“Well, Grayson, say something .....” She stood there, covered in a fine sheen of sweat, and once more, the right words were going to escape him, only to be replaced with what was actually on his mind. “Charlize, I am not a boastful man nor am I a lustful man,” she knew there was a but coming, “but I am about to put something on you that will make your shit clench up every time I walk in the room.”
Charlize’s mouth dropped; she was shocked at his use of such common language. Before she had a chance to say anything else, he told her, “Don’t look at me like you are shocked at my words. I am a grown-ass man, and I am about to make love to you like a grown man should.”
It did not take Charlize long to realize that the quickie in the woods earlier was a warm up. The last date night he had made it all about her, but tonight, he showed her what he was actually capable of doing. For an hour and fifteen minutes, he slowly, methodically, and rhythmically tortured her body with the promise of release, only to back away and make her wait. Several times during the coupling, she cried out his name begging him to stop the torture. At one point, she had become so verbose, her mother knocked on the door to make sure she was alright. Grayson chose that moment to provide her with the first release, which also answered her mother’s question with a resounding, “Yes, Oh Lord, yes.....yes...yes......!”
Charlize slept soundly during the night and most of the morning. She did not hear him rise. As the first one awake, he started breakfast with bacon slices and baked eggs in the hole. The smell of the cooked food roused the family along with the wonderful scent of fresh coffee. Grayson had packed all of Charlize’s favorite fruits and made a breakfast fruit compote and set it in the middle of the table. As members of the family strolled in, he poured coffee and served each their breakfast with bowls a cereal for the smaller children.
His lady was the last to come to the table, looking thoroughly pleased with rosy cheeks and a sunny disposition. “Morning all,” she said as she took her seat at the table. Grayson placed her breakfast before her, poured her a fresh cup of decaf from his coffee press, and provided her with a halved grapefruit with a cherry in the center. She looked up at him with loving eyes filled with reverence, “thank you Grayson,” and she sank her teeth into on her bottom lip.
“No, Baby,” he said as he leaned down and placed a gentle kiss upon her lips, “thank you.” He poured himself a cup of decaf, sat next to her at the table and placed a small velvet box next to her coffee mug. She smiled as she opened it and saw the sapphire earrings that were the ideal match to the bracelet he gave her last month. She slipped them on her ears and the drops hung perfectly from the lobes. Grayson eyed her closely, “Absolutely flawless.”
And that was how Grayson Broche started winning her heart as something more than just her friend.
Chapter Eleven
THE REMAINDER OF THE weekend at the lake was pretty uneventful. A few jokes were made at Grayson’s expense when he fell asleep on the boat; Uncle Eddie joked that all that racket last night had sapped him of his energy. Frazier Jr. leaned over to check his pulse to make sure he was still alive since he had not moved after his eyes closed. Dr. Filleman did not find it amusing and admonished his little brother for the inappropriate statement. This caused some tension on the boat until Frazier Jr. lightened the mood, by adding, “He followed up that performance with some serious bling! I don’t know about you guys, but I want to wake his ass up and start asking some questions! I ain’t never seen Charlize that demure or that happy.”
Laughter broke out on the boat and even dear old Dad had to chuckle a bit. Charles, who often said little, got in on the joke, “I had to check myself this morning. After all that carrying on, I know somebody should have woke up pregnant. I just wanted to make sure it wasn’t me!” More laughter ensued and Grayson only shifted a bit in the lounge chair.
Dr. Filleman understood the basis of the joke, but he didn’t like the banter at his baby’s expense. “Yeah, but I am not certain if this is going to last. They seem like two people who have tried everything else, and are now trying each other.”
Charles leaned forward and tapped his big brother on the shoulder, “Now, I may just be a simple dentist, but that young man has no intention of going anywhere Fraz. You saw him walk in the door yesterday and tell your grandkids to call him Uncle!” It was true, Grayson had staked his claim and stood toe to toe with him, pretty much letting him know the same thing. It still didn’t mean he had to like it.
