The Other Woman's Son

Not if Darcy could help it. She’d learned from experience that her mother had an even harder time watching Darcy go through dialysis than Darcy did experiencing it.

“I don’t need both you and Kenny there. Honest,” Darcy said. “I already had to get special permission for Kenny. The people at the center would flip if I tried to bring both of you into dialysis.”

Her mother shifted her weight from one foot to the other, and Darcy absently noticed her tennis shoes featured pink Nike swooshes. “Are you sure?”

“Definitely.” Darcy boosted the corners of her mouth higher. “I’d hate for you to miss your Tuesday tennis match because of me, especially because you’re looking so good.”

“In this old thing?” Her mother swept a hand over the hot pink lycra top she’d paired with a navy blue and pink skirt that showed off her excellent figure. She’d tied her shoulder-length blond hair in a ponytail that showed off the pretty face she pampered with skin-care products. “I’m dying to get a new outfit but so far I’ve resisted.”

“That one looks great.” Darcy hoped it had finally gotten through to her mother that the household cash flow had died with Darcy’s father. They could still afford the house and Darcy’s college tuition, but not much else. Certainly not a country club membership. Her mother was going as a guest.

“I suppose I should head out then.” Her mother’s reluctance showed through in every word.

“Have fun.”

“I’ll try. But I’ll be thinking about you every single minute.” She kissed Darcy on the cheek, the light scent of her perfume lingering even after she left the house.

Darcy didn’t allow her face to relax until the engine of the Jaguar her father had paid off before he died roared to life. She blew out a breath and massaged the muscles that had held up her smile.

Constantly reassuring her mother and brother that everything would be okay could be exhausting. Kenny, at least, didn’t hover. They hadn’t seen each other since she’d filled him in on her situation Friday night.

He’d gone through with plans to leave Saturday morning with some college buddies for a three-day canoeing trip. She hadn’t dreamed of asking him to cancel but wouldn’t have minded a phone call to see how she was doing.

Shoving the thought aside, she moved over the terrazzo floors through the house that her mother had hired a top interior designer to decorate in a southwestern motif. Fabric-covered sofas, leather accent chairs and throw rugs artfully scattered on the floor reflected the red, tan and brown colors of the desert. Original landscapes by local artists hung from the walls but the most stunning view was that of the Mississippi River through the bank of large windows lining the back side of the house.

The home sat along a mile-long sidewalk situated on a bluff above a gently curving street running along the mighty river, but it was reachable by car only from the front side.

The window above the hammered copper sink in the kitchen afforded a view of the road. Darcy poured herself a half glass of ice water from the dispenser in the refrigerator door, then sipped it while she watched for Kenny Coleman’s Mustang. Since dialysis patients had to limit their fluid intake, the cool water sliding down her throat felt like a luxury.

She tried to mentally talk herself out of being disappointed that Kenny hadn’t called. Instead, she’d think about how his presence would help her avoid worrying about the future while she was hooked up to the dialysis machine.

Fifteen minutes after he was supposed to arrive, Kenny’s red Mustang convertible finally swung into the driveway. Even from inside the house, Darcy could hear rock music blaring from the car stereo.

She gathered up her backpack and went quickly out the door, striving to convey an eagerness to get the treatment over with. She was loath to let anyone, even Kenny, know how much she dreaded it.

He met her halfway up the driveway, looking like a college coed’s dream in sunglasses, khaki shorts, a University of Tennessee T-shirt and flip-flops. The sun had kissed the ends of his brown hair, and his tanned skin glowed with health and vitality.

“Hey, gorgeous.”

That was Kenny, Darcy thought. The king of charm, able to sound sincere even though Darcy realized she’d probably never looked worse.

“Hey, Kenny.”

He leaned down to close the eight-inch gap in their heights and kissed her on the mouth, the contact brief and almost chaste. She got a whiff of a peppermint breath mint before he took the backpack dangling from her hand. “Ready to go?”

She summoned her smile. “Ready as I’ll ever be.”

