It’s Always Us (Abandoned Brothers #3)

Chapter 42

LEX

I blink as the last bits of light filter through the large window that expands the wall of my hospital room. I try to survey the room, but a throbbing ache prevents me from moving too quickly.

I reach for my forehead, where the searing pain burns. My fingers run over the bumps of the bandage where they stitched my skin back together.

“Hey.” My mom pulls a chair over next to the bed. “How are you feeling?”

“Like I’ve been hit by a truck.” My voice is low and scratchy.

“It’s good you didn’t lose your sense of humor.” Her hand falls on top of mine, and her voice softens. “You scared me. You know that?”

I meet my mom’s soft eyes. We have our differences, but she’s still my mom and I know now more than ever that she loves me.

“Where’s Grandpa?”

“He’ll be back soon. He went to get Bree to bring her to see you. I’ll take her home and stay with her tonight.”

I remember the doctor advising me to stay overnight to monitor the babies. I twist to see the narrow strip printing as it records.

“So far so good.” My mom smiles, clearly following my gaze. “They must be two very content babes in there.”

I spread my hands over them, so thankful it brings tears to my eyes.

“Shhh.” My mom’s hand runs over my hair, smoothing it back. “They’re fine. You’re fine.”

“What if . . . ” I can’t even finish it .

Her hand wraps around mine. “No matter what we do and how hard we try, we can’t protect or shield our kids from everything. You did your very best today, keeping them safe.”

I swipe at a tear, remembering that I was talking to Mark’s voicemail. I try to sit up. “I need my phone. I have to call Mark.”

“We can’t find it. Grandpa called him. He’s on his way.”

I rest back, frowning. “What? Grandpa called him.”

“Yeah. He should be here soon.”

Every part of me yearns for him to be here.

“I’m excited to meet him,” my mom says, smiling. “I didn’t know you two were so serious in high school. Also, didn’t know he was the Mark Sandberg.” Her eyebrows raise with amusement, but then her gaze falls to her finger, running over a wrinkle in the scratchy sheet. “You know, when your dad left . . . I just never want anything like that for you.”

“Mark isn’t my father, Mom.”

“I didn’t think that’s who your father was either.”

“It’s not the same.” I don’t know how to explain this to her. I know she’s never had what I found with Mark at sixteen. I brace my hands on both sides of my belly, feeling our babies move. Peyton and Eli.

I let out a breath of relief. “I trust Mark.” Even as I say it, I do. I trust him with everything. “He’s in this. He’s not going anywhere. He’ll be here for these babies and me . . . always.”

There isn’t any part of that declaration I believe to be untrue. I’m not sure how I know. I just do.

“I like Bob,” I offer, wanting to move off Mark.

One side of her mouth tips up. “He kind of laid into me after you left dinner that night. I’m not used to having a man tell me I’m wrong.”

“It means he cares.”

A soft, subtle smile appears. “I think I’m beginning to see that.”

There’s a light knock on the door, and Slade and Grandpa stroll in with Bree. Her face is pale, and she sticks close to them.

“Hey. Come here.” It takes a moment, but she comes to stand beside the bed. “I’m fine. Ok?” Her eyes flick to my belly and the bumps of the monitors. “They’re fine, too. Want to feel?”

She bites her lip and slowly raises her hand. I take it and place it on the underside of my belly, where one of them punches me.

Her eyes grow wide, and a small smile escapes .

“See, they clearly don’t understand we’re supposed to be resting.”

Grandpa plops down in a chair as Slade stands at the foot of my bed, assessing me.

“You look pretty good compared to your truck.” Slade’s large hands rest on his hips.

My truck . “Totaled?”

He nods.

Great. Now, I don’t even have a vehicle. I sigh, but it sounds more like a pathetic whimper.

“You and the babies good?” he asks.

“Yeah. I have to stay overnight for monitoring, but we’re good.”

“The guys were about to camp out in the waiting area. I’m not sure if it was for you or the nurses.”

I laugh, and it hurts my head. “These nurses are too nice to have to deal with their loud nonsense.”

