Chapter Nine
Except it wasn’t the end. Not even close.
“Auntie Greenly,” a small, trembling voice called out from the other side of the closed door. “I threw up.”
Roman’s whole body froze. So did mine. For a split second, I found myself wondering if I just didn’t say anything, would he think we were asleep and clean it up himself? We both sighed. Evan was four. And sick, apparently. Stuffing away such selfish thoughts, my head fell against Roman’s shoulder.
“I’ll be right there, buddy.”
There was silence for a moment before his little voice came again, softer and more hesitant. “I think Thor ate some of my throw up.”
My whole face screwed up in revulsion, but Roman started laughing silently. He was laughing so hard, he had to use the door to support himself, effectively trapping me. I was still loathing the idea of having to clean up a sick kid and puke covered dog, but suddenly I was laughing, too. Not nearly as quietly as Roman was managing, either.
“Auntie Greenly?” Evan asked.
Smothering my laughter, I said, “I’m coming, Evan. Just a minute.”
Roman pulled back, still chuckling, and gave me room to slip out from between him and the door. I reached for the doorknob, but he hooked my waist and pulled me against his chest. Half a second later, he was kissing me again, hard, fast, and with a grin playing on his lips.
“Thought I’d get in one more before you end up smelling like vomit.”
Scowling and shoving him back, I turned for the door again. It was the last thing I wanted to do right then, but Evan needed me. Being a good aunt was the one thing I consistently excelled at. Most of the time. Today was certainly an exception. As soon as I pulled the door open, the smell hit me. My stomach clenched and I heard Lydia’s voice in my head again, telling me I should go into nursing because it only required a two-year degree and had flexible hours so I could be home more often once I had kids.
The fact that I was breathing shallowly to try to keep myself from following Evan’s example and throwing up was one of the reasons I did not take her advice when I graduated high school. The other reason was that I despised her bossing me around at that age. I still didn’t like it, but I had certainly learned to appreciate the kindness behind her meddling. I had not changed in my lack of ability to handle things like this.
Looking at Evan, a trail of puke running down his t-shirt, I floundered for what to do about it. I had no idea where the bathroom was or what I should do with the nasty clothes once I had Evan stripped down. “I…uh…”
Roman squeezed past me and reached for Evan’s hand. “How about we get you into the bathroom and get those clothes off you so you can take a nice warm shower?”
Nodding, Evan looked relieved someone had finally taken control of the situation. Roman started leading him down the hall and I followed. I didn’t know what else to do. If he was going to help Evan wash up, I could take care of whatever he puked on, but I had no idea where the washing machine might be or where Roman kept his cleaning supplies.
Feeling incredibly useless, I offered to handle the one thing I actually could do. “I’ll get Thor and take him outside.”
Roman looked over his shoulder at me and smiled. “Thanks, Greenly. I’ll take care of the mess as soon as I get him cleaned off.”
“I can do it,” I said quickly. “Just tell me where the cleaning supplies are.”
He shook his head. “I’ll take care of it.” I opened my mouth to argue again, but he didn’t let me speak. “I’d rather just have one mess to clean up, not two.”
And I was back to being mortified. Red flashed across my skin, every inch of it. Which made Roman laugh. Even little, sick Evan giggled at me. “I can handle it,” I said stubbornly.
Letting go of Evan’s hand, he gestured him into the bathroom after flipping on the light. “Go take your clothes off and put them in the sink. I’ll get the water started in just a minute.” He shooed him away and then turned to face me. “Greenly, it’s okay. Stuff like this doesn’t bother me at all anymore. I’ll take care of it. Getting Thor would actually be really helpful so he doesn’t spread the puke around the carpet.”
“I can get it cleaned up,” I snapped. A voice of reason—one that sounded a lot like Lydia’s—told me not to be a baby about this. I really didn’t want to get anywhere near vomit and it was incredibly sweet of him to take on that responsibility when Evan wasn’t even his own kid. Embarrassment and stubbornness refused to let me accept the pass.
A sharp snap drew both our attention to Evan, who seemed to be stuck inside his t-shirt and had bumped into the door on the vanity. Roman smiled and shook his head, but his expression sobered as he turned back to me. “Let me handle this. Just take Thor outside, please.”
