by Abbi Glines
I stopped, and with hesitation looked back at him.
“I don’t know what … how … you’re different. I want to see you, every day. But I can’t do a relationship. That’s not me.”
It was me. But it was me with Crawford. Not me with someone else. I wasn’t ready for a relationship with someone other than Crawford yet. How could I demand something I wasn’t prepared to do? Crawford would eventually wake up. I wasn’t giving up hope of that. Then what?
“I can’t do one, either,” I said simply.
“I understand that.”
Where did that leave us? Was I just supposed to accept him dating a different girl every night and still do things like date him and kiss him? Could I even do that?
“Can we date? Just not exclusive? See each other more?” He paused, then a small smile touched his lips. “And I want to touch you. I fucking dream about touching you.”
My heart slammed so hard against my chest I lost my breath for a moment. He wanted to touch me and the images suddenly running through my head were taking over. I wanted that, too. So I decided right then that yes, I could do that. It was all I could promise too. Asking for more was unfair when there was Crawford. Each day he didn’t wake up made it seem more real that he may never wake up. The longer he stayed in the coma, the worse the outcome. But I wasn’t ready to say that he never would. I wasn’t letting him go. Even if I realized now that things with us hadn’t been perfect. I had done so much to make him happy. I had changed me. I wanted to be me again. There was a chance he may not want that when he woke up. But I knew now I had to stop letting him make all the decisions.
“Yes,” I replied. I didn’t think about the repercussions or how I’d feel when I saw him with other girls. At that moment I just thought about how it felt to be with Slate and that my sadness seemed to dissipate when he was around.
He closed the distance I’d put between us, then placed his hands on my waist to pull me closer to him. Before I could even take a deep breath to calm my racing heart, his mouth was back on mine and I was holding on to his biceps again for fear my knees would give out on me.
This was enough. It was all either of us could promise the other right now. Or ever. That made my heart twist and I couldn’t think about why. Facing my feelings for Slate meant accepting things were changing for me. If Crawford woke up, I would go back to him. That was what I did know.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
BREAKFAST? WAS THE text that woke me up the next morning. It was Saturday and after ten, so it was time for me to crawl out of bed anyway.
I’d replied Yes. And then got up and quickly dressed. In the dark. Like always.
Slate met me outside my dorm with a cup of coffee twenty minutes later. After last night I wasn’t sure what to expect next, but this had not been it. His slightly-too-long dark hair was tucked behind his ears, and he wore a tight gray T-shirt with the Kappa Sigma crest on the front. The jeans he was wearing weren’t bad either. He definitely turned heads when he wore them.
“Morning,” he said with a sleepy smile. It was well after ten now, but it was still too early for him.
“Good morning and thank you,” I replied, taking the coffee.
“Sleep good?”
I nodded and took a sip. I had actually slept really well. I wasn’t sure if it was exhaustion or my decision to date Slate.
“You good with going in to Nashville and getting something to eat?”
The only other good breakfast place around here was the one where I had run out on him, and I didn’t want to remember that.
“Sure,” I replied.
“I need to go see my uncle, too. He’s back in the hospital. The chemo has been hard on him. Want to ride with me? Maybe stop by and see your folks?”
That I hadn’t planned on. Going back home and facing Crawford and my memories. I missed my parents and seeing them would be nice. Slate needed to see his uncle, and he obviously didn’t want to go alone.
“Okay,” I said before I could talk myself out of it.
“I’d like you to meet Uncle D. I told him about you this summer and he’s curious.”
“You told him about me?” I asked, surprised.
“Hell yeah, you were the most interesting thing happening up at the hospital.”
I had told Crawford about him, too. While I talked to him at night. I decided not to bring that up with Slate. We walked out to his Jeep and he opened the door for me. Again. Something Crawford had always done. Something I didn’t expect from Slate.
“Thank you,” I said, feeling almost ashamed that I was so surprised by this.
