“No.” The word came out sharp. Erica winced inwardly. Leslie didn’t deserve that. Hell, she deserved a medal for everything she’d already done. Erica softened. “I’ll be fine. Thank you.” She steadied herself with her hand on the nightstand before attempting an actual step, then made her way on wobbly legs to the bathroom. She felt Leslie’s eyes on her the whole time.
When she got there, she had to sit for a few minutes on the toilet lid to rest before starting the water, then again before adjusting the temperature. And yet again between wrestling her way out of her T-shirt and climbing over the edge of the tub to get beneath the hot stream of cleansing water. She’d never felt anything so decadently luxurious as that steady caress of warm liquid sluicing over her skin. She moaned with pleasure as she turned in a slow circle and the ache in her muscles began to ease.
She managed the body wash over her torso with no trouble. Lifting one foot, then the other, to the small ledge in the corner to run her soapy hands the full length of each leg and over her buttocks caused more difficulty. When it was time to lift her arms and shampoo her hair, though, she had no energy left. Her legs began to tremble, and she crumpled to the ground. She felt useless. She began to cry.
“Do you need some help?” Leslie asked from somewhere in the bathroom.
Erica couldn’t muster the indignation to question how long she’d been there, nor could she answer at first. All she could do was suck in air between small sobs and draw up her knees to hug them tightly against her bare breasts. “Yes,” she said finally, relinquishing all pretense that she could manage anything on her own right now. “Please.”
Leslie inched the shower curtain aside and waited.
Erica kept her gaze riveted to the floor of the tub, but she knew Leslie was looking down at her. What else would she be doing? She could imagine, though, what she was seeing and thinking—Erica at her weakest. Embarrassment turned to anger in a flash, but she lacked the strength to express it. Just as well. She heard the rustle of the curtain and Leslie moved to the end of the shower where Erica sat.
“Let me wash your hair,” Leslie said quietly.
Erica cried harder. She didn’t know which was worse—the embarrassment and humiliation at Leslie seeing her so vulnerable and needy, or Leslie’s kindness that made Erica so tempted to lean into her, the lure of her mere presence at a moment such as this. Erica didn’t do this. She was strong. She was independent. She handled things—all things—on her own. This was the very kind of situation that drove people away. But in this case, hadn’t it been what had brought Leslie back? She’d been absent ever since their conversation Sunday, and yet here she was.
“Is it okay if I wash your hair?” Leslie asked.
Erica hesitated. Wasn’t the grossness of her hair the very reason she’d been so desperate to take a shower, though? Still crying softly, she nodded.
Leslie took the nozzle from its holder and let it hang loosely while she worked shampoo into Erica’s hair. Her hands felt so good, washing and rinsing her hair clean. Then she added conditioner, combing through the tangles with her fingers and gently massaging Erica’s scalp. She didn’t speak. Finally, she let the warm stream flow over Erica’s head, shoulders, and back for a few minutes before turning off the water. Leslie draped a towel over Erica’s hair and squeezed out the excess water. Her ministrations were so gentle, so careful. When she finished, she ran the towel over Erica’s shoulders, down her back and sides, over her arms.
Gradually, Erica calmed. “There’s a robe on the back of the door,” she said between sniffles. “Will you please get it for me?”
“Of course.” In seconds, Leslie was wrapping it around Erica and guiding Erica’s hands into the sleeves. Then to Erica’s astonishment, she stepped into the tub and leaned down. “Put your arms around my neck,” she said.
Erica looked up into Leslie’s eyes. She searched her face, unsure what was happening.
“I’m going to help you up. That’s all.” Leslie’s tone was reassuring.
Erica did as she was told, and before she knew it, Leslie’s arms were around her and she was being half coaxed, half lifted to her feet. She pressed into Leslie for balance.
Leslie took a moment to steady her, then with one arm tightly around Erica’s waist, she pulled the robe closed with her free hand. “Ready?”
Erica’s legs were still wobbly. They shook under her weight. She knew she wouldn’t make it to her bed on her own.
