“All right. We will prepare the necessary paperwork and inform the mortician, and he will be in touch with you then, Miss Walker.”
I don’t acknowledge the doctor's words. It isn’t true. None of this is real. I’m only dreaming. It can’t be real. “I want to see him,” I whisper.
“Pardon?” Avery asks.
“I … I want to see him. I need to see him,” I repeat.
“Miss Walker, you will be able to see him once he is at the mortician’s,” the doctor informs me.
I shake my head. “I want to see him now. I’m not going to leave.”
“Dale, come home with me. You look tired and devastated. You need some rest,” Avery whispers.
“Don’t you understand? I want to see my grandfather!” I scream, starting to fight with all my might against Avery’s embrace.
“Dale, please calm down,” Avery begs, but I don’t stop. I can’t stop. I need to be with Grandpa.
“No! I want to see him! I have to say goodbye, don’t you see? I … I still have to tell him so many things still!”
It feels like I’ve been struggling against Avery for a long time when I suddenly feel something prick the skin on my right arm.
“Miss Walker, this is a mild sedative,” the doctor speaks soothingly to me. “I need you to go home now and get some rest.”
Only a few seconds later I feel a soothing sensation spread through my body. It’s probably the effect of the drug. But I still don’t want to leave. I keep shaking my head. “I have to see him.”
Avery picks me up and cradles me in his arms. “I’m going to take you to my place, and you can stay with me as long as you need,” he whispers.
I put my head on his shoulder and close my eyes. He excuses us to Grandpa’s doctor and carries me to the elevator.
***
“Hey, you’re awake.” Avery smiles and gets up.
As I walk into his kitchen, I look up at him and nod. My eyes feel puffy and sore. As he approaches me, I take a few steps backward. “Did it really happen?”
Avery stops. “What?” he asks gently.
I close my eyes, because the tears are already blinding me again. “Everything I remember from last night,” I whisper hoarsely.
Avery sighs. “Yes, it really happened, Dale.”
“Okay,” I murmur. My knees buckle and I collapse heavily on the floor. The pain reminds me that I’m still alive, contrary to my grandfather. Where’s the button I can push to rewind my life? So I can change something and create a different outcome?
“Dale, I know how awful you feel,” Avery says, kneeling in front of me, “but I will always be there for you, especially now.”
“He’s gone,” I whisper. “I will never talk to him again.” The realization tears my heart in two.
“He’ll live on in your heart,” Avery says soothingly.
“I don’t know how many times I heard that after my mother died … I hate that empty statement. It’s not true. I can’t talk to him or see him anymore. He can never take me in his arms again or tell me he loves me and is proud of me. I disappointed him. The last thing I did was disappoint him.”
“How did you disappoint him?” Avery asks gently.
“I lost the job with the senior care agency. He didn’t know that yet, but this morning I told him and then went to take a shower. And when I came back, he was lying on the floor,” I explain flatly.
“He loved you, Dale.”
“Yes. And he is the only person who ever loved me,” I say softly, staring down at my hands in my lap.
There’s a knock on the door, and Avery raises his eyes. “That must be Sweet Thing. She and Delsin went to get a few things for you, so you can stay here for the time being.” With that, he stands and walks over to open the door.
Camille comes in. “How is she doing?”
“I would say ‘shitty’ doesn’t even begin to cover it,” he answers in a hushed voice.
Then I hear steps approaching me. “Hey, Dahlia.” Camille sits down on the floor next to me. “Do you want to talk?”
I shake my head. “No, I don’t. Thanks, though, Camille.”
She puts an arm around me and strokes me softly. “I know we don’t know each other very well, but whenever you feel like talking, just come see me and I’ll listen.”
I lean my head against her shoulder briefly. “Thank you. That’s very kind of you.”
“I’m going to put these things in the bedroom, and then I’ll make some food,” Avery announces before disappearing.
