Shadows of Memories (Baxter Academy)

by Charles, Jane

  “I still can’t decide,” I finally admit.

  “Tell you what, how about the platter with scrambled eggs, bacon, toast, hash browns and pancakes?”

  She can’t be serious. I was thinking a side of pancakes or eggs and toast. Not all of that.

  “Two plates.” She adds.

  Cole grins. “Perfect!”

  I guess I will be having a sampling after all.

  As soon as she takes our menus and leaves, Cole folds his arms on the table leans in and grins.

  What’s he about?

  “So, I’m dying to know, are all bachelorette parties like that?”

  “Like what?”

  He laughs and straightens. “I get the bar hopping and the drinking, but those goody bags…”

  My face heats. I can’t believe that Stephany bought all that stuff for each of us. It’s a great gag gift for the bride, but the rest of us? “Those were a first.”

  He leans back, relaxing against the red vinyl and grins. “I thought maybe I was missing something and there’s a secret to what all girls really want but are afraid to ask.”

  I want to die. “I didn’t even go through my bag.” I’ve got to think of another topic I’m sure as hell not prepared, or comfortable enough, to sit and talk about sex toys with Cole Harper. Especially in the middle of a truck stop.

  “Don’t forget you have a bunch of extras after cleaning out the van.”

  “I’ll probably toss it all when I get home.” That should discourage this line of conversation. I hope.

  His eyebrows shoot up and he puts a hand to his chest, as if in panic. “Tell me it isn’t so.”

  “It’s not like I’m seeing anyone.” I glance out the window to the rigs, all lined up evenly waiting for their drivers to return or wake up. I don’t want to see his reaction to my statement. Sure, we’ve spent a lot of time together over the past week, but it isn’t like we’re dating, are we? I haven’t really dated in almost a year and it’s been longer than that since I’ve had sex. Hell, maybe I should hold onto that lipstick vibrator. It’s about all the action I’m going to get anytime soon.

  “Or you’re just vanilla.”

  I sneak a look at him out of the corner of my eye. He’s grinning and I’m not sure if he’s teasing or not. And, he didn’t correct me when I said I wasn’t seeing anyone. Which means, I’m a friend and that’s it. I should be okay with it, but I’m a little disappointed. Actually, more than a little. A lot disappointed.

  “I can give you Morgan’s number. I’m sure she’d like to play with her new toys, and you.”

  Cole barks out laughter. “She is so not my type.”

  This time my eyebrows shoot up. A long legged, busty blonde is not his type. That’s practically all he dated in high school.

  “Little substance,” he clarifies.

  “She was drunk.”

  “That too and all the more reason to avoid her tonight of all nights.”

  “Really?” I thought tipsy girls were a favorite for most any guy.

  “In a relationship, tipsy is okay on occasion, when leaving a bar with someone you barely know, never.”

  I have to laugh. “I had you all wrong.”

  “My reputation for leaving bars with girls?” He frowns.

  “Well, if nobody knows where you’re going, people are going to jump to the more obvious conclusion.”

  “So, that’s what they told you at the shower. I couldn’t figure it out.”

  “I’m assuming this,” I gesture to our surroundings, “is the Cole Special.”

  He rears up. “The what?”

  “Cole Special. Didn’t you know they have a name for these dates?”

  Cole just shakes his head and relaxed back. “I just like talking to women. There isn’t anything mysterious or special about it.”

  “To them, it was.”

  “Then they need to meet better guys.”

  To think, I once thought he would be the last guy I wanted to spend time with. I was so fucking wrong and glad I know the truth now.

  He leans in again. “Did you notice how heavy those bags were? There’s a box in the bottom too, that nobody opened. What do you think’s in there?”

  My face heats again.

  “The stuff we saw was fine, but that box is quality, which means expensive,” he whispers just as the waitress approaches with a huge tray of food. Hopefully breakfast will distract Cole enough that he won’t remember what we were talking about.

  He gestures for me to fill my plate first.

