by Willow Aster
“Damn.”
I step closer and he keeps staring at me, completely still.
“Coen?”
“Yeah?”
“This is me seducing you.”
That seems to put fire in his blood. His mouth curves up and he pulls me against him. His head bends down until our lips barely touch and he says, “This is the best birthday of my life.”
TO SAY THE night is euphoric would be an understatement. It’s an awakening. Talk about a harmonic convergence—that has never felt more true than now. Something inside me has broken, let go, and I don’t have anything holding me back as I love him.
I tell him that, over and over, as I cover his body with kisses. I love you, Coen Brady. As we make love again when the sun comes up. When he stirs in his sleep and reaches for me once more. I can’t tell him enough.
He’s shown me in so many ways, every day that we’re together, what love is. And if he’ll have me, I want to show him every day for as long as I live, how much I love him and how grateful I am for his love.
Before going back to the City Sunday night, we eat dinner with the family. I can tell that they’re taking note of the way we are with each other today versus last night. I see a few secretive grins and winks between Scott and Janie and I’m too happy to be embarrassed.
On the way home, I stare at him. He keeps looking over at me and smiling.
“Last night was … I can’t stop thinking about it.” He shakes his head. “I think you might really love me. Can’t believe it.”
“I do,” I say softly. I can’t stop smiling either. I press my lips together and look out the window.
“What’s on your mind, love?”
“Well … I was thinking maybe we could get the rest of my things sometime soon? I’m hardly at my place—I could get out of there.”
“Ahhh! You want to LIVE TOGETHER?” he yells, banging the steering wheel. His nose scrunches up and he leans forward, yelling, “Yes! Ahahaha!”
I laugh and clear my throat. “There was actually something else I wondered. Instead of me moving into your apartment—I mean, I could for a while, but—what if we moved into the barn together? You start your coffee shop. Melody and Kara want more hours. I could still do the purchasing and go in a day or two a week. Help out at your mom’s shop if she wanted … or help at the coffee shop.”
His eyes get huge. He pretends his hand is shaking as he lifts it up to his mouth.
I nudge his arm. “You are a nut.”
He pulls my hand up and kisses it. “I love this idea. What has you thinking this way? Not that I’m complaining at all, but you’ve been hesitant and now you seem all in.”
“I’m still afraid. I don’t know if I’ll be able to keep it together. I don’t even know for sure how long you’ll want to have me around, once we’re actually LIVING TOGETHER,” I tuck my chin and raise my eyebrows with those words, “but every time I’m with you is wonderful. You’ve seen me at some of my worst times and keep sticking around. I’ve felt like I didn’t deserve you. I admit, I still don’t think I do, but I want to hang onto you as long as possible.”
“Stop saying you don’t deserve me. Nothing is further from the truth.” His tone is no-nonsense. He looks away long enough to maneuver around traffic. “Hey, do you mind if we get your things tomorrow night? I want to take my girlfriend home and make love to her.” He grins.
“Take me home.”
I TRY TO grab my suitcases from the trunk, but he hauls me over his shoulder.
“I’ll come back for them. I’ve got something to take care of first,” he says, kissing my side and running up the stairs.
We pass a couple coming downstairs and Coen greets them.
“Maby,” he says, pointing at me. “Doug and Sarah.”
I wave. “Hi.”
I hear them chuckling as they move away.
He goes up another flight. When we get to his door, he fumbles with the keys and takes a deep breath.
“Put me down. I know I’m heavy.”
“You are not. I am a little … winded from the stairs, though.” He swats my bum. “You’re light.”
He finally gets the door open and kicks it closed behind him.
“Quit trying to sweet talk me, you’ve already got me.” I reach down and pinch his butt.
He groans. “When will you start believing what I say?”
He gets to his room and lowers me gently on the bed. “I have imagined doing this to you a thousand times since the first night you stayed here,” he says, looking down at me.
We start pulling all our clothes off. He tosses his on the floor and I lay mine carefully on the bed beside us.
