“May I use your bathroom, Mrs. Jameson?” Star asks.
Mrs. Jameson leads her down the hallway and then bustles back into the room. She stops in front of me. “Josh,” she says, and I immediately stiffen. It’s the same tone she used before she gave me and Lilly the condom talk. And the same voice she gave us when she wanted to be really serious. “I’m disappointed in you.”
My gut twists. “I know.” I look down at the floor. I think about it every day, what I did.
“You shouldn’t have returned the letters. You should have read them.”
I startle. “What letters?”
“The letters I gave to your mother. She sent them with your care packages, but you sent the letters from Lilly back every time. I don’t know how you could have done such a thing.”
I never got any letters. “You sent letters?”
Her eyes narrow at me. “Every month. Every holiday. Birthday cards. You didn’t get any of them?” Suddenly, the realization hits her. “She didn’t send them to you, did she?”
I shake my head.
“Your mother always was a strange bird,” she says. She heaves a sigh.
“That’s one way to put it.” I scratch my nose. “I never got any care packages. Or letters. Or anything. I haven’t heard from my parents since they sent me away. I haven’t heard from anyone at home until you called me.”
She taps her finger on the table. “Then I’m glad I finally found you.”
“You sent me letters? Really?”
“Your mother said she sent you care packages every month. I suppose she lied about that too.”
“Too?”
She blows out a heavy breath. “Never mind.”
“How is Lilly?” I ask.
“Lilly is happy,” she says. She covers her hand with mine. “I know you think you ruined her life, and I probably thought that a time or two myself, but it’s not true. Lilly is who she is. We play the cards we’re dealt. It’s about all that we can do.” Her eyes stray to my chair. “Are you all right?” she asks. “Truly?”
I nod. “I have a good job. Wonderful friends. My life is finally on the right track.”
“And Star?” she asks, her eyes twinkling at me.
“And Star,” I say. I don’t go any deeper than that, because I have no idea yet what Star is to me.
“Lilly has a boyfriend too,” she says. She laughs. “She met him at her day program. She’s in love.” Tears well up in her eyes. “I never thought I’d say this, but he’s perfect for her.” She covers my hand with hers. “If she can’t marry you, he’ll do. You always were my favorite. Still are.” She pushes a plate of cookies toward me. I wave them away. “Lilly’s in her room. Go and say hello.” She nods her head in that direction. “I’ll keep Star company.”
I sit for a long moment, prolonging the inevitable.
“Go,” she says sharply. “Now.”
“Yes, ma’am.” I smile at her, but inside my gut is roiling.
I know exactly where Lilly’s room is. I roll in that direction, and stop in her open doorway. I knock softly. Lilly looks up from where she’s working at an easel, and she smiles at me, and she looks so much like sixteen-year-old Lilly did that my heart does a somersault. I don’t know what I expected, but it’s like time has stood still.
“Hey Lilly,” I say.
Her arms flail and she makes some grunting noises. I take it as an invitation, even though I’m not sure what it is. I roll over toward her and she leans in my direction. She points with her crooked finger at her lips.
Lilly used to have this thing she did every time she saw me. She would point at her lips and then wait for me to kiss her. She’s doing it now, and she’s looking at me and waiting, blinking her green eyes. I don’t know what to do. I look toward the doorway, hoping someone will be there to guide me. But no one is. She points to her lips again and I roll closer. I touch my lips to hers quickly, and she sits back and smiles at me. She holds up a picture she was drawing. Lilly always did love art.
“What are you working on?” I ask her.
She smiles her crooked smile at me and I have to tear my eyes away to look at the paper.
“Wow, look at that. This is really good, Lilly,” I tell her. And it is. It’s an abstract painting with vibrant colors and mismatched shapes that somehow go together.
She grins and flails her arms as I exclaim over her picture. She drives her motorized wheelchair across the room and gets a portfolio. She sets it in front of us on the table and opens it up.