Annoyed that he was bossing me around, too, I wanted to argue, but that voice in my head won out and I turned back to the hallway in a huff. The entire length of the hallway, I argued with myself about what to do. I could just start cleaning things up to show Roman I wasn’t a wimp. Would he really try to stop me? What if I did just add to the mess, though? I could only handle so much mortification in one day. Still, it was just a little puke. That was better than blood, at least. Marginally.
I had just about convinced myself I could clean up the mess without losing my pizza when I turned the corner and smelled it. I wasn’t that close to where the boys had been sleeping, but Thor was waiting for me at the edge of the den, happily panting as he sat there with bits of vomit on his nose. That was when he jumped up on me.
Thor was a puppy, but he was almost the size of a full grown Husky, which were big dogs…which put his face right below mine. Dog breath was never terribly pleasant. It was ten times worse when the little maniac had just licked up his owner’s puke.
I forgot about getting Thor outside. I needed to get outside, and fast. I bolted for the sliding glass door I had come through only a few minutes before. It was still half open thanks to me running off and Roman sprinting to follow me. I made it to the edge of the deck before losing it. Even as I vomited on Roman’s grass, I thought about what he’d said earlier, how he didn’t think I could do anything that would make him not want to hang out with me. I was pretty sure this would probably do it.
Reaching out for the post that supported the deck roof, I tried to steady myself. Between puking and wanting to cry, I found myself sliding down to the deck. I might have just gone ahead and burst into tears right about then if Thor hadn’t bounded over and jumped on top of me. Nearly knocking me into the mess I’d just made, I shouted at him to get off, way too loud and harsh. Roman’s neighbors probably heard me. I was working at shoving him off me when Roman came rushing through the door. He skidded to a stop and took in the scene.
I knew that if he started laughing, I’d start crying. This was pretty much my breaking point for the day. He’d laughed at just about every other disaster today. Why not this one? I couldn’t figure out why he didn’t laugh. Instead, his face fell. “Greenly, I’m sorry.”
Sorry? Was he serious?
He didn’t give me a chance to ask. Roman quickly snapped up Thor, fingers hooked around his collar, and dragged him off the deck to where he clipped him to a long leash. Then he was on his way back to me, taking a wide berth of where I’d thrown up, of course. I didn’t have a chance to react before he was scooping me up. My hands slapped over my mouth. I would die if Roman got even a whiff of my breath right now.
Roman was gentle as he deposited me back into the deck chair I’d been sitting in earlier. “Don’t move from this spot until I get back, okay?”
I didn’t even have the energy to respond. Hanging my head, I refused to watch him walk away. Okay, maybe I looked for just a minute. It was too hard not to enjoy his retreat. Once he slipped back into the house, then I dropped my head again. Thor was whining across the yard. I felt like joining him, but managed to settle for pulling my knees up and hugging them to my chest like a twelve-year
-old girl.
An indeterminate amount of time passed as I sat there feeling sorry for myself. Actually, it was more like fifteen minutes. It just felt like an eternity. Then again, as soon as I heard the door start sliding open, I panicked and my feet slipped off the edge of the chair and jerked me forward like a total spaz. It was a small stroke of luck that Roman was carrying a sleeping bag with a puke stain as he came out and didn’t see me.
I slowly straightened myself, watching as he tossed the sleeping bag onto the grass and went straight for the spigot. A quick twist filled the hose, and a few seconds later, he was washing off the sleeping bag and the spoiled grass. It didn’t take long and he tossed the hose away a few minutes later. I froze when he turned back to me, hands on his hips.
“I told you not to worry about trying to clean things up,” he said.
“I didn’t,” I admitted sheepishly. When he gave me a questioning look, I forced myself to continue. “Thor jumped up on me, panted right in my face, and well…”
Roman shook his head. “Sorry, I didn’t even think about that.”
Covering my face with my hands, I groaned. “Stop apologizing. You’re going to make me crazy. Crazier…. This wasn’t your fault. Not even a little bit. How could it possibly be your responsibility for me having the weakest stomach on the planet and being freaked out by blood and vomit?”
Roman sauntered over to me, and before I could react, pulled my face up to his and kissed me squarely on the mouth. “Eeww!” I shrieked, shoving him back. “What are you doing? I just threw up!”
Laughing in earnest now, Roman held up his hands. “Just proving a point.”
“What point?” I demanded. “That you’re gross?”
