by Maggie Ryan
It wasn’t untrue.
“So, here’s how this is going to go, you’re going to stand her and take your switching, in front of all these people. And after that, if you insist on doing all of these, things we will. But think very carefully on it, because every time we step outside this cabin, you’re going to be doing so with a freshly spanked bottom.”
They had stayed inside the whole weekend. After a particularly painful switching, suddenly the idea of nude water sports hadn’t seemed as appealing. On the last day, she had decided she couldn’t give up her windsurfing appointment. Jake had kept his promise. The breeze and the spray as she glided across the lake had cooled the fire on her bottom.
The fire in her cheeks at the memory was another matter entirely. When she looked down, she was surprised to find her hands were full of socks, and they were exactly the ones she had intended to choose, but she had no memory of getting them. Mary was staring at her expectantly.
Shaking her head as if to clear it, she stuttered out an explanation of each pair. Two pairs of matching hot pink BFF knee-highs, Red polka dotted socks that matched Minnie Mouse’s dress. Green socks covered in dice and cards and martini glasses for a weekend in Vegas. Road trip socks, plastered with highway signs and national landmarks, and several other pairs just for fun. Mary had bought eight pairs—seven for Beth and one for herself. Joey’s eyes filled with tears as she rang up the sale, the touching story of friendship warming her heart. This. This was why she had opened her store.
Chapter 3
Jake pulled away from the shop, mentally kicking himself and mentally spanking Joey. He had messed up. He knew he had messed up when he chose to not spank her, because it made it easier for him to hold on to his hurt and anger. But therein lay the problem. He had never been this hurt or angered by his wife’s antics. They spanned far across the board from dragging him to a nudist resort without his knowledge to bringing home a stray cat to skydiving. Annoying, and sometimes dangerous, but always amusing. He had not been amused this time.
He hadn’t felt like a spanking would do any good. It wasn’t a matter of not trusting himself. He could keep his control. In his mind, the decisions had been made, the damage had been done, and a spanking wouldn’t help her see the error of her ways if she didn’t see them. In retrospect, the damage had been done every other time, but with the exception of the cat, who they had named Lola, the incidents had no long-term effects.
It was possible he had made a mistake. He had swept his feelings under the rug, and tried his hardest to move on. In his mind, what was done was done, and their energy would be better spent making sure the venture was a success.
It was his own damn fault anyway. Joey’s obsession with socks was something he had started the day he met her. And one he had continued. He still presented her with socks for every occasion, and had even taken to wearing fun ones himself. Her belief in the power of footwear and a sock for every occasion was nothing new to him. It had never occurred to him that she would try to make a career out of it, or that her decision to do so would not include him.
He had put it aside, and set into supporting her. Pouring over sock catalogs and building displays. Making dinner while she worked on plans and gushed over each and every order while it came in. He thought he had been supportive. He thought he had moved on and made a decision that was best for both of them. He hadn’t realized until this morning that he hadn’t moved on at all.
He should have lectured her. He should have told her how he felt, and dammit, most of all he should have spanked her. Not that it mattered now. He couldn’t go back on his decision weeks later. It wouldn’t be right.
He was going to have to find a way to chalk it up to a lesson learned. They needed spanking between them to move on from things, to open the lines of communication. Joey had always been the one holding things in, due to how she was raised. It was a habit he had worked hard to break her of.
“Hi.”
Jake looked up from Mrs. Norman when Joey breezed in, carrying a ratty backpack and looking like she hadn’t slept in a week. He tilted his head and frowned as he watched her take up residence in her usual spot. Something was off. Her hair, which she hadn’t began losing yet, was pulled into a ratty ponytail, and she wore several layers of clothing. Sometimes chemo made people cold, but that was why they all had blankets. Had she forgotten hers?
His question was answered as she opened her backpack and pulled it out, spreading it over herself.
He quickly finished up with Mrs. Norman and headed towards, her, grabbing her chart from the stack, and making casual conversation as he worked his way through her vitals.
Her answers were short and measured, and she couldn’t quite look at him. His heart raced. He had only known her a few short weeks, but this was not the Joey he knew and cared for.
Kneeling down to her level, he said her name, waiting for her to look him in the eyes. She did, but only briefly. Her socks poked out from under her blanket and she wiggled her toes, focusing her attention on the kangaroos rather than on him.
“Joey,” he repeated. “Are you not sleeping well? Are you having pain? What did the doctor say? Do you want me to call him?”
“I’m fine.” Her voice told a different story. “I just have things to do today. I want to get this done and over with.”
It was a lie, and a ridiculous one to boot. This far into chemo treatments, she couldn’t be feeling too well afterwards. She certainly wasn’t looking well today. Most people went home and slept, or worst case scenario, spent the afternoon camped out in front of the porcelain god. It also wasn’t his business, no matter how badly he wanted it to be. He was a nurse, and she was his sick patient.
“Okay, then. Let’s move this along, I guess.” He couldn’t really. It took as long as it took. They both knew that, but neither of them was willing to admit it, so they pretended. Joey nodded, curtly, pulling a tattered book from her book bag, and buried her face in it—effectively shutting him out.
