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Baked With Love 2 Page 2
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“You don’t know what to say about what the doctor…” Gemma coughed. “What doctor Willoughby said?”
“I don’t understand it. I’m trying to process it, but this nightmare just seems to keep getting worse.” Gianna tried to stop herself from saying that much but it came out, anyway. She didn’t like discussing her concerns with Gemma, especially since she always looked at Gemma as a child – her child – and she was the adult taking care of her. And as an adult, parents didn’t offload their woes on their kids no matter how bad circumstances were. They sucked it up, held it all in and looked for ways to solve the problems while the kids went on to live their lives. That’s what Gianna wanted to do. She wanted Gemma to be happy even though she was sick – an oxymoron she knew because how can you be happy when you’re sick – but still, she wished happiness for her sister and she thought chemotherapy was a pathway to that happiness. But it failed. “How does chemo not work? That’s the treatment for cancer and it didn’t work. I don’t get it.”
Gemma cleared her throat. “Okay, so what? The chemo isn’t working. It’s not the end of the world.”
Losing you would be the end of my world. Gianna took a sip of water to dispel the urge to cry.
“Besides, I got new pills now,” Gemma said. “Maybe they will do what the chemo couldn’t do.”
Gianna inhaled a breath and briefly covered her face with her hands.
“Gianna, will you stop stressing out? Everything is going to be alright,” Gemma told her.
Gianna forced a smile even though a tension headache throbbed at her temples. How was it that Gemma – the one suffering, the one battling cancer – more optimistic than she was? It was a testament to her strength – to the realization of knowing she had a disease that could possibly take her life but she still found a reason to be hopeful. To smile.
The soup arrived and Gemma inhaled a whiff of it. “Mmm…smells sooo good.”
“It does.” Gianna tasted hers. “It’s hot, so be careful.”
“Yes, mommy,” Gemma teased.
Gianna smirked.
“Speaking of mommy, have you heard from ours lately?”
“Nope,” Gianna said and left it at that. Talking about her mother would incense her and she wanted to enjoy this time – these memories – she was having with her sister. She never knew if it would be the last they’d make. “I can’t believe I left my phone home.”
“You didn’t need it anyway, well unless you were waiting for a call from Ramsey.” Gemma waggled her eyebrows.
Gianna hid a smile. “No, I wasn’t waiting for a call from Ramsey.”
“Yes, you were.” Gemma laughed. “Look…you can’t even talk about him without your cheeks turning red.”
“Sure I can,” Gianna said, manually pressing her cheeks to flatten them, thus ridding her face of the smile that was so prevalent whenever Ramsey was the subject. Then she said, “I would like to know what possessed him to spend the night without my approval.”
Gemma twisted her mouth. “How could you approve anything while you were sleeping?”
“Okay. You have a point.”
“Besides, he seems like a nice guy. I had a lil’ chat with him last night after you fell asleep.” Gemma dipped a piece of bread in the creamy, cheesy broccoli soup, then chewed it.
“You had a chat with him? Seriously?”
“Umm…hmm,” she hummed. “And guess what, Gianna? I think he really likes you and I’m not talking friend-like. I’m talking smoochy-smoochaay.” Gemma puckered her lips.
Gianna didn’t know why she suddenly felt embarrassed but she did. She glanced around the immediate area where they were sitting then whispered across the table to Gemma, “Gem, put your lips down. He doesn’t like me in that way.”
Gemma laughed. “Why are you whispering? He’s not in here. Or maybe he is, looking like that double fudge brownie I saw in the display case.”
“Gem!” Gianna whispered loudly.
Gemma continued laughing. “Gianna, you’ve got to be out of your mind if you think that man doesn’t have the hots for you.”
Gianna’s mouth turned up in the corner. “Men have the hots for Victoria Secret models—not flour-slanging cupcake girls. There’s no way a man of his prestige would be attracted to plain, ol’ me. No way.”
