Love Always, Kate

by D. Nichole King

  “Sorry,” he said, smirking.

  “Uh, um.” I swallowed and looked around the room. “I’m…in the hospital.”

  Damian nodded. His hand glided over the top of my head as he spoke. “The virus took over your system, and, because of the chemo, your body couldn’t fight it.” He kissed me again. “You’ve been out for eight days.”

  My eyes widened. “Eight days?”

  I remember watching an alien movie once. The characters noted a space-time continuum where eight minutes of their lives just disappeared. I wish I could say the same. Lucky them.

  Damian nodded. “Your mother has been sleeping in the empty bed over there.” He nodded toward her.

  “And you?”

  He cupped my face in his warm hands. “There’s no way I’d leave you.”

  It’s weird knowing I was knocked out while people walked in and out, talked, and even touched me. What’s weirder, was that it seemed like my mother’s life, as well as Damian’s, had been put on hold for those eight days as well. They just waited around for me to wake up.

  I peered over at my mother sleeping peacefully. Her hair, usually pulled back into a ponytail, fanned out over the pillow. During what I could only assume was a restless night, the sheets were bunched at her ankles. She wore a t-shirt and yoga pants. No make-up graced her face, and dark shadows hung under her eyes.

  “Would you like me to wake her up?” Damian asked.

  I shook my head. “No, let her sleep.”

  “I think she’d want to see that you’re awake.”

  “I know. But I don’t have the heart to wake her; she looks so peaceful.”

  Damian nodded. “You should probably go back to sleep, too.”

  My eyebrows rose. “Apparently, I’ve been asleep for eight days.”

  He chuckled. “Okay, but it’s still four in the morning.”

  I patted the space next to me on the bed. “If it’s not too much to ask, can you just hold me?”

  Damian’s dimples deepened. He climbed up on the bed and pulled me against him kissing my temple. “It’s never too much to ask.”

  ~*~

  I didn’t think I’d fall asleep, but when I awoke, my mother beamed at me. Tears streamed down her face as she squeezed me.

  In the daylight, lines I’d never seen before filled the space between her eyebrows and hair line.

  As she clung to me, I noticed Damian’s empty chair. My shoulders fell, disappointed he’d left without saying good-bye.

  “Where’s Damian?”

  Missing him already, I thought about how it felt to fall asleep in his arms last night.

  Why does he seem to like me so much?

  Mom pulled back, wiping tears from her cheeks. “Oh, he went home to shower. I guarantee he’ll be back soon.” She winked at me. “He seems to be on very good terms with the hospital staff. Leslie’s quite impressed with him.”

  “Really?”

  “He’s a good kid. Your father likes him, though he wishes he’d sleep on the chair by the window instead of next to your bed.” She laughed and shook her head.

  “How are you feeling?” Tammy asked, walking up to my bedside.

  “Uh…” Confused?

  Tammy smiled. “That’s okay.” She put the blood pressure cuff over my arm. I grimaced when it met its maximum Python squeeze. “120 over 70. Very good.” She waved a wand over my forehead. “100.2. You did well, Kate.”

  “Thanks.” They knocked me out, so technically, had I done anything?

  “Dr. Lowell will be in soon to check on you,” Tammy said before she left.

  An hour later when Damian returned, my mother ran home to freshen up.

  My heart almost stopped when he breezed into my room, wearing loose-fitting jeans and a blue and white American Eagle polo. It brought out the color of his eyes.

  Damian’s face lit up when he saw me sitting up in bed, sipping on some cafeteria soup. He walked over and pulled out eight red roses from behind his back.

  “One for each day you missed.” He set them on the table next to my bed, then sat down next to me, taking my hand and kissing it.

  “Thank you,” I said, lifting his hand to my heart and pressing it against me. His smile widened.

  “Maybe next time I should bring you some chicken broth made from chicken instead of whatever they pass that off as.”

  I shrugged and slurped at the spoon. “I think it came from a can.”

  Damian made a face. “Canned chicken? That might be worse. I’ll bring us dinner tonight.”

