Missed Connection

by K Larsen

  I brush some hair from her face. “Are you cold?”

  “No.” She shakes her head. “Aftershocks.”

  I laugh and let some of my weight rest on her. She glows in the dim light with a beautiful radiance. I pump slowly in and out and revel in her petite shudders. I pull out and roll to the side, but bring her with me. I pull at the condom and toss it into the trash next to the nightstand. Jess rests her head on my chest, her fingers trace lazy patterns over my abs.

  “That was, perhaps, better than my fantasy,” I admit.

  “I can’t make words,” Jess says. I chuckle and kiss her temple.

  “Then don’t. Let’s just enjoy this moment a while longer.” I pull the blankets up over us. Jess throws a leg over mine. Nothing has ever felt this right before. No single moment in my life could have prepared me for being with Jess. Everything just clicked into place. I stroke her hair and whisper nothing and everything into her temple. I love the feel of her skin against my lips. Her breathing falls into a slow, steady pace and I know she’s fallen asleep. There is nothing better than knowing I’m going to wake up in the morning with Jess in my arms. The world feels like it holds endless possibilities for me as I drift off.

  Flutters across my chest and abs raise me from a deep sleep. I squint one eye open. Jess is kissing, no, barely grazing her lips all over me. Blond hair trails behind her lips, tickling me. I lift a hand and run it through her golden hair.

  “Morning,” she whispers on a smile. I grab her under her arms and drag her up onto my chest. Jess giggles and leans in to kiss me. I let my fingertips run against her flesh up and down along her back lightly, as she shows me exactly how good of a morning it is.

  “We should put some clothes on.”

  I frown and pull her body to mine flush. “Clothes are overrated.”

  “Ty, the kids will be up soon. It’s six already.”

  I glance at the clock. I can’t remember the last time I slept in so late and groan. “Damn.”

  “You need to get Luke off to school.”

  “And we need to get your car picked up. Can I, at least, convince you to shower with me?” I ask with a grin. Her eyes light up with mischief and a smile takes over her face.

  “I think that can be arranged,” she says. Again, I feel immortal. That smile makes me feel eight feet tall. She pops up, taking the blanket with her. Her naked body is perfection. I watch the way her muscles contract and release as she stands and walks to the bathroom. “Coming?” she asks. I nod. My body starts to burn and fantasies about Jess using her mouth and voice on me in creative ways, plays out in my mind like a movie reel.

  Here we are saying goodbye already and I feel like a jilted teenager in love. I want every minute with him, even the boring tedious ones, like watching him sleep or seeing him go about his busy day at work. I want endless hours curled up in bed, with the phone glued to my face while I twirl the cord around my fingers and listen to him breathe, while my parents threaten to take the phone away, if I don’t go to bed.

  I don’t know if I’ve ever had this feeling of infatuation, giddy and restless all at once, the sound of his voice and his smile doing ridiculous things to me, sparking reactions that ring all the way to the tips of my toes.

  “I’ve got everything in the car, Mom. Looks like we’re ready to go.” Angie says, her hair bobbing in its high ponytail. She’s being indulgent with me, I can tell she really wants to get going. She’s got her own Prince Charming at home and no matter how close we are, no one is that enthusiastic about their own mother’s love life.

  “Okay, we’ll be right out, just give us a minute.”

  “You don’t have to ask twice, guys. I don’t want to watch you make out.”

  Ty smacks my butt as soon as she walks out of the kitchen.

  “I’ve got a mind to drag you back upstairs and take you all over again.”

  I’m breathing hard already and trying to memorize his scent—the feel of his hands desiring me, and the profound physical awakening he’s given me in the last few days.

  “Me, too, I want you a hundred more times. Until it hurts, until we can’t anymore. I need a thousand more weekends wrapped up in your arms.”

  “Jesus, Jess. You’re making my dick hard. We’ll figure out another visit as soon as possible. I want more of you, too. I’ve already got planned all of the dirty things I want to do to you.”