“First of all, you’re not old and you’re not plain. You’re as weird as they come, but not old and plain.”
“Oh, that’s reassuring. Thanks for reminding me of how weird and awkward I am, Gem.”
Gemma cracked a smile. “You know what I mean.”
“No, I don’t. Care to explain, lil’ girl?”
“Ugh…you need to loosen up and you really need to get out more. Goodness. Ramsey is attracted to you and it’s because you’re quirky. You’re probably unlike any woman he’s ever encountered and he finds that appealing.”
Gianna’s brows narrowed. “And you know this how?”
“I watch Lifetime and Hallmark all day, every day while I’m lying in bed. I’ve seen every romance movie that has ever been produced. Men don’t want the same ol’ same ol’. They want a woman who’ll keep them on their toes. Keep them guessing. And God knows you have enough weirdness in your backpack to keep him guessing for the rest of his life.”
Gianna couldn’t help but giggle at the way her sister was cackling. “You can’t compare real life to fictional TV movies.”
“Yes, I can. You know why?”
“Why, Gem?”
“Because most movies are based on actual, real-life events.”
“Not true.”
“It is true.”
“Okay. Fine. I’m not going to debate with you over movies, but what I will say is, if your theory is correct and Ramsey is interested in me because I’m a lil’ different—”
“Not different. Weird,” Gemma interrupted to clarify.
“Okay…weird, why is he the only man to ever want me?”
“He’s not. I see the way men look at you. You just don’t see it. Or maybe you do. You just refuse to acknowledge it, but I’m here to tell you…you’re stunning.”
Gianna lowered her cup to the table. “You’re my sister. You have to say I’m stunning.”
“But I mean it, Gianna. You’re beautiful. You just don’t apply yourself.” Because you’re so busy taking care of me.
“Well, thank you, Gem, but I doubt very seriously if Ramsey is interested in me like that.” Maybe if she said it enough, she’d actually believed it, but honestly, she knew Ramsey liked her. Several times now, he’d smothered her with hugs. Even last night, sitting on the couch, he’d put his arms around her and she bathed in his scent. Felt comfort in knowing that he was there – so comfortable that she fell asleep. She’d never done that before – fallen asleep in a man’s arms. She’d never let a man get that close. But with Ramsey, it was a different story.
“What if he is interested in you like that?” Gemma asked.
“He’s not,” Gianna said, dipping a piece of French bread into the soup.
Gemma cleared her throat. “Help me understand then. So, you don’t feel anything when you’re around him?”
Tickled, Gianna said, “Feel anything? Like what? What am I supposed to feel?”
“You know…chemistry. Tingly sensations. Vibes. Something along those lines.”
“Yeah, I feel something…I feel nervous. He makes me nervous and jittery like I’ve had too much caffeine or something.”
“Mmm, hmm. That counts as chemistry in my book.”
Gianna smiled and shook her head, aimlessly stirring soup.
“What about when you look into his eyes?” Gemma asked.
“I can’t look into his eyes—well, I—I can, but not for very long.”
“Why not?” Gemma asked, tossing a soup-drenched piece of bread into her mouth.
“Because I feel like he’s peering into my soul when he looks at me. It’s freaky.”
Gemma chuckled. “Oh, yeah. You like him.”
Gianna blushed, then admitted, “Okay. I like him, a tad, but even if he was interested in me, which I highly doubt, I wouldn’t know what to do with a man like Ramsey.”
“You could fall in love with him.”
“You say that like love is so easy.”
“It can be. It’s usually the people who make it difficult.”
“Well, that’s an insightful way of looking at it.”
Gemma took another spoonful of soup into her mouth.
“On a more serious note, Dr. Willoughby said you have to be very careful. With a weakened immune system, you can easily catch stuff, which is probably why we should’ve just gone home instead of stopping here.”
“I’m alright, Gianna. Eat. I heard what the doctor said. I need to wash my hands frequently, use hand sanitizer, blah, blah, freakin’ blah. Got it.”
