by Dean, Taylor
She couldn’t lie around feeling sorry for herself any longer, it was time to face life. She was hiding behind her recovery, taking advantage of the fact that everyone expected her to rest. No one seemed to think it strange and she didn’t fight the deep, healing power of sleep, knowing it was one more thing that prevented her from dealing with Josh.
Shortly after dinner, Mary helped her to take a quick sponge bath. She spoke quietly, telling Marisa of their day. She talked almost non-stop, never allowing a silent moment.
“Bethany is a sweetheart and she adores you, Marisa. She can’t wait till you’re better, she misses you. My, but you did a good job teaching her to swim. She’s so darn proud of herself, she’s shown us every little thing you’ve taught her. Jerome loves the ranch and doesn’t understand why I’ve never taken him here before. He says he can’t believe I ever left this place and…”
Marisa listened with half an ear, submitting to Mary’s ministrations, but acting as a non-participant. It was as if there was no life in her, she couldn’t bring herself to feel anything. She felt numb. She actually wished the overwhelming pulsating pain in her head would return. She liked that pain, she wanted to grab hold of it and make it stay. She remembered a friend in high school who was so emotionally upset with her life that she cut herself. They were horrible, self-inflicted, long, deep, gashes on her thighs that she’d done with the jagged edge of a can lid. She’d told her once that the physical pain was much preferable to her emotional pain. For the first time, Marisa suddenly understood exactly what she’d meant by that. The thought made her shudder.
Mary helped her into clean pajamas. Maneuvering with crutches was difficult at best, but she managed. Constance had placed fresh, crisp sheets on her bed. It was nice to feel somewhat refreshed.
Now if she could just refresh her life, everything would be fine.
Later that evening, Mary and Josh insisted she come downstairs for a movie night. “Join us, Marisa. We’re fixin’ to watch a movie.”
Hillbilly, Marisa thought bitingly. Learn how to use proper English. She used to think Josh’s manner of speech was cute. Not anymore.
“You need to get out of this room, Marisa,” Mary scolded.
Josh carried her down the stairs while Mary fretted over her, helping her to settle comfortably on the couch. Thank goodness for Mary’s presence. Otherwise the situation would be intolerable. To make matters worse, Jerome inadvertently chose the movie that Josh and Marisa had watched on the night they’d kissed throughout the feature, never coming up for air.
“Are you sure this is the one y–you’d like to watch?” Josh stumbled.
“It’s not very good,” Marisa blurted. “As a matter of fact, it’s really bad,” she said, unable to keep a bitter tone from her voice. The sudden flash of anger took her by complete surprise. It was then that she knew she was harboring pent-up resentment—maybe even rage.
Marisa knew the mature and gracious thing to do in this situation was to wish Josh well and tell him that she hoped he would find happiness in his life.
Frankly, she wanted him to feel as miserable as she did.
“Oh. I think it looks interesting,” Jerome said, sounding disappointed.
“Actually, I thought it was one of the best movies I’ve ever seen. I think it might even be my favorite movie,” Josh commented while Marisa wondered why he would say such a thing. Josh was a man who had not one single mean bone in his body, but the comment came across as thoughtless to her.
“I hated it,” she told him, knowing her comment was acerbic. Didn’t the stages of grief include anger? She was definitely there.
“I loved it,” he answered softly.
“Why?” she challenged.
“It was unlike anything I’ve ever experienced before.”
Marisa capitulated. They couldn’t have this conversation in front of Mary and Jerome. And it was becoming obvious that they were speaking about something other than the movie.
“That’s okay,” Josh said. “If Marisa didn’t like it, perhaps we should watch something else.” He seemed upset, and Marisa didn’t understand his mood at all. Why would he want to be reminded of what they had shared? It hadn’t exactly turned out well.
