The Miracle Girl

by T. B. Markinson

  I was sure she was lying, but why lie about her son and husband going skiing? And where had she dropped them off? It was an hour and a half drive to the nearest slopes.

  “Breakfast would be lovely,” she said after a moment’s hesitation.

  “Is Olive Garden open this early?” I teased.

  Claire swatted my arm and immediately regretted it. “Oh, did I hurt your neck?”

  “Not one bit.” Nothing at that moment could hurt me. I felt ten feet tall and bulletproof with her standing next to me.

  “Good. Let’s take my car since it’s here. Not only are you a bad driver, but how can you check your blind spot if you can’t turn your neck.” Her demeanor showed she wasn’t looking solely for an excuse to take her car. She truly was alarmed by my inability to check my blind spot. Oh, if she only knew.

  I wanted to kiss her. How was I, the tainted Miracle Girl, head over heels with such a do-gooder?

  * * *

  We sat at a small table in a trendy breakfast place near my hotel. Claire crinkled her nose. “Really, you’re getting green chili chicken hash?” she asked after we placed our orders.

  “Yeah. Why?”

  “It just seems a tad heavy this early.”

  “Because biscuits and gravy are a super-light snack.” I winked at her.

  Claire laughed over her mistake. “I forgot you like spicy food.”

  “And I forgot you can’t handle pepper on a baked potato.” I fidgeted in my chair. The pills were starting to take the edge off the pain, but the stiffness wasn’t going away.

  “You always did like to live on the edge. Any more bear stories I haven’t heard?” Claire sipped her water, innocently batting her eyelashes.

  “Nope. No more bear stories. Do you remember that time in Honduras when you were convinced you were being chased by a snake?” I laughed. We’d gone to Honduras over spring break our sophomore year with her church youth group to build houses. “I can still see you running down the dirt steps screaming, ‘Kill him, JJ. Kill him!’”

  “You didn’t kill him.”

  “How could I? He slithered away so fast all I saw was a flash of his rainbow colors. He probably died of fright from all of your screaming.” I guffawed. “There have been many days when I’ve replayed that moment in my head. The way you jumped over that boulder, and then had to come to a skidding halt to avoid going over a hundred-foot cliff, all the while your arms flailing about like you were trying to fly away.” I shook my head. “All for a tiny, harmless snake.”

  “Harmless!”

  I pinned her with a knowing look.

  She smiled. “You should write adventure novels. Not manage a paper that’s dying.”

  “Dying … that seems a bit dire.” I tried to erase the agreement from my face.

  “You think you can save it?”

  I leveled my gaze and said with earnestness, “I’m going to do everything I can to save it.”

  “Good luck. Most of the staff doesn’t realize that we need to build up an online presence. They think our customers are eagerly waiting by their doorsteps each morning to read the paper. To feel it in their hands. To make that crinkling sound when they turn the pages.” She mimicked opening a paper and shaking it. “Say the word Twitter to them and they’ll stare at you like you’re speaking another language. They have no idea that most of our customers are getting old. Subscriptions are in the shitter. We can’t rely on the paper. We need to broaden our online presence.”

  “Shitter!” I laughed. The Claire I knew never swore, but I had noticed she was quite comfortable cursing these days. Being around newspaper people had corrupted my Claire. Of course she had no idea how stained I had become over the years. I did my best to hide that from everyone.

  “I’m scared. I have a child. I can’t lose my job.” Her voice cracked. “I watched the last team come in and wipe out half of the management jobs. One by one, someone would walk them out at the end of the day and tell them not to come back. They fired our top sales manager the day she signed a million-dollar account. It’s messed up. It was that day when I realized none of our jobs were safe.”

  I wasn’t sure how to respond. I knew all this, of course, and I knew the reasons behind it. That sales manager had been in cahoots with another paper and was trying to take all of her clients with her. I didn’t agree with all the decisions corporate made, but I knew I couldn’t divulge too much either. I was privy to information that Claire, or anyone at the Denver paper, wasn’t, and I couldn’t say that no one else would lose their job since I never made promises I couldn’t keep.