He smirked as if he knew what I had been thinking, then went around to his door and climbed in. His Jeep smelled of him. His cologne. I liked it in here.
When he pulled out onto the road, I glanced over at him and decided I didn’t really know much about him at all. He knew much more about me. But then, he’d asked. He’d tried to find out. I’d done nothing like that.
“Have you always lived with your uncle?” I asked.
“Since I was six. My dad ran off on my mom shortly after I was born. Never knew the man. And my mom died from a bad case of pneumonia when I was six. She didn’t have medical insurance and one day she just didn’t wake up. Her older brother was her only living relative and he came to pick me up.”
While he was telling me, my chest grew tight and began to ache. “How long were you alone with her before someone came to check on you?” I asked through the lump forming in my throat.
“When she didn’t wake up for a whole day I called 911. She’d taught me if I thought something was wrong and she couldn’t help me to call 911. I often wonder if I’d called sooner if they could have saved her. But I was just a kid. Uncle D helped me work through that guilt.”
All I had known was security. It’s all I’d ever seen. In my life and in Crawford’s. Now Slate was watching the man who had raised him slowly die and it seemed so unfair. He’d suffered enough.
After the accident I had been so focused on Crawford that I never considered how easy our lives had been until that moment. To me, nothing could have been as terrible. Yet it could have. Things could always be worse.
“You were smart to call 911. I don’t know if I’d have thought to do that at six,” I admitted.
He shrugged. “You would have. I think kids think things through and make smart decisions before adults do. Oftentimes adults panic and react poorly.”
There was so much I didn’t know about Slate, but the more I heard, the more I respected him. Sure, he liked to sleep around and he was aware that his good looks could get him his way, but his life hadn’t been an easy one.
“So you began working on a farm when you moved in with your uncle?”
He nodded, then grinned like it was a fond memory. “Yeah. Uncle D doesn’t believe in feeling sorry for yourself. He had me out learning to feed the chickens and getting their eggs the day after my mother’s funeral. I hadn’t even started my new school yet or unpacked in my new room. I worked two full hours on his farm before I got to go inside and get ready for school. It was hard work, but I think it was what got me through those first few months. Losing my mom, moving five hours away from the only life I knew, a new home, a man I hardly knew being all I had—it was a lot for a six-year-old to adjust to. The work on the farm helped me. I didn’t sit and think about it too much.”
When I was six, I was playing with dolls and begging to go to the park. The ice cream truck would come down our street playing its music loudly and I would meet Crawford outside to go get an ice pop. It had been a storybook life where nothing bad ever touched us.
“He sounds like a good man,” I said simply.
Slate chuckled. “Yeah, he is. He also uses foul language and says whatever he’s thinking. His temper is terrible, but he never hurts anyone. Just yells and fusses a lot.”
I looked forward to meeting him. Seeing another part of Slate’s life. The more I knew, the more I realized just how special he
really was. That was probably dangerous talk and I didn’t need to think of Slate as special. But I did … because he was.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
WALKING BACK INTO the hospital where I’d spent most of my summer was more difficult than I imagined. The things I’d been able to put out of my mind while I was at Bington were resurfacing. Like the night we’d come here after the wreck, and being told Crawford was in a coma. Not memories I liked to think about.
I wanted to see Crawford while I was here. Even if it wasn’t a scheduled time Juliet was prepared for. I was past letting her make all the decisions.
Every other nurse we passed waved, winked, and called out a hello to Slate as we passed. I was trying not to count them, but it was hard when it never seemed to end.
“Wipe that judgmental expression off your face. I didn’t fuck all of them,” he said a little too loudly as we stepped onto the elevator.
“I don’t have that expression on my face,” I argued, and he just laughed and shook his head.
I probably was making a face.
“Now you’re frowning,” he added, still grinning.
I glanced up at him. “Why are you watching my face?”
“Because it’s cute.”
Oh.
The elevator door opened and my thoughts went to meeting his uncle. This was important. I already respected this man. No matter how many times he cursed while we were in there.
