The Unexpected Choice (2 page)

 

 

Sure enough, Joey showed up on her doorstep at exactly noon the next day. Since she'd never been kissed the way he'd kissed her the day before, Stacey had no idea how to act around him. Did she greet him with a smile? A hug? Another kiss?

Instead, she did none of those things. She called from the kitchen for him to come in, but in reality, she wished he'd go away. Joey wasn't the kind of guy she wanted to get involved with. In fact, she didn't want to get involved with anyone, period. She had things to look after and her grandfather to take care of. Why did everyone think it was such a waste of her time to take care of him?

Suddenly annoyed, Stacey turned at the sound of his heavy footsteps and wielded a spatula in his direction.

“Don't you come in here thinking you own the place today, Joey. You're forgetting I know all about you and how you play women. Your kiss was nothing but a distraction yesterday.”

“And it worked, right?” He held his hands up as if she pointed a gun at him instead of a greasy cooking utensil.

“Don't play games with me.” Her gaze narrowed on his innocent expression. “I'm no more your type than Papa's old LTD, so don't you think you're fooling anyone here.”

Joey lifted his shoulder in a careless shrug. “I admit it, you're not my type. At all.”

Stacey felt the heat in her cheeks and silently cursed. When would her body get the message she was an adult now? Turning back to the meat on the stove, she focused her energy on browning the meat instead of keeping Joey away. Her heart did a funny little jig in her chest when his strong arms wrapped around her and tried to take the spatula away.

She was no expert, but she was pretty sure the slow way he slid his palm down her arm was meant to turn her on.
At least, that's what they did on TV.
Jerking away, she shot him a glare, refusing to admit it worked.

“Get off me.”

“Stacey,” he whispered against her ear, causing her stomach muscles to clench. “Let me help you.”

“I'm perfectly capable of cooking.”

“I never said you weren't. That looks like some mean pasta, but I'm capable, too. And I want to help.”

Defeated and desperate to be rid of his closeness, she dropped the spatula on the spoon rest and spun away from him.

His chuckle followed her
,
and when she reached the door, she turned and stuck out her tongue at his back. He didn't see her, but she felt better anyway.

“I'll be getting Papa ready for lunch. Don't burn it.”

As she entered Papa's bedroom, she smelled the stale odor of sweat and turned instead to draw water in order to bathe him. His spirits always seemed lifted after he freshened up.

Last night had been long
with him coughing and Stacey helping him up and down to use the bathroom, which was becoming increasingly painful
for him
. She'd had to administer morphine at dawn so he could settle and get some rest. But sleep had never come for her.

She was no expert, but common sense told her he didn't have much longer. The rattle in his chest from congestive heart failure was worse, and the doctor hadn't been able to get it under control with medication. With the exception of the previous night, he was pretty much always sleeping.

Stacey knew she shouldn't fuss so much over him. After all, a man had his pride. But she simply couldn't let him go yet. He was all she had left
,
and maybe it made her selfish, but it just wasn't in her to let go so easily.

He slept through the entire bath, only muttering a few words. The morphine hadn't quite worn off yet, and she was grateful he slept so soundly. She let the tears fall freely as he slept. Every day it seemed his body grew more skeletal, more gaunt.
All of h
is ribs were prominent, and she could see the two gunshot wounds he'd gotten during
his stint in the army,
as well as the
pink puckered
scars from his exploratory surgery right before his cancer diagnosis.

It was times like these Stacey wanted to be angry with God. What had her grandfather done to deserve such an end? He'd protected his country, been a good husband and father, and chased away all of her nightmares since her parents had died. What purpose did God have in doing this?

But even as Stacey found her anger swelling, she tempered it, because anger would get her nowhere. God
did
have a purpose, and she believed that. She just failed to see it and wasn't sure she'd ever
would
. There was so much unfairness in the world, but she recognized there were others in more dire situations than she or Papa.

There's alwa
ys someone worse off than you
, her mother used to always tell her.

Stacey poured out the water in the bathroom sink and wiped the evidence of her tears away. She could still hear Joey in the kitchen fumbling around. Whatever he was doing didn't smell like what she'd started for dinner. Her mouth watered, but she refused to go in there, knowing he'd be able to see she'd been crying.

