by Deanna Roy
But for some reason, he didn’t. He just held me tightly and led me back down the path. As we crossed the scrubby ground, I looked back at the cliff, the water, and the sunset. I would come back here. I would not try to capture it with a crappy cell-phone camera. I would paint it. Get it right.
Chapter 24: Darion
By the time we got back to the car, the picnic place had buzzed me saying they had prepared the food. I opened the door for Tina, who still seemed lost in thought and practically vibrating with emotion.
I slid behind the wheel. Darkness was settling rapidly now. But the beach would be fine. All along the waterline at La Jolla, people lit fires. I had only walked along that stretch with a sleeping Cynthia in my arms, but it was the most romantic place I’d ever been. I wanted to go there with Tina.
The Picnic Bistro was not far. “Are you hungry?” I asked Tina.
“Sure. What did you have in mind?”
“I had a picnic made up for us. Have you been on the beach at night?”
“You can do that?” A streetlamp lit up her hair, gold like a halo around the shadow of her face.
“You can. It’s not crowded or anything, but there will be people. Playing guitars. Sitting around fires.”
“Ooooh,” she breathed.
I had chosen the right thing.
The picnic place did not have a restaurant attached, although there were outdoor tables. When I pulled up, a girl ran out with the basket. I had forgotten when I forwarded the email that the previous one asked that someone meet me outside. At the time, Cynthia’s ANC was zero, and her lack of immune system meant I didn’t take her to public places, not indoors anyway. The risk of any infection, even just a cold, was too high.
The beach had been perfect, open, warm, and while she couldn’t swim, just walking in the sand had been a great escape as we transferred from one hospital to the next. A vacation in our new hometown.
But because the email had implored them to deliver to our car, the girl came out this time as well. I opened the car door to receive the basket.
“Thank you,” I said, quickly signing the bill.
“Have a lovely time with your sister,” she said.
Damn. I glanced back. Tina was looking out her window. Hopefully she hadn’t heard, or would assume that the woman was confused about who she was.
I set the basket in the backseat.
“Sister, huh?” Tina said as we drove away. “I guess we really are good at hiding our surgical-suite moments.”
“We should try acting,” I said, silently relieved she hadn’t questioned the comment.
“I don’t know my way around yet,” Tina said. “I don’t have a car. Are we close to the beach?”
“Very.” I pulled out of the parking lot. “In fact,” I said, turning onto the next street, “we’re almost there now.”
The parking lot was mostly empty. Between the onset of winter and nightfall, the families were gone. Only a few couples and a group of college kids hung out on the fringes of the parking lot.
Tina got out of the car and looked out on the inky blackness of the ocean. I pulled the basket from the backseat and checked inside. Yes, they’d packed a thin blanket for us to sit on.
I took her hand again, small and cool, and led her between the posts and out into the sand. We only walked a few steps before she paused to take off her shoes, then lifted her skirt to roll down the striped stockings.
My pulse sped a little at the sight of her bare knees as she stripped her legs.
“Will you be cold?” I asked.
“Not if you do your job,” she said. “Brother,” she added with a laugh.
She created a neat bundle by knotting the stockings through the strap of her Mary Janes and tied it over her shoulder. I could feel the sand filling my own shoes, but I wasn’t the sort to run around barefoot while fully dressed. I’d manage.
The moon was bright and almost full. As I’d hoped, small parties were lighting logs in fire rings at regular intervals. Tina lifted her skirt and stepped gingerly toward the water’s edge. When she got wet, she squealed.
“It’s cold!”
“You’re going to catch pneumonia,” I said.
She turned and stuck her tongue out at me. “You of all people know that wet feet have nothing to do with fluid in your lungs.”
I had to laugh. “You got me there. It’s more a function of immune suppression when your body has to pull its warmth to your core to protect your organs.”
She splashed around, kicking at the gentle waves. “Do you always talk this sexy?”
I set the basket in the sand, and before she could predict my next move, I swept her into my arms.
“Hey!” she said, laughing. “I’m going to get my dirty feet on your fancy doctor clothes.”
“Someone has to save you from a terrible death.”
I carried her back to the basket, but didn’t set her down. Instead, I dropped down into the sand, keeping her on my lap. The dry cleaners could deal with the mess later.
“You planning to keep my organs warm?” she asked. Her hand cupped my neck, and she fingered the hair at my nape.
Had we really just met two days ago? It seemed like forever already.
“I’ll do my best.”
I already knew what she was wearing beneath the jacket, the silky camisole. I wanted to touch it again, to run my hands across her belly. So, I did.
“Which organs did you have in mind?” she asked.
“Your pancreas.”
“What?” Her laugh was like a sprinkle of light. “Dr. Marks, you are very strange.”
“I can’t seem too boring.” I ran my thumb along the base of her ribs. Her face was so close to mine that each of her breaths puffed against my cheek.
“I don’t think I’ve had a boring moment since the moment you walked into my art room.”
“Two days ago or two weeks ago?” I asked.
“Either one.”
Her fingers slid across the edge of my ear. Now I wished we’d taken the basket someplace more private. But going slow, being careful, that was the best course.
