by J. L. Mac
Hemingway’s wet nose nudges against my ankle. I peek down at him. “Want to have some dinner, little guy?” He sits pretty and looks up at me with his big brown eyes. “It’s just me and you. Let’s eat, handsome.”
I eat my soup alone; ok, with the dog, and clean the kitchen. I’m amazingly not completely miserable about it, either. At least I know he’s feeling hungry. Feeling something is a start, right?
Hemingway has finished licking his little dish clean and hops around at my feet. “Okay. Okay. Let’s go outside.” I scoop up my little guy and sling my bag over my shoulder.
I give Howard a wave on our way outside. He smiles curtly as usual. I reach into my bag for Hemingway’s leash then clip it to his little collar. I walk him around in the small patch of grass we frequent until he’s ready to go back inside. I dig out the “Doggie Doodie” bags that I got from that pet store and clean up after the brat. He loves being outside and always makes sure to take his sweet time walking around.
When I open the door to the penthouse, Damon’s in the foyer looking flushed. “Where are you going?” he demands. “Are you leaving?”
I scrunch up my eyebrows and shake my head. “Nowhere. Hemingway wanted to go out for a walk. We just came back in.”
Damon nods, clearly content with my response. I guess I should’ve told him where I was going. He must have thought I was leaving again. Shit. I unclip Hemingway’s leash and set him on the floor. I step in towards Damon, placing my palm on his sculpted jaw. He closes his pained eyes.
“I love you, Damon.”
He doesn’t respond and it hurts like hell. I know he loves me, even if he doesn’t say it. My hand falls from his face as he steps away from me, inhaling deeply and running his hands through his hair. My Big Man is so tormented right now, poor guy. I just wish I knew how to help him.
“I’m going to bed, I guess.” I scoop my little man up from my feet and make my way up the stairs. I kiss Hemingway’s furry head and put him in his kennel. He flops down in his plush little dog bed and sighs contentedly. This guy is living the sweet life.
Damon disappears into the closet as I head towards the bathroom. I need a shower and a good night of sleep. I’m emotionally exhausted from today’s events. I strip my clothes off and step into the shower. The warm spray soothes my tense muscles. My head hangs and my shoulders slump. I miss him. My Damon would be in here with me right now. He has always showered with me. I want him back so badly. I’ve lost him. I just hope it isn’t forever. I wash myself and linger beneath the water for what seems like hours. Finally, I shut off the taps and step out. Goosebumps spread across my skin and I shiver when the cold air hits me. I towel dry my body and hair as fast as I can and bolt out the door, making a beeline for the closet. I dig through the clothes that Damon bought for me, searching fruitlessly for something resembling pajamas.
I feel his eyes on me and I turn to see him leaning against the door frame, watching me. My towel is on the floor and I don’t have a stitch on; I feel uncharacteristically modest. He holds his big hand out to me and my heart nearly stops. It isn’t much, but I’ll take it. I don’t hesitate, walking to him and putting my hand in his. He turns and leads us to the bed, where he strips down to his skin and pulls the covers back. We both crawl into his big bed. I turn onto my side to face him; his arm curls around my waist and drags me closer to him. It feels like breathing after holding my breath for a lifetime. I nuzzle into him. His chin rests on top of my head. I kiss his bruised chest and savor this moment.
“I’m trying,” he whispers.
“I know.”
He doesn’t utter another word. I feel his body relax as sleep closes in.
“I love you,” I whisper, barely loud enough for even me to hear. I close my eyes and drift. Consciousness fades as dreams of him confessing his love take over.
***
I woke up to a note this morning.
I have things to get done. Be back. –D
It wasn’t exactly how I wanted to start the day, but at least I slept in his arms last night. I really shouldn’t complain. He said he’s trying and I believe him. It’s just going to take a while for him to get there, like Grams said. In the meantime, I’ll give him whatever he wants, including “myself” via kinky detached sex. Indifferent sex used to be my preference, and now I find myself feeling robbed and cheap for having it. It doesn’t matter, though. If it’s what he needs, I’ll oblige him. I’ve dealt with much worse.
