Gordon looked at me with concern as I emerged from the doorway. His eyes were slightly glazed over with the medication that coursed through his veins courtesy of the large IV bag that was hanging above his head from a pole fastened to the headboard. I smiled as best I could as I approached him.
“I am sorry, I did not mean to wake you,” my apology was genuine. He needed to rest, and I had woken him.
“Are you alright, Leila?” he was looking at me sympathetically, his eyes softer than I had ever seen. I reached forward and grasped his hand, squeezing it slightly as I did so. He returned the gesture and held my hand tightly as I pulled one of the visitor chairs up to the edge of the bed and lowered myself onto its surface.
“I suppose I am. I guess all that is normal, or so I have read,” I attempted to ease the tension in the air by laughing at my last statement. Gordon looked on; the expression on his face was not one of humor. I wanted to avoid the conversation we would most definitely need to have, but knew it was coming. Fortunately, Gordon’s nurse entered the room before he could say anything more.
A short, slender young lady in light blue scrubs looked at us, a plastic smile plastered on her face. According to her name badge, her name was Jessica, and she was a Licensed Vocational Nurse. Her hair was pulled back into a tight French braid and a stethoscope rested casually around her neck. She offered no explanation, just busied herself with checking Gordon’s vitals. She retrieved a clipboard that was hanging on the bottom of the bed and flipped through the first few pages, nodding to herself as she did so, and making note of his current information. Finally, Jessica looked back up at us and addressed Gordon directly.
“Mr. Roth, your vitals look good. I believe you have stabilized, but the doctor will not be in until this afternoon to clear you for release. Do you need anything before I move on to my next patient?” Jessica stopped speaking and waited for him to respond, an expectant look etched onto her tiny features.
“No, thank you,” Gordon responded in a low voice, almost a whisper. He motioned toward me as if extending me the same inquiry.
“I could use something to settle my stomach, some crackers perhaps,” I looked at her, immediately noticing her eyebrows had arched up in an inquisitive manner.
“I will see what I can do,” she chimed. Jessica spun around on her heel and disappeared out the large doorway. I turned my attention back to Gordon, who was staring at me. It was clear he was searching for what to say next .
I took a deep breath. I wanted to put off that conversation as long as possible. It needed to be had, but I wanted time to formulate exactly what I would say. Considering the circumstances, I felt that it was best if that dialogue waited until Gordon was well. I lowered my gaze to his, looking him square in the eye and started to speak as I slowly formed words from my thoughts.
“Gordon, I know you have many unanswered questions. They will be answered, in time, but I want to you to rest for now. Your body has been through a lot and you need to heal. Trust me; there will be plenty of time for us to speak of what we need. For now, please indulge me and take some time to get well first.” I stopped speaking and looked at Gordon. His face was a mask and I could not tell his thoughts by the expression on his face.
“Very well,” he appeared disappointed and a little frustrated but apparently realized I was right. I reached forward and placed my hand on his head. Stubble was beginning to form as he had not been able to shave. As I stroked his scalp, it amused me to think that the effect was like that of a cat tongue licking my fingers. I almost giggled at this image, but thought better of it when I saw his reaction to my request on his face.
Gordon patted the mattress next to him. I smiled softly at him as I slid into the space that he had made for me. Sighing out loud, my head came to rest once again on his shoulder. We remained silent for several moments. I enjoyed the way his breathing made my head rise and fall. It was hypnotic and I began to drift off again when a short, pudgy gentleman in a white lab coat entered the room, followed closely by Jessica, the cutest nurse I have ever seen.
“Mr. Roth,” the man spoke with a deep accent as he picked up the same clipboard Jessica had recorded Gordon’s vitals on earlier. I tried to put my finger on it, but it was quite difficult; Indian perhaps. He too flipped through the first several pages, nodding in agreement at the numbers and letters scrawled in columns across the pages. “I believe you should be ok to be released. I just want to pull a few more blood samples to be sure. Jessica will take care of that and you should be on your way in no time,” he smiled jovially at Gordon who returned his look with a hardened stare. The man in the lab coat nodded firmly at him and turned around quickly, bouncing slightly as he walked out the door with Jessica at his heels like a loving puppy dog at his master’s beck and call.