“That I don’t get grossed out easily,” he said, still chuckling at me. “I wasn’t trying to insult you when I said I could take care of the puke mess. It wasn’t even about being chivalrous. I mean, it kind of was, but mostly I’m just used to being the one to deal with this sort of thing and I know stuff like this is tough for you.”
It wasn’t just today, I realized. Sinking down in my chair, I pulled my hair in front of my face and closed my eyes. “Lydia told you about when Evan was born, didn’t she?”
Roman was silent. I knew without looking that he was doing the same silent laughing he’d done when Evan interrupted us in his room. My head smacked down onto my knees and I gave up. Roman gave up trying to hide his laughter as well.
“I’m sorry, Greenly,” he said, still laughing. “I’m not…not making fun of you…it’s just…”
“That I’m pathetic?” I mumbled from beneath my hair.
Fingers, chilly from hosing away vomit, ran softly through my hair, pushing my head up. “It’s just that I did pretty much the same thing when Sammy was born.”
Scoffing, I stared at him. “You did not barely get your sister to the hospital on time—because James was out of town for business and Evan came two weeks early—and you didn’t get one of your fingers broken by said sister when she slammed your hand into the bed rail during a particularly bad contraction. You also did not faint and whack your head on the guest chair and then rush out of the room when the doctor finally held up your wet, slimy, bloody nephew so you didn’t throw up. You did not do any of that.”
Roman was shaking with the effort of not laughing right in my face. “Lydia did not tell me all of that, but I did faint when Sammy was born and Jen never let me live it down.”
Simultaneously furious with myself for saying too much and amazed that Roman wasn’t just saying that to make me feel better, I could only stare at him. “But…the puke, the blood earlier…”
“Yeah,” Roman said with a laugh, “none of that stuff bothers me now, but back then, I had no clue. I’d been so busy, I hadn’t made it to any of the birthing classes with Jen and had no clue what to expect. I’d never dealt with kids or blood or snot or dirty diapers. Not only did Sammy’s birth freak me out, it really scared me. I was afraid of not being able to handle all the dad stuff I knew I’d have to deal with. It wasn’t until we brought him home that I just dove in. It still freaked me out at first, but I made myself do all those things that no one wants to do. A lot of it was not fun, but I hated the thought of not being there for Sammy when he needed me.”
It took me a moment to respond to what he’d said. “Not a lot of guys would do that.”
Roman shrugged. “Well, it didn’t work out quite as well as I’d hoped. Jumping to do everything for Sammy, I think I pushed Jen out. I knew the nuclear family thing was never what she really wanted, but I thought having Sammy would change her.” He shook his head. “I know he changed me.”
Forgetting how gross I was in that moment, I reached out for Roman’s hand. “You can’t blame yourself for Jen’s choices. More likely than not, she used your efforts to be close to Sammy as an excuse for her to back off and focus on herself.”
His eyebrows knitted together, and for a moment I was worried I’d offended him by acting as though I knew anything about his ex-wife. He shook it off and sighed. “I never thought about it like that.” He looked down at my hand covering his and turned his palm up so he was holding my hand. “Either way, there was blame on both sides for us divorcing.”
The corner of my mouth turned up. “Now that I don’t believe for even a minute. You, Roman Carpenter, have all the appearances of being practically perfect in every way.”
He laughed, but it was half-hearted. “I believe you stole that line from Mary Poppins.”
“Yes I did, but that doesn’t make it any less true.” My own soft smile wasn’t half-hearted at all. I meant what I’d said.
Shaking his head slowly, Roman pulled back, not enough to break our clasped hands, but enough that I noticed the change. “Greenly, it’s not. I have my hang-ups and bad habits, faults and flaws.”
“And you think I don’t?” I scoffed. “I mean, hell, you’ve experienced most of mine all in one day! If anyone is going to judge you for not being perfect, it certainly isn’t going to be me.”
He made a frustrated sound, and this time he did pull away far enough that my hand was left chilled after losing his warmth. “I want to see more of you, Greenly. I really do. After today though, I’m afraid you have this unrealistic view of me, and when you figure out I’m not Prince Charming you’ll…”
“I’ll what, bail?” I sat up straighter in my chair. I wasn’t sure whether I should be offended by that, or impressed he was trying to be so straight forward. I was leaning toward offended, but I tended to screw up my reactions to things fairly regularly. Instead of reacting immediately, I took a deep breath and thought about what I wanted to say. “Look, Roman, how about instead of trying to judge each other and the possible future of a relationship off one really weird, messed up day, how about we just get to know each other for real?”