Eddie and Frazier Jr. noticed his expression and added to the good doctor’s discomfort, “Dad, when a man makes a woman react like that, it is doubtful if the woman is going to let him go.”
Eddie, like Frazier Jr., who were both doctor of letters and well renown psychologists, only made it worse, “she joined us for breakfast this morning exhibiting no shame; even after she knew everyone in the house heard them last night. Fraz....I hope you like him. He is here to stay.” Dr. Frazier Filleman couldn’t help but feel protective of his oldest daughter.
Charlize was a great deal like him. She was a rather intense soul and letting go was not her thing. She was slow to trust and everything had to be just right with her. He eyed the sleeping man and agreed with his son, the earrings, making breakfast for the family and serving her something different from the rest of the group, was a nice touch. Over the weekend he had watched the young man’s interaction with his family, and no matter what the situation, Grayson never overreacted to anything or showed any outright rejoinder to small disagreements among the siblings, his included. Dr. Filleman would be interested to see the dynamic of Grayson’s family.
Frazier’s twins cornered Grayson at one point and put bows and ribbons in his hair. He allowed it, even took pictures and politely asked Charlize to remove them when it was over. Melea, who was ever jealous of her older sister, located him on the porch as he was enjoying the Saturday evening breeze. She made an off-handed comment that could have been taken in a multitude of ways, but Grayson took the high road, made her think about what she was saying and discharged her, watching her sulk away like a petulant child.
Charlize was the one in for the biggest surprise when on Saturday night, Grayson slept on top of the covers and did not make an attempt to recreate the performance from the night before. She felt horribly disappointed. On the ride back to Atlanta on Sunday afternoon, she danced about the subject but he was forthcoming, “Date night is one night per month which was Friday night. You set the rules, I said I would abide by them.”
She gazed out the window and recounted how many times she had been disappointed in the men she had dated for never being able to follow up their words with actions. Maybe Grayson remembered this as one of her pet peeves and was also forcing her to toe the line on her own words and deeds. His words, although true, stung a bit. Deep down, she secretly wanted him to be so enamored of her, he would break the rules to be with her again. In her heart, she realized she wanted him to love her as more than a friend.
GRAYSON’S VOICE SOUNDED full of worry and anxiety when he phoned her on Thursday morning to cancel their weekly dinner. The cancellation she could handle, the concern in his voice, she could not.
“Pops is in D.C. doing some work with the Judicial Conference, but Mom called and said she wasn’t feeling well. I am headed over there in a few.”
“Grayson, is there anything I can do to help?”
“I didn’t want to ask, but yes, can you meet me there in an hour or so? I am really worried.”
Charlize agreed and started to pack her doctor’s bag with some items she felt she may need, based on the symptoms Grayson relayed over the phone. Dealing with Grayson’s mother was an exam in political correctness. Ayanna Muňoz de Jesus Castana Broche was a woman that novels were written about. She was still an active member of the Georgia Bar Association even though she stopped practicing full time when Grayson was born.
As a Chilean national, she and her parents had moved to the United States when she was a child. A communication mistake
between the doctors and her mother resulted in her mother taking an overdose of medication which took her life. Since that time, Ayanna Broche was mistrusting of doctors. Many arguments had taken place in the household on every medical issue from immunizations to appendicitis. Although the children and father were seen regularly by trusted family physicians, Ayanna refused to see a doctor of any sort. Instead, she grew many of the vegetables the family ate; other produce she traded through a small Atlanta cooperative. She employed holistic practices when she felt unwell, or was a tad bit under the weather. For Grayson to ask for help, Charlize knew something must be really wrong.
She arrived at the Broche family home and was, as always, floored by the beauty of the landscaping that Ayanna personally planted, watered and maintained. She had been a stay-at-home-mom once Jorge, the eldest had been born. Grayson followed Jorge three years later, followed by Brianna who was born two years later and lastly, a year later, the baby, Antonio. No one was at the house when she arrived but Grayson, who answered the door looking very frightened. Charlize placed a calming hand on his chest, and asked to be led to his mother.
