Compassion

by Neal, Xavier

  “It's alright,” I sigh resting my hand on her lap.

  “Get your filthy fingers off my daughter,” Maggie demands. “You..You...leech!”

  Charles clears his throat. “Maggie, calm down.”

  “Calm down?” Her voice shrilling squeaks at him. “You want me to calm down that our daughter is dating...not dating, that's not dating, I don't know what to call that-”

  “We are dating,” Jaye meekly argues.

  “You are not dating,” she corrects her. “You're clearly confused and have developed Stockholm Syndrome-”

  “That's not what that is!” My girlfriend snips.

  What is it called when it's in reverse? And why is it that's the only way the outside world seems to be able to think a woman like her would ever fall for me. Wait. Nevermind.

  I give Jaye's thigh a gentle squeeze to remind her I'm still with her. “Maggie-”

  “Don't call me that.”

  “You're being ridiculous,” Jaye sighs.

  “I'm being ridiculous?!”

  “A little,” Charles agrees as he points to the waiter for another glass of wine.

  “You're completely okay with this?” She snaps at her husband. “Have you lost your ever loving mind? You're a goddamn officer of the law!”

  “I am,” he says slowly.

  “And you don't find anything wrong with your daughter doing this? Speaking of how did this happen! What happened after the trashcan? Oh my god, my daughter is involved with someone who was willingly eating out of a trashcan...”

  Suddenly there's a flash of light from a camera and a familiar reaction springs on me. My eyes shut tightly as my fingers dig into Jaye's leg. On instinct, her hand falls on top of mine and her soft voice coos, “Archer...”

  “That was then...this is now,” I mutter to myself slightly rocking in place. “Jaye is now...Jaye is now...” Repeating the phrase again and again with her gentle touch pulls me back from reaching the level of extreme, expediting the process of calmness. A deep breathe releases any loitering pressure, which is when I open my eyes to see Jaye staring at me, eyes glistening with hope. “Jaye is now.”

  “I am now.” After a nod, she reaches out and touches my cheek. “You did good.”

  “What the hell was that?” Her mother snaps as the waiter replaces her wine glass with a filled one.

  Calmly I answer, “I have PTSD.”

  “Do you really have PTSD or are you just another one of those homeless nuts that says that to get drugs they can't get elsewhere? I've seen them in the hospital. Is that what you're doing with my daughter? Sucking up all her money and selling her things for drugs?”

  “Mom!” Jaye snaps again.

  “I've never asked your daughter for anything.”

  My assurance is met with a snub. “That's bullshit.”

  “You know what?” Jaye leans forward. “It's actually not. I had to push Archer to stay with me-”

  “He lives with you?!”

  “Yeah. He does. And I had to push him to stay with me to get out of the cold. I had to push him to take a warm meal. I had to push him to let me help because he refused. He was the one who refused to stay without giving anything back, so I've let him help keep the house clean and renovate the house.”

  “You're the handy man?” She growls.

  “He's a done a fine job,” Charles defends. “In fact, he's probably saved Jaye thousands of dollars that a contractor would've over charged her. Done in less time, that's for sure.”

  I shoot a nod his direction which sends his wife into a frenzy. “Do not defend him! Absolutely not!”

  Our food is placed in front of us, but my desire for anything other than a long night of sleep is non-existent.

  “I'm not paying for him to eat,” she sneers, slamming her glass down.

  “Fine,” Jaye counters. “I'll pay for my boyfriend to eat.”

  “He is not your boyfriend!”

  “Yes he is!”

  “Enough!” Charles voice rises hushing the two women. “That's enough from both of you.” His face turns towards his wife. “Margret, we will pay for this meal. You wanted to take Jaye and her boyfriend to dinner. That is what we're doing. You don't get to change your mind because you don't like how they met. Now eat.”

  “How do you not have a bigger problem with this?” She barks at him. “Our daughter has let a homeless man live with her! What if he's a drug addict! What if he's a murder! What if-”

  “He's a discharged solider who fell on hard times,” Charles inserts for me. When she shuts her mouth again he begins to cut his steak. “He doesn't exhibit any signs of drug abuse. He has no priors. Not to mention...if you'd come off the throne you're sitting on and just ask him about his life rather than judge him, he would tell you.”

  She glares at her husband. “I can't believe you...”

  “I can't believe you right now.” After a sharp look he takes a bite of his steak.

  The meal turns silent as Jaye pokes at her food while her father devours his and her mother has pushed it far away.

  You know, I figured this would go to shit at some point, but I didn't figure that would be before the chance to explain anything about myself came up.

  Eventually, Charles speaks again. To my surprise it's in my direction, “So you're willing to do any kind of work, right Archer?”

