by K C West
“Me? I… uh… no comment.”
I laughed. “I’m talking about life in general. I’ve tried to please everyone by saying ‘yes’ too often, trying to be all things to all people.”
“Oh, I see.”
“You’ve learned to protect yourself by saying ‘no.’”
She smirked. “Probably too often.”
“Well—”
“But, you and the crew have helped me loosen up quite a lot, PJ.”
“It’s still okay to say ‘no’… and should we find ourselves getting together on a more permanent basis, I’m not going to try to change your basic nature.” I traced a heart across the widest part of her back and felt her shiver.
“And ‘should we find ourselves getting together on a more permanent basis,’ I would never try to dampen your spirit, PJ.”
“So, I’m extroverted and you’re introverted … and it’s okay.”
Kim’s smile was expansive. “We can say ‘maybe’…a lot.”
We laughed and I worked the muscles of her triceps and biceps, first on one arm and then the other. “You know, Kim, I’m glad you listen to all of my ramblings. I’ve admired the way you give folks a chance to talk no matter how crazy their ideas seem. It’s one of the many things I love about you.” I finished her massage and climbed off her back.
“I’m sorry, I know I shouldn’t have said the L word just then, but it’s how I feel, you know. I’ll give you all the time you need, but it won’t change how I feel about you. I love you, Kim.”
She didn’t respond.
“Kim?” I crouched beside her cheek. Her eyes were closed, her breathing steady.
I talked her right to sleep.
I’m better than a sleeping pill.
Do I wake her or let her sleep here?
I pulled the blanket from her bed and covered her up. “Sweet dreams, my love,” I whispered, ruffling her hair.
“C’mon Pup, let’s get you settled for the night.” He stood up and stretched, finishing up with a good shake. I took him outside for his nightly constitutional and then he resumed his sleeping position on the floor beside Kim. I filled his water dish, and put out all the lights but the one in the bathroom.
Well, I was supposed to sleep on the sofa. Where do I go now?
I looked at the dining area.
I’m sure that makes into some kind of sleeping platform, but I haven’t the faintest idea how.
After a few minutes of deliberation, I used the bathroom, unrolled my bedding on one side of Kim’s bed and pulled the zipper halfway down.
Notice that I am sleeping ‘on’ your bed and not ‘in’ it because I’ve not been invited…yet.
There were two pillows on her bed, so I borrowed one, taking time to breathe in its distinctive mango and pear scent, before I placed it at the top of my sleeping bag and crawled in. Sleep came quickly, but once during the night I thought I heard a throaty voice speak to me.
“Look who’s been sleeping in my bed,” it said. “Hello there, Goldilocks.”
But, I knew it was only a dream.
Chapter Twenty-One
“What the…” I awakened on the sofa, not in my bed … but the blanket was from my bed. What’s going on here? It must be the medication. The interior of the motor home was dark, except for the fading light of the waning moon. Other than Pup’s deep breathing, all was quiet. Everything was normal.
Slowly the awful events of the day before came into focus. It was hard to believe they really happened. It was a dream … that’s all, a bad dream. I wanted to believe it was a dream, but it wasn’t. I knew that.
I rolled onto my side but was stopped in mid movement by a searing pain shooting through my shoulder and neck. I remember now … re-injuring this darn shoulder … just what I didn’t need to have happen.
Then I remembered PJ massaging my shoulder and back.
That wasn’t a bad dream … it was a most pleasurable experience.
But I must have fallen asleep, PJ, while you … then you left… without saying goodnight… why?
I told you you could stay here … I thought you understood. But, I guess, under the circumstances you would have felt uncomfortable. Or would you? You seemed confident enough in expressing your love for me. I’m the one treading on eggshells.
I kicked the blanket to one side and swung my legs over the side. The floor was cold. I hadn’t turned on the heat last night… hadn’t needed to.
I sat on the side of the sofa bed, rubbing my shoulder. I was stripped from the waist up, but still in my sweat pants.