I pick up his note and examine it again. He didn’t say where he was going or when he’d be back. I check the time on my cell phone, then type out a text message for him.
Lunch with Grams today. See you after?
I wait for a response but nothing comes. Part of me can’t help but worrying about him, so I shoot Brian a text in hopes that he’s with Damon.
Is he with you?
“You can’t come with me today, Hemingway. No dogs at the old folks’ home. Be good.” I ruffle his fur then grab my bag. In the elevator, my phone chirps. Whew. A text from Brian.
Yep. Working. Don’t worry, honey.
I inhale deeply, relieved that he’s with Brian. I know I don’t have to worry about anything when Brian is with him. He always says he does all the stuff a wife would do but none of the perks. He’s a character. On my way to see Grams, I stop at The Diner to pick up lunch for us. I haven’t been there in weeks, actually, and I called ahead because I didn’t want to have to wait forever and make small talk with Noni. The last time I was here, Damon was with me and she was acting like a weirdo. Maybe she was pulling a Grams and thinking about hitting on a younger man.
Noni bounces right over when she sees me come in, making her way over to me with a big smile. “Hey, where’ve you been, girl? I was actually starting to worry that you got sick of this old place. Lord knows I’m sick of it.” She grins and I do my best to seem legit when I laugh at her little joke.
“Oh, Damon and I went out of town for a little while. He just wanted to get away.”
The ongoing story is that Damon and I have been on vacation. Brian was a lifesaver when he spread the rumor and held down the fort for him while he was recovering. No one knows about what happened and we plan to keep it that way.
“Oh, how nice! Where did he take you?”
Brian told everyone that we went to Miami for some time on the beach. Score another for Brian. He probably sent people postcards and everything.
“Miami. It was really nice,” I lie.
“Where’s the glowing beach tan, girl?” Her eyes scan me head to toe.
“A-ah,” I stutter, thinking fast. “We didn’t, um, spend much time out of our hotel room.”
Noni’s eyes get huge and her cheeks blush a flaming red before heading to the kitchen for my takeout order. She returns in a flash, holding out the paper bag with our lunch in. I slide the cash across the counter.
“Don’t disappear on me again! And bring that handsome boyfriend of yours around more often!”
I wave over my shoulder at Noni the Cougar and hurry to my car with our burgers. Another good thing about Frank is that I never have to worry about takeout getting cold. The heat index has got to be 105 degrees, so it must be at least 102 inside Frank. I get my ass over to Grams just as quickly as I can without getting a ticket, just so I can get the hell out of the car and enjoy some air conditioning.
When I make it to Grams’ door, I knock twice and walk in. “Lunch is here!” I say in a singsong voice. I’m shocked to see Andy sitting beside Grams in casual clothes.
“Yum! Let’s eat,” Grams says as her wrinkled hands clasp together in anticipation. Damn, it’s just a burger. Granted, they’re the best burgers in town, but it’s not caviar or anything. I drag her rolling table over to her bed.
“No, no. We can eat at my table.” She gestures to the dining table in the corner of the room. I’ve never seen her use it before.
I arch my eyebrows at her as she straightens herself in the bed to get up.
“Co
me on Andy, we can share.” She smiles wide at him and he looks like a deer caught in the headlights.
“Yeah, okay, I can hang out for a while longer. Hey, Jo.”
I smile politely at him. “Hey. No uniform today?”
“Nah, I’m not technically working today but I told Bee I would come by and take care of those scuff marks on the wall.” He motions with his chin towards Grams’ freshly painted wall; all evidence of the bogus cane damage is gone. She’s such a con. It’s hilarious.
“Isn’t he nice, Jo?” Grams purrs.
“Yep, that’s great.” I open the paper bag and start digging out our lunch as Grams settles in on her side of the small dining table. She got all dressed up for him too. She’s got on one of those velour jogging suits that old ladies like to wear. It’s royal blue and ridiculous looking. I catch a glimpse of one of her socks and I am not shocked in the slightest to see that they match her outfit perfectly. Royal blue socks. I’m not even sure where the hell to find colored socks like that. The whole outfit has me wanting to burst out into a fit of laughter. When the hell is Grams going to go jogging?
