Embracing Ellie: K&S Securities Series

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Embracing Ellie: K&S Securities Series Page 12

by A. J. Andersen


  Ana and Faye continue chatting about Ellie and Becca’s imminent arrival. I’m only half listening to the conversation flowing around me, instead thinking about what I could possibly do to make things easier for Ellie while she tends to her ailing family.

  “What’s wrong with Beatriz and Lizzie?” I blurt, not even thinking about using their first names until Ana’s calculating gaze lands on mine.

  “Beatriz and Lizzie have the same upper respiratory infection that Auggie had last week, and since he’s feeling better Ellie is staying home with him.” She says.

  “Who’s Beatriz and Lizzie?” Faye asks, looking between Ana and I, confusion crinkling the bridge of her freckled nose.

  “Ellie’s mom and sister,” Ana replies, a knowing smile curving up the corners of her lips.

  “Ohhh. I see.” Faye says, nodding her head and smiling at me. “You should get a takeout tub of soup and take it to them.” She suggests. “I bet Ellie would appreciate not having to fix lunch today.” She shrugs her slender shoulders, “I hate having to cook when I’m not feeling well, I bet it’s the same when you are taking care of sick people.”

  “Faye’s right,” Travis says grinning at me. “You should take some time off today and go make sure they’re doing okay.”

  “That’s a great idea,” Xavier interjects, jumping on the send Blake to Ellie’s train, “Let her know she’ll be earning sick pay wages for as long as she needs time off to take care of her family.”

  Ana throws her arms around him with a happy squeal, pressing her lips to his cheek several times, murmuring loving words to him in a quiet voice in between kisses.

  That right there. I want that. The feeling, not quite jealousy, swamps me so unexpectedly that my throat clogs with emotion. Clearing it, I snatch up my coffee, drain the cup and signal for the waitress. She hurries over.

  “Can you please get me a large container of soup to go?” I ask.

  She smiles, “Of course, anything else?”

  Thinking of Ellie and Auggie I can only think of one thing, “If there is any pie, a couple of slices would be great.”

  “I think that there is,” She says before turning back to the kitchen and hurrying away.

  “Make sure to stop for ginger ale and some of that menthol rub stuff too.” Faye offers.

  “And a bottle of cold medicine.” Ana says, “Just in case they’re running low.”

  “Hand sanitizer, bro,” Travis is laughing. Fuck him, but he’s right. I will definitely be getting hand sanitizer. I hate being around sick people. That I’m even considering this is totally unusual for me, but the thought of Ellie being home caring for a toddler and two sick adults by herself isn’t something I can ignore.

  When the waitress returns to the table, she sets down a large plastic container of hearty looking soup, a paper plate with slices of pie wrapped with cellophane and a foil wrapped package.

  “What’s this,” I question, tapping the foil with one finger.

  “This is for Ellie, isn’t it?” she asks. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to overhear, but…” she waves a nervous hand toward the table nearest us with a shrug.

  “It is,” I admit. It’s not a secret, I guess, not that I appreciate my personal business being public this way.

  “That’s a loaf of our garlic toast,” she says. “I also got a container of our lemon orzo soup out of the freezer because it’s Ell’s favorite.”

  I can’t put a name to how that makes me feel, but I know it makes me happy that people care for Ellie and are watching out for her. The waitress sets a bag on the table beside the containers of food and swiftly packs everything up.

  “Lawrence is back there,” she explains, “that’s why I brought it out here before I had it ready.” She smiles at Ana and the two share an eyeroll.

  “Has he been any better the last few days?” X inquires knowing that the word spread like wildfire that Lawrence was under review for his behavior.

  She shrugs, “I guess. He hasn’t said anything inappropriate to anyone that I’ve heard about, but that doesn’t stop him from bumping into you and accidentally touching you.”

  Xavier makes a sound of disgust, “Stop in my office to make an official report. Anyone else he’s done it to as well.” He tells the young lady who nods her thanks and slides the full bag toward me.

  “There you go Mr. Stone. All set.” Her smile is genuine. “Let Ellie know not to worry about anything, I was talking to some of the girls today and they’re doing okay.”

