He looked up at me, his eyes a little lost. And the crack, the one that had started earlier that morning at his indifference towards me, broke a little more. I didn’t think there was anything left to break.
I grabbed the toiletries and returned to the bathroom, seeing him look wearier. Minute by minute, he was fading. So I turned on the water and waited for it to get hot enough, and then I helped him into the shower with me.
The water seemed to rouse him a bit and we took turns shampooing each other’s hair. I loaded a loofa up with his body wash and started first on his back. “Will you tell me about your tattoos?” I asked, rubbing the loofa over each of his muscles. My hand traced the tree with its twisted branches that wrapped around his lower torso.
“The tree was something I got shortly after I was in remission. The roots are straight, because that’s how we all start out in life. All babies are innocent. Your roots are straight. And then once you first loose some of that innocence, when you emerge through the earth, you are changed. For a tree, nature changes how it forms as it grows. Are there things in the way, does it have to grow around obstacles? Does weather strip it of its leaves in the winter? Do outside factors, like birds and squirrels, destroy the bark? Humans are very similar. Once we lose our innocence, there’s no way to predict the future, how your branches will grow. You have to go with the flow until you’re cut down.”
It hurt to swallow the lump in my throat. “Turn around,” I said, standing under the spray. He turned so I was facing his chest. “These?” I asked, running the loofa and then my fingers over the four swallows on the other side of his ribs.
“The people who matter the most to me. My mom, dad, sister, and nephew. I want them to be free.” My eyes burned. He didn’t have to say what he wanted them to be free of. I already knew.
I knew I shouldn’t, but I continued. I ran the loofa up over his chest, up his bicep to the three straight lines that wrapped his right bicep. I didn’t trust my voice so I looked up at him, trying to communicate my thoughts through my eyes.
“Those are how many times I’ve been told I have cancer. This line,” he said, pointing to the line at the bottom of the stack, “was added a couple weeks ago.”
“Three times.”
“I had cancer twice in my teenage years. The first time, it was caught early and required little treatment. The second time,” he said, touching the middle line, “was when my family fell apart.” He let his hand drop and looked at me. “Three strikes,” he said.
I was glad I was standing directly under the spray, because I didn’t want him to witness the tear that slid quickly from my eye, mixing with the water from the showerhead. I couldn’t explain it. It was more than sadness I felt. Something deeper, more poignant.
“If you want to wear all black, I won’t mind. We can strike it from the rules.”
Everett looked down at me. “Where did that come from?”
I shrugged. “You’re the man in black. If you want to wear black, I want you to.” My leg bounced nervously.
“The man in black?” he asked. “Like Johnny Cash?”
My leg stopped its movements. “Who’s that?”
Everett shook his head. “You really have a lot of life to catch up on, sweetheart.” Before I had time to process the ache I felt at that endearment, Everett tapped the quote tattooed on his chest. “Take this for example. It’s from a song.”
“’This world has only one sweet moment set aside for us’ is from a song?”
He nodded. “It’s by Queen. Who is probably another band you haven’t been acquainted with, so before you open your mouth, I’ll just tell you they are a rock band that formed in the 70’s. This line,” he said, running his fingers over the soapy skin of his tattoo, “is from a song called Who Wants to Live Forever.”
“Sounds like a really uplifting song,” I replied drily.
Everett laughed, took the loofa from me and rinsed it, before trading places with me in the shower. After pouring some body wash onto the loofa, he started rubbing it on my chest.
“This still smells like your body wash,” I said, understanding now why he always had the scent of cool water.
“Because it is. I want to smell this on your skin.” He rubbed the loofa down the front of my body before having me turn around. After running the loofa over my back, I felt his hands replace it and his fingers pushed into my shoulder and down my back, massaging the muscles there. My head fell back.
“That feels good,” I felt the words vibrate from my throat.
“Does it hurt?” he asked.
“Only a little, but it also feels good.”
