by Harmon, AJ
“You need to be resting,” Ethan instructed and guided her to a loveseat. “Let me make you some coffee.”
“Thank you,” she smiled. Sitting felt good. With her head leaning back on the soft cushions, Bess allowed her eyes to close for just a second… or two.
*****
She looked so peaceful. Her blonde hair fanned out behind her like a halo, the warm sun shining through the window and giving it a golden glow. Her lips were slightly parted, her breathing easy and peaceful. Ethan wanted nothing more than to lean over her and gently touch his lips to hers… to taste her. He knew it would be everything he imagined it would be; warm, sweet, and addicting. He watched her chest rise and fall with each breath and remembered she’d just had surgery a few days before. This was not the time, and he wasn’t sure it ever would be. He placed the steaming cup of coffee on the table next to her and returned to the kitchen, continually fighting the urge to taste her… just once.
Instead, he made a sandwich and then wrapped it in wax paper and placed it on the top shelf of the fridge. He made sure there were fresh towels in the bathroom and placed her two duffel bags in the bedroom on the main floor. It’s the bedroom he’d used when he’d lived there. He rarely had gone upstairs and it remained largely unchanged from when the last owners had purchased the house. One day he would need to go through the bedrooms and the boxes that were up there. But for now, Bess would be comfortable.
He wrote a quick note, telling her he’d check in on her later, and left his cell phone number in case she needed anything. And then he left.
*****
Bess opened her eyes, surprised it was taking so long for Ethan to make a cup of coffee. However, when she looked around, she noted the sun off in the horizon as it began its’ final descent for the day, the dramatic orange and pink colors streaking across the sky. A cup of cold coffee sat next to her on the table, a note trapped underneath doubling as a coaster. She read it quickly and went to the fridge. A wrapped sandwich was just where he’d said it would be. It was incredibly thoughtful of him to make a snack for her. She smiled as she unwrapped it and took a big bite.
After satisfying her growling stomach, Bess gently moved through the main floor of the house once again. It was simple yet majestic, in that parts of the house had stood for over four hundred years. The foyer, though small, held the elegant staircase with the original banister. One day, when her strength had returned, she would venture up to the upper floor. Ethan had said that he spent little time up there, but Bess was sure it would be an adventure. In the meantime, she would continue her exploration of downstairs.
The furnishings were comfortable and modern with a few antiques here and there. It was tastefully done, not overcrowded and not overstated. Bess smiled as she came across a framed photograph of a young boy on the beach, sand covering his legs and a huge smile across his face. It must have been Ethan, she supposed. He was a cute kid and looked extremely happy as he played in the sand. There was also a painting on the wall, a large sailboat on the waves, painted in watercolors. She looked at the signature. A James. Bess wondered which family member had painted it.
By the time she found herself in the master bedroom, Bess was in love with the house. It was homey and warm and she could imagine herself living there, but that was a thought she couldn’t have. This was not her home and she would not be there for long. She needed to remember that. She couldn’t get too comfortable. At some point, after the drug trial was over, she would have to leave.
It weighed heavily on her mind as Bess unzipped the first duffle bag and placed her clothes on one of the shelves in the closet. Ethan had told her to make herself at home, seeing as though the trial would last at least six months. At least that was six months that she didn’t have to worry about where she was going to sleep at night. The huge king-sized bed would be her safe haven for the next little while.
Ethan had certainly gone well beyond the role of her doctor, and he wasn’t her doctor any longer. That position was now held by Dr. Eric Ryder. Ethan had gone and got her car from the diner and driven it to the hospital parking lot. He had promised to bring it to the house for her so she would be able to leave when she pleased, although she had been instructed that she was not to drive for the next several days. Ethan had pulled her duffle bags from the backseat and brought them with him when he’d driven Bess to the house. He’d been very thoughtful.