  “She’ll be worried about missing work,” Ana declares. “So, make sure she knows that taking care of her family is more important than working.”

  I rise from my seat, taking the handle of the bag in hand. “Got it,” I tell them all, smiling at the group assembled in front of me. “Anything else?”

  “Get something for Auggie,” Ana suggests. Faye nods.

  “Good idea.” Travis and Xavier say at the same time. I huff a small laugh and shake my head and turn to go with a wave.

  A chorus of goodbyes and suggestions follow me, and I appreciate it, but I ignore them. This morning got out of hand, but in the best way. I catch a glimpse of Lawrence lurking in the doorway of the manager's office watching me go. His eyes are narrowed angrily as he lifts his phone from his pocket and glances at the screen. While I watch from the corner of my eye his thumbs tap on the screen and he puts it back in his pocket, his scowl turning into a vicious smile.

  Chapter Eighteen

  Ellie

  Thank goodness everyone is resting and Auggie is happily watching Netflix Kids. I’m exhausted and it’s not even noon yet. The little cold that Auggie had last week was nothing compared to the virus that has hit Mama and Liz. I’m a little concerned that it’s the flu since both of them have had a fever and body aches to go along with a nasty wet cough. I haven’t ever washed my hands so much in my life, but I think it’s working. I’m still feeling okay. Tired, but not sick.

  Shoving wet laundry into the dryer I turn it on, planning to watch a few minutes of TV with Auggie, just for an excuse to sit down, before putting together something simple for lunch. I need to feed everyone without putting too much effort into it. When Auggie takes his nap, I’m hoping that I’ll be able to take one too, but Lizzie has never been able to be sick gracefully—think man-cold times ten. She’s been driving me crazy with her constant demands and whining.

  A brief knock on the front door startles me. We aren’t expecting anyone, so I run to answer it before whoever it is disturbs Mama and Liz. Swinging the door open, expecting a salesman or something, I suck in a quick breath when I see Blake standing on the concrete steps holding the handle of a large paper bag.

  I can’t stop my eyes from devouring him; a grey cotton t-shirt stretches across the thick, defined muscles of his chest and arms and I’m unable to look away from where the worn denim of his jeans cups what looks like an impressive package. Cheeks flushing, I nervously pat my hand over my hair. My messy bun is lopsided, and wild tendrils are hanging lankly against my neck and face. There’s no doubt that I look like a wreck in my holey leggings and one of my dad’s old t-shirts.

  “Blake, what are you doing here?” I ask him, backing away from the door and making room for him to come in.

  “You haven’t worked in a few days,” his feet shift a little like he’s uneasy, “Anyway, I didn’t get your number before I left the other night and I wanted to check on you.” He lifts the bag. It looks like the ones they use in the café for people who want to carry out their meal.

  “I brought lunch,” he says with a grin.

  “Oh, my goodness, you are amazing!” I exclaim. Taking the proffered bag in one hand and grasping his with my empty one, I pull him past the living room to the kitchen. I set the crisp white bag on the counter and turn to thank him for his thoughtfulness to find him only inches away, his lips curved up in a pleased smile as he gazes down at me.

  “Thank you,” I whisper as he moves closer. His nose brushes against mine, his
breath soft against my skin. I can’t stop the shiver of reaction that ripples through my body at even that small contact.

  “You’re welcome.” His words are murmured against my mouth. I part my lips slightly in invitation, our breath mingling before, with the softest of touches, his warm tongue slicks across my bottom lip, tasting me. Sensations that I can’t even begin to describe ricochet through me and I can’t help the throaty moan that tears free of my body. My arms wind up around his neck as I rise on tiptoe, head tilted back, fully offering my mouth to him. I need his kisses as much as I need air, maybe more. The silken softness of his lips drift across my cheek, nuzzling a sensitive spot by my ear that I didn’t even know existed.

  “Miss me?” he whispers his breath hot against my skin.

  Only more than I can put into words. Letting my head fall to the side, my lips nip the place where the strong column of his throat meets his shoulder.

  “Yes.” I moan the word, reveling in the slight salty tang of his skin as I gather my courage and taste him there with the tip of my tongue.