Instead, she returned to Papa's room and raised the window. The birds were singing their summer melodies, and there wasn't a cloud in the sky. Shade from the huge oak tree out back lined the window like a massive umbrella, taking away all the heat and leaving only a cool, rustling breeze. For a moment, Stacey inhaled and lifted a silent prayer to the heavens.

God, give me strength to get through this.

****

Joey wasn't sure how to go about executing his plans for Stacey. His mother had told him about her need to be grounded, to be pulled back into reality. But he knew her well enough to know she'd never leave her grandfather's side. Not until he was gone.

The surprising thing was, he
wanted
to help her. Joey wasn't so self-absorbed he couldn't admit he was selfish, sometimes to a fault, but this time, he found himself looking at Stacey and longing to see a trace of the pretty girl he'd grown up with.
Last night hadn't distracted her long enough.

All he saw now was a too-thin, jittery and hostile woman who got her dander up about everything. Stress could do that, he knew. College had put him and stress on a first name basis. But he didn't want to have to provoke her into anger just to see the light back in her eyes. The question was now, could he be the person she needed?

It wasn't a secret Stacey had a crush on him while they were growing up. Of course, he'd been pretty stupid back then and hadn't paid much attention to the way she drew hearts in the mud or seemed lost in thought when he sat next to her with his fishing rod. But one thing was certain; Stacey was going to be his, in every way possible. He'd do whatever it took to make her see that.

“What are you…?” Stacey demanded as she rounded the corner.

She'd been crying again. He took a deep breath to keep his protective instincts from kicking in.

“
Voila
,” he said with a smile. “I hope you like Italian.”

She didn't so much as glance at the food he'd cooked. “I thou
ght you were cooking what I put
out.”

“I never said I was.”

“You lied to me.”

“About what?” Carefully placing the spoon on the stove, he leaned against the refrigerator and tilted his head.

“You came here to make my cooking look bad.”

Joey cleared his throat. The thought was so ludicrous, he couldn't even laugh. “Stace, c'mon.”

“I don't need you coming in here, playing the knight in shining armor or whatever it is you're doing. We were doing just fine before you, and we'll do just fine without you. Now get out.”

Her voice shook, and her eyes shone brightly behind her glasses. With a sniff, she pushed them higher on the bridge of her nose.

“I'm not leaving.”

“Yes, you are. Or I'm calling the cops.”

At that, he did laugh. “Sweetheart, I've been in a lot of hairy situations, but getting the cops called on me for cooking lunch for a friend is a bit ridiculous, don't you think?”

Stacey swallowed and bit her bottom lip. After a moment, she said, “Look, I appreciate what you're trying to do. Really. But I can't let you.”

He took a step toward her. “Why are you really upset, Stace?”

Her face crumbled, and she threw her arms in the air. “Because, Joey! The food you cooked took up all of our groceries for the week, Papa had a bad night last night, I didn't sleep at all, and—”

Joey stopped her rambling with his fingers. “Are you guys having money trouble?”

“Of course we are, you idiot. He's got cancer. I don't work. The bills are adding up. I've been living off rice and beans for months now, but it's the only way I can keep up. Even then, it's not saying much if keeping up means I'm two months behind on every bill I owe.”

Joey couldn't help himself this time. He swallowed the distance between them in two long strides and pulled her into his arms. “I'm so sorry.”

She pushed weakly at his chest. “Don't be. I don't want your pity.”

“I don't feel sorry for you, Stacey. I just wish you didn't have to go through this. You're too young.”

“Twenty kind of feels like two hundred these days.”

Joey pulled back and tucked her unruly hair behind her ear. “That's why I'm here.”

“Be honest with me. You've been gone two years, and I haven't seen you but a handful of times. Why are you suddenly taking such an interest in my situation?”

“That's easy, Stace. Because I love you.” When her brows came down in a fierce frown, he backpedaled. Maybe it wasn't the best thing to say, given the circumstances. “We're friends, right? Even while I was in college, I always thought about you. Wondered how you were doing. Mom gave me updates occasionally, but I still wondered. I wanted to see you for myself.”

She pushed her glasses up on her nose again. “I think the lack of sleep is getting to me. None of this is adding up.”

Good, it wasn't for him either. “Why did you quit school?”

He could practically see the wall come down at the mentions of school.
“Same reason you
finished.
” She gave him a careless shrug. “I wanted to.”