  “I’m sorry. I know the last guy who was here wasn’t very popular.”

  Claire snorted. “That’s an understatement.”

  I put a palm up. “Listen, we aren’t looking to fire people at the moment.”

  “At the moment … but it’s not off the table.” She tugged at her napkin, angrily.

  Claire’s face was tense and frightened. I wanted to reassure her. “Claire, I can’t make any promises, but I need you to trust me. I won’t do anything to …” I almost blurted I would never hurt her. That I would never let the company fire her. Was that true? I wasn’t the type to get involved personally when it came to work. That was one of the reasons they’d sent me here. I was an insider, yes, but not an impassioned one. But this was different. This was Claire.

  My Claire.

  Claire nodded her head like she understood the unspoken promise. “I’m glad you’re back. I’ve missed you. You’ve always been able to talk me off the ledge.” She let out a relieved sigh.

  She was always a nervous Nellie. Every finals week she would be on edge and insisted that I spend every waking hour with her to help keep her tranquil. Some nights she would fall asleep in my bed, saying she couldn’t sleep without my calming aura.

  “What are you thinking about?” she asked.

  “Finals week.”

  Claire blushed. “Oh, you were always so patient. I still remember when you sat outside my calculus final sending me positive thoughts. I swear to this day, that’s the only reason I passed. You always believed in me.”

  I shifted in my seat, and she gulped her water. Neither of us mentioned that she hadn’t believed in me that night. That last night.

  The waitress arrived with our meals. “Here ya go.”

  Claire eyed the jalapenos on my plate. “I’m getting heartburn just looking at them.”

  I forked one and popped it into my mouth, chewing with gusto.

  “You’re crazy, JJ Cavendish.”

  You’re beautiful, Claire, I thought. God, I wanted to scream this so everyone would know how much I loved the woman sitting across from me. Yet, I felt the tug of the past, and couldn’t.

  As we finished our meals, Claire motioned for the waitress to bring the check. I slouched back in my chair to relieve the pressure on my full gut, immediately regretting it when spasms of pain shot down the length of my body and back up to the original source. Instinctively, I cradled my neck.

  “Do you remember when you conned me into taking that massage class with you?” Claire looked at me confidently.

  I couldn’t stop the grin from transforming my entire face into pure ecstasy. “Uh, I plead the fifth.” I had begged her for days to take the class with me. It was my desperate attempt to get my hands on her body.

  “Yeah, right. Even back then I knew why.”

  “What does that mean?” I leaned closer to the table, anxious for the answer, but unsure how I would handle the news.

  “Oh, please. I knew from the moment we met that you liked me.”

  My laugh was loud and boisterous. “Liked you. My, my, my … you have a big head on your shoulders.”

  “Am I wrong?”

  “Not one bit.”

  Claire reddened. “Well, I do remember some things I learned in that class …” Her voice broke, and she didn’t complete her thought.

  “And?” I expected
Claire to say her husband benefitted greatly from it now. Or some dig along those lines.

  Claire didn’t respond, instead she pointed to me like that answered the question completely.

  “Are you asking me if I remember what we learned? Yes, I do.” Not that I’d had many opportunities to show off my massage skills lately. I hadn’t been with a woman in three years. Wow‌—‌that was a depressing thought. After kicking my addictions, I’d stopped sleeping around so much. According to my therapist, that was another of my compulsions I had to deal with.

  “No, you dope. Your neck. I can massage your neck for you.”

  Taken aback, I responded, “That’s very kind of you, but …” But what? All words slipped out of my brain.

  “Don’t be silly. You’re my boss, but we’re still friends. At least I hope we’re still friends.” Claire’s penetrating blue eyes were sensually low-lidded as she watched my reaction.

  I nearly shouted, “My hotel is right around the corner. Let’s leave the car. It’ll be faster.” Instead I said, “Of course we’re still friends.” I attempted to say her name without any meaning. I failed. I knew I spoke her name like a lover cherishing every letter.