“Wanna share?” Grams slides her burger and fries towards Andy.
“Oh, no ma’am. I already had lunch.”
She nods and smiles at the poor sucker, diving into her burger with a reckless abandon I thought was reserved for circus peanuts.
Andy’s attention turns to me. “So, Jo, what do you do?”
Seriously? I catch myself before I roll my eyes at his clichéd attempt to make conversation. “Um, I run a bookstore.”
He pretends to give a damn, asking lots of questions about the bookstore, how long I’ve been there, yada yada, which only makes the urge to roll my eyes more difficult to resist.
“Yeah, Damon bought the whole store just so he could date her. Can you believe that grandson of mine?” Grams chimes in.
Andy sends a charming smile in my direction and nods knowingly. “Is that what I’d have to do to date you? Buy you a bookstore? Or a hardware store, maybe?”
I nearly choke on a damn French fry. He reaches over and pats me on the back.
“I’m fine,” I croak out. He keeps his hand on my back and rubs in a circular motion. My eyes water like I’m crying. That’s what I get for inhaling a fucking French fry. I gulp down some of my soda and clear my throat. “That’s funny, but I’m in a relationship.”
Andy’s hand drifts from my shoulder blade to my upper arm.
“You are?” Grams pipes in.
Of course I am. Way to back me up, smartass.
“She is,” a booming voice confirms.
I snap my attention to the doorway. Damon is standing there, looking less than thrilled but oh-so-handsome in his dress shirt and slacks. He’s back to dressing for work already, which means he must’ve been meeting with people. That’s a step in the right direction, I guess. His face is clean shaven, his hair has been trimmed; he physically looks like the Damon I know and love. He’s glaring at Andy, who doesn’t look particularly bothered by Damon’s presence. They’re sizing each other up, though, I just know it. I can practically see the pissing contest getting started. Men. I scoot my chair back from the table to get Andy’s hand off of me.
“Damon! Get over here and hug me, boy!” Grams calls around a mouthful of burger.
Damon’s attention turns from Andy to Grams and he does as she says. “Grams, I came to steal Josephine from you. We have some things to take care of.”
“Okay!” Grams chirps happily.
Of course she wants me out of here. Poor Andy is going to be stuck with her, but I’m all too happy to oblige. It’s been awkward as hell in here.
“I want you to call me later. We have to talk.” Grams points her finger at Damon authoritatively.
“He will.” I assure her as I stand and sling my bag over my shoulder. I make my way around the table and lean over to hug Grams. “Use protection,” I whisper only loud enough for her to hear. She cackles and bats her hand at me playfully. I smile politely at Andy.
Damon’s hand goes proprietarily to the small of my back, no doubt to usher me from the room. His hand falls away once we’re in the hall. I’ve begun to expect at least some degree of rejection from him, so his distance doesn’t surprise me. It disappoints me, of course, but it doesn’t surprise me at all. He was just doing that to show Andy that I’m his.
“Where are we going?” I speed walk beside him as he takes long, easy strides out of the building.
He flicks his wrist to open his sunglasses and puts them on. He’s irresistibly attractive even acting like this. Maybe particularly acting like this. “To get rid of Frank.” His eyes stay straight ahead as we cross the parking lot.
“And why in the hell would I do that?” I know that my piece of shit car isn’t anything to brag about, but it’s mine; bought and paid for with my own money. It was a big deal for me when I bought Frank.
“It barely runs and has next to no safety features. Most women would love a new car.”
“Well I’m not most women, am I?” I snap at him.
He stops abruptly, causing me to nearly collide with his back. He turns to me and snatches his sunglasses off his face. “You are most definitely not most women, Josephine, and that’s why you won’t be driving that piece of shit car or hanging out with maintenance men who have no shame in undressing you with their fucking eyes!” He growls at me and uses his sunglasses to point at me. He’s pissed. No. He’s livid. Jealousy is kind of hot on Damon. He puts his glasses back on and keeps walking towards his BMW.
