Thirty Days: Part Two

by Belle Brooks

  “No. Not yet. They want to cut it out. Abigail, I’m going to go home. I need to go home to have this done.”

  “I think if that’s what you want to do, then you should do it. I’ll come back with you.”

  Her head lifts quickly. Finally, I see her face that is tear-stained and eyes that still shine from excess moisture.

  “Mum, hey, it will be okay.”

  “It will be. I’m just tired, Abigail, you know?” Wet hair clings to her cheek.

  “I know, Mum. I’m sorry I’ve been such a big problem lately.”

  “No, petal, it’s not your fault.” She shakes her head. “I’ve been working far too much and yes, I’ve been worrying about you, but I just need to get this thing out of me before it kills me.”

  “Mum, you don’t know that for sure. It could be benign.” Tears begin to well in my eyes. My throat burns from my need to rein them in. I’ve never seen my mother worry like this. I know it’s serious from her reaction alone.

  “Abigail, I’m a registered nurse. I have a clue about these things.”

  “Well, yes, but you’re not a specialist in this field. You can’t get ahead of yourself.” Someone has to keep her calm.

  “You can’t come home with me.” She looks deep into my eyes.

  “Mum, I’m coming home,” I whisper.

  “No, I want you to stay here, spend some time with Mar-Mar. You have to sort all this out with Marcus.” She stops mid-sentence before changing her attention to Marcus for the first time. “I’m sorry.” Her lip quivers. “After Abigail had time to get her life back on track, I should have told you to come back, Marcus, to make her remember. I’m not sure we’ve made the right decision after all. You need to tell her everything now, even the one thing we swore would never be spoken of again. She deserves all of the truth.”

  I stare at Marcus, unsure of how he will react. I’m not surprised when his demeanour remains posed and controlled.

  “Pamela, I don’t think this is anything we need to be worrying about right now. You need to focus on making sure you’re okay.”

  He’s right, she does.

  “When are you going back, Mum?” I quickly change the subject to avoid any further discussions to take place here and now.

  “In the morning. Evan should arrive in a couple of hours. He left as soon as I called. We are going to head out first thing.”

  “Mum. I’m glad you’re seeing Evan.” I half smile.

  “I know you are.” Mum wipes harshly against her cheeks, trying to remove the remnants of her sadness.

  “Okay. Pamela, go wash your face and freshen up.” Mar-Mar takes the lead and begins the clean-up of this situation. “Marcus, you can help me set the table. Abigail, you can go and get the plates and cups out so I can dish up. It’s dinner time and I’m hungry.” Mar-Mar has never been one to allow someone to dwell on a situation for too long.

  Each and every one of us scurries to complete our tasks. Nobody messes with Mar-Mar. Nobody.

  Getting the plates from the cupboard, I make an off the cuff remark about how I’ve suddenly lost my appetite. It seems Mar-Mar was in earshot, because suddenly my head is throbbing.

  “Mar-Mar, why?”

  “You are never too grown up for me to stop clipping you behind the ear, young lady.” God, she may be getting old, but her hearing is on par. “I’ll hear none of that. You will eat, you will enjoy it, and you will be thankful.”

  “What’s for dinner anyways?”

  “What you’re served,” she responds before adding, “what in the world are you wearing?”

  “Something from a long time ago.” I smirk.

  “I can tell. You should dress up for Marcus. He’s a handsome man. Look at him.”

  When I do, he has a grin plastered across his face from ear to ear.

  “I think he’s happy to see me dressed in this.”

  “God knows why,” she scoffs before telling Marcus to keep his eyes on the job and not on me.

  God, I love Mar-Mar.

  Mum returns, more refreshed. She hugs me and tells me that I’m not to worry and that once it’s removed everything will be okay. I believe her because I have no choice not to.

  “I was going to make a roast dinner. But with today being what it was, I’ve prepared a chicken risotto.” Mar-Mar uses a long handled spoon to serve the risotto onto china plates.

  “Yum,” I say, licking my lips.

  I’m hungrier than I realised when I find myself licking the plate clean.

