by SM Koz
Needing him even closer, my fingers travel around his back and slip beneath his waistband. His muscles flex beneath my hands as I pull his body against mine. He slides himself up, staying pressed against me the entire time, until his lips are beneath my ear. “I can’t believe how much I love you, Mal. I’ve never felt like this before.”
I rest my hands on his cheeks and turn his face towards mine. “I’ve waited months to hear you say that.”
“I’m sorry.”
I shake my head. I don’t want him to feel bad. I know he did what he needed to do. I raise my mouth to his and try to show him precisely how much I love him.
“Oh, and we need to run to the market to stock up on some things. Mal, do you think you could drive us?”
My exploring lips pause. After taking two deep breaths to try and steady my voice, I say, “Sure thing, Ms. McC—Smith.”
JC and I stare at each other intently. His lips are parted and his breathing is as irregular as mine. His eyes drift downward, making their way over my underwear as his mom continues, “Oh, I totally forgot this, but we need to call Detective Green. He wanted to know that we arrived safely.”
As much as I want to do this, I can’t relax with his mom and Nana right outside. It’s not right. I push against the mattress until I’m in a sitting position. I use my hand to fan my face and neck, hoping my hormones will return to normal levels if I cool myself down.
“Okay, Mama,” JC says, joining me and rubbing my knee.
“And set up new email addresses for family. Mal, do you have a computer we can use?”
“Yes.”
Running his hand over his face, JC says, “We’ll be right out.”
“Well, that was less than satisfying,” I whisper. My face is still warm and my insides are still trembling from what I was anticipating. “I’m beginning to think you’re really not very good at this. Two attempts. Two failures.”
He leans over and traces the lines of my bra with his middle finger. “I’ll just have to prove you wrong.”
“Soon.”
“Yes,” he agrees, slipping his finger under my bra strap and pulling it down.
“I need to stop by an ATM, too,” she says. “Is there one nearby?”
“Yes,” I answer as I playfully knock his hand away then pull the strap back up.
He groans, but we quickly dress and then head out to the kitchen where the two women are waiting. I know my face is flushed from my previous excitement and the current embarrassment. I can’t imagine what they think we were doing in there with the door shut.
JC doesn’t seem affected at all. “What do you want to do first?” he asks, taking a glass out of the cabinet and filling it with water.
We spend the rest of the day getting them settled and then my dad picks up Chinese take-out for dinner. We gather around our dining room table and talk about their plans.
“Are you registered for school?” my dad asks JC.
“Yeah. I start tomorrow.”
“What school?” I ask.
“University High.”
“Oh.” I try not to let my disappointment show too much. It would have been nice for him to go my school, but I can’t blame him. My school is private and expensive and probably not any better than University.
“Will you be able to make up the work you’ve missed?”
“With my transfer credits from my old school, I really only need two classes. I signed up for a literature class where I’ve already read most of the books so I can easily complete the past assignments and an applied computer programming class. Since I already know the language, it shouldn’t be too difficult to do that back work either. Other than that, I’ll be in choir, drama, home ec. Should be a fairly easy senior year.”
I stare at him like I have no idea who he is. “I thought you were from the hood? You read classics and know computer programming?”
“I lived in the hood. But I was accepted into a very nice magnet high school. One of the perks of having a family that stressed education from a young age.”
His mom and Nana beam at his words.
“Shit,” I mumble.
Nana purses her lips at me.
“Sorry.”
“Is there a problem?” he asks.
“I knew you were smart, but you’re even smarter than I thought. You’re going to think I’m an idiot.”
“I don’t think you’re an idiot.”
“Kelsie, you’re doing very well in school. A B+ average is excellent,” my dad says, spooning brown rice onto his plate.
“That’s in all the basic classes, nothing advanced like JC.”
“Are we in a competition?” he asks.
“No. I just … just …”
“Yeah?” he asks, squeezing my knee and looking at me with such kindness that I want to curl up in arms and never leave. “What is it?”
“I don’t want to feel stupid around you.”
“You’re not stupid. Why would you think that?”
I shrug.
“You can’t believe anything Sheila ever told you,” my dad points out. “Erase all those conversations from your mind.”
“Sheila’s a bitch, why would you even let her get to you?” JC asks and receives his own glare from Nana.
She then looks at me and says, “Mal, you are a very bright young woman. Everyone here knows that so it’s time you start believing in yourself, too. On the matter of cussing, I am implementing a cuss jar. One dollar every time anyone cusses. At the end of the month, we’ll donate the money to charity.”
My head snaps to my dad who has a surprised look on his face. He swears as much as I do. “Well, I can’t complain about giving to charity.” He shrugs and adds more sweet and sour pork to his plate.
“Between you and me, we could probably fund the animal shelter each month,” I say with a laugh, totally forgetting about our earlier conversation. “And you,” I add, pointing to JC. “You’re worse than me. We should have some type of graduated system because damn and shit aren’t nearly as bad as fuck and you say that all the time!”