“Charlize, how wonderful to see you,” Ayana stood to greet her and right away, the infection could be smelled.
“I came to check on you, Mrs. Broche,” she told her as she encouraged the very ill woman to take a seat.
“You are so sweet Charlize, you know how much I hate doctors and Grayson is trying to take me to the emergency room.”
“Mrs. Broche, then we have a problem; you have just hurt my feelings.”
Face full of concern, Ayana stared at Charlize with the saddest face, “I’m sorry, I did not mean to offend you.”
Charlize knew this was her opportunity to move forward on what needed to be done for his mother, “Well, if you don’t like doctors, then you don’t like me.”
“No, Charlize, I like you just fine.”
“Yes, but do you trust me?”
“Grayson trusts you and I trust my son.”
“Will you allow me to make you feel better and get you well?”
Ayanna stared at her for a few long moments, and felt a wave of nausea wash over her; she wanted to get well. “I trust you Charlize; make me feel better.”
Grayson had been standing in the doorway listening, watching and fretting, but his mother was correct, he trusted Charlie. He trusted her to get through to his mother and figure out what was wrong. Just knowing she was here made him feel better. Charlize knew he had been standing in the doorway watching.
The doorbell rang and before he had a chance to answer it, she gave Grayson a task to handle while she took care of his mom. She asked him to go to the drug store to buy a large bottle of pure betadine and packs of gauze. She wasn’t sure if she would need any of it, but it would keep him busy. At the door was her assistant at the door who came to draw blood and take it to the lab, so Charlize would know if there were any other underlying concerns. It was not as uncommon as one would think that a 62 year old woman had never had a doctor’s appointment. Ayanna’s children had been delivered by a mid-wife who also handled the prenatal care during the pregnancies. This evening, Grayson was relying on her to take care of his mother and she would.
While he was away, she took Ayanna’s temperature, listened to her heart and lungs and started asking a series of questions. It did not take long to discover that a small pimple had formed on Ayanna’s right hip. The pimple was actually a boil that she had attempted to lance, which was now a very ugly, oozing and angry carbuncle.
Ayanna was self-conscious because she had not felt well enough over the past three days to stand in the shower and bathe. Charlize helped her to the bathroom and started the shower. To her amazement, Grayson’s friend helped her wash, carefully dry, and dress in comfy pants so she could work on her hip. Warm cloths were first used on the affected area to prepare it for treatment.
Charlize gloved up, and opened a pack of the sterilized scalpels she had brought with her. Grayson had returned to become her assistant as she used the betadine to swab the area, then made the first incision. The color left from Grayson’s face as the pus and bacteria-filled sore on his mother’s hip was exhausted, cleaned, drained again, and covered. All of the materials that were used were bagged up in a red hazardous material bag, then placed inside another hazardous materials bag along with the sheets, rags, and the gloves.
Charlize changed the bed linens, prepared a bowl of chicken noodle soup, a cup of green tea, and gave her the first round of antibiotics. Ayanna was looking much better, but Charlize wanted to keep a close eye on her in case anything went awry. There had been a few instances when antibiotics reacted violently with homeopathic remedies, and she had no way of telling what Mrs. Broche had been taking; she erred on the side of caution.
Grayson had prepared them a quick dinner of seared scallops with wilted watercress, which she shared with him in the dining room. Ayanna was a vegetarian and did not like meat to be cooked in her kitchen. Often times when meat was served, Grayson’s father would grill outside.
Before Charlize got too lost in her thoughts, she thought she heard Ayanna rustling about upstairs. She immediately went back to check on his mother, who was sleeping soundly. Three hours had passed and Ayanna seemed to be resting comfortably. Charlize looked for Grayson, who was in the kitchen making spinach and strawberry cupcakes.
