by L M Terry
She places a finger over her lips and then points to Anthony.
“Really?” I say rolling my eyes at her.
She nods, fanning herself. I shake my head and walk over to set up my paints. When I look back at her she is staring at the river, that faraway look in her eye again. She puts up a good front, but I know where her mind is and that is what I am going to paint.
After hours of painting Anthony has roused and is sitting by Dorothy’s feet. He smiles at me. “Dani, come over here and have a bite to eat with us.” He stands dusting himself off and retrieving a picnic basket he had set off to the side.
I clean up my mess, my painting is finished, and I am hungry. Anthony comes over to help. He peeks at the painting and glances up at Dorothy. He clears his throat before speaking. “Dani, this is…it is touching. She is going to love it.”
I busy myself with my cleanup. “It’s nothing,” I say quickly picking my brain for something horrible to think about to squash the threating tears.
He stops me. “Hey, what’s this?”
“What’s what?”
“You know what, it’s okay to feel something besides fear you know.”
“I know, don’t be silly. I’m just trying to clean up. I’m hungry.” He nods giving me the side-eye as he hauls my stuff up to the jeep.
I leave the painting to dry on the easel and plop down by Dorothy’s feet. She leans over and pats my head like a puppy. “It will get easier, dear,” she says kindly.
“Nothing is easy,” I tell her.
“No, you are right. But, easy would be boring now wouldn’t it.”
I giggle and lay my head on her knee. “I guess it would be.”
Anthony
◆◆◆
Dani is such a talented artist, every time I look at one of her paintings it floors me. I wanted her to paint something for herself but once again she painted for Dorothy. Which is fine, Dorothy will love it I’m sure. When I get back down to the ladies she is resting her head on Dorothy’s knee and Dorothy is running her hand over her hair. Hmm, why does this strike me as familiar.
“You ladies ready to eat?” I say as chipper as I can.
Dani sits up and smiles at me. “I am starving.”
I dig through my basket handing each of them a plate filled with fresh fruit and a PB and J. Dani told me her and her dad had little painting outings on the weekends and finished them by picnicking with the all-American classic sandwich.
Dorothy seems pleased and digs right in, but Dani has shifted away from us, her plate in her lap, staring out over the river. “I thought you were starving,” I tease shoving her in the back a little.
She gives me a little laugh and glances at me quickly over her shoulder. “I am, thank you. Just enjoying the view.” She looks down at her plate and picks up the sandwich taking a bite. She cocks her head to the side and then back again as if trying to shake memories away.
Okay, okay I lied to her. Well not exactly, it’s not like I was trying to trick her but yes, I knew this might trigger her. I reach over and rub her back, but she scoots out of my reach.
“I’m fine, Anthony. This was a wonderful idea,” she says more cheerfully than her face shows.
“Do you know when my Henry was alive I used to make him peanut butter cookies every Sunday. Oh, he loved them. I would pack them in his lunch. He was logger, hard work, it was my little part of making his day better,” Dorothy reminisces.
“Dani, why don’t you show her your painting,” I encourage.
“It’s not dry.”
“That’s okay, dear. You can show me when you’re ready.” Dorothy pats my arm giving me a look that says, ‘don’t push it buddy’.
“So, I suppose next week I should share you, Dani. The others will be getting jealous with all the special treatment I am getting.”
“You are special, Dorothy,” Dani says giving the old woman a genuine smile.
“Well, I appreciate you both. This has been a wonderful day.” Dorothy sighs and stares up at the sky.
When we get back to the nursing home Dani helps me get Dorothy settled in her wheelchair, a nurse comes out to help her back inside. “We’ll be right in, Miss. Dorothy,” I yell to her as the nurse wheels her through the doors. She holds a hand up to let me know she heard me. “Let’s get your painting and I’ll hang it on her wall.”
Dani pulls it out taking a quick look at it as she hands it to me. “Here, I’ll just wait here for you.”
“Oh no, come on. Don’t you want to see her face light up when she sees it?” I tease.
