by Jenny Wood
“You’re dressed.” He said; his voice gravely with sleep. He’d lost his cap while we were sleeping on the couch and he reached up to rub his head, just realizing it. I hated that he was uncomfortable with me seeing him like this because, he didn’t need to be. I reached for the hand, rubbing the fuzz on top of his head and brought his palm to my lips and held his eyes; letting him see how much I enjoyed looking at him. His chest and neck pinked, and I couldn’t help but chuckle to myself at his seemingly innocence.
“I made breakfast, you hungry?” I asked, keeping his hand in mine. He nodded and looked at the tray I’d brought in.
“That’s for me?” He asked, in wonder.
“Yep, I snacked in the kitchen while I was making it.” I smiled, propping the tray up across his lap.
“This looks really good.” He says softly. “Thank you.” He smiles.
“You’re very welcome. I’m assuming you like grapefruit, seeing as you had a half of one in the fridge.” I ask, forking a cubed piece and holding it to his lips. He watches me for a moment before opening his lips and taking the bite that I was offering. I spear another piece and watch him chew and swallow before offering another piece.
“This is the second time you’re feeding me. Is this a kink of yours?” His cheeks split in the biggest smile. I roll my eyes and fork some eggs. He eats like a bird, so I wasn’t surprised when he was full much quicker than I’d have liked.
“Thank you for bringing me this, too.” He shook his medicine box. I nodded and watched him throw them back and swallow with a drink of orange juice.
“Do any of those, make you sick?” I asked, curious as to what their all for.
“Sometimes, but I have an anti-nausea to help. Most are vitamins and steroids to keep my immune system healthy.
“My mom had breast cancer.” I said. I’d told him about her before, but never the cause. He froze. I shouldn’t have thrown it out there like that, but I wanted him to know that I’d somewhat handled this before.
“This must be bringing back a lot of painful memories for you then, huh?” He said, softly. His face was sympathetic but he also looked warry.
“What? No, not really; I just wanted to let you know that I’ve handled this before, Cancer, I mean.” I rambled. I fucked that up.
“This is going to be hard enough as it is, I don’t want to make it harder on you than it has to be.” His shoulders slumped and he wasn’t looking at me.
“Baby, I didn’t tell you that for any other reason than to let you know that I’ve gone through this before. I can be strong for you, if you’ll let me.” I told him, meaning every word of it. “So, let me.” I smiled. He didn’t say anything but I saw him nod, slightly.
“So, what’s your day look like, today?” I ask him, changing the subject to a hopefully, more pleasant one.
“Sunday’s are lazy days, I gear up for the week, maybe paint if I feel up for it. It’s normally for cleaning up but I did it yesterday, knowing you’d be coming over.” He blushed. Shaking it off and rolling his eyes, he knew his cheeks pinked at that admission. “What about you?” He asked.
“I have two appointments today. I do Sunday’s for out of towners who work during the week and can’t make it in. I’ve had them booked for close to three weeks now, so they’re my Sunday’s.” I tell him. I doubt any of the other guys will be in today, Kayson hasn’t been back yet so my second appointment is one of his.
“Do you know what their getting?” He asks.
“I do; the first guy, Charles, is getting a chess board and smoke with demon faces as tops of the chess pieces; they all resemble someone in his life that’s wronged him or that he’s let go.” I explain, poorly. “It’s complicated, I’ll take a picture when it’s done though. The second lady is an amputee, she’s wanting vines and flowers to cover scarring and the end of her leg that was cut off just under above the knee.” I point to my knee for example.
“That’s crazy.” He comments. I guess it sounds like it, but it’s just another day for me.
“When you get better and stop in to see me, what will you be getting?” I smile, remembering him telling me that it was on his bucket list when he got better; and I was adamant that he was going to get better. I wouldn’t have it, any other way.
“You know when you’re hooked up to a heart monitor and you see the spikes of your heart beat? I want those, across my ribs, under my heart; but in them, I want it to spell out, IM ALIVE, in the spikes. Do you know what I mean?” He asks.
