“I would love a shower but I don’t have anything to change into,” I shrug.
“Oh, Phoebe, we’ll find something for you and the boys will go gather your things tomorrow.” Emily sits on the edge of the bed and pats my knee. “Let’s get you cleaned up and then we can all finally get some rest.”
Sounds like a grand idea to me. She turns to look at Dean. “Be a gentleman and get the lady some clothes,” she says, pointing in the direction of a large oak dresser.
He stalks over and pulls out a white t-shirt and a pair of cotton boxer shorts. My eyes widen at the thought of wearing his clothes.
“Is there a problem, Bar—Phoebe?” He cocks his head.
“Nope. No problem.” I smile.
Emily takes the clothes out of Dean’s hands and ushers him out of the room. “Goodnight, son. We’ll see you in the morning,” she says, before guiding him out of the room. It’s funny to see her next to Dean because there is such a height difference. She’s shorter than I am—I’m only five-foot-two—and he towers over me.
When he gets in the hallway, he turns to look back in the room and our eyes lock. In that moment, I couldn’t even tell you my own name—the only thing I see is his dark brown eyes as they glaze over. The sound of Emily shutting the door breaks me from my trance.
What the hell was that?
“Do I have any pain pills?” I ask her as I sit up and rest against the headboard.
“Yes, the pharmacy at the hospital filled your prescriptions. Keith picked them up before you were discharged.”
She helps me from the bed so I don’t stand too quickly. I drag my feet along the polished wood floors, trying not to move my body too much. Emily takes hold of my hand and leads me down the hall to the bathroom. When we reach the door I’m half expecting her to stay in there with me, so you can imagine my surprise when she turns to leave. “I’m going to get ready for bed myself and then I’ll be back for you lickety-split.” Her chocolate-brown eyes dance as she laughs at her own saying.
Who says lickety-split anymore?
“Okay, I’ll try to hurry,” I slide off my sandals and wait until she’s gone to completely undressed.
I step into the shower carefully, making sure to hold my brace away from the water—something that is harder than anticipated. The teat from the water soothes my sore muscles, I stand under the spray and watch the remnants of my completely shitty day, wash down the drain.
I search for the shampoo, reaching for it, I notice it’s for men and has a musky smell to it and the body wash matches, I roll my eyes and groan. Squirting some shampoo into my hair, I set the bottle down and lather it in. Just one more day and I will have my things here with me—my clothes, my perfume, my shampoo… everything. I feel like I’m encroaching upon Dean’s life but I shouldn’t let that get to me. After all, it’s his fault I’m here.
I hear a rustling in the bathroom, and I pull the curtain aside to see Emily setting a towel on the toilet seat and opening a new toothbrush for me. She opens up the plastic wrapping and squeezes some toothpaste onto the bristles. I smile, awkwardly when she hands it to me. Why is this woman in the bathroom with me? I get that she wants to help me but this is just… weird.
“Are you almost done in there, Phoebe?” Emily calls out. Her hair is pulled back into a bun on the top of her head with pieces falling around her face, and her pajamas hang off of her thin body.
The water is starting to cool down but I want to wait till she leaves to turn off the water.
“Well, are you going to come out or stay in there all night?” Emily asks.
Does this lady want me to just open the curtain and let her see me naked? She’s got to be insane! I don’t think even my mom has seen me naked for…well, a long time.
“Could you just pass me the towel please?” I turn the water off and stare at the small opening between the curtain and the shower wall, waiting for her to extend her hand and pass me the towel.
“Phoebe, just come out. It’s not like you have something I’ve never seen before.” Her frustrated tone lets me know that she’s not giving in but neither am I. When I don’t budge, she signs and passes the towel to me and I hear the bathroom door close. I understand that she wants to be helpful—after all, I’m only here because of her son—but there is no way on God’s green earth I’m going to let her see me naked.