  A knock interrupted us, and Dr. Lowell poked his head in. “How are you feeling, Kate?”

  Damian shifted his eyes to the floor. Dr. Lowell never looked at his son, keeping his focus on me. Tension filled the small room, and Dr. Lowell forced a smile at me.

  They must have been at it again.

  “Um…better, I guess.”

  “Your blood work came back, and it looks like the virus has run its course. I’m still going to suggest you not return to school until January. Your immune system won’t be able to take another infection.”

  I nodded. At this rate, I’d be in tenth grade until I died.

  “I’m keeping you on an antibiotic for another week, just as a precaution. All things considered, you pulled through this with flying colors.”

  “Bullshit,” Damian muttered under his breath.

  Dr. Lowell shot him a quick glare. “I want to keep you for another couple of days for observation, Kate.”

  I nodded again, wanting to melt into the bed. “Thank you.”

  As Dr. Lowell left, Damian rose to his feet, his brows pinched at the closed door. I reached for his arm and tugged. Damian looked down at me, softening a little.

  “You’re not leaving, are you?”

  His eyes flashed back up to the door, then back at me. He sighed, bit his lip, and sat down on the bed.

  “He just pisses me off.”

  “Why this time?”

  “He’s fucking delusional. You almost died!”

  I reached out and slid the back of my hand over the faint indentation the dimple formed in his cheek. “What would you do, then?”

  “Not give a false sense of security.”

  I wished Damian could understand.

  Dr. Lowell didn’t have to say it; I knew I’d barely survived. Technically, cancer wouldn’t be the disease that killed me. More than likely, it would be a simple bout of the flu, or an infection from a cut—something a healthy immune system could easily fight off. What Dr. Lowell meant was, “I’m glad you’re still with us.”

  “It wasn’t false,” I said. “It was hopeful. It’s a good quality in a doctor.”

  “Lying is a good quality in a doctor?”

  I looked down at my sheets and the standard hospital-grade blue blanket.

  Damian moved closer to me, his eyebrows furrowed. He reached out and lifted my chin so that my gaze met his. His eyes searched mine.

  “It’s not like I don’t know. I do. What I don’t always get, is that I can pull through.”

  “You’re going to beat this, Katie,” he whispered. “I know you will.”

  He leaned in, kissing me tenderly.

  Chapter 10

  December 10

  Dear Diary,

  Dr. Lowell came in and released me to go home today. I’m so ready to get out of this place! I’ll miss Damian sleeping next to me every night, though—the last two nights he technically wasn’t supposed to be here, but after I begged Tammy, she relented. I guess dating the doctor’s son has its perks.

  My mom is packing my things, and Dad’s signing the paperwork. Damian’s arms are full of flowers, balloons and stuffed animals—most of which came from him, anyway. He looks adorable. I don’t think he’s stopped smiling since he woke up this morning.

  Since I’m not allowed to go back to school and Damian’s still expelled, I hoped I’d get to spend more time with him. Unfortunately, though, I’m pretty much on house arrest for a week. Not to
mention Damian’s at the hospital all day. Dad wouldn’t let him stay over while I’m alone, anyway, I guess. What am I supposed to do with my time?

  “We’ll figure something out,” Damian whispered.

  “Hey!” I closed my diary and glared at him. I hadn’t seen him reading over my shoulder.

  The mischievous glint in his eye made him look even cuter.

  “So you think I’m adorable, huh?”

  I nudged him on the arm, heat warming my cheeks. He chuckled.

  “No one reads my diary!”

  Damian’s eyebrows rose. “No one?”

  “No one,” I said, unable to help smiling at his dimples.

  He scanned the room, probably for prying eyes. Then, he leaned in and kissed me.

  “You meet their approval, you know.” I nestled my head in his shoulder.

  His smile faded. “They don’t really know me.” He sighed and looked at me. “And neither do you.”

  I dropped my gaze quickly. “Why me, Damian? I’m sick.”

  He sucked his lip between his teeth and started chewing on it. “You don’t expect me to be someone I’m not.”