  “Missed you too,” he groans the words, yanking me hard against him and lifting until I’m face to face with him, sitting on the tiled counter next to the bag of food with his narrow hips between my thighs. “So much,” his big hands cradle my face, our eyes eating each other up. This was inevitable; from the very first time I talked to him I felt drawn to him. No one has ever made me feel this way, so desperate to touch and be touched, so… happy. That’s what it is, happiness bubbling inside of me.

  I watched Lizzie meet Dan and fall in love, overjoyed for her, yet sad that it was an adventure she was embarking on without me. Now that I’m feeling the same bliss my heart contracts painfully for what she lost. For the first time I wonder if her forgetting isn’t a blessing in disguise. The thought of losing this man is terrifying and I only just met him. Lizzie’s loss seems even more unimaginable in comparison.

  “Mama?” Auggie’s voice behind me makes me jump and start to pull away from Blake’s arms, but he continues to hold me close, lifting me down to the floor and turning me in his arms to face my sweet boy.

  “Up!” He demands, approaching us with his little arms outstretched toward Blake who gives me one last squeeze, kissing the top of my head, before releasing me and lifting Auggie into his muscular arms, boosting him overhead amid peals of excited laughter. Tipping him upside down he ‘walks’ Auggie through the kitchen and hall, depositing him back in front of the TV.

  “Let’s watch your show while your mama makes lunch, bud. Are you hungry?” his voice is low and gentle.

  “Si,” is Auggie’s quick answer. I think he’s growing again. I can always tell because he is hungrier and takes longer naps. He’s been doing both lately. Grinning to myself I open the bag and pull out a foil wrapped package and unwrap it. It’s my favorite garlic French bread from the café! I wrap it up carefully and put it in the oven to warm. Excited to see what else Blake brought, I pull out a plate of pie slices, followed by a large plastic container of what looks like frozen soup. It’s perfect!

  Popping off the lid I dump the frozen block into a large pot and set it on the burner over low heat to defrost before following the sound of Auggie’s high, excited voice chattering about the movie he’s been watching. The deep rumble of Blake patiently answering him fills my heart with something I’ve never felt for someone who isn’t a part of my family. It feels like love, but it’s too soon for that. Isn’t it?

  I want this with him every day. For him to share meals and laughs. To share my family with him. There is no way that I can ever leave them behind, so anyone who is in my life will be in theirs as well. I hope that he wants that too. If he doesn’t, I already know that it will break me in ways I haven’t even considered yet.

  I’m falling fast. Faster than is advisable. I know that, but I don’t want to stop it. I don’t even want to slow down.

  Bouncing happily on my feet my exhaustion forgotten, I almost skip through the kitchen and into the living room. Auggie is on Blake’s lap, his attention split between the TV and the big man holding him. Smiling at them both I lower myself down beside them, sighing with contentment when Blake’s heavy arm slides around my shoulders and pulls me against his side. I snuggle close, resting my head in the hollow of his shoulder. This is perfect. I could sit here all day.

  “Ellie!” Lizzie’s call is punctuated by a fit of coughing. Maybe not...

  “Sorry,” I mumble, “Everyone is sick.”

  “I know,” he kisses my cheek and when I stand his wide palm sharply swats my butt cheek. I jump away giggling. He makes me feel like someone else… the girl I was before everything fell apart and I had to step in and be strong for my family. Like myself for the first time in so long. Turning, I give him a mock glare that makes him chuckle and set my hands on his shoulders and lean forward, kissing his cheek, then Auggie’s, before going down the hall to check on Lizzie and Mama.

  With promises of soup and medicine I leave Lizzie laying across the foot of her bed listening to music with her nose buried in a book and cross the hall to check on Mama. This bug is really kicking her butt, but it hasn’t stopped her from getting up and logging into work. She’s sitting in her bed, propped against a pile of pillows, her old laptop across her legs and her headset on. I listen for a moment to her explaining the different options available for whatever product she is selling this week. Pantomiming eating, I hold up five fingers indicating that I will bring food in five minutes. She nods and kisses her fingertips, blowing me a kiss before I go. Blake is in the kitchen when I return, holding my nephew on one hip.

