by Celia Crown
Any skin on her is a temptation for me to touch her.
“Sunny!”
Her voice becomes louder as she jerks up from my lap. This is the first time in five days she has had any big movements.
My arm shoots out when her balance changes and she’s falling backward. I loop my arm around her waist and press her back to my chest as she whines in pain.
Her eyes are shut and wincing with heavy breathing, her chest rises and falls rapidly. Her smaller body sinks deeper into me, and I maneuver her to a sitting position. Tabby doesn’t need to lay down anymore since she has been doing that for the past couple of days.
She’s going to have bed sores if she continues, and she isn’t going to like it when she feels it later once her body goes back to normal.
“Ow…” she huffs, opening her eyes to slam them closed again at the bright light above her.
Her head tips back more on my shoulder. She grunts softly while flexing her fingers in her lap.
“How are you feeling?” I ask in her ear, keeping my voice quiet to not rouse another headache from her.
“Like I have been sinning and am in need of holy water,” she says, her voice cracking and raspy.
I chuckle and pat the side of her waist to let her know that she is not hearing her bed talk, nor is she hallucinating about my body heat.
She woke up on her second night, terrified that I was a demon ready to take her soul, and she begged me to give her more time because she didn’t want me to get sick. Her fever burned so much that her mind is scrambled into all different kinds of directions, and it’s endearing to witness her disheveled behavior.
“Sit up. I’ll get you some water,” I say as I move her so her back is on the cushion of the couch.
She didn’t make it to the bed. Her sleep is better when she is on the couch with her head on my thigh. I didn’t even try to reason it in my head. I just think that she wants physical contact, and she wanted to feel me even in her sleep.
I give her comfort and support.
That is very narcissistic of me, but I want to keep that thought in my head a little bit longer.
“Here,” I come back with a cup of cool water and hand it to her.
Her amber eyes peel open, and she groans. She tips her head back, and I patiently wait for her to lift her hand to hold the glass. Keeping my hand under the glass, I watch her slowly take it to her lips.
Her throat bobs for the water to slide down and I take it away once she’s done. There is not a drop that lingers, and her thirst continues for a moment as she coughs.
“More?” I offer.
She shakes her head, blinking at me while stretching her legs by extending them out. The blanket falls from her shoulders. Her toes peek out from the edge of the blanket, and she wiggles them.
Tabby yawns behind her hand, “No, my tummy is full.”
Disoriented Tabby is uncomplicated Tabby, but I love everything about her. She doesn’t have to put on her big girl pants. She can be the young girl that never really had the chance to experience life before she was isolated in space.
I kneel in front of the couch, letting her feet remain propped on my thighs as I run a hand up her bare legs above the blanket. She squirms with a sigh, moaning when I massage her tender muscles. Being bedridden for days is harsh for her body, and she just recovered from being descended onto Earth after being in space.
I should have predicted this. Not a lot of people come out of the space-stimulated chamber alright. Most of them have severe side effects, and their blood pressure either goes too high or too low.
Tabby’s system is still trying to get used to the Earth’s atmosphere, and her immune system got attacked by the accumulating bacteria that are new in the air. She hadn’t had the time like the people on Earth to slowly get used to the bacteria in the air because Tabby went from the recycled air in the space shuttle to a burst of bacteria and viruses on solid ground.
“What happened?” she grunts, pressing the back of her hand to her forehead.
She cringes and takes her hand away to scrutinize the sweat that has collected on her skin, “Oh goodness, I’m gross.”
“I can draw up a bath, Tabby,” I offer while taking her ankle in my hand to rotate it.
Her sigh of appreciation has me putting pressure on her joints to stretch her ligaments.
“And sit in my own filth?” she cringes with a smile.
“I can make you filthy,” I shoot back with a twitch of my lips. “It’s good exercise too.”
“That wouldn’t be professional, Doctor.”
“We are past professionalism, Tabby,” my heart thumps loudly with the blood rushing to my ears.
“You know what I want.”
She squints her eyes; her tongue slips out between her pearly whites, the slant of her smile punches me in the guts, and my love for her swells intensely in my chest.
“I’m too old for you,” she pokes my wrist with her toe as I tighten my fingers around her ankle.
“I’m too old for you,” I correct briefly to watch a flicker of emotion cross her face. “I’m thirty-eight now, and you’re still twenty-two.”
“Biologically,” she cocks her head to the side; the soft strands of her brown hair cascading over her small shoulder.
“I can’t believe I’m saying this. I’m breaking the universal rule for women,” Tabby sighs with a hint of humor in her melodic voice.
“I’m technically fifty-two.” As soon as those words fall from her lips, her face warps into a cringe, and regret fills her pretty amber eyes.
“Chronologically,” she adds hastily, “Remember, time in space is different than Earth.”
My stomach quivers with a laugh, “I know. I have been keeping up with time.”
“Keeping up with time?” her eyebrows curl in question at my odd choice of words.
“I counted how many years you were gone, and I counted when you would be coming back,” the explanation would warrant a police call if she isn’t Tabby, but she thinks before her body does the action that corresponds with her thoughts.
