Leftovers With Benefits: An Interracial Contemporary Romance

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Leftovers With Benefits: An Interracial Contemporary Romance Page 19

by C. L. Donley


  Kenya slammed the slow cooker down from the raised position over her head, and it landed in the middle of the floor with a heavy crash.

  The aroma of nutmeg and cinnamon enveloped the house as the splatters of sweet potatoes fanned out with force.

  “Kenya, what the fuck!” her brother exclaimed, horrified at her rash behavior. Her mother checked on all the grandkids to make sure they hadn’t caught a stray shard of slow cooker. Her sister just shook her head with closed eyes as if she were hopeless.

  Cecil just held both his hands up in surrender, proclaiming his innocence, awkwardly trying to bring humor to a humorless situation.

  Her nieces were screaming, hoping there was some way to salvage the sweet potatoes.

  Kenya didn’t see any of that. Apologies would have to wait, when she wasn’t being pushed to her limit. She was too hot to even pay attention to the commotion behind her as she turned right back around and walked out, slamming the front door.

  * * *

  Lindsey wheeled herself to the recovery room later that evening.

  “I’m here to see Kevin Hayes?”

  “Sorry but visiting hours are over.”

  “I’m his wife. I was admitted earlier for complications from a pregnancy. It was our first child,” she said, getting choked up.

  “You’re his wife?”

  “That’s right.”

  “We’re under strict orders not to let you see Mr. Hayes.”

  “Strict orders? By whom?”

  “By the Administrator on duty,” said Gwen.

  “Surely there’s someone I can talk to.”

  “Absolutely. When visiting hours are back on.”

  “When will that be?”

  “Probably by the time you’re discharged. Mrs. Hayes.”

  “Fine, then I will be back here tomorrow. What’s your name, miss?”

  “Oh I won’t be here tomorrow. I think Nurse Kenya Hamilton will be on duty, you can talk to her,” Gwen said. It was a lie, but Gwen just wanted to trigger her. Desk duty was so boring.

  “Over my dead body!” she said as she needlessly wheeled herself away.

  “And stop wasting our wheelchairs, bitch,” Gwen said under her breath as she smirked.

  15

  Chapter 15

  Kevin woke up, not knowing how or where he was. He assumed he was lying on a bed. There was a man talking to him. Telling him where he was going to cut him open.

  “We’re going to make two incisions in your abdomen. If I can’t get it that way, I’m gonna have to cut you straight down the middle, okay?”

  He must already be out. No way is he having an actual dialogue about cutting himself open right now.

  “Do you understand?”

  Understand? What choice did he have about anything, exactly?

  He simply nodded. Then everything went black again.

  When he awoke, he was in another bed, his mouth dry and in pain. He heard someone shuffling around in his room.

  “Kenya?”

  “Kenya works downstairs. I’m your nurse, Helena. She told me to let her know when you were awake.”

  “Water,” he begged.

  She grabbed a drab looking plastic pitcher of melted ice chips and raised the straw to his lips. It was the last thing he remembered.

  When he woke again he was able to move a bit more. He looked around the room, one wall was glass with open blinds and faced the nurse’s station only a few feet away. The opposite wall had windows facing the outside. The sun shone through a bit. It was late morning, that clean slate look was still in the sky. It apparently snowed during the night. He could barely remember it being cold enough to snow.

  Suddenly he noticed a figure in the far corner. It was Kenya, sleeping on the spacious room’s cheap looking couch. She was sound asleep and had a polka dot scarf on her head, as though she’d come straight from home. He studied her face while she slept, a warm feeling of belonging washing over him.

  She didn’t hate him, at least. She must’ve been worried. It felt like the first day of the rest of his life. He watched her a bit longer before he was interrupted. He turned his head in the direction of the opening door.

  “Someone’s finally awake,” his nurse said.

  “How long have I been out?”

  “Well, you’ve been out since I’ve been here, and Helena told me the same thing so… at least twenty four hours.”

  “I’m starving.”

