Better Not Love Me Read online

  "It's not much of a life," Chloe said. "He's attached to that machine. It fills him with fluid then drains it out of him. That's why his abdomen is so big, it hasn't been drained yet. That'll come tonight. It's only been a few weeks, so I'm learning this stuff too. The nurses at the cancer clinic are nice and have helped out a lot. One of them comes over every morning to check on him and makes sure he's got all the supplies he needs."

  "Can he talk? Can he move?"

  "Oh, yeah. Of course. He won't shut up. He's got this sudden interest in watching the Texas Rangers baseball games too. It's a strange fixation. He hates baseball. And I've heard all about the Rangers terrible bullpen and need for a decent power hitter in the lineup."

  "I guess that's good," Amelia said.

  "Not when you have to keep listening to it day after day. Believe me. But as long as he's talking, that's all I really care about. He's been up walking a bit. They require it, in fact, but he hasn't left the house. I had to take away his iPad. He wouldn't stop working."

  "He's back to work?" Amelia asked.

  "That's what he says."

  Amelia took several deep breaths and acted as though she was ready to return to the bedroom. But Chloe stopped her.

  "He's not going to like that I let you see him like this. I think maybe we should wait until he's awake and I can get him prepared to see you."

  "OK," Amelia said. "That's understandable."

  They left the hall and went downstairs. Chloe sat on the couch and Amelia sat across from her in a chair.

  "If you’d told me you were coming, I could have had him up," Chloe said.

  "I didn’t know I was coming until this morning," Amelia said.

  She relayed her story about meeting with Walt Riddell and thinking that Nate was gone.

  "Yeah, my dad got a good chuckle out of that flower arrangement for his funeral," Chloe laughed. "He said that Walt had always been one step ahead of him in life, so why not in death too."

  "That's an interesting perspective."

  "But mostly he just thought it was funny."

  "Good," Amelia said with a smile.

  Amelia wanted to ask Chloe why they left the cabin, but she didn’t want to put the poor girl on the spot. She'd been through enough.

  "When I got here you said you knew that I'd come. Why?"

  "Because I've never seen my dad talk about someone the way that he talks about you. Even now, after all this."

  Chapter 39

  Seven days later

  Amelia walked up the now familiar steps to the big white house. The sounds of the neighborhood were not out of the ordinary. There was the buzz from the AC unit on the side of the house and the occasional swoosh as a car passed by, but nothing that marked this place as special or different. Her senses were not heightened. She was glad for this, for the familiar. But she also knew that today was likely going to be exactly the same as every other day since Amelia's first visit to see Nate.

  He would again refuse to see her.

  The first time it happened, she understood. Then she was bothered the second day. The third day she was fully annoyed. This remained her state on the fourth, fifth and sixth days. She sat in the living room with Chloe and sometimes the nurse from the cancer clinic. They talked about the weather or Chloe's school.

  They did not talk about Nate or the elephant in the room. His refusal to see her, again and again was not up for discussion.

  She couldn't determine if she was mad at Nate or if she had some kind of irrational respect for the stubborn man. Chloe didn't attempt to explain him. The nurse didn’t either. Why did they get to see him and Amelia was an outcast?

  Each day, when it was clear that Nate would remain locked in his room, Amelia would leave. She would thank Chloe for her time and tell her that she would be back again the next day. She was certain that Chloe was passing along the message and she was also certain that Nate's will to refuse her would break before her desire to give up. He wouldn't win this one. No, he may be stubborn and currently acting like a fool, but she was determined to beat this fool.

  Amelia continued to visit Walt Riddell as well; she had considerable free time. He was relieved to find that he did not send Nate flowers in error. She elected to not tell Walt that he had chosen a funeral arrangement for Nate's get well gift. She and Walt got along famously. She tried not to pity the old man. He was once so important and powerful. Nowadays he just puttered around the house, straightening his piles of old magazines and newspapers. They talked about family, his businesses, and Walt gave Amelia advice on how she could rebuild Mr. Z's Toys after it was gone. He too was resigned to the fact that the stores were out of reach. This disappointed her greatly; she thought he would care more, but it wasn't his fight after all. He'd given the stores a lifeline years ago. He'd done his part. It was she who left and let them slip away.