  “It’s going to be a long ride home, I’m glad Angie is driving. I want to mention something really quickly and I should have brought it up earlier.”

  “What is it, babe?” he asks, concern dimming the brightness that was all over his face.

  “We have to be low profile with this, until the divorce is finalized. It’s not like there will be much press up here, but John is a public figure and you know how that goes. His lawyers asked me specifically—especially while they deconstruct the pre-nup.” I feel like a jerk saying it. Like it somehow qualifies our love as not being important, not good enough for the shitty tabloids that would write it up.

  “Okay, I know the guys at work will ask, can I say anything to them?” he looks disappointed. I’ve hurt his feelings, which was the last thing I wanted to do.

  “Probably not, Titan. Just to err on the safe side. I’m sorry, it’s ridiculous, I know. But bad press can hurt John’s campaign, so they’ll go to great length to stop it. They aren’t beyond threats or intimidations, so it’s best to keep it quiet.”

  “I was looking forward to telling everyone. But I can wait, if we have to.”

  “Just this one thing and then we’ll shout it together from the rooftops, as soon as it’s finalized. You can come on the show and I’ll publically strip you of your title, most eligible bachelor, in front of everyone.”

  “I like the sound of that,” Ty says. He wraps his arms around me and hugs me to his chest.

  “I can’t wait already, until I see you again.”

  He kisses my tears away and touches his lips first to my cheek and then my lips. Reluctantly, with a sinking feeling in my chest, I let go of his hand and walk back toward the life I was so eager to run away from.

  I adjust myself and stretch out a bit. “I’ll be okay. It’s an outpatient procedure.”

  “I’m worried for you,” she says and it melts my heart.

  “I don’t really know what I am doing but I didn’t anticipate you to affect me this much Jess, being apart is torture,” I say into the receiver.

  “That sounds like an ‘I miss you.’” Her voice is soft and melodic.

  “It is. It’s a giant I miss you. Two days feel like an eternity. I want to come see you this weekend.”

  “Really? You’d make the drive? It’s Halloween weekend though, what about Luke?” She sounds surprised which makes my heart ache. She should know, believe how much I want to see her.

  “Of course, I would. Luke has a football game Friday night, but I could leave after that. He doesn’t trick or treat. There’s a Halloween party Saturday night at his friend, Dillon’s house, anyways, he can stay there for the weekend. I’d be pretty late getting to you but it’s worth it.”

  Luke yells from the living room. I check the time. Nine p.m. “Jess, I have to run, but think about it. I’d love to see you—the sooner, the better and this weekend is the soonest I can arrange.

  “It’s okay. Go be with Luke. Let me just make sure my schedule is clear and I will let you know tomorrow when we talk,” she says. I smile into the phone.

  “Sounds good, babe. I’ll text you goodnight.”

  “Alright. Looking forward to it.”

  “Bye, Jess.”

  I hop off the bed and trot downstairs to watch a show with Luke. He’s got something queued up already and a glass of water on each side table.

  “You ready for tomorrow?”

  “Yes. Luke, I’ll be home by six. It’s just a couple hours in the recovery room. Rusty’s driving me. You can relax, Bud, a biopsy isn’t too invasive.”

  “I know,” he says.
>
  The room is chilly as I lay here on my back waiting for the general anesthetic to kick in. Dr. Hemphill told me not to worry about a thing, but I can’t help be nervous. They’re making small incisions in my abdomen and removing small pieces of tissue. It sounds like a bigger deal than it is.

  “Titan, how’re you feeling?” Dr. Hemphill asks.

  “Like elephants. Sitting. Eyelids.”

  “That’s good. Just relax.” Is the last thing I remember hearing.

  After a few hours, waking up and getting my legs under me again, I’m feeling alright. I assumed I’d be in pain, but I’m not really. Just sore where the stitches are.

  “I’ve scheduled a follow-up visit for a week from today to explain the results, once they’ve come in.” Dr. Hemphill says.

  “Sounds good. What time?”

  “Nine a.m., it’s all I had open.”

