Good Girl (Alphahole Roommates 2)

“Sorry to interrupt your game,” I say.

“We can play later, right?” he asks the girl. She smiles at him and then shoots me a dirty look.

“This is my sister, Jada.”

Her dirty look clears and she holds out a hand.

“Nice to meet you.”

I shake it and then Shane and I take a walk, Dr. Lexington following.

Austin’s waiting for me in a coffee shop across the street with his laptop, working. I told him it wasn’t necessary to even come, but he insisted. He told me to text when I’m done and he’ll meet me out front.

We’re taken to Dr. Lexington’s office and she asks if she can stay.

Shane agrees, looking confused.

“Your sister has some bad news for you, and I think it’s better if I’m here, for both of you.”

Shane frowns as he sits down on one of the chairs.

“It’s about Dad, Shane.”

Shane rolls his eyes.

“Dad passed away.”

Shane frowns and blinks a couple times.

“He had a mild stroke, so I went to stay with him and help him and we’re still waiting for the report, but they think he had another one, a massive one, and that’s what did it.”

He grabs his mouth and holds it a second and then his hand scrubs up and down his face. He’s processing.

He rises and paces the room, blowing out deep exhales and flexing his fingers over and over.

“He’s only 53. How can he be dead of a stroke at that age?” he asks.

My eyes bounce between him and his doctor, but she’s just watching, looking alert but not making any moves, not saying anything.

So I speak instead.

“Because he lived like crap, so his body was aging fast, I guess. He never went to the doctor so if there were warning signs with his cholesterol, blood sugar, or whatever, he-”

Shane comes back and grabs me and hugs me close. “Are you okay?” he asks me.

I take a deep breath. “It was hard. Um… I went to the funeral home this morning and made all the arrangements. I booked it for Friday, hoping you can come. I don’t know if you’ll be allowed or if that’s enough time to set everything up, but your doctor said she’d try to get permission – if you want to go.”

Dr. Lexington nods. “I’m working on it, Shane. It should be no problem. There will be a police escort, and I’ll attend as well.”

He flexes his jaw and kisses my cheek. “I’ll be there. For you. Not so much for him. I’ve got a lot of anger toward him, anger to work through, but I’ll come.” He nods. “I’ll come so that when I find my peace, I won’t regret not going, and most of all, for you. Sorry you had to deal alone, Jayjay.”

Shane looks and sounds more ‘here’ than the last time I saw him.

He sits down and takes a couple deep breaths.

“Thank you. But that’s not everything,” I say.

He leans forward and holds my hand, waiting, patiently. Looking like he’s calmer now.

“I found information in his dresser about Mom.”

Shane straightens, looking like he’s bracing.

“She died two years after she left. He never told us.” My voice hitches and I take a steadying breath.

“How?”

“She got hit by a car. I found a bunch of newspaper clippings. I think Dad found out about it when he was reading a newspaper. She was a Jane Doe until he must have identified her.”

“Two years?” he asks.

I nod.

“She still left us alone for two years.” His eyes widen.

I nod.

He blows out a breath, and then he pulls me close. I wrap my arms around my brother. He starts to cry.

I cry, too.

Dr. Lexington gives us a box of Kleenex and waits, with patience, as my brother and I cry for a good long time. She disappears a few minutes later briefly and returns with two bottles of water for us.

When Shane finally pulls away, he looks me in the eyes.

“Thank you for being the best baby sister in the galaxy. I hate that I’m in here and you’re dealing with this alone. I hate that I dragged you down with me. That I stole from you. That I left you struggling to take care of us. I should’ve taken care of us.”

“Stop it. I don’t regret being there for you. But I know you’re capable of standing on your own two feet, Shane. That’s what I want. For us to be there for each other and to be able to stand on our own as well. Does that make sense?”

“Yeah. It does. How are you? Really?” he asks.

“I’ve got some … friends being there for me,” I say.

“Good.” He hugs me again.

His doctor speaks up and tells us we’ll have to wrap up our visit, that she’ll call me tomorrow or the day after to confirm she’s able to successfully set up Shane getting to come to the funeral. She tells us he’ll only be allowed to attend the actual service. No reception afterwards.