Time ceases to exist. It’s like we have never been apart. Lilly is still Lilly. I’m still Josh. Our circumstances are different, but inside we’re the same. I need to stop looking at what Lilly can’t do, and look at what she can. She’s a talented artist. She has a boyfriend and her life went on, just like mine did. I’m doing her a disservice by assuming that she’s unhappy. She’s alive. She’s happy. She smiles at me and taps her lips and I kiss her quickly.
“Your boyfriend is going to be jealous,” I tease.
She laughs and waves an arm in the air.
I take her hand. “Do you hate me, Lilly?”
She blinks hard and I realize her eyes are filling with tears. But she doesn’t take the tissue I offer her. She squeezes my hand and shakes her head. She makes a noise.
“She doesn’t hate you,” Star says from the doorway. I look over and find her standing there, and a tear courses down her cheek. She swipes it away.
“How do you know?” I ask.
Star sticks out her hand. “Hi,” she says. “I’m Star.”
Lilly can’t grip, but she does stick her hand in Star’s.
“It’s nice to meet you,” Star says. “I’ve heard a lot about you. Josh talks about you all the time.”
Lilly beams.
Star cups her hands around her mouth and whispers playfully at Lilly, “I can’t hate him either. He’s too damn sweet for that.”
Lilly nods and her hand falls on top of mine. She gives me a crazy pat like she agrees. If there’s anyone who deserves to be hated, it’s me.
“Can I see your art?” Star asks.
Lilly opens her portfolio and Star sits down on the other side of the table, and they look at it together, almost forehead to forehead. I like that Star doesn’t talk to her like she’s disabled. I like that Star doesn’t act like Lilly’s less than she is. I like…I just like Star.
Lilly rings a bell and Mrs. Jameson comes into the room. “We’ll be right back,” she says, and she follows Lilly down the hallway.
When she rolls out of the room, all the breath whooshes from my body. “I was so worried,” I tell Star.
“I know.” She doesn’t reach for me or try to touch me. If she did, I’d probably fall apart.
“I don’t think she hates me.”
“I don’t think so either. She’s saying a million words to you with her eyes. You just need to listen.”
Lilly comes back and I can only assume that she went to the bathroom. Star goes with Mrs. Jameson back toward the kitchen.
Lilly points to the chessboard in the corner and raises her brows.
“You want to play?” I ask her.
She nods. It’s a jerky, uncoordinated move, but I get it. I shrug. “Why not?”
I set up the board, and she makes the first move.
Lilly and I used to play chess together all the time. She always trounced me. Every single time. What do I do now? Do I let her win?
But that quickly ceases to take my attention, because she makes a move and I realize that she’s playing exactly the way she did before her injury. Like a fucking shark.
“You’re still better than me at this,” I grumble. “How can that be?”
She smiles and taps her temple.
“I know. You’re smart. You always were. Except for that night when you got in the car with me.”
She freezes. Then she starts to shake her head.
“Lilly, I’m sorry,” I say. “I’m so sorry. I never told y
ou, but I should have.”
She shakes her head and reaches out to touch my cheek. She drags her knuckle across the teardrop tattoos under my eye.
“They’re for you. You and them. Three of them,” I tell her, because I never want to forget. I never want to be that stupid again. She cups my face with her hand and stares into my eyes. Then she leans forward and taps her lips. I kiss her. But when I would pull back, she holds my face and keeps me there, her lips against mine. She stays there until I crack. I snuffle against her lips as my throat clogs and my eyes fill with tears. I heave out a sob. “I’m so sorry, Lilly.”
She pulls me against her and I let her hold me, even though it should be the other way around. I should be doing everything to make her feel better. But I’m just taking from her. The same way I always have.
She pats my back and lets me sob on her shoulder for a minute. Then she sits back from me, snorts out a laugh, and hands me a box of tissues.
“You think that’s funny, huh?” I ask as I blot my face dry.
She jerks out a nod. Then she reaches over and pushes a chess piece.
“You just checked me?”
She laughs and slaps her knee.