  Walt prepared her for the inevitable closure of the stores—the one thing she feared most. They would liquidate everything. Big "STORE CLOSING" signs would be posted in the windows. Bargain hunters would inspect every inch of the stores and strip them bare until there was nothing left but a memory and an outline where something great used to be.

  So as Amelia walked the path on the seventh day to see Nate, she was slowly slipping into depression. The stores were lost. Nate wouldn't see her. She missed her children. Today would be the last day she'd make the trip to the big white house. She'd stay until the afternoon, like every other day; but if she was rejected again, she wouldn't come back. There's only so much a person can take and Amelia was too strong to allow this to continue. She wouldn't let herself be taken for a ride, not anymore.

  She knocked on the door.

  Chapter 40

  "He's in here," Chloe said as she led them toward the study, a room Amelia had not been in before.

  Amelia followed, her heart pounding. Chloe opened the door, but let her enter alone. And then she saw him. Her heart sank.

  Nate's hair was thin and his face was pale. He wore a pair of gray sweatpants and a dark blue cotton V-neck shirt, the kind with the little pocket on the breast. As Amelia walked closer she could see under the shirt, the nub of a plastic tube protruding from his stomach where the dialysis machine would attach and do its work. She didn't back away though. It didn't scare her; she was prepared for this. She closed the distance between them as quickly as she could. Up close she saw that his face was unshaven. His stubble was patchy and unkempt.

  He was leaning slightly to the right in a leather recliner. She touched his arm. His skin was damp.

  Nate opened his mouth to speak, but no words came out, just the sound of his tongue smacking against the roof of his dry mouth. He swallowed hard. But then held up his hand as if to say, give me just one second. I can do this.

  He grasped the pink plastic cup on the small table by the recliner and took a long sip from the bendy straw. The effort seemed excruciating.

  He cleared his throat.

  The words came slowly.

  "I don’t want you to be here," he said. "You aren’t supposed to be here."

  Amelia expected the bravado.

  "Stop being so damn proud," she said. "It's getting tiresome."

  Nate grinned. Obviously he'd expected her to be more put off by this comment.

  "I'm going to tell you something that you should already know," Amelia said. "But you're too bullheaded or just enough of an idiot to miss it. You need to stop pushing me away."

  "I'm protecting you," he said softly, "from me."

  "Well, knock it off," she said, her voice raised. "You're going to ruin this. I don't need protecting. I'm a big girl. In fact your protecting is exactly what I don't need. I've experienced pain and betrayal my entire life. I've learned to cope with it, but for some reason you think that shutting me out is somehow a better option? Who wins in this scenario?"

  "I don't want to hurt you," he said.

  She couldn't help that her eyes welled up in tears. She hated that it was happening. She wanted to s
how she was fierce.

  "You're hurting me more by hiding from me," she managed to say. "Your plan backfired. I love you."

  Nate looked down at his lap. His head rose and fell as he breathed through his nose.

  "Why?" he said, not looking at her.

  "Why what?"

  "Why . . . No. How can you love me?" he asked.

  "I didn't chose to," she said, exasperated. "I can't help it. You're like a magnet and I'm drawn to you. All the obstacles that we've fought through, even the ones that you put up, I've been drawn to you. You're a good man. You're just too proud to let anyone in."

  "But look at me . . . I'm not—"

  "Don't finish that sentence. You're going to be fine. You'll have to live life differently than before, but you can survive this. You beat the cancer. You can beat not having any kidneys."

  "No, I can't. Don't you see?

  "I did the research. People have done it before."

  "For a few years, maybe. That's it. I have an expiration date. And I don't want you wasting your life watching me die."

  "Why don't you understand that you don't get to decide what I do?" she told him.

  It was now Nate who couldn't hold back the tears. When Amelia sat on the edge of the recliner and reached her arms around him, he didn’t push her away.

  Nate put his hands over her arms and pulled her close.

