by Kata Čuić
“Oh!” She claps her hands together, and I’m reminded of the cheerleader impressions she used to give. “I want someone to bend me over the arm of the couch and take me hard from behind!”
The way she uses the word, “someone” bothers me, but I let it go in favor of pecking out the next item on her list.
“I don’t want to be treated like glass ever again.” She furrows her brow. “If this is a list of fantasies, then I want to feel someone’s unbridled passion for me just once before I die. However, whenever the mood strikes, with nothing holding him back.”
Him? What the fuck? Haven’t I been giving her unbridled passion, no matter how much it crushes me to cause her pain?
“Let’s see, what else?” She taps her finger against her chin, but I’m ready to be done with this game.
“Ooh! I’m not very flexible, and he’d have to be super strong like you, but against the wall. Yeah.” Her eyes get glassier than they were before they gave her the Ativan. “I want super-hot, clothes ripped off, sex against the wall.”
Strong like me?
Did the nurse slip me something, too?
I mean, I know I’m as nervous as Evie about this procedure, but I don’t remember asking for anything to calm my anxieties.
How can I be hallucinating her constant word slips?
She counts on her fingers, mumbling to herself. “Couch sex, from behind, wall sex…what’s left? You’ve had way more experience in the hot sex department than I have with all the women you’ve slept with. I’ve only been with two guys. Give me some suggestions.”
“Don’t forget anal,” I remind her, choosing to ignore the more painful topics she’s brought up. “You already said anal.”
“Oh, right. Thank you.” She blows me a kiss and I’m at ease again. “I guess that only leaves one thing.”
“What’s that?” I’m on the edge of my seat, hoping for more of her wishes instead of talk of us with other people.
“The ultimate product of love-making. A baby. I want to be a mother.”
I rise from the chair, folding over her to plant a slow kiss on her mouth, everything except our future forgotten. “Remember what I said. No matter what happens today, nothing between us changes. We have other options. Surrogacy, adoption. We’ll have kids. Someday.”
She smiles this beautiful, dreamy smile at me. Caressing my cheek with her hand, her breath fans over my face with the sweetest scent of Evie.
I take a heartbeat to drink this moment in.
Just the two of us.
On the verge of something different.
Of course, it doesn’t last long. Our shift nurse slides open the curtain with a wide smile. “It’s time. Give your wife a kiss until you can see her again in two hours.”
I follow orders, but Evie pulls me close when I try to back away to let the orderlies roll her into the OR.
“Thank you.”
“You don’t have to thank me, baby. I told you I’d be here. I wouldn’t have missed this for the world.”
“No, not for being here,” she clarifies, her gaze suddenly sure. “For being my best friend. For going through everything we’ve been through together. For this last step. I’m so happy you found your forever, even if it isn’t with me.”
There goes her crazy tongue, again.
“It is with you, Mrs. Falls. You’ll see. The surgery is going to go great. We’ll have everything we ever wanted.” I drop my voice low enough to not be overheard. “And then we’ll get started on your bucket list.”
This smile is different. Almost sad. “That bucket list will never come true. But, you promise me you’ll cross off any items you haven’t achieved yet on your list with her.”
Okay, I can’t ignore this anymore. “Who’s her, baby? Who are you talking about?”
Evie shrugs, but releases her hold on me, relaxing into her gurney. “I don’t know her name. I’m sure she’s wonderful, though. From what I’ve overheard of your phone calls late at night, you really love her and she’s an amazing woman. I’m glad you enjoyed a brief period of healthy sex, but I’m even happier you found someone to share your whole life with.”
No.
Oh, fuck, no.
“Fear,” Evie continues with her soft smile. “She’s going to get impatient waiting for you. I want to release you from the rest of the bet. I don’t want you to miss out on the love of a lifetime. This is the last option I have before a hysterectomy; I’ve fulfilled my end of the deal. I’m happier than I’ve ever been. We’ll always be friends, but it’s time to let me go.”
The nurse laughs off Evie’s words as meaningless gibberish. “Some patients get so dramatic with the anti-anxiety meds. They help with nerves, but we can’t predict what it will make them say. She’ll be fine, Mr. Falls. This isn’t major surgery, and she’s in otherwise good health. No need to let anyone go today.”
Evie fades from view as they usher her down a hall leading to the OR and me to the waiting room.
It appears I have a few more confessions to make.
Number one: I have no intention of letting go.
The sensation of lips swiping across the back of my hand pulls me from restless slumber. Pain, not intense but consistent, gnaws at my stomach.
Fluttering my eyes open, I’m met with the golden hues of twilight bathing my bedroom in a soft tranquility that doesn’t fit my current state.
“Hey, Mrs. Falls.”
Rob’s soft voice pulls my gaze to the other side of the bed, where he’s lying beside me, my hand in his. The fading rays of the sun catch his wedding band, sending a kaleidoscope of color ricocheting off the golden metal.
“I didn’t want to wake you, but it’s time for your next round of medicine. Mom says if we don’t keep up with them, they’ll have to work harder and take longer to dull your pain.”
