Surrender to You

by Shawntelle Madison

  “Patty?” I whispered. Her face was in a grimace and she was breathing fast. “Are you all right?”

  “I’m fine,” she murmured.

  “I called the house, but you didn’t pick up.”

  “I didn’t feel like getting up.”

  I guess I was upset for nothing. I chuckled softly. “I can imagine.”

  I fetched her some medication and water. “Here you go.”

  She looked at me, blinked, and then accepted her medication. “You changed your hair.”

  “Yeah, I did.”

  I left her to sleep. Instead of driving back to the city, though, I curled up on her couch. Hearing her breathing in the other room finally set me at ease. Normally I would’ve set my alarm clocks, but this time I didn’t care.

  Chapter 23

  Tomas

  The hotel sale was moving forward smoothly. The two teams from Asia continued to express interest, but neither of them had the type of portfolio I was interested in.

  Carlie had been in and out of the hotel and we’d had little time to connect. Keeping myself busy with work seemed the best. Everything I wanted was right in front of me. All I had to do was sell the Goodfellow Tower and move on to the next project.

  When I was thinking about Carlie, I’d distract myself with the next sites. So far, sites in London and South Korea had caught my interest.

  This was my zone, though. I could focus on numbers, planning, and construction and not think about the woman who was pulling me deeper into her life.

  Wendy entered my office with the latest notes from the meeting. “Is there anything else I can do for you today?”

  I shook my head.

  “You’ve been buried in work for the past few days. Would you like for me to clear your evening so you can relax? Maybe have dinner with that pretty lady I saw you with the other day?”

  I never had pretty ladies coming around my office. I kept any relationships on the twenty-second floor at best.

  I shook my head. “No need to clear my schedule. I have no plans tonight.” I truly didn’t. Carlie was spending more time with her mother and it wasn’t my place to tell her otherwise.

  “Understood, Mr. Goodfellow. I’ll get you those numbers for the Seoul site then.”

  I jumped back into my work, ready to move on if necessary.

  Carlie

  I woke up horrifically late. And in pain, too.

  Mom’s couch didn’t have springs anymore, so my poor back had become one with the bumpy surface. The coils groaned as I turned over. The room was bathed in light—my first bad sign—and the house was quiet. Mom hadn’t gotten up yet as I’d hoped.

  I checked my cellphone and the time was far later than I wanted it to be. As in ten A.M. later.

  I rolled off the couch and managed not to fall onto the floor. Rubbing my back didn’t reduce the ache from lying there all night.

  Instead of hurrying to work though, I went into Patty’s room to check on her.

  She was in the same position I’d left her in. Curled up on her side. How long had she slept like that?

  “Patty?” I approached her, but she didn’t move. I got closer until I was practically near enough to hear the slight rise and fall of her breath. Tentatively, I reached out and touched her side. Her skin was warm, but her sour sweat made me wrinkle my nose.

  Was she even taking care of herself?

  Let the home care person you hired take care of this, I reminded myself. But the lady wouldn’t get here until the afternoon and my mom hadn’t gotten up in a long time.

  I glanced at my watch again. I was already late anyway. It didn’t matter. I left the bedroom and got some broth cooking on the stove. While that warmed up, I made a phone call to Mom’s doctor. Then I started the shower.

  Once I knocked out those tasks, I marched back into the room. “Time to get up, Patty.”

  By the time I shook her a few times, she muttered and finally stirred. “I’m tired.”

  “Yeah, I’m tired, too. We partied pretty hard last night.”

  That got a laugh out of her. “Did we have exotic dancers?”

  “Fuck yeah. You slept through the guy with the foot-long dick, though.”

  “I always miss the big-dick ones.” I helped her out of bed.

  “How’s your stomach?” I asked.

  “Shitty,” she muttered.

  “After you shower, we’re going to the clinic to get you checked out. I called ahead for a sick visit.”

  I couldn’t see her while she ambled to the bathroom, but I could feel her looking at me. I didn’t turn around until she reached the bathroom.

  “Do you need help?” I called to her.

  “Not unless you plan to help me take a—”

  “Sounds good, Patty.” I shook my head with amusement.

  An hour later, I had called in to take another day off, Patty was clean again, and we were on the road back into the city for her doctor’s appointment. Compared to all the chatter and complaining back at the house, Mom changed the moment we reached the medical center.

  She wouldn’t look at me, and she fell into a silence as she closed in on herself. Even when I pushed her in the wheelchair to her appointment, she didn’t whisper a word.

  Does she feel the same way about hospitals that I do?

  We didn’t have to wait long, and soon enough a physician checked her out. I was ready to leave the room, but Patty didn’t say anything. I waited for the snide comments even during the exam. The doctor even tried to joke with her. I tried not to look during the exam, but the length of time he took to examine her abdomen made me look. Her stomach was distended and slightly discolored.

  “Is that to be expected post-surgery?” I asked, finally giving in.

  “A little discoloration is to be expected.” He explained how part of her intestines had to be removed due to the bowel cancer—the cancer she’d likely contracted from a poor diet as someone with celiac disease.

  “Have you been taking it easy, Patty?” the doctor asked.