Within fifteen or so minutes, Jessica returned with a young, bronze-skinned girl that looked vaguely familiar. She carried a basket in her hand with several tubes stacked inside. Natasha, her name tag proudly declared. My breath caught in my throat as she looked at Gordon and me in turn. A sly smile crept up onto her lips, pulling one corner up slightly. It dawned on me that she was the proud winner of the pony races at the Red Velvet Room. Amusement danced behind her eyes as she pulled a long rubber band, three color-coded tubes and a needle from her basket. Natasha carried on her business without saying much other than the standard cordial greetings the other staff had employed. When she was finished drawing her samples, she placed a cotton ball over the area where the needle pierced Gordon’s skin and carefully withdrew the needle, applying pressure as she did so. She placed the needle in a small red container within her basket and retrieved a simple bandage. With her free hand, she applied the bandage and began to exit the room. Natasha afforded us one last look over her shoulder, smiling as she did so, before she disappeared .
I laid with Gordon for nearly an hour before Jessica returned. She held in her hand a stack of several papers. That same fake smile graced her featured. It was almost annoying. Scurrying around the room, Jessica began to remove the tube from Gordon’s arm along with the flat pads that wired him to the vitals machine in increments across his chest. As she did so, she explained the paperwork she had handed to Gordon. He was being discharged with instructions to follow up with his primary within a few days. She rattled on about the after-care instructions that were included in the packet, almost as if she were on autopilot, her brain automatically regurgitating the information she had done so many times before. Once she had freed Gordon from the tentacles of their machinery, she took her leave, placing a large plastic bag on one of the chairs against the wall opposite of Gordon’s bed. “Patient’s Belongings” was stenciled in large, block letters across the surface.
I retrieved the clothes I had been mindful enough to bring from the penthouse with me. I placed them at the foot of the bed and offered my hand to Gordon to help him up. He grasped my hand and used it to help pull himself slowly from the mattress. He waited for several moments before attempting to move, standing with one hand poised on the bed rail and the other holding tightly to mine. Once he felt stable, Gordon released my hand and started to take the hospital gown off so he could change into his normal clothes. I helped him put on the underwear, pants and V-neck shirt I had brought. Gordon was trembling slightly with the activity by the time he was finished. I eased him back down onto the bed, where he sat with his legs dangling off the side until Jessica returned with a wheelchair.
“I will get him downstairs to the patient pick-up area if you want to go bring your car around,” Jessica regarded me, looking at me out of the corner of her eye before she spun Gordon around and walked him slowly from the room. I grabbed my purse and headed out the door after them. I moved quickly so Gordon did not have to wait too long at the curb. When I pulled my small car parallel to where they waited for me, I was a little embarrassed about having him ride in my car. He was so used to luxury and my humble vehicle was far from.
I threw several things from the passenger seat fl
oor into the backseat before exiting the vehicle and running around to open the passenger door. Jessica put the brakes on the wheelchair and Gordon used the arms to push himself up. He put his strong arm around my shoulders and released the wheelchair from his grasp as I guided him toward my car. Lowering him into the passenger seat, I reached around him and pulled the seatbelt around him, buckling him safely in, giving it a good tug before shutting the door and sliding in behind the wheel.
Gordon looked around my car, wrinkling his nose a little as he did so. His eyes met mine and locked on, darkness boring deep into my soul. I took a deep breath and let it out slowly before speaking.
“I followed the ambulance to the hospital in my car Gordon. Perhaps you would be more comfortable in your limousine, but then how would I get my car back to the penthouse?” I smiled meekly at him, and continued my banter. “I figured I would have the limo meet us there and drive you myself. It is only a short distance and…I apologize for the temporary discomfort.” I finished my sentence and waited as I watched him mull over my words before he replied.