He looked up to see her standing there, and Charlize noticed his eyes were a bit red. “I am staying the night to keep an eye on her.” He put the spatula down and walked around the counter and embraced Charlize.
“I didn’t want to impose on our friendship by asking you to make a house call; but I didn’t know what else to do. I have asked enough, you don’t have to stay.”
“We are friends, I will always have your back.”
A large smile came across Grayson’s face, “I like it when you have my front too.” She hit him playfully and pulled away.
“Clench.....” she said as she headed back towards his mother’s room. It took him a minute to remember the reference, and he burst into laughter.
Chapter Twelve
CHARLIZE HAD SLEPT on the couch in the bedroom with Mrs. Broche, checking the dressing, her temperature and heart rate every three to four hours. When the alarm sounded at 7 am, she found herself bordering on exhaustion. It pleased her to see that her efforts and diligence had paid off; Grayson’s Mom was up and feeling eighty five percent better. She left her card and made Mrs. Broche promise to call if there were any changes and she would be back on Monday to check on her and review the lab results.
Downstairs, she greeted Grayson who handed her a cup of decaf, a piece of toast, and a cup of yogurt for breakfast. They ate in silence and he could see she was worn out. Jorge arrived shortly thereafter, followed by Antonio and his two sons, then by Brianna and her three children. The five children sounded like mini parrots as they all vied for Grayson’s attention yelling, “Tío, Tío, Tío.” His patience with them was amazing, but it was Jorge who started the conversation with her.
“I thank you for coming over to take care of Mamí,” he told Charlize who only smiled and tried to be as sociable as she could. She did not feel comfortable discussing any of it with the children and would wait and let Grayson take care of it. Well, that was the plan until Benjamin Broche walked in the door, wide-eyed and hurried. He had been stuck on the beltway in rush hour traffic trying to get out of DC and missed his flight. He was the spitting image of what you would expect when you walked into a court of law and saw the black robe behind the bench. Grayson did not have an opportunity to update him and when he walked in and saw Charlize, he made a beeline to her.
“Thank you my dear for coming over and making a house call, I know Gray didn’t want to ask, I would have called you myself, but I lost my phone,” he told her while gripping her hand in both of his and pumping furiously.
“It was not a problem, Your Honor,” she told him as she handed him her card. “I will be Mrs. Broche’s personal phys
ician from this point forward. Here is my card, if you should need to reach me.”
Charlize almost felt the air leave the room when she said she would be Ayanna Broche’s personal physician. The judge went for his wallet, “Please, let me pay you, send me a bill, or something....” His voice was filled with emotion as it trailed off.
“No need to do all of that, Sir, but I may need to call you to get me out of jail in the not-so-near future,” she smiled at him but he was not moved.
The Judge asked, “What legal trouble would cause you to be arrested?”
Charlize smiled with a coy wink, “Any conversation with my youngest sister.” She smiled as she placed her hand upon Grayson’s chest, her fingers covering his heart, “Call me if there are any changes.” She said her farewells and headed to the door, she would be back on Monday for a follow up.
THE WEEK WAS INSANE. Somehow, she managed to get back to the Broche home on Monday afternoon to review the test results with Grayson’s mother. The woman was healthier than she was; the wound was also healing nicely and Charlize scheduled a follow up visit which included tea and Mrs. Broche’s famous marraquetas and empanadas.
“Charlize, I see why he feels the way he does about you,” she said as she pulled up the draw string pants.
“I’m sorry,” it would be dumb to assume that she understood what his mother meant.
“I see why my son holds you in such high regard,” she told her as she placed her hand upon Charlize’s shoulder, “You are quite the woman.”
Charlize smiled while placing her hand over Ayanna’s, “Your son is something rather special himself. I am lucky to have him in my life.”
The next statement hit Charlize in the chest like a heart seizure, “The two of you should stop play dating, get married, and give me some really smart grandchildren with exceptional palates. Life is too short to play at being together; if you love him, tell him, make him yours. It is time for you to start your lives together.”
Friends with Benefits Page 5