“Of course, I can draw it up, let you see it and we’ll hold on to it until you get the all clear.” I let him know; hoping he’ll ask me to do it.
“You’d do that?” He asks, tilting his head to one side questioningly.
“I better be the one to do it.” I say in semi-mock sternness; hoping he hears at least some of the seriousness. I want to be the one to ink him, especially with something so significant. I could tell he liked my answer because his face heated again and he smiled.
“I need to get going; my first appointment is at 10 and I’ve still got to open up and get everything set up and ready.” I tell him, disappointedly. I wasn’t ready to leave him yet. “I had a good time last night though, not bad for a first date, eh?” I say, bouncing my eyebrows and nudging him, playfully.
“I had a good time too.” He’s smiling outright now.
“Thank you for dinner, all but the bite of pineapple one you made me taste, I do not thank you for that one.” I teased him, making him giggle sleepily
“I’ll call you, later?” I ask, leaning closer to his lips across the tray. He nods just before my lips make contact and I can taste the fruit on his lips when I suck his lower one into my mouth. I nibble it playfully and pull it back into my mouth, sucking the taste from him. I can’t get carried away, I don’t want to hurt him.
“Yeah, I’ll call you later.” I hear myself agree with…. myself. I peck his lips once more before standing up. I run my hand over the short, buzzed hair on top of his head and he leans into me. I’m glad he isn’t hiding that from me, anymore. I want all of him; even the not so glamourous parts.
I left him in bed with the breakfast I’d made him and took that imagine with me as I left.
“Alright, ma’am; we’re all finished. Let me wipe this down, we’ll wrap it up and you’ll be good to go.” I say to the lady who just let me tattoo her leg for the last four hours. It took quite a while for this one, scarring is never easy to ink and it has to be done with careful precision. After I wiped it down and applied the ointment, front and back I asked her to sit tight for a second and brought over the standing mirror we kept for situations like these. She got to look over my work and appreciate it from all angles. She immediately tears up, looking at her leg in wonder. It’s an array of colorful flowers, vines and butterflies and it extends all the way up her hip, onto her backside. It’s beautiful, if I dare say so myself.
“This looks amazing; I cannot thank you enough.” She whispers, still looking at every detail.
“Now I’ll remind you that if you have a prosthetic, that you don’t wear it for a couple weeks. I don’t want it rubbing this ink out.” I say. She’s nodding before I finish, she and Kayson had been over this in her initial consult and I’d reminded her before we got started; still, it didn’t hurt to remind her again. She’d lost her leg in an auto-accident with a jealous boyfriend, not paying attention to his speed during an argument. He walked away without a scratch and it had altered her life, forever. Weirdly, they were still together and happily, if I gauged by her happy chatting during our session. I always liked a happy ending. It also made me hopeful that things with Morgan would work out after we got over this hump of bad. There was something about him that I just couldn’t stay away from; didn’t want to. I wanted good stories and more nights like last night, with him. I also wanted him to meet Kayson and Conner who was supposed to get out of the hospital in the morning. It gave me an idea.
“Hello?” Morgan answered on the fourth ri
ng.
“Hey, busy?” I asked.
“No, I just finished cleaning up my paint brushes and junk, how was tattooing?” He asks, smiling, I can tell.
“Rewarding.” Is my reply. “So, listen, my brother’s boyfriend should get out of the hospital in the morning, I’m going to throw a sort of, welcome home thing for him since he’s lost his apartment and all that. I’m assuming Kayson has talked him into moving into our house by now, so I figured, why not. He’s great, you’ll like him. Want to come? I can come get you in the morning or, ya know, you could back a bag and stay with me tonight… I’m going to need help decorating in the morning and I need an artist’s vision.” I lay it on pretty thick, but I don’t care, I want him to come.
“You are an artist.” Is his amused rebuttal.
“Another artist.” I try again.
“I mean; it sounds fun but I don’t want to get in anyone’s way. I won’t know anyone.” He says.
“You’ll know me.” I quip. “I want to introduce you to my brothers.” I say, seriously. I wonder what the guys will think of him.
