Page 98 of The Auction
Shanae is standing by the check-in desk when we walk in, clutching her phone, relief washing over her face. “Well you two got here fast,” she says, waving us through the waiting room.
Mom looks up from the wheelchair, and her whole face brightens at the sight of us—like the pain and fear disappear just for a second. My chest tightens so hard it’s almost painful.
But when I see her, the breath nearly leaves my lungs. She’s thinner than the last time I was here—only a few days ago, but she can’t afford to loseanyweight. Her clothes hang looser, her cheeks are a little more hollow.
I bite down on the shock, force a smile like nothing’s wrong. She doesn’t need my fear on top of whatever she’s dealing with. The way Jaxon’s fingers tighten around mine tells me he noticestoo. He doesn’t say anything—he just stays solid and steady beside me.
The ER feels quieter now. Mom’s sitting on the edge of the bed, looking more like herself, a faint blush back in her cheeks.
The doctor explains she had a drop in blood pressure when standing up too quickly—likely made worse because of dehydration from the chemo and radiation. Not uncommon, nothing life-threatening today, but it caused the dizzy spell that scared Shanae.
They gave her fluids, adjusted a few medications, and want her to follow up with her oncologist in three days.
Jaxon’s been keeping Mom laughing for the last hour—ridiculous one-liners, exaggerated stories, even trying to convince her that hospital pudding isMichelin starquality. I appreciate it more than he’ll ever know. Every smile he gets out of her feels like a victory.
When he excuses himself to the bathroom, the nurse comes in with a clipboard and a stack of papers. Shanae steps forward instantly.
“I’ll take care of those,” she says, then glances at me. “Go sit with your mama for a bit.”
I drag my chair closer to the bed, slipping my hand into Mom’s and resting my head on it. She strokes my hair like she’s done since I was little, slow, and soothing, like she can calm every ache with just her touch.
“So, you and Jackie?” she asks softly.
I lift my head a little. “Hm?”
“Jaxon.” Her mouth curves. “I saw him holding your hand. Is something going on there?”
I open my mouth, close it again. “Oh, I… don’t know.”
She leans back against the pillows, studying me with that all-seeing mom gaze. “I’m not surprised. Honestly, I’m more surprised it’s taken this long. That boy has always looked at you like you hung the moon.”
“No he hasn’t.” My throat tightens, and I let out a watery laugh.
“A mother know’s these things.” She keeps rubbing my head and I let the words settle a moment.
“So, if he were my boyfriend… would you approve?”
She smiles, warm and sure. “I couldn’t hand-pick someone better for you. He may not show it outright, but I know what a man in love looks like. And Jaxon Kane has got it bad. Your father looked at me like that for decades.”
That makes my stomach twist—not entirely in a good way. Mom notices instantly, her hand stilling on mine.
“When Sandy applied to work for us,” she says quietly, “she and Jaxon were in a real bad way. I didn’t care if Sandy could do the work or not. I wasn’t going to turn them away. Paid her double the listing and gave her an advance.”
She pauses, her thumb brushing over my knuckles. “I never knew the details of their life before, but I saw how hollow Jaxon’s eyes were. He was such a sad little boy.”
She squeezes my hand. “But his mama saved him. Showed him what love’s supposed to look like. And I hope he saw that in our home too. I know he’s got a lot of love to give.”
My chest aches, the weight of her words pressing into me.
“I know it might seem strange because you’ve known each other so long,” she says gently, “but if you feel it in your heart, baby… follow it.”
The door swings open, and there’s Jaxon, rolling Mom’s wheelchair in like he’s just come up with the cure for boredom. Shanae’s right behind him, clearly in on whatever scheme he’s cooking up.
“I’ve got a great idea, Lilly,” he says, all mock-seriousness as he parks the chair beside the bed. “We steal another wheelchair and you and me race to the car.”
Shanae snorts. “Lord, you’re ridiculous.”
I can’t help it—I chuckle, and Mom throws her covers off with a sparkle in her eye. “Please, boy.”