“Why is everyone suddenly being so nice to me?” I ask.
“Because we like you, even though we don’t know you that well,” Cami says. “Delsin said you can have one of the guest rooms, if you don’t want to go home on your own. And of course we’re here to help, if you need help with all the … arrangements.”
“You mean the funeral?” I clarify.
“Yeah,” she says softly.
“I think I can manage that on my own,” I breathe.
“I just want you to know we’re here for you, Dahlia. We’re happy to help.”
I shake my head. “That’s nice of you, but I think I should go home now. I have to look for all the records and documents I’ll need to sell the house. I won’t be able to keep it.” Then I try to stand.
“I want you to stay, Dale,” Avery says. I didn’t notice he’d come back into the room.
“At least stay until you’ve rested a little,” Cami agrees. “You’ve had such a horrible day.”
I utter a sigh. “I can’t just sit here and do nothing.”
“Fine, then how about helping me cook dinner?” Avery suggest. “I would order in, but if it distracts you, we’ll cook.”
“I don’t want to cook,” I say. I get up from the floor and go back into the bedroom I woke up in a few minutes earlier. I don’t even want to eat or drink; I only want to hide and be left alone.
“Did the doctor tell you when you’re supposed to give them to her?” I hear Cami ask.
“Yeah, only if she has another breakdown or if she can’t fall asleep,” Avery explains. “But I don’t want to give them to her—I want to let her grieve. I know it’s the only thing that helped me when my grandfather died.”
“Ave, she’s exhausted, and she—”
“What? Do you think I don’t know how horrible she feels?” he says insistently. “She was probably confused, too, waking up here instead of at home, but I don’t know where she lives. She only had a set of keys and a few cents on her. Not even enough for the bus to Liberty City. But that isn’t important right now. The only thing that’s important is that she is helped to cope with it, and until then I’m going to be there for her.”
I pull a pillow over my head so I won’t hear what else they say.
***
I flinch when someone touches me.
“Are you awake?” Avery asks softly.
“Yes, I am.” I pull the pillow away from my head.
“Cami made a lot of food, in case you’re hungry.”
“I’m not, but thank you, Avery.” I turn around and look at him wearily.
“Do you want to talk?” he asks.
I shake my head. “I’d rather … ” I’m embarrassed to admit what I need right now, but I press on. “Could you hold me?”
He smiles at me tenderly, then lies down beside me, and holds opens his arms. “Come here. I'll stay with you until you send me away.”
I snuggle into his arms, and for the first time today, I feel protected, safe. He places a hand on my shoulder and leaves it there. We lie together in silence, and I’m thankful that he’s willing to be there for me during the hardest time of my life.
Avery hardly knows me, and yet he has taken me in so I won’t be alone. I think maybe my hysterics in the hospital are responsible for that. I can’t imagine I’d be here without them. Fortunately, he and Trudy were there, otherwise I would have broken down even more thoroughly, and they probably would have kept me in the hospita
l. I’ve detested hospitals ever since I was a small child. My first experience with them was when I hit my head on the edge of the table, and the gash needed stitches. Thankfully it happened when my mother was mostly sober, but it’s still an awful memory. It taught me to be extremely careful that no other accident would happen.
While I’m lost in my memories, my head gets heavier and my stomach starts to rumble.
“Are you sure you aren’t hungry?” Avery asks softly.
“Maybe a little.”
“You want me to make you a plate? Cami made chili.”
“No, thank you. I should get up and … and do something. Anything.”
“Do you want to eat out on the balcony? Or would you rather stay inside?”
“Maybe at the table or in front of the TV? I think I would prefer that,” I say as I sit up.
“Okay.” Avery gets up as well and takes me by the hand. He walks me to the kitchen. “Want some bread with your chili?”
“Okay.” I shrug and lean against the counter. I watch him put the pot of chili back onto the stove and reheat it. It soothes me to watch him. Weird, but true.