Leslie moved back, stepping over the side of the tub, then helped Erica after her. She kept a snug hold on her as they made their way into the bedroom.
At the sight of the bed—her comforter and sheets, obviously laundered and returned, the covers turned down as though in a hotel—Erica balked.
“I figured, once you were clean, you’d want clean bedding,” Leslie said, answering without actually being asked. “I ran down and grabbed them out of the dryer.”
Tears, this time of pure gratitude, burned Erica’s eyes again. A smidge of embarrassment still lingered as well, but at least the second set of sheets hadn’t been as disgusting as the first. All she could do was nod.
Leslie settled her into bed, leaning her against the stack of pillows.
Erica sighed with relief to be able to rest again.
“I brought you some ice chips.” Leslie handed her a cup and a spoon. “You need to get some liquids into you.”
Erica took them gratefully and put a small scoop into her mouth. The ice melted quickly on her hot tongue, and she realized she was still running a fever. It felt and tasted so good. She moaned softly, as though it was filet mignon. “Thank you,” she whispered.
“No problem,” Leslie said, her tone truly convincing.
Erica ate a few more small bites, letting the cool liquid soothe her parched throat as she swallowed. She waited to see how her stomach reacted, but so far, so good. “You know,” she said, unable to meet Leslie’s gaze, “when this is over, one of us is going to have to move. I’ll be way too mortified to face you after all this.” It was a weak attempt at a joke, maybe because there was actual truth to the statement.
Leslie chuckled, the sound low in her throat. “It’s too bad I didn’t know that before I had all that furniture delivered.”
The comment piqued Erica’s interest. She glanced at Leslie. “Did it come?”
Leslie nodded. “It did.”
“How did you manage that, since you’ve been here all day?” Erica asked.
“We were back and forth,” Leslie said, kneeling beside the bed. “But I was listening for you. You were never alone.”
Erica remembered what Leslie had said earlier about keeping the nursery monitor with her and all Erica had to do was say her name. That thought and Leslie’s words, You were never alone, brought a heated blush to Erica’s face. They were words Erica had longed to hear, dreamed of hearing, first from Trent after Siena was born, later mostly in the fantasy life she sometimes allowed herself to indulge in, but now, they struck fear in her heart. She couldn’t let herself get sucked in. It’s ridiculous. Leslie didn’t mean them in any kind of real way. Besides, she didn’t need anyone like that. This situation was an anomaly. At the first twinge of her stomach, she handed the cup of ice back to Leslie. “I think that’s enough for now.” She scooched down the pillows and started to curl into a fetal position.
“Hold on,” Leslie said. “We should get you out of that damp robe. Do you have pajamas, or another nightshirt, or something?”
Erica flinched. Oh, what the hell. She’s seen everything anyway. “The top drawer,” she said, waving toward the dresser.
Leslie returned with one of the oversized T-shirts Erica slept in when she wasn’t trying to impress anyone, which was almost always, and—for one more humiliation—a pair of Erica’s panties. She slipped her arm beneath Erica’s shoulders and eased her up, then helped her out of the robe. “Don’t worry, I won’t look,” Leslie said, a hint of humor in her voice.
Erica laughed. The irony of
the situation wasn’t lost on her. “This is Karma for last night.”
“What happened last night?” Leslie asked as she pulled the shirt over Erica’s head.
Oh, God. Had she really said that? She pushed her arms into the sleeves, then pulled the shirt down around her body.
Leslie was staring at her, realization shaping her features. “That’s why Gus was in your yard. Why he took so long coming when I called him. You were there?”
Erica sighed. “I’m sorry. I was on the patio when you came out. I never expected you to strip. Then when you did, it was too late for me to get back into the house unnoticed.”
Leslie waited a beat. “Well, then,” she said thoughtfully. “Maybe I should have looked more.” The teasing in her voice was evident. “You owe me.”
Erica reclined onto the pillows and offered her a small smile. “So what have you and Siena and Gus been doing all day today?” she asked, changing the subject. Even if she’d had the energy to flirt, she’d promised herself she wouldn’t.