“Does it bother you that I toss my clothes on the floor?”
“Not now. But it will if you leave them there.” I grin.
“Noted.”
“Stop talking now,” I whisper and pull him down to kiss me.
THE NEXT DAY I make an appointment to get on the Pill. I’m able to get in around 4:00, so Kara covers the store while I go. On the subway, I text Coen to let him know that he doesn’t need to pick me up.
Coen: Don’t forget we have an apartment to pack up!
I’m trying to make sure we don’t have a baby living with us too!
Coen: :) You know how I feel about that.
Who ARE you?
Coen: Your studly lovahhh
O.O
Coen: ^^^ Is that your pregnant boobs? I like!
It’s googly eyeballs. Remember when I said there was only room for one weirdo? You’ve officially taken over the role.
Coen: It took you long enough to realize…
I’m almost there. Meet me at my apartment at 6?
Coen: I’ll probably beat you there.
XO
Coen: Now, what’s happening with those boobs?!
I laugh out loud and the lady next to me snickers too. I look over and she quickly looks away from my phone.
My appointment goes well, but I’m running a little behind by the time I get my prescription and walk the last few blocks home. I go ahead and stick a pill in and swallow it without water. I’m a little hungry and forgot to see what we were doing for dinner, so I text Coen to see if I should grab something or if he wants to get food delivered. He doesn’t answer, so I keep walking. It’s 6:13 when I walk up my 36 stairs.
I won’t even miss this place, I think before reaching the last flight. Too many sad times. The thought of Coen’s living, breathing, alive apartment with all his beloved plants and comfortable furniture makes me nearly giddy. I give a tap, tap to the door to warn Coen I’m coming in and unlock the door. It’s still dark.
“Coen?” I call.
No answer. I check my phone. No texts from him. He must have gotten stuck at La C. I flip on the lights and get started on my bedroom. I grab garbage bags, since all my suitcases are already at his place. While I’m packing, I go ahead and do my sorting process, with a pile for Goodwill, a pile to throw, and a pile to keep. I lose track of time. Damn, it feels good to get organized. I’ve been feeling better, but it will always feel good to pare down even more.
I’m stunned when I pick up my phone and it says 7:26. I call him and it goes straight to voicemail. I don’t leave a message, but call La Colombe and ask if Coen is still there.
“No, he left at 5,” they answer.
I hang up and sit down. I’m not gonna worry. Not gonna worry. Not gonna. Not…
I clutch the phone and am trying to figure out who I could try next, when my phone rings. It’s a number I don’t recognize.
“Hello?”
“Maby? It’s Scott. Coen’s okay, but he’s been in an accident. He’s hurt pretty bad, but he’s asking for you. At Presbyterian.” I hear someone talking in the background. “Maby? You there?”
I immediately shake so hard I can barely hold the phone. “I’ll be right there,” I choke out.
I CANNOT LOSE Coen Brady.
I chew my nails the whole subway ride. When I get
to the hospital, I stare at the door and try to still the shakes.
I hate hospitals. Everything fades into each other in shades of brown and grey and fluorescent. I stopped noticing the cheery scrubs the minute I had to go to the lowest level of the hospital and identify my mother’s body two years ago.
I haven’t said it out loud or told anyone, but it’s raging in my head like a loud gong. Two years ago tomorrow. I had to come to this hospital and confirm that the lifeless, bloody body in the morgue was my mother. I promised myself I’d never come back here.
Two fucking years and here I am again.
Two years without her.
I’ve been happily packing my apartment to move in with Coen, pushing down the fact that it’s been two years, not realizing that the love of my life was in danger. I don’t know why I thought my life could go uphill and stay there.
The sadness of this being the anniversary of my mom’s death would have caught up with me. I’ve known this for at least a week and have been trying to work out a plan for not losing my mind over it. I thought I would schedule at least 3 blocks of ‘worry hour’ sometime when Coen wasn’t looking, but the rest of the time, I’d hoped we’d have crazy amounts of sex to make up for all the time I’d spent pushing him away. In my head, it had seemed like a wonderful, promising distraction.