Putting away her clothes had zapped her of all energy. She’d never had surgery before and she hoped this would be the first and only time she’d have to experience it. Although she felt famished, she had only eaten half of her sandwich before she started to feel full, and walking from one side of the house to the other had her panting and out of breath. It was still painful to stand up perfectly straight, the soreness in her abdomen even keeping her awake at night. She had been given pain pills, but she’d seen too many of her neighbors in the apartment complex addicted to drugs, so she wanted to stay as far away as possible from anything that might get her hooked. Regina had told her she was being overly worried, but Bess didn’t want to risk it, so she was prepared to wait it out, knowing that eventually it would improve slowly.
As she laid down on the bed, curling her knees in slightly, Bess took a deep breath and closed her eyes, just for a minute or two. It felt good to be off her feet and the mattress was soft and cozy, molding to her body and enveloping her in warmth.
*****
Ethan stood on the front porch of his house and had to think before he just opened the door and walked in. Yes, it was his house, but Bess was living there now. He had to be conscious of giving her privacy. So he knocked and waited.
After knocking for the third time, he opened the door and let himself in. He would have to remind Bess to keep it locked. Port Lincoln didn’t have much more than some petty juvenile crime, but still, she should be safe.
All was quiet. He ventured to the back of the house, to the family room where he’d left her sound asleep a few hours earlier. She was no longer on the loveseat. The last room he checked was his bedroom. Her bedroom. The door was wide open as he peeked around the door frame. She was sound asleep. Taking a couple of silent steps into the room, he stood at the foot of the bed and watched her.
He’d never once had any thoughts about a patient that were not appropriate and professional. He’d never once taken an interest in a patient, other than the physical symptoms that would lead him to a diagnosis, or a wound that needed his immediate attention. Ethan wondered what it was about this woman that had him acting so out of character.
As she lay before him, he gazed at her long hair, once again fanned behind her, framing her face. It was long and wavy and looked incredibly soft. Of its own volition, his hand raised, as if to reach out and run his fingers through her locks. He stopped himself and stayed put. Her face was oval in shape and her nose was the perfect size and shape. Her lashes were long and dark as they rested against her cheeks, and her lips were pink and full, just begging to be kissed.
With that thought, Ethan abruptly turned and marched to the kitchen, the bag of takeout still in his hand. He turned the oven on low and stashed the Chinese food, still in their cardboard containers, on the lowest rack to keep warm.
Should he wake her? Should he just leave? Should he make himself comfortable and wait for her to wake on her own? He’d planned on eating with her, but perhaps that was a foolish idea. He’d convinced her to live in his house, telling her it would actually be a favor she was doing for him. He didn’t like the idea of it just sitting empty and tempting a passing vagrant. She was helping him out, not the other way round. But he probably shouldn’t make a habit of showing up all the time, even if he did have food with him.
Answering his dilemma, Ethan sat in the gathering room and pulled out his phone. He would check his emails and if she was still asleep when he was done, he’d leave her another note telling her that there was food in the oven.
He took his time reading each and every word of every email, eve
n the junk mail.
And his plan worked.
About fifteen minutes later, Bess sleepily walked out of the bedroom, down the hall and through the foyer, and stopped when she saw Ethan, focused on his phone.
“Uh, hi,” she stammered.
Ethan looked up with a killer grin, the kind that could stop hearts and melt icebergs.
“Good evening,” he smiled. “I brought dinner.”
“Words near and dear to my heart,” Bess smiled brightly. “Let’s eat!”
She followed Ethan into the kitchen where he magically produced several boxes of delicious rice, chow mein, orange chicken, beef and broccoli, and jumbo shrimp.
“How did you know that orange chicken is my favorite?” Bess asked, bewildered.
“Is it?” Ethan looked surprised. “I had no idea what you’d like so I ordered my favorites.”
“Well, that couldn’t have worked out better if we’d planned it,” she exclaimed.
Ethan pulled two plates from the cupboard and handed her a pair of chopsticks. Bess hesitantly took them from him, eying the contraptions suspiciously.
