Susan Mallory - Sizzling

Dani sucked in a breath, then flipped open the folder. The top sheet of paper showed a picture of a man in his early fifties. His face was handsome, smiling and incredibly familiar.

Shock held her frozen. She couldn't read the words underneath or bring herself to turn the page. She looked back at Gloria.

"Mark Canfield?" she asked, her voice breathless. "Senator Canfield?"

"Yes."

"He's my father?"

"Yes."

Dani didn't know what to think. "He's running for president. Of the United States. You're telling me my father is running for president?"

"His campaign is still in the exploratory stage, but that's what I've heard."

Dani sank back into the chair and tried to catch her breath. She couldn't get her mind around this life-altering reality.

"I can't believe it," she murmured. "Mark Canfield? I know who he is. I voted for him."

"I'm sure he'll be delighted to hear that," Gloria said with a smile.

* * *

REID WOKE in the middle of the night and found himself alone in the bed. He lay there for a second before getting up and walking into the living room.

Lori sat curled up in a corner of the sofa. Outside, street light spilled through partially opened drapes and allowed him to see she was awake.

"Bad dreams?" he asked as he settled next to her.

She shrugged. "When I can sleep, which isn't often."

"You could take something."

"I'm not ready to resort to medicating myself, although I'm close to giving in on that front." She drew in a breath. "Why are you up?"

"You were gone."

She didn't answer that. He put his arm on her shoulder to draw her close, but there was a stiffness in her body that resisted his attempt to offer comfort. Uneasiness settled in his gut.

She was still deeply mourning the loss of her sister. This was hardly the time to talk about their relationship, yet he felt compelled to say something.

"You've been quiet," he told her. "I know you're going through a lot. I've been hanging around to help. Would you rather I wasn't here?"

She turned to him, her eyes dark and unreadable in the half light. "I think that would be better. I need some space right now."

It was as if she'd crawled inside his chest and drop-kicked his heart. The rejection was as sharp as it was instant. He didn't know what to think, what to say. Lori didn't want him around. Lori didn't want him.

"I, ah, okay." He stood. "I'll go."

He paused for a second, but when she didn't say anything else, he had no choice but to leave.

As he got dressed he remembered all the times she'd worried that he would be the one crushing her. Looks like she'd spent too much time worrying and he hadn't spent enough.

GLORIA THREW DOWN her napkin. "What's wrong with you? You're hanging around the house too much. Frankly, you're starting to get on my nerves."

Reid looked at his grandmother. "I can move out anytime."

She sniffed. "I'm not ready for that, but I want to know why you're so quiet and moody. While Madeline was a perfectly lovely young woman, you hardly knew her. So it can't be that."

It wasn't. "I miss Lori," he said quietly, knowing at this point there was no reason to hide from the truth. It slapped him in the face every single minute of the day. "I finally found the woman I want to be with and we can never have a relationship."

"Why on earth not? The girl's crazy about you. She has been from the beginning. I tried to warn her off, but would she listen? Of course not. Young people today."

"She's not crazy about me anymore. She barely speaks to me. About a week ago I asked her if she'd like me to stop coming around all the time, if she needed space. She said it would be better that way." He stared at his uneaten dinner. "She can't forgive me, which I understand. I can't forgive myself."

"For what?" his grandmother demanded. "What is your horrible crime?"

How could she not know? How could she want him to say it aloud? Unless this was her way of forcing him to take responsibility.

"I'm the reason Madeline died."

"You've always had a flair for the dramatic," Gloria muttered. "Dear God, Reid. You weren't in the operating room. It's not as if you ran her over with a car. How is any of this your fault?"

"I found the donor. I insisted on moving forward with that."

"So she could have a chance. The new liver was supposed to save her life."

"But it didn't," he said, feeling the helpless fury rise up inside of him. "It didn't do a damn thing. If I'd just left things alone, she could have had another year. Do you know what that year would have meant to her? To Lori and her mother?"