  “Abigail, manners.” Mar-Mar’s appalled.

  “It’s so delicious.”

  “Well, if you want more, get more. You are not a dog and weren’t raised as one, so get another helping.”

  “I’m good.”

  “It was lovely,” Marcus compliments.

  “I’m glad you enjoyed it.” Mar-Mar looks at Marcus through rose-coloured lenses…with pride and respect.

  “Just as delicious as I remember it.”

  “Good. Well, if you’re done, you two can get in that kitchen and clean up. Marcus, can you get me a glass of port first, please?”

  “Sure.” He takes her plate and stands.

  “After today, I need a drink,” Mar-Mar mumbles.

  “Mar-Mar Ilish!” My eyes widen and I find myself smirking again.

  “Abigail, don’t pretend that there’s anything wrong with this.”

  “I love you,” I say, kissing her cheek with my plate in hand.

  “Marcus, get Pamela one, too.”

  “Okay,” he calls out from the kitchen.

  “No, I’m good.” Mum shakes her head.

  “You’ll have a port with me and then you will stop this nonsense. You’ll be fine. If it’s cancer, they’ll cut it out. You’ll do what you need to do and then you’ll move on. You can’t change it, so harden up, princess, and be the strong woman I know you to be.”

  “Fine. I’ll have a damn port,” she tuts.

  “There you go.”

  Walking into the kitchen, I find Marcus with a black bottle of Tawny in his hand and two port glasses on the counter in front of him. He removes the lid before sniffing from the spout. A soft hum leaves his mouth before he pours the orange-brown liquid a quarter way up the first glass.

  “I’d probably go a half glass. Mar-Mar will have your head on a stick if you give her that.”

  “Come here.” He grins, putting the bottle back on the bench before scooping me into his arms. “You smell so good.”

  “As good as the port you just sniffed, Snuffleupagus?”

  “Better.”

  “I see.” Something about being in his arms causes my body to tingle every time, like his skin is covered in magic.

  “How are you coping with Pamela’s news?”

  “I’m shocked. But for some reason, I feel like it’s going to be okay. I’m not sure why, though.”

  He shrugs his shoulders before kissing me just beside my ear. “We can talk more when we get back to the villa if you want. I should be getting these drinks to those two ladies before Ilish cracks her whip.”

  “About that...”

  “Yes?” He draws out the word with a small crease invading the skin between his eyebrows."

  “I think it’s best for me to stay here with Mum tonight. I’ll call you in the morning and we can meet up after she’s gone.”

  “If that’s what you want to do, then that’s fine by me.”

  Relief has my sudden tense shoulders dropping downwards. “Thank you,” I mouth before Marcus presses his lips lightly to mine.

  “Oh, crap,” I speak against his mouth, causing his head to pull back.

  “That bad, hey?”

  “No. Not that. My phone. I have no clue where it is. Oh, double crap.”

  “Yes?” His eyebrows rise up his forehead.

  “I didn’t call Sammy. Oh, triple crap. My car. I forgot to go and get my flippin’ car.”

  “Pardon.”

  “Long story.” Peeling his fing
ers from my waist, I scurry into the dining area and desperately yell out, “I forgot to get the car. My phone is in there.”

  Mum tilts her head to the side, looking at me like I’m as queer as pickles on ice cream. “Abigail, the car is in the garage. I did it this morning when Mar-Mar got back.”

  “My phone. Where are the keys?”

  “Your phone is in the bedroom on the charger.”

  “Mum, you’re a lifesaver.” I scurry into the bedroom and right there on the bedside table is my phone just as Mum said, the charger connected into the slot at the end of the blue sparkly case. Phew!

  Sitting on the edge of the bed, I disconnect the phone from its power supply and immediately call Sammy.

  “Ginger. Don’t be pissed. My phone was in the car. I couldn’t get it out after it was loaded to tow. Then I forgot to go and get the car. I was sidetracked, and Mum did it. Now I have my phone and I’m calling you as promised, even though I’m like twenty-four hours late. Seriously, this isn’t my fault, so you can’t be mad.” I talk at lightning speed before she even has a chance to say anything.