He looked up at me, and I could see the indecision in his face. Despite the fact that less than an hour ago he seemed perfectly happy making out with me up against his bedroom door, now he was worried. I understood why, but it still hurt. I tried not to let it show in my expression. The way his shoulders slumped was a pretty clear signal I’d failed.
Pulling my knees up to my chest again, I looked away. Sammy was the most important person in his life. I knew without him having to explain any further that he would do anything to protect his son from being hurt again. In the moment, he was eager and willing to pull me into his bedroom. When he’d thought about it a little longer…. I’d known him for one day and I already felt like I couldn’t breathe in the face of his rejection. He didn’t trust me to stick around, to let him in, let Sammy in, to love them both and not walk away when things were too chaotic or gross. I was good for a laugh, but that was it.
“I’m scared,” Roman said quietly. “You’ve been on my mind since Christmas, and even with all the craziness today, I loved every minute with you. I know I could fall for you, easily, and Sammy already adores you.”
My b
reathing stuttered. My heart clenched. “But?”
“But I’m scared,” he admitted. “Scared of letting Sammy love you. Scared of letting my guard down and getting hurt again. I’m terrified I won’t live up to your expectations and it won’t last.”
Exhaling slowly, I made a concerted effort to corral my galloping thoughts and put them in some kind of order. “I can’t guarantee something between us will last, Roman. I doubt it would be me being disappointed by you. Logic says it will be the other way around, and that scares me too. I’ve closed myself off for a long time. Losing my mom was hard, and there were times I didn’t think I’d be able to pull myself back together after my dad died. Lydia is a big reason I survived. She’s been my crutch most of my life. I’ve never had a lasting relationship with a man, so there’s a good chance I’m going to screw up, a lot. I understand if you want to just…” I bit my lip to keep my chin from quivering. “…end it here.”
Roman’s head shook back and forth slowly. “I don’t. I really don’t, Greenly.”
The fear in his eyes was nearly overcome by desire. It still floored me that sort of emotion was directed at me, but I was desperate to answer it. My own fear held me back. It had been doing that for the past seven years, longer really. Since my mom died. I had no idea how to overcome that on my own. Lydia was usually around to push me off any ledges I found myself facing and force me to move on and be brave. The one time I could have used her…
“Can I…?” Roman hesitated. His fingers twitched, pulling his gaze down to them. He pulled them into a fist before reaching out and taking my hand. “Are you busy next weekend?”
My gaze went from our hands to his lips. That screwed up my ability to process what he’d said even more and I had to look away. “Next weekend? Why?”
“I thought maybe, that it might be nice if, I could take you on a real date. See how things go from there.” He paused, his grip on my hand tightening slightly. “What do you think?”
I had to tell myself to take another breath. “Are you sure?”
There was the tiniest moment of hesitation before he nodded. “I really like you, Greenly. It’s a little terrifying to think about putting myself out there again, but I think I would regret it if I let you walk away without trying.”
I knew I would regret it. There was a good possibility I’d regret not walking away. Broken hearts were no picnic, and even Lydia wouldn’t be able to patch me up after something like that. Even as scared as I was, I knew being with Roman would be worth it, and I found myself nodding slowly.
“Is that a yes?” Roman asked.
“Yes,” I squeaked.
He smiled crookedly. “Are you sure? You don’t sound all that excited.”
I held my free hand up, my fingertips brushing against my chest where I felt my heart pounding. “Excitement, fear, they’re both in there, trust me.”
Pulling me into his arms, Roman held me. I felt his heart beating just as wildly as mine and took comfort in that. This was either the beginning of the most amazing experience, or the beginning of an inevitable crushed heart that would leave me utterly broken. Only time would tell, but I would enjoy moments like this in the meantime.
Eventually, I pulled out of Roman’s arms with a start. “I didn’t even ask how Evan was. Is he okay?”
“He’s fine,” Roman reassured me. “While I was getting him some of Sammy’s pajamas to wear, he confided that he’d eaten four pieces of pizza and his stomach had been hurting ever since.”
