Page 17 of Drive
“It’s a Rickenbacker Frying Pan, the first commercially made electricguitar.”
Jacques’s head whipped to face her. “Noshit?”
She shrugged again, and this time Jacques caught a hint of impatience. “Yeah, my dad bought it at an auction. He’s…” Her voice trailed off as she frowned and searched for the words. “…kind of obsessed with blueshistory.”
“Really?” He walked over to the counter and leaned his elbows against it, hoping she’d see that he was much more interested in looking at her than at any old guitar. Even the granddaddy of electricguitars.
She tucked the coffee basket into the brewer and grabbed the carafe. “Yeah, so much, he named us after bluesicons.”
“Rainey?”he asked, testing her name with a frown. “I don’t get it. Like I said yesterday, I’m not really intoblues.”
She smiled then, looking pleased, and she carried the carafe to the kitchen sink and started fillingit.
“Ma Rainey, or…” Rainey tilted her head and proceeded to recite. “…Gertrude Malissa Nix Pridgett Rainey. She’s considered the Mother of the Blues. I guess Rainey is better than Gertrude, Nix, or Pridgett, but I would have been okay withMalissa.”
Jacques shook his head. “Rainey is way better than Malissa,” he avowed. “Rainey isunforgettable.”
He watched a blush stain her cheeks as the carafe filled. He discovered he liked making her blush. Jacques wanted the chance to do it again. She moved back to the coffeemaker and poured the water into thereservoir.
“My sister is Billie Holiday Reeves,” she said, seeming to shake off his words. “But everyone calls herHoli.”
“Is she older or younger?” he asked, glad she was sharing part of herhistory.
“She’s six months older,” she said, and when his face betrayed his confusion, she shrugged again. “She’s my half-sister.”
“Oh,” he said stupidly as if this news clarified things. Six monthsolder?
“It’s a long story,” she said, easily reading his expression. “Suffice it to saymusiciansaren’t really the most steadfast ofmen.”
Jacques winced at the way she’d hissed the wordmusicians.She’d said it with so much disdain he felt the air leave hislungs.
“I’m going to um…” she started, without looking at him. “I’ve been in these clothes since yesterday. I’m going to go change while this brews.Okay?”
“Sure, yeah,” he stammered, glad for a minute to get his head together. He watched her cross the living room and skip up the stairs, a sight he liked a lot more than he should have. Then he stood staring atnothing.
How the hell am I going to tellher?
Chapter 6
Rainey flewto her closet and proceeded to peel off her clothes. No time for a shower — though she needed one. She’d just have to make do with a bar of soap and awashcloth.
Her thoughts were running along those lines when she sped into her bathroom and caught sight of herreflection.
“Oh, holyhell.”
The barrette she’d clipped into her hair the day before had clearly fallen down on the job. What little she’d slept that night had occurred in the armchair of Holi’s hospital room, and itshowed.
And now, looking at her reflection, she remembered thecrying.
“Oh, Rainey, you idiot.” She grabbed a clean washcloth from the frosted glass shelf above her bathroom counter, turned on the hot water, and got to work on the dregs of mascara and eyeliner. She never wore much, but even the little she did was bound to smear when she couldn’t keep the tears at bay after hearing Holi’sdiagnosis.
The hematologist, Dr. Lambert, had gone over everything yesterday with the three of them — Holi, Ash, and herself. It wasn’t a death sentence, she’d stressed — probably for Rainey’s benefit — but hearing that it was life-threatening had been enough to tip her over theedge.
She’d pulled herself together and listened. They’d have to run more tests and then further tests to try to identify the cause of her aplastic anemia, which ranged from anything from exposure to toxins to viral infections to autoimmune disorders. Dr. Lambert had been honest about the fact that they might never know the cause, but that knowing would help them better treatHoli.
For now, the protocol was to continue what they were already doing, blood transfusions, antibiotics, and antivirals to help Holi fight her pneumonia and keep her from getting sick with somethingelse.
Dr. Lambert had gone over the worst-case scenarios — if they could not identify the root cause or if the root cause did not respond to treatment. And Rainey didn’t want to think about those. She could only comfort herself with the fact that Holi was in good hands; she was getting the care she needed with the information they had, and they’d move forward fromhere.
