Take My Breath Away

by Wendy L. Wilson

The slur and giddiness in her voice is more than enough proof that she is tipsy and it is long overdue. She has basically confined herself to the house the last few weeks, helping Mom with Dad around the clock. It’s a relief to see her relax and unwind.

  “You dance and I’ll go get us another drink.” With a quick kiss, Judd darts off to the make-shift bar.

  Abby and Piper quickly sandwich me between them as a fast, thumping song starts to play. I throw my arms over their shoulders and Bethany staggers over to join the group dance off.

  “Make room for me.”

  We all laugh, singing and dancing until our feet and lungs are on fire.

  A few minutes later, the song ends.

  “Come on. I need another drink,” Abby says as she drags me off.

  Come to think of it, Judd was supposed to bring me a drink. We crowd around the counter with several other people, Abby pushing her way to the keg.

  “Have you seen Judd?”

  “Not since he left to get a drink. Do you want me to make you something?” Abby asks, grabbing a cup and filling it with ice.

  I look around searching for Judd through the sea of faces.

  “No, I think I’ll pass. I think we are going to try and stay sober in case Mom needs us.”

  Abby stops in the middle of making a drink and turns her attention to me.

  “Absolutely not, Mom told me to make sure you were having fun tonight and for none of us to worry. She’s got this, Alyssa. I think we deserve to enjoy ourselves. Dad will be fine.” Her smile slowly breaks through my barrier of responsibility and worry.

  “Ok, but are you sure? I mean, do you think it is a good idea?” I ask with a tiny bit of hesitation.

  “Yes! Party, girl! I intend on getting blitzed tonight and you should, too,” she giggles, handing me a concoction she just threw together. “In fact, start with this.”

  I laugh and look around the kitchen, finally spotting Judd. He is parked at the kitchen table with Chris, Kyle and Hayden, all looking to be deep in conversation and by the way he is leaning forward ready to pounce on Kyle, it may be in my best interest to intervene.

  I sashay my way over and slide into his lap, stopping the conversation as Judd’s expression softens. He pulls me back against him with a territorial look in his eyes. Kyle shifts uneasily in his chair, watching us as Judd resumes their discussion.

  “I really don’t know if I should. We agreed not to drink too much tonight in case we would need to leave suddenly.”

  Kyle nods his head, clearly understanding his reference to “needing to leave early.”

  “Gotcha,” he says back to Judd.

  “What were you two talking about?” I ask looking back and forth between them.

  Judd opens his mouth to talk, but Kyle beats him to it, “Football and then I challenged him to a game of quarters.” Kyle laughs, eyeing Judd.

  Abby sneaks up behind us. “Yes, we should totally play. I’m in. Come on,” she hollers with a huge smile on her face while she hops to the other side of the table and lands on Hayden’s lap.

  Judd looks at me, clearly wondering what my plans are.

  “It’s ok. Abby said Dad is fine and that Mom basically ordered us to let our hair down and have fun . . . all of us. So, I guess we’re in, too.” I pull my cup up to my lips and take a big swallow, letting the alcohol roll down my throat.

  The eight of us, Judd, me, Abby, Piper, Kyle, Hayden, Bethany and Chris, all cram ourselves around the table and listen to Kyle’s instructions on how to play this particular game of quarters.

  “The object of the game is to pick any part of your body and let the quarter roll off into the shot glasses. If the quarter doesn’t roll, it is an automatic drink. If the quarter lands in a shot, you drink. If it doesn’t roll and then falls into a shot, you have to take two shots.” Kyle explains as he uses the quarter to demonstrate each action on his own body.

  “However, if the quarter doesn’t land on the table or in a shot glass, the person in the direction in which the coin lands has to take your shot for you.” He puts the quarter to the left of him and points to me for an example.

  I’m a little confused but when it comes to me, I place the quarter on the back of my hand over the table and it rolls perfectly down beside a shot of whiskey.

  “No drink for you!” Kyle announces and then Judd grabs up the coin.