"I do know," Gloria told him. "But you're taking your already overdeveloped sense of self-importance a little too far. Be logical for a moment. Madeline wanted a liver transplant. You didn't force this upon her. Lori and her mother wanted it, as well. As far as they're concerned, you made a miracle happen."

"You don't know that."

"I have a good idea about it. Besides, based on what you told me, the doctor said Madeline would never have survived any major surgery. She had a heart condition no one knew about. So regardless of who found the donor, she would never have made it."

"But she wouldn't have died that day," he said heatedly. "Maybe, with time, she would have had a chance."

"Or not. You did the best you could. Reid, you put yourself up for public ridicule in an effort to save someone's life. You acted as you did with the best of intentions. No one blames you. Not even Lori."

"You don't know that."

"Of course I do. Did it ever occur to you that Lori's actions have nothing to do with you? That she and her sister have been close for years and that the loss has devastated her? Did it occur to you that she's withdrawn as a way to deal with the pain? Or maybe because she thinks you don't care enough to deal with her grief. Have you talked to her at all?"

"There's nothing to say."

Her expression tightened. "I don't remember you being this much of an idiot before. If you don't get your act together, go to her and tell her how much you love her, I'll write you out of my will."

That nearly made him smile. "I don't need your money, Gloria. I have plenty of my own."

"Fine. I'll fire you."

"I already quit."

Her eyes narrowed. "Then I'll stop loving you."

That got him. He straightened. "I didn't know you did."

She looked away. "Of course I do. You're my grandson. I've watched you grow up and become, until today, a relatively decent man."

"You've never said the words."

She sighed and returned her gaze to his face. "Fine. I love you. Are you happy?"

It kind of surprised him, but, yeah, he was happy to hear it.

He stood, walked around the table and hugged her. "I love you, too," he said.

"I know. So stop telling me and go say it to someone who matters."

* * *

LORI WAS SORRY she'd started crying the day of Madeline's funeral. It had been nearly a week and she couldn't seem to stop. She wasn't eating or sleeping. Instead she lived in a world of pain where she missed her sister in ways she hadn't thought possible.

The pain was made worse by the loss of Reid. She'd known letting him go was the only thing that made sense. He couldn't possibly want to hang out with her while she mourned, so when he'd wanted to leave, she'd let him. But as he'd been her only anchor in a swirling, scary world, now she was alone and it terrified her.

Her mother had gone back to her little trailer. All her friends gathered around her and she seemed to be doing all right. But Madeline had been one of Lori's only friends.

"I'm pathetic," Lori muttered to herself as she walked into the kitchen to make some tea. "I have to pull it all together."

She had a job. Although she'd talked to Gloria a few times, she'd yet to make a commitment on returning. Part of her knew that Gloria was well enough to survive without her. Which meant she, Lori, should start looking for another job. But where? The thought of having to deal with someone else right now, to start over at yet another house with another family, was more than she could stand.

She put a spoonful of tea leaves into the pot while she waited for the water to boil. As she reached for a mug, she almost called out to ask Madeline if she wanted tea, then remembered Madeline was gone.

The wave of agony was sharp and fresh. It cut through her, slicing away her strength until she could only collapse and slide toward the ground.

But instead of falling, she was caught in strong arms. She turned and saw Reid standing there.

Gratitude replaced a little of the pain. She threw herself at him.

"You came back."

"I had to," he said, his eyes dark with emotion. "To tell you I'm sorry. I know this is all my fault. I know I'm the reason she's gone."

The kettle began to whistle. Lori released him and turned off the burner.

His fault? How could he think that? "You don't have anything to do with Madeline dying."

"I found the donor. I pushed for the surgery. I made it happen. She wasn't ready. She made that clear. If I hadn't pushed, she could have survived another year."

Lori supposed a soft, gentle caring response was in order, but she was too stressed. She folded her arms over her chest and shook her head.

"I've always suspected you had delusions of grandeur, but I never expected this. Madeline died because her heart stopped beating. That's it. Unless you have a direct line to God and put in a request to end my sister's life, you had nothing to do with it."