The Drake Unwound Complete Collection (The Drake Series Book 9)(37)

"Of course." Kate smiled up at me while I bent down and kissed her once more, this time on the mouth.

I left the restaurant, threading through the tables and lines of eager patrons.





CHAPTER THREE





I met with Ben Stanford who would be taking over my caseload at NYP and we discussed each case and the plans for treatment. Then I sat alone in my office and thought about my son.

My brother Liam died before I was born. In fact, I was conceived as a way to help my mother overcome her depression following Liam's death. After Liam's long battle with the same kind of leukemia that my son now had, my mother wasn’t able to recover. She was probably still in a full-fledged depression when I was born, for I was told that she never did bond with me. Instead, she would often sit and let me cry while she smoked cigarettes and watched soap operas all alone in their apartment while my father pursued his busy career.

My father either didn’t recognize her deepening depression and neglect of me or didn’t know how to deal with it. As a trauma surgeon, he was used to fixing broken bodies, but not broken minds. I felt as if I never really had a father—not in the same way Kate did. I knew that Chris was a good parent but there was still a part of me that wanted Liam to know who I was. Who his grandfather was. I wanted to look through my father’s boxes for a picture of him receiving his medal. That would be something my son could appreciate one day when he was a grown man.

I sat and tried to close out some patient files and finish some other hospital related business, but as I did, my gut was in turmoil and a darkness descended over me. I felt a need to get drunk and not give a f*ck for a while.

I picked up my cell and sent Kate a text.



I know you were probably hoping we'd do our scene tonight, but frankly, I'm not really up to it. I thought a quiet evening at 8th Avenue would be in order. I want to go through my father's things. There's something I want to get for Liam, just in case… Maureen might not agree to it, but I'll try anyway. I think Liam should at least have something from his namesake.



She texted me back, agreeing without protest.



I left the hospital and drove to the 8th Avenue apartment, eager to get home and relax after a long day in meetings. As often seemed to be the case, I was there before Kate so I changed out of my suit into jeans and a white linen shirt, ready to be comfortable. I put on a selection of old music that my father used to play when I was growing up and poured two shots of Anisovaya.

Kate arrived some time later, while I was in the kitchen.

"There you are," I said and met her at the door. I took her coat and hung it up in the closet. I hugged her once she had her boots off, and we swayed a bit in each other’s arms.

"This is an oldie," she said, tilting her head as she listened to my selection of music for the evening. "One of your dad's?"


I nodded and let her out of my arms to go search through the albums that were lined up in a shelf on the wall. I pulled out the original cover from my father’s vinyl collection. The Mammas and the Pappas, with the artists sitting together fully dressed in a bathtub.

"Appropriate, given we're in the middle of a storm in New York," I said as “California Dreaming” played over the sound system. "John Philips wrote the song in 1962 during a New York snow storm. I love New York, but wait until you see Kenya. It's so beautiful in places and the weather is always warm."

"You sure you still want to go in March?"

I shook my head, uncertain what would happen. "We'll stay here for a few weeks until I can see if the transplant takes. Maureen doesn't want me involved, so I'd have nothing to do but sit around moping, waiting for news. If we go to Kenya, I'll be busy teaching and doing surgery. There's nothing I can do here anyway and I could always fly back if anything happened with Liam."

I put the album down and went to the sideboard where I had a couple of shots of Anisovaya waiting.

"Here," I said, handing one to Kate. "I need this. I think I want to get drunk tonight. What do you say?"

She smiled. "Sounds perfect. We can be hung over tomorrow. I have nothing planned besides working on my canvas. I can do that hung over."

"Me neither. Za vas!" I held up my shot.

"Za vas," she replied.

Together, we shot back the vodka. Then I pulled her back into my arms and kissed her, wanting to catch the taste of the Anisovaya on her tongue. She responded, wrapping her arms around my neck and her legs around my waist as I lifted her up. We remained like that for a moment and then I let her slide down my body.

"First," I said, brushing hair off her cheek. "I thought we'd make a nice light dinner after that mountainous sandwich at lunch. Then, we can talk about our plans and get sloshed."

"Sloshed?"

I grinned. "My father's term for floor-licking pissed."

"I like it," she said and leaned against me. "I don't know if I intend to lick any floors though…"

I laughed at that and embraced her more tightly, breathing in her perfumed hair.

"Sweet Ms. Bennet. What would I do without you?"

"I don't even want to think about us not being together," she said softly.

The song ended and one of my favorite Lennon and McCartney songs came on.