by Falon Gold
Dr. Blane entered the room and caught her going at it with the potato. “I need to check your vitals, Majestic, and then I’ll get out of your way to the potato.”
“Blame him,” I tattled, pointing the fries in my hand at Chance. “I was going to give her the broth.”
Chance rolled his eyes, chuckling quietly.
Dr. Blane shifted his stethoscope from his neck to his ears, to listen to Majestic’s back and chest. “Her stomach is made of cast iron, isn’t it?”
“Yep,” I agreed.
“Well, if she can hold it down, she can have it… besides chocolate. She’s had all she should of that for the next year.”
“Chocolate!” Majestic screeched.
Why did he have to say that word? The poor child was going to be in withdrawals soon, sweating and shaking. Someone was definitely going to call child services on me then.
Dr. Blane stepped back. Chance reached around Majestic to cut into his steak. No one was going to address her demand but me.
“No chocolate, Majestic. You heard the doctor. Don’t make me the bad guy here please.” But I knew I would be deemed as such, I seemed to be the only one willing to stand up to her.
Jesus, she’s two, and adults fall like dominoes under her demands, I silently griped as I scooped up ketchup off my plate with more fries. Majestic swiveled her head in my direction, homing in on me lifting the fries to my mouth.
I hesitated to eat them. “Seriously, Majestic, you want more potatoes?”
“Just one, Mommy.” She popped one chubby finger in the air adorably, as if I couldn’t count. One being the only number she knew besides two.
Chance’s erupting amusement reached new heights, which nearly caused him to blow steak out his nose.
“No, baby,” I cooed to her, feeling like a mean bully. “Fries tomorrow. We gotta watch your calorie intake since you’re not moving around as much you should be.”
“Tomorrow,” she recapped, with a determined look on her face that meant I’d be keeping my word.
“How does she know when tomorrow is, Mahogany?” Chance asked before submerging a forkful of food in his mouth.
“During one of our emergency visits here, I explained the difference between today, tomorrow, and the purpose of the sun. When it disappears, tomorrow is coming and today is going away. When it comes back, tomorrow is here and whatever she wanted is available… usually for her consumption. She doesn’t know what the night is for because she goes to sleep when she wants to and is obsessed with food. I think that’s why she and Tommy get along so well. He supplies the food. And now, you’re the… c-word factory.”
Dr. Blane wrapped his stethoscope around his neck again. “Mahogany’s right about Majestic’s calorie-intake. I still want her in the bed or being held but not walking around yet on the floor. We don’t want her falling, if she becomes dizzy. Our non-slip socks don’t come in her size, but she’s welcomed to put her weight back on with real food like potatoes that have the nourishment she needs, so daddy, keep the… c-word to yourself. Majestic, I’m going to wish you a good day and see you in about twelve hours to give you another bag of daddy’s amazing stem cells along with a little chemo therapy.”
Majestic, spoon in mouth, scrunched up her face at him, as if saying ‘no thank you’. Chance found that hilarious too, but I looked at him in awe, amazed that he could save his daughter when no one else could even while a part of him wanted to be a bastard to me. Shouldn’t the ‘bastard’ part of him have cancelled out the amazing parts of him? I wondered why not and tried dissecting him with just my eyes, hoping to separate the bastard section from the savior’s, or find the origin of each at least. He caught me looking. I dropped my eyes to my plate quickly and ate the fry Majestic had wanted.
“Bye, guys.”
Dr. Blane left. Day slipped into night. Entertaining Majestic wasn’t easy when she was restless after being comatose for a week, wanting to get out the bed and get into things she shouldn’t, with Chance too close and staring me down. Adult conversation with him was at a standstill, and I was pretty sure he didn’t have a damn thing he wanted to talk with me about. I relented and let Majestic walk along the bed, her waist ensnared in my hands. Had to somehow work on wearing out her energy that was returning. Chance observed with dark intent in his gray orbs, which served to only make me jittery like I was overloaded on caffeine. By nine o’clock, Majestic was all chattered out and tired. I needed a break from the tension-laden silence in the room and there was another hour to go before Dr. Blane made his reappearance. Something had to give.