He looks at me from time to time as if to make sure that I’m not breaking down again, but I don’t. Right now, I merely feel empty. The world seems dull and hazy. I stare into the bubbling pot.
“Do you want to taste it?” he asks.
I nod weakly.
Avery takes a teaspoon from a drawer, sticks it into the chili, and blows softly on the small portion on the spoon. Then he holds it out to my lips.
I blow on it again, and then I take it into my mouth. It’s not very spicy, rather mild, for which I’m thankful. “That is good.”
“Yeah. Sweet Thing really is a good cook.”
“Why, again, do you call her that?” I ask. For some reason, it makes me a little jealous hearing him call his best friend by such a nickname.
He smirks. “In the beginning I called her Tartlet because of the cupcake incident, and then Sweet Thing developed from Sweet Bird, because she tends to chirp like an angry bird when she gets excited or annoyed—and that used to happen all the time. The name stuck. I can hardly remember the last time I called her Camille.”
“I see.”
“And how did you get Dale from Dahlia?” he asks.
“I don’t know. At some point, my mom started calling me that, and my grandpa got it from her. I suspect she called me Dale because she really wanted a boy.”
“Really? I can’t imagine that. I bet she was very proud of you. It’s a shame I can’t get to know her.”
I shrug because I doubt he would have liked to get to know my mother. But then I murmur, “Yes, it is,” because I don’t want him to probe any further. I still haven’t told him the true cause of my mother’s demise, after all. And I don’t intend to. Because after that he would cease being this nice to me.
Finally, Avery grabs two bowls from a cabinet and fills them with chili. “Would you cut the bread?”
“Sure. Where is it?” I ask, looking around.
“In the bread box. There’s a cutting board in the cabinet below, and here’s a knife.” He hands me a bread knife.
I put the knife on the counter, take the bread out of the bread box, and fetch the board from the cabinet. I cut a few slices from the loaf. “Do you have a bowl for it?”
He hands me a round wire basket. I place the slices of bread in it while Avery gets the spoons and something to drink.
“Enjoy,” he says with a smile as he sits down opposite me and places a bowl in front of me.
I can only halfheartedly return his smile. I stir my chili, deeply lost in thought. It all still seems so unreal. It will probably take a while before I fully realize that Grandpa is really dead. The beans on my spoon burn my tongue, but even that’s a welcome sign that I’m still capable of feeling something.
“I’m really, sincerely sorry about what happened,” Avery whispers.
“I don’t want to talk about it,” I answer softly. “I’m not ready.”
“Okay, then we won’t. Suggest a topic,” Avery prompts me. “Tell me about your dreams. What’s your ideal life?”
“Well, I dream about studying teaching and later having a job that won’t let me go hungry. I’d like a pretty little house, with children and a man at my side, one who really cherishes me … But those are just daydreams.”
“Some dreams come true,” Avery says.
“So far, only the nightmares have come true for me,” I whisper.
Avery nods despondently and continues to eat, so I do the same. There’s just too much on my mind to make small talk or force a conversation about anything else. I’d like to go home, but I know everything there will only remind me of Grandpa and that will hurt me.
“How can I distract you? Or cheer you up?” Avery asks, breaking the silence.
I gaze into his dark blue eyes. “You can’t,” I answer helplessly. “It’s going around and around in my head, and I don’t think it will stop anytime soon.”
“I know. I thought we could take a walk along the beach or maybe watch a movie. Nothing spectacular.”
I shake my head. “I think I just want to go lie down again and block everything out for today.”
Avery nods. “That doctor gave me a sedative for you if you can’t sleep. Do you want to take it?”
“I’m not sure,” I murmur. I put down the spoon because suddenly I’m not hungry anymore. “May I take a shower?”
He nods. “Of course.”
“Where’s your bathroom?” I ask.
“Opposite the bedroom. You can’t miss it.”