“Let’s see…” Leslie repositioned herself on the floor beside the bed. “We made pancakes for breakfast. Thank you for the batter in the fridge, by the way.” She winked at Erica. “We played some games. We met the furniture delivery people and showed them where to put everything.”
“I’ll bet Siena loved that,” Erica said, enjoying the glint in Leslie’s eyes. “She makes a good supervisor.”
Leslie laughed. “She was an excellent supervisor, until the blue couch got unloaded. Then she abdicated her supervisory role in order to bounce on it. I could barely get her off of it to come over here and check on you.”
“You’re going to have to tell me what’s so amazing about this blue couch.” Erica let her eyelids droop closed, then opened them again, as she spoke. She was fading.
“Siena wanted to see you,” Leslie said, pulling the covers over Erica’s bare legs. “Why don’t I go get her, and she can tell you all about it.”
Erica nodded. “I’d like that.”
Leslie grinned and left.
A wave of exhaustion moved through Erica. The clean bedding and clothing, the comfort of someone being there with her, for her, handling things, taking care of both her and Siena. …It all lulled her into a false sense of safety and support. It wouldn’t last. She knew that. But for now, just this once, she let herself go there.
Just for now.
Chapter Seven
Leslie dumped a scoop of laundry detergent into her brand new washing machine, then poured fabric softener into its designated compartment. She turned to Siena. “How are you coming with that?”
Siena looked up from the package of sheets she was struggling with. “It’s hard,” she said.
“Want me to do it?” The answer would be no. Leslie had learned Siena liked doing things for herself, like her mother. Leslie waited, giving her the opportunity.
Siena had turned out to be quite the little helper in all that was going on. She obviously enjoyed being in the middle of everything, taking part in all the happenings of the day. It was different from what Leslie was used to with Elijah. He had a tendency to hang back and want someone else to handle everything. Leslie had to encourage—sometimes manipulate, bribe, and even trick—him into helping with a project. She wondered how Cassie’s husband dealt with that. She hoped he was patient. The pain of that no longer being her role was slowly diminishing, but it still hurt.
Finally, the plastic packaging tore and the sheets fell out. Leslie and Siena shook them from their tightly folded constraints.
As Leslie stuffed the sheets into the washer, it wasn’t lost on her that this was the third set of bedding she’d laundered that day, but at least this set was clean, and she was only doing it to get the stiffness out of them before putting them on the brand new bed waiting for her upstairs. Not that she’d get to sleep in it tonight. She’d already determined she’d be spending the night on Erica’s couch—but it was nice to know she had a bed and her stint of sleeping on her living room floor was over.
“What do we do now?” Siena asked as she ran through the kitchen ahead of Leslie and into the family room. Without the slightest pause, she leapt onto the couch and flopped into its overstuffed padding. She wriggled into the corner where the two pieces of the sectional met, a huge grin on her face.
Leslie smiled. “Something tells me you’d be happy sitting there for the rest of the evening.” She dropped onto the other end and laid her head against the armrest. She could do with a breather. It’d been a long day what with finding Erica so sick first thing, then the delivery of the furniture. Nell had stopped by with some Jell-O, Gatorade, and broth Leslie had asked her to pick up for when Erica started feeling better and had won Siena over with a couple of magic tricks. Other than that, Leslie had been Siena’s entire entertainment for the day, and she’d forgotten how much energy that took. She didn’t mind, though. She was tired, but it was a good kind of tired. She stretched.
The couch was comfortable—and fun. She’d liked it the second she’d seen it, and she might have bought it even without Siena’s request for a blue couch. It was upholstered in faded denim fabric and had compartments sewn into it in strategic places that looked like the back pockets of old blue jeans, presumably to hold things like remotes, or reading glasses, or anything else one might want to keep track of while lounging around. It was perfect for the casual atmosphere of a family room.
A soft rustling sound came from the speaker on the coffee table.