“Anthony, please. I’m tired and I feel a headache coming on,” she begs.
I don’t know why I let her out of this, but I do. I tuck a stray hair behind her ear. “You’ve seemed out of it all day. Is everything okay?”
“Yes, maybe it’s allergies or something. I’ll be fine. Tell her I had a nice day and I’ll stop in next week.”
I nod and open the door for her so she can hop in the front seat. “I’ll make it quick,” I tell her.
“No hurry.”
Dorothy is waiting and when I show her the painting she tears up. “Oh, that girl, I just love her.” She watches as I hang it on her wall. It really is beautiful. Dani has a special gift. The painting is Dorothy sitting on a bench in the very area we spent the afternoon. She is looking longingly over the river and behind her is the translucent image of her late husband with his arms wrapped around her. I think I know why Dani didn’t want to show her. She has been tamping down the tears all day. This is a problem.
“Let me ask you something, Dorothy,” I say staring at the painting.
“Anything young man,” she cackles behind me.
“Have you ever seen Dani cry?” I spin around to face her.
She nods her head slowly as if coming to the same conclusion as myself. “You may be on to something, boy. Not once have I seen her cry, but then again I only see her once a week at best.”
I sigh loudly lifting my shoulders and then dropping them. “She is a mystery isn’t she?”
“She is a beautiful, broken mystery, yes. But, you are a detective type are you not? Perhaps you will be able to crack the code if we are lucky.”
I lean in and give her a peck on the cheek. “See you next week, Miss. Dorothy.”
When I get back to the jeep. Dani has her head in her hands rubbing at her temples. When she hears me open the door she straightens in the seat. “Did she like it?” she asks hesitantly.
“She loved it,” I say reaching over and taking her hand placing a kiss on the inside of her wrist.
We make the rest of the trip home in silence. Once inside Dani asks me if I would mind if she spends a little time in her art room and I allow it. Maybe she will shake this funk if I just give her some space to do so. Besides this will give me some time to do a little detective work and finalize our travel plans. I’ve decided that we will spend some time in her hometown in Iowa before heading to my friend Anna’s cabin for the fourth of July.
As I wait for her friend Lizzie to answer I get to work on my plans for the rest of the evening. After much thought, I’ve decided to give Dani the rose petals and candles after all. She deserves the perfect first time and I’m going to give it to her…that is if her mood improves before then.
“Anthony? Is everything okay with Dani. I swear you better not have upset her,” Lizzie rattles on before even giving me a chance to speak.
“She is fine. Do you ever answer the phone with I don’t know a hello maybe?” I joke.
“Hmph. What’s up Mr. Bond?”
I roar with laughter. “Oh, you are a peach. I cannot wait to meet you in person. Which happens to be why I’m calling. I have made reservations at the Econo something or another in your little town. Is this going to be acceptable to her do you think?”
“No. She is going to hate everything about you bringing her here. But, I agree she needs to face a few things and I think she needs to see her mother,” she pauses picking her words carefully, “to get
things off her chest.”
Interesting, she tip-toed through that mine field very well, she is the keeper of Dani’s secrets after all. “Anything you want to share?”
“Nope, her story is for her to tell,” she says unwaveringly.
“Does she not cry?” I ask, forgoing the opportunity to dig up info on Dani and her mother’s relationship.
“She did once,” she sighs over the phone.
“Just once? You are being very vague.”
“Well, since you already know about her father I’ll tell you. The day they buried Dani’s dad she cried for several days straight, she ended up in the hospital. She couldn’t stop. They doped her up and sent her home. I haven’t seen her cry since. Has she…I mean has she cried around you?”
“No, which is why I was asking. One more thing.”
“Yes?”
“Can I blame this whole trip on you?”
She cackles loudly over the phone. “Oh, no. This is all you. She is going to be pissed. Personally, I don’t think you will even get her here. Let’s just say I’ll believe it when I see it.”
“She bungy jumped off a bridge yesterday.” I state matter-of-factly.