  "I guess it’s a good thing you never listen to me," he said.

  She kissed him on the forehead. He lifted his head and their eyes met. They kissed. Just a peck. Two stubborn adults who could only be better together.

  * * *

  Amelia never asked Nate why he left the cabin without saying goodbye. She didn't have to. Over the next few days Nate told her everything. He shared about the doctor's appointments and how he asked Chloe to lie for him and how awful he felt for including her in his deception.

  Nate made it abundantly clear that he was upset that Amelia cared so much for him.

  "You deserve better—someone you can count on," he said. "For the long run."

  "I'm in this with you," she replied. "Don't worry about me."

  "I do love you though," he said. "Even if you won't leave me alone."

  The fragile relationship wasn't what either of them envisioned, but it was the best they had. Amelia was happy, but inside she was worried. She did her best to hide it. He was sick and Amelia knew about the low survival rate for people without kidneys, even those with the best of care. He had a three-to-five-year life expectancy.

  That was not long enough. She needed him. There were so many things she wanted to know and experience with him. She wanted to go back in time and see Nate before his cancer jaded him. Before he decided that he was better off without anyone and pushed love away.

  "Nate, whatever happened to that tree you shot when you were a kid?" Amelia asked. "It's just a stump. Cut down. The bullet didn't do that. I'm not sure why I'm thinking about it now. But that story obviously meant something to you."

  Nate cleared his throat before speaking.

  "A few weeks after I intentionally missed the deer and hit the tree, my grandfather told me to cut it down."

  "Why?"

  "He said that I didn't need to be reminded of my decision every time I saw the bullet hole in the tree. He knew what I did."

  "Was he right?"

  "Not even close. You can't erase an action that easily. By trying to forget it happened. You just have to learn from it and be better the next time. That's what I want to do with us."

  "Me too."

  * * *

  Amelia couldn’t stay in Dallas, at least not indefinitely. She stayed at Nate's house and helped Chloe care for him for another week. Each day he seemed like he was making small steps toward getting back to being himself, although none of them were under the illusion that he'd ever be the same again. Maybe the small steps forward were only in her mind. She wanted it so bad.

  Assuming the cancer stayed in remission, that still left the kidneys causing trouble. Or no kidneys, as it was. Amelia had done her research, it was possible for Nate to receive a transplant, but the likelihood was extremely small.

  The Transplant Board would have to weigh his history of cancer against the history of someone who didn’t have cancer before. He'd have to wait for at least two years to see if the cancer returned as well. Even if they approved him for a transplant, getting a kidney wasn't easy and it wasn't a magic bullet. Chloe said that her father wasn't even on the list yet. He hadn't even asked about it.

  Maybe she could give Nate a kidney, Amelia thought. She had a spare after all. No, he'd never go for that in a million years. It was off the table, no question. Same thing for Chloe too. She'd probably already been tested.

  But they didn’t talk about that.

  They didn’t talk about work either. No stress over the pending collapse of Mr. Z's. Amelia didn't want Nate to get involved. He needed to focus on getting well, that was all. A store full of toys or a pile of balanced budget sheets all stacked up against his life and happiness seemed pretty silly. Mr. Z's did matter. It just shouldn't matter to Nate right now and Amelia made sure he avoided it.

  The stores still weighed heavily on Amelia's mind, and it seemed as if she finally understood why. Mr. Z's was the only place that she was ever truly happy. The reasons were so numerous she wondered why she didn't realize it earlier.

  She fell in love with Edwin at the toy store and she married Josh while she was running the store. She lost both, but it all started inside Mr. Z's.

  She earned her place in the professional world while at the helm of the flagship store and the franchise stores, but she chose to leave it all behind.

  And she met Nate there too. Poor, misguided, idiotic, lovable Nate. And she was about to leave him behind too. Why did she always have to part with what she wanted?

