by Aria Ford
It was a Sunday, which was probably a silly day for a trip to town, since a lot wouldn’t be open. But I was needing some basic supplies and if nothing else I could get them from the gas station on my way back. Coffee. Cereal. Toothpaste.
I finished my mental list as I shrugged on a light jacket and headed into the morning air. Then I was driving down the dusty road to Orangehill farm.
At the place, I drove up the drive. Nobody there.
At least, no car was ahead of me and the curtains were mostly shut. The place had that odd, deserted feel that only an empty house has. I went to the front door and knocked, but no one answered.
Not back yet.
That could only mean that her grandpa was still in the hospital. Keeping hold of the narrow hope that she’d be visiting at this time, I put my foot on the gas and headed into town.
I bought my supplies and then headed round to the hospital. I knew it would be more polite to get hold of Kelly rather than just turn up at what might be an awkward time, but I had a feeling she wouldn’t answer my calls or messages. I didn’t have much choice. I jumped out of the truck and headed to the door.
In the hospital foyer, I stopped abruptly. How was I going to ask to see someone when I didn’t even know them?
“Can I help you?” A pretty redhead behind the reception desk asked. I tried not to think about Kelly.
“Um, I guess. I’m here to visit my neighbor. If he’s still in?” I frowned.
“Okay, sir. And your name is?”
“Uh…Reese Bradford.”
“Okay…and your neighbor is?”
“Mister…” I met a blank. What was Kelly’s Grandpa called? I had no idea. This was going to be tricky. “Um…you know what?”
“No,” she said bluntly. I gave a sheepish laugh.
“My mind just went blank,” I said. I saw her give me a weird look and I knew she thought I was either crazy or here for some bad reason. I didn’t blame her.
“Well, how about you go outside and see if it comes back to you?” She said stiffly. I nodded.
“Good idea.”
I was outside on the front step, trying to think and hoping against hope that the secretary hadn’t decided to call hospital security, when I heard someone come through the door behind me.
Whoever it was drew in a breath.
I turned around.
“Reese!”
“Kelly.”
We looked at each other. She stared and abruptly covered her face, then turned around and went back inside again.
“Kells, what?” I said desperately. I went back in again. By now the secretary definitely thought I was odd. I was following a woman who was crying and doing her best to ignore me; a woman who had just walked out seeming completely calm.
“Reese,” she said, her hands over her face. She sank down into a chair near the reception desk. Luckily for us she was the only person there. She kept her hands where they were and didn’t so much as glance at me. “Go away?”
She sounded pleading more than cross. I sighed.
“Only if you tell me what’s happening.”
She drew in a long, unsteady breath. Then another. And another. Looked at me.
“Reese,” she sighed. “It’s complicated. Grandpa has just had surgery. He’s awake but very weak and achy. I don’t…I can’t know if he’ll make it. And…”
“And what?” I asked.
She glared at me. “And as if that isn’t bad enough!” she said. She sobbed. I felt stupid.
“He’ll get better,” I said awkwardly. She didn’t look at me. When she did, it was an icy glare.
“You know about open heart surgery too, huh?”
“Stop being like that!” I snapped. “You know you’re being stupid, right?” I wanted to shock her out of it. I felt uncomfortable with the tears. Didn’t know how to handle them. I treated her tears the way I treated my own. With rejection and contempt.
She glared at me. Glanced at the secretary. She was fortunately looking at the desk, seemingly oblivious to everything going on between us. Even so, I inclined my head toward the door.
“Shall we?” I asked. She nodded.
Outside in the car park, she rounded on me.
“How dare you come in here and try and make me feel stupid? I’m sad. My grandpa was a big part of my childhood…he was the only constant in a pretty crazy world. And now he’s dying. What do you think I should do? Sing the Hallelujah Chorus?”
I looked at my feet. Said nothing. She was right. I could see that. But it wasn’t my fault I had no experience of dealing with emotions. In my world, you either went numb or you pretended you had.
She sighed. “Reese, it’s not you,” she said sadly. “I’m just…it’s a big thing.”
“I get that,” I said slowly. “But I do wish I could help.”
“I wish someone could help,” she said. “But what can anyone do?”
“Nothing.”
We stood there in silence for a while. I cleared my throat.
“If there is something I can do,” I said awkwardly, “please tell me. I would like to do something.”
Kelly was quiet for a while. I looked at her and realized her shoulders were shaking. She was crying.
“Kelly!” I didn’t think about what to do just then. I did what felt right. I held her in my arms and stood with her until she sniffed, the crying stopped.
She looked up at me and I looked down at her. My lips moved, very tenderly, to hers. We stood like that, arm in arm, on the steps of the hospital while the rain came down softly on the parked cars and the awning, making whispers as it ran down the gutters up above.
I smiled into her eyes and she looked and sniffed.