  “You go ahead.” I’m happy with whatever he doesn’t take since I’m not all that picky.

  Cole rolls his eyes and then systematically goes about dividing the food, adding to both of our plates.

  “Don’t give me too much. Really.”

  He ignores me and continues to divide up the food and then leans back for the waitress to refill our coffee. Once she’s gone, he pours syrup onto a pancake and then leans in again. “It could also be nothing I’m interested it. Stephany certainly wasn’t expecting a guy to show up at the party.”

  “Probably scarves, makeup, boring stuff like that.”

  He narrows his eyes on me. “I doubt anything in that box could be called boring.”

  He’s probably right, but I’m not going to sit here and try and guess.

  “Consider it research into what women really want?”

  I roll my eyes and concentrate on my food. If Cole continues to talk about sex toys, I’m simply going to ignore him.

  Sex toys and Cole Harper in one night. If I was still that infatuated fifteen-year-old girl, I’d probably faint dead away, and not from embarrassment.

  He’s right about one thing, though. I am rather vanilla. My past boyfriends haven’t exactly been, shall we say, adventurous. The relationships were satisfying enough, but I can’t imagine any of them suggesting or willing to be handcuffed or wear a cock ring. Not that I’ve had that many partners, but they were all as boring as me.

  I glance up and look at Cole. Something tells me that he’d be far from boring in the bedroom, kitchen, living room, or anywhere else. I wouldn’t be surprised if he didn’t already own a pair of cuffs, or any other toy couples enjoy together. There’s a naughty streak to him that I wouldn’t mind experiencing.

  Not that I’ll ever find out or admit it to him. The fact that he brought me to an all-night restaurant and didn’t correct me about seeing anyone is proof that I fall into the Facebook friend category. Instead of notches in a bedpost list. I’m just another “like” for his page.

  Regardless, wondering what is in that box and the idea of Cole using it on me is making me hot. Hell, my temperature’s been increasing all night. Every time one of those toys were brought out and he glanced over at me with a seductive smile, I could have come right on the spot. Or, it wouldn’t take much but a lick or a flick. Even now I have to cross my legs to bring some relief.

  Yep, that lipstick is going to be seeing a lot of action. Probably as soon as I get home and am alone.

  “Where did you go to college?” he asks between bites of food.

  The question stuns me out of my thoughts and I focus on the question. “College?”

  He grins, as if he knows I was still thinking about sex toys.

  “Hunter.”

  “Did you like it?”

  “Sure. Made some good friends, got an education. Lived in the heart of New York for five years.” I’m not sure what he really wants to know.

  The waitress comes by the table, ready to refill our coffee. I probably shouldn’t be drinking so much. I’ll never get to sleep once I get home. “Can I have decaf please?”

  “Sure thing.” It only takes her a second to grab the other pot and then clear the table. Cole is sipping his coffee and studying me. And he’s quiet in a way he wasn’t before.

  He focuses his dark, serious eyes on me. “How are you doing?”

  He’s been with me all night and the question seems odd. “Okay. You?”
/>   He chuckles. “I meant, with your grandmother and the changes in your life.”

  I was trying to put Nana from my mind for tonight and did for a short bit. I blow out a sigh and take a drink of the strong coffee. “Okay.” He’s been with me most the week. Or at least, he had dinner with me at Nana’s a couple of times a week. He should already know the answer.

  “That isn’t really an answer. Okay can mean just about anything. I consider it a non-answer.”

  “Non-answer?”

  “What people say when they don’t really want to talk about something, or not sure how to talk about something, or just want to bury something.”

  “What do you want me to say? You’ve seen her and there’s little the doctor can do.”

  If my suspicions are correct, already Jenna feels defeated. Or maybe she’s simply overwhelmed. “It’s the very reason you should talk to someone. It’s not going to be easy living with her.”

  She frowns. “Like a therapist?”