  He places the quarter on his nose and positions his face over the group of glasses. The quarter falls flat and then bounces off into a shot glass.

  “Two drinks!” Kyle calls out.

  Judd slams them back and then Abby is up.

  She very cleverly thrusts her chest out and lets the quarter roll into a glass off her boob.

  I catch Hayden wiggling his eyebrows up and down in her direction as she seductively drinks her shot, giving him googly eyes. Oh boy! Yeah, she is already half gone!

  The game goes round and round for quite a while and I find I am pretty good at balancing a coin. I have only had to drink a hand full of times while Abby, Judd and Bethany seem to be on a losing streak.

  Little by little, everyone starts to disappear from the table and eventually the apartment seems a lot less chaotic.

  By midnight, the party is winding down and most of us are well on our way to being drunk. I am still semi-sober, but have a light and fuzzy feeling gradually working its way through my system.

  Judd and I sit alone at the table, grabbing up an unopened bottle of vodka.

  “Ok, now for our own private game.” Judd winks at me as he sets two shot glasses down between us.

  I laugh, knowing the last thing we need is more to drink, but I’m curious as to what type of game he wants to play.

  I raise my eyebrow in question and Judd fills me in on the details, “Ok, so we’ll call this game, Truth,” he chuckles, “So, we each have to think up a statement that is true about ourselves, but the catch . . . try to come up with something you may have never told me about yourself . . .” he raises his eyebrows and goes on, “If the statement you throw out is in fact something I don’t know, I drink, but if it is something I do know, you drink. It’s kind of a get-to-know-each-other-even-better type of game. Easy enough?”

  “Kind of like truth or dare?” I ask after I hear the rules.

  I think it is totally a made up game, but aren’t all drinking games that way; made up when you just want a reason to drink with your friends.

  “Yeah, but without the dare,” he counters, “I’ll go first.” He smiles and starts with his first personal fact about himself, “I was so drunk when I lost my virginity that I didn’t remember anything about it the next morning.”

  My mouth falls open and I laugh. “I knew you were drunk when you lost it, but I didn’t know that you didn’t remember it. So, like you didn’t even know who the girl was the next day?”

  He smiles as if he has just won a prize. “Ah ah . . . no questions during this game just random facts. You drink.”

  I tip a small shot of vodka back and then it is my turn. Let’s make this interesting.

  “I’ve fantasized about you on more than one occasion,” I say in my best seductive tone, while leaning closer and thrusting my chest his way.

  His eyes widen and he stumbles around for words, “You mean you . . . you . . .”

  He stops talking, tips back a shot and slams the glass back down to the table with a huge grin on his face that brings out his dimple. Yep, I didn’t think he knew that!

  We go back and forth over and over with more facts about each other.

  “Someday, I’d like to have three kids; two girls and one boy.”

  Definitely a drink for me.

  “I told Mom all about our two weeks together at the lake.”

  He drinks without hesitation.

  “Wait, how much did you tell her and was this before I went home with you the first time?” he asks as he refills both of our shot glasses.

  “Ah ah . . . I thought there were no questions?” I throw back at hi
m with a giggle.

  Judd levels me with a stern glare and I relent, figuring I’ll give him a hint.

  “Well, if you want the truth, maybe you should just take another shot or . . .” I laugh as his expression turns to panic. “ . . . maybe even two shots.”

  Immediately reading my insinuation, he tips back two more shots, probably trying to drown out the embarrassment of knowing that my mom knows the details of our sex life.

  “If it makes you feel any better, the first time she met you she gave me a thumbs-up when she hugged you.”

  Judd’s eyes get as big as saucers and he throws back another shot. I lean across the table, pressing my forehead to my arms and crack up.

  “Ok, so . . .” His chest expands as he blows out a deep breath. “You were the last thing I saw when I wrecked.”

  My breath catches in my throat with his words and my pulse quickens.

