I rub my hand over my face. My whole body aches, and my eyes feel like somebody poured sand in them, but I know sleep won’t come. “I need you to grab the guys and come here.”
“Here where?”
“What’s going on, Yasmin? You’re scaring me. Is everything all right?”
“It’s Nixon’s mom.” I swallow hard. “She just died.”
As soon as I hear the sound of the car pulling up in front of the house I wipe my hands on the towel and go for the door. I’ve barely pulled it open when Callie collides with me, her hands pulling me into a tight hug.
“Oh, Yasmin.”
Slowly, I will my hands to move and return her hug, patting her on the back.
“What happened?” Hayden asks, a grim look on his face. Zane and Maddox stand behind him, matching worried glances on their faces.
“Cancer,” I whisper, rage at the stupid disease boiling inside of me.
“Fuck.” Zane rubs his hand over his face.
“How long?”
I don’t have to ask Hayden to explain himself. I can feel his frustration and overall helplessness. But I know I have to do this. I have to be the one to give them some kind of answers, what little I can, so they don’t ask Nixon about it because I don’t think he has it in him to answer.
It doesn’t matter that Jade and Nixon knew she was dying, have been by her side this whole time, Helen’s death has devastated both of them.
They stayed closed in the room for hours while I made some coffee and started cleaning. I didn’t know what to do with myself, so I figured I might as well be useful.
After the door finally eased open, Nixon came out with a sleeping Jade in his arms. Even with her eyes closed, I could see how puffy they were, and her skin was all red from crying. I helped him take her to her room, thankful that at least one of them is out and doesn’t have to face reality, at least for a little bit.
Shaking the memories away, I look at my friends. “Since Christmas. Well, before. But that’s when they found out it was terminal.”
That’s when their father left them, leaving them to deal with their mother’s illness and slow death all on their own. But I don’t say that out loud. If and when Nixon is ready, he’ll share that.
Three months.
That’s how long it took for the disease to claim her.
Three months.
It feels like barely enough time, but at the same time, a lifetime.
“Dammit.” Hayden turns around, running his hands through his hair. “Why didn’t he say anything?”
Callie pulls back and looks at me. “And how did you know?”
Sighing, I look around the group. If Nixon had only said the word, they would have been with him all the way. “He didn’t want to burden anybody with it. And I found out by accident. That day when my car broke down. I called you, remember?” I turn to Callie, and she nods. “There was an emergency, so he brought me here with him. It wasn’t exactly planned.”
We stand in the doorway for a while, nobody saying anything. What is there to say, really? Nixon made a choice that he thought was best for him, and nobody can fault him for it.
“Where is he?” Maddox asks, breaking the tense silence.
I offer him a grateful smile. Out of all the guys, I know him the least, but he seems like a nice guy. “The last I saw him, he was in the study making arrangements.”
I offered to help him, although I don’t have a clue about organizing a funeral, but he said he needed to do this on his own, so I left him and a cup of coffee in the study.
Shifting my weight from one leg to another, I say, “I didn’t tell him I called you guys. I’m not sure if he would have wanted you here, but I couldn’t let him deal with this all on his own.”
Hayden puts his hand on my shoulder, giving me a firm squeeze. “You did good.”
I nod, although I’m skeptical about it.
I went against Nixon’s wishes. It’s the right thing to do, I’m sure of it, although I’m not certain he’ll see it that way, but I’ll deal with that fallout later.
“Where is the study?”
“Down the hallway, last door on the right.”
Hayden nods and heads that way, Zane and Maddox at his heels.
Callie leans her head on my shoulder as we watch the boys disappear down the hallway.
“How are you doing?” she asks softly.
“My mom isn’t the one who died.”
“Yasmin…”
“Terrible,” I concede, relaxing against her. “She was so young, so full of life. It’s not fair.”
“A lot of things in life aren’t.”
If anybody knows that all too well, it’s definitely Callie.
Chapter Thirty-Four
NIXON
“Are you angry with me?”
A hand touches my shoulder, startling me from my thoughts.
I lift my head, meeting Yasmin’s eyes in the reflection in the mirror. She’s wearing a simple black dress with long sleeves, her hair pulled back in a bun, just a bare hint of makeup on her face.
Even now, she looks so beautiful it almost hurts to look at her. My ray of sunshine, pulling me through all of this darkness.
I close my eyes, a stab of guilt piercing my heart.
Mom’s been gone three days, and the pain is as raw as it was that night when we watched her take her last breath. And while I’m devastated that she’s gone, devastated I’ll never hear her voice or see her smile again, a part of me is relieved. Happy even. Because she’s finally free. Free of all the hurt, all the pain and suffering.
Blinking the memory away, I concentrate on here and now. I pull at the knot of my tie, fixing it with more force than necessary. “Why would I be?”
Instead of pulling back, Yasmin forces me to turn around and face her. “I know you didn’t want to tell your friends and I called them regardless.”
“No, it’s…” Sighing, I let my hands fall to my sides. “It’s fine. I’m glad they’re here.”
I was surprised when they barged into the study just as I was finishing the final arrangements. As it turns out, there wasn’t that much to do. Apparently, when Mom found out the cancer was terminal, she made the arrangements on her own before she got too bad to be able to do so. I wasn’t sure if I wanted to be pissed off at her or relieved; I guess I was a little bit of both. But before I could think too much about it and fall further down the rabbit hole, the guys showed up. Their grim faces told me they knew what had happened.
One by one, they filled the room. Hayden went straight for the mini-bar, taking the most expensive bottle of whiskey in my dad’s arsenal and unclasping it. He didn’t even bother with glasses, just took a swig from the bottle, and silently offered it to me. So we sat and drank, nobody saying anything. It was exactly what I needed at that moment, and I didn’t realize it until I saw them.
“Are you sure?” she asks, not looking at me. Shaking her head, she undoes my tie and reties it with a calm efficiency that is so like her.
“Positive.” I try to offer her a smile, but it comes out twisted. “Where did you learn to do that?”