  A mysterious look crossed Claire’s face, and I was certain I had blown my chance. Surely she was searching for the words to let me down easily and to say that maybe it wasn’t a good idea after all. No way should the two of us be alone in my hotel room. I hadn’t considered that Claire would invite me, her former lover, to her home. Not the home she shared with her son and husband. Only a hotel would suit the situation. Thinking this made me feel dirty, but not completely. Even after all these years I felt that I was meant to be with Claire. Claire was mine. Mine and mine alone.

  “Great. Let’s go,” stated Claire as the waitress placed the bill on the table.

  I snatched the bill and sashayed to the cashier, pulling my wallet out of my jeans pocket faster than a gunslinger in the Old West. I wasn’t going to give Claire any time to consider what could possibly occur.

  Sitting in Claire’s car, I pondered what would happen. Maybe Claire was only being kind. I was obviously in pain, and Claire was always a goody-goody. A helper. It was only a neck rub. Nothing more. I kept chanting this in my head, not wanting to get my hopes up.

  But the way Claire had looked at me when she opened the car door in the parking lot. The way she “accidentally” brushed her shoulder against me‌—‌that wasn’t Claire the goody-goody. That was Claire on the prowl. It was a new side to her that I found fascinating, thrilling, and goddamn confusing.

  Truth be known, I was praying this day would turn into more. Maybe not a roll in the hay, but a start. I wouldn’t be able to hang on much longer without her. At first, when I accepted the job, I felt confident I could live in Colorado again with Claire. It was a big state. Not as populated as New York, but more land. It was big enough for the two of us to live separately. Hell, I didn’t even think I’d run into Claire.

  My Claire. Oh, how I wish I could say that out loud. My Claire.

  Now I was in Claire’s car and we were heading to the hotel where Claire was going to massage my neck. It had to mean something, didn’t it? Or could fate be that cruel?

  I remembered all of my tortured years. The years being her best friend and nothing more. And then that night. One night of bliss, before we were torn apart for what had seemed like an eternity.

  Yes, fate could be a bitch. A fucking cunt.

  I let out a long, anguished sigh.

  Claire placed a hand on my thigh. “You okay? Is your neck that bad?”

  Her touch caused a wave of emotion in my body. A longing that never died in the past twenty-five years. As much as I tried to numb myself, that desire boiled underneath. Now I had to control it with her hands on my bare skin. Shit, maybe this was a bad idea. A horrendous idea that would crash and burn.

  I closed my eyes, focusing all of my strength on not placing my hand on Claire’s, which still rested on my thigh, and letting Claire know just with one touch how insanely mad I was with love and desire. “Yeah, it’s okay.”

  Claire didn’t remove her hand. Sitting at a red light, I fought the desire to stare at the hand. Devour it with my eyes. Memorize all the lines, creases, and blemishes. I forced my head to the passenger window and stared.

  Then I felt Claire’s hand squeeze my leg. “We’re here.”

  Speechless, I remained motionless.

  “Here, let me help you out.” Claire dashed to the passenger side, thinking I was paralyzed by my neck. There were spasms coursing through my body, but they emanated from my nether regions. I feared my panties were soaking wet, and Claire would see the effect she still had on me. And all just from the touch of her hand on my leg.

  Fuck! I suddenly remembered I was wearing boxers. Of all the idiotic things! Why did I have to dress like a super-dyke today of all days? I never left the house in boxers. I only slept in them, but how could I explain that?

  Claire leaned closer, and her rose perfume, the same scent from years ago, overwhelmed me. I wanted to bury my nose in her neck, to smell only Claire. To this day, I couldn’t stand being near a rose. The memory of Claire was too intense. Being surrounded by roses every Valentine’s Day in the office was brutal. Usually I would make up some excuse to work from home on February fourteenth.

  “You sure you’re okay? You seem stiffer now than when I first saw you this morning.” Claire’s concern was evident in the careful way she eased me out of the vehicle.