  Mom responded with a bunch of one-syllable answers.

  I jumped in and responded when she wouldn’t. Somebody had to care.

  “What about your diet?” he asked.

  “I’ve been managing her meals,” I piped up.

  “Are you familiar with her new diet?” he asked.

  I nodded. “I was recently diagnosed with celiac disease myself.”

  “Then I’m assuming you’re familiar with the diet and potential complications?” he said.

  I looked away and he smiled. “You’re not the first or the last patient to do that.” He marked notes on his chart. “If you have time today, I’d like to schedule time for you and your mom to meet with our staff dietitian. It won’t take long and she can talk to you about your lifestyle change.”

  Yes, my new life was a lifestyle change.

  “Thanks, Dr. Craft,” I said since I knew Mom didn’t plan to.

  After that, we spent the whole day in the city, from the doctor’s appointment to our meeting with the dietitian. I learned more from the dietitian than I could ever glean from the Internet.

  “Just don’t read the Internet unless it’s from a reputable source,” was her first tip. “There’s conflicting information all over the place. When in doubt, consult the reading material I give you. Depending on your condition’s severity, as well as your mother’s, your problems from malabsorption could be worse due to what you’re eating.”

  Boy, does she have a point there.

  After Mom’s appointment, we ate lunch downtown at one of the restaurants the dietitian recommended. The moment we left the medical center, my mom was back to her old self.

  “Do they have anything good here?” she asked.

  “Yeah, the steak is marvelous, and I believe Dr. Craft cleared you to eat a few bites.”

  That got a smile from her. “I hope you know I’m not paying for this meal.”

  “This meal wouldn’t be a meal with you if you didn’t
say that anyway.” As gruff as she could be, I found I rather liked her bluntness.

  She was just like me.

  As I watched her eat her lunch, all the while talking unabashedly about the diners around us, I couldn’t help thinking about what would happen to her tomorrow. I would eventually have to return to work. Would she get up tomorrow morning?

  Quitting quickly came to mind.

  You need a job, Carlie. You barely have enough money to take care of yourself. What about your business in the U.K.?

  I could get a part-time job closer to where she lived. I didn’t sit long on the decision. I finally had her—even if she was calling the lady across the room a weird-looking hooker.

  “Do you even know what a weird-looking hooker wears?” I asked.

  “I was the manager of a band,” Mom replied. “I’ve seen hookers, Carlie. Most of them try not to look cheap and they fail.”

  I rolled my eyes and a decision was made right then and there.

  I’d finally found her and leaving her behind to pursue my career wasn’t gonna happen.

  Warmth filled my chest and the doubts pressing down on my shoulders eased. This was what I wanted.

  “Patty, how would you feel about me coming over tomorrow?” I began.

  She shrugged and stirred her salad around her plate. “I don’t mind.”

  “What if I stayed longer than tomorrow?”

  She looked up at me and I found it hard to read her expression. Did I do the same thing? “You’re not that bad to be around.”

  “Oh really, that’s good.”

  “I thought the minute you walked through that hospital door it would be all about how I left you behind. I’ll be honest and say it: I chose the road over you, but I did try.” She looked away briefly. “For eight months, Frank and I tried to keep you, but we lived on the road with a bunch of grown-ass men and there was no proper place for you to sleep. Having a kid in hotel rooms around a bunch of groupies wasn’t good.” She bit her lower lip. “I tried…”

  I reached out for her hand. I thought she’d pull away, but she let me place my hand over hers. “I always imagined you did.”

  “You were a horrible baby. You cried all the damn time.”

  I almost choked on my food. “I believe that’s what infants do.”

  “And you never wanted to stay in one place.”

  “That, too.” Now she was taking things a bit too far.

  “What I’m trying to say is giving up my own kid was the hardest thing I’d ever done. I’ll be honest, there were times when I hated seeing you waiting for me. Seeing you meant I couldn’t be free anymore. If I gave you away, I wouldn’t worry about you anymore. Out of sight, out of mind.”

  “I wondered about that, too.”

  Her eyebrows lowered as if she wondered what I meant.

  “Does out of sight, out of mind really work, Patty?”

  “Not really.” Now my mom was crying.

  The hard wedge we’d placed between us didn’t seem like a mountain to climb anymore.

  She wiped her mouth with her napkin. “So what happens now?”

  “I make sure you get back on your feet, we eat strange meals that promise to be gluten-free, and you make bad jokes at my expense.”

  “I think I like this plan.”

  Chapter 24

  Tomas

  After a long workday, I didn’t expect to see someone waiting for me beside the Maserati. A woman in a light blue dress with curly red hair to her shoulders stood next to the door, her arms crossed and a serene look on her face.

  A gust of wind blew her tight red ringlets across her face. Her ruby lips parted and her cheeks blossomed into a smile, revealing that adorable dimple of hers. The light from a streetlamp hit the back of her head and her beauty took my breath away.

  “Hey, Goodfellow,” she said with a wave.

  “Hey, Gingerbread.” I crossed the distance between us. “You look absolutely…” I tried to find the right words and I failed.

  “What are you doing here?” I asked her.

  “I came to see you.”