“Uncle D was a big man once. The cancer has slowly beaten his body down. But when I was a kid, he was like the Incredible Hulk to me. He could do anything. It’s hard to see him so frail now.”
Slate was preparing me, or maybe he was preparing himself. The little boy in him needed reminding that the big man he knew wasn’t there anymore. The lump threatened in my throat again and I mentally scolded myself. I couldn’t get emotional. He needed me to be strong.
“Here we are,” he said, knocking on the door once before turning the knob and going inside.
“It’s about motherfucking time you got your sorry ass down here to see me. Hell, boy, I could be dead in a week.” A deep voice—not one I imagined from a frail man—filled the room.
“Stop your bitching. I’m here, ain’t I? And I brought something nice to look at.”
I stepped around Slate to see a man you could tell once had a big build, but his body was thin and pale now. The sickness had taken so much of him. His pale blue eyes met mine and he began to smile.
“Well, Jesus, Mary, and the cradle, it’s a woman that ain’t half-dressed and hanging on your arm like a common prostitute.”
“Uncle D, this is my friend Vale McKinley. I told you about her this summer. Her boyfriend is the one in a coma. Vale, this is my uncle D.”
He continued to study me. “How’s that boyfriend of yours? Opened his eyes yet?”
I shook my head. “No, sir. He hasn’t.”
He frowned. “Well, he better fucking hurry that shit up before you get hitched to someone else. Pretty girls like you don’t stay single long.”
“Have you eaten today?” Slate interrupted him.
His uncle shot him a disgusted look. “I ain’t saying nothing I shouldn’t. Stop trying to change the subject. And no, I ain’t eatin’ that shit they bring me. Pure ol’ horse dung would taste better.”
He turned his weak gaze back to me. “Now, you don’t go getting any ideas about this one.” He raised his gnarled hand and pointed at Slate. “He ain’t for the likes of you. He can’t stay with just one. Not in him. Sure as he realized he had a face that made women’s panties fall off, he started using it. Shame, it is. A good girl like you would be the thing to give him the life he always liked to pretend he had.”
“You gotta eat something,” Slate said. “What do you want? I’ll go get it.”
This time I had to cover my mouth from the giggle that bubbled up when Uncle D rolled his eyes before looking back at Slate. “Boy, if’n I want something to eat, I’ll tell you. Now stop being so goddamn rude and let me talk to this girl. She needs some wisdom from an old geezer like me who has seen it all.”
Slate sighed and walked over to the sofa under the window and waved his hand for me to have a seat. “Might as well get comfortable. I don’t think he’s close to easing up.”
I went over and sat down beside Slate. His uncle was entertaining, and I liked the way he and Slate bantered with each other.
“Now, tell me about school and how you’re both doin’. It’s important to get the schoolin’ or you’ll end up like me, working on a farm your whole life.”
Slate leaned back and crossed his arms over his chest. “I’ll let you go first,” he told me.
“It’s harder than I was prepared for, but I’ve been spending a lot of time in the library.” My cheeks heated at the mention of the library, and I hoped he didn’t notice. Thinking about Slate and the girl in the stacks wasn’t the mental image I needed at the moment. “It’s helped get my mind off everything else, though.”
Uncle D turned his gaze to Slate. “And you, boy? You still fucking in the library or you studying, too?”
A laugh burst out of me and Slate just shook his head. “You’re not even gonna give me a break with company here, are you?”
Uncle D raised what would have been his eyebrows if he hadn’t lost all the hair on his head and face to the chemo. “You thinking she don’t know? Hell, she’s heard it all about you, I’d wager. It’s a miracle she’s seen in public with you.”
“We’re friends,” Slate informed him.
