The Other Woman's Son. Darlene Gardner

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СКАЧАТЬ Jenna’s reluctance to disappoint her friend, Clay jumped in. “I’ll sweeten the pot by paying for your weekend hotel stay.” An expense he really couldn’t afford.

      “We can’t turn that down, Jenna.” Corrine had definitely gotten into his corner. “I know you feel strongly about the singing being temporary, but it’s only six weeks. That’s no time at all.”

      The jukebox stopped playing, signaling the time had come for Two Gals to begin its second set. The bar crowd generated an impressive amount of noise, but silence resonated at the table.

      “What do you say, Jenna?” Clay prodded.

      Jenna gazed back and forth from Clay to Corrine, who practically vibrated while she waited for her friend’s answer. The silence stretched into what seemed like an eternity. “I suppose we can give it a try.”

      “Awesome.” Corrine clapped her hands.

      Clay tried to hide his overwhelming relief. “I’ll have a contract drawn up, but for now a handshake will do. Corrine, you’re the deal maker, right?”

      “Right.” Corrine eagerly stuck out her hand.

      Clay clasped Corrine’s hand but watched Jenna. She appeared wary, as though she didn’t entirely trust him. She shouldn’t, considering his whopper of an ulterior motive.

      He shook off the image of himself as a fraud, preferring to think of himself as a loving brother trying to provide Darcy with a chance at a normal life.

      Jenna would surely offer to get tested once she knew and loved Darcy. If the tests determined Jenna could be Darcy’s kidney donor, Clay would console himself that the end really did justify his means.

      CHAPTER TWO

      “DON’T WORRY ABOUT ME. I’ll be fine.”

      After her declaration, Darcy Wright deliberately raised the edges of her lips. The way she’d trained herself since learning four days ago that she needed a second kidney transplant.

      Darcy’s mother, standing in front of her dressed in a trendy tennis outfit, expected that sort of blind optimism. So did her brother Clay. Besides, if Darcy let the happy mask she’d worn during the Memorial Day weekend slip, she might not be able to put it back on.

      “This doesn’t feel right, Darcy. I shouldn’t be playing tennis at the country club while you’re getting your first dialysis treatment.”

      “I appreciate that, Mom. I really do. But I’ve gone through dialysis before. I know what to expect. And it’s not like I’ll be there all alone. Kenny’s coming with me.”

      After breaking the news to her boyfriend of six months that her kidney was failing, Darcy had let her stiff upper lip quiver and asked him to keep her company at her initial session. He’d been as sweet as the sugar-coated chewy candy she used to snack on years ago, before doctors instructed her to carefully monitor her diet.

      “I adore Kenny. You know that. But I’m your mother. I should be there, too.”

      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.

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