Was it Erica or Gus? While Siena had brought Erica up to speed on all she’d missed while she’d been puking and snoring, as Siena had so delicately put it, Gus had snuggled into the lush comforter and sprawled out along Erica’s side. When she’d fallen asleep before the end of Siena’s discourse and Leslie had tried to coax both girl and dog quietly from the room, Gus had refused to budge, only staring back at Leslie, a clear message in his eyes. He’d been with her ever since. Leslie had heard a surprised, “Hi, Gus,” at one point, followed by the crunch of some ice in the cup and a murmured, “You’re a good boy,” as Erica settled back into sleep, but other than that, the monitor had been quiet into the early evening.
“Are you getting hungry?” Leslie asked Siena. “Think you could help me with one more job before we make dinner? It’s an important one.”
“What is it?” Siena straightened with her question. She seemed to enjoy helping with important things.
“Come on, I’ll show you.” Leslie led the way into the living room and pulled the hard plastic shipping box from where she’d placed it on the lower shelf of a marble topped credenza near the front door. She sat beside it and opened it.
Siena peered inside. “What’s in there?”
“Let’s see,” Leslie said with a grin. She loved Siena’s curiosity. Face it. I love pretty much everything about her. She shouldn’t go there, though. Regardless of her growing affection, once Erica was on her feet again, Leslie’s plan of keeping a distance had to go back into place. The whole day had felt so much like family, what with caring for Erica while she was sick, then keeping Siena occupied and fed all day, and she’d let herself enjoy it. A family was what she’d always wanted. Wasn’t that what had drawn her to Cassie, once Elijah was born? She had to remember, though, Siena and Erica weren’t her family. Looking back, that’s where she’d gone wrong with Cassie and Elijah.
Leslie withdrew a heavy bundle from the box and unwound the towel around it, then peeled away the tape that held several layers of bubble wrap in place. She held up the statue for Siena to see.
Siena gasped. “What’s that?” she asked, wonder in her tone.
“It’s a Buddha statue carved from a stone called blue lapis lazuli,” Leslie said, turning the art piece in her hands and checking for damage from the trip. She doubted she’d find any. She’d packed it carefully, and the box had been nestled behind the driver’s seat, with her unrolled sleeping bag and several pillows stuffed around it the whole way. “I thought you’d like the color,
since you have such a fondness for blue couches.”
Siena’s eyes shone with excitement. “I do. It’s so pretty. What’s a Buddha?”
“A Buddha,” Leslie said, setting the statue on one end of the credenza, “is someone who’s gotten rid of all their mean and scary thoughts about themselves and others and the world and realized that who and what they really are is love. It’s called achieving enlightenment.” There was a lot lost in the translation, but it would give Siena the basic idea.
Siena was listening intently. “Can anyone be a Buddha?”
“Yes, as a matter of fact.” Leslie loved talking with children. They could always grasp the concept of love more easily than most adults. “We’re all actually, in a way, already Buddhas. We just have to uncover that part of ourselves by getting rid of all the negative things we’ve learned from being in the world, like hate, and meanness, and jealousy, and greed, and a lot more. So really, there have been a lot of Buddhas, and there can be even more.”
“Is that why he looks so happy?” Siena pointed at the statue. “And how come he’s so fat?”
Leslie laughed. “This is Hotei. He’s the Chinese Buddha of contentment and happiness and the guardian of children. He’s also called the fat Buddha or the laughing Buddha. This sack he’s carrying?” She stroked a bag draped over his back. “It’s said to be filled with an unending supply of treasures and food and drink so he can feed the poor. And it’s said to be good luck if you rub his fat belly whenever you pass him.” She demonstrated.
Siena tentatively followed her lead, then grinned. “What else is in there?” she asked returning her attention to the box.
Leslie took out another bundle and unwrapped it. “This is another Buddha,” she said, holding up a jade sculpture. “This is the very first Buddha, Siddhartha. He was the first one to achieve enlightenment and taught others how to do it.”
“Why are his eyes closed?” Siena asked, tracing the statue’s lids.
“He’s meditating,” Leslie said, already opening the third bundle. “That’s when you sit quietly and concentrate on a particular thing until you can really feel it, and then answers to your questions come. At least, that’s one way to meditate.”
A Wish Upon a Star Page 11
