Sweet Love (The Sweet Series Book 1) (4 page)

“I told you she had errands to run in the city. And since when do you hate being here so much? I’d expect this from your sister, not you.” I glance over at Hope to see her lying on one of the weight benches with her fluffy feather pen and pink notebook she writes all her pie creations in.

“Well today I feel like being with Mom.”

It’s obvious he’s still pissed at me for the argument I got in with Grace the other morning. “Lose the attitude, kid, or it’s going to make for a long night.”

He does the opposite of what I say and glares up at me. “I’ll stop when you’re not making Mom cry anymore.”

I tense. “What are you talking about?”

“She was crying early this morning when she thought we were all sleeping. I heard her when I got up and went to the bathroom.”

Well shit. I heard her get up early too, but I just thought it was because she was still mad and didn’t want to wake up next to me. I fucking hate that we’re still not talking, but that shit stops tonight. Three days is enough. I need my Cupcake back and happy.

Kneeling down in front of him, I put a hand on his shoulder. “Listen, Parker, I know things have been tense around the house these past few days and I’m sorry, but I’ll fix it, okay?”

“Don’t yell at her like that again. No one does that to her, including you.”

If the kid wasn’t sticking up for his mother right now, I’d put the mouthy little shit in his place.

However, he has a point.

“I wasn’t yelling at her. I was just…yelling,” I explain, not making the situation better. “We had a disagreement, it happens, but I’ll make it right.”

“Okay.”

“We good?”

He nods, his body more relaxed. “Yeah, we’re good.”

“Come here, kid.” I pull him in for a hug. “I love you and I’m proud of you for sticking up for your mom, but I promise you don’t need to with me.”

“I love you too, Dad.”

“Give me a few minutes and we’re out of here,” I say, releasing him.

“Okay.” He goes back to hitting the bag, this time not so angry.

“Hey, Daddy?” Hope yells from across the gym, as I’m about to make my way to the locker room.

“Yeah, Shortcake, what’s up?”

“What do you like better, white chocolate or milk chocolate?”

“Milk chocolate.”

“Okay. How do you spell that?”

With a smirk I spell it out for her and it takes her a while before she has it written down.

“Your turn, Uncle Jax. What do you like better, blueberries or strawberries?”

Jaxson looks over at her from his station where he spots one of the fighters. “Blueberries.”

“Okay, great! How do you spell that?”

As Jaxson spells it out for her, I go grab my bag from my locker. When I’m walking out, Cade is spelling marshmallows, which I’m assuming was his pick.

“Your turn, Mr. Sarge. Which you like better, whippin’ cream or butterscotch?”

Sarge stops what he’s doing in the ring and looks over at her. “Definitely whipping cream, little lady. Especially if it comes with my woman,” he adds with a wink.

Good thing Logan isn’t here right now to hear that. He’s still getting used to his mom and Sarge dating.

“Sorry, but I don’t think your woman is gonna wanna be put in the oven,” she says with a giggle. “Now, how do you spell whippin’ cream?”

I’m the one to spell it out for her.

“I can’t wait to show this one to Mama. It’s gonna be amazin’,” she says, closing up her book.

“What are you making?” Jaxson asks.

“I’m makin’, y’all a special pie. It’s gonna be called Hero Pie, because y’all are heroes and I’m puttin’ your favorites in it.”

Yep, there’s no girl like my Shortcake. Except my Cupcake, who I plan to make things right with so we can get back to how things were before that bastard showed up.

Grace

“T
hank you for coming in, Grace. It’s appreciated that you’re willing to see if you can even be an option for Lucy. Time is definitely of the essence right now,” Dr. Schaefer says.

“You’re welcome.” I fidget nervously with the bottom edge of my dress, trying to calm my anxious heart.

“I know this is a big decision, which is why it’s important I explain everything to you in detail. Let’s start with Lucy’s condition. As you were told, she suffered a severe bacterial infection that entered her bloodstream and it attacked her kidneys. When someone has kidney failure, deterioration usually occurs over time. However septicemia, which is what Lucy had, attacks your organs quickly. Although we were able to stop the infection, it still left her very ill and it destroyed her kidneys beyond repair. Dialysis can already be very grueling and with Lucy being as sick as she is, it’s making her sicker. This is not a long-term solution for her, which is why she is in desperate need of this transplant.”

