Transcend

by Ann, Jewel E

  “The restroom is just down the hall.” I nod toward the door.

  “Okay. Um …” Her nose wrinkles.

  I try not to move, but Morgan kicks and coos with delight. I’m sure she feels pretty great right now after getting rid of so much crap.

  “You’re already a mess, so I say you carry her to the bathroom and hold her while I wash her off.”

  “Fine. Let’s go before this mess gets any bigger.”

  Swayze nods, grabbing the diaper bag.

  “And stop laughing,” I say while picking up Morgan, letting the diaper fall to the changing pad.

  “I’m not laughing.” A giggle escapes before she can get the last word out.

  It’s a single bathroom, which is nice since no one else needs to see this mess. We manage to avoid running into anyone on our way.

  “Hurry up before she goes again.” I hold Morgan over the sink.

  “I have to let the water warm up a little.” Swayze shoots me a quick glance, still trying and failing at containing her amusement.

  She wets a wad of paper towels and quickly cleans the poop off Morgan.

  “I’ll bathe her as soon as I get her back home, but this is good for now.” She takes her from me.

  “Careful. She might not be done.” I stare at Morgan’s naked backside as Swayze hugs her to her chest.

  Swayze eyes my shirt. “I think it’s safe to say she’s on empty right now. I’ll go get a diaper on her and a new outfit. You should do…” she frowns “… something with that shirt.”

  “Ya think?” I smirk.

  When the door closes behind her, I unbutton my shirt and shrug it off. There’s no way this shirt will ever get worn again, but I spend the next five minutes scrubbing the hell out of it anyway. Since I don’t have a change of clothes, I attempt to dry it a little under the hand dryer so it’s not soaking wet when I put it back on.

  “We’re going to—” Swayze pushes open the door and freezes.

  It takes me a few seconds to figure out what has her in such shock. But when I follow the line of her gaze to my bared abdomen, I know.

  “Nate,” she says my name like I just broke her heart.

  I don’t move. Maybe I should cover up what’s caught her attention, but I don’t because I’d give anything to know what I believe is true.

  “Nate,” she whispers again like a desperate plea while inching toward me, letting the door close behind her, eyes focused on only one thing.

  I can’t blink. If the slightest bit of realization flashes in her eyes, I don’t want to miss it.

  Maybe I should put on my shirt, but I don’t.

  Maybe I should back away as her hand reaches out to touch me, but I don’t.

  Maybe I should say something—fucking anything—as her fingertips brush the heart-shaped birthmark on my abdomen, eliciting goose bumps along my skin, muscles hardening beneath her touch.

  But … I don’t.

  Her fingers don’t move from my skin as she closes her eyes.

  Remember … please … just remember …

  Her touch. Professor Albright said this girl is not my Morgan, but … what if she is? With one touch, I’m that young boy in love with his best friend. I’m that young boy standing in front of Daisy, watching her push back my unbuttoned shirt and tracing her fingertips over my birthmark.

  One touch has just erased twenty-one years.

  One touch has just erased everything my analytical mind can comprehend.

  “You feel it?” She opens her eyes and meets my gaze, but all I can see is pain and confusion.

  I can’t speak, so I give her a slight nod.

  “Why?” she says on a breathless exhale.

  Because you’re my best friend. Because not even death could separate us.

  “I don’t know.” It’s all I can say because I don’t understand it, so I can’t explain it. I can name every part of the body, recite the stages of human development, DNA, the life-saving abilities of stem cells … so many miraculous things that make up the human species. But this I can’t explain. Nor can I deny the existence or truth of whatever this is.

  There’s a knock on the door.

  Swayze jumps back. “Donna is watching Morgan.” She shakes her head like she’s trying to clear her mind. “I-I just came to tell you we’re leaving.”

  I slip on my damp shirt and start to button it. “Thank you for bringing her.”

  We don’t look at each other.

  “We’ll see you later.”

  I nod, staring at my hands as I button the button next to my birthmark.