I get up and carry my bowl to the counter. I quickly rinse it in the sink, and then I go to the bathroom and undress. I stand in the shower and let the warm water flow over my body for a long while. It feels good, which is a third confirmation of my continuing ability to feel. I stare at the drops of water that run down the shower door. Nothing can stop them; any obstacle will simply be circumvented and they keep running. If only I were a drop of water, chasing my goal without letting anything deter me. The tears on my cheeks mirror the drops of water; they keep running, undeterred. They come of their own accord, no matter how hard I try to keep my cool. Grandpa wouldn’t have wanted me to break down. He always told me I was strong, but now I’m weak. Incredibly weak. I lean against the tiles of the shower and feel my legs buckle under me. I let myself sink down onto the shower floor and close my eyes. He was too young to die. And he was sick. I can’t forgive him for never telling me, for at least then I would have been prepared.
I love you too, Dale.
I hear his last words again and again, see his face. I have to remember that, have to store it in my head like a treasure. I have to keep all my memories in a treasure chest in my heart, so I won’t forget him.
“Is everything okay, Dale?”
It’s Avery’s voice. When did he come in?
“Yes,” I call and splash water on my face to wash away the tears.
“You’ve been in here for half an hour. I thought something might’ve happened.”
Well, something did happen. My grandfather is dead! “No, I’m fine,” I say. “I’m coming out now. Could you give me a towel?” I struggle to get up from the slippery floor and turn off the water.
I hear him step closer and see his silhouette on the other side of the shower curtain. He holds the towel up and open for me to step into.
“Could you look away?” For some reason I feel uncomfortable with him seeing me naked now.
“Sure,” he says, closing his eyes.
“Thank you,” I say, opening the door of the shower and watching him. He really does have his eyes closed tightly. I step out and back into the towel, which he drops around my shoulders. “Okay,” I say, and then he opens his eyes and looks at me.
“You were crying again,” he states.
I lower my eyes, but Avery raises my chin with his hand and forces me to look at him. “Talk to me, okay? I really want to be t
here for you, Dale.”
“Why?” I ask. I simply can’t fathom why he would care so much as to take care of me and shelter me here.
He utters a soft sigh. “Because I like you, and it tears at my heart to see you like this. You deserve a life not weighed down by worries and grief.” He pulls me into his arms and hugs me tightly.
“You're getting all wet,” I whisper.
“I don’t care. I just want to hold you. What’s a little water anyway?”
I close my eyes. Avery seems to know instinctively when I need closeness and tenderness. He’s always there in the right moment. When his girlfriend—ex-girlfriend, to be precise—insulted me, he followed me. Then he was there to hold me in the hospital, and now here he is again. Is it possible that there are angels on earth, people who try to alleviate our suffering just by being there for us? Or is Avery the only angel in the world, sent to me, and only to me? Maybe it’s just his character to always be there for the people he likes. Does he really like me? He certainly told me in no uncertain terms, but can I believe that? Anyone else who barely knew me wouldn’t have cared about my problems or Grandpa's death, but Avery did. He does. “Thanks for being here for me, Avery,” I breathe.
He strokes the back of my head and then lets his hand rest on the back of my neck. “I like being there for you, and I always will, if you’ll let me.”
“We barely know each other,” I softly insist.
“What does that matter? We're getting to know each other. Just let me to be here for you.” He wears that warm smile of his and looks into my eyes when I raise my head.
It makes my heart beat faster, and the only thing I can muster is a small nod.
He lets me go. “I can give you some of my clothes. How about a T-shirt and shorts for now?”
I nod again, unable to do anything else. Avery Morrison makes all my synapses explode, even though my mind should be occupied with other things. I can’t think of sex right now. It’s impossible. I must just be desperate for affection.
He turns away from me and leaves the bathroom. I quickly towel myself dry and then wrap my hair up in the towel.
Avery: Sensual Desire: New Adult College Romance (Coral Gables Series Book 2) Page 7