All this information has my heart breaking for the young girl.

“This is where you come in. Even though you have the same blood type as Lucy there are still many other things we must factor in. First we will do some blood work; we run three main tests that type and crossmatch,” she says, losing me already, but I still listen intently to her explanations. “I’m also going to do an ultrasound today to measure your kidneys. That way, if all does come back a match, it’s one less thing to check off since time is of importance right now.”

“How long will it take to find out if I’m a match or not?”

“Usually it can take weeks; however, as I said, time is delicate right now so I’ve ordered it stat. I’m pushing to have the results back no later than a week.”

A week…a week to possibly make one of the biggest decisions of my life.

“If you are a match there are a few things you need to consider before making your decision. This is a procedure we do often, but there can still be complications. And with you sharing the same rare blood type as Lucy, you have to understand the risk you’re taking if something ever happens and you’re in need of another kidney.”

I nod. “Yes, I’ve thought about that.”

“It’s also important for you to know that there is a possibility Lucy’s body could reject your kidney, despite potentially being a match.”

“What?” I ask, appalled at the thought. “So after all this it may not even save her life?”

“That’s correct.”

“No offense, Doctor, but the more we talk, the less I feel like this is something I should even be considerin’.”

Her expression softens. “I understand your concern. Keep in mind I’m starting with the worst possible scenario because it’s important you know the risks when making your decision. However, with all that being said, it is also very probable that this could work out for everyone. Lucy could have the kidney she needs, and both of you could live very long, healthy lives with no complications. This is our ultimate goal and we’ll do everything in our power to make that happen.”

That’s still a lot of
ifs.

“But we can cross that bridge when we come to it. In the meantime, let’s perform the tests to see if you’re even a match for Lucy.”

I nod, having a hard time finding words at the moment. With a smile that I’m sure is supposed to reassure me, she stands and leads us out of her office.

Two hours later, I’m headed down the hall with a cup of juice in my hand, ready to go home. As I pass the hospital’s gift shop I see my father and Barbara off to the side, looking like they’re arguin’ about something. I look around for another way out but Barbara ends up spotting me.

“Grace.” Leaving her spot in front of my father, she rushes over and wraps me in a hug. “Dr. Schaefer said you were here. Thank you for coming in so quickly. Did everything go all right with your tests?”

I look away from my father who is watching us awkwardly and hug her back, feeling uncomfortable but don’t want to be rude. “I think they did.”

She pulls back, grasping my shoulders with a sad smile. “Good. I’m glad to hear that.”

My father chooses that moment to come over. “Grace, thank you for coming.”

My response is a simple nod.

“Are you here alone?” Barbara asks.

“Yeah, my husband is with my children,” I say, not wanting to tell them Sawyer has no idea I’m here. The thought has guilt twisting in my tummy. “Actually, I was just on my way out to—”

“Would you like to meet her?”

I tense at the question, my pulse thrumming nervously at the thought. “Does she even know about me?”

She nods. “Yes, both she and Piper do.”

Can I do this? Do I want to? What if I can’t go through with it? It would make it so much harder to say no…

“Barbara, leave her be,” my father says, not giving me a chance to respond. I have no idea if it’s because he doesn’t want me put on the spot or he doesn’t want me to meet her. My guess is the latter and I try not to let that sting.

“It’s okay, honey, you don’t have to, I understand,” she says, doing her best to keep a smile in place, but guilt still plagues me.

“I’ll meet her,” I blurt out, surprising myself. “I mean, if she wants to meet me, that is.”

Her smile becomes more genuine. “I know she’d love it. Come on.” Moving her arm around me, she walks us to the elevator and hits the button for the third floor.

Things are silent and awkward, mainly because of my father. It’s hard for me to be around him. Making this decision will have nothing to do with him and everything to do with a young girl who I’ve never even met.

At the ding of our arrival we step out into the ICU, and I’m brought over to a sink to wash my hands. My heart hammers in my chest the moment Barbara grasps the door handle.

“I’ll wait out here,” my father says, making me a little less anxious. I’d rather he not be in there, too. This is hard enough as it is.

Barbara obviously agrees, giving him a tight nod. With a soft knock she slowly opens the door and enters. “Hey, I have someone here for you girls to meet.” She turns around to see me still standing by the door, frozen to my spot. “Come on, honey. It’s all right.” Putting a hand on my back she leads me in. “Girls, I’d like you to meet Grace Evans.”