Jerome settled on a different movie, a comedy. Laughter soon filled the room, fueling Marisa’s irritation. Josh sat only a foot away from her on the couch and every time he laughed, Marisa felt a knife dig deeper and deeper into her gut. How could he feel happiness when she felt nothing but abject misery? If he laughed one more time, she was going to explode…she was going to…
Marisa swallowed her irritation, knowing she was behaving badly. She didn’t want to give Josh a hard time about his decision. There was nothing to do but accept it. She was a grown woman and she needed to behave like one. Even though, deep inside, she had the urge to rage at him, she didn’t. It just wasn’t her style. But in her mind she imagined herself confronting him angrily. As a matter of fact, she had great fun coming up with vicious little thoughts she’d like to hurl at Joshua.
“It’s no wonder your wife left you, Joshua Kensington! You’re not capable of love!”
That was the best line. She could picture herself screaming it at the top of her lungs and devastating him with the nastiness of it all. Maybe it would make him hurt as much as she was hurting.
Or better yet, how about, “You spend too much time with your cows, that’s why you kiss like one. It’s really rather disgusting.”
Yep, that would cut to the very bone.
Except, he was a really good kisser. Fantastic. She loved his lips on hers, his tongue exploring her softness. She’d be happy spending the rest of her life kissing him, or being kissed by him. Either one would do.
Of course, she’d never kissed anyone else. Maybe her lack of experience was a turn off. Maybe she was really bad at kissing. Maybe they don’t have a spark between them. After all, she’d never done these kinds of things with another man. It wasn’t as if she had anything to compare it to. But he must know. He must know all too well.
“I plan on remedying my lack of experience at the first opportunity, with as many men as are willing. Don’t worry about me, Joshua Kensington.”
It was the perfect comeback, designed to create massive amounts of jealousy. Except, then she’d have to make good on her words. This would put her in quite the quandary since she didn’t want to kiss anyone but him. No one compared. The thought of kissing someone else left her cold.
“This has got to be the ugliest place on earth. No wonder you’re not a happy man, you live in hell.”
He wouldn’t like that, no, not at all. Problem was, she loved his ranch. It was one of the most amazing places she’d ever seen. Living her life here would be a dream come true.
Do you always kiss women you’re not in love with, Joshua? Do you have commitment issues? Is this why you’re the ‘most eligible bachelor around these parts?’ Well, guess what? You always will be. I hope you’re happy when you die alone!
Oh, how she’d love to scream those sour words into his handsome little face. She felt bitter. Ridiculously so. Observing Josh turn white as a sheet, shocked beyond words at her caustic remarks would be priceless. She wanted to watch him tremble from the aftershock of her fury.
There was just one little problem. She was so enamored with him, she could hardly think straight.
She was hopelessly in love with him.
Therefore, she never said any of the spiteful little comments that rummaged around in her mind during the interminable amount of time she spent sitting next to him watching the movie. But every time he laughed, she felt a part of herself die just a little.
Instead of expressing her rage, she buried herself in her covers that night and cried herself to sleep.
It didn’t help.
“Hey, how about joining the family for dinner this evening? Josh asked the next day, entering her room nonchalantly. Why was he acting so cheerful? It was a little like a slap in the face, even if he didn’t mean
it that way. But he was acting as though nothing was wrong, as if he hadn’t just broken her heart and caused her to do something foolish.
Marisa put a halt to that kind of thinking. It wasn’t his fault she’d behaved irrationally. Not at all.
Feeling depressed, she’d slept in till noon today. Then she’d announced that she was feeling unwell, and they’d left her alone to rest for most of the afternoon.
Presently, however, they were all invading her space as if involved in some kind of conspiracy to cheer her up. Mary and Bethany made her happy, but Josh’s presence, she could do without.
“That’s a lovely idea, Marisa. Join us downstairs again. It will be good for you to be up and about,” Mary encouraged. “You haven’t been out of bed all day. Getting up and moving around is good for you.”
“Constance is making spaghetti. Our favorite,” Bethany added. Bethany was cuddled up at Marisa’s side and they were reading her favorite book.