  Nodding, I look his direction. “Yes sir.”

  “And the PTSD...are you doing anything to help it? I noticed you had what looked like the start of an episode but it stopped quickly.”

  “Therapy and medication. I understand my trigger, which makes it a little easier to deal with. There are some self-taught techniques I use and we've been trying reconditioning therapy which has helped tremendously.”

  “Good,” Charles states. “I've got some favors I can cash in. Probably can get you a job. Won't be anything glamorous, but it'll be something.”

  “More charity,” Maggie mumbles.

  Anger threatens to surge through my body. “I'm not a charity case, ma'am. And just so you know, I've kept a record of every dollar your daughter has spent on me and the first thing I plan to do when I get a job is pay back every cent.”

  “No you're not,” Jaye mutters to me. “I don't want any of that money.”

  “That was Chris' money,” she sneers.

  “He left it to me,” the reminder to her mother is met with another harsh look. “And I will spend it how I see fit.”

  “On charity,” she repeats.

  “You're not a charity case,” Charles interjects before the conversation can get out of hand. “Frankly, you're just a man who needs a little compassion shown your way. Seems my daughter had the right idea.”

  “Do not say that,” Maggie snaps.

  He ignores his wife. “I'll make a few phone calls. See what I can do.”

  In a genuine tone I state, “I appreciate that, sir.”

  “I know you do, son.” Charles smiles.

  Before any more words can be exchanged, my attention drifts to Jaye who is rubbing her temple. “You okay, babe?”

  “Light headed,” she answers in exchange.

  Let's refrain from all telling her what triggered that.

  “Turn,” I instruct. When she does I firmly press my fingers to her skull and apply a small amount of pressure. “Take a few deep breaths.” As she does I slightly shift where I am applying the pressure before gently asking, “Is that better?”

  “Yeah, actually,” she sighs. I drop my hands and she asks, “How'd do you do that?”

  With a crooked grin, I wink. “Old trick I picked up.”

  There's a mutter out of her mother, which prompts Jaye to say, “I um...I think we'll be heading home.”

  “That is not his home,” Maggie whispers.

  “Do you want me to drive?” I offer.

  “Driving her car. Spending Chris' money. If that's not a money sucking parasite what is?”

  Biting back my annoyance I correct her, “I've never dri
ven her car ma'am without her in it or not at her request. I was merely offering because if she's light headed and it might not be the best idea for her to drive.”

  “I'm a damn doctor! You don't think I know that!”

  Jaye shakes her head. “What is wrong with you?” There's a level of hurt in her tone I don't think I've ever heard before. “Archer has sat here and taken every punch you've thrown at him. He's been polite. He's even been helpful. Can't you just...I don't know...leave him alone for a minute? Can't you look past whatever it is that is making you hate him so much and just see, just see how happy I really am right now?”

  The waiter finishes boxing Jaye's food and begins to box mine just as her mother snips, “You aren't really happy.”

  “You've been pushing Jaye for the past couple of years to move on. And now that she has, you're pissed?” Charles says in such a baffled way the truth stuns me back in my seat.

  Letting the unsaid underlying issue circle around in my mind for a moment, I stare at the woman who has been putting up a wall from the minute we met.

  Don't you get it?

  “Mrs. Jenkins,” I kindly speak to her. When she turns her face to me, my face softens. “I understand why you're actually upset. I respect it. And from the bottom of my heart, I'm sorry I'm not Chris.”

  “Don't you ever say his name,” she growls, slamming her glass down. “Ever.”

  “Mom!” Jay shrieks at the same time her father says her name.

  Can't believe it took me the whole meal to realize that. Give it a minute to sink in and tell me if you can hate a woman who is clearly hurting much more than she's probably ever let anyone realize.

  **

  Jaye flops on the edge of her bed. “Pretty sure the Titanic had a happier ending than that dinner.”

  Her joke gets a small chuckle out of me. “They all died.”

  “Exactly.” She flops down backwards. “I can't believe my mother behaved like that.”

  Covering her body with mine, I lean down to plant a soft kiss on her lips.

  While I intend for the kiss to be brief, Jaye only lets our lips part long enough to beg, “Help me forget?”

  Unable to resist the invitation, needing a little reason to forget myself, I press our mouths back together and slide my hand down the side of her black cocktail dress. As our tongues continue to meet, I drag my fingers across her breast to tease her nipples. Her mouth stumbles to let out a moan, but I re-angle myself to swallow it, anxious for the sound to flow through me. When I pull away I let my lips travel down her neck, hands wandering between her thighs, but never letting them graze the spot she wants most.

  “Archer,” she whines between pants. “Touch me...”

  With a crooked smile I move my face to look at her in the eyes again. “Not tonight, baby. I only wanna feel you come on my cock.”