Uncle D made a huffing noise and waved Slate’s comment away. “Ain’t nothing about that girl meant for friendship. You see her and you want her. She’s just too good and clean for ya. Or that’s what you think. But hear me now, ’cause I know what I’m talking about. That girl wouldn’t be here with you visiting your sick dying uncle if she didn’t care about you. So you get that shit out of your head and be smart. Be fucking smart for once. Don’t let the thrill of a skirt and easy sex mess this up for you. The best sex ain’t easy. You just don’t know it yet.”
If my face could get any warmer, I would be surprised. I knew I was blood-red. The heat radiating off my cheeks was enough to warm the room.
“Okay, that’s enough,” Slate said. “Let me get you something to eat. I think we’ve had enough wisdom for the day.”
But his uncle D wasn’t finished. He looked at me. “He’s been a whore. I’ll be the first to tell you. But that ain’t affected his heart any. That boy’s got the biggest one I’ve ever seen. When he loves, he loves big. He doesn’t let you down and he stands by you no matter what. I know it because he loves me. Don’t let his past mistakes and possibly his future mistakes let you miss out on being loved by a heart that damn big.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
THE AWKWARDNESS FROM Uncle D’s advice had eventually faded when he began talking about the hot nurse that hadn’t been in today and how he’d eat peanut butter and crackers if she’d feed him.
I enjoyed being around Slate’s uncle. He was right: Uncle D had no filter and said whatever he was thinking. Every time I remembered he was sick and dying, my heart ached. I didn’t like to think of him being gone. The love and respect in Slate’s face when he looked at his uncle was obvious. It also made complete sense as to how Slate had turned out the way he had.
Next we headed for Crawford’s room. I wasn’t sure what made me more nervous—having Slate with me or Juliet’s reaction to the sight of me.
“Why don’t you go on in alone? I’ll get a Coke and wait out here.” I could argue with him that no, he should come, too, but I didn’t. Because the idea of him coming with me was part of what was making me nervous. It wasn’t like Crawford would see us together and know something. It just … it was cheating. At least, that’s what it felt like.
“Okay,” I agreed. He squeezed my hand.
“Go see him. Talk to him. I’ll be waiting.”
That. That right there was what made Slate special. It was hard to
pretend he wasn’t special when he did things like that. What guy was so understanding in a situation like this? I hadn’t known one.
I knocked on the door lightly before slowly opening the door and stepping inside. Juliet was, of course, sitting by Crawford’s side and a book lay open in her lap. Her eyes locked with mine and her eyebrows rose in surprise.
“Vale, I didn’t know you were home,” she said, studying me.
“I’m just here today. I wanted to come see him. I should have called. But it was a last-minute decision.”
She seemed to be okay with that. Thank goodness. “I’m sure he’ll be happy to hear your voice. Knox was here a few days ago and read to him. I think he had more brain activity. He needs voices other than mine.”
I walked over to the side of his bed. “He looks good,” I said, not really meaning it. He was thin. Nothing like the muscular athlete he had been. It was hard to see him like this. I wanted him to open his eyes and look at me.
“Yes, he does look better these days. I think he’s getting ready to wake up soon.” The hope in her voice was clear. I hoped the same thing, but saying it was difficult.
She stood up. “I’ll let you talk to him. I need to go get something to eat anyway. Take your time.”
This was different. Very unlike her, but then, I wasn’t camping out in the waiting room anymore. I nodded.
When the door closed behind her, I looked back down at Crawford. So many memories. Where once I had thought it was all good things, I knew now that there were memories that weren’t so good. Like the way I had changed for him. Without meaning to. That would never be the same. When he woke up, I wasn’t doing that again. I loved him. He was a part of every memory I had of growing up. But I had to be me. And he had to love me for me.
“College is a lot like we imagined. I’ve made friends. You’d like them. You’d like everything about Bington. It was a good choice. I’m glad you picked it. Even if I hadn’t been on board at first.”
He lay there sleeping. So I talked more. “I miss you, but I’m finding a way to move on. To live. Life without you seemed impossible at first. I wasn’t willing to even try. But I knew you’d want me to. So I am.”