It was hard to feel down and depressed when surrounded by the people she loved the most. Especially when those people spent every second trying their best to keep her spirits up during her recovery. Marisa knew that Mary suspected her downward spiral, even though she tried to hide her grim mood.
“Let Josh carry you down the stairs, sweetheart,” Mary said innocently.
That was the moment when Marisa knew what Mary was up to. A little matchmaking. Although Mary knew something had happened between her and Josh, it was clearly evident that whatever had happened was over. How could she not notice? She and Josh were walking on pins and needles around each other and their conversation was stilted and awkward. Marisa hated every ill at ease, uncomfortable moment.
“I’d be happy to carry you down the stairs, Marisa,” Josh stated quietly, knowing the exact cause of her discomfort.
Marisa put herself in his shoes, wondering how disturbing this must be for him. The girl he’d just jilted was stuck in his home. Not only that, his aunt—the one who’d raised him for a portion of his life—was here observing everything he did and said with her foster daughter who happens to be the very same girl he’d just jilted. He was in a tight spot, to be sure. Mary was watching them both with an eagle’s eye. And she didn’t miss a thing.
Josh brushed her hair out of her eyes before swooping her up into his arms. He ran his lips over her forehead, and kissed her lightly.
He was giving Mary a lot of ammunition.
It only continued. At the dining table, he solicitously propped her leg up on a chair, placing pillows underneath her foot, and a throw blanket around her waist as if she was some sort of invalid who could catch a chill. It was a little unsettling. He cupped her cheek, gently.
“Comfortable?” he asked.
“Yes, thank you.” For just a moment, Marisa thought he was going to kiss her on the lips right in front of everyone. But he didn’t. He ran his hand through her hair ever so gently as if she was precious to him, and then retreated to his seat.
They sat at the table, across from each other as usual, flanked by Mary and Jerome on one side, and Bethany on the other.
“Dad and Marisa like to debate,” Bethany announced. “What will you debate today?” Her smile was infectious. Marisa never realized how much Bethany had enjoyed their banter, even if she didn’t actually understand everything they were saying.
“What do you say, Marisa? Are you up for a good debate?” Josh asked expectantly.
“No, I don’t really feel like it today,” she answered, avoiding eye contact. Their debates had always felt as if they were connecting on an intimate level and she needed to separate herself from him, rip the band-aid off, so to speak.
“Aw, come on, there was a great topic in today’s paper.”
Okay, he had her. “What was it?” Her mouth spoke before she could stop it.
“Which animal makes a better companion, a cat or a dog?”
“Can we debate something more substantial?”
“I don’t really want to debate politics. I think we see eye to eye on most things, Marisa. What fun would there be in that?”
If they saw eye to eye on most things, they wouldn’t be in this weird situation. Marisa decided to avoid that notion. “I say a cat,” she said without elaborating.
“I say a dog. They’re man’s best friend.”
“No clichés,” she threw right back at him. Take that, Joshua Kensington.
“Touché,” he said with a warm smile.
Marisa did not smile back at him. Just like last night, she still felt a little miffed with him. Hell hath no fury and all that.
Speaking of animals, you are a pig, Joshua Kensington! A big, fat, greedy pig that takes whatever it wants with no thought to others and…
“Are you going to expound on that concept?” he coerced.
Oh yes, I am. He was asking for it. “Cats are easy. They stay in the house and sleep all day, cuddled up on a windowsill. When you want to pay attention to them, they’re ready and willing. They purr happily when you pet them, and they’ll curl up in your lap and sleep like little babies at your invitation. If you’re busy, they keep to themselves and are quite independent. They use a litter box, never bothering you when they need to do their business. They’re a little like an indifferent boyfriend, they’re not very demanding or difficult. They don’t require much attention, but when you offer something, they’re there.”
