“You awake?” I asked.
There was no response. I tried again. “Sue?”
Julio entered the room. “She’s gone.”
The blood drained from my face. I did not have a good track record with my elderly best friends lately. “She died?”
“No. She was moved to a room.”
“Oh.” I actually gripped my chest in relief. “Jesus. You scared me. Did she leave anything for me?”
“Why would she leave anything for you?”
Good question. What exactly could she leave me, other than a parting medical diagnosis or another backstabbing story about my shitty family?
“No reason,” I said. “Hey, what’s her last name?”
“I can’t give you that information. It’s patient…”
“Confidentiality… Yeah, I know.”
Where was that discretion when the bat-eared next-door neighbor was getting her material for a tell-all exposé? Not that I was upset our paths had crossed. Like Albert, I was convinced Sue had been dropped into my life for a reason. It was like having two geriatric angels to guide me through my very own whacked-out version of It’s A Wonderful Life.
“I tell you what,” Julio said in the cheeky way of a dude with some game. “If I see her, I’ll tell her to call you.”
I laughed. “You do that.”
Is he here?
I could hear the shrieking bouncing off the sterile ICU walls. It was my mother and she sounded pissed.
Julio’s brows rose. He glanced at me, looking terrified.
I gave him a curt nod. “Welcome to my world, dude.”
21
RJ: Mommy Dearest
Sometimes the best approach was to go in full throttle. Take the opposition by surprise. So when my mother flung the white curtain aside like some C-list actress, I was ready to pounce.
“Oh, thank goodness,” she said, playing the doting mother role. “They said you were awake.”
She was met by my blank stare. “What did you do to Dani?”
My mother blinked. “Dani? I don’t know any Dani.”
“Sure you do. She’d be the one all up in your face demanding to see me.”
Her expression shifted and hardened.
“Where is she?”
“This is an ICU, RJ. Only family is allowed.”
“Says who?”
“The hospital.”
“Then let me speak to someone in charge. If they knew what she’s done for me, they’ll let her in.”
Mom was silent.
“Fine. I’ll ask Julio to contact management for me.”
“They won’t come.”
“I’m a freakin’ celebrity, Mom. Trust me, they’ll come.”
My mother looked down at her phone, appearing almost bored with my boastful declaration. “Maybe they would come if you called the shots, but you don’t, so they won’t.”
“What are you talking about? If I don’t call the shots, who does?”
“Remember way back when you were eighteen years old and heading off on your first AnyDayNow tour? The band handlers wanted all of you to assign someone medical power of attorney, just in case something were to happen on the road like a bus accident or something. Do you remember who you granted that power to?”
“No. But I’m assuming by that greedy look on you face that it was you.”
“That’s right.”
“So what? I’m an adult now.”
“Eighteen is an adult, RJ. You signed that legally binding document as an adult and never rescinded it. I still have medical power of attorney, and I say Dani can’t come in to see you. Period.”
My eyes narrowed in on her. “You really want to play this game with me?”
“It’s no game. I’m looking out for your best interest, and Dani is not it.”
“And you are? Renato is? Luis and Manny are?”
“That’s right, RJ. We’re your family. She’s not.”
“Uh-huh. Tell me… where are they?”
I saw the slightest flinch in her poker face. “They’re on their way.”
“It’s been three days. What’s the holdup? From what the doc said, it was touch and go there for a while. Weren’t they worried I’d be dead before they could get here?”
“What exactly are you asking me?”
“You know exactly what I’m asking. Why couldn’t my father and brothers be bothered to come when I was teetering on the edge? I mean, I do finance their existence, so it would seem to their benefit to make an appearance… unless, of course, they were waiting for me to die.”
“Stop being an arrogant jerk. They work and can’t just drop everything last minute to rush to your side.”
“They don’t work for pay!”
She glared at me. “Is it such a burden for you to provide for your family when you have millions to spare? How selfish are you?”
“That house you live in? I pay for it. That car you drive? Came from me. Hell, even your haircut came from my bankroll, so don’t you dare talk to me about being selfish.”
“And you always make us feel guilty, don’t you, RJ?”
“Maybe if you’d treated me like a human being growing up, I wouldn’t feel it was such a burden to support people who hate me.”
“We don’t hate you.”
“Really? How stupid do you think I am? Get out!”
She stood and stomped out of the room.
I called to her retreating frame. “And I want Dani in here by the end of the hour.”
---
Dani never showed, and now my mother and I were beyond rational conversation. We’d each picked our side, and it was all-out war. Even the doctors got involved, pleading with her to keep from agitating me in my fragile state, but it was no use. Just seeing her face was enough to raise my blood pressure. Had she conceded defeat, maybe, but since our argument, she’d doubled down on her authority, going so far as forbidding me from even accessing a phone to call a lawyer who could whip me up a new contract and get me out of this mess. I was literally a prisoner of my own stupidity. How could I not have foreseen a massive earthquake crushing me to an inch of my life the day I’d signed that contract as an eighteen-year-old idiot?
I needed help—someone who’d come to my rescue, like Bodhi or Hunter. Or a goddamn exorcist. Actually, never mind. None of those were powerful enough to take on Heather. What I really needed was someone like Tucker Beckett—who wasn’t actually Tucker Beckett. Because I hated that dude. Maybe I should rehire Roland Akers. Yeah, Roland. Now that guy was awesome; would do anything I asked. Although maybe that was the problem and partially why I’d ended up at the apartment in the first place. I needed someone to rein me in—tell me to slow down and confront me when I was wrong. That was not Roland Akers. As a Hollywood player, sure, he was one of the best, but he wasn’t right for this particular challenge. No way could Roland take on my mother and live to talk about it.
No, I needed a warrior, someone who’d come in with weapons raised, prepared to defend me with his life. Someone who could tie up every loose end, get me walking again, and maybe even get me back up on the stage where I’d always belonged.