by Pepper Pace
She gave him a surprised look. “Oh no-”
“Sorry, Baby Girl. It’s the rule.” He helped her sit down and noticed that her shoes weren’t on. Kneeling in front of her he slipped them on and tied the laces efficiently. Damn, he had a big neck, she thought in admiration. She liked her men on the thicker side…what?! Stop it, she chastised herself.
“Ready?”
“You wouldn’t believe how.”
***
At his truck Nicole wondered if she had left any permanent stains on the seat. She’d have the car reupholstered if she had. No matter if it cost her two months salary! She was pleased to see when he helped her inside that the seats were sparkly clean. She didn’t mention it.
He pulled her seat belt on, careful about the injured shoulder then he quickly hopped in.
The drive was silent for the most part although Marty periodically glanced in her direction.
She noted that he was taking a strange route to her apartment. He pulled up in the driveway of a condo—a nice one.
“Where’s this?” She asked.
“My place.” He got out of the truck and opened her door. She looked at him in confusion and then took his offered hand and climbed out of the truck.
“What are we doing here?” Marty took her arm and led her up the walk.
“You’ll see.”
Oh please, don’t let this be some surprise welcome home party. With all the activity of leaving the hospital, her head was starting to ache. Reluctantly she allowed herself to be guided inside.
Marty’s home was very nice. And there was no one in sight. She looked at him confused. Silently he led her into a living room decorated comfortably in muted earth tones. He helped her sit down in an oversized armchair and then he sat on the sofa across from her.
“You’re staying here.”
The expression on Nicole’s face spoke more than words ever could. He continued quickly before she could object.
“Now, I’ve thought about this Nicole. You can’t be by yourself these first couple of days. Someone needs to change your bandages-“
“Marty, I can’t-“
He stood up. “Yes. You can. I’ve made up the spare room for you-“
She was shaking her head, which wasn’t a good idea with the intensifying headache. “I appreciate it Marty. I really do! But-”
He kneeled on his haunches in front of her and touched her hand. Reluctantly he spoke the words that he had hoped he would not have to. “Nicole, you don’t realize how close you came to dying. I didn’t want the doctor to dwell on that with you because I didn’t think it would help you to know.” His expression grew apologetic. “I had to pretend to be your…boyfriend in order to get any information out of him.” He sighed. “Baby…your head shattered. They want you wearing a helmet for 3 weeks just so that if you fall you won’t…”
What the fuck?! Nicole’s mouth opened and then closed, heart thudding in her chest anxiously. “What?”
Marty licked his lips just sick at having to tell her this…and at the look of fear on her face. “I don’t want to scare you. But your skull fractured.” He shook his head then looked at her carefully. “You could black out, or have a seizure—and if you should fall, and hit your head…”
Nicole reached up to rub her throbbing head. Her mind was trying to grasp the information that he had just told her. The doctor had mentioned that her skull had fractured—but nothing about this…she closed her eyes as sharp, pains shot through her skull. Each beat of her heart seemed to amplify it. She was trying to reach up with her arm in the sling, not remembering why she couldn’t do it.
“Are you okay?” Marty asked.
“My head hurts…”
“You need to lie down.” He insisted.
“I’ll be okay…” She tried to tell him that she didn’t want to lay down anywhere except in her own bed, in her own apartment but she couldn’t think clearly enough to form the words.
“Nicole?” And then she was just staring into space like she’d been hypnotized.
Marty paled. “Nicole!” He waved his hand in front of her face. His heartbeat quickened. She was having a seizure.
Marty cursed the woman that had done this to Nicole for the millionth time. If the cops ever found the woman--old motherly type of not—she was going to be sorry!
In opposition to his rage, Marty gently lifted her into his arms and carried her upstairs. He lay her down in the spare bedroom, pulled her shoes off and carefully tucked the covers around her. Her eyes still stared into empty space; vacant but periodically blinking.
He watched her for a while wanting to do so much more to help her…How many times had he secreted looks at Nicole as they worked the back line together. Over the last few days, as she healed, he had been able to watch her to his hearts content, but there was no joy in seeing her broken up like this.
How could this be the same woman that had walked into the restaurant with wild curls held back by sunglasses and a beat up jeans jacket. He had scanned her form quickly, appreciating her height and well proportioned thickness. And he had thought that she looked enough like that actress from the movie Love and Basketball that he had taken a second look.