  That’s not what I had in mind, though it couldn’t hurt, if there was someone she could trust and felt comfortable with. Dad slipped into depression, but at least his doctor got it and prescribed meds to help. “No,” he chuckles. “A friend.”

  Her light brown eyes meet mine for a moment and then she gives a quick shake of her head, as if dismissing me.

  She’s closing up and I can’t let her. Though I’ve spent time with her, we’ve not really discussed the problems Nana has or what is coming. Does Jenna think that by just moving in with her she can hold off the inevitable? Does she even realize what that is? Reaching over I close my hand over hers. “It’s not going to get easier, but a lot harder and I want you to know that I’m here for you.”

  “Thank you.”

  She may appreciate my offer, but that doesn’t mean she’ll call when things get hard. “I mean it.”

  “Okay.”

  “Look at me.”

  She lifts her eyes, but not her head.

  “I mean it. My shoulders can be comfortable.”

  This brings a small smile.

  “Do you have a plan?”

  “Plan?”

  Jenna can’t be prepared for what is to come. Nobody is. No matter how much you think you are, even when they figure it out in the early stages, nobody is ever ready to make the hard decisions. “There’s going to come a time when she can’t ever be left alone and I’m assuming you are not in a financial situation that will let you quit your job.”

  “I don’t want to think about that.”

  “Nobody does, but you need to.”

  “I can’t.”

  I don’t want to be the bad guy, and she may hate me, but if I don’t make her realize what she needs to do, it’s going to go so much worse for her.

  “Does she have nursing home insurance or anything like that?”

  “I don’t think so. I haven’t found any yet.” She narrows her eyes on me. “Aren’t you still curious about what’s in that box in the bottom of the bag?”

  Jenna isn’t going to get me off this topic as easy as she’d like. Of course, I’m curious, but this conversation needs to be had and it’s more important. “Somebody needs to ask that hard questions, Jenna.”

  “Why you?”

  “Because nobody else has a clue what to ask or what to do.”

  “And that person is you?”

  I lean back and study her. I assumed there’s nobody she can talk to. Maybe I’m wrong and she’s got it covered. If so, we can go back to talking about the toys, though I’d rather experiment with them, with her. “Okay, how many people do you know that have been the caretaker of someone with dementia or Alzheimer’s?”

  She purses her lips and says nothing.

  That’s answer enough. “Exactly! People our age don’t have to deal with that. Our parents deal with that. My grandfather was younger than most when he succumbed to the illness.” I grasp both of her hands in mine. “If you won’t talk to me, at least get advice from my dad.”

  “Why are you doing this? Why do you even care?”

  “I like you and I want you to know you’re not alone.” I more than just like her. She isn’t like the others that I wanted to talk to all night after a party and then have limited contact with through Twitter or Facebook. I want to see her as often as possible. Talk to her often. And, frankly, see what my feelings develop into. Already it’s beyond the like and friendship stage. At least for me.

  “I’m not alone.”

  “Yes, Jenna, you are. In this, you are very alone. You could have a million friends, but unless they’ve experienced what you are, they aren’t going to get it.” I look deeply into her eyes. “I am going to make sure that from now on, you aren’t alone in this.”

  She looks everywhere but at me. There’s a little watering in her eyes but in a few blinks, that’s gone. How much is she keeping bottled?

  I need her to know that I’ll be by her side from the beginning to the eventual end and beyond. I’m not sure if she’s been in denial up to this point or simply doesn’t know what to expect. It doesn’t have to be that way and shouldn’t. Gut wrenching decisions will be need to be made sooner than later and I’ll be damned if she has to face them without me to lean on. Dad had Mom, but it was mostly through telephone conversations. It was only easier when she was able to come home and he could be with her. I’m not even sure how he did it without crumbling under the weight of it all.

  “I always promised I’d never put her in a nursing home. She made me swear that I never would. I thought she’d spend out her days in the house grandpa built and die quietly in her sleep one day.”

  So, she has been thinking ahead. “Not putting someone in a nursing home is an easy promise to make when they are healthy.”