“That’s…. uhm, well…what will you tell them?” He stammers.
“That I’m seeing someone and surprise, it’s you!” I laugh at his scoff.
“I mean about how we met.” He says softly.
“A mutual acquaintance.” I deadpan. “It’ll be fun, come on.”
“Ok. If you’re sure.” He relents and I quietly fist bump the air. I’m glad nobody’s was here to see that.
“Awesome, I’ll pick you up in an hour, that okay?” I ask. I still need to clean up put all my shit away.
“Yeah, okay, you sure you want me to stay tonight?” He asks, hesitantly.
“Yep.” No question about it. I had two weeks until his surgery, I wanted to spend every day of those with him.
“Okay.” He breathes out. “I’ll jump in the shower and see you in a bit.” He says.
“Great, see you soon.” I’m smiling, I can’t help it. When we end the call, I shoot a group text to Layla, Jinx and Jody. Jody responds immediately, saying he’s in and I wait a few seconds before seeing if Layla or Jinx will respond. They don’t yet, so I text Merissa and ask if Kady can come. I invite her too of course; she declines, but says Kady can come and I tell her myself or Jody will pick her up in the morning and one of us would bring her home around dinner time. She agrees and by the time I’m done talking to her, Jinx and Layla both text back a thumbs up.
I clean up my mess and sterilize my equipment before putting everything back in its designated spot. I mop up my area and set the alarm, locking the door on my way out. Kayson is calling the minute I close the door to my truck.
“Helllooooo.” I sing into the phone. I hear him scoff before he replies.
“Hey man, you done with Lauren Gilson?” He asks about the amputee I’d just inked. She originally booked with him so I wasn’t surprised that he wanted to check up on her.
“I did, it looked amazing when it was done. I took pictures with the shop camera so we could add them to the books but I didn’t feel comfortable asking if I could snap pictures of her with my phone so I could show them to you. You’ll see ‘em when you come back.” I told him, turning the truck on and started the heat. It was chilly, being that it was the beginning of November but not terribly cold; still, I wanted the truck to be nice and warm when Morgan got in.
“Sweet.” He says. “Debbie just came to sit with Conner, she’s making me go home and shower and stop for something to eat.” He sounded sulky, it was cute.
“Trouble with the in-laws, already, bro?” I teased. Debbie was Conner’s mom and she was amazing. I’d met her a couple times when I was on Conner duty, hanging out with him while Kayson worked or something. We didn’t like the idea of leaving him alone when someone was obviously threatening him. We were right to worry, obviously, look at what had happened.
“Tell her, away from Conner if you could please, that we’re throwing him a welcome home party tomorrow. Just the family and I’ve invited someone I want you to meet, but she should be there too.” I tell him, hating I had to ruin the surprise but I didn’t have any other way to get ahold of Debbie. I didn’t know her number. “Assuming he didn’t turn you down when you asked.” I snickered.
“I didn’t ask; I’m just bringing him home.” He tells me. “I told Debbie though, she wasn’t happy about it. I think Conner assumes he’ll be going home with her. A party might distract him if he’s mad at me; good plan, King.” He boasts and I laugh. My brother, not the sharpest tack in the box.
“So, who’s the guy?” Kayson asks, cutting my laugh off so I can smile.
“Hmmm, his name is Morgan and he’s a painter.” I tell him. I can hear the dreamy like melody in my voice and don’t even think to try and cover it up.
“Ooooh, Morgan the painter…. Interesting.” He taunts.
“You’ll like him, he’s great. I want you on your best behavior though, I don’t want you scaring him off.” I warn and it’s his turn to laugh.
“Oh, how the tables have turned.” He says. He’s my brother, I can’t hurt him; but I might be tempted if he pulls any shit.
“Come on, I was on babysitting duty for days with Conner and I didn’t even tell him about the time you dressed up in moms’ sundress and heels. I have a picture of that, you know!” I threatened.
“You said you got rid of that!” He almost yells. I can hear him in the car, probably heading home. I hope he doesn’t look for it; I didn’t hide it very well. It’s in a regular photo album in my room.