“You’ve never used them before?” Ethan asked as he nodded at the utensils.
“Nope. I thought that’s why plastic forks were invented,” Bess shrugged.
Ethan laughed and pulled a stainless steel fork from the drawer behind him. “This will have to do,” he teased and handed it to her. Bess graciously accepted the fork and they each loaded their plates.
As they made themselves comfortable on the sofas in the family room, the wall of windows providing a magnificent view of the moon’s reflection in the ocean, Bess decided she should get to know her benefactor.
“So,” she began. “Tell me about your grandparents.”
“From the time my brother and I were little, my mom was always ill. She had Lupus and her quality of life suffered. There were other complications as well that left her in bed… a lot. My dad’s parents, my grandparents, had moved here years before and we’d always spent holidays here, so after the time I was about seven, I guess, we would come here the day after school got out in the summer and stay for our entire vacation. Dad stayed at home and worked and visited on the weekends. I actually forgot my mom was sick for those few weeks.”
“I’m so sorry,” Bess whispered. “Your mom?”
“She died a few years ago from e coli. Most healthy adults make it, but mom’s immune system was so weakened that we knew it would take her.”
“I’m sorry,” she repeated softly.
“It is what it is,” Ethan shrugged. “I never understood that phrase, but now I get it. Stuff happens and there’s not a damn thing we can do about it.”
“Your dad?”
“He lives in Newark. He remarried a couple of years ago and that’s where his new wife is from.” His tone was matter-of-fact, not an emotion to be heard. Bess picked up on it and changed the subject.
“You have a brother? Older or younger?”
“Older, by two minutes,” he grinned. “Evan. He lives in Boston. He’s a professor. Teaches biology at Boston College.”
“A doctor and a professor. Your mom must have been very proud of you.”
“I’d like to think so,” he whispered.
Bess could see the pain in his eyes. Usually bright and a light blue, now there were almost grey and sorrowful. The laugh lines around them seemed to have vanished and she sensed the loss he still felt, even after the years had passed.
“I can’t even begin to imagine how difficult it must have been. You obviously still miss her terribly.”
“I do. But there are lots of people who manage to live without a mother.”
Bess retreated into herself. She didn’t like to talk about her mother. She didn’t even like to think about her. The woman who was supposed to love her unconditionally and keep her safe, didn’t. Bess’s mind wandered back to that night, that horrible night. It wasn’t just that her stepfather had wanted to have sex with her, that was bad enough on its own. But as he’d managed to get up after she’d kneed him in the balls as hard as she could, she’d seen her mother appear in the hallway, just outside her bedroom door. Instead of coming to her rescue, she helped her husband out of the room, her arms around him, glaring at her over her shoulder all the while. She’d made her choice, and it wasn’t Bess.
That look, that non-verbal betrayal made Bess’s decision easy. There was no way she would stay in a place where she worried about her physical safety night after night, knowing her mother had no intention of doing a damn thing to protect her. When she walked out of the house the following morning, she’d said good riddance to both of them.
“You look completely lost in thought,” Ethan noted as he’d watched her expression change, her brows furrow, and her lips purse.
“It’s nothing.” Bess lifted her head and pasted a smile on her face. “Do you get to see your brother very often?”
“We try to get together in the summer. He brings a different woman here every year,” he chuckled. “He doesn’t appear to be the marrying kind.”
“Ah,” Bess smiled.
“And we alternate holidays as best we can. He usually comes here because of my work schedule. But he loves it here, almost as much as I do.”
“But you got the house?” Bess was curious how Ethan’s brother thought about that.
“Yeah. Evan is a city guy. He would suffocate out here. Too much open space and not enough women.”
“Gotcha,” Bess nodded.
“Do you have siblings?”
On the outside, Bess looked at ease sitting in the corner of the loveseat, her long legs folded underneath her, her near-empty plate in her hands. But unease raged on the inside as, once again, memories of her family were brought to the forefront of her mind.
