My brother looked over at me. “What would you do?”
“I already told you. I’d do it. You don’t want it to get even bigger and have it burst during the surgery like Dad’s did. And you’re already struggling to get around. Do you want to live like that?”
“No, but I do want to live.”
I shook my head. “You know my stance. If you can’t live like you want, you’re already dying.”
Austin looked at me a long time before nodding and turning back to the doctor. “How soon can you do it?”
Dr. Wallace smiled. “Let me get with the scheduling nurse and see when the next available date is.”
“Thank you very much, Dr. Wallace,” Mom said.
He nodded. “Oh, one other thing. I’m not sure if Dr. Jasper spoke to you about this, but Max and any other children should also be scanned.”
“Scanned for abdominal aortic aneurysms?”
Dr. Wallace nodded. “Aneurysms in general. Your husband had one, and now Austin. When two or more first-degree relatives have them, we recommend the immediate family members—parents and children—be tested. There’s an increased risk of other members having what we call familial aneurysms.”
CHAPTER 29
* * *
Max
“I bought tickets to that charity hockey exhibition game you’re playing in next week,” Mom said. “I thought I’d fly down the day before and stay a few days so I can see your new place.”
“I told you they gave me tickets for free. It just slipped my mind to forward you the email.”
“It’s for charity. I wanted to pay for them.”
I nodded and poked at the pot roast she made every time I visited. It was usually my favorite.
“Are you okay, Max?”
“Yeah, I’m fine.”
My mother leveled me with what my brothers and I had called the mom eyes growing up. Those things were better than truth serum. None of us had any idea how she did it, but with one look, she pulled whatever was lurking inside us out. It was like she knew the truth, and she just waited patiently for us to spill it.
I sighed and dragged a hand through my hair. “I miss Georgia.”
Mom patted my hand. “What happened? I thought you two were doing so well and had something special.”
I shrugged. “We did.”
“So why are you missing her? Get on a plane and go visit. Practice doesn’t start for a while yet, right?”
“Yeah. But she doesn’t want to see me.”
“Did you two have a falling out or something?”
I shook my head. “It’s nothing like that.”
“Then what is it?”
I frowned and looked up at my mother. “I don’t want her to get hurt. If…you know.”
Understanding dawned on her face. “Oh, no, Max. Have you discussed things with her?”
I didn’t even have to answer. I just looked at my mom, and she shut her eyes.
“Max.” She shook her head. “Why didn’t you tell her?”
“Because Georgia is as loyal and pigheaded as they come. She’d be adamant that it didn’t matter. But it would…if.”
“So you made the choice for her?”
“It was for her own good.”
“Bullshit.”
I blinked a few times. My mother did not curse.
“I stood by your decision to not have the surgery because it’s your body and your choice. I stood by your decision to keep playing hockey—even though it’s the dumbest thing you could possibly do because you get whacked in the head a hundred times a season and that could easily cause a rupture and kill you—because hockey has been the love of your life since you could talk. But I will not sit here and accept that you are going to walk away from a woman you care about out of some false sense of chivalry to protect her. Do you love Georgia?”
I nodded and hung my head.
“Then how can you have no regard for her needs? There were two people in your relationship, yet you’re acting like you’re the only one.”
“I’m trying to do the right thing, Ma. I want what’s best for her.”
She sat back down and took a deep breath. “I understand that your intentions were honorable, but you don’t get to decide what’s best for anyone but you. Don’t you think I wanted to decide you couldn’t play hockey because it was too risky? What if I’d gone to your team and told them about your condition? They’d have disqualified you from playing. You know they would—”
“That’s different.”
“Why?”
“Because what I’m doing is only hurting myself.”
My mother stared at me. “Really? So if you drop dead on the ice after a stick to the head, the only one who would be hurt is you?”
I sighed. My head had been so screwed up since leaving New York. I’d lost Georgia and then Otto died—right when he’d finally decided to leave work and spend time with his family. I couldn’t help but think he never got the chance because he waited too long, and I was essentially doing the same damn thing. Never once, since Austin died, had I questioned whether I was making the right decision. Until recently.