“She what? Are you fucking pulling my leg?” I pull the phone away from my ear as she screams the information to Tank who is apparently in another dimension as loudly as she is screeching in my ear. “I think I need to talk to her. Have her call me tonight.”
“Tomorrow.”
“Tonight, Mr. Bond.”
I sigh. “She is resting, she has a headache. If she feels up to it I’ll have her call tonight. If not it WILL be tomorrow.”
“Okay, okay fine. She does get headaches, I believe you. Tomorrow then. I mean it,” she orders.
“Tomorrow,” I assure her. “Have a wonderful evening, Lizzie.”
“You too,” she says with a false sweetness.
She answered my questions so, I guess that little call was a win. I’m not sure if I want to meet this person or not. She sounds…a bit much.
I shower and I cook, and I do the rose petals and candles and…I wait, and I wait. Eventually I break down and knock lightly on the door. When she doesn’t answer I peek in. She is sitting in the corner of the room, sleeping in a little ball leaning against the wall. I quietly walk over to her and crouch down, brushing the hair out of her face. Her sketch book is in her lap. Oh, Dani. I rub my hand over my chest, a deep ache settling there.
She has sketched a man in his early to mid-forties. I’m assuming her father.
I lay the sketch pad on the table and carefully pick her up. I take her into the bedroom and tuck her in bed knocking rose petals to the floor. She needs sleep more than she needs romantic Anthony right now. I will just have to be put on pause for the moment. After planting a kiss on her forehead, I walk out shutting the light off. My chest is still aching, just like it does when I watch my friends with their wives. My eyes drift back to the bed, I wish more than anything that I could erase every bad thing from her mind. I walk over to the bathroom and turn the light on, then I close the door, allowing a sliver of light bleeds out into the bedroom. Offering her some light, some comfort when she awakes.
Chapter Twelve
Danielle
◆◆◆
When I wake up my head is in the dull ache stage. Crap, I hate headaches. There is no warning, they just hit me. Sometimes if I am particularly anxious I can sense them coming. Yesterday was one of those days. I thought it might go away, but it kept getting worse as the day progressed. I feel bad I ruined Anthony’s surprise. I was a Debby downer all day. As I roll over, my eye catches a dark red spot on the sheet next to me. I jump up, shit is it blood, my blood? Anthony’s blood? After closer inspection I realize it’s not blood at all but a rose petal. I pick it up and run the silky drop between my finger and thumb. Then I notice there are petals everywhere and candles. None of them lit, but I’m sure they weren’t here before.
It takes me a few minutes to pull all of my thoughts together. My headaches always leave me with a sluggish mind. Wait. He left the bathroom light on for me. Oh, no, this must have all been for me. I swallow hard, this was all for me! Rose petals and candles can only mean one thing. Fuck, I ruined not only a relaxing day by the river but a romantic evening as well. Fuck, fuck, fuck.
I hop up and head to shower, I need to rinse away the fogginess of the last few hours. What the fuck time is it anyway? I would look but he has zero clocks in this house. Which takes me to the fact that the man has my damn phone, I’ll argue with him on that one after I apologize for ruining all his plans today. Or is it yesterday now? Fuck!
After my shower, I venture out to find Anthony. Awe, he is asleep with his head resting on the breakfast bar. I tip-toe over to him and glance at his wristwatch. Shit, it’s two in the morning. Then I notice what is lying on the counter next to him.
No, Dani, stop.
I need to get out of here, fast! I need to go home. My eyes land on the keys hanging on a little board by the back door that leads to the garage. I haven’t drove in years, but this is an emergency. I have to go. Now!
I run to the board and grab the set I recognize from yesterday to the jeep. Swinging the door open I jump the steps and lunge for the jeep. My hands are shaking as I place them in the ignition, wait, the garage door. Fuck, where is the button to open the damn thing. Shit.
I detect movement in my peripheral vision and freeze.
“Dani,” Anthony’s gravelly voice warns from across the garage.