  The door clicks shut behind her.

  “Fuck …”

  *

  I message Swayze to tell her that I’m going to be later than expected. After two solid hours of watching live video feed of her and Morgan, I click out of the screen and actually get some work done. It occurs to me that by this point it’s not necessary to monitor them. I’m not. Now I’m just being creepy as fuck and watching her. Wondering what she’s thinking. Waiting for her to light up with some grand ah-ha moment.

  By the time I arrive home, silence fills the house. Swayze has dozed off in the recliner chair with a sleeping Morgan nestled on her chest. I take a seat on the sofa and watch them some more. It’s crazy how for years every girl with blond hair and brown eyes reminded me of Daisy, but when I met Swayze at Dr. Greyson’s office, I didn’t think of Daisy. Now all I see is her.

  Some days I swear her eyes are brown instead of blue.

  “Watching me sleep is kinda creepy.” She opens her eyes and grins. “I’m supposed to be the creepy one, not you, Professor.”

  Professor. She calls me Nate when she’s vulnerable, Nathaniel when she’s nervous, and Professor when she wants to pretend we’re nothing more than employer and employee. I knew everything there was to know about her then … and I’m going to know this new version of my best friend. She’s the distraction I need. A gift.

  “Tell me about your family.”

  I hold her gaze even as her eyes narrow. I may be a different person to her, depending on her desire to deal with the past, but she’s so much more than a nanny. And now that I know that, I can’t pretend it’s anything but a fucking miracle.

  “My family?”

  I nod.

  “Well, you know my dad died of a heart attack. He was a CPA for almost thirty years. My mom is a product photographer. She’s worked for several large companies over the years while trying to balance her career with raising me. I’m not sure she’s taken her camera out of its bag since my dad died.”

  Swayze shakes her head. “She said she needs to decide ‘what’s next’ in her life. But I think she’s afraid she’ll see him through the lens of her camera. He was the one who convinced her to pursue her passion. He bought her first camera. She took a gazillion rolls of film, all of him, before digital. It’s crazy how many photo albums she has, all of my dad. He was handsome, even when he started to lose his hair. She was—is beautiful. I like to imagine they had a passionate relationship before they had me. I just never saw that kind of love.”

  “Grandparents?”

  “Yes. All four are still alive. My mom’s parents live just outside of Chicago and my dad’s parents live here in Madison.” She presses the home button on her phone on the arm of her chair. “I have to go.”

  “Of course.” I take Morgan from her; she doesn’t even make a noise. The outing to my office and big blowout must have exhausted her. “Thanks again for bringing her to see me at work today. My colleagues really enjoyed seeing her.”

  “Even Donna?” Swayze gives me a suspicious grin as she grabs her bag and walks toward the front door.

  “Even Donna.” I chuckle. “I should give her some money for a new shirt. It’s probably ruined … like mine.”

  Swayze’s gaze drops to my shirt, but I know she’s not thinking about the shirt; she’s thinking about my birthmark.

  “It’s not shaped like a heart. More like a banana.”

&nbs
p; Her eyes shoot up to mine, confusion all over her face.

  “My birthmark. The only person who thought it was shaped like a heart was Daisy.”

  She nods slowly, but I don’t detect any real understanding.

  “Just like Daisy was the only one who knew about me cheating on that Spanish test.”

  Swayze twists her lips and continues to bob her head, but I have no clue what she’s thinking. It’s like watching the rainbow wheel spin on my computer with no results.

  “Well, don’t forget I have my doctor’s appointment Friday.”

  That’s it—nothing more than a spinning rainbow wheel. What would she do if I just told her? The words make their way to my mouth, but I can’t force them out. Instead, I smile and nod. “I can work from home Friday. If you need all day, that’s fine too.”

  “Okay. I’ll let you know. See you tomorrow.”

  “Goodnight.”

