Solace In The Silence ✓✓

chapter 20

The look on my best friend's face when Jake and I strolled into kempinsky fifteen minutes later was priceless.

Angie scowled at me in annoyance, sparing her brother a cursory glance. I bit my lip, knowing the ride over had taken twice as long as it should have. We'd done a lot of talking... and there had also been a great deal of time where we hadn't been talking, like at all.

But now Jake was oddly wired, like one wrong move and he might go off. His teeth were visibly clenched, and he was staring straight ahead with a concentrated power that almost knocked me off my guard.

I had to lengthen my strides in order to keep up with him as we maneuvered a path through the bustling restaurant, making our way over to where his family had been waiting for us.

He stooped to tuck his six-foot-one frame beneath the table, dropping his wallet and set of keys on the seat next to him. "Sorry we're late," he said. "Car trouble."

At that bald-faced lie, I kept my expression neutral and slid into the booth beside Jake, sitting directly across from his parents. "Hi, everyone." I raised a hand in greeting, a sudden nervousness bubbling up out of nowhere.

Teresa beamed at me. She then glanced over at Jake. "It's fine, honey. We haven't even had the chance to order yet." Her voice was light and airy. Dismissive.
Granted, the restaurant was packed, and when I scanned around, it seemed like they were understaffed.

There was an ample amount of noise, laughter, and chatter ringing out from other neighboring tables, and crowds of people continued to stream in through the sliding glass doors. If I was being honest with myself, I was partly grateful to have the distraction; we weren't going to be surrounded by uncomfortable silence.

At that admission, my stomach pitched. I had no idea why, but I just couldn't shake the feeling that I was fifth-wheeling their family dinner.
Angie kicked me beneath the table, drawing my gaze to her, and those gunmetal eyes widened knowingly. She leaned over, whisper-hissing low enough that only I could hear, "Your sweaters, uh, inside out."

Yep, I don't think anyone bought it.
The tips of my ears burned, but I tried to stamp out the embarrassment as I reached for my glass and swallowed a gulp of cold water.

"I don't know what you're talking about," I told her. Because seriously, when all else failed, go with denial.
Angie just shook her head, a smirk tugging at the corners of her mouth as she plucked the menu out of its holder to study.

I slumped in the booth, feeling tired and awkward all at once.
From my peripheral vision, I saw how Jake rested his elbows on the table, leaning forward to say something inaudible to his mom. A second later, and my eyes zeroed in on how Teresa's right hand shook. I knew for certain that Jake noticed it was trembling, too, because he wrapped his fingers around her wrist to steady it.

A niggle of unease burrowed deep, but I ignored it, hoping I was just imaging things. Everything was fine. Tonight was just a regular, run-of-the-mill dinner out.
At least, that's what I kept telling myself.

Not wanting to interrupt their flow of conversation, I toyed with the hem of my sweater, winding a loose thread around my finger. Averting my gaze to Sam, I offered him a small, uncertain smile.

"So, how's school going, Bess?" he asked, surprising me. The furrowed lines of tension on his brow were still there, but he didn't seem as withdrawn as yesterday. "Keeping you busy?"

"You could say that. I've got a couple of assignments due soon, then midterms next month." I exhaled wearily, feeling my stress levels climb at the mere mention of everything that was on my plate right now. "It's hard work, but I'm really enjoying it."
"I'm glad." There was a pause. Sam nodded slowly. "Life's too short not to do what you love." His hazel eyes misted, taking on a faraway look, and I didn't miss the heavy meaning in his words.

Before I could reply, the waitress appeared, and we were all ordering food and drinks.
Halfway through dinner, Jake had still barely said anything to his parents. Or to Angie. Or to me.
Crap. The silent routine was never a good sign, and I could tell that he was doing some kind of internal warfare with himself.

I snuck a peek in his direction, finding his expression carefully blank, like it had been since we arrived. Sure, he was always pretty impassive, but I had the sinking suspicion that whatever thoughts plagued him were truckloads of bad. He never acted like this without a reason.

Concern overrode any other thought. I shifted even closer to him so that our heads were bent near each other, murmuring softly, "Hey, whatever's going on, I'm here."
His heated gaze swung to me, startled, and it was like a physical touch, thawing my insides.
Some of the anxiety dissolved from his eyes. "Yeah, I know, baby," he drawled, his voice deeper than normal. "Thank you."

I tried to nod and smile as Sam insisted on staying for dessert, but it felt more like a grimace. The prospect of having to sit here any longer, conversing in ceremonious table talk, had dread snaking through me.
I blinked back into awareness when Teresa straightened in her chair and finally declared, "All right, so there's no easy way to say this, and there's no point putting it off any longer." At first, she focused all her attention on her husband, and he put his arm around her reassuringly, patting her back.
Uh-oh.

Angie and I froze, exchanging a brief glance of mirrored turmoil, and I felt Jake bristle beside me.
Teresa paused long enough for our sweet course to be delivered, and then her golden curls tumbled over her petite shoulders as she inclined forward, twisting at the waist, facing us once more. Her gaze softened. "As you know, I've been having trouble sleeping, but I wasn't worried until I noticed that I was starting to lose my sense of smell."

One of Jake's hands lowered under the table, entwining our fingers together, and I relaxed a little at the contact. He shifted closer, his jean-clad leg pressing against mine. I could tell by his vice-like grip that he was just as riled up as I was.

Despair and hope warred inside me as I met and held Teresa's stare.
It was like I could see the actual seconds that ticked by, and it felt like an eternity before she said, "I went in to see a neurologist in India to have a specialized brain scan done in July." She went quiet for a moment, and every muscle in my body locked up.

"That's where your father and I were again this weekend, discussing the limited treatment options, because... well, I'm sick."
My heartbeat grew erratic, thrumming off-kilter in my ears. An unrelenting drumbeat that drowned out everything else.

I was immediately transported back to the conversation I'd had two years ago with my parents. They'd sat me down, much like now, when they'd told me that the car my brother's best friend, had been driving, had spun out of control, colliding with another vehicle. We'd been called down to the scene, not knowing if Elvis had died on impact, or if he was still alive.

I remembered the empty highway, the crumpled subaru, trying to talk and being unable to speak, because, without warning, my voice had been snatched from me, just like my brother had been. Everything had felt wrong and unfair, almost like I'd fallen into a nightmare, and for the first time, I wasn't waking up.
It was the worst night of my fucking life.

And it only took one sidelong look at Angie to know she was exactly where I'd been—your very own personal hell.
She blanched. "Treatment options?" she parroted. "No. No. That's not possible. You can't be sick, Mama."
The familiar pressure was increasing something fierce, tightening around my chest.

"And why does it seem like you're only having this conversation with me"—Angie's eyes, cold and accusing, glanced between her brother and me—"unless you both already knew about this? Was I the only one who didn't?"
Jake tensed again, and the fine sheen of sweat that dotted across Sam's forehead didn't escape my notice.

"No! I had no idea that..." Unable to form the words, my voice tapered off.
"Bess didn't know." Jake leveled his sister a pointed look. "But yeah, I did," he added, his voice losing some of its hard edge.

He released my hand, and I almost choked on my own oxygen.
A pang of sympathy echoed through me, and my breath came out wobbly.

"W-What?"