I sigh with relief and step out of the shower and, wrapped in only in a towel, I open the bathroom door to see Emily leaning against the banister, waiting for me. She holds my elbow and slowly guides me back into the bedroom. The warm water has done wonders for my aching body, but my head is pounding. I glance at the clock and notice that it’s nearly two in the morning. I sit on the bed, and my eyes start to drift close.
“We’ve got to get you dressed before you fall asleep.” My eyes flutter open when I remember I’m not alone. I don’t know if it’s my drugs or that I’m just that tired, but I suddenly can’t keep my eyes open for another moment.
Emily helps me slide the boxers on under the towel and the shirt over top. I slide the towel out from under the shirt and hand it to her before getting into bed.
“I’m going to wash your clothes tomorrow for you. I’m sure you’re exhausted, and more than likely, the boys will have your things from the hotel for you first thing in the morning,” she pauses and sits on the bed next to me as I get under the covers. “Should they clean out your hotel room, dear? They can bring everything here and you can stay in Dean’s room until you find a place.”
I shake my head. “No, it’s fine, really. It’s only nine days and then I’ll be as good as new.” I stifle a yawn and try to keep my eyes open.
“Phoebe, I know this can’t be easy on you. In a new state, looking forward to a new job, and meeting new people. It can all be overwhelming. I feel horrible about the accident but at the same time I’m glad it brought you here. You seem like a sweet girl who’s just trying to find her way. Let us help you. I’m home all day and I can get you whatever you may need. Not to mention, it will be nice having some more estrogen in the house, even if it is just for a week,” she chuckles.
“Nine days,” I mutter under my breath.
“I beg your pardon?” She asks, uncrossing and crossing her legs, giving me a puzzled look.
“I said, nine days. You said ‘even if it is just for a week’ and I said nine days.”
She smiles and waves her hand back and forth, almost as if she’s dismissing my comment. “A week, nine days, there’s no real difference.” She stands from the bed and walks over to the bedside lamp. Pulling the covers up to my chin, she tucks me in, making me feel like a toddler. Is she going to read me a bedtime story too?!
I furrow my brows but she ignores me, switching off the light and saying goodnight as she starts to walk out.
Thoughts of my father come rushing in, flooding my memory with a man I haven’t seen in years—a man that I rarely have time to think about. A man who was taken from me all too soon.
“Oh, Phoebe, are you okay?” Emily asks, hovering over me. The light from the hallway, just outside of the room outlines her silhouette.
For a second I’m confused, but then I feel the dampness on my cheeks. I quickly brush back the tears and smile. I don’t remember the last time I cried for my father. He used to tuck me in every night with my mom by his side and then he would sit on my bed and read me a story. That was our time together and I looked forward to it every night. Unconsciously, I rub the silver locket around my neck with my thumb and finger. Before the move, I didn’t want to chance losing the only physical thing I have left of him so I put it on for the first time in a long time.
“I’m fine.” I nod in an attempt to assure her everything is okay.
People back home aren’t like this. Why is she being so nice to me when she doesn’t even know me? It’s late and it’s been an exhausting day. The only thing I want to do is close my eyes, and wake up to find this whole day was just a nightmare.
I lie on th
e couch in the den and stare up at the ceiling, reflecting on the day. The house is quiet, though I can still here movement upstairs. After we got home, I carried Barbie up to my room. The feeling of her resting against my bare chest before she flipped out was like nothing I’ve ever felt before. Then to see her on my bed—damn, she looked good there.
My dick hardens under the blanket—I need to get laid and soon. I’ve barely been in the presence of a woman in almost a year, and it shows because from the second Barbie crossed my path, I’ve been acting like a dog in heat.
I reach under the blanket, into my shorts and slowly stroke myself. I close my eyes and think about Devon—about how good she felt when she was lying beneath me, and of course how amazing her lips are—full, pouty and just the right shade of pink. Damn, she could work magic with one stroke of her talented tongue.