I blink several times as vague memories of post-op agony, Rob yelling at the nurses to do something about it, and a painful trip back to the condo return to me.
“You carried me to bed.”
The first words I’ve spoken in nearly a day, and they are so stupidly infantile.
Rob chuckles, his dimple making a sweet appearance. “Yes, I did. Any other questions about today’s events? You’ve been kinda out of it.”
“The surgery went well?”
He nods, the movement seeming stilted with his head resting on the pillow beside mine. “It did. The surgeon said he’s confident they removed all the endometrial tissue. Two to three weeks of rest, and you should be feeling better than you were before.”
“Nothing in the media about this?” How weird is my life that fearing the media competes with knowing if the surgery was successful?
“Not a peep,” Rob reassures me with a soft kiss. “Anything else you want to know? Anything about late-night phone calls I’ve been taking, maybe?”
Oh, shit. Did I confess I’ve been eavesdropping on his private conversations while under the influence of heavy medications? “W-what?”
Instead of justified anger over the invasion of his privacy, Rob simply chuckles, then resumes dragging my hand across his lips. “You and I are going to need to work on this whole communication thing as soon as you’re feeling better.”
“Your mom wants to move back to Ohio because she has a hot stud of an orthopedist boyfriend.” I slap my other hand over my mouth, appalled at my willingness to throw Patty under the bus to divert attention away from my wrongdoing.
Rob’s face collapses in a show of disgust. “Maybe not that much communication.”
“Is my baby girl finally awake?” My mother’s voice feels like the softest balm on all my injuries, both physical and mental.
“Mama? What are you doing here? You weren’t supposed to come until next week.” Try as I might to sit up in bed, pain slices at my abdomen, forcing me to remain flat on my back.
“Don’t move.” Rob places a steadying arm across my chest. “Let’s get your next round of pain killers, first, then when you’re ready,
I’ll help you get up. The nurses said you’ll be extremely sore the next few days.”
Extremely sore seems like an understatement. In addition to blinding pain, I have nearly zero control over my core muscles. I feel like a turtle, floundering on my back.
“How did you get here, Mama?”
She appears at the side of the bed, smiling down on me with all the comfort in the world. “Your husband insisted on flying me out here for the big day, and picked me up at the airport while you were asleep.”
My husband.
The man who’s been exchanging clandestine phone calls.
The one who’s ready to tell me what’s really going on.
…has disappeared from his side of the bed, and the entire bedroom.
His admission will have to wait, because my mother is fussing with my pillows and blankets, peppering kisses across my face and telling me how proud she is of me for finally taking this major step toward better health.
And then, Patty joins the party.
Thank God, there’s no more maternal sex talk, but I am helped to the toilet, told to urinate like a toddler undergoing potty training, then force-fed soup before finally being allowed to have the pain medication which feels like a lifeline in a sea of babying and pain.
All I want is an answer direct from Rob’s lips, but he’s smart enough not to interfere with the Moms’ coddling.
Just when I think it can’t get any worse, it does.
This is exactly what happens when mothers are best friends.
“Have you given any thought to where you want the wedding? It would be easier for all the guests to attend at home in Ironville, but Sacramento has perfect weather year-round.”
“It’s too late for a wedding. I think we should have a huge baby shower instead.”
“Patty.” My mom gives her the death glare. “We do not have baby showers. It’s bad luck to celebrate the baby before the birth. My mother would have a heart attack if we cast aside any more Greek traditions, and you know how frail her health is these days.”
Rob’s mom nods, in complete agreement. “You’re right. But, these are modern times, too. Who’s to say we can’t have a big birth party slash reception? If we’re going to ask everyone to fly across the country, why not kill two birds with one stone?”
Oh, they’re killing things all right.
Killing my heart.
Patty’s a nurse. She should know what the odds are of me conceiving, even after surgery. And, how can Mom cast aside Greek tradition of a large wedding, even in the same breath as maintaining it for no baby shower?
They’re so excited now, out of their freaking minds with plans I’m not being asked to vote on.
How will they feel when they find out about the impending divorce? Rob’s mom will get her dreams of a big wedding, reception, and grandchild, but my mother won’t. Will that affect their friendship?
Rob’s large form appears in the doorway, both a hope of salvation and a death knell in the Moms’ joy. “That’s enough.”
They both freeze their frantic movement and chatter at his firm tone.
“She’s had a hard day. No need to pile on more stress.”
“This isn’t stress,” Patty retorts. “This is fun.”
“Okay.” Rob sighs, knowing he can’t argue with his own mother. “Then, let’s save the fun for later. I’ve gotta get some sleep before practice tomorrow.”
I didn’t even realize darkness had fallen over the Sacramento skyline, too preoccupied with girding myself against the hopes of what will never be.
After kisses good night, more fluffing of pillows, and assurances of less pain tomorrow, the Moms depart, leaving Rob and I alone in the room.
He takes his time closing the door, turning off the lights, and crawling into bed beside me.
Meanwhile, I’m screaming inside to pick up our previous conversation where we left off.
“Do you need anything else? Water? Another trip to the bathroom? A different position?”
I need fucking answers is what I need. “No.”