  To stay with Nate longer meant she'd have to leave the kids behind. And she didn't want to do that. Her maternal instincts were kicking in strong. She needed to get home to see them. Marcus had already emailed her about an English paper he was writing and she wanted to talk to him about his volunteer days at the Annex. Susanna was stressing about a sleepover with some new friends and sounded like she needed a hug and some womanly advice. Video chats weren't the same as being there in person. She was glad to be needed and wanted to get home. But she hated making sacrifices. Deciding to choose one person she cared about over another. She was torn over staying longer, but her heart was pulling her home.

  The plane ticket was in her purse. She'd have to say her temporary goodbye this afternoon.

  Chapter 41

  The Annex

  Spokane

  Marcus wiped the plastic tray clean from the remnants of dinner. Luke warm carrots and bits of mashed potatoes were all that was left to dump into the garbage can inside the kitchen of the Annex. He stacked the tray on top of a dozen other dirty trays on the stainless steel countertop and wiped the sweat from his forehead, unintentionally smearing a glob of gravy across his face.

  Its unglamorous work, no doubt about it. He ripped a paper towel from the holder under the cabinet and cleaned off the gravy before turning on the water. He waited for it to get hot, squirted some liquid dish soap on the top tray and began to wash them. Marcus hated working in the kitchen. The smells of twice-baked food all around and the nauseating scent of industrial bleach permeated every corner of the place. His hands shriveled up like prunes from the water and his appetite abandoned him.

  But the residents of the Annex enjoyed the food. At least that's what the cook told him. What else would she say, that they hated the food, but came for the atmosphere? Not likely. They ate what was served and didn’t complain because they didn't have a choice. Marcus did have a choice, but not about the food. He chose to volunteer at the Annex. To make a difference. And to see the quiet girl, Denny.

  Ever since he met the girl months ago when he helped with the nursery remodel, he couldn't get her out of his mind. Everything she owned was
in a duffle bag at the foot of her bed inside the Annex. She'd lived there with her mom and stepdad going on four months. Denny stayed true to form. She didn't talk about her past much, but after asking around and piecing together Denny's brief comments, he'd managed to get a rough idea of why the family lived in the shelter.

  Denny's mom was an addict, albeit a recovering one. The shelter gave their residents random drug screening tests to encourage them to stay away from any kind of drugs. A failed test meant you were asked to leave. Her mom wasn't in any place to hold down a job and support her daughter, so they relied on Denny's stepdad, Logan. Logan lost his job, and as Marcus repeatedly heard from other residents, one thing led to another and they became homeless. They were forced to live in Logan's pickup truck and the fiberglass camper on the bed. The Annex was an upgrade versus sleeping next to Logan's empty beer cans, for sure.

  The Annex didn't test for alcohol consumption, otherwise Logan would have been asked to leave. He was a large, brooding man who wore shirts with no sleeves even on cool autumn days. Upon first meeting him, Logan was quick to show people his dancing lady tattoo. He'd flex his bicep and jiggle the hula girl on his left arm. Marcus had seen it several times and tried to act impressed at each occurrence. Logan was gregarious and handsy. He liked to put his arm around people when he talked to them, or maybe it was just that he needed the support to steady himself. Marcus couldn't be sure.

  Marcus arranged the trays on a drying rack so he could begin soaking the large pots and cooking utensils. He'd learned early on that these old cooking implements needed a good soaking or he'd be scrubbing them all night long. And he had his mind on other things. Like spending some more time with Denny.

  He watched out the window of the kitchen as Denny's mom animatedly waved her hands around while she told a story of some kind. Denny listened in silence, occasionally nodding her head. Logan just stuffed his face with Salisbury steak. The cafeteria was nearly empty.

  Marcus again thought about Denny's duffle bag and what little was inside it. She'd shown him one night. Marcus wasn't supposed to be in the single room Denny's family shared, but Pastor Isakson had given him a little more leeway and access because he was putting in so many volunteer hours. Inside the bag were a few changes of clothes, a purple hoodie, a teddy bear and her Bible. The purple hoodie was on a regular rotation with a gray one. The hoodies were always zipped up tight. No skin showing whatsoever. She was always covered up. Maybe she was cold or maybe she just liked wearing them. He never asked.