  “That works. So, am I clear to go home, Doc?” Dr. Hemphill smiles at me.

  “Yup. Do you have your ride all lined up?”

  “Rusty should be in the waiting room.”

  “Good. I’ll let him know you’ll be out in a few minutes. Your clothes are right there,” he points to the chair in the corner of the room.

  “Thanks, Doc. See you next week.”

  I gingerly get out of the bed. I’ll be moving a little slower than normal, apparently. I get my clothes on and pull my phone from my back pocket to text Jess that all is well, while heading to the waiting room to find Rusty.

  Rusty is all jittery from free cups of coffee and when he sees me, he has a thousand questions for me. I try to answer them all but I’m feeling quiet and slightly withdrawn, which I think is irritating him. Every pothole the truck hits sends a wave of agony through my midsection.

  “Rusty, you’ve got to go slower,” I complain.

  “Sorry. I really should have skipped that third cup of coffee.” His fingers drum a beat to the radio.

  “Edie made a casserole and sent it home with Luke after practice today. He should have it all warmed up by now. She didn’t want you going hungry.”

  “That was sweet. Tell her thank you for me,” I say.

  “You can tell her yourself when she comes to check up on you tomorrow morning,” he laughs. I whip my head to look at him. “What? I couldn’t tell her no. She wouldn’t hear it. She’s going to get Luke off to school and make sure you’re alright.”

  I groan. “I don’t need a babysitter, Rusty. I’ll probably be asleep when she gets there.”

  “Hey, everyone needs a babysitter once in a while and considering you don’t ever get drunk, this is probably the only time we’ll be required to pinch hit for you. It’s not a big deal,” he says and taps his fingers on the steering wheel to the beat of the song playing again.

  “Fine. But tell her I don’t want her cleaning up or anything. She’s only allowed to make sure I’m still breathing.”

  Rusty lets out a loud chuckle and nods his head. “You got it, Ty.”

  My phone dings. Happy you’re out and doing well. xo. Jess’s response puts a smile on my face.

  “Who’s that from?” Rusty asks. I shove my phone back into my pocket.

  “Luke,” I say.

  “Luke’s got you smiling like that?” he asks. Damn.

  “Drop it, Rusty.”

  “Aww, you got a secret relationship going on?” he laughs. I stay silent, despite his teasing all the way to the house.

  Blue, red and yellow corn wreaths are lying in a row along the craft table, surrounded by pinecones, both natural and painted. We’ve got some wall hangings, a few southwestern-looking throw rugs and blankets. Pillows with embroidered mallards and Canada geese flying in V’s, old wooden boxes turned into kindling holders, glass bowls filled with colored leaves and gourds. But really, the pièce de résistance is one half a barn door turned into a den table. I stayed up all night varnishing and attaching the legs.

  “That thing is sick, Mom. I’m totally going to bring it home with me tonight instead of letting it go to auction. Andrew will probably hate it, but whatever, I love it.”

  “Well, they’ll be expecting to be able to bid after the show. I have the other half of the door in storage. I’ll make you an even better one!”

  “Your hair is standing up on end and you look like a crazy person. Thank God this show isn’t on camera, because you’d have viewers running at your Halloween costume.”

  “Thanks, Darling, for your kind words. I couldn’t sleep, I got so excited about this project and the show. I thought one would look great in Ty and Luke’s TV room, too, don’t you think?”

  “Maybe you’re manic,” Angie says, taking a small Mason Pearson brush from her purse and running it through my hair.

  “I’d tell you if I were. Ange, for the first time in a long time, I’m happy.

  “Because you’ve got a hot boyfriend. So what’s our first “switch out five?” I’m going to write them all down, so you don’t make it up as you go along.”

  “They love when I do that!”

  “No, they love when I get mad at you and we start arguing over table settings or where a picture should go. It takes up the whole podcast, if we get started. Seeing as you’re so happy today, I’m just taking precautions.”