  Something told me that wasn’t all of it, but it was enough. For now.

  I turned his face toward me. Not caring who saw, I drew him close and covered his lips with mine. When he started to back away, I hummed, “Mmm-hmm,” and pulled him closer, kissing him harder. He finally relaxed and returned the kiss.

  Our kiss was broken by my dad clearing his throat loudly. Damian’s eyes shot open. He immediately sat back, glancing over at my dad. I, on the other hand, felt a little daring. Either Damian and I had switched roles or it was the antibiotic’s fault. Whichever, I didn’t care what my dad thought. I lifted my head, blocking Damian’s view so he was forced to look at me. His eyes widened as I kissed him again.

  Somewhere behind me, I heard my mom chuckle. When I turned my head, my father was doing his best to hide a grin. He cocked an eyebrow at my mom, silent words passing between them. I looked back at Damian, whose ocean blue eyes seemed brighter.

  “All right you two,” Dad said, the corner of his mouth turned up. “Time to go.”

  If I hadn’t almost died, I probably couldn’t have pulled it off. My tiny moment of defiance surprised even me.

  Damian reached from around his armload to help me off the hospital bed. Leslie scooted the wheelchair over.

  “I can walk, you know,” I said.

  “You should take it easy today, Kate,” Damian said as I reluctantly took his hand.

  Leslie grinned at him. “Plus, it’s hospital policy.”

  “Pfft.” I sat down and tried to make myself comfortable. So not possible. “Since I have to ride out of here, I might as well take some of that off your hands,” I told Damian.

  “I got it. Just enjoy the ride.” He winked, and I rolled my eyes.

  I hated being outnumbered.

  When I stepped through the front door of my house, I half-expected a choir of angels to be singing the “Hallelujah Chorus” in the living room. I took in our den with new, thankful eyes. My dad put his arm around my shoulder and kissed my cheek. “Welcome home, princess.” He said the same thing each time I returned home; it never got old.

  My mother and Damian took all my belongings to my room while Dad stacked up some pillows behind me on the sofa. I heard Damian’s hurried footsteps above me as he arranged the gifts he’d carried in around my room. With an open invitation from my mother, he stayed with me for the rest of the day.

  We walked to my room together that evening. When Damian opened the door, it looked as though the flowers had doubled. I gaped at him. He grinned and tugged me close.

  “What is this?” I asked. “It looks like a floral shop threw up in here.”

  Damian shrugged.

  “When did you…Why?”

  Damian didn’t say anything. He took my hand and led me into the room. I closed my eyes and let the scent of the flowers envelop me. In my mind, I imagined standing in a field of roses with the moon shining above me and the breeze sweeping up the long hair I used to have. I pictured Damian walking toward me wearing a tuxedo and holding more roses. He was smiling wildly. I glanced down and like magic, a beautiful gown of gray and white taffeta and sheers covered me and blew behind me in the wind.

  When I opened my eyes, Damian stood behind me, his fingers moving slowly over the back of my neck. His lips followed his touch. My eyelids fell closed again, but this time I wasn’t transported to the field of flowers. I stayed in the moment, concentrating on each touch, each delicate kiss.

  His fingers moved from the back of my neck to my front, his hands gliding over the top of my chest. Air caught in my throat. Damian’s lips moved to nibble on my ear. I gasped, and felt Damian grin against my neck.

  When I opened my eyes, a chain with a silver heart rested around my neck. Inside the heart were three silver arrowed loops; two pointing out, one straining down. I lifted the charm off my chest and stared at it in the palm of my hand.

  "It’s the Celtic symbol for hope," Damian murmured in my ear. "Now you’ll always know where to find it."

  “It’s beautiful,” I said, remembering the tattoos on his chest and arm. I turned to face him. “Damian, thank—”

  He put a finger over my lips, stopping me. Then he kissed me with everything he had.

  ~*~

  Since I couldn’t go anywhere, Damian came over the next day. He walked in on a game of Rook between my mother and me.

  “Do you know how to play?” my mom offered.

  “Uh,” Damian glanced at me and snickered. “No, I don’t.”