She was pretty in an understated way. No make-up, no jewelry, not even a purse. She walked through the door with her hands shoved into the pockets of her jeans and looked around warily. It was like her best friend had run off with the last of her money…that look in her eyes stayed with him long after he should have dismissed her.
Later, after he had hired her to work the backline, he had teamed her up with Fred knowing that she had already surpassed most of the people that worked for him by not whining, stealing or trying to fuck him. He also wanted her working the backline so that he could monitor that look; identify if it would disappear, if there was another expression that didn’t contain so much pain. There was.
Her smile.
Her smile was few and far in between. And one day Fred had whispered something to her and she had smiled and bells seemed to fall from her lips and it sounded like angel’s were laughing. He was not prepared for the stab of jealousy when that laugh was directed at Fred.
Marty shook his head to clear his thoughts and he realized that he was just standing there staring at her. He clenched his teeth. He was simply too angry to witness the effects of the accident on her. He turned to leave, closing the door softly behind him.
When Nicole awakened she had no idea where she was. It wasn’t the hospital because she was much too comfortable. She pushed a wonderful chenille blanket off of her and stood on shaky legs looking around her.
The room was fairly large; double bed, side tables, an armchair and a small antique dresser that had flowers and cards on it. Slowly she walked over to the dresser and sniffed the flowers. She picked up each card and read them smiling. They were from her coworkers wishing her a speedy recovery and addressed to Baby Girl.
She noticed two shopping bags on the floor and explored them curiously. They contained some of her clothes from home. When Marty had gone through her wallet he had also taken the key to her apartment. She shook her head in disbelief. Marty had gone to her apartment? It was thoughtful and disturbing all at the same time. Feeling somewhat violated, she slipped on her shoes. Where was Marty, anyway? Regardless of his good intentions, he was going to take her home now!
She went downstairs with a purpose but couldn’t help admiring his spacious home. He had a fireplace! This was nothing like her small little efficiency. Her face tightened. She wasn’t about creature comforts. She had a mission and that was to get educated and then paid. Once she fulfilled her vow to her daughter maybe then she could look at herself in a mirror again.
Briefly, Nicole closed her eyes. Alicia was a memory she did not allow herself to often enjoy.
Something smelled good and she felt her stomach grumble. She’d had slimy oatmeal at the crack of dawn and dried toast with a pat of congealed butter substitute on it. She went into the kitchen.
/> Wow! It was impressive! Marty was at the stove concentrating, much like he did when he was at work. He looked surprised when he saw her standing there. He moved a skillet from the burner and turned off the fire.
“How do you feel?”
“Better. My head stopped hurting…mostly.” She sighed.
“Sit down.” He said helping her to a barstool. “The headache must have been a trigger for the seizure.” She looked at him confused.
“What seizure?”
He stared at her with the same confused look absently fingering the small koko pelle that he always wore tied around his neck.
“Uhm…do you remember what we were talking about…before?”
“Yeah.” Her eyes were wide with the obviousness of that question. “About me going home.” Marty sat down on the barstool next to her.
“And?”
“She shrugged, “And what?”
“And how did you get from the living room to the bedroom?”
“I…” Nicole’s brow furrowed. How is it that she had never considered how she’d moved from talking to Marty in the living room to sleeping in the spare bedroom. As she tried to remember there was nothing there…just a blank spot in her memory. She looked at Marty, her chest moving up and down in confused panic.
“I was telling you-” He stopped short, not wanting to speak those hurtful words again. “You had a seizure and I took you upstairs.”
Nicole’s eyes were suddenly sharp and frantic. “I had a seizure?” She trembled. Seizure, seizure…she blacked out? Did that mean she was brain damaged? What if she blacked out at school, riding her bike, walking up the stairs…She couldn’t remember doing it…what other things was she forgetting? What if she forgot to turn off the stove-
Marty saw all of these thoughts cross her face. Nicole probably never realized that her thoughts played across her face like loud speakers and Marty always knew her mood; annoyed, tired, wishful…and very seldom happy. He placed a reassuring hand on her shoulder and she looked at him with frightened eyes. He swallowed back a desire to punch a wall.
“Nicole. You will be alright. Give yourself time to heal…and let somebody help take care of you, just for the time being. Baby, what if this had happened while you were alone?”
Her mind latched onto that word baby. It was different without the word Girl attached to it. He’d called her Baby…and it wasn’t the first time was it? Something about her head…
“Oh!” She gasped. The memory flooded back. Good or bad she now remembered. He had used the word shattered; had told her that if she fell it could cause her to…die.
