could get him feeling better and keep him as healthy as possible longer.

Now that I was home, and Capri was here waiting for me, I just wanted to fall.

“Hey.” She put her book away, stood from the couch, and pulled off her sexy glasses. I couldn’t get to her fast enough. I hung my keys in their place on the wall and hurried toward her.

She immediately stood on her toes and hugged me, wrapped those tiny arms not quite all the way around my waist, and hugged me. I sagged into her. She knew that I needed this. “How is he?” she whispered into my chest.

I pulled away and tugged on her hand so she would follow me back to the couch. I sunk into it and leaned my head back. “He has emphysema,” I said, still not totally keyed into what that all meant, but by her sharp inhale, she had a good idea.

“What? Did he just find out?” she asked, and I nodded.

“Yeah, but I guess he’s been sick for a while with something like it. All from his smoking and he still won’t quit. Stubborn jackass.”

“Oh, my gosh.” I felt her shift closer to me. “So what does it mean? What happens now?”

“There’s a lot of medicines he can take, and things he can do to help his lungs and to keep him from getting worse faster, but it all costs a lot of money, and he doesn’t have any insurance, so he hasn’t been doing any of it.”

“What the crap?” Capri shouted, and I smiled. “He needs to take his medicine. What is he thinking? Give me your phone.” She held out her hand. “I’m calling him right now.” I laughed and looked over at her with her angry face on. She cared about him.

“He’s sleeping now, baby,” I sat up and grabbed that hand, pulling her into my lap. She wiggled herself comfortable and leaned my head onto her shoulder.
That’s better.
“You can call him first thing in the morning and sass the shit out of him, okay?”

She nodded and then sighed. “So what can we do?” she asked, and I shook my head against her.

“I’ll figure something out,” I told her already knowing what I was going to do. I didn’t want to think about it anymore tonight. Right now, all I wanted was to hold my girl while I was still the man she deserved to be in the arms of.

I
knew Blue’s choice to smoke brought on his illness, but it didn’t make me any less mad that a great guy like him was sick. He was so cool and kind. It wasn’t fair. Life didn’t play nice.

I was especially worried about Wes with all of this. His whole life he’d been bounced around from family to family, friends to friends, house to house. I think he finally found a home with Blue. Now he found out that the one person who’d stuck by him and fought with him and for him was slowly getting sicker day by day. He had to be terrified.

“Is Wes here yet?” Kensie whispered to me while her class danced on a tiny stage in the gym. Tonight was the reopening of the youth center, and although Wes and I originally planned to come together, I didn’t question him when he said he’d be late because he wanted to go see Blue. Whatever he needed to do to make sure Blue was okay and to help himself be okay, I supported him in.

“Not yet,” I whispered doing a quick sweep of the crowd filled mostly by community members and kids who used the center.

“All right, girls!” Kensie shouted to the stage when the dance ended. The crowd clapped and dispersed to the tables set up at the back of the room with refreshments. I made my way out to the waiting room at the front entrance smiling and saying hello to strangers along the way still scanning the room for Wes.

Then I found him, looking entirely larger than life sitting on a small chair in a darkened corner of the waiting room. Alone. He held his head in his hands with his elbows propped on his knees. He was still and silent while the gym just feet behind us roared with life and laughter.

“Wes,” I said quietly so I wouldn’t spook him, but I moved toward him quickly. I wanted nothing more than to comfort him. His head moved up unhurriedly, but when his eyes caught up and saw me, he jumped from the chair to his feet.

“Hey.” His heavy exhale was obvious behind the pep in his voice. His arm reached out to me, and he caught my hand in his.

“How long have you been here?” I asked looking at him from under his lowered lashes.

“Just got here,” he said with a gentle shake of his head.

“You doing okay?” I lightly squeezed his hand.

His eyes lifted to mine. The anguish painted across them startled my heart.

Then he blinked and smirked. “Save some for me, baby.” His eyes flicked to my hand over my chest gripping fingers into my skin. “I want a handful later.” Then he kissed me on the cheek and strutted past me. Not good.

Overall, the reopening was a success. Shortly after Wes showed up, August presented the mural in front of the crowd drawing far more attention to myself than I would have liked.

I’d barely spoken to Wes since we came back into the gym. He occupied himself by bouncing around the room, bringing smiles and laughter to the people who were here. His cheerful facade didn’t fool me. He was hurting.

I watched him when he approached an older couple. Instead of shaking hands, he gave each one a hug, and his energetic dispositions settled. Then I saw Ridge approach the trio. He saw me from across the room and waved his hand in the air. “Miss Capri!” he shouted, earning himself a pathway of stares and knock in the head from Wes. I laughed and made my way over.

“Miss Capri. These are my foster parents,” Ridge said practically bouncing on his toes. “And as of Monday, they’ll be my real parents,” he beamed.

“Seriously?” I asked, and he nodded eagerly.

“Well, we’ve always considered ourselves his parents.” His mom leaned in to give me a hug. “But it will be legal on Monday.”