  I grimaced. “We can’t have that! Deal him in, Mom!”

  While trying to explain the rules, my dad came home from a Saturday morning at the office. He put the boxes of fresh pizzas on the table and shook Damian’s hand.

  “They sucker you into playing?”

  “Sort of,” Damian answered, staring at his hand.

  Dad leaned over his shoulder and gave him some pointers as Mom and I headed for the kitchen for paper plates and soda. Holding a glass in each hand, I stopped at the entryway to the dining room. My dad and Damian were laughing together. Mom came up beside me and paused. She watched for a few seconds, then nodded at me.

  “Did I tell you that when I was pregnant with you, the ultrasound said you were a boy?”

  I cocked my head to the side. “No, you didn’t.”

  She laughed. “Yes. Your father was so excited; he always wanted a son.”

  Turning my attention back to the dining room table, I noticed my father’s hand resting on Damian’s shoulder.

  “He went all out on your nursery, decking it out in all sorts of sports stuff.” She chuckled. “When you were born and the doctor announced that you were a girl, I’ll never forget the disappointment on your father’s face.”

  “Disappointment? In me?”

  Dad gave Damian a high five in the other room. Damian put down his cards, and I was sure that the conversation had nothing to do with the card game.

  “But then, I placed you in his arms. You stared up at him with your big brown eyes, and he’s never looked away since.”

  A lump swelled in my throat as I watched my dad interact with Damian. I couldn’t help but wonder what if…what if I didn’t pull through.

  My hand instinctively went to the charm around my neck. 'It’s the Celtic symbol for hope. Now you’ll always know where to find it.' I squeezed it. There were no “what if’s.” I would defeat this thing once and for all.

  Holding my head up high, I walked into the dining room and set the two sodas on the table. We laughed, ate, and played Rook until the sun went down; Dad and Damian on a team and me and my mother on the other. Not surprisingly, Mom and I kicked their butts!

  Afterward, we all gathered in the den to watch a movie. Mom and Dad sat on the sofa, and Damian and I cuddled on pillows and blankets on the floor.

  “Since Kate and I won, you guys pick the movie.�
��

  Damian shot my dad a glance. “Bond? James Bond?”

  “Old or new?”

  “New. Shaken or stirred?”

  “Do I look like I give a damn?” Dad said in his perfect James Bond impression.

  They both laughed. I just enjoyed being close to Damian and feeling like being part of a normal family.

  ~*~

  I stayed in bed until noon on Sunday while my parents were at church. My head hurt and the room spun like one of those carnival rides where you stick to the side and the floor drops out. I refused breakfast but accepted Mom’s offer of Ibuprofen.

  When I awoke, Damian had his head resting on my stomach. He was scribbling something in a notebook. I smiled and ran my fingers through his hair, which contained less gel than it used to. He moaned softly and turned his head to look at me. His smile was breathtaking, showing off both dimples.

  “Hey, beautiful.” His voice stirred the butterflies in my stomach. “How are you feeling?”

  It took me a second to answer. From the moment I opened my eyes, the only thing on my mind had been how his hand curled over mine. “A little woozy.”

  Damian frowned. “I kept you up too late last night.”

  I shook my head. “No. I wouldn’t trade yesterday for anything. What are you writing?”

  His smile returned. “Lyrics for a song I’m working on.”

  “Hmm,” I hummed. “Can I hear it?”

  “Someday. When it’s finished.”

  I puffed out my lower lip. “No sneak peak?”

  “Maybe later.”

  He tossed the notebook on the floor and moved his head to my pillow, pulling me into him. I rested on his shoulder and nestled my face into his chest, breathing him in. The scent of his deodorant filled my nostrils.

  And that was it. Just deodorant.

  I inhaled him again, then lifted my eyes up at him, confused.

  He grinned down on me guessing my thoughts. “I quit. It made you sick.”

  In response, I touched his cheek and drew him to my lips. He tasted so good. I didn’t want to stop, but my body had other thoughts. I closed my eyes and lay back down on his chest, drifting back off to sleep.