He opened the passenger door, dumping the backpack in the backseat before stepping aside to let her in and closing the door. Like a true gentleman. That had been one of the things that attracted her to him in the first place.

They’d met at the University of Tennessee after she brushed too close to a display of texts at the campus bookstore. The stack had toppled, raining tomes onto the floor. Kenny helped her pick them up, making her laugh by apologizing for not noticing disaster was imminent. He’d carried her purchases to the cash register, claiming the only thing he’d accept as thanks was a date. They’d been together ever since.

A bonus in dating Kenny was that he lived not even ten miles away, which would enable them to see each other as often as they liked now that the spring semester was over.

“How’d the canoe trip go?” she asked after he slowed the Mustang to a crawl to give a sanitation truck room to pass on the narrow road.

“It was a blast.” He turned the radio down slightly. “You’ve met Harv, right? Tall, skinny guy with long sideburns and a soul patch. He told us he’d been on the river plenty of times. First thing he does is steer the damn thing straight into a huge rock. We hit so hard, I fell off my seat.

“Then he hangs us up on some smaller rocks and has the bright idea to get out of the canoe to jostle us loose. So me and the canoe are drifting downstream and Harv’s swimming as fast as he can behind to catch up. Jake and B.B. were laughing so hard they couldn’t row.”

Kenny kept up a lively commentary the entire drive to the transplant center, which featured its own dialysis facilities. He didn’t seem to notice Darcy had to make an effort to laugh. She was almost glad when they pulled up to the center, because she didn’t think she could fake it much longer.

Bypassing the parking lot, he pulled up to the horseshoe-shaped curb in front of the building and put the Mustang into Park. Darcy’s muscles froze, rebelling at the prospect of walking into the building alone.

“You don’t have to let me off here.” She kept her voice light. “From what I remember, everybody’s pretty understanding if you show up a few minutes past appointment time. So I can walk with you from the parking lot.”

“About that…” His voice trailed off, then started up again. “B.B’s starting his new job Wednesday. He didn’t get a chance to move his stuff into his new apartment yet because of the canoe trip. So I kind of told him I’d help him. You don’t mind, do you?”

Her throat constricted, preventing speech. She managed to move her head, but she wasn’t sure in what direction.

“Didn’t think you would.” His voice got louder, more cheerful. “It’s not like I can do anything when you’re on that machine but sit there.”

His dark sunglasses rendered it impossible for her to read his eyes and figure out how he’d arrived at that stunningly bad conclusion.

“But—” she began.

“So what time should I pick you up?” He tapped the clock on the dashboard, which showed a few minutes past ten o’clock. “How about one-thirty? If that’s not good, call me on my cell.”

She nodded wordlessly and got stiffly out of the car, as though she were a robot somebody had programmed to move. She barely acknowledged the short beep of the horn as he drove away.

Her lower lip trembled so much that she caught it with her upper teeth to still it. She’d counted on Kenny to help get her through this first treatment, but now she had to face it alone.

She put one foot in front of the other, drawing inexorably closer to the center. A handsome older man who looked like Kenny might in twenty years opened the door for her. She tried to smile when she stated her thanks, but couldn’t.

The faint smell of antiseptic that she associated with the center hit her like a blast from a fan when she stepped into the lobby. Her steps slowed. She couldn’t do this. Not by herself.

She blindly whirled back toward the exit, nearly plowing into a tall, solidly built man. He reached out his arms, placing them on her shoulders to steady her.

“You all right, Darcy?”

She blinked until the moisture that had started to gather in her eyes cleared and the man’s face came into view. Clay, her brother, a deep V of concern drawing his dark brows together.

“What are you doing here?” she blurted out.

“What kind of question is that to ask your big brother? I’m here to keep you company.” The smile he wore looked even less genuine than the ones she usually pasted on. His gaze flickered over the lobby. “Where’s Mom?”

“You know how she gets in places like this. I convinced her not to come because Kenny would be with me.”

“Then where’s Kenny?”