“I don't believe it. You used to always talk about going to college.”

“Things change. I changed. You can't take education with you when you die, Joey. It's different for a man, though. You'll have to provide for a family one day. I just want to be a wife and mother. The only education I need for that is the Bible.”

He nodded, swallowing thickly. Was now the right time to ask what he'd come to ask? “You'll be a wonderful wife and mother.” Slowly, he slid his palms up and down her arms, watching her lids droop at his touch.

She was too tired. Now certainly wasn't the time. “Are you hungry?” he questioned before placing a gentle kiss on her forehead.

“Just sleepy.”

“Go lie down. I'll make sure Mr. Ingram gets fed, and I'll save a plate for when you wake up. I'm here for the rest of the day so take advantage of me.”

Stacey raised an eyebrow at his words
,
and he chuckled.

“That way, too, if you want, but you need to rest first. I like my women spunky.”

The sweet pink he'd come to love rose in her cheeks, and he chuckled again. He turned her around in the direction of her room and patted her bottom.

He watched as she made her way to the door. Just before she rounded the corner, she glanced back at him and smiled.

“Thanks, Joey.”

He tipped an invisible hat and winked. “My pleasure, ma'am.”

****

Stacey came awake a little at a time. Just when she thought she was well-rested, she'd wake up again a while later. Occasionally she'd hear the murmurs in the living room, but she couldn't remember the last time she'd been able to ignore them.

Without warning, the door burst open. Sitting straight up, her eyes wide, she saw Joey standing in the door, breathing hard and sweat beaded on his brow.

Somehow, before he even said anything, she knew. “Papa!”

Throwing the covers back, she tumbled out of bed and pushed past Joey.

The hospice nurse sat at his side, administering something through an IV. “What's going on?”

“He's asking for you,” Joey supplied behind her. “Jane says it's almost time.”

A sob choked Stacey's airway, and she walked past the nurse and sat on the edge of the bed. “Hey, Papa,” she said. His smile was weak, and his shaking hand reached for her. He took her face and brought it down to his lips.

“I love you,” he whispered.

“Oh, Papa,” she said, swiping at the tears so her last vision of him wasn't blurry.

"Be good, punkin," he whispered. Slowly, his eyes found Joey, and he pointed his finger without moving his hand. "He loves you. Love him back." His breathing was ragged and slow. The hospice nurse gave Stacey one of those impersonal, sad smiles.

She felt Joey's hands on her shoulders and
a
gentle
, reassuring
squeeze. Amazement drifted through her at her grandfather's words. The morphine was talking; it had to be. A tear fell down her cheek. He must want to believe Stacey would fall in love with Joey and have a good life. If it would make him happy for him to believe that, she'd play along. Anything for his passing to be easier.

"I
've always
love
d
him, Papa," she said softly and placed her hand over his. "We'll be happy."

Joey squeezed her again. She barely felt it as she watched Papa draw what would be his final breath. His lungs rattled, and his lips were ashen. His eyes suddenly went distant, and Stacey knew his soul was gone. Her papa was dead. The man who'd willingly stepped up and become her father when her own wasn't there.

The tears choked her. She struggled for air, but she didn't care if she lived or died. Stacey had nothing left to live for. There was no job to distract her, no man and no friends. All of that had gone by the wayside the second Papa got sick.

"I'll call the funeral home when you're ready. Take all the time you need," the nurse said quietly as she made some final notes on her chart and checked Papa's pulse. She didn't have to feel for herself to know it wasn't there. His chest was no longer moving, his mouth had gone slack, and his eyes, while opened, held no hint of the life he'd lived so well.

The room spun as she stood up. This couldn't be her final memory of him. She didn't want to remember him this way, so lifeless and… dead.

She felt the warmth of Joey's arms wrap around her, but she freed herself. Stars spotted her vision, and somehow Joey turned her to face him. His hands came up to rest underneath her jaw.

"Breathe, baby," he whispered, his eyes bright. His words trembled. It was all Stacey needed. Letting out a howl of despair, she sank to the floor, taking Joey with her.

"Papa!" she cried out, her heartache digging so deep tears didn't even well. The hole in her chest ached, and she gripped for a solid surface. Joey was the closest thing.

Tenderly, he gathered her on his lap and held her close.

What was she going to do without her Papa?