“There’s pleasure in a little pain then.”
I opened my eyes and straightened my head. “I guess so.”
“There is, Parker.” He wrapped his arms around my front and rubbed the body wash over me again. “You just have to be brave enough to endure it.”
Chapter Nineteen
After Everett fell asleep, I was left wide awake. Thoughts from our day wouldn’t leave my brain. Our moment at the Purgatoire River and then again when I fell in it. And what Everett had said while admiring the dinosaur tracks, about leaving his mark on the earth somewhere.
Quickly, I pulled out my laptop and made a few calls, making an appointment for the following morning. Everett breathed heavily next to me the entire time, not stirring once, so I was able to make our plans without interruption.
After the excitement, I put my laptop away and crawled back into bed beside Everett. I watched him breathing deeply before I laid my head on his bicep. Like he had the first time I did it, he pulled his arm towards his body, pulling me in with him.
I let Everett sleep in the following morning. Though he was normally awake before I was, I knew he’d been exhausted the day before so I packed our things as quietly as possible, to keep him in his deep, peaceful sleep.
I brought food up from the continental breakfast in the lobby, and brewed a pot of coffee in the tiny hotel coffee maker.
It was the coffee that finally roused him. I watched him from the chair opposite the bed, watched his arms stretch above his head as he looked around. When his eyes found me, he settled back in the pillow, seemingly relieved. I got up from the chair and poured the milk I’d grabbed from the breakfast buffet in the cup before climbing on to the bed. “Here,” I said, handing him the mug.
Everett sat up and took the mug from me, drinking. “Thank you,” he said, his eyes never leaving mine.
“How do you feel?”
Everett set the coffee down. “I’m fine, Parker. Okay?” There was mild annoyance in his tone. I knew why. So I didn’t push him.
“Okay. I have plans for us before we see your family.”
“What’s that?”
“I want to get a tattoo today.”
Everett shook his head. “Are you serious?”
“Dead serious.”
He laughed at my word choice. “If you’re getting a tattoo, I’m getting a tattoo.”
It was what I’d hoped he’d say. “So we’ll both get tattoos,” I said, biting my lip.
“Yeah.” He sat up straighter in the bed. “And you’ll be the last one to see mine.”
I pushed him. Not hard, but enough for him to spill coffee all over the bed and himself. He looked down at the coffee-soaked sheets and then looked back at me.
Before I knew what was happening, he grabbed me and pulled me on top of him, smearing my clothes with his coffee mess.
“Kiss me, Parker.” I pecked him on the lips. “You can do better than that.” I pushed my lips to his again, trying to wriggle out of his arms. “Kiss me with feeling,” his said, bringing a hand up to my cheek, cradling my face in his hand.
“But I don’t know what I’m feeling,” I breathed.
“You don’t have to. Whatever it is, let it come from your lips to mine.”
My heart pounded painfully in my chest. But I did as he asked. I let my lips hover over his for a moment before changing cour
se and kissing up the side of his face. I kissed his ear first, letting out a breath after that kiss and then moved up his temple. My hands pushed the hair away from his forehead and I hesitated for only a beat before my lips pressed to the small dent in his forehead. And then I kissed along his scar. I felt his breath shudder against my throat. I kissed down the center of his forehead, slowly, until I reached his eyes. They were closed, so I kissed each eyelid gently before moving down his face, placing a kiss on his cheek, the tip of his nose, his chin and then down his chest.
I tasted coffee on his chest, but I didn’t stop kissing the trail across his body. My lips pressed to the skin that concealed his heart, and I felt thankfulness at its steady beat to my lips. I kissed the tattoo that had words and then down the trunk of the tree. I kissed across his abdomen and then over the sparrows on the other side.
When I reached his bicep, my breath was coming in shattered. Partly because of the desire I felt whenever I was in his presence, but overwhelmingly because of the feeling of kissing all the broken and the perfect parts of Everett, with all the feeling that I held for him.