“I have a half-brother,” she responded.
“Older? Younger?”
“Younger. I was twelve when he was born.”
“Are you close?” Ethan ventured, wondering if she would open up to him.
“No. I haven’t seen him in… in years. I guess he’d be eleven now?”
Ethan tried to gauge her mood. There was a tightness in her voice that told him it pained her to speak of her family, but he persisted.
“So, you have a stepfather then?”
“I did. I do not consider him family. He’s just the asshole my mother married.”
“Not a nice guy then,” Ethan said, knowing it was time to change the subject. “How was your dinner?”
“Excellent!” Bess replied immediately, happy not to talk any more of them. “I can’t believe I ate so much.”
“Well there’s plenty more for you to eat tomorrow.”
“Thank you, Ethan. You have been very kind to me and I don’t know how to thank you.”
“No need to thank me. Just get well. That’s all I want,” he smiled. “I should get going. I have an early shift in the morning and you need to get your rest.” Ethan stood and took their plates through to the sink, rinsed them off and placed them on the bottom rack of the dishwasher. “I’ll lock the door on my way out. Sleep well, Bess.”
4.
It was determined that Bess would not need chemo or radiation. She was one of the very lucky ones. She’d been admitted into the drug trial being overseen by Dr. Eric Ryder at a moments’ notice, and was fortunate to not experience any of the possible side effects, so far. Plus, the drug company was paying all of her medical expenses. Yes, Bess most definitely considered herself to be lucky, indeed.
Her strength was returning, her incisions healing, and she was taking shorter and shorter naps every day. Bess took walks along the cliff, feeling the salt water spray against her cheeks and the wind whip through her hair. Regina stopped by every few days to check on her and Ethan had brought by a trunk full of groceries to fill the fridge and the pantry. If it wasn’t for the unknown that awaited her once the trial was over, she might have thought she was happy.
Happy. One gorgeous afternoon, Be
ss sat on the porch swing, a cold glass of lemonade in her hand, her sunglasses sitting on her nose, enjoying the blue sky and the warm sun, she contemplated the idea of being happy. She couldn’t remember actually feeling unadulterated joy… ever. The realization was the saddest feeling in the world. What were the odds that she would experience happiness in her future?
Despair overtook her as the minutes ticked by. Homeless. Alone. Almost penniless. She was still sitting on the swing as the sun began to set, her cheeks crusty from dried tears and her eyes bloodshot red. She’d survived her stepfather. She’d survived being on her own for years, and somehow, she’d survived being evicted. She’d even survived cancer. But for what? She’d never thought about having children of her own. Bess wasn’t even sure she’d wanted children. That is until Dr. Ryder had told her he’d removed an ovary. A woman must have ovaries in order to have children. It was in that moment she knew that she did want children. She did want a family. She wanted to be loved and she wanted to love. And all of that was now an unknown. Would she be able to have a baby with only one ovary? Was that also something that had been callously ripped away from her? It seemed that there was not a whole lot to look forward to, to dream about… to suffer through all the shit… for what?
She stood, almost in a trance, and stepped off the porch and headed for the cliff. There was no conscious thought, no purpose in her steps, she just walked. As she approached the edge, the sharp, jagged rocks below, the waves crashing against land, Bess just didn’t see the point of it all. There was no point to anything.
Closer and closer to the edge Bess moved. Two more steps and...
“STOP!”
Bess sucked in a gasp and swung around to see who was there. She could see no one – it must have been her imagination - so she turned back to the ocean.
“STOP!” the voice yelled for the second time.
Hesitantly, Bess slowly took two steps backwards and stopped, the edge of the cliff no longer a threat… or a temptation. She turned and searched for the person who’d yelled at her. There was no one in sight. Had she imagined it? No. It had been loud, like someone was standing close to her. She couldn’t have imagined it. Yet there wasn’t anybody else out there with her. She searched up and down the cliff but she was alone. How? Why?