He had plenty to keep him busy. Keeping blankets heated, monitoring patients, making sure everyone was as comfortable as they could be. He moved around the room as he always did, straightening blankets, chatting with the women about their families, and spending time with each and every kid. Each time he passed Mr. Anders, he made a move on the chessboard. The old man would take his time, mentally debating his own move until Jake came back around. Not that it mattered. Jake always let him win. Each time he passed Joey, he hesitated, and she stuck her nose deeper into her book. Once she even pretended to be asleep.
The day passed quickly, and as usual, for all her fussing about having stuff to do, Joey took her time leaving, striding out just as Noah, his shift relief, strode in for the evening.
The temptation was too great. He followed her. He felt like a crazy stalker doing so, but he couldn’t have stopped himself. She took the elevator so he took the stairs. Most people had someone pick them up after chemo, but it didn’t surprise him that Joey wasn’t one of those people. Driving yourself home after chemo was rare, but not unheard of.
The parking garage was quiet and he realized too late that he had no idea what kind of car she drove. His own Honda civic made several laps around the lot before he realized how ridiculous he was being. Of course he had missed her. She had taken the elevator and he the stairs.
Besides, following her was crazy. From the moment she walked into his life, he had hopped aboard the crazy train. Following a patient home? That was beyond crazy. Maybe he should go back into the hospital and check himself into the psych ward.
“Go home, Jake,” he muttered to himself, pulling out of the lot. “Leave work at work.” As a chemo nurse, who dealt with a heady combination of hope and hopelessness each day that was what he had to do.
Of course, he got caught at the first red light. And that was when he saw her. She was on foot. Walking across the highway. He could see from here that she was feeling the effects of the chemo already. Walking home—after chemo? Was she crazy?<
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Keep driving, man. That was what he should do. He could stop and offer her a ride, but he had no doubt that she wouldn’t accept it. She made it across the road just as the light turned green, and turned left, going the same direction he was driving. It wouldn’t hurt to keep an eye on her, just to make sure she made it home safely. He was, after all, a gentleman. It was the right thing to do, he told himself, lowering his speed so that he stayed just ahead of her, keeping his eye trained on his driver’s side mirror.
She walked for several more blocks, growing slower and more sallow looking with each step she took. Just when he couldn’t take it anymore, she turned into the city park. What the hell? Jake, of course, was past it already, and circled the block. He parked in the small lot near the bathrooms and watched as she entered. A pit-stop, maybe?
He got out of his car and walked up to the brick building that housed the bathrooms. He could hear her retching as he walked up to the door.
A woman and her son approached, looking at him funny as they entered. He shrugged. She would hear the gagging when she walked in and figure it out eventually. Still, he probably looked like a perv loitering by the park bathrooms in his scrubs. There was a bench across the park with a clear view of the bathroom, so he waited there.
It was ten minutes before Joey came out, stopping at the water fountain. Jake stood, keeping his eyes on the ground as he slowly made his way back to his car, looking up discreetly every little bit to check her progress. To his surprise, she didn’t leave the park. She walked over to the far end, to a grove of trees that was a popular picnic spot in the summer and sat on a bench.
Puzzled, he stopped in his tracks, and watched as she opened her backpack. Out came a bottle of water, the book from earlier and her blanket. She took a swig of water, and looked at the book as if considering before returning it to the bag. The backpack was pushed to the far end of the bench, and she laid her head on it, and lay on the bench, using the blanket to cover herself.
Jake’s stomach sank to his knees as the truth sank in. He had known Joey was not well off, and didn’t have a good support system, but he had never dreamed it was this bad.
He didn’t think twice. His body acted of its own accord as he sprinted across the grassy park. People stared. Let them.
He was there in a minute. “No.” It was the only thing he could think of to say as he recovered from the shock.
Joey jolted at the sound of his voice, pulling herself up, fists curled into balls in front of her, ready for a fight. He stood there, calmly, hands at his side, with his heart breaking in his chest.
The shock on her features showed the minute she recognized him, but her fists stayed up. “Oh, it’s you.” Her whole body deflated. Her eyes filled with tears as she realized her secret was out, and she flopped down onto the bench.
“What do you want, Jake? What are you doing here?”
He sat down next to her, leaving space between them. There were tears in his own eyes. “Is this…do you…are you homeless?”
“As of two days ago.”
“But you’re sick. You can’t live in a park. You need to take care of yourself. You need someone to take care of you. You’re just a kid.”
Her sigh was long, as she looked at him, hopelessly. “I’m eighteen. I’m an adult, and no one has ever taken care of me before. Why would they start now? It’s okay, Jake. It is what it is. Lots of people have it worse than I do.”
Her answer, and her flat acceptance, both angered and saddened him. She deserved more.
“Come home with me.” In his mind, he was already running a bath, pulling out the fold out and calling his mother for her chicken soup recipe. Her response shocked him.
“No.”
He grabbed her backpack, turning towards his car. She said no, but she didn’t mean it. Why would she?
She grabbed it back from him, and sat back down.
“I’m not your problem, Jake. I’m not your responsibility. You’ve already done more for me than most people.”