Gianna ate more of her soup and the two of them were quiet for a moment when Gemma asked, “What does he do?”
“Who? Ramsey?”
“Yeah.”
“He’s an architect.”
“What about family? Does he have siblings?”
“Yep. His parents are still together and he has three brothers—Regal, Royal and Romulus.”
“Cool.”
“And they all work for St. Claire Architects,” Gianna added.
“So, you and Ramsey have been getting personal, huh?”
“Ugh…will you quit it, Gem,” Gianna said, smiling. Blushing.
Gemma tried to hold it in but she coughed again. This cough lasted longer than the others.
“Where is this coughing coming from all of a sudden? You weren’t coughing like this during your check-up.”
“I know. This soup probably just went down wrong. That’s what I get for eating so fast but it’s so good.”
“Drink a little water,” Gianna told her.
Gemma sipped water, then cleared her throat. “Ah…that’s better.”
“I think we should get going, anyway. It’s almost your nap time.”
“You make me sound like a defenseless infant.”
“Well, you are my baby sister. I have to take care of you.” And I will take care of you, even if it kills me.
* * *
When they arrived home, Gianna reminded Gemma to wash her face and her hands. Then, after Gemma changed into her pajamas, she helped her get comfortable in bed for an afternoon nap.
“The day is still young, Gianna. What are you going to do while I’m lying here being all lazy, watching movies?”
“I’ll find something to do. Trust me.”
Gemma yawned. “Just enjoy being off work today. Tomorrow, you’ll be back on your feet again.”
“Don’t remind me,” Gianna said. “Anyway, rest. I love you.”
“Love you too, Gianna.”
When Gianna closed the door to Gemma’s bedroom, she was already in tears as she headed upstairs to her own bedroom. The doctor didn’t give a good report on Gemma. The chemotherapy didn’t work, and he prescribed her some pills just as a way of saying there’s nothing else we can do without actually saying the words. If chemotherapy wasn’t effective, what chance did Gemma have after a few measly pills?
In her bedroom, she sat on the bed, making herself breathe through the tightening of her chest. She wanted to scream. How else would she release this pain? Instead, she did what she did best – what she trained herself to do – internalize it all until it balled up inside of her so tightly, the pressure made tears come out of her eyes until they soaked her pillow. The pain, sorrow, the hurt would only subside when she was asleep.
Chapter 3
Ramsey had tried getting in touch with Gianna a few more times after leaving the parking lot of Felicity’s office. Still, she didn’t answer, and it plagued him as to why she wasn’t picking up. Was Gemma still at the appointment? Hospitalized? What was going on? Maybe it wasn’t his business to know, but he didn’t care if it was his business or not. He needed to know, and soon.
Deciding to go home and work off his frustration, he slid on a pair of gym shorts and a T-shirt and ran for thirty minutes nonstop on a tread climber. Then he did a round of pushups – a hundred straight – and chin lifts, too many to count. He was about to do some weight lifting when his phone rang. He pulled the soaked, T-shirt over his head, tossing it over to the wicker hamper, then walked over to the counter where his phone was. Hoping to see the caller was Gianna, he grew crestfallen when he realized it was his brother, Royal.
He answered, “Didn’t Regal tell you I was off this month?” He wasn’t close with Royal or Romulus for that matter, but Royal especially. And they rarely talked outside of work.
“He told me,” Royal acknowledged, “But I didn’t believe him and my instincts were right since you were at the university site this morning, threatening McFarlane.”
“Threatening is a strong word, Royal. You can come up with something better than that, can’t you?”
“No. Threatening is spot on. That’s what you do. Threaten people. You don’t—”
“I don’t make threats. I make promises. Now, I laid down my expectations for McFarlane and that’s what I meant. If they’re one day over the contractually agreed upon date, the late fees will apply.”
“Two thousand dollars a day?” Royal said, sounding pissed.