My free hand moved behind her head to bring her to me. Her lips were cool, but they parted and her mouth was soft and warm. I pulled her in close, still on my lap. I explored the silky curve of her waist and tugged the camisole from the band of her skirt. When my fingertips reached her bare skin, she sighed against my mouth.
I took my time, grateful to be away from the hospital, able to touch her without distraction. Everything about her was delicate and small. It’s what brought out this protectiveness in me. She seemed so easy to break.
Tina shifted on my lap, turning in to me, her legs on either side of my waist. I reached behind her to unfasten the bra, and now I had access to so much more. Her pert breast fit exactly in my hand, and the taut nipple rolled neatly under my thumb.
She gasped against me, her arms encircling my neck. She broke the kiss, letting her head fall onto my shoulder. I kept one hand on her body but let the other drift down to her knee, where her skirt was trapped against the sand. I pulled it free and slid my fingers beneath the heavy fabric, up her thigh.
Her panties were small, just a bit of lace. I tucked my finger inside the thin band, just above her hip.
Now Tina moved against me, slow and hard, rocking her pelvis. I knew she could feel me wanting her. Her hands gripped my arms, holding tight, sliding against me.
I wasn’t sure I could take much more.
Chapter 25: Tina
Whoa, Nelly. I was already moving too fast, grinding against the doctor like a dog in heat.
I knew all the terrible places sand could go. And this doctor had me so primed and ready, I was about to not care. The skirt would hide everything. I was damn near ready to rip his pants off.
Down the beach, someone was playing a guitar. The notes dipped over and under the steady crash of waves on the shore. My feet and knees were buried in sand. But the rest of me was all over this doctor, work
ing him like a stripper in need of rent.
I had to bring this down. If my one-and-done didn’t come off as solid as I wanted, I might be tempted to go for two.
And that would be disastrous.
I was about to pull away, to break this spell, when he moved his fingers just a tiny bit along the edge of my panties. He brushed against a really sensitive part, and that was it, I couldn’t handle any more. I needed him. I wanted more.
I lifted away from him just enough to give him access, and he took it, slipping a finger inside the lace and into my body.
It accepted him greedily, and I clutched his shoulders, my head still buried against his neck, as he began to work inside me.
Lost. I was lost. Maybe a doctor knew all the good spots, or maybe he was lucky, but I was spiraling up so fast that there was no way to stop things now. I was whimpering, ready to beg, and shifting against him. But he got it, he knew the speed and the pressure and just how to curve his finger.
I quit caring what we might look like to spectators, locked together in the sand, and let the tension build, let him take me where I wanted to go. His breathing sped up alongside mine, as I tightened around him.
Then it all released, my muscles clenching and letting go, the pleasure coursing through me. I managed to stay quiet, to keep my voice below the crash of the water and the filtered notes from the guitar. But Darion heard me. He held tight to me, one hand steadying my back while he cupped me from below with the other.
I settled back down and he withdrew, holding my quivering thigh until I calmed. I hadn’t done this sort of thing before. Usually the conquests were streamlined and simple. We meet. We go out. We bang. Then I quit taking his calls.
But here I was with this doctor, fooling around in empty rooms, and now this moment on the beach.
What was I doing? Stalling? Stretching it out? Maybe I knew if I didn’t do the deed, I wouldn’t have to give him up after.
And I had told him about Peanut.
My belly heaved with a tightly held sob. I tried to pretend it hadn’t happened, but we were locked together, and Darion noticed. He squeezed my leg and turned his face to press his lips into my hair.
I remembered, all those years ago, sitting in the garage apartment my parents set up for me and Arnie after we told them about the baby. Arnie had loved to lie behind me, and run his hands over the fat bump of my belly.
I always thought it was so cool, here he was eighteen years old, and he got it. He knew how special this was. It was a thing. A thing to recognize and hold on to. I thought he was so into it. That we were on this road together.
I believed that he loved me and that he loved Peanut. But he didn’t. He just liked the attention, and the idea that we were rebelling in the most potent way possible. We got to be kids acting like grown-ups. When we actually had to be grown-ups, he blew.
He left me to manage it all by myself.
“What’s going through that complicated mind of yours, Tina?” Darion asked.
I didn’t want to let us get any closer. I didn’t want to be the tiniest bit more vulnerable than I already was. So, I said, “That people suck.”
He released me, taken aback, I’m sure. You don’t go around getting a girl off, then expect her to act all bitchy. But I was good at that.
I lifted my sand-encrusted leg from the ground and rolled off him. “Are we going to eat this fancy food or what?” He’d probably paid some ridiculous sum for the gimmick of a picnic.
Yeah, I was on a roll now. Poor doc. I opened the basket and yanked out the blanket. “That would have been handy,” I said.
Darion didn’t say anything, just sat there with his elbows on his propped-up knees. I wouldn’t look him in the eye. I already knew he was halfway out of my life. We’d do the deed, probably some other night, and I would move on.
It just didn’t matter.