  I watch her until she gets to her car. When she turns to give me a final wave, I return a quick wave and close the door. She may be right. My staring is getting a little creepy. After laying Morgan in her crib, I collapse onto my own bed, rubbing the tension from my temples as my thoughts drift back to twenty-one years earlier.

  *

  Nathaniel Age 15

  “Daisy,” I whispered while my shaky fingers unbuttoned my wrinkled dress shirt.

  The cracked window let in a soft breeze, but the humidity hung heavily in our house that had been without air-conditioning for over a week. Crickets sang in the distance, but the pounding of my heart nearly drowned them out.

  “I’m so sorry about your uncle.” A tear splattered on my hand, but it wasn’t mine. It was hers.

  The man who inspired me to play hockey died, and I hadn’t shed a single tear. Daisy had enough emotion for the both of us. She eased my shirt off my shoulders. It fell just below my waist, holding onto my wrists.

  “Don’t cry.”

  She shook her head and swatted at the emotions before they got away again.

  “I don’t want to do this if you’re not ready.”

  Her lips pressed to my neck as her hands ghosted down my stomach. Dropping her chin, she watched her finger trace my birthmark. “I love this heart. I think it’s where cupid hit you with his arrow just as I stepped on the school bus that fateful day.”

  I chuckled. “Except I’ve had it forever.”

  She traced it again and the promise of what was to come, mixed with her warm hands on my naked skin, had me harder than I had ever been in my life.

  “I guess you were always meant to be with me,” she murmured with a voice as shaky as my hands.

  “We don’t have to do this.” I kissed the top of her head and closed my eyes. “It feels like grief sex—sympathy sex.”

  She shook her head with her chin still dipped toward her chest. I wondered if she was looking at my birthmark or my erection tenting my dress pants.

  “Maybe you should save this for your real boyfriend.” Only an idiot in love with a girl who was too good for him would try to talk said girl out of having sex with him for the first time. An untimely case of the nerves left me babbling because I respected Daisy and her parents, but I also wanted to give her everything she wanted. Not having a dime to my name left very little for me to offer her, but when she asked me to take her virginity, I said yes.

  Young.

  Stupid.

  Impulsive.

  Completely in love.

  She giggled and looked up at me while her hands worked on removing my belt. “My real boyfriend will want to be with a girl who knows what she’s doing. And since I suspect you’re a virgin too, I bet your real girlfriend someday will be happy that you figured stuff out with me first.”

  The words that came out of her mouth were a hundred times more confident than the nervous hands trying to unfasten my pants. We were nothing more than jittery teenagers attempting to act like grownups.

  “I love you.” My hands framed her face. I honestly can’t remember if that was the first time I said those three words to her. My mind had thought them a million times. But I wasn’t going to take something that I couldn’t return without her knowing that she wasn’t a conquest or a way to get rid of my virginity.

  She wet her lips then bit them together, but I could still see them quivering. “I love you too.”

  “We don’t have to do this,” I said as she got my belt loose and moved to the button of my pants. We had explored each other’s bodies, but never completely naked. It was easy to make out with her, slide my hands up her shirt or rub between her legs on the outside of her panties. Boundaries make it easier to relax and be in the moment, led by desire and curiosity.

  Taking away those boundaries made things pretty damn scary.

  “Do you have a condom?”

  I nodded as we both looked down at her hand inching down my zipper. If she didn’t hurry up, we weren’t going to need the condom.

  “Are you sure your parents won’t be back before we’re done?”

  Thirty seconds. A minute tops if I didn’t breathe and if I could get my mind to focus on death instead of the anticipation of seeing Daisy naked.

  “Yeah.”

  She glanced up. “Yeah they will or yeah they won’t?”

  I kissed her hard, not like two kids making out. I kissed her with purpose and urgency. My hands touched her over the material of the black dress she wore to my uncle’s funeral that day. We were too young to know what we were doing. Self-doubt crept in in a way it hadn’t done before.

  Was I touching her the right way?

  Was I touching her in the right spot?

  Was she scared?

  Would she like it?