Marty could see that she remembered as her body shuttered. Her caramel complexion suddenly colored red and tears appeared in her eyes. He pulled Nicole into his arms as she closed her eyes and cried.
Marty found himself planting kisses on her head. “I’m here. Sssh. It’s going to be okay.” Then he rocked her gently in his arms. “I’m going to take care of you. I promise.”
She was so tired; physically and mentally. For once in a long time she held onto someone else as if they were a lifeline. It had been so long since someone had comforted her. Marty’s arms were so big and protective. As gruff as he sometimes sounded, Nicole was beginning to understand that he was equally as harmless. She hid her head into his chest, inhaling the clean smell of his shirt, knowing that her tears were soaking through to his body. His lips gently pressed to her face as he murmured assurances. She gripped him, wanting to transfer some of his strength into her. She felt him tremble.
That brief tremble ignited a portion of her that had been too long dormant. Nicole felt a slow awakening throughout her body. It had been years since she had felt the yearning. She had thought that part of her was dead, but here were her nipples sensitive and engorged as she pressed against Marty’s chest.
Marty didn’t immediately realize how this had so suddenly turned. One moment he was trying to soothe her anguish. The next, all he could think of is the way her body felt in his arms as the sobs went through her. His hand stroked her back, recognizing her missing bra and once that happened he couldn’t help but feel her full breast as they pressed against his chest. Marty had always dealt with wafer thin women whose rib bones could be felt through their skin. It made him instantly erect at the feel of her full body beneath his hands. He was ashamed that he wanted to move his hands under her shirt and to cup her breasts and cover her mouth with his…
Nicole buried her face into that space between Marty’s neck and shoulder loving the delicious feel of his tender skin against her cheeks. He continued to shower her face and head with kisses, even while his breath came out in harsh gusts.
She yearned for him to kiss her lips; to feel his tongue and teeth and taste his soul. Nicole lifted her wet face to him and he stroked her tears away with gentle fingers…but he did not kiss her. Slowly she opened her eyes and stared at him. Marty.
Nicole jumped at what she was thinking, what she had just done. Quickly she slipped out of his arms, embarrassed at her actions. Why was she thinking like this? Before this week, she had never looked twice at the man. Now, it was all she could do to stop admiring his big tanned arms and his firm butt in his jeans. What was wrong with her!
Marty slid off the stool and walked back to the stove. Quickly, while his back was turned, she reached for a paper napkin and swiped her face and discreetly blew her nose.
Without turning to look at her until his breathing returned to normal, he efficiently began gathering plates and silverware. “You have to be starving.” His voice was light and casual even if he didn’t completely feel that way. He picked up the skillet and with a spatula placed the delicious smelling concoction onto two plates.
Nicole felt the fire between her thighs begin to fizzle and die away to be replaced with confusion and anxiety. She tried to think of something light and flippant to say in response to his question, but her stomach betrayed her by grumbling loudly.
“I take that as a yes.” He brought the two plates back to the bar and Nicole noticed that he kept his eyes averted, two red spots on his cheek as the only indication of what had happened. Nicole looked down shyly, only to see a monstrous omelet.
“Wow…that looks delicious, Marty.”
Marty dropped toast and then ladled up two big mugs of soup. “I hope you like tomato bisque.” He placed one of the mugs in front of her.
“Yum.” She nodded while looking into the mug of creamy goodness. “Is this canned or did you make this yourself?”
Marty’s eyes finally met hers. “Canned soup?” The look of shock on his face was not manufactured. “In my home?” His voice was incredulous. “Never!” Then he smiled and any residual embarrassment between them melted away.
“Taste it.” He said. And she didn’t have to be asked twice.
“Mmmm. Delicious.” He put toast on her plate and poured her an icy glass of tea then he sat down beside her and began eating, too.
Nicole glanced at him feeling a strange connection. He’d better be careful. She blinked. No. It was she that better be careful…
Nicole finished every morsel on her plate. “Very good.” She said while leaning back in the chair.
“You were hungry.”
She realized that she probably looked gluttoness. Truthfully, she had come from a place where if you were lucky enough to get a good meal then you ate it and remembered the time when there was no food…“Yeah. I’m not a small woman. I’m not one of those salad eaters.” She stood and gathered their empty plates and bowls despite Marty’s objections. She stacked them neatly in the sink.