Chapter 26: Darion
The next morning, I sat in my car a little longer than necessary before going into the hospital. I didn’t know what to do with Tina after last night. She had become a whole different person after our emotional encounter. Like she was a sullen teenager stuck with some boring grown-up who didn’t “get” her.
I took her home and didn’t go in. Didn’t let anything progress. It seemed wise to punt and try again a different day.
I couldn’t dwell on it. Today was Cynthia’s chemo day. I had pulled strings in Houston and gotten her in the trial of a new drug. We couldn’t even attempt a second stem cell therapy for months. I had to get her in remission. Had to. She didn’t have time to wait.
I walked inside the hospital and paused at the desk to check her morning stats. ANC was still low. No fever, thank God, so nothing had gotten to her despite her running around the hospital with no white cells to fight infection.
Still an alert on her urine. Damn. I had ordered a PET scan, but it wouldn’t be until after her treatment. If she had an adverse reaction, she wouldn’t even make the test.
I drew in a deep breath. Pretend she’s someone else. Don’t think about her expressions or her pain or her upset. Just worry about the treatment, the test results, the response to the medication, and take one problem at a time.
“Dr. Marks?” A woman I had never seen before waved at me from the other side of the desk. She was in her forties, friendly looking, like a den mother for a Boy Scout troop. I glanced at her badge. She was from administration. That explained the street clothes.
“I had a question about one of your patients going into a clinical trial today,” she said.
My senses went on alert, but I played it cool. “Jerry Fresno?” I asked.
“No, a girl, a pediatric case.” She glanced at her folder. “Cynthia Miller.”
I kept my face very neutral. “What was your question?”
“The consent forms aren’t all filled out. No mother or father.”
“Her mother is deceased.”
“And the father?”
“She has no father of record.”
“Is there a birth certificate available?”
I shrugged. “I don’t know. I’m not in charge of records.” I gave her a quick smile.
“Who is her legal guardian? I can’t even make out the signature here.”
“Would you like me to handle it? Since I’m supervising the administration of the trial?” I held out my hand for the file.
“I can talk to the family.” She held on to the folder.
I expected this. “I believe she has an aunt with her. Amy or Angela or something. She’s been signing the documents.”
“Perfect. I’ll take care of it.” The woman nodded at me and took off down the hall.
Damn it to hell. I’d carefully gotten all the documents in order so no one would look too carefully. I needed to get a medical proxy for Cynthia to handle these things, but I had no one, and I had hoped to have Angela around for a while before I could be certain I could trust her.
I could not let her trial be jeopardized. This drug was a breakthrough, a whole new way of fighting lymphoblastoma.
I pulled out my phone and texted Angela. “Busybody en route. Just smile and sign.”
This was the worst part. Lying. Involving a paid person in a lie. Relying on someone else.
I’d step up as her brother before I let them take away this trial.
My hospital phone buzzed. I was late for rounds. I had to get my head together. At least with all this going on, I had no time to think of Tina. In fact, I’d stay away from her hall entirely. Once I had Cynthia through the chemo round and she had gotten her PET scan on the kidney, I would think about my own life again.
I was fine. I would be fine. I could handle this. I had to.
Despite this fine proclamation inside my head and my razor focus as I met with three patients and their families, when I had to walk across the hospital to the pediatric ward, I couldn’t help myself. I took the hall that held the art therapy room.
I slowed down as I approached the wide window that
allowed visitors to see the patients at work. Tina had a group of very small children right then, all under five. Two aides helped corral the kids and keep them coloring. One little boy kept tugging on Tina’s sweater, and she smiled patiently down at him, putting the fat crayon back in his hand.
She seemed like her normal self again, happy and busy and willing to help. I didn’t know what to do to keep from upsetting her again. She didn’t seem to want anyone to get any closer than she allowed. I hadn’t even intended to let the evening get so emotional and passionate.
Or maybe I had. She had me in knots, that was for sure.
I realized I had stopped in the middle of the hall and was just staring at her. I had to go, or she would see me. And that wouldn’t help matters.
But I was too late. She turned toward the window, and I knew the minute she saw me. Her hand pressed against her chest. She must have made some sound, as two of the kids and one aide turned to follow her gaze.
I didn’t wave or anything. I just stood there like a big stupid statue. I didn’t even smile. She shook herself and bent down to the kids again. I waited a moment to see if she would glance back my way, all the time knowing that the aides were getting curious, but she never did.
Chapter 27: Tina
This had been the crappiest day ever. I rushed out during lunch to pick up painting canvases for me and Albert, struggling with the oversized bags on the bus. And then Albert had been too sick to come. I got a message from the nurses that he wasn’t well.
I asked if I could visit him, and they said no. And wouldn’t tell me what was wrong. I wasn’t family. I didn’t have clearance.
Then of course Cynthia wasn’t in her group. I remembered Darion had said that she had chemotherapy today. I expected him to drop by the room, say hello. I wasn’t sure how to talk to him after last night. I knew I had behaved badly. Some things I still didn’t do very well. Almost all of them involved men.
But he had just stood in the window, staring at me like I was a display in a zoo. Homo sapiens. Female. Prefers the wild. Gets vicious when trapped in emotional corners.