No, I have to go home. My eyes dart to the button to freedom. Once it opens I back up quickly and peel out of his driveway. As I’m driving to my apartment I realize how foolish this is, the farther I get away from Anthony the more the anxiety grows in my belly. I slam my hand into the steering wheel and flip a bitch in the middle of the road.
When I pull back into the driveway I notice everything is closed up. Wasn’t he even going to come for me? I park and go inside hanging the keys back on the board. He is sitting on the sofa, his arm dangling over the edge, a drink perched in his hand. He is facing away from me, but I know he heard me come in. I don’t know what to do, what to say. I glance over to the counter and stare at the sketch of my dad. It is now framed in the most beautiful hand-carved frame. He did that for me. I didn’t have to tell him who it was, he already knew it was my dad. Which is why I had to run. Every minute I am with him brings me closer to tears. Tears I don’t know if I will be able to stop. It is a logical fear. It has happened once, and it was awful. I can’t keep running, eventually it will happen, either with Anthony or without and at this point I would rather it be with him.
I walk over the windows, pulling my shirt over my head as I do. I need him, I need the feel of his ropes around me. I need that more than anything right now. My mind has been in a swirl since seeing Anthony scoop up Dorothy in his arms. It shifted my perception of him and that scared me. I am one hundred percent sure that he is going to break me before he heals me and for the first time, I want him to. I want someone to shatter me into a thousand pieces. To release everything that I have compressed behind the windows of my soul.
After removing the rest of my clothing, I fold it neatly and set it off to side. I kneel in the exact spot that he instructed me to the day before, and I wait. He rises and leaves the room. Maybe he has given up. Just as I’m about to abandon this crazy idea he returns and walks towards me. He stops in front of me and I stare at his now bare feet peeking out from the bottom of black sweatpants.
He touches the top of my head lightly. “Good girl,” he says drawing his hand down the length of my hair. “You know what has to happen here, don’t you?”
I choke on a sob, fuck it’s so close. Praying that I survive this I answer quietly, “yes, sir.”
“Red, yellow and green? Yes?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Any final words?”
I choke again, pausing for several seconds before answering. “Just do it. Break me, Anthony. Break me but please,
please don’t leave me when I’m nothing but raw pain and bleak darkness. Please don’t leave me that way,” I say softly. So close, so very, very, close.
He crouches down digging his fingers painfully into my jaw. He lifts my face, forcing my eyes to meet his. “I will NEVER leave you broken. NEVER,” he growls and then he kisses me hard, driving his tongue into my mouth.
When he breaks away I gasp for breath. Dropping my chin to my chest I feel the first tinge of anticipation enter my system. The sound of his rope hitting the floor sends a shiver up my spine. He is in front of me again, wrapping his ropes around my wrists. I stare at the beautiful knots and twists of the black rope painting my pale skin.
Tug…rub….pull…hot breath over my neck...another tug. My mind turns dark and I fall deep into myself. In my mind I open my arms out fully and fall backwards, no fear of where or if I’ll land. I thought Heaven was made of white light and beautiful things with rounded edges. At least that was what I had always been told. Here with Anthony, Heaven is made of dark and scary things with sharp edges and I love it.
A voice drags me to the surface. “Are you with me, Danielle?”
“Yes, sir,” I purr scratching at the surface and peeking my eyes open at his beautiful face.
“I’m going to pull you to a standing position from that hook,” he points to a wooden beam with a hook above me. I hadn’t noticed it before.
The dark place is whispering me back to it. “Yes, sir,” I close my eyes again as he raises my hands above my head hooking the rope into the metal above me.
Slowly it pulls me from the floor. “Thank you, sir,” I whisper, my legs appreciating the stretch.
Anthony groans loudly at my ear. “You are most welcome. You are being so good, aren’t you?”
“Yes, sir, I’m sorry for earlier, sir,” I say on an exhale of breath.
“All part of the process, love. Tomorrow will be a new beginning. Yes?”
“Yes, sir,” I drawl as my head drops back. His fingers careen over my most private areas. I groan in distress when his hands leave me. He chuckles lightly.