  The nurse shook her head pitifully. “Sucks for you. Liquid diet only, I’m afraid.”

  “Grape popsicle or orange?”

  Kevin turned to see the source of Kenya’s husky morning voice.

  “Don’t forget cherry,” the nurse added.

  “No one likes the cherry.”

  “Let’s start with orange,” Kevin answered.

  “See?”

  “Can you imagine rupturing your appendix on Thanksgiving?” the nurse directed at Kenya, “all those leftovers,” she woefully mused as she shook her head.

  “Bad timing for sure,” Kenya agreed, glancing in his direction. He kept his gaze on her, fondly.

  “Well, I’ll give you two some privacy,” the nurse said, smirking. “I’ll be back with an orange popsicle. Anything else you need?”

  “No. thanks,” Kevin replied, pressing the button on his bed to make himself upright.

  Quietly the nurse shuffled back out, letting the door latch.

  “Hi,” he smiled.

  “Hi,” she smiled.

  “You look good.”

  “Thanks.”

  “Like you lost weight,” he elaborated.

  “Geez, you noticed that?”

  He smiled, slowly blinking as he nodded.

  “Retired the slow cooker,” she said. “Then I… broke it. Irreparably. I’m into salads now.”

  “I don’t know how I feel about that,” he said, forlorn. She laughed.

  “The end of an era,” she replied.

  Kevin assessed his surroundings a bit.

  “I have to assume that I’m wearing a catheter right now.”

  “Correct.”

  Kevin sighed. “How long am I in here for?”

  “Best case scenario: a week.”

  “That’s not too bad. At least I’ll get to see you everyday.”

  Kenya huffed a laugh.

  “If it’s not too busy. I hate being here on my day off, by the way. You’re lucky I like you.”

  “You like me?”

  Kenya nodded.

  “Your family was here a little while ago.”

  “My family?”

  “Your brother and his wife. Your parents.”

  “My dad??”

  “Apparently.”

  “Jeez.”

  “Your brother… seemed to know who I was.”

  “Oh no.”

  “Yeah.”

  Kevin faced forward and concentrated on a random spot on the wall.

  “I didn’t happen to say some… pretty desperate things to you the other night, did I?”

  Kenya couldn’t help snickering.

  “You don’t remember.”

  “No I do, but it feels kinda like it was a dream.”

  “Maybe we should compare notes?”

  “I just remember trying to tell you how sorry I am…” he laid back on his pillow, shaking his head as he closed his eyes.

  “I’m sorry about what happened,” Kenya began, trying not to get emotional. “I couldn’t be more sorry.”

  He sighed as his head rolled straight ahead against the pillow, his eyes looking sleepier than usual and haunted.

  “Maybe I deserved it. For what I did to you.”

  “You’re talking crazy.”

  “I just mean…I let a selfish woman back into my life. And, of course, she railroaded me.”

  “She might seriously be mentally ill, Kevin.”

  “I think I knew that. I think everyone knew it before I did.”

  “You see the best in people.”r />
  “I’m an idiot.”

  “You’re not. There’s nothing stupid about meaning your vows.”

  “I love you.”

  Kenya was silent. This time she didn’t reject the idea outright.

  “Why?” she asked. “How do you know?”

  “Because every moment I was back with Lindsey proved it to me,” he said, the name now powerless out of his mouth. “Because you’re here now and I feel… right. I should be an emotional wreck right now, but I don’t feel any pain.”

  “You’re also on some pretty stellar meds right now,” Kenya downplayed.

  “You were there for me,” he continued, “when my entire life blew up yours was the first face I saw. And you were sweet and smiling, even after all that… shit.”

  “You were a stranger,” she smiled at the memory. “What, I was gonna cuss you out?”

  “Maybe. You could have. Could’ve tried to sue me or something. Could’ve made me your enemy. Could’ve played the victim. But you were nice. You were actually concerned about me. Then you fed me food. You gave me head.”

  Kenya laughed.

  “I’m serious. You’re a fucking good person.”