  “I know,” she whispers.

  “Give me your phone.”

  She blinks up at me.

  “Your phone.” I hold out my hand, palm up.

  She slowly pulls it from her bag and puts it into my hand. I add myself to her contacts and give it back. “Call me at any time of the day or night if you want to talk.”

  Eighteen

  I’m not sure what to think. The night was great, and I laughed more than I have in a really long time. It was good to be out and even better, sitting and talking with Cole. Until he wanted to talk about Nana.

  He should be a fucking psychologist. Getting me all comfortable and then springing the tough stuff on me.

  I nearly lost it in the truck stop when he promised I’d never be alone. He can’t make a promise like that. Neither one of us know what is going to happen tomorrow. I may have gone to school with him but that didn’t mean I know him. And, I can’t afford to lean on him or anyone else right now. Nana is my grandmother. My responsibility. And, I will take care of her. If I start leaning on people and crying, I’ll be useless.

  He is right though. There are some tough decisions to be made. I’ve already made a handful, but those were probably the easy ones. I have no idea what’s coming, but I’m sure it isn’t going to be easier. But, if I get support now, I’ll never make it. I have to stay strong. No crying, no getting help, just seeing it through and doing the best I can.

  That’s how Nana was, even when my parents were killed in a plane crash and then when her husband died from cancer.

  I never saw her cry. Not once. She raised me with love but also with discipline. To be strong and to face what life dealt me without tears, and that’s exactly what I intend to do.

  Cole did hit the nail on the head though. I can stay busy at school, burying myself with work I bring home, packing my apartment and helping with the wedding, but when it comes to the situation with Nana, I’ve never felt so alone before in my life.

  But, that doesn’t mean I need to be weak. One day at a time. One foot in front of the other.

  We really haven’t talked since leaving the truck stop. What’s there to say? Once again he reaches across the bench seat in his truck, grabs my hand, linking his fingers between m
ine and gives a gentle squeeze.

  “I certainly put a damper on the night didn’t I?”

  An inappropriate giggle bubbles up. “Yeah, ya did.”

  “You get why I needed to say what I did.”

  I look out at the scenery. The sun is just starting to come up. “Yes, and I appreciate your offer.” It’s more than anyone else has done. Then again, none of my friends, other than Dylan, really know what’s going on and what it’s like.

  He pulls the truck to a stop in front of my apartment and turns off the engine. Before I can say anything, he hops out and comes around to my side of the truck. I get out. I really need to get some sleep.

  “Thanks for the ride and the breakfast.”

  He reaches in and grabs my bag off the floor then takes my hand, walking toward the house.

  “I can let myself in. You must be exhausted.”

  “I’m seeing a lady to her door.”

  I roll my eyes but go along. It’s not like I’m tired. I should be exhausted, but I’m not. I shouldn’t have had coffee so late, or early, or whatever this is.

  We walk up the stairs and I find my keys and unlock the door to my apartment. Do I ask him in? If I do, will he think I’m offering more? Where do I even stand with Cole?

  He slips a hand around my waist and draws me close. I tilt my head up to look him in the eye.

  “And you’re wrong, by the way.”

  I really don’t want to talk about Nana anymore.

  “You are seeing someone.”

  I don’t even have a chance to respond before he lowers his mouth to mine.

  I nearly melt when his lips touch mind. Bracing one hand on his shoulder I give in. It’s a perfect kiss. Just like I always knew it would be.

  It’s also tender and loving, not heated as I expected.

  He pulls back and I blink up at him.

  “Get some sleep. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

  It takes me a minute to realize he’s let go of me. And I pull my hand back. “Tomorrow?”

  “Do you still want to take the boxes to your grandmothers?”

  Boxes? Oh yeah. “Yes.” I clear my throat because it’s suddenly dry. “Yes, I do.”

  He’s grinning at me as if he knows exactly how he’s affected me, or that he finally had me off balance. “What time?”