Nana reaches over and slaps JC on the shoulder, causing everyone else to smile and suppress their laughs. I can’t believe he has her so fooled.
“I think it should be 50 cents for most words and a dollar for the really bad ones.”
“Then you owe the jar two dollars,” Nana says.
“I’ll pay after dinner.”
Once we’re finished eating, the dishes are cleared, Nana sets up a cuss jar, and I’ve paid my fine, we all head to the backyard for dessert while Daisy gets some exercise.
My dad lights the fire pit and then brings out a bag of marshmallows.
“Can I toast one for you, Nana?” I ask, putting a marshmallow on a skewer and kneeling next to the flames.
“That would be nice. Thank you.”
JC joins me with his own skewer and over the next few minutes, we roast enough for everyone. Once we’re done, we sit next to each other on the retaining wall while the adults sit in patio chairs across from us.
“Remember when Mia threw up all the marshmallows?” I ask, turning her ring I still wear on my right hand.
“Yeah. That was like the first day or something.”
“Who’s Mia?” my dad asks.
“She’s a girl who had bulimia. Neeky was an alcoholic. They grew pretty close while we were there. I wonder how they’re doing. Have you heard anything?” I ask JC.
“Marta said they’re good. They’re keeping in touch with each other. I haven’t talked to either of them, though.”
“I wish we could call them. I need to redeem my IOU for World of Warcraft lessons.”
“You can talk to them. Just don’t tell them anything about me.”
I nod, but know I won’t do that. I’m not willing to risk it.
The conversation around us turns to the flowers planted along the house. JC’s mom wants to know what they are and, surprisingly, my dad can answer her. I figured the gardener put them in
and he had no clue.
Having zero interest in the topic, I lean my body into JC. He wraps his arms around my waist. “Thanks for the sign language book and scarf and all the letters.”
“I wasn’t sure if you’d like them.”
“I loved them. Marta would bring the letters on Tuesdays. I could never sleep on Monday night because I was so excited.”
I smile at his words. “I guess there’s no reason for sign language now, but it made me feel like I was trying to help.”
“Oh, I don’t know. There could still be a use.”
“Like what?”
“Communicating without all of them being in our business,” he says, jerking his thumb at the adults as my dad stands to go inside and refill drinks.
“Silent swearing,” I say with a laugh.
He makes the sign for “damn” and I laugh again.
“We could talk about other things, too,” I say.
“Such as?”
“Tonight,” I sign.
“What tonight?” he signs back.
“Clothes off.”
“Good start.”
Nana is watching us keenly.
“Kiss,” I sign.
“Where?”
“My bedroom.”
He rolls his eyes. “No. Where kiss body?”
I smile, but don’t know any of the words. Instead, I use the letters to spell out one body part that I think he’d enjoy having kissed. His eyes grow wide at the same time Nana shouts, “Lord have mercy!”
I turn to face her in surprise. “What’s wrong?”
“JC cannot have relations for another three months, doctor’s orders.” She reaches into her bag while I look at the two of them, confused.
“Relations?”
“Sex,” he mouths to me.
“Oh,” I whisper, then it dawns on me that Nana must have understood at least a little of what we were signing. “Oh, no,” I mumble, my face heating up.
“Yes, you two are not the only ones who memorized that book. JC, you owe the jar fifty cents.”
“I didn’t mean any of it,” I say, appalled by what I said now that I know she understood.
“I bet you didn’t.” She holds her mouth in a firm line, trying to look stern, but the corners of her eyes wrinkle and I get the impression she wants to laugh. Sex must not be as big a deal to her as cussing. Who would’ve thought?
“I brought an extra copy of the doctor’s orders for you since I didn’t trust JC to stick to them by himself.”
“What’s going on?” my dad asks, coming back outside.
“We’re going over JC’s medical instructions,” I answer before anyone else can.
I retrieve the papers from Nana and then scan the front page. Sure enough, the first thing on the list is avoiding high blood pressure by reducing stress and salt intake, drinking only in moderation, and minimizing intense physical exertion. For those who aren’t sure what physical exertion includes, they have a list. Number two on the list is sex.
“Damn,” I mutter, continuing to read the instructions. Nana holds out her hand. I reach into my pocket for money, but don’t have any coins. “Shit, I’m all out of change.”
“Well, it’s a dollar now.”
“Crap.”
“A dollar fifty.”
“Crap is not a swear word!”
“We’ll call it a twenty-five-cent word.”
“What am I supposed to say when I’m upset? Darn it all?”
“That’s fine.”
“It sounds like I’m from the 1950s!” I say, laughing. I pull out two dollars and walk over to her to place them in her hand. “Keep the change as my tab. I’m sure I’ll use it by the end of the night.”
Sitting back down, I say, “Dagnabbit, JC. You didn’t mention these instructions earlier today.”
He laughs. “That’s because the doctor is nucking futs if he thinks I’m going to adhere to all that.”
“Nucking futs, huh?”
“Dang straight. Nucking futs,” he says, leaning back and crossing his arms over his chest.