Of course, PJ, you had me strip off my top so you could massage me. Darn you anyway, you’re such a little devil, teasing me like that because I was reluctant to strip in front of you. Things have changed, don’t you understand that? Things are different now that you’ve told me you love me. And then, when you giggled and said you wouldn’t look … but that massage … oh, how that made up for the embarrassment.
I stood up, stiff from lying in one position. My shoulder ached like hell. I suppose I’ll have to swallow another one of those horse pills.
Where did you go, PJ? If you left and went to Mesa I’m going to scold you but good. I smiled to myself. Scolding you would be like tickling a killer whale with a hummingbird feather.
I snickered at my own silly thought and pulled on my sweat top, still laying draped over the back of the driver seat. I winced when my shoulder complained.
Well, now that I’m up I might as well stay up. Off to the bathroom … prepare to face the day.
The door from the bathroom to the bedroom was open and that’s when I saw PJ in her sleeping bag and stretched out on one side of my bed.
“Look who’s been sleeping in my bed,” I said, leaning against the doorframe. When she didn’t respond, I walked around the bed and stood over her. “Hello there, Goldilocks.” No response.
Poor dear, you’re exhausted. You were so busy yesterday trying to take care of everyone else, including me, and not paying one bit of attention to your own shocked system.
I sat down on the edge of the bed next to her. She looked so peaceful. Her mouth was open just enough to allow small sounds to escape unhindered. Her sleep-tousled hair framed her face, a golden halo in the fading moonlight.
I had to pee so I left PJ’s side and went into the bathroom, sliding the door between the bedroom and bathroom closed as quietly as I could, and opening it again when I was through. I hoped the flushing of the toilet or my running water to wash my hands had not disturbed her.
Gawd, this shoulder … where the hell are my pills? I went into the kitchen and found them where I had left them, on the counter. Damn these childproof caps anyway. I finally pried it open and choked one down with a half glass of water.
I grabbed my blanket off the sofa bed and returned to the bedroom where I stretched out alongside PJ. She moaned but did not awaken.
I doubt, PJ, that this is your image of our first night of sharing a bed.
I lay on my back with my head turned toward PJ. I watched her as she slept and was so tempted to cuddle up to her and take her in my arms, but I knew if I did there would be no turning back. If I kissed her, I would make love to her. It was that simple. I shivered, not so much from being cold, but from the desire that spread through my body.
I turned my back to PJ and lay in the dark, listening to her even breathing. Thoughts jumbled together in my mind … thoughts of wanting PJ and grieving for the loss of my Amazons.
After all that hard work and all those years—
But, I accomplished what I had started out to do. I had found the Lost Tribe. My efforts had been rewarded.
And, PJ, I met you. How that will pan out though is yet unknown.
I must have fallen into a stuporous sleep because when I awakened it was full daylight. PJ’s sleeping bag was folded neatly on the foot of the bed. I touched her pillow. It was cool so she had been up awhile. The door between the bedroom and bathroom was closed.
I sat up on
the edge of the bed and peered through the window. A dirty, yellow haze hung in the air, dust disturbed by yesterday’s earthquake had not yet settled. It would be several days before we would see clear skies again.
I looked around my bedroom, my inner sanctum. It was small, claustrophobic to some, I supposed, not that I had ever had guests. Not until PJ, that is. I chuckled when I thought of her sleeping on the top of my roomy, queen size bed. The room was all bed with its two small nightstands, and two equally small closets. I shivered. It was cool even though the sun was up.
I toyed with the idea of using a heating pad on my shoulder. Better not … it might increase the inflammation. I couldn’t stand ice so that wasn’t an option.
I tried to see the bedroom through PJ’s eyes. The sidewalls were mostly window leaving little space for pictures. The overhead cabinets had mirrored, lift-up doors, which gave the illusion of space to the ceiling only. There was a small TV in a specially built alcove close to the ceiling. I hadn’t used it in years and wondered if it even worked any more. I thought about my ranch in New Mexico and longed for its rambling interior. I had bought it with the thought of eventually being semi-retired and spending my time writing and guest teaching. I wondered if PJ would be happy living in a sprawling ranch house at the foot of the Sangre de Cristo Mountains. What am I thinking?