  “So I’m basically the good Samaritan, with sex.”

  “You restored my humanity. You restored my passion.”

  Kenya squirmed internally. His feelings were on display again. She in turn made an attempt at transparency.

  “Well that’s… I’m touched. Really.”

  “I don’t love her anymore. My wife.”

  “It doesn’t work like that,” she said, mirroring his words.

  “It does for me. The moment she came back I knew it was over. And then I gave it all I had. And she just…took it. That’s it. I gave her all the love I’m going to give her,” he said as he lowered his bed back down. He was going to sleep some more and he could feel it.

  “Love was a different concept to me when I married her. I loved her because she gave me that feeling, and I knew that I could have that feeling for her forever, no matter what. It didn’t matter if she was right for me. I figured if she let me be the one to love her, then she wouldn’t be disappointed.”

  He stared off into space as he was quiet for a long time.

  “But it was like, the more I loved her, the less she believed it. That wasn’t true, but…that’s what I thought it was. That’s what it looked like to me. I was killing myself trying to make her believe it, but that was never the problem.”

  He reached out for Kenya to take his hand, and she did, her composure slowly crumbling. It’d been a hard holiday season. The various machine automated beeps and breaths filled the silence until he spoke again.

  “But I love you because… because it’s what I want to do with my life. I know that I can, and I know that I should. You’re beautiful. In a real way. I don’t see how any man could miss that.”

  His voice grew gravelly with sleep. Kenya wiped a tear.

  “Which is why you don’t have to say it back. I love you. Because loving you is… being myself,” he mumbled, his eyes half closed. “I’m loving someone who’s decent and it feels good, it fuels me. Even if you don’t love me back. So… I’m just gonna… do it. Regardless. Okay?”

  “Okay,” Kenya laughed as she nodded. Feeling a bit overwhelmed. “You almost died last night, you know that? Your blood pressure dropped when they were closing you up. You know how furious I would’ve been with you if you would’ve left me?”

  Kevin didn’t answer back.

  He was already out. The machines took over the cacophony of sound like electric crickets.

  Say ‘I love you,’ that same voice in her head was urging her.

  Only this time, there was a new man.

  The terror rose, the fear that she would make the same mistakes all over again, that even with everything he’d shown her, one day he could tell her the same thing. “I’m done.”

  “Well, since you’re unconscious…I may as well get the practice in,” she began as she took a deep breath. She moistened her lips.

  “Kevin. Hayes. I… love… I think that I am falling—shit. Okay…” she took another breath. “It’s so hard to say this when you’re not having sex.”

  She cleared her throat. “Okay, I… love… you. I do. Yeah. That feels true. I love you, Kevin. I love you…”

  She repeated it and her tone became soft. She noticed an oddity in the heart monitor. She looked up at it and noticed it was indeed increasing every second or so.

  That bastard wasn’t even asleep!

  She donned a smirk as she scooted her chair forward and got close to his face.

  “I know you can hear me, Specialist Hayes. I love you, okay? And if you ever put a baby in me, I’m keeping it.”

  The heart monitor accelerated its rhythm until it started beeping. Kenya laughed as the nurse on duty entered the room armed with an orange popsicle. Kevin’s eyes remained closed, a slight grin on his face.

  * * *

  The doctor recommended he stay for two weeks. Kenya visited him as often as she could during work and on her days off. After a week the catheter was out. He was making laps around the hospital floor, charming the staff and gaining his strength, not to mention his mojo.

  “Nurse Hamilton,” he said, the title almost exclusively followed by a lewd suggestion.

  Kenya sat cross legged on the couch in the corner, flipping channels on his TV, pretending not to hear.

  “Nurse Hamilton,” he calmly repeated. She melted into giggles. She intentionally tried not to look over at him.

  “What?”

  When he didn’t respond, she caved. She looked over and laughed aloud as he pointed to his own erection. She hastily returned her attention to the tv, refusing to look again.

  “Nurse Hamilton.”