I retook my seat in the chair and watched Majestic doze off on her back. “So, Chance, when are you going to tell your family about Majestic?”
“I already have.” His eyes never lost the sinful quality in them, and only God knew what was on his mind. “I called them today, and I had my secretary look into you some new places to live. Your choice which one. The family is flying in, in the morning. We’ll have to post a guard at the door to collect the candy that’ll be on their persons. My mother will be the first to sneak Majestic the c-word every time she asks for it. As for you, I can’t promise they won’t—”
“Stop right there, Chance. I’m not a part of the family or need any of them to treat me as such. As long as Majestic is treated right by them, I’m good. We’re good.”
A knock at the door followed my ruling. Chance cursed quietly, then got up to greet the newcomers, Tommy and Kat in jeans and t-shirts, which reminded me I needed to go do some washing that I normally did in the middle of the night when Majestic was passed out and wouldn’t miss me.
Kat, with her thick, long hair bound in a holder on top of her head, hugged me tightly first. “We’re here to babysit, so you can catch up on the things you haven’t done… like sleep.”
Sleep would be nice, however, I can sleep when dead I guess. “You mean wash clothes, Kat. I look like I’m trying to attract men when I’m not but nothing I have loose-fitting is clean.”
She gave me the onceover. “You do look good, that’s for sure.”
Tommy pounded fists with Chance. “This is my fiancée Katara Johnson. Kat meet Chance Middleton. How’s my girl doing?”
Kat hugged Chance too, taking him by surprise. He patted her awkwardly on the back, which he had to look down to find under the curtain of her hair. “Good to meet you, Katara, and Majestic is good, Tommy. Dr. Blane is going to give her one more bag of stem cells and chemo. If all goes well, she goes home day after tomorrow. It should go well since there’s virtually no risk of her getting GVHD.”
Kat winced then stepped back. “Call me Kat. All my friends do, and you definitely are my friend since you came to the rescue of your daughter the minute you knew she existed. God, you are intense up close, Chance. But what is GVHD?”
“What do the hell does that mean?” Tommy queried. “Ain’t I intense too? Wait. Was that a compliment? Because if it wasn’t, I don’t want to be intense.”
Chance snorted. “Trust me, Tommy, it wasn’t a compliment. I’ve been accused of that a time or two. It means I’m in demanding-mode and it shows. GVHD is graft-versus-host-disease. It’s where a donor’s stem cells attack the recipient’s, but the proteins in our blood match, so Majestic is out of the woods in that area and should be back to her old self in a few weeks hopefully. I don’t know if I’m ready for that. She’s high maintenance now while ill.”
Tommy scratched behind his ear, looked off, then uttered under his breath, “She gets that from her daddy.”
I agreed with him. The door opened behind Tommy and Kat.
Dr. Blane entered with a IV bag that contained the stem cells and a needle full of the chemo drug. “Hey, guys. I’m early because I need to get off early, but I want to be around if Majestic has a delayed reaction to the stem cells. I don’t expect her to, but I hope for the best and prepare to divert the worse.”
We got out of his way as he set up to transplant the stem cells in a sleeping Majestic. Two hours passed as we observed her fo
r any signs of distress, talking quietly around her. She had no idea that her second chance at life came in plastic and was sluicing into her body as she slept on. I was in awe with Chance all over again. This time, I was caught staring and dissecting him by four sets of eyes instead of one, Dr. Blane in and out the room periodically.
When he pronounced the danger zone had passed, Kat shooed Chance and me out. “Now, go while she’s sleeping. If anything goes wrong, I’m sure the hospital will have called you two way before I can get it together enough to even find my phone in my purse.”
I hesitated to leave but really needed to do laundry. The faster I seemed unattractive to Chance, the faster we both could move on.
“She’s right about not finding her phone,” Tommy cosigned, “because that purse of hers is a black hole. It almost sucked me into it once while I was looking for the restaurant key. Not doing that again. I’ll just break into my own building next time.”
