I’d heard Marissa saying she was going to get started on making some healthy foods that might make Pixie feel better, but Doe hadn’t wanted to show up empty-handed. She’d spent nearly an hour in the grocery store trying to find all the things her mother had listed off for her, comparing the nutrition values of each option, worrying over if my sister might think she was trying too hard.
“Remember, we’re not talking about me being the one donating the bone marrow,” she whispered. “I don’t want to put any pressure on her to like me. If she knows now, she might feel like she has to, and I don’t want that.”
“Whatever you want, little lamb,” I assured her as we passed the nurses station and made the turn that would take us directly to Pixie’s room. One of the nurses I remembered from the day before saw me and gave a nod.
Outside all of the rooms were shelves stocked with masks and disposable covers that we put over our clothes, along with hand sanitizer. I helped Doe suit up before doing so myself and knocking on the door. A weak voice called out and my stomach twisted, but I put a smile on my face as we stepped into the room.
Pixie’s bed was close to the window, with the blinds open as she looked out at the parking lot. That side was for the staff, so I knew she hadn’t seen us come in, but she was looking down at all the vehicles as if she was trying to find someone. Her attention was so focused on it, she didn’t even notice that I had arrived or that I wasn’t alone.
While she was distracted, I took a moment to take all of her in. She had on one of her wool turbans over her bald head. She was dressed in a pair of her favorite pajamas, a button-up navy-blue top and matching pants. Thick wool socks covered her feet, and she had a shawl wrapped around her shoulders, but her blanket had been kicked to the end of the bed. A blue plastic sick bag was in her lap, which told me she was nauseated.
“Pix?” I murmured quietly, so as not to startle her.
She turned her head, her lips pressing into a hard line as if she was frustrated about something. When her gaze landed on me, her expression eased somewhat. Then she spotted Doe and gasped.
“H-hi,” she greeted, grabbing the sick bag and hiding it under her legs.
“Hi, Pixie,” Doe said softly. “Um, I’m really sorry about this morning.”
“Me too,” Pixie told her with a small, nervous smile. “I blame Jenner. He should have told us both.”
“I take full responsibility. I was a dumbass, but I learned my lesson, sis. Honest.” I tugged Doe closer, and she shifted the bag in her hand, catching my sister’s attention.
“This is for you,” Doe told her as she placed the bag on the bed. “My mom went through this same thing when she was sixteen. She said these were the best snacks when you have a queasy stomach and everything tastes all wonky.”
Pixie’s eyes got huge. “Your mom? So you’re adopted?”
“No,” Doe said with a frown at her.
“Then how is it possible that you’re here?” she asked, her brows pulled together in confusion. “They told me the chemo would…destroy all chances of having a biological baby.”
“Oh, that.” Doe dropped onto the edge of the chair near the bed and adjusted her mask when one ear came undone. “It was really controversial back then. I mean, who freezes the eggs of a sixteen-year-old girl, right? But my uncle wanted my mom to have the chance of being a mother if she decided she wanted to later down the road. He had to search a little to find a fertility clinic that was willing to do it for someone so young. When my parents finally decided to have kids, they defrosted my brothers and me and mixed in Dad’s mojo.” She shrugged. “And that’s the story of how Wroth and Marissa Niall became the first rocker family of quads.”
“Whoa,” Pixie muttered. “That’s got to be wild. You must be just as famous as your dad.”
“I guess. I mean, my brothers are considered the golden three. Baseball legends already. The sexy sons of the beastly OtherWorld guitarist.” She shrugged. “Then there’s me. The weirdo.”
My gaze snapped to Doe. Even with the mask on, I could tell she was smiling, but it didn’t reach her eyes. There was something flickering in those beautiful blue orbs that told me she was hiding a deep-seated pain. I clenched my hands into fists. I would find out who had hurt my little lamb, and when I did, nothing and no one could save their pathetic asses.
“What?” Pixie gasped, her eyes filling with a look I knew all too well. She was going into big-sister mode, ready to eviscerate anyone who dared to hurt her new little sister. Fuck, it did something crazy to my chest knowing that Pixie was already accepting my little lamb into our family. “People are mean to you?”
Shaking her head, Doe changed the subject. “How are you feeling?”
“The nausea is the worst and I’ve got a headache going on right now, but I’m used to it all at this point.” Pixie waved her hand toward the door. “The nurse will be in with my meds soon, so I’ll probably pass out before too long.”
“I’m so sorry we had to meet like this,” Doe said with regret. “Is there anything you need? Just say the word, and I can bring you whatever you want. I don’t want you to worry about anything but getting better.”
Pixie shook her head with a sad smile. “I’ve got everything I could possibly need or want at the moment. But maybe when I run out of clean underwear you can bring me some so Jenner doesn’t embarrass himself.”
A musical laugh left my little lamb. “Absolutely.”
There was a firm tap on the door, and moments later, Dr. Contreras walked in, the same protective gear Doe and I both wore covering his clothes. “Pixie, have you eaten…?” He stopped when he saw me standing by her bed and stood up a little straighter. “Jenner, good to see you.”
“Doctor,” I nodded.
“I had a little breakfast,” Pixie informed him, but she didn’t look at him when she spoke. Her eyes went to the wall over his shoulder, avoiding his gaze. “And my new sister brought me some snacks.”
She started shifting around the contents of the bag, seeming relieved to have something to do other than look at the physician. “Oh…” she said with surprise in her voice. “This actually sounds yummy. I haven’t thought much about fruit cocktails since I was a kid. I always liked the little cherries in them. They never put enough in there in my opinion.”
“Mom said she lived off them right before and after her marrow transplant.”
Pixie pulled out a few crackers and started nibbling on them while Doe told her a few other things that might taste good to her and be gentle on her stomach, according to Marissa. Any time Doe paused to glance at the doctor, Pixie was quick to ask another question or shift the conversation. Anything, it seemed, so she could ignore the man’s presence.
“The nurse will be in with your meds shortly,” Dr. Contreras interrupted as he closed the chart after scribbling something. “Do you have any questions or concerns today, Pixie?”
When she finally looked up at him, her eyes were full of hope. “Did you hear back from the donor? You said she’s local, right?”
The doctor turned away from Pixie to look at Doe, his brows pulling together. It was obvious he recognized her even under the medical mask. But when he caught her gaze, she gave him a quick shake of her head, her eyes pleading with him not to say anything.