  “I had an image of you in my mind. You were sitting in that old fishing boat out on the lake. It was the day we went fishing and the sun was shining down on you while you talked about your Dad.” He stops talking and looks at me with an unreadable expression.

  I don’t bother to drink. I did not know this, but I have no desire to drink. There are far better things that should be against my lips right now. Hopping up out of my seat, I place myself right in his lap and give him an I-Love-You-More-Than-Life-Itself kiss.

  It nearly brings tears to my eyes, but then he steals my turn by adding another fact, “Do you know that the day I got out of the hospital, my first trip was to my mom’s wishing well? I sat down on that bench and relived every single second of our two weeks together, too. So I guess both of our moms know everything.”

  After this fact is revealed I throw my arms around him. “Let’s go to my bedroom. I think it’s time to turn this into a party for two, don’t you?”

  LITTLE BY LITTLE, WE HEAR everyone leaving the party as we snuggle up in my bed. It didn’t take long for both of us to shed our clothes and slide between the sheets. Loads of alcohol and a few intimate moments shared while playing Judd’s truth game is all it took for us both to be completely worked up and eager to feel one another. But once we are both within the comfort of my soft mattress and the warmth of our bodies molded together, sleep starts to hit Judd.

  “I am so tired! I really should not have drank that much. I’m so sorry,” he mumbles as his fingertips make slow careful wisps up and down my back.

  The upper half of my body is draped over his chest so that I can look at him. His eyes are closed and for a moment I think he may be asleep by the way his breathing gets deeper. I shift my body to get comfortable and his grip on me tightens.

  “Stay like this. I want to feel you close to me; just like this.”

  I laugh at how his words slur together.

  “Are you talking in your sleep?” I say, keeping my voice in a hushed tone as my heart gushes with happiness.

  Something about the way his eyes are closed while he talks and the way he looks so peaceful has my heart going a mile a minute.

  “I’m trying to stay awake,” he barely gets out and I can’t help but giggle.

  “You know I want to marry you some day, right?” I instantly still with his words, unable to answer. “The three kids I want someday . . . I want them with you,” he adds with his eyes still closed.

  He has to be talking in his sleep, but I really don’t want to stop him. My heart is on the verge of exploding; overflowing with all the love that I feel for him.

  A small smile touches his lips and he starts whispering more declarations of love through an alcohol induced haze.

  “I want to make love to you every night . . . and I want to hold you until we both have gray hair and wrinkled skin. I want to have my arms around you when I take my last breath on this earth.”

  I can’t take any more. I push my body up so that my chest is pressed flush against his. I cover his lips with mine and he quickly reacts. His hands come alive and engulf me. His mouth follows my lead, but soon he takes control, exploring my mouth with his tongue.

  “I thought you were tired,” I point out breathlessly.

  “I’m not that tired,” he says, flipping me over onto my back.

  The shots and beer we consumed earlier did absolutely nothing to damper our passion, but instead aids in the vigor of the moment.

  “I need to put the scarf on the door so nobody walks in,” I tell Judd in between kisses.

  “I already did,” he says like it’s an everyday occurrence and then continues on his mission to seduce me.

  Our bodies connect and we twist and turn, taste and touch, finding our perfect tempo until we are both breathing hard and exhausted. I soon find out that alcohol seems to be an aphrodisiac for Judd. All through the early morning hours, Judd talks and makes noises in his sleep, calling out my name while his hands and body take over my own. Half the time, his eyes remain closed and he mumbles things that he has never said before; things that have me panting within minutes.

  Around four in the morning and following a rather enthusiastic display of affection, Judd gets up to use the restroom that adjoins my bedroom. As I lay there trying to recover, his tall, built and bare frame drags back into the room.

  “I am so tired,” he says with his eyes barely open, “I think I am still drunk, too.”

  I giggle at his drowsy and drunken confusion as he heads in the wrong direction, turning to the right to crawl into Bethany’s bed instead of mine.

  “Over here,” I call out softly so he can follow the sound of my voice, “You’re going to fall if you don’t open your eyes.”

