In the Cards(53)

For an instant, I’m faintly relieved at having told someone the truth. Then panic strikes as I worry about how Lindsey will view my past. Fortunately, she appears sympathetic instead of disapproving.

“You must’ve been very lonely.” She pauses, as if she’s afraid to continue. “It makes your accomplishments that much more impressive.”

Her lack of judgment relaxes me until she continues with the questions.

“That’s another thing—how did you acquire so much without any formal education? Surely you didn’t bartend your way into so much money.” She winks, and the reminder of our first encounter coaxes a smile from me.

“Actually, I sorta did. Right after we met, I moved to Vegas, where I spent several years bartending at nightclubs and playing in poker tournaments in my free time. I lived in a dump and saved almost everything I made. After reading a dozen books about stock trading, I gave it a shot. Got real lucky with a few risky investments during the recession, and now here I am. Actually, most people probably don’t realize the parallels between poker and investing.”

“That’s incredible. You must’ve been extremely disciplined. Come to think of it, you still are pretty disciplined.” She grins, then her brows crease. She’s looking at everything except for me. “So, where was your mother all this time? Did she die when you were young?”

“She’s dead to me.” My jaw tics.

“Again, cryptic.”

“It really doesn’t matter much why she’s not in my life. It is what it is.”

“So she’s not dead.”

I bury my head back into my pillow and squeeze my eyes closed, heaving an exasperated sigh.

“No, she’s not dead. I haven’t seen her since I turned nine. I don’t care for her and she sure don’t care about me.” Shit. The grammar again. I open one eye and peer at Lindsey.

Oddly, she seems unsurprised by my admission. How’s that possible? Maybe she’s too stunned to react to everything she just learned. She picks imaginary lint off my blanket while she considers her next question.

“So, you push everyone away because you’re afraid they’ll leave like she did?” Lindsey’s searching for a way in, but I can’t let her in any deeper. I’m already in tricky territory with her.

“Don’t play shrink with me. I choose how to live my life. That’s how I want things. I keep friendly acquaintances with folks around town, but I don’t get overly involved. It works for me. I’m not lonely. Unlike you, I don’t suffer any heartbreak.”

She leans close to me, speaking quietly. “You only think it works because you focus on the potential for pain at the expense of all the pleasure. Yes, I’ve been hurt by people, but I’ve also experienced the highs of loving and of being loved. It’s a gift to be connected to something bigger than myself.”

Failing to tamp down my own bewildered annoyance, I sneer. “Goody for you, but I’m not interested in being someone different. Don’t try to change me.”

With my final remark, her eyes dim. All of the light from inside snuffs out. She shrugs, causing a shudder to travel through me.

“Okay.” She sighs and drops her head.

“Okay? So, the inquisition’s over?” I reach for her hand. “You won’t keep at me to open up and make friends with people?”

She views me, affectless.

“No. I hear you. No friends. No family. You want to be left alone.” She removes her hand from mine and stands.

Something opens up and shifts between us. I don’t like it. Nausea brews, and not as a result of my infection. In a split second, all of her affection vanished.

“Well, thanks for your honesty, Levi.” She walks to the edge of the bed. “I should be off. You’re not supposed to have lengthy visits with anyone. When’s the surgery? I’ll be here before and wait until I know you’re all right.”

Her tone’s even and controlled. I prefer the domineering, cheerful Lindsey to this version, but the fact that I care at all alarms me. I’ve become too fond of her, and I feel her pulling away now that I’ve disclosed nearly everything. Knowing this can only end badly for me, I need to disengage before I risk any more of myself.

“Thanks, but you’ve devoted too much time to me and my problems. If I recall, you have your own issues to sort out.”

Lindsey inhales a long, deep breath, glancing off and up toward the ceiling. When she looks at me again, her eyes are glistening.

“Get well soon, Levi. I’ll see you . . . later.”

She grabs her purse and dashes out the door before I can respond.