I bust out laughing and my dad and JC’s mom join in. Daisy rushes over to us, putting her paws on my lap and trying to lick my face. I think she wants to be part of the fun. Nana even cracks a smile, making me wonder how long it will be before we wear her down.
After a few moments, I continue reading the instructions. When I get to the section that covers his medications, I point to one that’s familiar. “I’m on that.”
“Yeah?”
I nod and read the others, but I don’t know what they are.
“It’s supposed to help stabilize my mood,” he explains.
“That’s probably what it does for me, too.”
I skim through the rest of the instructions, but everything else is pretty straight forward like if he becomes unconscious, we’re supposed to rush him to the hospital. I don’t need a doctor to tell me that.
“Okay, I’ll keep him compliant,” I tell Nana, folding the papers in half.
“On all counts?”
“Yes.”
“I’m trusting you.”
“I won’t let you down.”
She smiles and nods, making me think she’s pretty fond of me, swearing, sex, and everything else. I can’t believe I’m surrounded by four people who accept me for who I am. They know my flaws, big and small, and can look past them. The only other person who’s ever done that in my life was Jenna.
JC reaches for my hand, which I happily give to him. He laces his fingers through mine and squeezes. I remember all the hours I lay next to him praying that he would do that very thing and can’t believe how far we’ve come since then.
“Are you going to cry again?” he asks, moving his arm to around my shoulders and pulling me closer.
“Maybe.”
Chapter 40: November 20
The next five days go by too quickly. I want to cherish every moment I have with JC since I know too well how easily you can lose someone in a heartbeat, but time speeds by no matter by how much I try to slow it down.
We’ve gotten in a routine with the additional people in our house. The first day, my dad got up early and made French toast, one of his best dishes, for everyone, but after one bite, Nana decided she needed to educate him on the art of cooking. Now the two of them work side-by-side in the morning. He’s actually come a long way in just a couple days.
I drop JC off at school every morning and then pick him up afterwards. Because I have cheerleading, he goes to the library to do homework until I arrive. That works well for him since he has double the assignments trying to make up everything he’s missed.
The cuss jar is getting full. It’s at $55 and growing daily. Most of that is courtesy of me and my dad, although JC did stub his toe yesterday in front of Nana and let out an eight dollar string of expletives. He’s now thinking about getting a job in order to afford freedom of speech. Luckily, my dad is willing to support me as he sees nothing wrong with my language. He just considers this whole thing an ongoing charitable donation. I guess it is a little more fun than writing out a ten-thousand dollar check at the end of the year like he used to do.
It’s Friday evening and I asked JC out on a date. I don’t have anything big planned, but thought it would be nice to spend some time alone. After taking Daisy for an early walk, I wait for him in the living room. He was supposed to be ready five minutes ago, but he’s still not here. I decide to turn on the television and flip through channels while I wait.
Just as I’m getting into something on MTV, there’s a knock on the back door. I look up and JC is standing there in khakis, loafers, and a button-down shirt. He’s beyond hot. As I stand up to let him in, I wonder if there will ever be a time when the sight of him doesn’t take my breath away. I hope not.
When I get to the door, I glance down at my jeans and sweatshirt and decide I need to change and quickly come up with better plans.
Letting him in, I ask, “Why did you knock?” His family has
been coming and going out of our house all week.
“Because it’s a date. I felt weird barging in.”
“That’s ridiculous. I’m going to change,” I say over my shoulder as I rush to my bedroom.
“I thought I was running late.”
I close the door partially, so I have a little privacy but can still talk to him. “I didn’t realize we were dressing up.”
“Oh, we don’t have to.”
“No, this is good,” I say searching through my closet. “Ever since camping this summer, I haven’t really spent much time on my appearance. I should look nice for you.”
“You could be wearing a trash bag and you’d look nice.”
I throw on a pair of black skinny jeans, black knee-high boots, a pink blouse, and a silk scarf. I round out the whole outfit with some dangly silver earrings.
When I open my door wide I ask, “Is this better than a trash bag?”
His eyes rake over my body and then he rushes in, picks me up, and kicks my door closed. “Change of plans, we’re staying here.” He carries me to my bed and tosses me on top of it.
“We can’t,” I say, laughing.
He falls next to me. “Why not?”
“It’s Friday. There’s someplace special I go every Friday.”
“And you want me to go with you?”
I nod.
With an exaggerated sigh, he says, “This will have to wait then.”
“Yes, for another three months.”
“You’re not buying into that whole doctor’s orders thing are you?”
I stand up and drag him with me. “I promised Nana.”
“She won’t know.”
“Not going to happen. I won’t risk putting you into another coma for a couple seconds of …”
He raises his eyebrows.
“Amazing, mind-numbing bliss,” I say, kissing him.
“I see you haven’t given up on me after two failed attempts.” He takes my hand and leads me out to the garage. “I could make it multiple couple seconds of amazing, mind-numbing bliss for you. All night long, if you want.”
“Even more to look forward to.”