  “I’m fine, I promise.” I wanted to leave my arm around Claire’s shoulders, but Claire was too tall by four bloody inches. Instead I was bold enough to wrap my arm around Claire’s waist, careful not to hold her too suggestively.

  We entered the hotel room, and Denver’s famous thin air almost eluded me completely. I sucked in deeply, while Claire stared at the view.

  “I don’t know how you lived so far away from the mountains. I could never leave them.” Claire spoke with her back to me.

  I wanted to reach out, take Claire in my arms, and announce, “I don’t know how I lived so far away from you.”

  Before I had a chance to say anything, Claire turned around crisply. “Okay, let’s get your shirt off.”

  I shuffled back stiffly and fell onto the bed. “What?”

  “How am I going to give you a massage if you have a shirt on?” Claire tapped her foot while wearing a silly grin that erased twenty years from her face.

  “But, it’s just my neck.” I pointed to my bare neck to emphasize the point, kicking myself for doing so.

  “No it’s not. You can’t move your upper body at all.”

  It was true, but I was seized with trepidation. How could I remove my shirt in front of Claire?

  “Come on,” said Claire as she strutted over to me in three steps.

  “But … but I don’t have a bra on. I couldn’t get it on earlier,” I explained completely aghast. I crossed my arms over my breasts protectively, unclear about what threat Claire posed to my tits.

  Claire laughed. “JJ, you don’t have anything I haven’t seen before.”

  Heat rose to my face. Lamely I said, “I have a tattoo you haven’t seen.”

  “Really?” Claire quirked one eyebrow. “Let me see it.”

  Let her see it. If I did that, Claire would know about my past. The alcohol. The drugs. Rehab. The Miracle Girl fraud. No. I couldn’t let her see the tattoo I got after my third and final stint in rehab. No, I couldn’t let Claire see that about me. She would never understand. Never forgive. She was too pure to understand how weak I had been.

  But it was too late. Claire had forcefully, but still delicately enough not to hurt, lifted my shirt off and casually thrown it onto the floor. I stared at the crumpled shirt, wondering how that happened so quickly.

  “Oh, it’s beautiful.” Claire’s fingertips outlined the large koi fish on my lower back. I had to sit through two sessions to complete it. “What does
it mean?”

  “What?” I could barely force the question out, still eying my shirt.

  “Koi. I remember it has a meaning, but I can’t remember what.” Claire continued to fondle the tattoo.

  I told myself she’s just fingering the tattoo, not me. “Perseverance in difficult times. Buddhists claim it symbolizes courage.” Which at the moment, I felt I was completely lacking in that department.

  “It seems alive, like it’s ready to jump right off your back. Did it hurt?”

  “A little. You get used to the pain … numb to it.”

  Claire sat on the bed next to me. “How should we do this?” She motioned to the bed.

  I stood abruptly. “What do you mean?” I stuttered.

  Claire stifled a laugh. “Can you lay down or do you want me to straddle you from behind … to rub your neck?”

  “Oh, that. I think I can lie down.” I didn’t move. Claire patted the bed, prompting me to be a good patient.

  She sat to the side, kneading my neck carefully. “Do you have any other tattoos?”

  “Yes.” I was hesitant to answer. Would Claire find that gaudy?

  “How many?”

  “One more. A tiny one on my ankle.”

  “What is it?”

  “A word.”

  “What word?”

  “Remember.”

  “You had the word remember tattooed on your body. What are you afraid of forgetting?”

  Who I am? was my first thought. What happened? was my second. “Uh, it depends.”

  Claire dug in a little deeper, and I sucked in some breath.

  “I’m sorry, did that hurt?”

  “No, it felt really good actually.”

  “You should make an appointment with my chiropractor.”

  “Chiropractor? You see a chiropractor?” I tried to turn my head to see Claire’s face. She had to be teasing.

  “Yeah. Why is that so odd?” She gripped my flesh harder, like she knew it was what I wanted.

  “Seems odd for you. Too experimental,” I explained.

  “Well this may shock you, JJ Cavendish, but I’m not the same girl you left behind. I even have an acupuncturist.”