“That does make logical sense that I simply cannot argue with,” Gordon chuckled lowly. I raised one eyebrow at him. He had never conceded to me, not since I met him. Even as Goddess, I had never thought to push it past what it was and test those waters. It was a little amusing to witness his admission of implied inferiority.
I pulled my cell phone from my purse. It was always in the little pocket on the side. I hated to dig through my purse for anything which is why I rarely bought a big purse. Just enough to handle business , I mused to myself. A smile touched my lips and Gordon tilted his head curiously in response. He looked as though he were expecting an explanation.
“Oh,” I laughed, “I was just thinking how much I hate huge purses and don’t understand how women deal with them.” Gordon joined me in laughter for a moment longer before I turned my attention to my cell phone and texted his driver that we were on our way to the penthouse and to please meet us there. I waited a few moments for his reply, which as expected was at lightning speed. His reply was simply that he understood and, as I commended him to myself, I instructed him to drive safely.
As we pulled away from the curb and headed toward the penthouse, my mind began to wander to the task at hand. I had a lot of explaining to do and was quite anxious about that. As we drove, my mind raced, desperately attempting to form the words I would say to Gordon once we reached our destination and I was forced to answer for my past discretions. I hoped that he would understand, but was insanely fearful of his reaction. It was too late for that now, I would just have to face the music and see what happened. I hated that.
-3-
I was secretly thankful that the ambulance had taken him to the closest hospital to the penthouse, even though it probably would not have been Gordon’s first selection, which happened to be incredibly close. The tension in the air on the way there was so thick you could cut it with a knife. When the tower appeared in the distance, my heartbeat began to increase. I was nervous about having THAT conversation with Gordon. Alone, with no one else to interrupt, he would have a million questions. Of that, I was sure.
As I pulled into the driveway at our stop, I looked for the limousine. He had parked in his usual spot. Close enough to not have to walk too far to the entry. Far enough to not have nosy neighbors or staff ogle him as he exited his chariot. I found a parking stall a few spaces down and pulled in, carefully put it in park and, because I was incredibly self-conscious with Gordon in my car, remembered to put on the parking break.
Turning the key, I killed the motor and waited. Gordon was glancing down at his cell phone and pressing buttons. He was no doubt talking shop so I busied myself with gathering all of his things from the back seat. When he finally indicated he was done with his conversation, I opened his door and offered him an arm to steady himself. Instead of taking me up on my offer, he used the car door to steady himself.
“No, Leila; I will do this on my own from here,” he stated matter-of-factly. I nodded and stepped aside to allow him space to walk. Grabbing his Patient’s Belongings bag from the back seat, I slung my purse over my shoulder and turned the key in the lock. Gordon laughed out loud, “and no keyless entry to boot!” He was making fun of my car. I was not amused but surprisingly, it did not bother me that much. Gordon was right. If I could afford it, I would have replaced that piece of crap long ago.
The doors whooshed open as we approached. A blast of cool air blew in our faces as we passed through the glass entry. We walked through the lobby and occasionally nodded in the direction of a busy staff member scurrying across the polished floor. When we reached the elevator doors, my heart started pounding in my chest. It was so intense; I could feel it in the top of my head. I suddenly felt a little dizzy, which kicked in the nausea at rapid speed. Attempting to suppress the sudden need to hurl, I breathed slowly and deeply through my nose. After several moments, what felt like eternity, I felt a little calmer.
I hadn’t noticed, but the elevator doors had slid open and Gordon was looking at me from inside the car. Scurrying across the threshold, I attempted to mentally prepare myself for the long ride up. Considering I was already sick to my stomach with anxiety, a torturous ride in one of my least favorite contraptions was not my idea of a picnic. Gordon reached forward and punched in the pin number and hit the button. The doors closed as prompted and we were on our way.