My eyes lock on the girl sitting next to the hospital bed first.

“Grace, this is Piper.” Barbara introduces her.

Piper stands, her eyes wide as she takes me in. She’s tall and slender with blonde hair and dark blue eyes. She offers me a kind yet sad smile. “Hi, Grace. It’s nice to meet you.”

“Hi, Piper, nice to meet you, too.” I reach out and shake her hand.

“Well, if it isn’t our long-lost sister we didn’t know about, and look, Pipe, she’s prettier than the both of us. Guess we know who got all the looks in the family.” At the teasing yet frail voice my eyes dart to the girl I’ve been avoiding looking at, and my heart plummets at the sight of her.

She’s beautiful like her picture but looks nothing like the vibrant girl I saw in the photo. Her skin is pale, her light blue eyes duller, and her cheeks sunken in. Yet as weak as she looks, her smile is strong and the most genuine out of anyone in the room. It makes me want to break down on the spot.

Piper hushes her, nudging her arm.

“And this comedian is Lucy.” Barbara introduces the young girl, her voice soft and filled with affection. “Don’t mind her, she always has something amusing to say.”

I offer her the best smile I can muster. “Hi, Lucy, it’s nice to meet you.”

“Same here, thanks for coming,” she says, taking a more serious tone.

I nod, my throat feeling awfully tight.

“Piper, honey, why don’t we give Grace and Lucy some time to talk.”

Instinct has me instantly wanting to object, but I don’t. Mainly because after meeting Lucy, I do want to get to know her.

Barbara touches my arm. “We’ll wait for you outside. Take your time,” she says before both her and Piper leave the room.

At the click of the door I point to the chair next to the bed. “Mind if I sit down?”

“Of course not.”

I take a seat next to her and try to think of something to say. “So I heard you cheer.”

“Yeah, I’m captain of my squad…or was. I love it.”

“Me, too. I used to cheerlead back in high school.”

“Really?”

I nod.

“That’s cool. Mama told me you own a bakery.”

I smile. “I do. It was a dream of mine from the time I was a little girl. My husband bought it for me for our first Christmas together.” Warmth invades my chest at the memory.

“Wow. That’s some Christmas gift.”

“It is,” I agree with a chuckle.

“What kind of things do you bake?”

“Everything but mainly pies, those are my specialty. Breakfast pies, lunch pies, supper pies, dessert pies.”

“That’s a lot of different pies,” she says, making me smile. “How many recipes do you have?”

I’m not sure if she’s just trying to keep the conversation going but she does seem genuinely interested so I tell her all about them, right from when Mama and I first began to create together. “Some of the best recipes were by her, but most are from myself, with the help of my little girl,” I add, my voice soft with affection.

She smiles. “Mama said you have twins.”

“I do.”

“Tell me about them,” she whispers, exhaustion suddenly evident in her low tone.

“They’re six. My son, Parker, is as brave and confident as his father, and my little girl, Hope, who’s named after my mother, is everythin’ I’ve always wanted in a daughter. She’s exactly like my mama and I used to be, and I treasure that.”

“Your mom passed away,” she says as a statement rather than a question.

I nod. “She did.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Thank you.”

Thankfully, she drops it. “Sounds like you have a wonderful family.”

“I do. They mean the world to me.”

She looks away as silence settles between us. I notice her hands fidgeting with the blanket nervously. “I know we’re just meeting for the first time and all but if you think about it, since we’re technically sisters, your kids are kind of my niece and nephew.”

Although this isn’t the first time I’ve thought about that, hearing her say it still strikes me deep, because they are the only blood relatives my kids have from my side. “That’s true.”

Her eyes find mine again, tears glistening in them, but her voice is strong. “You don’t have to do it, Grace. I know my parents are begging you, but you don’t have to.” Her breath hitches, the first of her tears falling, making my throat burn somethin’ fierce. “I’m not going to lie and say I’m not terrified to die, because I am. I’m so scared,” she whispers. “I’ve been trying to put on a brave face, especially for my family because I know this is killing them. But this isn’t your responsibility. You have a beautiful family and I wouldn’t blame you one bit for not wanting to risk that, especially after what my father has done. So please, don’t think you have to do this. My fate doesn’t rest in your hands. Whatever will be, will be. I’ll accept it and be okay.”