by Vicki Green
“Come here.”
Is he serious?
“Come on, I’m not gonna bite.” He raises an eyebrow.
I’m not so sure he won’t.
What am I so afraid of? It’s not like I haven’t had sex before. Of course, this will be the first time with a complete stranger. I watch him, watching me. Maybe it’s that I’ve had the second worse week in my entire life. Maybe it’s because I’m so stressed out and haven’t slept well the whole time I’ve been here. Maybe it’s because I vomited in some nice shrubs while he held my hair back. Maybe it’s because…
“Saige.”
My eyes go back into focus to his, and I purse my lips. Turning around, I walk into my closet, open the top built-in drawer and take out my favorite sleep shirt, pulling it over my head. Taking the towel off my head, I drop it on the floor and shake my head around, letting my wet hair fall all around me, making me sway a little. I’m a nervous wreck but truthfully, I’m too tired to care. Walking into the room, I flip off the light, the table light still lit on the nightstand on his side. He still has the covers raised so I climb onto the mattress and settle in as he pulls them over me. I lay on my back, looking up at the ceiling in anticipation. Suddenly, he turns off the lamp and slides an arm underneath me, grasps my arm and pulls me to him. The sound of my rapidly beating heart fills my ears. I feel his hand on the side of my face, turning it towards him and I can barely see his eyes by the little bits of moonlight peeking into the room through the slits in the blinds.
“I’m not gonna fuck you, Saige,” he whispers.
I’m relieved and sad at the same time.
“I am gonna kiss you,” he whispers again, and I freeze.
It seems like it happens in slow motion. His head lowers, lips parted. His mouth covers mine. Soft. Gentle. His tongue sweeps across my lower lip then the upper. My lips part for him, invitingly. His tongue doesn’t enter. Instead, he tilts his head, deepening his kiss. His fingers move into my hair. His arm tightens around me, bringing me closer. Never has a kiss affected me in this way. Tiny sparks move down my body. My toes curl. Butterflies set up in my stomach, fluttering around. I let myself go, without thinking, only feeling. I raise my hand, move it around his neck. My fingernails scratch up into his short hair. He moans. No man has ever reacted that way to such a simple movement. His tongue finally finds its way into my mouth, circling mine, exploring. My body arches on its own, my breasts pressing against his hard chest as my leg finds its way and drapes through his. I should be alarmed that his legs are bare. I should feel weird that he only has his boxers on, but I’m don’t. I’m lost in the moment. In him.
We kiss for a long time. No sounds in the room except for our panting. Suddenly, he stops and moves back but an inch. “Go to sleep.” Wait! What? I must look surprised because he chuckles – low. “I told you. I’m not going to fuck you.” He gets me all worked up and then doesn’t follow through?
“Who the fuck are you?” I whisper.
His thumb rubs across my cheek, tenderly. The look in his eyes – gentle.
“Someone who cares.”
I’m stunned. Most men that get a woman in bed would only want one thing and yet, he wants to sleep. He takes my arm and lays down, pulling it over his bare, flat stomach, causing my head to lay against his chest. Sexy. Sensual. “When I fuck you, it will be when you’re lucid enough to enjoy it,” he says into the darkness. How surprisingly caring, in a bad-boy mysterious way. “Now, go to sleep, Saige. You haven’t been taking care of yourself.” How does he know that?
Those are the last words I hear as I become so comfortable being in his strong arms and hearing his words, that for the first time since I’ve been here, I close my eyes somewhat in peace.
7
Everything started off innocently enough. Well, sort of. I mean, who sees a vision of the most beautiful woman in the world while they’re dying, only to see her again in the flesh after almost dying? It was like a dream but real. It took me a year after rehabilitation to find her then almost another year to end up in a town where I didn’t know she would be. Okay, so I never believed in fate or a higher thing that might bring two people together by chance. Although I’ll be damned if that isn’t what happened. Some people believe in signs. I’ve never really thought about it. When I awoke in the hospital, two years ago, and she was standing there, it was like my dream had come alive, so there just might be some truth in that.
