Chapter 13
Kyle, of all people, called to say goodbye. "Do you have everything? Do you need a ride to the airport?" he asked.
Brandon glanced at the luggage he'd packed. He'd hired a car to take him to Sacramento. He was meeting his agent, Scott Jones, for lunch before heading to the airport. To pay a driver to come all the way out to Whiskey Creek was expensive, but he couldn't let any of his friends or family see that he wasn't taking a backpack.
"I'm covered," he replied. "Thanks, though."
"Your plane leaves at five?"
He grimaced as he shifted. His leg was giving him so much trouble today. It was getting worse all the time. "Five-thirty."
After this small talk, there was a slight pause. "Okay. Have a nice trip."
Brandon stopped Kyle before he could hang up. "You thought you'd offer me a ride because … "
"When she was here for the wedding, Olivia told me something I've decided might be true."
He hadn't realized Olivia and Kyle had had much chance to talk, or were even on speaking terms. That toast at the wedding had been so generous it had blown Brandon away. He couldn't imagine many other women being able to forgive so quickly that they could wish a sister well despite the hurt she'd caused. "What did Olivia say?"
"That I should try talking to you now and then. That I might be missing out on having a great brother."
A fresh pang of longing shot through Brandon. He hadn't talked to Olivia since their encounter in the gardens during the wedding, but his desire to hear her voice hadn't diminished. If anything it had grown stronger. "She did?"
"I told you how much she admires you."
"I remember. I'm still not sure why you bothered to do that."
"I missed out. Doesn't mean you have to," he said and hung up.
Brandon stared at his phone. He wanted to call Olivia one more time, to at least be able to say goodbye. But a honk let him know the car had arrived. He had to get his luggage outside or he'd be late for lunch, which could potentially make him late for the airport.
* * *
Today Brandon was leaving for Europe and his surgery. Olivia had received a text from him a few days ago telling her he'd like to stop in to say goodbye. She wanted to say goodbye to him, too, but she knew it would be too difficult to see him again, knowing what lay ahead. She was worried about his leg, about his career, about his being in Europe on his own for weeks, maybe months, while he recuperated. She hated that he hadn't told anyone else what he was doing. That meant even his parents wouldn't be there to support him. As far as they were concerned, he was off on another grand adventure. If anything, they felt mildly annoyed that he didn't seem to be growing up.
She sighed as she clicked on one YouTube clip of him after another. He was truly an impressive skier. She loved watching him plunge down those treacherous mountains. He seemed able to conquer the impossible. There was an inherent thrill in seeing someone who mattered so much to her do something so magical. But she also cringed with each new descent. She knew he was addicted to the adrenaline and all the benefits the sport brought him, and if he continued, he might not survive.
Her phone rang just as she was trying to make herself go to the office. She had work to do, work that was piling up because she couldn't seem to quit thinking about Brandon.
For a split second, she thought maybe it was him on the phone. But it wasn't. He'd stopped calling a few days ago. This was Noelle. Her sister was trying to reach her for the first time since the wedding.
Unable to deal with Noelle on this of all days, she set her phone aside. But a minute later, she heard the buzz of an incoming text.
"What do you want?" she grumbled and checked her messages.
Brandon's off on his Nicaragua trip for God knows how long. He probably won't even remember your name when he gets back, her sister had written.
Noelle couldn't seem to help herself. She just had to be spiteful.
Olivia nearly responded with some remark about the difficulty of marriage and good luck getting Kyle to give her that house in town-or earning Kyle's love, for that matter. But her mother had told her Noelle was having a tough time adjusting to married life. Apparently stealing Kyle hadn't brought her the happiness she'd thought it would. So, instead of unleashing all the hurtful things she was dying to say, Olivia wrote, I wish Brandon the best.
Then she went to get showered. Noelle was right on one account. Brandon would forget her soon enough.
* * *
Lunch with Scott was tense. His agent was the only one, besides Olivia, who knew that Brandon's leg wasn't healing properly, the one who'd arranged the operation to fix it. He had a vested interest in seeing Brandon succeed, so he clearly wasn't happy when Brandon came toward him, unable to walk without a slight limp.
"It's worse?" he said.
Some days, like today, the pain was so bad Brandon almost couldn't tolerate it. "A lot worse." He hated to hear himself say that, but there it was.
Scott cursed, looked away, then forced a smile. "Dr. Shapiro will take care of you. He's the best leg man in the world. A real miracle-worker."
Brandon nodded and listened as Scott detailed what they'd accomplish next season. Neither one of them admitted that, if the operation didn't work, his career was finished. It wasn't a possibility they could even acknowledge.
By the time the waitress brought the check, Brandon was eager for lunch to be over. He'd thought seeing Scott would be helpful, motivating, encouraging, but he found that their visit had depressed him instead. It was the worry in Scott's eyes.
"When do you have to be at the airport?" Scott asked.
Brandon glanced at his watch. "Half an hour. We'd better go."
They rode in silence. There wasn't much more to say. Brandon had a rough few weeks ahead of him, with uncertainty his only companion.
When they arrived, Scott insisted on parking and taking Brandon's luggage. That in itself told Brandon his agent was deeply concerned. How many times had Scott brought him here and dropped him at the curb?
Too many to count. But Brandon didn't argue. He figured he'd be on his own all too soon.
They were in line at the ticket counter when he received a text from Olivia. He couldn't believe she'd finally responded.
What she'd written came as an even bigger surprise: Before you go, I just want you to know that I've never felt about anyone else the way I feel about you. You own my heart, Brandon. I think you have since prom. So please, be safe. I want to see you on the slopes next fall.
"What is it?" Although Scott had been getting anxious to leave-making calls and answering texts while they waited-he was watching Brandon now, too curious to be distracted by the passing time.
"A friend," he replied, but he realized almost as soon as those words came out of his mouth that she was much more than a friend. He'd never felt about anyone else the way he felt about her, either.
"I can help you here, sir." The gal at the ticket counter smiled, expecting him to approach. But he couldn't move.
"Brandon?" Scott had already dragged his luggage to the scale.
"I can't do this," he said, remaining right where he was.
Scott's eyes nearly popped out of his head. "What? Are you crazy?"
The reason behind the fear that had been gripping his stomach for days suddenly became clear. It wasn't only his career he was afraid of losing. "I have to see someone."
"I have no idea what you're talking about," Scott said. "See who?"
Waving the family behind him to the counter in his place, Brandon stepped out of line.
His shocked agent hurried over with his bags. "What are you doing?" he whispered. "If you miss this plane, you'll miss your operation. And I'm not sure when we'll be able to reschedule. This doctor is booked. Do you hear me? He's world-famous."
"I can't leave her," he said simply.
"Can't leave who, for crying out loud?" Scott jerked on his tie, trying to loosen it. "You have to get on this plane! Do you want to ski next season or not?"
He wanted to ski. But that was no longer all he wanted. "Drive me back to Sacramento or I'll take a cab," he said and wrenched his suitcase from Scott's hand.
* * *
Olivia felt much better after texting Brandon. She knew she'd probably never see him again-unless it was to bump into him occasionally while visiting Whiskey Creek. But at least she'd finally had the guts to be honest with him about her feelings. Somehow that seemed important, whether he wanted to hear what she had to say or not. It wasn't as if she expected anything in return. She'd spoken the truth so he would know how hard she'd be praying for his health and well-being while he was gone. That was all. He needed someone to know, someone to care.