Free A Face in the Crowd by Christina Kirby Page B

When did you two get so grown up?”
    Bailey stroked his chin and Oliver didn’t miss the mischievous glint that appeared in his eyes. “It must’ve been after the night we spent in jail in Taiwan. Prison really does change a man.”
    “Bailey!”
    Lexie breezed into Bailey’s room and tried to ignore the little flutter in the pit of her stomach at the sight of Oliver. “Hi, Bailey. How’re you feeling today? Hanging in there?”
    He was sitting up with his legs dangling over the side of his bed. “I’m doing okay.”
    Lexie nodded toward the acoustic guitar in his hands. “Have you guys been hard at work?”
    Oliver tapped the edge of a pad of paper resting on his lap. “We were just fooling around. Trying to grab some inspiration while it lasted.”
    “Where’s Cathy?”
    “Don’t worry,” Oliver smirked, “she went back to the house for a few minutes.”
    Relief and annoyance converged inside Lexie. She hated how easily she’d let Cathy ruffle her and how obvious it must’ve been. She was usually much better with family members. “How’s the song writing coming?”
    “I think we found one that’ll work.” Oliver raised his arms and folded his hands behind his head. The motion showed off his biceps and the line of skin between his jeans and his gray T-shirt.
    Lexie’s stomach muscles jumped in response.
    “So,” Bailey set his guitar down and laid back in the bed. “What kind of torture do you have in store for me this afternoon?”
    Lexie breathed a silent sigh of relief at the distraction. “I need you to pee in a cup.”
    “How about not?”
    “Well, if you want to make it difficult, I could always get a catheter and do it myself.”
    “I bet you’d like that.” Bailey wriggled his eyebrows at her, which from someone else might’ve annoyed her, but she knew it was just Bailey being Bailey. Humor was his way of dealing with the unpleasantness of the situation.
    “I bet you wouldn’t, you haven’t seen the size of the needle.”
    He blanched and she smiled as she walked around to the far side of his bed to change out one of his IV bags with a new round of chemo. As she turned to go, a clump of hair on his pillow caught her attention. It was beginning.
    He followed her gaze toward the pillow and his smile vanished. His usual joviality faded as the reality of what was coming set in. She’d seen it before in a thousand other patients, but it never got easier. Her heart ached for him as she reached for the hair and threw it in the trash. Bailey just kept staring at the spot where it had been.
    “Bailey,” she said as gently as possible, “You knew this was going to happen. It’s just a side effect of the medicine. It won’t last forever.”
    “Yeah. Yeah, I know,” his voice was quiet. “I’m really tired. Are you done for now?”
    She nodded.
    Oliver, who’d watched their exchange from the chair, remained quiet.
    “Hey, Olie, you should get out of here, too. I’m going to rest for a while.” Bailey laid his head back and closed his eyes.
    “Okay,” Oliver stood, a crease formed between his eyes as he looked at his brother. “I’ll be back in later.”
    After they stepped out into the hall, Oliver stopped and leaned against it, head down. She glanced in both directions and then laid gentle fingers on his bicep. “He’s okay. His reaction is perfectly normal. It just takes time.”
    “Rationally, I know you’re right, but I hate seeing him like this.” Oliver met her eyes. “I wanted to say it’s just hair, but I know that’s not what was bothering him. Hell, he’s shaved his head half a dozen times over the course of his life. He doesn’t care.”
    “A lot of times this is what it takes for the patient to grasp the situation—that first tangible sign. The nausea can be controlled fairly well with anti-nausea medication, so in some ways the sickness doesn’t seem real until the hair loss begins.”
    She hated it for him and wanted to put her arms around him and