I kissed each one of the lines on his bicep before resting my forehead on his shoulder, overcome with whatever this feeling was that I had for him.
His hands were cupping my jaw and pulling me up. His clear blue eyes stared into mine for a minute, and then he pulled me down and kissed me, gently, softly. Each of his kisses so far had been different and this was no exception. It was a healing kiss. Healing the parts of me that hurt with how he made me feel.
I pulled away and let my head rest on his chest, mind-numbingly terrified of the kiss I’d just given to Everett. Terrified of what it meant, what he saw in that kiss. I felt his hand come down to my hair and he brushed it with his fingers.
We laid on the bed, my head on his coffee-covered chest and his fingers in my hair as I tried to wrap my head around what was happening with Everett.
“When did you make the appointments?” he asked, pulling into the tattoo shop just outside of Austin, where his family lived.
“While you were asleep, last night.”
Everett looked happily surprised. And it planted a little seed of happiness in my chest, to know I’d put that on his face. Happiness was truly a weird emotion. It filled your chest with little flutters. It made me nauseated, but I chose to let it come. It wasn’t painful like the other feelings.
Everett climbed out and walked around to grab my hand. “What are you getting tattooed?”
“It’s a secret.”
“Well then mine will be a secret too.” He squeezed my hand not once, not twice, but three times. So I squeezed back three times.
Everett looked down at me and squeezed my hand three times again. Whatever it was, it was intentional. He furrowed his brow for a minute before clearing his features. “You ready?”
“Yes.”
When my tattoo was finished, I walked outside and looked for Everett. When I didn’t see him, I sat on the curb and waited. I decided to text Mira.
Me: Hi.
It was as articulate as I could manage. I tapped my feet on the asphalt as I waited for her reply.
Mira: Hi, mouse. How is Everett?
Me: Fine. His knuckles are just a little bruised.
Mira: He’s good, mouse. He cares about you.
Me: I know.
Mira: I hope you do.
I stewed on that for a minute, a little annoyed. But the door to the tattoo shop opened and Everett stepped out. He’d decided to wear long sleeves and shorts, so I knew that I wouldn’t be able to see where he’d gotten his tattoo. Luckily, mine was hidden as well.
He reached a hand down to me on the curb and pulled me to standing. “What’d you get?” he asked.
“What did you get?”
“Ah,” he said, understanding coming into his eyes. “You’re not going to tell me, until I tell you.”
I nodded.
“You’re going to have to wait then, because I plan on keeping this on lockdown until you get me naked again.”
I chewed on my lip. “Same goes,” I replied.
Everett grinned. “I can’t wait.” He winked and pulled me towards the car. I was struck by how our relationship was developing. Despite the emotional feelings I was collecting for Everett, he still had to pull me, pull them from me. And for some reason, I wanted to be the one pulling him.
“Are we off to meet your parents?”
He nodded. “We’re going to go to a late lunch with my sister and nephew first.”
I continued chewing on my lip. Everett opened the passenger door to the Jeep for me. “You okay?” he asked, stalling on helping me in.
“Yeah,” I said nonchalantly.
“No lying.”
I rolled my eyes.
“I wish I had added ‘no eye rolling’ to the rules right now,” he laughed. “Come on, what’s on your mind, my precious Parker?”
I raised an eyebrow at that. “Precious Parker? Really? That makes me sound like your pet.”
He put an arm around my shoulders and brushed his hand down my hair. “My precious.”
I pushed away from him. “That’s so creepy.” But part of me wanted to smile. A big part. I moved from chewing on my lip to chewing on the inside of my lip.
“Don’t smile, Parker,” Everett said, leaning in to me. “It would look weird on your face.”
I resisted the urge to roll my eyes again. “Why are you being so playful this morning? Where’s my dark, broody Everett?”
He cocked his head to the side. “When did I become yours?” he asked.
I stopped breathing for a second, not realizing until that moment that I’d referred to the Everett I was accustomed to as ‘my Everett’.