  “Don’t worry about me, honey. You’re over-reacting. What’s going on with you, Angie? Is something the matter?”

  She drags the brush through her own hair and big, fat tears fall down her cheeks. I reach out and grab her hand and hold it in two of mine. I can’t even imagine what’s gotten her so upset.

  “You told Ty, didn’t you?”

  “I did. When we drove back, I told him in the car. He accepted it, Angelina, he took it so well. He’s not your father.”

  “I’m just afraid he’ll dump you, if you get bad. And it hurts already, just thinking about it and what you’d go through—what it would do to your happiness.”

  “He’s a good man, Angie and he accepts me as I am. It’s not your job to worry about me. Even if Ty did decide that he was better off without me. I’m an adult. I can handle it.”

  “Seeing you so happy is breaking my heart. I want you to always feel like this and I’m already scared that it will end.”

  I pull my daughter into a hug and she cries into my shoulder. I’m only now realizing how much John putting me down affected her. She expects Ty to dislike my disease so much that he would lose interest in me entirely—that my mental health trumps every other good part of me. That’s because he taught her that it did. John was so scared of my disease that he made her fear it as well—and even worse, made her question whether any man could ever love me or want to be with me.

  “Angie, Ty has issues of his own. We make a good pair. We were just meant to be together, it’s that simple. I trust him, he trusts me. We’re at a point in our lives where there are things more important than measuring our faults. We both want the whole package. He’s not going to leave me.”

  “Dad said to expect you to be delusional about it. He said the guy would probably swindle you and make you feel like it wasn’t a big deal. That I should keep an eye out, so you didn’t get hurt. He said you’re too sick to be responsible about a relationship.”

  My blood is boiling and my ears ringing and I feel like smashing something. I grip the handle of my coffee mug, then think better of it and run my fingers over some blue corn that’s intertwined in a braid.

  “Did you believe him, Angie? What he said. Is that why you’re crying because you agree with him?”

  “No, Mom. I saw the way Ty looks at you. I know he feels like he’s been waiting his whole life for you. I guess I’m just scared, that’s all. And Dad was seriously asking so many questions—just digging and digging and it made me uneasy.”

  “What do you mean, questions?” I ask. I pop a blue kernel out with my nail and it rolls into my moccasin.

  “Like, he heard some stuff from some people, so he was asking about Ty. He wanted to know if we met him upstate and what his fin
ancial situation is like—if he has a criminal record—stuff like that.”

  I swallow deeply and fight the urge to scream. I want to run from the room crying and go call Ty and complain. But I know divorces get messy, ugly and vindictive. I’m lucky John agreed to do a non-contested, considering he’s so powerful, both financially and otherwise. I take a deep breath and grab Angie’s hand again. I get the feeling she’s been playing it cool, but underneath, she’s hurting over the split and is too proud to admit it.

  “I’ve made a mistake, Angelina and I want to apologize. I use you as a confidante because we are so close and sometimes I forget you’re my daughter. But that’s not fair to you and I know how much you love your father. From now on, your job is to manage your crappy manager here at the podcast, oversee the financials on our accessory line and love Andrew and get ready for your wedding. No more supporting me or turning against your father. Divorce can get tricky and I don’t want you caught in the middle.”

  “So stay the hell out of it, in other words. Don’t tell Dad shit and stay out of your relationship with Ty?”

  “You are too bold, Angelina. You need to invest in a filter.”

  “That would be boring. And divorce aside, this table is the shit and even though you look tired as hell, I can see all the happiness dancing around in your eyes.”

  I shouldn’t be at work today. Edie scolded me when she saw me up and about this morning. I’m supposed to rest for five to seven days but I just can’t. I have things to get done before I leave for the weekend. And there is no way in hell I’m not making the drive, just because I have a few stitches in me. I’m working out TCH’s next build schedule when the door to my office flies open. It startles me and I jump, which in turn makes me groan in pain. A medium build man in a nice looking trench coat steps inside and looks around with his lip curled up. Like this place is the foulest place he’s ever encountered.