I got up and knocked on the bathroom door but got no answer. I slid it open a couple of inches, just enough to make sure PJ wasn’t inside. I did not want to walk in on her taking care of personal matters.
I walked through and slid open the door into the kitchen. PJ was seated at the dinette hunched over a stack of papers. I glanced at the counter and sink. There was no evidence that she had eaten, but there was a used teabag lying in the miniature teapot shaped teabag holder.
PJ didn’t hear me approach and was startled when I walked up behind her and touched her shoulder.
I stepped back. “Good Morning.”
“Gawd, you scared me.”
“I’m sorry.” I sat down on the hide-a-bed, which had been folded back into its sofa position.
“No need to apologize,” PJ said, turning so that she faced me. “I’m jumpy that’s all, you know, the quake and everything. I think it’s just now catching up to me … the enormity of what has happened to us, all of us … you and me and the students….”
“Yes, it’s changed the course of all our lives, that’s for sure.”
PJ looked fresh and rested, yet older somehow, as if the events of the day before had filled several pages in her Life Journal.
“Kim, I can’t begin to know how painful it must be for you. I’m so sorry. You’ve lost something that has been so much a part of you for so long. Those Amazon women were here one minute and gone the next.”
“It hurts all right, but in a way it ended the way it should have. Marna and Leeja are together forever and their friends are close by … it’s a fitting ending to their saga and our expedition.” A lump formed in my throat.
“Your expedition Kim. You always believed you’d find them and you didn’t give up until you did. I was just a late comer to the project.” She smiled. “I’m proud though that I had some part in it, however small.”
“You were there when it counted, PJ.”
I glanced again toward the kitchen counter. “You haven’t eaten?”
“I wasn’t hungry, but I had a cup of tea.” She picked up her now empty mug and saluted me with it.
“How long have you been up?”
She glanced at her watch. “An hour or so.”
“Then I’ll fix us some breakfast,” I said, getting up from the sofa.
“Wait!” PJ stood got up and pushed me down, taking care not to touch my shoulder. “You stay put. By the way how’s the shoulder this morning?”
“Truth?”
“Of course the truth. Why else would I ask?” There was a note of impatience in her voice.
“It hurts like hell.”
“Did you take a pill?”
“Yes I did, but they don’t do much except to make me groggy.”
“I’ll fix breakfast.” She gave me a lopsided grin. “And try not to poison the both of us.”
I looked at her. Aren’t you going to mention, PJ, that we shared a bed…?
“It’s the least I can do after sleeping in … on your bed.”
I squirmed. “Are you reading my mind or what?”
“Were you thinking about that, too?”
Here it comes, the smart-ass remarks, the making light of a serious situation.
“Yes and no.”
PJ tapped my forehead with two fingers. “Can’t be both … it’s either yes or no.”
“Well, yes. We can’t ignore the fact now, can we?”
PJ shrugged. She turned and began rummaging through my kitchen cabinets.
“What are you looking for?”
“Pancake mix. Do you have any?”
“Top left.”
“Got it.”
“Measuring cup and mixing bowl?”
“Lower shelf on the right.”
After putting the teakettle on to heat, PJ measured some of the powdered batter into the bowl.
She stopped momentarily and turned to face me. “You’d prefer, wouldn’t you, to ignore the fact?”
“That we slept together … well, we have to talk about it, PJ. We’re beyond ignoring it.”
“I wouldn’t call it sleeping together,” PJ said, handing me a cup of steaming tea. “I found some English Breakfast blend.”
“Thank you.” I reached for and caught her hand. “I’m struggling with my feelings, too, but there’s no sense dancing around the issue.”
“Don’t tell me that the great Doctor Blair has feelings….”
I let go of her hand. “That’s not fair.”