“Lots of men undress me with their eyes. He isn’t the first and he won’t be the last,” I admit honestly.
“Don’t toy with me by trying to make me jealous, Josephine. I won’t tolerate it.”
“Well excuse the hell out of me. I wasn’t trying to make you jealous. You’re doing a bang up job of it all on your own, Big Man.”
“Keys.” He holds his hand out, waiting impatiently. I’m surprised he isn’t tapping his foot.
I hesitate for a moment to think about this. I worked hard to buy Frank. I saved and saved for what seemed like forever. I wouldn’t mind a new car; no one would refuse a new car. Let’s be honest. I’ve had Frank for a long time. Over five years. He’s been a loyal car but Damon is insisting on a new car; a safer car; a less obtrusive car. What’s so wrong with accepting? I glance up at him and his outstretched hand. An idea hits me and I feel like patting myself on the back. Give and take is the name of this game.
“You want me safe?” I probe, plan in place.
“Yes,” he says, sounding all kinds of exasperated.
“You want me happy?”
“Yes.”
“Why?” I lean in towards him. I’ll coax the words out of him if I have to. I have no shame. I know he loves me but he has yet to say it since he woke up in the hospital. “Say it.”
“Because I love you,” he says without even looking me in the eye and sounding resigned.
His words are music to my ears. I conned him into saying it, but I’ll take what I can get. If dragging it out of him means I saying goodbye to Frank, then so be it. It’s a worthwhile trade, in my opinion. I smirk and remove my rabbit foot key chain before dropping the key to Frank in Damon’s big hand.
“I love you, too. A whole lot more than Frank,” I admit truthfully. He opens the passenger door of his BMW for me while messing with his phone. Calling Brian to come get Frank, no doubt.
“More than any car, Damon,” I whisper, not even sure he can hear me. “More than anything.”
***
Three car dealerships, two very public staring contests, and one macho display with his checkbook later, I have a new SUV. It’s a damn nice SUV, but it was entirely too expensive, especially for someone like me. I told him if I was getting anything, it was going to be middle-American and average. I didn’t want the damn Volvo XC90. I could have gotten a Nissan Rogue for half the price of the fancy ass Volvo. The only reason he won the argument was bec
ause he dragged Hemingway into it. He knows I take him nearly everywhere with me and he just had to tell me that he thinks the Volvo is safer for both me and our dog. Ridiculous! I’m not a soccer mom, we have a DOG!
My argument was based on price and coolness of the name. Nissan Rogue. It fits me. It fits him. It fits both of us. Needless to say, my argument about coolness lost to his safety specs. I guess he’s right. I’ll give him that much.
And I did get to choose the color. It’s a beautiful dark blue. Damon had no objections to the color so blue is what I got.
“Is it really necessary for you to be this stubborn all the time?” Damon opens the door to the penthouse and motions for me to go in ahead of him.
“Is it really necessary for you to have a pissing contest everywhere we go? Next time just whip it out and show them how big it is.” I work hard to keep my grin at bay.
He cuts his gaze to me and gives me his best evil eye. It’s hilarious. Men are peculiar creatures. I guess I should be the bigger person and get it over with. I drop my bag on the glass end table in the living room and march right over to my irritated man.
“I love the car. Thank you. And sometimes I do like having pointless arguments with you,” I confess as I stand toe to toe with him. I lift my hands to his chest.
His sculpted muscles bulge against his dress shirt. He inhales deeply and unclenches his jaw. “Why ?” he grumbles.
“I think it’s the prospect of having makeup sex. It’s just so enticing.” I snake my arms around him and lean my cheek against his chest, careful to avoid his bruises. “Plus, I just want you to talk to me.”
“I told you I’m trying,” he says quietly.
I can hear his heartbeat speed up; this must be making him anxious. I don’t want to push him and he does seem to be taking baby steps in the right direction. I nod against his chest. Patience. It’s never been my strong point.
His hands start at my shoulders then slide down my arms. He pulls my arms from around his waist to free himself. Back to arm’s length.