  “It started smelling good, so we’re checking on it.” He says, handing the long-handled wooden spoon to Auggie and letting him stir the contents of the steaming pot. His big hand is wrapped around the much smaller one gripping the spoon, protecting it from the heat. I like that even though his inexperience with kids shows, his instinct is to protect Auggie from something that could hurt him.

  Auggie lets loose a stream of excited, unintelligible words and sounds, a combination of English and Spanish and who knows what. The only thing that makes sense is when he lifts the spoon to his waiting tongue then smacks his little lips and says “Yummy.”

  “Taste good, buddy?” Blake asks him. Auggie nods happily, his raven black curls bouncing on his forehead as he sticks the spoon back in the pot and lifts it to Blake’s mouth.

  “You!” Auggie encourages Blake to taste the spoon that he’s holding up. He does, taking the small hand in his again before together they toss the used spoon in the sink.

  “That is yummy soup,” he stage-whispers, making Auggie giggle. “The waitress said that it’s your mama’s favorite.” He meets my eyes with a smile.

  “It’s the lemon orzo?” I ask excitedly. “They don’t make it very often.”

  “She got it out of the freezer, but you knew that,” he admits.

  “I do. Have you ever had it?” I ask, pulling dishes from the cupboard and taking the pitcher of tea from the fridge to make trays for my mother and sister before setting the table for three.

  “Can’t say that I’ve ever had lemon soup,” he laughs, trying to put a clinging Auggie in his booster seat at the table. Sometimes that’s the hardest part of mealtimes.

  “There’s only a little lemon in the broth,” I tell him, rolling my eyes as I pull the foil wrapped package of bread from the oven and open it before it burns my fingertips.

  He finally pries Auggie’s arms from around his neck and gets him settled in his seat with promises of pie after lunch while I carry trays down the hall for Mom and Liz, letting them know that Blake is here. With a small bounce on the mattress, Lizzie hops up and sticks her head into the hall hollering a greeting to him that makes her start coughing again. He calls back to her and I tuck her back into bed, placing the tray over her lap while she sulks about not being able to come out and visit.

  Smoothing my hand over her hair I whisper, “You don’t want to get Blake sick, so
stay put. There’s pie for later.”

  Her pouty expression brightens immediately, “Chocolate?” she asks hopefully.

  “I haven’t checked, but if there is chocolate, I will put your name on it.”

  Dipping her garlic toast in her soup she makes a contented noise, dismissing me. Everyone is settled so I head back to the kitchen to see what’s left over for me.

  I’m surprised when I re-enter the kitchen to find Auggie happily munching on toast and soup, but Blake’s bowl is empty.

  “Beatriz and Lizzie okay?” He asks, ladling the savory broth into bowls and setting them on plates with the toast. I move to approach him and he shakes his head. “I’ve got this. Go wash up.”

  Embarrassed that I almost forgot, I hurry to the sink and scrub my hands before taking my seat at the table across from him. He waits for me to pick up my spoon and take a bite before doing the same. I can hardly remember the last time anyone waited for me to eat. It was before Liz’s accident.

  Mom always insisted on us using good table manners, but after Liz came home from the rehabilitation center, we traded our old normal for a new one. One where I have felt more and more taken for granted even though I know that hasn’t been anyone’s intention. Blake’s one small gesture gives me back something I didn’t realize I was missing. A feeling that I’m important to someone.

  “Thanks for waiting for me,” I tell him, feeling super emotional and wanting to express how much I appreciated it. The soup is amazing, as usual. There’s a reason it’s my favorite. I wait for Blake to finish his first bite of tender chicken and orzo pasta in light broth to see what he thinks.

  Placing his spoon back in his bowl, he grins scooping another bite into his mouth and swallowing before replying. “Of course I waited. I wanted to have lunch with you.” He says ripping a chunk off his piece of bread.

  “I’m glad,” I say, suddenly feeling a little bit shy. We finish eating in silence, our eyes frequently meeting across the table. His long legs are stretched out so that my feet are bracketed between his. It’s nice.

 

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