This does not fit into my plan.
I can’t wrap my mind around an accident. And this, coming back here now, is like a sick joke.
47, 48, 49, 50 … back to 48, 49, 50. You don’t have time for this, Maby! I yell inside my head. I’m stuck in front of the hospital, counting steps.
This is the way things go in my world. They don’t go this way in Coen’s world, though, so this is a surprise. One that has twisted everything upside down.
He has to be okay. I can’t afford to lose my mind right now. I have to get to him. This is not about you, Maby, I say out loud and it helps me get in the door.
I run into the ER and realize I’m not even sure where he is. Fuck. I didn’t even ask. I wipe my face and move from foot to foot while I wait for the person in front of me to get done at the information desk. The minute they step aside I move forward.
“I’m here to see Coen Brady?”
“One moment,” she says, tap, tap, tapping on her computer.
I want to run around and look over her shoulder and do some tap, tap, tapping myself.
“I believe he’s having tests done. He hasn’t been admitted into a regular room yet.” She tells me how to get to the waiting room that’s near the room he’ll eventually be in. “You’ll want to go up that elevator and down the hall to the right.” She points over my shoulder and I nod. She tells me more turns and I walk away with her still saying something.
I get on the elevator and can’t remember the first turn she said, much less the rest. I do know the floor and push the number. When I get off, Jade is in the hall, looking as lost as I feel.
“Maby!” She hugs me. “Have you seen him yet?”
“No. I just got here. Have you?” I mentally kick myself for wasting so much time outside.
“No. I think my parents are down here.”
She puts her arm around my waist and we walk hurriedly down the hall. We pass a nurses’ station and she points us in the right direction. Janie is in the corner of the room, blowing her nose. She stands up when she sees us.
“Hey.” She sniffles. “A car ran a red light and barreled right into him. He’s lucky to be alive, the police said. He’s having lots of tests done. They think he’s got some broken ribs, and maybe his pelvis? He looks awful, but they said most of that is just cosmetic. Dad’s with him.” She puts her arms around both of us and we huddle together, crying. “I think he’ll be out in about an hour. He was so worried about you waiting for him, Maby.”
We move to the chairs and I sit down, putting my head in my hands. The tears don’t stop. We don’t talk, but just sit there, nervously waiting.
I sit as long as I can and then start pacing. When I feel like I’m making them too nervous, I step out of the room and walk up and down the hall.
Finally, Janie comes out and says, “Scott just texted that he’s in his room.”
We walk to the room and I stand back to let Janie and Jade go in first, but Janie holds onto our arms and we all go in. Coen’s eyes are closed, but when he hears us, he opens his eyes and gives a faint smile. He reaches his hand out and we all take turns hugging him.
“You okay?” he whispers to me.
“I want to know if you are okay,” I whisper.
He closes his eyes. “I think I look worse than I am,” he says. “I’m fine.” He cracks open an eye and smiles at that. “They’ve got me drugged up.”
One of my tears drops onto his hand.
“Please, don’t worry, Maby. I think I’ve got some broken ribs. I’m just sore. You go home and try out that new pipe and try to relax.” He grins. “I’ve already asked Dad to help move your stuff to my apartment.”
“Stop worrying about me. I can’t believe you’re thinking about that right now.”
“Are you kidding? I finally got you to agree to live with me.” He chuckles and grimaces.
I lay my head on his chest and start my inner plea bargaining with God and my mother and grandmother and anyone else up there who might help.
He strokes my head. “Listen to me. I feel good,” he says. “Look at me, Maby.”
I lift my head up. “And you listen to me. I can’t lose you, Coen.”
“Lose me? I just got you. I’m not going anywhere. Do you hear me?”
“I hear you,” I tell him.