“Relax, Parker. Breathe. I was just teasing you. Dark and broody Everett is on a high from getting new ink. Don’t worry; I’m sure he’ll return when we meet my parents for dinner tonight.”
Whatever smile had been teasing my lips left quickly.
“Come on,” he said, gesturing for me to climb into the Jeep. “We have pizza calling our name.” He patted my butt as I climbed into the car so I gave him a sharp look over my shoulder.
He just laughed and climbed into the driver’s seat.
Chapter Twenty
Everett’s sister was pretty. Not the kind of pretty that you’d see on a beauty queen, dolled up with makeup and spray tan. She was tan like her brother, natural, or boosted by the sun. Her black hair was styled simply, long and straight. She had the same eyes as Everett, that unnerving ice blue. But her face looked softer than Everett’s even though she was a few years older.
“Bridget,” she said, her face split open with her bright white smile. She was the kind of person that was so pretty, she was intimidating until she smiled. Her smile was warm, friendly. And there was hope in her eyes. I instantly looked away, uncomfortable by that. I didn’t want to responsible for whatever hope she saw in my presence.
“Parker,” I said, shaking her offered hand and looking at Everett.
“Sit,” she gestured to the opposite side of the booth. I climbed in and Everett slid in next to me. Almost immediately, he grabbed my hand under the table and squeezed. It was reassuring, so I relaxed a little bit.
“So,” Bridget said, her eyes sparkling with excitement. “Everett says you’ve been on a road trip for the last several days?”
“Yeah,” I answered and looked to Everett. “Almost a week?”
Everett shrugged. “Almost.”
“And he’s taken you to some of his favorite places?”
I drew my eyebrows together. “Well, he said he hadn’t been to the Grand Canyon before.”
“He hasn’t.” She took a sip of her soda. “But he said he took you to the Four Corners?”
I looked at Everett. “You’d already been there before?” Something about that bothered me.
Bridget interrupted, “Only with family. And he took you to see the dinosaur tracks?”
I looke
d away from Everett to the table. Part of me was angry. Part of me felt betrayed. I had no right to feel either, but I did. “Yes, we saw the dinosaur tracks and the river.” Bridget nodded, completely oblivious to the unwanted pain I was feeling, knowing he’d lied to me.
Everett squeezed my hand under the table but I needed distance. Not much distance could be achieved when we were so close to one another, but I still wriggled my fingers free from his.
“I didn’t know he’d seen those places before,” I said, still staring down at the table. There was silence between Everett and Bridget and I felt even more uncomfortable. So I shrugged and blurted, “Not that it’s a big deal or anything.” I didn’t dare look at Everett. Something had shifted between us with Bridget’s admission about Everett having been to those places before. And I didn’t want to think about it.
When the waiter brought our drinks and took our orders, nothing else had been said. It was the most uncomfortably awkward silence. And then a boy, about eight or nine years old, bounded up to the table. “Mom, do you have more quarters I can have?”
“Hey bud,” I heard Everett’s voice, but my attention was on the boy.
“Uncle Everett!” he exclaimed, wrapping his arms around Everett’s neck. I couldn’t avoid looking at Everett. His eyes were closed and his arms wrapped around the boy, the boy who looked so much like him that it was uncanny. My chest felt tight with emotion as I watched their reunion.
Everett pulled a handful of quarters from his pocket and poured them in the hand of the little boy. That was when the little boy noticed me, staring at me with his guileless blue eyes. “Hi,” he said, cocking his head to the side, the way Everett did when he was studying me. I ached then.
“Hi,” I croaked. I swallowed. “I’m Parker. What’s your name?”
“Clark,” he answered. “How’d you get your scar?”
I heard Bridget suck in a breath. This was why I liked kids, they said things that made other people uncomfortable. Adults made me uncomfortable, but not kids.
[2014] Ten Below Zero Page 19