  “Shut up.”

  “I need a hand.”

  “No.”

  “You took an oath, Nurse Hamilton,” he guilted her as she sauntered over to his bedside all smiles.

  “To do no harm. That means no choking.” She didn’t bother telling him that nurses don’t take the oath. He tried to grab her arm repeatedly and she eluded him.

  “How long ‘til I get out of here?”

  “Four days. And no engaging in vigorous activity.”

  “There’s nothing vigorous about sitting on my face, is there?”

  “Not for you.”

  His sleepy eyes widened for a second and she giggled. He successfully grabbed her arm and pulled her closer.

  “You wanna ride on my face until you cum?” he asked in a low voice.

  “God, what are they putting in your IV?” she scoffed as she sat across him in his hospital bed, her body getting ready at his words.

  “Close the blinds.”

  “You realize everyone knows what that means when I’m in here.”

  “I love you.”

  “You’ve told me.”

  “You need a new last name, Nurse Hamilton.”

  She raised an eyebrow.

  “You wouldn’t even have to get rid of your necklace. Or change your tattoo.”

  She stifled a grin as she looked down, feeling a bit bashful.

  “So you’ve thought about this.”

  “Of course. You haven’t?”

  “Why would I?”

  “Because you love me.”

  “The last person I married turned into a completely different person.”

  “Ditto.”

  “You really wanna be married again?”

  “Are you kidding? Aside from the manipulation, deceit and betrayal I loved being married.”

  Kenya sighed as she nodded.

  “We’ll see.”

  “Nurse Hayes?” he said, trying it on as though it were a garment. She looked down at his groin.

  “I can see that it makes you very happy.”

  “Is it weird that I want you to give me a shot?”

  Kenya laughed as she nodded.

  Epilogue

  On
his way home from work, Kevin stopped at the grocery store, picking up a handful of things for his wife.

  She’d sent him a text with a list of items to pick up that’d grown steadily from two things to six in a manner of hours: garbage bags, enchilada seasoning packet (not taco), syrup, paper towels, wine of your choice, pickles.

  Just now, he was thinking of how he was going to break the news that he would not be bringing home wine.

  Most of him wanted to just say he forgot it, but it was much too early in the marriage to be lying. She was gonna be pissed if he told her the truth, especially since she was an actual medical professional.

  But that was the thing, maybe she was just a bit too close. It would be like him inviting her to come to the shooting range when he knew she was scared of guns. He knew she would be safe, but is that really the point?

  Yeah, that’s good. Open with that, he thought.

  “Kevin Hayes!” he suddenly heard an enthusiastic female voice behind him, somewhat familiar. He turned around.

  “Henley Graves,” he said, less enthusiastically. “Fancy meeting you here.”

  He hadn’t seen or heard from Lindsey in three years, but he found it suspicious that he would run into her sister. Perhaps she was doing re-con work for her.

  He followed through with putting a restraining order on Lindsey. After he’d recovered from the hospital, she came to the house as though he’d never said a thing, claiming she’d still had a few things left there.

  “It’s Henley Hamilton, now,” she said, straight faced. “You look great! How are things?”

  For a moment, his mind went blank at the mention of her new last name, but he recovered, pretending as though she hadn’t said what she said.

  “Uh, good. You know, working. This and that.”

  “Don’t be modest now, I heard you and Kenya got married!”

  “And how on Earth did you hear that, Henley?”

  “Oh, you know. We still have a few mutual acquaintances, Kevin.”

  Initially the only people that knew Kevin and Kenya were married were the couple themselves and the Justice of the Peace. Once Kenya started referring to herself as Nurse Hayes, it naturally followed that the cat would slowly leave the bag.

  Kenya hadn’t wanted a wedding, or even a ring. Part of it was a superstition that had inadvertently crept into her heart about marriage. She didn’t want to do anything the same way she’d done before, including celebrate. She didn’t really want to or care to hear what her friends and family thought about the two of them or how they met, or whether or not they had their blessings.

 

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