Coen lifts my head off of his chest. “You’re not hearing me. You’re going to the worst possible scenario. Car accidents happen. I made it out of a crunched up SUV and here I am talking to you.” He closes his eyes for a second and blinks them open. “Life is pretty great. You need a little bit of this medicine they gave me.” He chuckles and pulls my head closer, talking so only I can hear him. “I’m ticked that I’m not packing up your place tonight and wasting all this time in here. I had plans for tonight. They involved not sleeping nearly so much as I’m about to.” The dimples come out. “I’m not going anywhere. It’s been my mantra since I met you. In my head mostly, but…” His voice fades off.
We all watch him like a hawk until he falls asleep and then we still stand over him. The doctor comes in after what seems like forever. He wakes Coen up and checks his eyes and a few of the deeper cuts.
“A couple broken ribs, but everything else seems okay. I think you’re really fortunate to be in such good shape, from what I hear about your vehicle.”
Coen nods. “Yep. I had one of those ‘life flashes before me’ moments…”
My eyes get huge and the tears just won’t stop. I go back and forth between tissues and wet wipes, my skin is raw and I know I’m all kinds of hot mess.
“These things tend to offer clarity,” the doctor says while he writes on the chart. “You’re too young for your life to flash before you, so be careful out there. I can call in your prescription to your pharmacy. You’re going to be sore for a while with the ribs, but … like I said, you’re young.”
He smiles at Coen and gives me a slight wink. His face falls a little when he sees I’m bawling. I shake my head and give a wobbly smile. Janie puts her arm around my waist.
He turns back to Coen. “I’d like you to see your physician in the next couple of weeks, see how you’re healing up. But, I don’t see a reason to hold you down any longer.”
“Thanks for everything,” Coen says.
When the doctor leaves the room, there’s a collective sigh around the room.
“See? I’m all set.” He holds his side as he moves his feet off the bed. “Can we move your things later this week?” he asks.
I put my head in my hands and weep. Coen stands up and puts his arms around me. Everyone gathers around us and we have a huge group hug. I’ve never had one of those and I have to say, it is the
best.
“I’m sorry I’m freaking out. I’m just so relieved. And I love all of you.”
They laugh at me and Jade kisses my cheek before backing away.
“You’re stuck with us,” she says. “We love you too. Leave us again and you’re dead meat.”
Scott jumps in. “What she said! Hey, I’ll go get the car. We can drive you guys home, get you settled in…”
“Thanks, Dad,” Coen says.
They walk out, the air so much lighter than before. I grin up at him and try to find a place to squeeze. I settle for his nose. “That goes for you too, by the way. The leaving and you’re dead meat part!”
“What? I never left!”
“Well, still!” I say, before blowing my nose. “And I’m not going anywhere either,” I whisper in his ear.
I feel his ear lift slightly and know he’s smiling.
“Take me home,” he says.
IT’S A HARD week, but we get through it. Coen barely makes a peep about the pain he’s in, but I hover over him, making sure he doesn’t have to even blink without my help. I don’t have to slot in worry time, it’s naturally working itself out in my stress about him. In spite of everything, we have one of the best weeks of our relationship. We talk non-stop. I cook for him, and he goes on about my cooking like I am making his whole world complete. We watch every movie we’ve ever wanted to see. At night, when I can tell he’s the most uncomfortable, I read to him.
We don’t leave the apartment, except for the day we go to my mom’s gravesite. It’s something I’ve never done and once I go, I know why. She isn’t there. I feel less of her in the cemetery than anywhere else.
I feel her when Coen and I talk about her—we talk about her a lot. I wish with everything in me that they could have met each other. She would have been crazy about him. She would have imagined grandbabies with his dimples and our brown eyes. She would sparkle as much as I do over the way he loves me. And the way I love him. I can just imagine her shaking her head and smiling that sideways smile, the one that looked like she had a secret. Those eyes that knew sadness and sorrow and pain, but that gave so much life and love and heart with every look. She would be ecstatic about this change in my life. I’m pretty sure she would have been fighting for him from the very beginning.