  Would it hurt?

  Would there be blood?

  The most pressing question that danced in my head at that moment was would I come before I ever got inside of her?

  I unzipped the back of her dress. She stiffened.

  “What’s wrong?” I whispered after breaking our kiss.

  “Nothing.” She kissed my neck to cover up the lie.

  Nothing didn’t shake like a leaf.

  Nothing didn’t hold its arms close to its body to keep the dress from falling off.

  “We don’t have to do this.”

  She shook her head. “I want to. It’s just …”

  I pulled back to see her face. We were half committed to doing it. My shirt still hung from my arms and my pants clung to my hips, but just barely. Her dress made an attempt to fall off, but she hugged her arms to her chest to keep it in place. I imagined impatient hands tearing off clothes and naked bodies crashing together in a frenzy of desire. Apparently that only happened in movies or with adults who knew what they were doing.

  “It’s just what?”

  Daisy grimaced. “What if your parents do come home early? Or what if the condom breaks? Or what if I bleed and it gets on your sheets and your mom sees it? Or what if—”

  “Or what if we just don’t do it tonight.” I wanted it. Boy did I ever want it in the most painfully-aroused, heart-pounding, dick-ready-to-explode way.

  “Maybe we should think it through some more.”

  I nodded. Thinking it through wasn’t going to change anything. I was certain none of my friends had thought it through before losing their virginity. There was no intelligent, well-thought-out reason for two fifteen-year-olds to have sex. If we didn’t do it out of stupidity and out-of-control hormones, then we weren’t going to do it for a very long time.

  “Another night?” she said with a vulnerable smile.

  “Another night.” I nodded while trying to give her a reassuring expression.

  We put our clothes back on in awkward silence, sneaking the occasional peek which accompanied a guilty grin. And to prove God did exist and he was looking out for us, just as I buttoned the last button of my shirt, my newly-reconciled parents came home early.

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  It’s been five days since I’ve seen Griffin, a record fo
r our relationship. This is not the kind of record I’m trying to set. He’s been busy. I’ve been busy. His late-night invites to come stay with him or for him to come stay with me have been rejected by me. My head is all over the place. This obsession with Nate and his past requires nonstop thought. I haven’t slept well in weeks.

  My appointment with my doctor goes well. He doesn’t find any urgency to have a CT scan or MRI, but given my symptoms and Griffin’s concerns, he agrees to order some more tests for next week. The money my mom shared from my dad’s life insurance is dwindling, thanks to counseling and other medical expenses.

  After my appointment, I accept Nate’s offer to give me the whole day off. My apartment needs deep cleaning, my fridge needs restocking, and I could use a night out with someone who doesn’t know anything about my messed-up brain. So I invite Erica out for drinks.

  As I finish applying my makeup, my phone rings.

  “Hey, Griff.”

  “Hey, stranger.”

  I chuckle, but deep down I feel guilty for avoiding him this past week.

  “I’ve been waiting for you to call, but I’m running out of patience.”

  “Sorry, Griff, but you’d be proud of me. I went to the doctor today and he’s set up some more tests for next week, but he didn’t seem too concerned. He actually suggested I go back to seeing Dr. Greyson. And … I took the rest of the day off, cleaned my apartment, and went grocery shopping.”

  “Sounds exciting. So where are we going tonight? My mom wants us to stop by later, but we don’t have to stay long.”

  I hold still and talk slowly with him on speakerphone while I apply my mascara. “Can’t tonight. But I don’t work tomorrow so we can do whatever you want.”

  He laughs. It’s an odd laugh, a little disbelieving. “What do you mean you can’t?”

  “I’m going out with Erica tonight. I think I need some girl time to just get out of my head for a few hours. You know what I mean?”

  “Are you fucking kidding me?”

  I frown at my phone and the agitated voice speaking from it. “Wow, nice attitude. What crawled up your butt and died today?”

  Silence fills the bathroom, I glance down to see if we’ve been disconnected. “Griff?”