When I spotted her in the bar, I thought I was hallucinating. How could that be? Last time I’d checked on her she was back at her apartment, far away from here. Yeah, I know. Stalker much? I have no choice. She lives approximately seven hundred fifty miles from here, give or take. That’s at least a twelve hour drive and that’s if you don’t stop. I know now that this is her home town, found out from some of the locals. I had no idea. I watched her closely, hidden in the darkness of the back table in the corner. She’s more than she was in my dream. So much more. It was like the vision was just a small taste. Teasing. She’s beyond beautiful yet not even knowing her, I can tell she isn’t taking care of herself. The color of her skin appears a little washed out. She looks thinner than when I’d seen her last, keeping a watchful eye on her. After finding her, I couldn’t take the chance of losing her again.
Last week, when I heard about her dad, my heart broke for her. It’s no wonder she came home. From everything I’ve found out since I’ve been here, she lost her mom and little brother from a car accident when she was young and her dad is all the family she has left. I can’t even imagine how she’s feeling.
I bought her a shot for her birthday, sad that she was sitting there alone. When I saw that big oaf rubbing up against her, the green monster inside me came out, and I wanted to pound that asshole into the ground. I took the higher road, for her, but I didn’t want to. Then I kind of felt a little stupid when she knew him. He still shouldn’t have touched her. When I held her in my arms, felt the curves of her body, took in her sweet scent, I couldn’t believe I was finally touching her, feeling her warmth so close to me. I wanted to take her home and fuck her until the sun rose in the sky, until I made her cum so many times she would be exhausted from the pleasure I gave her instead of her circumstances. I had to back off, make myself keep in control. She’s been through so much and without knowing her, I could tell she hadn’t been sleeping well or eating right. She has no one to take care of her. I aim to be the one.
I know I came off as an asshole. I was so angry with her. She’s a nurse, for fuck’s sake. She should know that to remain strong for not only her dad but for herself she needs to stay healthy. I’d also learned from questioning people in town that know her, she hasn’t been talking to anyone or accepting any help. Sometimes, you have to take the upper hand, and I figured a little sternness was in order. I hated hurting her in any way but in the end, she seemed to respond and obey. At least I got her to calm down, care for herself a little, and finally get some sleep. It didn’t hurt that I got to hold her in my arms all night, feel her softness, something I’ve longed to do for so long. When I kissed her, I was surprised when she kissed me back so readily. Her taste, her scent, so much more than I’d ever imagined. Believe me, I tried envisioning how her lips would feel against mine and how soft her skin is. I knew it would be perfect, that she would be incredible beyond belief, but I had no idea it could be like this. I’ll cherish this time with her because in the morning, she might hate my guts.
The biggest problem with all of this – I may very well be putting her in danger.
8
My eyes open slowly and I stare at my alarm clock on my nightstand. Seven o’clock. This may not be strange to anyone else, but I haven’t awakened laying in a position like a normal person – ever. I’m normally close to hanging off the side or at the foot of the bed. Yet here I lay, just like every other normal person. My hands are balled up under my pillow, and the covers are below my neck. Weird. Then last evening’s highlights start flooding my mind.
Shots.
<
br /> Dancing.
Hot mystery man.
Gorgeous in every sense of the word.
Throwing up in beautiful shrubbery. I scrunch my nose at that memory.
Being carried.
Told I smelled.
Oh. My. God! He saw me naked!
Whipping my head around, I see the other side of my bed is empty. Not only is he gone – he made that side of the bed. Did I dream him? That would be just like me. No. I couldn’t have. Could I? This week has been so strange with Dad’s diagnosis, feeling like my head is in a fog trying to wrap around it. Rolling onto my back, I feel and hear paper crinkle. Pushing my hand underneath me, I pull out a now creased piece of paper.
EAT!