By the time we reached the top, I was feeling quite ill. I almost pushed Gordon out of the way as I practically ran across the penthouse to the bathroom. Once again, I almost did not make it before I could not hold it back any longer. I rinsed my mouth out and splashed some cool water on my face after I was finished losing what little I had eaten that morning. At least crackers don’t taste that bad coming back up. I stopped laughing when I looked in the mirror.
My reflection told me I was a mess. I tried to smooth out my long, red hair and splashed more water onto my face before blotting it dry with a soft, terry-cloth towel hanging in a ring to the right of the basin. Part of me was stalling for time. I needed time to calculate what I would say to Gordon once the subject of the baby came back up. I was extremely nervous about it. The whole situation was, well frankly, mortifying. What kind of woman does not know who her baby’s father is? Most would classify me as a slut just for that. In my defense, I only included Matthew in the equation because I could not exclude him. Based on the math, we had one encounter in the “window of opportunity.” Gordon and I had many more so I was ninety-nine-point nine percent sure it was not Matthew’s. I just hoped he trusted me enough to accept that explanation, until I could prove myself right.
When I finally emerged from the bathroom, Gordon had made his way to the large, glass windows that made it seem as though we were floating on the ocean. He stared down at the water, entranced by the playful dance the waves had with the sandy shore. I almost wanted to leave him there in his thoughts.
Instead, I cleared my throat to let him know I was in the room. He glanced over at me, slowly turning his head. I could see a sparkle near his eye, in the corner. Was he crying? Trying not to panic, the look on his face was that of a man crushed by someone’s careless actions, I walked slowly in his direction. Before I reached him, he pulled me into his arms and squeezed me tight. He ran one hand down my hair several times; caressing me I started to relax, leaning farther into his embrace. I wanted to stay there, to not let go of that moment in time. As if I could foresee the future, I would have given anything for that to happen.
Gordon slowly loosened his grip on me and allowed me to take a step back. I tilted my head up at him, his features suddenly the softest I had ever seen. He looked like he was…broken. It suddenly hit me that it was my fault. I had broken the big, bad monstrosity. I took his heart and ripped it from his chest and took a big bite as he watched it stop beating, before I threw it on the floor and stomped on it. I had to set it straight. I was finally ready to tell him and, in essence, defend myself if necessary
.
“Gordon, please, let’s sit down and talk. I know I have hurt you, damaged you even. You are wearing that all over your face. I even feel it in your touch. It is somehow, different.” I stopped and ushered him to sit down on the love seat in the sitting area next to the play arena he had installed in my honor. When he was settled, I drew in a deep breath and prepared myself to speak again. “I wanted to start by saying I am sorry. I did not want you to find out the way that you did. Honestly, I wish I would have just waited but, I feel waiting as long as I did was in itself one of my transgressions. Before you say anything, I want to put one thing on the table. I only included Matthew in the equation because I had to. I had been with him once before we really started getting intimate and it happened to be within the right time to be the father. Please know that I am so very positive it is your baby, Gordon, I just did not want to lie and have you find out down the line, just in case. I did not want to…lie.” And there it was.
He sat silently on the edge of the bed, gripping the side with his hands tightly. So tight, his knuckles had started to turn white. I was nervous about how he would reply. The look on his face did not lend enough information to be accurate about what he was feeling. Anger? Sadness? Both? All I could do was sit quietly, this time MY eyes were cast down, and hope he did not lose it completely.
Gordon took in a deep breath and let it out. I could sense that he was struggling with what to say. He already had to deal with nearly losing his life due to the actions of my other lover, but on top of that, learned that I was expecting a child and that it was most likely his. A little much for someone to tolerate. I considered running screaming out of the penthouse and never looking back. I sighed audibly. It was far too late for that now.
I sat nervously wringing my hands together waiting for him to say something. Anything. His silence was much more painful to me than anything. I watched him open his mouth and then quickly draw it closed several times. Inside my mind, I wished I could shrivel inward and disappear. Escaping that moment in time.
Leila: Goddess The Second Coming Page 2