Josh stilled at her words, looking unswervingly into her eyes. He was silent for a full thirty seconds. Then he responded with, “Dogs are about a hundred times friendlier than an independent, finicky cat. A dog will follow you around the house, grateful for a glance, a pat on the head, or a stroke of their fur. All they want is attention, but they’re content just to be in the same room as you. Men in love have been known to act this way. Hence the term, love sick puppy.”
“Cliché again.”
He went on as if she hadn’t spoken. “When you speak they hang on your every word, anxious to please their master. They are utterly selfless, willing to play at a moment’s notice whatever game you happen to feel like playin’ with them; they don’t care, as long as you’re payin’ attention to them. And they will defend you against an enemy, to the death if necessary. They are unshakably loyal and faithful, the perfect constant companion to humans.”
“Only if you enjoy having someone follow you around, constantly begging for your attention, annoying and bothersome,” Marisa remarked sarcastically, feeling as though she had behaved like a dog towards Joshua. How pathetic. “They jump all over you and lick you incessantly, forcing you to endure their doggie kisses. It’s really rather disgusting.”
“A cat can take you or leave you, they don’t really care either way, as long as they get what they want.”
“I know people like that,” she remarked bluntly. Her meaning was not lost on him.
Joshua paled at her words, the double meaning behind their wordplay suddenly hitting him. She was positive he hadn’t caught on till that moment.
“You always know where you stand with a dog. I love that,” he said.
“The cat knows you love it without you ever having to do a thing,” she returned.
“Sometimes you have to say it, or they don’t know it or even realize it,” he rallied.
“Sometimes you say it, and they still reject you,” Marisa said, her tone slightly scathing.
Bethany, sounding discouraged, said from the sidelines, “Whew, I don’t want a cat or a dog. I just want a pony.”
“Some people aren’t meant to own animals. Just butcher them,” Marisa remarked unkindly.
One glance at Mary, and Marisa knew she was upset at Josh and Marisa’s banter. Her eyebrows were deeply furrowed as she looked upon them each in turn. Jerome was eating heartily, oblivious to the underlying messages. He laughed at Marisa’s jab, and said, “She has you there, Joshua.”
“She’s always had me, Jerome,” Josh said quietly.
Marisa looked away, tired of this game. In the end, she didn’t r
eally want to fight with Josh. She was the dog in this situation, loyal and faithful—and ridiculously in love with him no matter what.
Utterly pathetic.
Josh was the cat, taking whatever she offered, yet shrugging carelessly as she walked away.
“So who won?” Bethany asked.
“No one,” Josh told her. “Absolutely no one.”
“I think both cats and dogs have their place in this world. They both love unconditionally, they just love differently,” Mary said aloud to the group as a whole.
Josh and Marisa said nothing.
“People are often the same way. Sometimes they love someone, but have a hard time showing it. Everyone expresses love in their own way,” Mary continued.
Constance served dessert then and the conversation, thankfully, turned to other topics. Marisa pled a headache, and Josh took her upstairs. As he laid her in the bed, he said slowly, “Marisa, there are a few things I’ve been wantin’to talk to you about…”
Mary rushed into the room then. “I’ll help you get ready for bed, Marisa.”
Saved by Mary once again.
Josh was clearly feeling the tension between them and he wanted to make things right. Marisa had to admit, she hated feeling apart from him. From the moment she had first arrived at the ranch, at the very beginning, they’d been joined at the hip. It felt odd to be in the same room with him and not be cuddling or kissing or, at the very least, bantering in their usual fashion. Not like tonight’s rather caustic exchange.
“Have a good night, Marisa,” he said and quietly left.
Mary closed the door. “What was all that about?”
“What?”
“At dinner.”
To Marisa’s horror, she started to cry. The tough girl act was over. Mary hugged her, patting her back reassuringly. “There, there, now. It’ll be better in the morning, it always is, you’ll see.”
“Can we go home to California now? I don’t want to stay here anymore.” Marisa said, feeling like a child.