“I gave you a blanket and socks.” Surely that couldn’t be more than most people had done for her.
Her smile was sad. “Exactly. The blanket keeps me warm, and the socks make me smile.”
There was already a chill in the wind, and it would only get colder once the sun went down. “Don’t be ridiculous. You’re coming home with me. You can’t live in the park, Joey. You’ll never make it.”
“Maybe not.” Joey was a realist. He could see in her eyes that she knew she wasn’t giving herself a fighting chance. “But no one will miss me.”
“I will, dammit!” he shouted, his voice louder than he intended, carrying on the wind.
“You can’t save them all, Jake. Death is a part of life.”
“I’m not trying to save them all. I’m trying to give you a fighting chance.” His cheeks were red, he knew, partially from anger, and partially from the cold. A fat raindrop fell on his nose. His jaw twitched. His stance was rigid, unmoving. She was coming with him, whether she liked it or not.
“It’s raining, Joey. You just finished chemo. If you get a cold or a fever, it could be life threatening.”
She wavered but stood her ground. This was getting ridiculous. He strode towards her, grabbing her backpack out of her arms. “Follow me.”
“Or what?” she challenged, crossing her arms over her chest as she glared at him.
He chuckled. Poor girl. She had just challenged the wrong man. “Trust me. You do not want to know the answer to that. Let’s go. March.” The raindrops were starting to fall faster and harder. Within a few minutes they would both be soaked.
She didn’t move.
The backpack was flung over his right shoulder, and he crouched slightly grabbing her just above the knees, so that she was flung over his left.
Joey shrieked in surprise, her fists flailing, punching wherever she could reach, his arm, his lower back, his butt. He paused for just a second, reaching with his left hand and swatted her butt hard, rolling his eyes when he felt the extra layers underneath her jeans. She still felt it.
“There’s more where that came from,” he informed her dryly, before continuing his trek. To his surprised pleasure, she quieted, the only protest and occasional oomph of air as he walked. He was also silent as he unlocked the passenger side door and unceremoniously deposited her, enabling the child safety locks as he walked around to his side and got in.
The drive was also quiet. He had nothing else to say. His apartment was only a few blocks from the park, and they were there within minutes. He was a little worried that she would run, but the fight had left her. She looked tired and green around the gills as they entered.
Jake pointed towards the couch, and she sat, looking relieved and a little nervous. Good. Let her stew for a bit. The threat had been so natural to him, even though it had been over a year since he had spanked a woman. Joey was sick. She needed sleep, and warm clothes and chicken soup and soda crackers. And, a spanking. Common sense told him to skip it, but his gut told him not to. Jake always followed his gut.
He took her bag, unpacking the wet contents, and threw everything but the book and a wallet into the washer. A pair of sweats and an old T shirt from his room would do the trick for now. Was this all she had? It barely made a load.
A spare set of clothes in his hand, he stalked out to the living room, and held them out to her. “Go change. Bathroom is down the hall and to the left. Laundry room is next to it. Throw your wet clothes in the washer and push start. Join me back here when you are done.”
Her eyes were wide and questioning, but she obeyed quickly, and was soon standing in front of him in navy sweats and a gray t shirt with the hospital logo on it.
Seeing no reason to draw it out, and not up for another battle of wills, he wordlessly took her hand, and guided her over his knee.
A little gasp of surprise was the only sound that came from her.
His hand fell hard—through the thin material of the sweat pants. “You are
taking risks with yourself and putting your life in danger.” He lectured as his hand fell across her small bottom. She was smaller than he had realized. This wasn’t from the cancer. It was too early for that drastic an effect.
“My life is in danger.” Her argument was muttered, and it was the only one she gave. She did not yell or cry, or tell him to stop.
“If you’re not going to take care of yourself, I’m going to do it for you.” He peppered her crease with a barrage of stinging slaps, just hard enough to make his point.
“You’ve never had that in your life. I see that. I get it.”
“I can take care of myself.” This was louder, more stubborn than before.
“Fine. You can. But you can do it here. You’re staying with me, Joey, until you’re well and able to find a place of your own. And if you aren’t taking care of yourself, you’re going to find yourself back in this position, and next time there will be no sweats to protect your bottom.”
He took a shaky breath, thinking this was the hardest, and most emotional spanking he had ever had to give, and continued. Ten more swats on the diminutive backside, each one punctuating his expectations.
When he finished, she was crying softly. He pulled her into his lap and wiped her tears. His heart felt like it might explode with the emotions of the day.
“You’re not alone anymore, Joey. You don’t have to do it by yourself.”
The next day, he had taken a big chunk of his savings, and gone on a shopping spree. At the top of the list had been socks. No pre-packed generic socks for her. Each pair had been chosen with care and intended to bring a smile to her sad face.
This was all his fault.
Chapter 4
Sock it To me was a hopping place to be, Joey thought, watching happily as her stock dwindled with each person who entered. Nobody had left without a pair. The stream had finally died down around noon, and the only people currently in the shop were her and a young man in a suit, pacing nervously in front of the racks. He kept patting his pocket, and occasionally muttering to himself.