“Yes. Two grand, and no, I don’t care that you have a problem with it, Royal.”
“I’m sure you don’t. You don’t care about anything but your massive ego.”
He’d struck a nerve. Ego? As it was, Ramsey didn’t want to talk work at the moment. He wanted to know where Gianna was, but instead, he had to listen to his younger brother rant about his ego? Seriously? “What does my ego have to do with these companies failing to honor their commitments? I’m done dealing with people, companies and corporations who don’t do what they say they’re going to do. As of late, most of these contractors we hire never hit their target dates. Going forward, if a contractor gives me a date, then I expect for the work to be completed, on or by that date. No exceptions. I don’t care if they have to work overtime or hire more people as long as it gets done on the date they’ve contractually agreed upon. You should’ve known that this has been a recurring problem.”
“Yes, I know it’s a problem. That’s why I’m getting a team together to work on it now. I’m the troubleshooter, remember?”
More like the troublemaker. “Right. You are the troubleshooter. So, should I blame you for the University City project running behind schedule?”
“If you feel like it, but pointing blame isn’t going to make us operate any more efficiently, Ram. We need solutions.”
Ramsey’s brows snapped together when he said, “Then come up with some solutions, Royal.”
“What do you think I’ve been doing?” Royal replied.
Ramsey shrugged. “Beats me. Every time I blink, you’re taking time off. If you want this job, I do expect you to do some real work.”
Royal hissed his displeasure in the form of a long sigh. “You’re unbelievable.”
“No. I’m real, and you can’t handle the truth. You’re used to everything being handed to you on a platter, but let me be the first to tell you—if you want this job, do it!”
“You know what…I’m going to get off the line. I don’t know what crawled up your butt but call me back after you’ve had your fix…whatever that is.”
Ramsey listened to the dial tone and placed the phone back on the shelf. He took a towel from the counter, wiped sweat from his face and walked to the kitchen to get a tall bottle of Voss water. Then he grabbed a green apple from the fruit bowl on the island, almost demolishing it in five bites. He tried calling Gianna again. But there was no answer from his fix.
* * *
After taking a shower, Ramsey decided that enough was enough. He was done wondering. He decided to go see for himself how Gemma was doing and why Gianna wasn’t answering her phone. When he pulled up in her driveway, he noticed her car was there. Ge
mma’s appointment was early this morning. Right now, it was after five. The appointment had been long over. What had she been doing since then? Chilling at home, ignoring his calls?”
He rang the doorbell and waited…not hearing a sound. There was no creaking of the floor or the faint sound of a TV or radio playing. Nothing. Just silence. He pushed the doorbell again, frowning this time. “Where are you, Gianna?” he asked evenly. He pushed the doorbell again, twice more, and when he heard someone at the door, his anxiety lessened. He watched the door open slowly to reveal Gemma standing there with a beige scarf on her head. Her arms were crossed like she was cold.
“Hey, Ramsey,” Gemma said softly.
“Hi, Gemma. May I come in?” he asked, taking a step forward before she could answer.
“Yeah. You can come in.” She unlatched the lock that secured the storm door and he opened it.
When he stepped inside, he embraced Gemma while asking, “How did it go? What did the doctor say? Is everything okay?” He broke the hug to look at her when she replied.
“It was as I expected it would be. My doctor said chemo isn’t working, so he started me…” Gemma coughed. “He’s started me on some…some pills. And Gianna freaked out.”
“What do you mean she freaked out?” he asked, his chest rising in and out quickly. The thought of something bothering Gianna bothered him, too. Made him feel a bout of panic. Where did that come from?
“She got quiet on me,” Gemma explained. “That’s what she does when she’s upset and worried. Goes stone silent, and I know she cried herself to sleep. I just know it.”
“Where is she?” he asked, his eyes scanning the living room, gazing on into the kitchen, looking for her.
“She went upstairs and hasn’t been back down since.”
“What time did you get home from the appointment?”