“That’s for sure,” he chuckles.

My mom stands, placing her hands on Bree’s shoulders. “What do you think, Bree? Shall we grab a pizza, watch a movie, and paint our nails this evening?”

“Sure,” she says hesitantly, and I hate that this happened. Consistency has not been her friend lately, and that’s exactly what she needs.

I grab her hand. “I’ll be there to pick you up from school tomorrow, ok?”

She nods. “Can I call you in the morning?”

I smile. “Uh . . . you better.”

She leans over the bed to hug me, and I squeeze her tight. My mom will keep her busy this evening doing all kinds of girly things she’ll love that I never wanted any part of.

“All right, girlfriend.” My mom takes her hand. “Gentlemen, if you’ll excuse us, we have beauty treatments and chick flicks waiting.”

“Don’t you be turning my house into some beauty salon,” Grandpa says, but there’s a twinkle in his eye.

Bree giggles, and my mom turns back in the doorway. “I wouldn’t dream of it.”

Once they’re gone, I turn to Grandpa. “You talked to Mark? ”

“I just wanted to check on you,” Slade cuts in like he doesn’t want to intrude on this conversation. “Get some rest. Let me know if you need anything.”

I nod, holding my arms out so he knows he’s not leaving without a hug. “Thanks for coming and for checking out my truck.”

“Anytime, but don’t ever do that again.”

“I’m going to try really hard not to.”

Slade ducks out the door, leaving me with the old man, and I have some questions.

My eyes find him, but he’s fiddling with his phone, and the fart isn’t doing anything but avoiding me.

“I heard you called Mark.” His eyes remain set on his screen. Complete and total avoidance. “I didn’t know you had his number.”

“Huh.” He scratches his gray scruff that’s quickly turning into a beard.

“Would you like to tell me how you got that?”

“Not really.”

Well, that was quick. “You can either tell me or he will.”

He rests back in the odd chair that converts into a bed, crossing his arms over his chest. “He gave it to me.”

He’s like an old mule that won’t budge no matter how hard you kick. “Did he? When?” I know this man won’t lie to me.

“Pal, does it really matter?”

“Since you’re putting up such a fuss, it seems to me it really does.”

He leans forward, his arms on his knees. When he sits like this, he looks younger, and I see the man who showed me how to remove an oil filter for the first time.

His eyes stay trained on the floor. “He called me after his first win in the NFL. Started off shootin’ the shit.”

He rubs his jaw while an ache forms in my core that expands quickly. He called.

“I knew what he was calling for, and I told him you were good. He started calling me about every couple of months, which stretched to twice a year or so. He never asked about you, but I knew he wasn’t calling to ask me about the shop and life in Ohio.”

I rub my chest, needing the pain to stop. Grandpa must be able to tell and pauses exhaling a long breath .

“When you got engaged, I called him. I told him he either needed to get his ass back here or quit calling. You both had lived miserable long enough.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

His head falls to the side. “Pal, you and I both know you were carrying enough pain around, and it wouldn’t have done anything but add more. You didn’t need that on top of it. One of you had to make the move.”

Mark had been calling for years. I can’t even process that. “Did he call you about the Bronco?”

Grandpa grins. “I knew you’d lose your shit over that old thing. You’re gonna need it now.”

I laugh, and one small tear escapes.

“Pal, my old ticker can’t handle this. You and these babies . . . ” His voice softens, and I see the glistening in his eyes.

“I love you, too, Grandpa . . . so much.”

He sniffs and wipes his nose. “How about I go see what kind of cardboard marinated in salt the cafeteria offers while we wait for Prince Charming?”

“You shouldn’t be eating that?”

“Shit, girl. After today, nothing’s going to kill me. Certainly not ultra-processed and fried beyond recognition garbage.”

“Fine. Hurry up. Your grandbabies are hungry.”

Grandpa hustles out of the room while I try to wrap my head around Mark calling all those years. He called, and I never knew.

I close my eyes, just needing him to get here.