Sin With Me

57

Nico nods. “They weren’t able to get the whole tumor during his surgery, we know that. And with any remaining tumor tissue there’s always the possibility it will continue to grow—”

“But he could do radiation! Or chemo!” interrupts Grace, distraught.

“And kill healthy brain tissue as well as the tumor,” says Nico gently. “With side effects ranging from memory loss, speech impairment, changes in judgment-making capability, even changes in personality.”

I’m feeling a little queasy. “Changes in personality? Like what?”

Nico’s somber gaze cuts to mine. “Primarily . . . aggressiveness.”

Grace covers her face with her hands. She whispers, “Oh God. Chloe. The baby.”

“Yeah,” sighs Nico, raking a hand through his hair.

“But we don’t know this for sure, right?” I ask, desperate for some kind of hope.

“Not for sure, no. But I gotta be honest, man. A.J. told me right after he came home from the hospital that he was living on borrowed time. He knew even though the surgery was successful at removing most of the tumor it wasn’t a home run, that most likely he’d only bought himself another few years. And he was determined those years would be good, not spent hooked up to machines or sick from chemo drugs. If the tumor’s back . . . he’s gonna let it run its course and enjoy every last minute he can with his family.”

Grace slaps her hands on the table. Everyone jumps.

“Goddamn it!” She jolts to her feet, knocking her chair back. She glares at us, each in turn. “We are not,” she says, breathing heavily, “allowing him to give up!”

Wow. Angry Grace is kind of terrifying.

“I don’t think we really have a choice. If this is A.J.’s decision—”

“No,” she says flatly, cutting me off. “This isn’t only about him. This is about his family, too, and his friends, and everyone who loves him. He can’t just unilaterally decide he’s not getting any more treatment without even finding out definitively what the problem is. No,” she says again, stiffening her back and squaring her shoulders. “That isn’t happening.”

Nico leans back in his chair and folds his arms over his chest. It looks like he’s trying not to smile. Kat is worrying her lower lip. Barney, meanwhile, is grinning up at Grace with this big, dumb smile, like a happy farm animal.

I’d like to kick his leg under the table, but Grace wants me to be mature and not jealous, so instead I briefly allow myself to imagine him being trampled to death by a herd of stampeding bulls, and then I let it go.

But not before feeling the tiniest bit better.

“So what are you saying we should do?” I ask. “Go over there and confront him?”

Grace thinks for a moment. Then she sinks back into her chair. “No. No, I don’t want to upset Chloe, or embarrass him. I’ll figure something out.”

Kat reaches for her hand. The two of them exchange a fierce, determined sss warrior look that I really hope I’m never the subject of.

I’m starting to get the feeling I’d better keep all my ducks in a row or I’ll get my ass kicked six ways to Sunday by three best girlfriends.

Which is all kinds of awesome.

Nico catches my eye and grins.

I duck my head and hide my smile by rubbing my hand over my jaw.

“All right. We’ve loitered long enough, we’ll let you two squirrels get back to collecting nuts.” Nico stands, and so do the rest of us.

“Dude. What is it with you and the squirrel comparisons? Do we look like a couple of rodents?”

Grace says, “It’s because they’re so cute, right?”

Kat wrinkles her nose. “They carry the plague!”

Nico says, “Really? I thought rats carried the plague.”

Barney chimes in helpfully. “They do, and so do squirrels, rabbits, and camels.”

Everyone looks at him.

He shrugs, tapping his temple. “Got a lot of useless trivia up here. If you ever need to know which product was the first to have a bar code, I’m your man.”

Grace says, “That’s easy. Wrigley’s gum.”

Barney looks surprised. “Correct. How’d you know that?”

She answers, “The same way I know how many cars and lampposts are on the back of a ten-dollar bill.”

Barney replies instantly, “Four, and eleven.”

Grace grins. “Winston Churchill was born in a ladies’ room, during a dance.”

Super cocky, Barney shoots back, “A cat has thirty-two muscles in each ear.”

Now I’m starting to get nervous. I blurt, “Al Capone’s business card said he was a used furniture dealer!”

Grace turns to me, grinning even wider. “Oh yeah? Well, elephants are the only land mammals that can’t jump.”

“I thought white men were the only land mammals that couldn’t jump,” says Kat, and everyone starts to laugh.

Thank God, because I’m only just beginning to get my feet wet with this whole “no jealousy” exercise, and listening to Grace and Barney play trivial pursuit almost gave me a heart attack.

I know she wouldn’t like it, but the possessiveness I feel for her tells me unequivocally how serious I am. She’s mine. I mean, I know she’s not mine mine, I’m a liberated guy, she’s her own person, nobody owns anyone, that’s not what I’m saying.

Oh f**k it, who am I kidding? I’m saying she’s mine and I’ll pound any motherfucker who tries to get between us.

Grace looks at me.