“Yeah, well… I figured I’d need it one day.” I say, unrepentant.
“You’re an asshole.” He laughs. “Can you do me a favor though, preferably tonight but just any time before we get home tomorrow?” He asks.
“Sure, what’s up?” I reply.
“Can you go to Conner’s old neighbor Gary’s to get Pickles? Remember, he’s the one from a couple doors down. Green shutters, blue door? I want Pickles home when Conner gets home.” He says.
“Of course, I’ll pick up, elephant cat, tonight. Can you give Gary a call and let him know to expect me? I met him and his daughters once when I was at Conner’s, he should remember me.” I say. I pick up Morgan first and head that way. “Probably a half hour or so, if that’s okay? If not, just text me and I’ll go whenever is convenient for him. Just let me know.” I say. I tell him to tell Conner I’m thinking about him and that I’m glad he’s feeling better. He tells me he will and promises to behave tomorrow when I introduce him to Morgan so I tell him I love him and I’ll see him later. He does the same and we end the call. Putting the phone in my cup holder, turning on the radio and backing out my truck; I head to pick up Morgan.
Chapter 12: Morgan
“You didn’t have to come out, I would have come to the door and collected you like a proper gentleman and shit.” Kingsley teases when I hop into his giant, extended cab, too big of a truck. I guess being a person of his size, he would need something so enormous that makes it next to impossible for us short guys to jump up and down from.
“Charming.” I say, smiling wide at him. I know I only saw him this morning, but I thought about him all day.
“How are you feeling? You look good.” He looks me up and down, taking in my hoodie, blue jeans and beanie. I look like I always do.
“I feel good.” I say, meaning it. I do feel good today, it’s Tuesday that will have me feeling like shit. I have three more radiation treatments to go through and another round of scans and tests before surgery after Tuesday, but hopefully I’ll have more good days than bad.
“Good.” He says, backing out of my driveway. I can’t believe I’m going to stay with him at his house. I’ve never had a sleepover at a guy’s house before. Not one that I’m romantically involved with, that is. “We need to make a little bit stop on the way, I promised Kayson I’d get Conner’s cat from the neighbors.” He says. I nod in acknowledgement. I was an animal person; more of a dog person, but I lik
ed cats too.
“I bet Kady’s going to love having a cat at your house.” I smile, thinking of the young Kennedy that has such doting brothers.
“Oh, shit. I didn’t think about that. She’s a bit temperamental, I hope they get along.” He says looking worried about the possibility.
“I’m sure they’ll be okay; most cats are pretty laid back.” I offer.
“Yeah, but… Pickles isn’t like other cats.” He shudders and I worry about what that means.
“The cats name is Pickles?” I laugh. “That’s cute!”
“We’ll see if you say that, when you see her.” He chuckles, reaching over and grabbing my hand. As always, his hand is warm as it envelops mine. I seem to stay cold, now days and my fingers are frozen even though he’s got the heat kicked on high in the cab.
“Your hands are cold, baby.” He notices, giving my fingers a gentle squeeze. “There’s a pair of leather gloves in the glovebox, you should put them on.” He worries.
“It’s okay, it’s not too bad; my fingers and toes just stay cold now for some reason. The heat feels good, I’m not cold.” I tell him honestly. I mean, my fingers and toes are but the rest of me is pretty toasty.
“You sure? I don’t want you to be cold.” He says, glancing over at me, brows furrowed in concern. This is why I’m so crazy about him already; he’s so caring and sweet, I love that about him.
“I’m okay. Promise.” I say, leaning over the console and kissing his cheek in gratitude. I feel grateful that he cares; it wouldn’t have been something Stephen would’ve worried about. Not that he wouldn’t care, he just wouldn’t have picked up on it. If it wasn’t work related, he didn’t notice much of anything else.
“Well, they’re in there if you change your mind.” He says. A few minutes later we’re pulling into a driveway of a smallish looking townhouse. It looks newly painted and has green shutters and leaves of all different colors, raked into a nice pile in the yard.