I had no idea how he’d managed to eat so many since the boys had barely been at the table for more than thirty seconds before dashing off, but I just shook my head. “I should probably take them home, just in case he’s not done.”
Roman shook his head. “They’re fine. He was already asleep again before I made it back out here. They’ll be fine.”
“But…” My gaze darted back toward the house. I wasn’t thinking about my nephews any longer, but of myself. “Do you have a guest room or something?” I cut off before adding for me to sleep in, because…I wasn’t even sure why, but I couldn’t bring myself to ask.
Even in the dark, I could see a slight blush coloring Roman’s neck and working its way upward. “Actually, no. I turned the spare room into my office a while back and there’s nowhere to sleep in there. I guess I didn’t think about that. I just thought…”
He didn’t finish his sentence and I was left dying to know what was running through his head. Did he think I would have bunked with the boys, sleeping on the couch? Or maybe taking his bed while he slept in the den? I struggled to wrap my thoughts around the idea that he might have been contemplating me sleeping in his bed…with him. In a flash of pure desire, I wanted that so badly.
I don’t know if he saw it in my eyes, or just had the same thoughts running through his head, but Roman swallowed hard. “You could take my bed, and I…” The backs of his fingers ran down the side of my face. His gaze followed them. For a full three seconds, his eyes closed. When he opened them, raw emotion stole my breath. “I don’t want to let go of you.”
There were several seconds where I seriously began to wonder if I’d hit my head harder than I thought. What were the chances that I was still unconscious, dreaming every last bit of this? Then again, what if I was? Dream or reality, my answer was the same. “I don’t want you to let go of me.”
He didn’t wait. Roman gripped my hand more firmly and helped me stand. His pressure was gentle as he led me back into the house and toward his room. I felt my heart jump when he closed the door behind me, but I swallowed back any fear and tried to listen to what Roman was saying. Something about a spare toothbrush and a shirt to sleep in.
Instead of hoping I’d heard him, Roman tugged me to the en suite bathroom and pulled out a new toothbrush. Letting go of me proved difficult and his fingers trailed across mine for an eternity before finally dropping away. I had made zero progress on opening the package when he returned with a large t-shirt—one of his shirts—and handed it over with an explanation that I could use it to sleep in, if I wanted. He closed the door behind him as he stepped out, leaving me alone to fumble with the toothbrush and my racing thoughts.
I was sure he probably wondered what was taking me so long by the time I finally emerged. As soon as he looked at me, my fingers were tugging at the t-shirt, which now felt too short, too thin, too everything. For several seconds, he simply stared at me. When he finally shook himself and stood, I felt myself starting to panic. That blossomed into heat as his fingers slid onto my face and his lips brushed against mine.
Then he was gone, disappeared into the bathroom. Even still, it took me a few minutes before I felt like I could breathe again. The oxygen must have taken its sweet time getting back up to my head, because I was still standing there when I heard Roman turn off the sink water. I could only guess he’d finished brushing his teeth and would be stepping out any minute, and a whole new round of panic lit a fire beneath me. I scurried over to the bed and was about to slip under the sheet when I stopped to consider which side I should sleep on.
It was a question I’d never faced before, and I had no idea what to do. The doorknob twisted. I was out of time. Leaping onto the bed, I yanked the covers up over my legs and sat there like a statue, staring at the bathroom door. I must have looked ridiculous when Roman stepped out. His eyes widened slightly, but he didn’t comment. Instead, he turned off the bathroom light, then the bedroom light, and moved expertly through the darkness to the opposite side of the bed.
I laid back slowly, closing my eyes and pulling the sheet up to my chest. The mattress depressed a moment later and I held my breath. I felt every movement as he got into bed. I couldn’t breathe until I felt him lay down next to me and stop moving. Even then, only fitful little bursts of air made their way into my lungs. Roman didn’t say a word or move an inch. He simply laid there until I calmed down.
Only then did I hear him breathe out slowly. That was how we ended the
night. Two strangers lying next to each other in bed, wanting desperately to touch the other person but too scared to make the attempt. That was how I felt, anyway. Roman seemed outwardly calm as I laid there waiting for sleep to claim me, but I had my suspicions he was struggling just as much as I was. That realization made me smile, and I drifted off to Roman-themed dreams.
The Crazy Girl's Handbook Page 10