  I stuffed my hands into my pockets. “Are you all right?”

  “I’m much better now.”

  “You look that way. Do you have time to talk?”

  “I’ve got plenty of time. I was hoping you could clear your schedule for coffee or maybe even dinner. Wishful thinking, but I’ve had so much happen to me…”

  “Of course. We should have dinner and a few drinks.”

  Her smile faltered. “If you don’t mind, I was hoping we could grab some food and head back to your place. I’d like some quiet time.”

  “Anything.” But I saw where this was going. Behind closed doors, we’d go through the same motions again, but instead of getting in the car, she took my hand and pulled me down the street.

  “Let’s go,” she urged.

  Her warm hand squeezed mine.

  “I thought you wanted to grab a bite to eat and head to my place?” I asked.

  “We are, but I want to take a walk first, maybe pick up some street food before we head back.”

  Now this was unusual.

  So we strolled down Thirty-Fourth Street.

  “Any idea where we’re going?” I asked.

  She shrugged and the heat from the late summer day touched her face. “No idea. I just…missed seeing you. I got spoiled when you brought me lunches all the time.”

  “Not hard at all. Speaking of the hospital, how is your mom?”

  “She takes it one day at a time. I’d like to say she’s doing better, but I don’t know how long it takes to recover from major bowel surgery. I guess she has good days and bad days. More bad ones than good.”

  I nodded.

  On our way around the block, we stopped at a few places. One in particular I wasn’t expecting. I even tried to avoid it. “Do you want food from here?”

  “I just want to go in.”

  “I’d rather have a burger,” I offered.

  “Just c’mon.” She browsed the aisle, looking at the cakes and such. She stopped in front of the window. “There is something I’ve been needing to tell you for a long time.”

  “What’s on your mind?”

  She bit her lower lip. “I have celiac disease…There, I said it.” She released a deep breath.

  “I knew already.”

  She released a long sigh. “I had a feeling.”

  “Why did you wait so long?”

  “Fear. After my childhood friends found out, they treated me differently. I see them now, and they handle me like I’m fragile china or something.”

  “You’re far from that.”

  “I agree.” She leaned on the counter to ask a question. “Do you have any gluten-free options?”

  “Sorry, ma’am,” the man said, “we don’t have anything. Our boss said something about cross-contamination. We prepare all our breads in the kitchen in the back.”

  She nodded and smiled as if she’d heard that many times before. So we left the bakery.

  “I was always wondering how you got that meal for me the night you showed up at my apartment. You knew then too, huh?” she asked.

  “Yeah.”

  “How did you find out?”

  He told me about my birthday dinner and I laughed. “So you’re the mystery man who paid for our meal.”

  I intertwined our fingers. Holding her hand felt damn good.

  So much time had passed since that night. By the time we picked up some burgers, an hour had passed with just me and her. We hadn’t walked around like this in a long time. Maybe she’d be open to doing it more.

  Once we returned to the hotel, we rode up my private elevator to my penthouse. Anticipation made it hard for me to concentrate. The need to touch her again rocketed through me, but I wanted to stretch out every moment without hurrying. When the dawn came she’d be gone.

  I didn’t want to lose a single moment.

  We ate our food on the penthouse patio. Between bit
es we grinned like fools.

  “Is it that good?” I asked.

  “Hell yeah.” She held up how much she had left. She didn’t complain while she ate her beef patty wrapped in lettuce.

  I couldn’t stop staring at her. “Do you remember the first time we kissed?”

  That made her pause. “Of course I do.” She made a face as if she’d tasted something bad. “You were awful at it.” She darted her tongue, in the most unappealing manner, into the opening of her lettuce. “You did this over and over again.”

  I busted out laughing. “I was that bad?”

  “You were twenty. Like you knew any better.”

  I put my burger down and wiped off my hands. “What about now?”

  “What do you mean?” She put down her food.

  “Don’t play coy with me. You know what I’m asking. Have I improved?”

  Her olive green eyes blinked and she glanced away as if suddenly shy. My heart was beating so fast I had trouble catching my breath.

  I traced my fingertips over her lips. “You still make my heart race like the first time.”

  I lightly kissed her forehead and nothing else. Every part of my being begged for me to trail my mouth along the bridge of her nose to her lips, but I didn’t budge.

  Your move, Gingerbread.

  I waited. Then it came. A brief brush of her lips against mine. The kiss was tentative, just like that summer day when we kissed for the first time. Our heads tilted and I drew her seat closer to mine. We continued to kiss, a sensual dance beginning with our tongues. The wind blew between the buildings, making her hair tickle my face, but nothing would stop me from doing what I’d waited years to do.

  Finally we parted, our breath quickened and my heart still beating fast enough to cause a dull ache.

  I drew her thick hair out of her face, brushing my fingertips against her brown freckles. “Carlie, stay with me tonight.”

  “Is that an order?” she whispered.

  “No.”

  She tilted her head. “I’ll stay.”

  We left behind our food and lay next to each other on one of the wide lawn chairs. I pulled her close to me and we lay face-to-face, our foreheads a mere hairsbreadth apart. Overwhelmed with emotion, I had to speak.