Chance and I both snickered on the way out, clutching my generic bag that could never be compared to Kat’s Gucci purse, but I don’t have the funds like she, a corporate lawyer, does either. The minute we walked into the hallway, the easy atmosphere that developed in Tommy’s and Kat’s company dissipated like smoke. The elevator ride was quiet as a cemetery. In the back parking lot, I veered toward my Dodge Avenger parked two spaces down from Chance’s rental. Space from him and his intensity was a requirement at this point.
“Where are you going, Mahogany?” he asked, stopping midpoint between his car and mine.
“To my car to go home and do laundry.” I stuck the keys in the door.
A horrified expression crossed his face as he pointed at my car. “Oh, my damn. That’s your car! I saw that damn thing at the airport.”
I exhaled and shook my head, asking for patience from any higher-being listening. First, he hated me, then my apartment, now my car. What didn’t he have a problem with?
“Yes, Chance, this is my car.”
“Not anymore it isn’t. It can’t be safe.” He was grimacing as if my car was a broken-down horse and buggy used for every day travel in modern times.
Okay, so it was clear the car was on its last legs with bald tires and rust spots the size of golf balls everywhere, but I wasn’t walking either… for now.
“Judge much, Chance? When I can replace the car, I will.”
He strolled toward me, then grasped my hand to press the BMW keys into it. “Here. It’s been replaced temporarily. I’ll drive the Dodge to your apartment where we’ll park it for forever. Tomorrow, we’ll find you a vehicle that won’t put you down before you put it down.”
“I don’t want a car note,” I protested. “This car just has a few… minor things wrong with...”
LIE, MAHOGANY!
Okay, so when you added up all the repairs needed, things wrong with the car became major. I wasn’t anymore thrilled about being stranded on side of the road than he was, even less with a two-year-old, but I couldn’t do better until I could do better. Chance could help me do better, however, I didn’t think that I could trust him—
LIE, MAHOGANY!
I really wished my conscience would just shut the hell up and let me finish a thought. And yes, I was full of shit for even thinking he might add ‘destroy her credit’ to his masterplan, or gift me something with payments attached. But if I wanted to make my situation seem less despairing than it really was, or make Chance into the same untrustworthy monster he believed I was, I should be able to tell falsehoods, whether to him or myself, in peace. What’s a little white lie here and there going to hurt?
You and, eventually, Majestic! My decisions did seem to have a trickle-down effect.
“Who said anything about a car note?” he asked while jiggling the key to manually unlock the driver’s door that doesn’t like to be bothered, even less on rainy days. “You don’t have financial issues anymore, Mahogany. Get used to it.”
Get used to it?
“Well, you don’t have to be an ass about it. Jeez, people are usually much nicer when they’re giving you shit.”
He swung the door wide, then glared at me over the roof of the car. “I’m an ass, Mahogany. That’s what you made me into. Get used to that as well.”
He had no idea who he was talking to. I could get used to anything thanks to the Jefferson’s.
“This is a case of ‘I broke it and now I have to pay for it’, isn’t it, Chance?”
“Pretty much.”
Multiple orgasms, a nicer place to live, new car, and dealing with his bad attitude was a weird combination of compensation for his broken trust, but okay then. Only one of those things was going to come back to bite me in the ass, and I absolutely expected Chance to literally sink his teeth into my ass cheeks at least once while he’s here. He had done it before, which I enjoyed oddly.
Stop remembering shit that has no bearing on the here and now and move, Mahogany.
Obeying, I turned toward the BMW, got in, then led the way to my home. Probably wasn’t supposed to enjoy driving the luxury car as much as I did, but there it was. When Chance was in a much nicer mood, thanking him for putting himself out for Majestic, and therefore me, would be a priority. He got the short straw in driving the Dodge. Once a month, I had to buy steering wheel fluid, or the steering wheel fought to go back to its original position whenever you tried to turn it. The required bottle hadn’t been bought for the car this month. At least the interior would be clean as he struggled to drive, but the seats weren’t in the best shape. The seat belts stuck and didn’t like to let you out once you were fastened in them. The poor man was going to suffer here more than I had before this was all said and done.