  The words cause another whimper. “Then can we get naked and get there already?”

  Her impatience makes me chuckle before fulfilling the request. Our lips touch briefly in between zippers falling, buttons popping, and clothes falling to the floor. It doesn't take long before I've got Jaye's body spread on top of mine with my cock nestled deep inside. As if the only remedy for the nightmare we survived together, she begins to rock her hips feverishly, determination to replace any doubt her mother had tried to put in her mind obvious.

  More than willing to let her use me to achieve that goal, I lay back with my arms folded behind my head. “Take whatever you need, babe.”

  She moans, tosses her head back, and cups her beautiful bouncing tits. The sight of watching her in control of her own body, the situation, swells my cock even more. Effortlessly she continues taking and taking until her muscles hint at the explosion building. As anxious to absorb that moment as she is to have it, I buck my hips harder until she comes undone. Watching her whither in pleasure causes me to bite my bottom lip hard in order to stop my cock from betraying me too soon. Jaye's breathing struggles to settle, which is when I lift my body up, wrap my arms around her, and thrust harder. Deeper. She arches into the new line of pleasure, panting rapidly. One of my hands gently tugs her hair, the slight tingle of pain exciting her.

  Her nails dig into my back at the same time she shatters for a second time, “Archer!”

  Unable to block my cock from not coming a third time, I let go with her, a satisfied groan reverberating throughout the room.

  For the record. Orgasms do make everything better.

  Jaye

  My fingers lightly stroke Archer's chest while staring off at the wall opposite of the bed where the turned off T.V. is hung.

  I still can't believe my mom was....I don't even know what to call that. Outrageous? Crazy? Yes. She was just flat out crazy at dinner. She wasn't even my mother. I don't know who that woman was but...she wasn't the one who raised me. No, Archer and I didn't have the most story book start, but the way she was reacting you'd think we met on death row or something.

  “You're still thinking about it,” Archer says on a yawn. “Don't give yourself another headache.”

  A smirk finds its way my lips.

  How does he do that? How does he just know?

  Another question creeps into my mind. “Archer, why did you say you know why my mom was really upset? What did you mean by that?”

  He remains silent.

  I push myself off of him and repeat the question. “What did you mean?”

  His green eyes gloss over with sympathy. “Exactly what I said.”

  Frustrated I push, “Care to elaborate?”

  “Jaye, think about it. While your mother may not like how we met it's not about the how, it's about the fact that we did. That you're moving on past Chris-”

  “No,” I interrupt immediately. “She's the one who has been pushing me to move on.”

  “But has she really?” The question causes a confused expression on my face. “Or has she been trying simply to replace Chris? There's a difference between wanting to move past something and wanting something to hold it's place for you. The men your mother tries to set you up with. To date. They're Chris. Wealthy. Well established. Well groomed. They're Chris with a different name, Jaye. Your mother hasn't been encouraging you to move on past him because she hasn't yet. As much as she wants to let on that it's time for you to move on, it's her who hasn't let go of what was supposed to be her son in law.”

  Floored by the explanation my jaw slips open.

  Is he right? I mean...that would explain some things right?

  “She's hurting.” He shrugs. “So, it's not really me she hates. It's just the idea of me. I'll never be Chris or anything like him, which just reminds her, he really is gone and life does move on past death.” With a heavy sigh he sits up. “Trust me. It's not an easy concept to grasp, especially when you watch people you fucking care about die in front of your eyes, but it is what it is. And we all move on at different times. In different ways.”

  Knowing he's hit the nail on the head again, I nod. A strong feeling that I had been toying with before dinner gnaws at me again. “Archer...”

  “Yeah?”

  “I think you should move in with me.”

  He chuckles lightly. “I uh...already did that.”

  I realize how that didn't come out the way I wanted and roll my eyes. “I mean, I want you to move out of the garage into the house with me. I wanna go to sleep with you every night. I wanna wake up next to you in the morning. I want...I want you to be with me.”

  There's a tug at the corner of his lip before he says, “No.”

  Huh. Well...that's not what I expected. You either? Is that why you're shouting?

  “No?”

  “No.”

  “As in no?”

  He nods slowly.

  Baffled by the rejection I squeak, “Why not?! Because of my mother? Because she will learn to like you! Look at how fast dad changed his mind! Just a few conversations later and he was completely alright with everything. She will be one day. I know it.”
/>
  “Jaye your mother could never like me and it wouldn't stop me from loving you,” he reassures me.

  “Then what the hell is it?”

  He takes a deep breath as if searching for the right way to phrase whatever it is that's causing him to give me the wrong answer.

  Totally the wrong answer.

  “Well?”