His Sugar Baby(33)
Michael frowned. Not that I’m not already in control. He was always in control. Of himself, his emotions. The situation. He just wasn’t bored yet. That was all it was.
He caught sight of himself in the floor-to-ceiling mirror and saw how impressively his gym shorts were tented. Son of a bitch! Like he needed to advertise his frustrations to the whole world.
He tucked the end of the damp towel into his waistband so that the towel draped over the front of his sports shorts. He hoped that the bulk of the terry towel would help disguise his condition until he could make his way to the showers. Michael growled. That was another thing. He was taking a hell of a lot more cold showers lately. It was a wonder that he hadn’t developed permanent hypothermia.
“Hey, Mike. I hope that boner isn’t for me. You know that I’m straight, man.”
Without looking around, Michael gave his friend a one-fingered salute. Darryl’s deep, rich laughter followed him as he stomped off.
Yeah, it was definitely time to call Winter again.
Cathy was having lunch with her best friend. She and Vicky tried to get together at least once a week. Cathy had canceled more times than she liked to think about. It was difficult meshing their work schedules since Cathy spent every second of her free time at the hospital. Her time was even tighter now because of her arrangement with Michael.
However, this week Cathy had made a determined effort not to stand Vicky up again. She badly needed bonding time with one of her girlfriends. She needed the unconditional sympathy and support. She also needed to vent some of her exacerbated feelings. She would not say anything about Michael, of course. She couldn’t do that without revealing more than she wanted about their relationship. However, in light of what Chloe’s oncologist had told her, the ex-husband was definitely fair game. So she told Vicky about her abortive phone call.
Her companion’s brown eyes glittered hotly. “Rick said that? That he didn’t want to be bothered about seeing if he was a match for Chloe? What an A-hole!” She set down her glass on the table with unnecessary force, slopping the soda.
Cathy pushed back a lock of her unruly curls. That morning she had clipped her hair at the nape of her neck, but spiraling tendrils had sprung free to curl around her face. She shook her head. Old anger and helplessness burned inside her. “I know. I couldn’t believe it. He just—just doesn’t care, Vicky.”
“I know you told me that he never wanted Chloe and that you had to go to court to make him pay child support. But this is just plain evil!” Vicky caught herself up. She took a deep, calming breath, and looked over at her friend with worry. “What are you going to do?”
“Oh, what I do best—hope and pray,” said Cathy with a short laugh. “The oncologist tells me that there is a good chance that they’ll find another donor, even if it’s not a blood relative. I’ve called my sister. She is going to be tested and have the results sent here as soon as possible. But even if she is a match, she lives so far away that—God, I just wish I was compatible!”
Vicky reached out to squeeze her hand. “I thought you looked even more stressed than normal. You’re so pale. Now I can see why. Cathy, if you want, I’ll go down this afternoon and get tested to see if I’m a match.”
Cathy felt her throat tighten. She turned her hand under her friend’s fingers and squeezed back. “Thanks, Vicky. You’re the best.”
Vicky nodded. She sat back in her chair. Her square chin firmed with determination, and her eyes flashed with zeal. “And what’s more, I’m going to let everyone else know what’s going on. I’ll put the call out on the web page as soon as possible. I’m sure that will get a few other people to volunteer to be tested, too. We’ll put out a new appeal for donations, as well.”
Cathy nodded, even as she felt herself tensing as Vicky enthusiastically began to toss out ideas. She was grateful for Vicky’s partisanship, truly she was. But the old familiar crushing weight of an anxiety attack was bearing down on her lungs. She should have known that Vicky would bring up the website and all of the rest of it. Just once, just once, she wished that she could confide in her best friend and not have it turn into a major mandate for action. Vicky’s efforts to get the word out were effective, particularly at work. She would have to show a big brave front while people asked questions and expressed renewed sympathy.
She forced herself to deepen the sudden shallowness of her breathing, to will away the pain in her chest and the guilt in her heart. Yet her thoughts barreled on. She was aware—of course she was!—of how essential it was that word of Chloe’s most pressing need be gotten out. She could only be grateful that Vicky was willing to put in the considerable personal time it took to spearhead publicity. Cathy recognized that she could not have done half as much.
At the same time, there would be more pity, more furtive glances thrown her way. As though she was a freak in a sideshow. Or the star of a stupid reality show! And she would have to be calm and brave and strong and all those things that she knew she wasn’t really. She could never let anyone see that she was always just a hairsbreadth away from screaming and screaming.
If only Rick had agreed, it might have been avoided. Just this once.
Just once she maybe could have drawn breath like a normal person and not felt like a malevolent boa constrictor had her in its coils, slowly squeezing—squeezing—