AND I MEAN MORE THAN WHAT YOU’VE BEEN EATING
Reaching up, I touch my mouth. I’m smiling. So bossy. No. I guess I didn’t make him up. There’s something about him. He’s gorgeous, no doubt about that. He’s got an air to him, confident, authoritative, maybe. He’s got that bad-boy vibe, which I’ve never really been interested in before. There’s something else I can put my finger on. A familiarity. But that can’t be possible. We’d not met until last night. What is it then? I let out a sigh. I have too many other things to worry about right now.
Pushing off the covers, I pull my legs off the side, my feet hit the floor and I rest my elbows on my thighs. Dad’s being moved to the nursing home this morning for rehab. Today starts everything. It was already such a shock to find out I will eventually lose the last person in my family. I’m not sure what is hurting me the most: Dad having to go through this, his death, or the fact that I’ll be alone. Maybe all three. I know at some point Dad won’t really know what’s going on. That’s a little comforting. Very little.
After taking my shower, blow drying my hair until it’s only damp, I apply a little light makeup and brush my teeth. I had a bit of a déjà vu in the shower, remembering last night. I can’t believe he saw me naked. He seemed so angry, trying to get me to clean up, when all I wanted to do was go to sleep. It seemed like he was trying to take care of me but it angered him to do that. Or maybe it’s because he could see through my façade. So strange. Mysterious. By the time I put on a blouse and jeans, trying to look a little nice for Dad, I notice my phone on the nightstand, almost dead. Grabbing it, I plug it into the charger on my desk. A missed call. Just great. Luckily, there’s a voicemail. My heart beats so quickly as I click on it. I feel so nervous all the time, always expecting the worst anymore. It’s from the nurse, Betsy, telling me they’ve already picked up Dad and he’s on the way to St. Mary’s. Shit! I wanted to be there when he arrived. Grabbing my phone, I throw it in my purse and jog through the house. Once in my car, I start it up and plug my phone into the charger and wait impatiently for the garage door to open. “Please let me get there before he does,” I whisper as I look over my shoulder and back out of the garage and driveway.
Even though St. Mary’s isn’t far, of course I hit rush hour traffic, people going to work in town and the next one over. By the time I pull into the parking lot, I’m a wreck. St. Mary’s is a one level V-shaped building. There’s a courtyard in the middle that you can see from the street behind it. I’ve passed it so many times and never dreamed I would come here to be with Dad. That’s just how fast things can change. One minute you’re planning on coming home to celebrate your birthday with your dad and the next you’re putting him in a nursing home. You always see it in posts on Facebook or hear people talk about how things can change in a heartbeat but until it happens to you, you take it for granted. I guess I never thought anything like this would happen to me. To us.
Once parked, I grab my cell, shove it in my purse, and bolt out of my car. I run across the lot and into the front door, gasping for breath. I really need to work out more. I head to the front desk and ask if my dad is here yet and I’m told he’s on his way. Whew! I made it.
“If you’d like, I’ll show you to his room. That way you’ll be there when he arrives.” The woman at the desk smiles.
I nod and watch her walk around the desk then I start to follow. “Wait! Miss Benton?” I stop quickly and turn around. A young woman, appearing to be around my age, is walking quickly towards me. “I’m so glad I saw you at the front desk.” She reaches out her hand to me. “I’m Ella Brown, the director here at St. Mary’s. It’s so nice to meet you.” I shake her hand and give her a small smile. She seems nice, kind of perky, like Brooke. “I see Kerri is showing you to your father’s room. Good. We’re all on first name basis here. We like a friendly atmosphere. Homey.” I haven’t really noticed much of the surroundings yet. “Well, I’ll let Kerri show you around. Please stop by my office,” she points to a room on the side of the front desk, “before you leave. There’s some paperwork to tend to.” I nod as I watch her smile and walk back the way she came.
I feel Kerri nudge my arm and I turn around. We start walking to Dad’s room again. “Don’t let her perkiness get to you.” She smiles and lets out a laugh. “I’m Kerri Anderson, by the way.”
“Nice to meet you,” I reply. Everyone seems friendly enough. So far. Kerri looks to be a bit older but not like Betsy. Maybe in between, somewhere.