  “Great story.”

  “Mosby. Hey! Why do you have Sammy’s phone?”

  “She’s in the shower,” he says politely.

  “Oh, thank fuck. I thought something bad had happened.” I place my free hand over my chest and say a silent thank the Lord in my head.

  “How’s your time away going? Are you feeling better?”

  “Well, yeah, I was, but Mum is upset tonight and I hate seeing her like this. But...you know what, it’s fine. What are you doing?”

  “Waiting for my lady to get ready so I can wine and dine her.”

  “Oh, so you can shag her?”

  He chuckles. “No, that’s what I plan to do after I wine and dine her first.”

  “Touché, Mr. Mosby.”

  He chuckles again.

  “Who’s on the phone?”

  I hear Sammy’s voice.

  “Abs,” he answers immediately.

  “Oh, she remembered my number, did she?”

  I can hear the distaste in her tone.

  “It appears that way,” Mosby says before adding, “girl, you look smoking hot right now.”

  “I’m in a towel. Stop it.”

  I picture Sammy rolling her eyes and Mosby ogling her like he does at every chance he has.

  “Abigail, we’ll call you back.” Mosby hangs up before I even get a chance to reply.

  “Okie dokie then.”

  Throwing the phone onto the mattress, I lift my body from the bed with muscles that ache in my thighs.

  “Hey, Abigail, I’m going to head off now and leave you to be with Ilish and Pamela. I’ll talk to you in the morning, yeah?” Marcus enters the bedroom.

  “Yeah.” My heart feels heavy when I agree. After listening to those two clowns I call my friends on the phone, I kind of wish I had something in my life just like they do. I want the happiness and the fun of life and a solid relationship.

  “You look glum. What’s with the frown?”

  “Nothing.” I rub my fingertips up and down over my left temple.

  “You’re lying. But you don’t have to share with me. If you do want to talk about it, just call. I’ll be awake for a while.”

  “I just want to be happy, but my curse won’t have it. It’s just not on the cards for me.” These words were supposed to stay trapped in a thought. Instead, they erupt from my mouth without consent.

  Marcus launches forward and skims his fingers along my spine before they become lost in my hair. “I’ll make you happy,” he says before he kisses me so deeply, so passionately it causes my leg to flick up from the floor into the air.

  When Marcus’ lips leave mine, I mutter, “Seriously, how did you learn to kiss like that?” My closed eyes slowly open and when they do, I’m met with deep heavenly chocolate globes that look deep within me.

  “With you,” he whispers.

  These words ring loud and true and another wave of memories comes crashing hard into my subconscious.

  “You were a good instructor,” he continues.

  “Hell, I must have been, because…wow!”

  One corner of his mouth tugs upwards. “I better go. I’ll see you in the morning.”

  “The morning,” I repeat.

  “Yes, the morning.” A small chuckle echoes around the room before he steps away from me. “In the morning,” he mumbles again before he disappears through the open doorway.

  I hope sunrise gets here soon, because something in my heart tells me I won’t sleep a wink tonight without him.

  No Space

  “Abigail McMillian, get your meatless hiney out here immediately!”

  Mar-Mar, shit what have I done now? “Coming.”

  I don’t even make the end of the narrow hallway when I’m faced with Mar-Mar’s seething expression and hard stance.

  “Why did Marcus just leave without you?”

  “I need to stay here for Mum,” I answer abruptly with my arms to my side in wait of a tongue lashing from our family’s drill sergeant.

  “No, that’s what she has me for. You need to go do what it is you are here to do, miss.”

  “Which is?”

  “Don’t get smart mouth with me. You are here to sort your pathetic excuse for a life out before you end up six feet under, dead and buried before me.”

  “Harsh,” I sing.

  “Truth,” she sings back.

  Fuck, I love Mar-Mar.

  “Now pack some things and vamoose.” Her finger points outwards as she moves it up and down.

  “What about Mum?”