“Are you ever going to tell me how you know me?”
She says it as if she doesn’t know me at all, and in a way, she doesn’t. Tabby knows me, but the memories are in the back of her mind. The child, Adrian, looks and acts differently than the older Adrian. I don’t blame her for not making the connection even though I have given her so many hints.
“I can’t do all the work for you,” I tease, but my tone is serious with admiration in it when she narrows her eyes with determination.
She didn’t give up after a week, and I’m surprised she lasted four weeks. That is close to a month’s time, and I really shouldn’t be surprised at all. Tabby doesn’t give up and back down on a challenge.
She faces it directly with her heart set out to conquer the difficulty, and she would be a great prosecutor if her interests were in law. She’s a shark in open water, and only those who are fools would try to go up against Tabby if she becomes a prosecutor.
Crime rate probably would go down because they don’t want to be caught, or criminals would be smarter, so they don’t get the thrown into a trail that nails their ass to life imprisonment.
Speaking of mysteries, I bring up the word that had jerked her awake. “Who is Sunny?”
“Sunny?” she raises an eyebrow; her face tightens in perplexity, and she stops fiddling with the fraying edge of the blanket.
She has already plucked some of the loose strings out, and they fall messily around her when she would move in her sleep. It would be lovely if they were white and she would resemble an angel, but then I remember the blanket is a hideous green and red.
Tabby defends her precious blanket because it was a Christmas gift from her supervisor when Christmas passed, and the next one wouldn’t be here until months later.
“You practically threw yourself up and screamed ‘Sunny,’” I explain plainly with a chuckle.
“I didn’t scream,” Tabby s
cowls with a frown, cheeks turning red as she sniffs away her blush.
“The alarms would have sounded if I screamed. Precaution or whatever, the system is built from a smart computer that recognizes the distress in my vocal cords.”
“You don’t have to explain,” I cough to cover up another laugh, “You need to change the baselines. This place hasn’t been cleaned since the last president’s first term; there are creatures in those unapproachable corners.”
I jab a thumb behind me to the corner where she had pushed all her books and other documents to the side, but she doesn’t file them in a neat fashion for easy access since she says she might still need them later.
Not once did I see her touch those piles forgotten in the corners.
Organized chaos is what she calls them, but in my eyes, they are a hindrance, and I want to burn them. The level of disorganization would make a hoarder proud because she doesn’t throw away anything, nor does she shred the files for confidentiality’s sake.
“There are no bugs,” she says with adamancy as if she is trying to convince herself that her office is the cleanest place that ever existed in history.
“This is cleaner than a level five biohazard lab.”
Deep down in her heart, she and I know that this place is dirty, and it needs to be cleaned with lab-grade cleaner to get rid of stains that might have gotten a chance to seep into the flooring.
“Tabby, who is Sunny?” I ask again, reminding myself not to get off-topic.
It must be important enough to have her jerking out from her dream with that name plastered on her lips more than once.
I shouldn’t feel any jealousy, but I want to know who this Sunny fellow is and decide if I need to destroy my competition. Although I don’t see anyone as competition for Tabby’s affection, I am confident that I can have her to myself with a snap of my finger.
She’s warming up to me, and if I keep this up, I will have her, and she won’t ever think about leaving me.
“I don’t know,” she says, tapping her chin with her finger as her amber eyes turn up to the ceiling behind me.
She thinks for several seconds, “I don’t know anyone named Sunny.”
“You know me, but you don’t remember it,” I remark with a grouchy glare, but I’m saying it to point out that there is a chance she does know or at least met someone named Sunny and not remember.
“I don’t even know if I know you,” she crinkles her nose, “How do I know this isn’t a practical joke you’re doing?”
“You’re right,” I say with a nod, “You don’t know if this is a joke, but do you trust me?”
She nods without hesitation; it’s firm and quick without a second thought. The natural response to my question makes me much more satisfied with the progress I’m making with her.
“Then trust me when I say that I never joke when it comes to you.”
Tabby’s neck ripples as she swallows. Her big, amber eyes gaze into my dark eyes as she understands every word that I’m saying. I need her to give me a confirmation; it would solidify the truth that she and I know each other, and our connection goes beyond time and age difference.
It’s a confusing thing to think about; it was an older woman and a young boy, and now it’s a young woman with an older man.
It does not matter. I am still Adrian Shafer, and she is still Tabby Sterling.
A pure soul and a star, she shines brighter and stronger than everyone around her, drawing attention to her and being admired for the changes that help mankind to be better. Not a single person on Earth can beat my Tabby, my star that never burns out and never gives up on being the most sought-after star.
“Okay,” she licks her bottom lip, breathless and soft. “I trust you.”
“Now, think hard. Who is Sunny?” I push her, searching for her face and kneading her ankle.
Her lips part as noises tumble out. The frustration in her curled eyebrows and downward lips becomes stronger as the clock ticks on.
“I really don’t know,” she groans, smacking her head back at the couch. “It sounds familiar, but I can’t put my finger on it.”
She shrugs as if it’s not a big deal, “It’s probably not important if I don’t remember it.”