“Take me home, Reese?”
I nodded. “Let’s go home.”
CHAPTER NINETEEN
Kelly
I drove my car back to the farm and Reese went ahead, driving his pickup. When we arrived he jumped out first and ran in with a bag of supplies. I followed, more slowly. I felt drained. I also felt revitalized.
I was so pleased to see Reese again.
He appeared at the door a moment later and let me in. He looked breathless, and I realized, when I smelled furniture polish, that he’d quickly been tidying up. I grinned to myself. We went through to the kitchen. Sat down.
“I know I didn’t seem it,” I said slowly, “but I’m glad to see you.”
He gave a small laugh. “Well, I’m pleased to see you too. I was worried for you.”
“You were?” I felt touched.
“Mm.” He nodded. He was busy with the kettle, making us both coffee. I sighed, appreciating it.
“Well, I’m okay,” I sniffed. “Stressed, but okay.”
“That’s good.” He was setting out the cups, focusing on what he was doing. I envied him that focus as I twitched in my seat, making little patterns on the salt on the table with my finger.
It was odd to be sitting here. It felt like so much had happened since I was last here, though it was really only twenty-four hours earlier.
My grandfather had an emergency operation. I packed up. Reese came to see me.
Reese.
I sighed. After a moment I just sat back, letting my eyes take in everything. Soon I would be in LA. Reese would be a distant memory. I wanted to imprint him on my consciousness, to take every tiny detail back.
The way his hair curls over his forehead. His clean-cut cheekbones. His lithe-muscled body.
I sighed. How many tiny details made up one person? Sound, sight. Smell. There were too many routes for a person to captivate one.
How was I going to walk away?
“Here,” he said. He put the coffee down in front of me and I lifted it, breathing in the delicious smell. I sighed.
“Thanks, Reese.”
“Not at all,” he said. He lifted his own coffee and drank. He seemed as distant as I was, as if he was also wandering in a place of sad thoughts.
I cleared my throat. “Thanks for
coming to visit,” I said with a half-smile.
He laughed. “I almost got myself arrested there,” he said. “I have a tip: if you’re going to have to sneak into a hospital to see someone, make sure you know the person’s name.”
I felt my lips tremble with mirth and then started laughing. It was a good laugh, big and cleansing.
He joined in and soon we were both at it, chuckling with our faces streaked with tears and our shoulders shaking with humor. It wasn’t funny, not exactly. It was the relief that made us laugh. It felt good. I was coughing when I stopped.
“What…what did she do?” I choked.
“Well, luckily, nothing,” he said frankly. “Though I really thought she’d call the cops or something.”
“A good thing too,” I said. “Imagine, you could have been anyone!”
We both laughed again and I shook my head, grinning at him.
“Thank you for risking arrest to see me. I’m really glad you did.”
“I am too,” he said softly. His eyes met mine, and those warm depths ate into me like flame will, gnawing at my soul with hungering fingers.
I nodded.
We stood and went very softly to the bedroom.
On the bed, we made love with a sweetness and slowness that made my whole body awake. I felt cherished and warm and safe in a way I had never felt.
After, when I lay in his arms, my hand on his shoulder, feeling the way it rose and fell with his breathing, I sighed.
“Reese?”
“Yes?”
“I…” I paused. “Reese, I’m leaving tomorrow.”
“What?” he shifted so he could see into my eyes. He looked horrified and then his face cleared. “I mean…I know I knew you’d go. But…tomorrow?”
I inclined my head. Moved so I lay closer to him. I hated thinking about it too. I didn’t want to leave. I wanted to stay here.
He sighed. His arms enfolded me. He waited a long time, before he spoke. Then: “I know that I shouldn’t say it. But I want you to stay here.”
I sighed. “I need to pay the hotel in the morning,” I said. “I should go now. Or round suppertime, anyway.”
He nodded. His eyes were big and wide and hurt and for the first time it occurred to me that he might feel as I did.
I kissed him, my heart aching with care for him.
“I can’t stay here,” I said gently. “Thanks for the invitation.”
He chuckled and drew me to him and his lips found mine. I pressed my body against him and felt how his tender, probing kiss sent waves of longing through my body. I wished I could stay with him. I wished I couldn’t leave. As we kissed, our hands ran down each other and I found myself ready.
He rolled over and we felt a new urgency between us as we made love with a frenzied abandon, again and again.
It was already dark when I finally kissed him and left.
I drove back with his last words to me echoing in my mind.
“You know what I feel about you, Kelly.”
I sighed. I didn’t know. I had answered, “I know what I feel about you.”
As I drove with my eyesight blurring with tears, I realized that wasn’t entirely true. I didn’t really understand what I felt for Reese. I doubted I ever would. All I knew was that it was big and beautiful and true.
