“He’s still yourmanager?”
She shrugged as she swiped to unlock the phone. “I’m loyal that way. Hey, Steve. I need afavor.”
The Claddagh ring twinkled on her finger, while she paced the room and arranged the details with her manager. Izzie was right, she was loyal to those she loved. So was he. He recalled the promise he made to her on her senior prom night. She would always have his friendship, his love, and hisloyalty.
All he had to do was convince her to acceptthem.
17
Izzie
Her heart burstat the seams watching the two men she loved the most get lost in a tightembrace.
Arthur’s face buried in the crook of Tristan’s neck as he sobbed, “I thought I’d never meet you,Dad.”
Tristan’s big hand stroking Arthur’s black curls as he fought his tears. “I’ve got you, son. I’ve got you. You’re safenow.”
She had already shared her bout of crying inside her son’s arms, but she would need a heart of stone to remain untouched by the scene in front of her. She shoved her hands inside of her front pockets to contain the urge to fold her arms around the two. The hospital bed was too small, and Tristan sitting on its edge took most of the space, anyway. She didn’t want to risk hurting Arthur’s arm, where the nurses had hooked theIV.
She stepped back, and contemplated father and son as they got through the awkwardness of their first encounter. She had made her piece with her past bad choices, like robbing her son of a father for fourteen years; or hiding his son from Tristan. That didn’t make the ache in her chest any easier to bear, now that she had finally brought them together. She promised herself she would make up for that mistake for the rest of herlife.
All she had to do was convince Tristan to accept her back in hislife.
Forgood.
* * *
After Mark’sarrest and Arthur’s return, Izzie and her small family focused on the impending transplant surgery. More tests, more probing and poking of Tristan and Arthur. And Izzie was left with the task of managing two whinymales.
Until she reached herlimit.
One evening, they returned home from the clinic, and father and son had been complaining non-stop through dinner. She occupied the chair at head of the table for six that dominated the intimate dining area. Tristan had the chair to her right, while Arthur was sitting on her left. In the beginning, she listened to them and offered arguments, which they ignored. She was glad they had bonded so closely, the health ordeal they were facing together helped that connection. She would appreciate it, if they listened to her more. She wasn’t a fucking doormat, never had been, and never wouldbe.
Weary, she dropped her fork and knife, they clanked as they bounced off the plate onto the polished mahoganytable.
“Seriously, dudes? You’re whimpering because they had to redo the CT scans?” She jabbed her index at both men’s chests for emphasis. “You have no idea how lucky you are you don’t bleed every fucking month for days on end. The tomography room was too cold? Boo-hoo. Try carrying another person in your belly for nine months, then having it get out of you through a tiny littlehole.”
She wrapped up her ranting and scowled at them. They exchanged glances before looking at her. They were wise not to make fun of her, but she spotted a hint of a smile on Tristan’s pursed lips. Arthur’s eyes sparkled with something dangerously close toamusement.
Tristan covered her hand. “I hear you, sweetheart. We sound like a couple ofbrats.”
She leaned back on her chair. “Youdo.”
“I’m sorry, mom. I didn’t mean to upsetyou.”
“That is okay, hon. I know youdidn’t.”
Standing, Tristan tipped his head toward the kitchen. “Come on, buddy. Let’s get mommy some dessert.” He slung an arm around Arthur’s shoulder and she watched them amble away. A couple of feet shy of the kitchen door, Tristan delivered his punch line. “I’ve heard chocolate works miracles with women during their menstrualperiod.”
Their guffaw deflated herannoyance.
When they returned carrying a mouthwatering Fudge Cake, she shook her head and smiled. “What am I going to do with you two?” Father and son exchanged another quick glance and she frowned. “What are you upto?”
“Nothing, mom. May I cut you aslice?”
“That’s very nice of you. I appreciate it,hon.”
Arthur held the serving knife and motioned to cut the cake, but Tristan intervened. “The other side,sonny.”