“Are you saying I’m not important?” I glower, tilting my body forward as I extend my body over hers.
The shadow created by my bigger body blocks the harsh lights from the ceiling, “Think very carefully of what you will say next.”
There is not a chance I’m going to let this drop or let her sweep it under the rug. I am forcing her to say what she means even if it might hurt me.
“You’re different,” she puts a hand flat on my chest as a pathetic attempt to stop me from hovering over her.
“You’re Adrian, and I know I have seen you somewhere.”
It’s a good start, but it’s not enough.
“You say Sunny is familiar, but they aren’t important?” I bite out roughly, growling as her lashes flutter.
“Wait, wait a minute,” she huffs and glares up at me with swirling molten gold in her eyes.
I don’t wait, “You know me. I am not a passing fancy you met somewhere. We spent time together.”
She stops struggling to push me away, and her eyes widen with a look of a deer in headlights. I can practically hear the wheels churning in her head as she stares at me with apprehension. It’s the same look when she is trying to dissect a complex equation.
I am the equation that she is contemplating lightly with every little, patient cell in her body.
She is learning about me.
“Now that you mention it,” she begins with a breath, “I did have a feeling that we had a connection, but I wasn’t sure, so I ignored it.”
“Don’t ignore anything you feel for me,” I cup her cheek, rubbing her flushed cheek with my thumb as she blinks to clear the sleepiness from her eyes.
“I don’t know how to explain it, but you understand me more than anyone in my life, and I want to say that I understand you too. However, I truly do not recall any memory of meeting you.”
I nod in consideration to the unconventional time difference, “It’s been thirty years.”
She gasps, “You remember me from thirty years ago?”
“I never forgot you, not even if my life depended on it,” I lightly pinch her cheek in the same style she would do to me when I was a child with chubby cheeks.
Tabby collects herself and the strength in her eyes burns bright, “Then I won’t disappoint you.”
I raise an eyebrow at her declaration.
“I will remember you, Doctor Adrian Shafer.”
My chest explodes with happiness. The thrill courses through my blood as my lips crack in a wide smile.
“I will be waiting.”
Chapter Seven
Tabby
The name Sunny nags me for the rest of the day, and I stayed in the shower for far longer than I anticipated. I just stood there thinking and wracking my brain to come up with the explanation as to why the name triggers this feeling in me.
I know I have heard it or seen it before, but I have so many things on my mind that I’m used to forgetting names. I’m not doing it on purpose. I just don’t remember names for the life of me, and it’s something I have been dealing with for all my life.
I make it work. I memorize people’s names with something on their bodies for better association. When I truly can’t remember, I call them by their title as a sign of respect instead of butchering their names.
“Sunny, Sunny, Sunny…” I mumble into my cup of freshly made hot chocolate.
Adrian’s hand brushes my dried hair, “Still can’t remember?”
I sip the hot beverage and the flavor of rich chocolate coats my tongue, “No. If it isn’t someone’s name, then I should be able to remember it.”
“You don’t think it’s someone?” his hand drops to my waist with the flow of my brown hair.
The kneading into my muscles around my hi
p brings me closer to him as my shoulder meets his chest. His breath fans the top of my head. The mint from his mouthwash whiffs into my nose that mingles with the chocolate smell.
I bring the mug to my lips again and drink the sweet content. I hope it sparks an idea into my head with the extra energy. My fever is almost gone, but I’m still feeling a tad bit fatigued from sleeping too much and having my body battle the fever.
Maybe it isn’t just Sunny; the name can be a derivative from a different name and my brain just did something funny to it.
Sunnyside, California, Solar Orb, Sunshine Sky Clothing.
Names of places, brands, and companies don’t pull any information from the back of my head. If I try harder, I might be able to finesse my brain into thinking this is a life or death situation, and it needs to remember to save me.
I tried it, and it didn’t work. I might have regressed several steps because I couldn’t remember the names that I had thought of just mere seconds ago.
“Take a break, Tabby,” Adrian dips his head and kisses my temple, “You don’t get anywhere when you’re stressed.”
“Can’t,” my voice is clipped and upset. I’m getting angry at myself for not being able to remember, “It’s bothering me.”
I won’t get any sleep tonight if I don’t figure out who or what the heck Sunny is.
Could it be the weather?
That sounds more ridiculous than I thought. I don’t even know what Sunny has to do with anything. It’s not a connection to anything, but it’s bouncing around my head like a pinball.
There could be thousands of places that are sunny right now, and even more in the past who knows how many years. I’m sure there are roads that have the name Sunny in it—
Oh my god.
I slam the half-empty cup of hot chocolate down on the table and wrench myself out of Adrian’s arm. Stumbling over scattered books and loose papers, I find my phone, and it takes me two tries to use my fingerprint to unlock it.
A technological invention that still shocks me.
My fingers are so frantic that I’m clicking on the wrong apps, and I’m scared that the sudden thought would escape me if I don’t hurry up or else a distraction would take my mind off it. I can’t afford that. This is a big breakthrough, and it has something to do with the meteor that’s most likely going to be our death.