He scoots closer to me on the mattress, carefully placing an arm across my chest, well above my incisions. “Is this comfortable? Are you okay if we sleep like this?”
“No.”
He pulls his arm away like I’m on fire. “Too much pain?”
“I can’t be the other woman anymore, Rob.”
“Oh, that.” He sighs, then resumes his position. “Yeah, I meant to tell you earlier.”
Tell me what?
“Mallory, baby.” He presses a kiss to my temple. “You heard me talking to Mallory.”
“My old roommate, Mallory? Jackson’s sister, Mallory?”
He can’t be in love with her.
“Mmhmm,” he hums an affirmative as he sinks further down into the pillows. “She’s been keeping tabs on her brother, since there wasn’t a better way to know what he’s up to between monthly parole checks.”
“Are you kidding me?” Mallory wanted nothing to do with her brother.
“Nope. Now also seems like a good time to confess I haven’t had more sexual partners than you have. I wasn’t kidding when I told you being with someone other than you nearly killed me. No way was I ever going to do that again. It’s you or no one for me.”
I thumb through mental files, trying to remember exactly what he’d said in the past to make me think he’d been with so many women. Did he lie to me, or did I simply cling to what I wanted to believe? It seems like a combination of both, in retrospect. “Why didn’t you tell me the truth? You had so many opportunities…”
His only answer is a soft snore. He’s already asleep, his head resting on the pillow beside mine, his arm wrapped tightly around my shoulders.
Above the din in my brain and the pain in my stomach, one thought punches through my mental chaos.
I’m going to kill him.
“I’m home, family!”
As upbeat as I attempt to make my tone, the only response is deafening silence, louder than the exhausted quiet from my teammates on our return flight from Toledo.
Maybe my favorite women are bummed the winning streak is over, too.
I try again. “Normally, I wouldn’t be so happy about a loss, but I feel like that was some damn good football we played today.”
I drop my duffel bag at the door, then toe off my shoes while trying not to crush Evie’s yellow roses in my other hand while I wait for our mothers to give me the usual pep talk.
“It’ll be better next week. You can’t win them all. It was a good game, no matter what.”
But, not a word is thrown my direction.
The Moms continue to watch the TV, wine being passed back and forth between them. They’re drinking straight out of the bottle like a couple of teenagers. They don’t even look at me.
Tough crowd tonight. Way more intimidating than a stadium, packed full of fans for the opposing team, screaming for my death.
“How, uh…how was Evie today?”
I expect the words “frustrated, cranky, in pain, at her wit’s end” to be tossed around.
Four days post-op, and she was still in agony. Bleeding like crazy.
When I suggested missing the game to stay home and take care of her, she threatened to cut my dick off.
That was the most she’d said to me since I confessed to having Mallory keep tabs on Jackson, and that I hadn’t been with another woman since college.
She wouldn’t even answer my phone calls from the road.
“Disappointed.” My mom’s answer stabs me. “As am I.”
“Why?” My heart thrashes in my chest, preparing for the worst-case scenario. Did they have to take her back to the hospital after I left? Has the doctor already called the game on this option?
Evie’s mom lifts a chilling gaze to mine. “How dare you drag that poor girl back into her vile brother’s life?”
Oh, shit.
Evie must have told them everything.
When I said we needed to work
on our communication, I didn’t mean she should rat me out to our mothers.
They stare me down until sweat dampens my back, which has definitely met the wall.
I might be feeling like a wayward kid, but I refuse to apologize for doing everything in my power to keep Evie safe. “It was the best option I had. Not even a PI could tail him as closely or know what’s really going on in his head. Mallory’s given me otherwise unattainable intel.”
“All while my daughter thought you were having affairs with other women.”
Damn. She’s not pulling her punches this evening; Evie clearly spared no detail. “I can’t read Evie’s mind! I didn’t even know she overheard my phone calls! She should have come to me with her suspicions!”
“Yes.” Diana nods, but her expression remains severe. “She should have. She’s currently having a time out to think about her choices.”
I blink several times, wondering if I sustained a concussion the team doctors didn’t catch when they cleared me for the flight home.
When neither of The Moms offers anything else, I tear across the living room. “You can’t treat us like this! We’re not children!”
“Then stop acting like it,” my mom snaps. “Go to your room. I want you to consider the ramifications for all the lies you’ve told in the past year.”
If Evie wasn’t already fucking pissed at me before, she surely will be after this treatment while I was gone.
Sure enough, when I peek into the bedroom, she’s sitting on the bed, her arms crossed over her chest and a definite pout on her lips.
Her eyes widen when I step fully into the room, closing the door behind me.
She tries to pull her shirt off, but freezes and winces in pain instead.
That wasn’t an expected offering, but okay.
“Baby, stop. I’ll help you.” Two steps, three, until I’m at her side. I place the flowers on the night stand, then realize she’s trying to rip off my jersey.
She hasn’t been to any of my games yet, so she hasn’t had a chance to wear it.
Or hasn’t she?
A slow smile spreads across my face that I can’t help, realizing she’s been wearing it in secret. “You didn’t want me to see you in this?”