She shook her head and pinched the bridge of her nose. “No it’s not, Kim, and I’m sorry.”
“Go fix the pancakes,” I said, dismissing her.
She stared at me for a moment, sighed, and turned her attention back to the mix. She measured the right amount of water and beat the mixture into a smooth batter. “I’m not a great cook so I can’t promise that my pancakes will be anything more than acceptable, maybe not even that, but since I’m doing it out of …um …deep friendship, I don’t want to hear any complaints, okay?”
I sighed. “PJ.”
“Yes, Kim.” Her attention was focused on ladling the mix onto the griddle.
“We need to talk seriously about our future, but first, we have a job here to finish.”
She nodded. “I know. We’re not through yet. We have reports to complete and we have to go back to the site and salvage whatever we can.”
“Are you up to doing that today?”
“Going to the site …” PJ put a plate of pancakes in front of me. “…sure, it’s okay with me, but how about you … your shoulder?”
“I’d just as soon do it.” I poured on enough maple syrup to drown any self-respecting pancake.
PJ smiled. “Are you trying to disguise the look and taste of my lovely pancakes before you’ve even tasted them?” she asked, sliding onto the seat across from me, loaded plate in hand.
“No. I always slather my pancakes.”
“Oh. Well, that’s good.” She picked up her napkin with a smirk.
We were both hungry and didn’t waste any time clearing our plates.
Before leaving the motor home we packed a couple of apples and some cheese in foil baggies and loaded them into our day packs. We loaded Pup’s pack with his food and water, filled two water bottles apiece for us and headed out the door and into the Tracker. Pup bounded into the back and took his place with his head between the front seats. I reached back to pat his head before starting the motor. Pup was a good traveler. It would be distracting to me, the driver, to have an animal pacing in the vehicle. I snickered. Of course with Pup being so large and the Tracker so small, pacing would be out of the question.
At the trai
lhead, we clipped the water bottles to our belts, fastened Pup’s pack in place, and slung our day packs onto our backs. Well, PJ slung her pack … I wasn’t able to sling anything so I put mine on gingerly. The pack, though light bothered my shoulder. I didn’t let on about it though because PJ would have insisted she carry my stuff along with her own and I wasn’t about to let her to do that. As it was she was already carrying extra stuff, like the small folding fire shovel she had found in the Tracker and brought along. It was old and battered and had come in handy on many an occasion. I remembered that time when I was in New Mexico and driving along an old logging road … someone had carelessly tossed an empty bottle into the dry brush at the side of the road. The sun shining on the glass was enough to start the small fire that was just starting to flame when I came by. I was able to put it out with the help of my trusty shovel.
PJ walked half a dozen paces ahead of me. Pup loped along ahead of her, tongue hanging out and turning often to make sure we were following.
“I wish this dust would clear,” PJ said, stopping to drink some water.
I followed suit. The liquid, though no longer cold, was still cool from the refrigerator.
PJ dug into Pup’s pack, got his bowl and put some water from his jug into it. His slurping drowned out the excited twittering of the nearby Cactus Wrens.
She shook the bowl when he was done and stowed it back in his pack. I remembered how scared she had been of Pup when she first met him.
“PJ.”
“Yes, Kim.”
“I’m not procrastinating. We’ll talk, I promise you … it’s just that I have to wrap up this Amazon situation before I can focus fully on other things … personal things … you and I.”
“I didn’t say anything.”
“I know you didn’t, not now anyway, but I know you’re thinking—”
“I understand, Kim, and I’ll try to be more patient.” She coughed. “Damn, this dust is making my sinuses ache and my head feels tight.”
“I have some antihistamine in the motor home. Not much use here, I’m afraid, but if you still need one when we get back—”
“Okay. Thanks.” She grinned. “I’m sorry if I’m a little cranky, Kim. I’ve waited this long and I can wait a little longer. Besides I agree with you that we have enough to concentrate on just bringing the Amazon affair to a satisfactory conclusion.”