“You little stinker,” I grouse, and I study the board. She’s going to win. And I didn’t let her.
She rubs her knuckle against the tattoo on my face again and looks at me, looking deeply. “What is it, Lilly?”
She smiles and shakes her head. Then she points to her heart and at me.
“I love you, too, Lilly,” I tell her.
She starts to set the chessboard up again and motions for us to play one more time. I can’t think of anything I want to do more. So I stay until dark. I stay all day. I check on Star a few times, but she helps Mrs. Jameson make cookies and they take a walk around the neighborhood while I play chess with Lilly. Mrs. Jameson enjoys having someone to fuss over and Star doesn’t seem to mind.
It’s a perfect day.
And then it’s over. Then I need to leave her. “Can I come and see you another day, Lilly?”
She jerks out a nod.
Lilly rolls into the kitchen behind me, and Star sits and talks to her while I speak to Mrs. Jameson. “Is there anything you need? Anything Lilly needs? Is there anything I can do for you?”
She pats my shoulder. “The only thing we need is for you to come back again. Don’t be a stranger.”
I nod. “I would love to come back.”
She grins at me. “And bring Star back with you. She’s something special.”
I look over at her and she’s deep in a one-sided conversation with Lilly. “Yeah, she is,” I say quietly.
“Are you going to see your parents while you’re here?”
I shake my head. “I don’t see any reason to.”
She heaves out a sigh. “You’re probably right.”
“Star,” I call. She looks at me. “Are you about ready to go?”
“Not yet. Lilly and I are sharing makeup tips.”
“Oh, well, carry on,” I say.
Mrs. Jameson takes a roast out of the oven just as a knock sounds on the door.
“That would be Lilly’s boyfriend,” she whispers at me. She opens the door and a man comes inside. “Traumatic brain injury,” she tells me quietly. He goes and kisses Lilly and my heart turns over a little. They’re happy. She’s happy.
Mrs. Jameson insists Star and I stay for dinner. After we eat, Lilly goes with us toward the door. She grabs for my hand and squeezes it. I look at her. “I’ll see you again soon, Lilly,” I tell her.
She jerks out a nod. Then she points at her heart again and then at me.
“I love you too, Lilly.” I kiss her on the cheek, since her boyfriend is there. Mrs. Jameson gives us a bowl full of homemade cookies and some sandwiches to take with us.
“I’ve missed you,” Mrs. Jameson says. “So glad I finally contacted you.”
“Me too,” I tell her. I kiss her plump cheek and she waves us out the door.
I am silent when we get into the car and Star doesn’t speak either. It’s almost like she knows I’m about to break. I feel like with one word, I might crack into a million tiny pieces. Like one word will shatter me.
We get back to the hotel and I go straight to the bathroom. I need privacy. It’s the only way I can think about what just happened. I close the door and lock it behind me.
Lilly doesn’t hate me. She still loves me. She’s all right. She’s happy.
I’ve been so focused on all I thought she didn’t have that I forgot to even consider the things she does.
She has a full life. She’s in love. She’s happy.
I feel like a fist has wrapped itself around my heart and is squeezing the very life out of me.
A knock sounds on the door and I hear Star call out to me. “Josh?”
I don’t answer. I can’t. But that was the one word that would break me, apparently, because I’m suddenly crashing and breaking and I couldn’t stop it even if I wanted to.
Star
I once saw a dog get hit by a car. When we came upon it, it lay on the side of the road. Emilio pulled over to help, even though he wasn’t the one who hit it. I’ll never forget the noises it made, and Josh sounds just as desperate. Just as helpless.
I can hear Josh on the other side of the bathroom door, and the sounds remind me so much of that poor, pitiful, wounded creature on the side of the road. I knock on the door. The noise stops.
“Josh?” I call.
No answer.
I knock harder. “Josh,” I call softly. “Can I come in?”
No answer.
“Josh?” I try again.
The lock pops but the door doesn’t open. Is that an invitation? I’m not sure.
“Josh?” I say quietly as I turn the handle and step into the room.