“Ella took over here after our last director retired. Thank goodness. She’s brought a fresh outlook here, one that was desperately needed. Sister Rosalie was older than dirt and treated the place like a convent. No music or TV in the living room area past a certain early time in the evening. No bingo or games.” Her eyes widen. “It was stifling and felt like everyone was an inmate.” She laughs again. We walk down to a hallway then take a left. There’s a counter before the turn with a nurse sitting behind a computer. “That’s the nurse’s station for this hall. She can update you at any time about your father. The offices behind it are Dr. Turners and the physical therapist.” She play smacks my arm. “Oh, the physical therapist, now, he’s a real looker. If I wasn’t married…” She didn’t finish her thought as I follow her into a room. The fourth room on the left, I make a mental note.
Right away I notice Dad’s name is on the door on a piece of paper slid into a long plaque frame. There’s an oversized twin bed with railings in the center of the room. A small desk against the wall beside a large window. To the right of it is a door leading into a bathroom. In front of the bed is a tall stand with a fairly large TV. Everything looks clean and tidy. Closing my eyes, I take a deep breath. I hope he’s comfortable here.
“As you can see, we pride ourselves on everything being clean and given a homey feel. You can bring in pictures, flowers, and…” She walks over to a dorm refrigerator located under a set of counters with cupboards above it, against the wall to the left of the door, and a microwave on one. “If he’s not on any special diet, you can bring food from home too.” She looks at me and gives me a small smile as she walks to me and puts her hands on my arms. “It’s rough. I know. Personally, I haven’t gone through anything like what you’re going through but I’ve been here long enough and I’ve seen a lot. I get so emotionally invested in each and every person here. God love them. Some don’t have any family.” She winks. “I spend a little more time with them than I probably should. Sometimes, I get home a couple of hours after my shift, just so I can sit with someone, or take one of them out into the courtyard for some fresh air.”
Sounds from the hallway alert me that it could be him and we both peer around the door. Dad. Two men in scrubs are rolling him in a bed towards the door. His eyes are open, and he looks around. Probably wondering what the hell is going on. When they get him close to his new room, he spots me. I put on a big smile. I step outside the doorway and let them pass, deciding to wait out here until they get him situated. Suddenly, I’m nervous. What if he doesn’t like it here? What if he doesn’t get better enough to come home? How long will all this take? I already called work on the way here and told them I was taking a leave of absence. How much money does Dad have? All my questions need answers. Deep down, I know I’ll have to move back home. How can I no
t? Dementia can be different for each person, and I won’t ever leave him alone.
By the time a headache forms, I hear Dad’s voice. “Saige?” I turn around with a smile and walk into the room. Kerri smiles and nudges my arm as she walks by and leans in.
“If you need anything, the bed is just like a hospital bed. There’s a button on the rail to call the nurse.” She winks, and I look down as I feel her squeeze my arm. I look back up into her kind eyes. “I’m here most of the time too.” She hands me her card, and I put it in my back pocket.
“Thank you,” I reply sincerely.
She gives me a wink and walks out of the room. I walk over to Dad and smile. “How are you this morning?” I hope he’s in the present and remembers me and why he’s here. As he looks up at me, I wait with my heart thundering in my chest.
“Ah, Saige. When did you get here?”
I breathe out a sigh of relief. I lean down and kiss his forehead then smile, genuinely for the first time since I got here. “I came as soon as I learned you were ill.” I reach out and place my hand on his arm.
“That’s the darnedest thing. I don’t even remember anything until this morning. Everything’s real foggy.”
I back up and sit down on the hospital-type plastic recliner. “It’s okay, Dad. The main thing is that you’re feeling better.” I smile. Really smile. I look around the room. “It’s a nice room.” He nods taking it all in.
We talk for hours. I explained how worried I’d been, what all happened, and what the doctor said. “I’m sorry you were worried. Well…” He scratches his head and frowns. “I guess we have some planning to do.”