Imagining him running back to Utah screaming had me sniggering at my own thoughts as I got out of the BMW in front of my apartment. Chance was tussling with the seatbelt as I knew he would be, his curses ejecting through the rolled down window. I laughed a little harder, then went to release him that required bending over him. There was no telling what my nosy neighbors were thinking.
“Mash the button, hold, then wiggle the seatbelt out, Chance.”
When it finally slid back into its compartment, Chance threw himself out of the car as if he feared it would snatch him back inside. Or the seat had grown hot. Maybe he’d developed a severe case of claustrophobia. Whatever the case, I reversed out of the way just before he nearly collided with me.
Standing in the middle of the street and straightening his clothes, he stated, “You two are never getting back in that trap again. Neither am I for that matter.”
I shrugged in ‘fine by me’ fashion. The Dodge just a way to get from point A to B. No love would be lost if it was gone. He stood and glared at the car that he had yet to turn off and get the keys out of. Unconvinced that he would, I got them myself, then went in the house, guessing he would leave and come back to pick me up after he’d gone… wherever he was going. Intending to flip on the living area’s light first then take him the BMW keys, I reached out for the switch on the nearby wall. My hand was snagged in midair by another. Instantly, I knew who had walked up on me silently. Like a magnet, I gravitated around to him with moonlight pouring in from behind him, suspecting he’d come for his keys.
“Chance, the BMW keys are in my other hand.”
“Don’t want keys or talking.” He stepped inside, compelling me deeper into the darkness.
Here we go with the ‘dating’ again. I had no idea of how many times I was about to come and most certainly wanted to find out.
The door slammed shut, leaving us in pitch blackness. Phantom hands glided under my arms. My back was to the wall bearing the light switch before I knew what had happened. His mouth was on my jaw, traveling towards my mouth. He wasn’t getting there fast enough, and I was heating up like an oven. Turning my head slightly brought my lips into contact with his. His hands were at my breast, kneading my nipples into hard points. The rise in heat made me seek out the deeper crevices of his mouth, to press harder against into hi
s lips until I couldn’t tell where his began and mine ended. To be a part of him again.
For a little while, Mahogany. Who cared about the correct thoughts I should be having? Fingers were dipping into the neckline of my shirt. The shredding of material bombarded the quiet in the apartment. My breasts spilled out of the ragged ends, which I should be mad about except it felt like he had done me a favor—he could take me to heaven faster. I could almost see the hell I’d endure when he was gone though, and I didn’t like destination. Somehow, some way, I had to get us off this road we were on. Nothing lay ahead but destruction, mostly for me. If Chance didn’t care about that, I had taken more than his heart from him when I left him. His ability to be kind and understand was missing, and I should give both back to him, even if they were in pieces.
It took more strength than I had to pull away. “Chance, I am sorry for hurting you by not telling you I was pregnant. I never had any intentions to cause you pain.”
He leaned in until I felt his warm breath fanning my face. “You know what they say about intentions. The road to hell and all that, but I don’t want to hear you’re sorry, Mahogany. Want to hear you scream my name over and over again.”
My womanhood pulsated, basic instincts loving his unusual roughness and jagged edges, and the bastard side of him too, when he wasn’t aiming it at my heart but at the secret tunnel into my body. Desperate to feel him there, I grabbed for the button on my jeans. The zipper sliding down must have been a cue for him because he dropped to his knees, finished removing my pants and shoes himself before hiking my leg over my shoulder.
“No more fucking jeans, Mahogany. Takes too damn long to get off.”
Accommodation seemed to be the key to this ‘dating’ thing.
“Well, if you’re going to be that pissy about it, then no more fucking jeans, Chance, but I don’t have any fucking skirts clean either.”
“Good.”
No, not good. I had no bottoms and couldn’t go out in public that way. Then his mouth assaulted the very part of me that wanted him more than my heart did.