It doesn’t take long for me to find my release, I lay there panting. I search for something to clean up with but there’s nothing in sight. I toss the blanket back and tread upstairs, pausing when the top step creaks. I pass my room on the way to the bathroom. The light from the sconces on the wall allow me to get a slight glimpse of Barbie curled into a ball on her side, facing the opened door. If only there was more light, I’d be able to see her sleeping. She looked beautiful when she was sleeping in the truck earlier tonight, I recall the few seconds I had her in my arms, cradled against me until she started freaking out. If only I could play Weird Science and create a girl with the looks of Barbie, but the personality of Devon. Perfection.
I feel myself start to harden again so I quickly step into the bathroom. What the fuck is wrong with me?
On my way back downstairs, I take another peek into the room. I immediately think of dead puppies—yeah I know, it’s morbid but that’s what Austin, Jake, and I always think of and we’ve been using this method for years—it’s board certified and proven to work every time.
Morning comes quicker that I had hoped. I feel like I have just shut my eyes when I hear the damn rooster crowing. Normally I’m up and out of the house by now, but not today. Today, I just want to lie around and do nothing, for once in my life. I hear my parents talking quietly by the stairs, and I carefully peer around the open door. I can barely make out what they’re saying, but it has to do with Phoebe. I jump back when I hear footsteps.
My dad pushes open the door and eyes me when he sees me just standing there. “Come on, Dean, we have to go get the girl’s things.”
He turns away before I have a chance to respond. Fuck! I didn’t bring any clothes down with me last night. That means I’m stuck wearing either my pajamas, or my nasty clothes from yesterday. I glance down at my Superman pajama pants and decide that I better change into my nasty clothes.
Walking outside, I see my dad already waiting in the truck, looking as impatient as ever. I slide into the passenger seat and cringe when I smell myself in the confined space. I was so tired when we got back last night, I forgot to shower.
“Dean, you stink! You better shower when we get back.” My dad pulls out of the driveway and heads towards Nashville.
“Yes, sir,” I reply and stare out the window.
We pull into the Kingston Suites and I pull out the key that Phoebe had reluctantly given us before we left. I can understand her hesitation, I wouldn’t want strangers going through my things either, but we are just throwing her stuff in suitcases and leaving. My dad pulls up in front of the main doors, we stop at the front counter and the woman gives us a weird look before pointing us in the right direction. Sliding the key into the lock, I wait for the blinking green light to appear. It does, and I push my way in.
I close my eyes and inhale deeply as the smell of Barbie hits my nose. Damn, she smells so good, like a field of wild flowers.
“What the hell are you doin’?” I open my eyes to see my dad staring at me with a look of disgust.
“Um, nothing. Let’s get this over with. I have a whole day to catch up with and I don’t like being behind.” I push my way pass him and open up the closet door to reveal a plethora of business suits, skirts, sweaters, tops, and shoes—lots and lots of shoes.
I sigh as I realize the amount of work we have ahead of us. I glance around, find two large, empty suitcases and start to pull things out of the closet. Dad heads to the bathroom and cleans it out, putting all of her toiletries in a plastic bag that he finds in the bathroom.
I make quick work of packing up her things, not bothering to fold the clothes neatly. I’m sure she’ll have a fit but I don’t care, I want to get out of here. My dad leaves to load up the truck and check Barbie out of the room. The last spot I have to check is the dresser drawers, which double as a TV stand.
My jaw drops when I catch sight of what’s in the drawer. Lace… tons of lace. Bras, panties, and nighties galore.
I glance around, making sure my dad isn’t coming back before reaching my hand in, tracing the luscious fabric with my fingertips. The only girl I’ve ever been with is Devon and she never wore anything like this. I pull her things out and pack them into the last small suitcase. As I take handfuls of Barbie’s things from the suitcase on the bed, something falls on the floor. I toss the things in the bag and glance down to see a… a… toy.
Fucking hell! What do I do? I don’t want to touch it, but I can’t let my dad see it either!
Thinking fast, I grab a pair of panties out of the bag, fold them up and pick up the small silver toy. I shove it into the suitcase and zip up the bag, just as my dad walks in.