  Sighing, he stretches his eyebrows open to widen his eyes and turns back towards my bed.

  “You need to switch beds with her. Going back and forth between our apartments, I cannot keep this straight.” He lets out a small laugh and I giggle, knowing what he means.

  His head hangs down in sheer exhaustion and he drags his feet as if he is sleepwalking. Once he reaches the bed, he slides back in beside me, settles onto his back and pulls me snug against his chest. A tiny laugh moves over his lips and then his breathing gets slow and deep.

  “I keep having these wild dreams about you. Then I’ll feel you beside me and I can’t control myself. I’m not complaining about the dreams or waking up at all hours of the night with you, but don’t ever let me drink that much again,” he says, his voice growing quieter and fading off as sleep begins to tug him under.

  I smile, burrowing against his chest for sanctuary.

  Judd remains silent and his deep, steady breaths tell me that he has finally surrendered to sleep. Dazzled by his words and the thought that he even dreams of me, I let myself drift off along with him.

  A loud thump and the sound of the bedroom door sliding open wakes me to light streaming through the window. Holding my hand up over my face until my eyes adjust to the light, I peek through my fingers to see Judd still sleeping soundly.

  Ok, who disobeyed the rule of the scarf? If the scarf is up, you do not come in until it comes down! At least that’s Bethany’s theory behind it.

  I quietly giggle, thinking about how Judd thought to put it up last night without me saying a word. Abby pokes her head through the doorway and motions her hand for me to come join her. Pointing to the sheet, which is my only shield from her being blinded by my naked body; I silently let her know that I need to get dressed first.

  Her eyes are horribly blood shot and her mascara is streaked down her face. I assume it is from a late night, but it still has me in a state of dread. I bolt up and throw on a sweatshirt and sweat pants, skipping my under garments.

  I glance around for my phone, knowing Mom would have messaged me if something was wrong with Dad. Damn it! I must have left it in my purse out in the living room.

  As soon as I get into the living room, my blood pressure hits the roof and my heart is about to drum out of my chest. Abby stands with the front door impatiently flung open, chewing on her thumb nail nervously.
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br />   “Grab your purse, we have to go. Dad is in the hospital,” she says in a panic as soon as we reach the hall outside of my apartment.

  “What! Why . . . what happened?!” My mind shuts down and I can’t even think to know what to do next.

  Flinging my door shut behind me, we race through the hall and out the door of my apartment building as she fills me in.

  “He’s ok, mom said. She sent me a text early this morning, but I must not have heard it go off. I woke up a few minutes ago and heard it ringing and that’s when mom told me that she’s been trying to get ahold of us. I feel awful. We should have never . . .”

  “It’s ok, we know now and we will get over there. What happened?” I ask as we reach my car.

  Abby clears her throat before answering, “They think he has a cold or a virus or something and his immune system is too low to fight it off.”

  My heart aches for how scared Mom must be.

  Abby looks around as if she lost something. “Do you have your keys? We have to get there, like now. I rode with Piper, but I left her a note saying I got a ride with you,” she says all in one breath.

  I twist around like a dog chasing its tail, desperately looking for my purse, which of course I completely forgot when I walked out.

  “I have to get my keys and I will be back down. My car is unlocked. Get in and I will be right back. I’m going to wake Judd and tell him to meet us at the hospital. Is he at Rosemore General?”

  “Yeah . . .” Her eyes well up with tears and her voice starts to tremble. “Alyssa, I should not have left last night. I should have stayed there.”

  “No, don’t blame yourself. You said he was alright, right,” I point out more than ask, worried sick that this is worse than either of us know, but knowing we should not blame ourselves.

  “Yeah, Mom said that she doesn’t think it’s any more than a virus, but that they are admitting him.”

  “Ok, I’ll be back.”

  I wrap my arms around my sister, hoping we can hold each other up. I am scared and she is just as distraught. In a complete frenzy, I scramble back to my apartment, throw my purse over my shoulder and turn to go wake Judd.