I wished so many things. I wished that I could walk away from the city and stay. I wished I knew if Reese was ready for that. I wished I could make Grandpa get better and come and visit more regularly. And I even wanted to see the beautiful, starry sky again.
I went up to my hotel and settled the account at the front desk. I explained I’d be leaving before six am and paid my bills. Then I headed upstairs.
I lay down on my bed and cried.
I wanted so much for this time to go on and on.
CHAPTER TWENTY
Kelly
I arrived, exhausted and drained, at my apartment at round about five in the evening. I was tired and dirty and desperately confused.
I unlocked the door, letting out the scent of floor cleaner, and hauled my suitcases through the door. Then I waddled to the bed, suitcases clutched to my body, and set them on the floor. I lay down.
I don’t know if I’ve ever felt this drained.
My eyes closed, I let my body sink into the mattress and tried to figure out what the hell was wrong with me. My head hurt and my back hurt and my one leg was still cramping after having gone to sleep on the flight. But it wasn’t those things that I meant.
My heart is sore.
I sat up, sniffing hard. I was not going to go there. Reese wasn’t going to pop into my mind anymore.
I strode through to the kitchen and made myself coffee. Then I sat down at my clean, white, classy table and flipped through a clean, stark, classy magazine.
Somehow, the life portrayed in the pages, that would have been glamorous and something to covet, now seemed colorless.
I looked out of the window. The sky was cloudy, the first streetlamps throwing their yellowing haze into the clouds. I saw no stars.
I missed the big sky. The silence, rich with crickets singing. The peace.
“Oh, for heaven’s sake.”
I stood and went through to my sitting room. Oddly, my nice furniture and my potted cactus were good company. I had missed the finer things in life while I was out there, I reminded myself. Grandpa’s house, while beautiful and peaceful, did rather lack for plush leather couches and glass occasional tables.
My phone rang as I sat there with my mug. I set it down and reached for the phone, answering quickly.
“Miller!”
“Hi, Kell. You’re back, yeah?”
“Uh-huh.” I smiled, feeling relieved at the friendly human voice.
“Great. How’d the flight go?” she wanted to know.
I chuckled. “My foot’s still cramped.”
She laughed. “It’s always a problem. Well, at least you’re home now. Want to join me for dinner?”
I considered it. Shook my head. “It’d be great. But I’m too tired.”
“Okay,” she said. She paused. “I want to hear all about the trip when you visit tomorrow.”
I sighed. “I’ll do my best.”
“Okay,” she replied. “Well, I don’t want to tire you out. It’ll be nice to see you at work tomorrow. We can have coffee then.”
“Great,” I replied.
We chatted a bit more and hung up. It was seven o’ clock. I decided to make some dinner and then think about what I was going to do at work tomorrow. I had a mountain of email correspondences to answer and some forms to complete before I even started.
I’ll do those now. Don’t think about it.
I made dinner, ate it. Went through to my room and switched on my laptop, answering mails.
At ten o’ clock I went to bed and woke up at seven-thirty, ready for work.
I spent most of the morning at work in a hazy state. I did the things I had to, said hello to my boss who said he was pleased to have me back. Did the paperwork.
At coffee-break, I met with Miller.
“Kell!” She embraced me enthusiastically. “You look amazing! Wow! I think I’ll go up there for my next vacation, if that’s what it does for one.”
I laughed. “Thanks, Miller. Good to see you.”
We sat and chatted for a while, catching up on the local news. My thoughts were distracted from my own worries and I felt better, listening to the gossip about our fellow employees.
“And did you hear? Pearl is going to have a baby!”
Pearl was one of the lawyers; a pretty and softly-spoken woman we both liked.
“Oh, wow!” I enthused. “That’s so exciting! When’s the birthday?”
“Um, I don’t know. November, probably.”
“Oh, wow!” I said again. “That’s great. We have plans to buy her something?”
“I don’t know,” Miller supplied. “We should. Let’s start collecting. I’m thinking maybe a pram?”
“I dunno,” I said, frowning. “They might have plans about that—you know, people can be fussy. Has she made a gift registry?”
“Maybe,” Miller nodded. “Let’s check.”
We talked for a while longer and then Miller saw the time. She jumped up.
“Oh! Heck! Sorry, Kell. Meeting just now. Gotta go.”
“Okay,” I called after her rapidly-retreating form. “See you sometime.”
I was thinking over the conversation as I drove home, spending the time stuck in traffic planning a gift for our expectant mom, when it hit me.
I really should have had that period by now. Fine, it was only four days overdue, three days if I allowed for the impact of travel and a bit of natural uncertainty. But four?
This talk about babies was getting to me. I wondered if I shouldn’t check. I have taken the Pill for a few years now, but with all the traveling, it was possible that I forgot. I do it so automatically that it’s rare I check what day it is.