“Got everything?” he asks, and glancing around the open room.
“Yeah, I’m pretty sure we have everything she needs,” I chuckle, but my laugh quickly dies when my dad gives me an inquisitive look. I clear my throat and grab the last bag from the bed and we leave.
Grabbing a bite to eat on the way, I try to explain the accident to my dad but he blows me off. After lunch we head home in silence, and I’m not surprised. My dad and I don’t have a typical father-son relationship. He taught me all that I know about the farm and animals, but that’s where our relationship ends.
We pull up outside and I hop out. My boots click on the gravel beneath me and dust flies up around my feet as I walk around the truck, I pop open the tailgate and begin pulling out the luggage. I have no clue how Barbie got it all here, but I’m pretty impressed. Surely it wasn’t in that little Honda she was driving in yesterday? This shit that barely fits in my dad’s truck.
With our arms loaded, we bring everything inside and put it all in my room. The room which was once masculine now smells of Barbie, and is adorned with ‘pretty’ luggage. I shake my head as I leave the room.
That done, I bounce down the stairs, ready to start my day. I hold onto the banister at the bottom and swing around, bumping into someone.
Fuck!
My parents stand in the doorway with frantic looks on their faces and Barbie is on her ass in front of me, a scowl on her face.
“Dean, what did you do?” My mom rushes to Barbie’s side and helps her stand.
“Damn it Dean, can’t you do anything right?” My dad says as he helps my mom.
“I’m sorry. I’m so damn sorry.” I look in Barbie’s eyes but say it to all three of them.
My mom presses her lips into a hard line but says nothing. She doesn’t need to—I know exactly what she’s thinking. Dean messes up again!
I sigh and walk past my parents. Barbie is now upright, so my mom brushes her off and takes her to sit on the couch. I look over my shoulder to see my parents’ lavish attention on Barbie… again. She glances up and gives me a sly smirk.
Fucking Bitch!
I leave without a word, heading to the stable, I pull open the door. I can’t believe her—coming here and acting like a damsel in distress, playing my parents. I sit down on a bale of hay and try to calm myself. I don’t think I’ve ever been so frustrated with someone. Okay, maybe years ago but right now I knew that if I hadn’t left the house, I probably would have said something I would regret.<
br />
Emily passes me a pain pill, and I wash it down with the tall glass of milk that Keith hands me. I scrunch my nose when I taste the thick liquid—it’s not the almond milk I’m used to. It’s not enough that I was in a car accident yesterday but then today the prick plows into me as he comes downstairs. I know he didn’t do it on purpose, but still. While sitting on the couch, Emily comforts me and it must be her motherly touch because I feel instantly better. I peer over Emily’s shoulder and smirk at Dean. I could tell that it pissed him off but I don’t feel bad about it.
It didn’t hurt when Dean ran into me but he caught me by surprise, I feel kind of bad that they treated Dean the way they did. Emily helps me to my room and begins to unzip a suitcase.
“You don’t have to do that Emily, I’ll take care of it later,” I say sleepily. As soon as I lay on the bed, my eyes start to close on their own accord and I suddenly feel as if I have lost control of my own body. I’m not even all that tired but it must be the drugs kicking in.
“Phoebe, you only can use one hand, let me do this. You need to rest.”
I want to tell her no but I’m struggling to even speak at this point. I lie down on the bed and watch Emily as she hangs some of my things in the closet. I watch her as I drift in and out of sleep, she unzips my small bag and looks inside. She stills and glances at me--an indescribable look on her face before quickly zipping the bag up without a word.
I bolt up, my head spinning from the quick action and unzip the bag. I see what is resting on top of all of my panties and bras and the color drains from my face. I close the bag and set it gently on the floor. “I’ll unpack this bag later,” I say sheepishly.
“It’s okay dear, we all have things like that,” she smiles and moves onto another suitcase.
We all have things like that? I am not talking to her about my toys. Oh Shit. I hope that Keith didn’t pack that bag?!
Serendipity Page 5