  “What about her?” Mar-Mar places her hands to her hips. “Abigail, she’s a fully grown woman. She has two functioning legs, two capable and working arms, and a heart that beats strong. Your mother doesn’t need you to hold her claw. What she does need is a daughter who has her head on straight by the time she gets home and back to living her life. The only way that this will happen, Abigail, is for you to face your past—spend some time with Marcus and decide how you move on in your life from here. I’m hoping it will be like a mature and responsible adult and not an immature, bloody bratty child. So pack some crap and go to the villa like I’m telling you to, or I might have to whip your butt.”

  “Mar-Mar.” I breathe sharply.

  “Don’t, Abigail. Quite frankly, I am sick of your crap. I’m old and I’ve lived life hard and still come out the other side thankful and with grace. You, my dear, need to learn to suck it up and fix things in your life when they are happening, not months after you go on a massive downward spiral. So I am taking it upon myself to give you this lesson now, because as God is my witness, if you don’t learn from this, I’m going to come down so hard on you, you will not know what the hell has hit you. Understand?”

  “Understand,” I reply, swallowing hard.

  I’m in so much trouble. Looks like Mum has been sharing all my disasters with my grandmother. Crap.

  I don’t get time to do anything except kiss Mum’s cheek and say goodbye before I’m booted to the curb. I mean, shouldn’t they be worried about me walking alone at night? I laugh outwardly at this thought because this small community is as quiet as a mouse in a cheese coma.

  The closer I get to the villa the more my stomach ties into sturdy knots. Why am I so nervous?

  Stopping by the door, I pat the pockets of my denim shorts, trying to find the key. Of course I don’t have one. Marcus has it. Knocking softly, I bite at my nail.

  “Hello?” His deep voice sends an army of goose pimples to invade my skin.

  I don’t reply.

  “Who is it?”

  “Me,” finally leaves my lips.

  The door cracks open a smidgen, while my nail is still clasped between my teeth.

  “Abigail.”

  “Is she.”

  The door widens slightly before I’m tugged through the gap by my arm and pulled against a hot and slightly damp chest. “Hey, you,�
� he says softly, looking into my eyes.

  “Hey, you,” I reply before scanning his perfect face.

  God, he’s beautiful.

  Putting my chin to my chest, I peek downwards. A bleached white towel is wrapped around his waist. I suck air suddenly at the sight of the ‘V’ that is perfectly sculpted by muscle.

  “I just had a shower.”

  I bite my lip as I hear my voice release a soft hum.

  “Abigail.” He interrupts my daydream.

  “Yeah.”

  “I’m up here.” He chuckles lowly.

  “Up there, sure…” Transfixed.

  Marcus clears his throat and my head flicks upward.

  A wide smile greets me. “Are you not staying at Ilish’s tonight?”

  “Apparently not.”

  “That’s a shame.” His mouth edges closer to mine.

  “It is…a shame.” I press my chin forward until our lips hover, slightly apart.

  “I mean, for me, it’s not.” His breath is minty fresh as his bottom lip skims mine.

  “For you…not.” Words are hard to find.

  “No.” He takes a breath right before his mouth is cushioned by mine.

  Wrapping my arms around his body, I place my hands on each shoulder blade. The need to mark his skin burns strong within, as his mouth explores mine. I don’t think I could ever not desire this man to kiss me like this and I don’t think I ever want to be apart from Marcus another day in my life. Five years was far too long. The tips of my nails now meet his flesh and my mind screams to slide them down, the temptation so strong it has my stomach sinking.

  “Do it,” he encourages when his lips leave mine. That wicked, yet sexy as fuck, gaze is all I can vision as my heart gallops and my knees weaken. “I want you to.”

  Pressing my mouth to his, I drag my nails down his skin. He doesn’t flinch. He just strengthens his hold on my tongue with his.

  Emanating a soft moan, my feet are no longer touching the ground. Instead, I wrap them around his waist. The cotton towelling that covered his lower body has slipped away.

  “Look at me, Abigail,” he says once his mouth leaves mine once more.

  I do.

  “Are you sure?”

  “Yes,” I pant.