He stares at the floor¸ not looking up, not looking down, and certainly not looking at me.
“Are you okay?” I ask.
Suddenly, his eyes meet mine. There’s a world of hurt inside him, and my heart stutters at the emotion that’s pouring off of him in waves. But there’s more than just hurt. There’s heat. Lots of heat. My heart starts to beat right between my legs.
“Come here,” he says, his voice rough. He holds out his hand. “Please.”
My legs wobble, but I move toward him.
When I get close, his hand snakes out and wraps around my waist, and he draws me into his lap. He’s hard beneath my bottom, and he groans and buries his face in my neck. His lips touch my skin, and his teeth abrade the tender skin under my ear.
“I need you,” he says, right up next to my ear, and then he sucks my earlobe into his mouth and nibbles it with his teeth.
“You…need me?” I can barely take a breath.
He brushes his hand through my hair and turns my head so I have to look directly into his face. “I know you don’t love me, and I’m okay with that for now. I need you.” He growls low in his throat. “Can I make love to you?”
“Are you okay, Josh?” His lips hover over mine, almost touching but not.
He takes my hand and lays it over his heart. “I hurt,” he says, his voice cracking. “Make it stop. Please.” He closes his eyes tightly, like he’s praying. “Please, Star. Please make it go away.”
“Okay, Josh,” I whisper. He sags into me, deflating for a moment.
“I promise I won’t hurt you.” His eyes meet mine again. “I’ll make it good for you.” His eyes narrow. “Are you afraid?”
“Not of you,” I tell him. “I’m a little afraid of how much I want this, though.” Might as well be honest, right?
I stand up and unbutton my jeans. His eyes fall across me like a caress. “Let’s go to bed,” he says.
I shake my head. “No.”
He looks confused. “Why not?”
“I’m afraid I’ll chicken out.” My legs are shaking as I push my jeans and panties down and step out of them.
“I need to get a condom,” he says.
/>
God, I almost forgot condoms.
He rolls into the bedroom and picks up the small cooler that Paul and Friday gave us. He unzips it. “Do you want to pick a flavor?” He grins at me.
“Just a plain one, if you don’t mind.” I don’t necessarily need for his dick to taste like bananas. I watch as he pulls one out. “Put it on.” I nod toward his lap. He looks at me skeptically, but he lifts himself up and shoves his jeans and boxers down over his hips.
I know I had him in my mouth, but he looks so much bigger right now as he rolls a condom over his length and tugs it at the base until it’s snug and tight.
“We should use the bed,” he says.
I shake my head and climb into his lap, straddling him. My lower half is naked and his manhood notches into my cleft. I freeze.
“Breathe,” he says.
I do. Slowly, through my nose.
He smiles at me. “Slow down just a little,” he whispers as he skims his palms up my sides and lifts my shirt over my head. Then he unclasps my bra from behind and it falls away. I wrap my arms around his shoulders and hold him tight. “You’re shaking,” he says.
“I’m sorry,” I whisper.
He grips my hips and pulls me closer to him. I straddle his lap and my feet are almost on the floor. His dick bumps my clit, the latex slick against my wetness, and I like the feeling.
He takes my nipple into his mouth and my clit begins to pulse in time with my heartbeat, and my heart is beating fast, like the clackety-clack of a runaway train.
I thread my fingers into his hair and give it a tug, forcing his lips to mine. “I want you,” I say against his kiss.
“Put me inside you then,” he murmurs against my lips.
I reach between us and take him in my hand. He hisses out a harsh breath.
“I’m not going to hurt you,” he says. His eyes are closed, clenched tightly shut, just like they were when I walked into the bathroom a few minutes ago. Like he’s barely dealing.
“Open your eyes,” I tell him as I notch him against my opening.
“I’m not sure I can.” He holds me tight, his arms wrapped around my waist.
“I’m not going to hurt you,” I whisper.
He chuckles and it forces him a little deeper inside me. “Sorry,” he says. “Didn’t mean to do that.”
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