Love In A Hopeless Place (BWWM Romance)

by Anna Rudolph

  She could still hear muffled voices through the wall when the doorbell rang. She scurried out of her room, calling out, “I got it!” Philip wasn't getting out of his time with Ray that easily. She clicked the lock on the giant front door and swung it open. On the other side stood a stunning redhead, her tangerine hair tumbled past her modest breasts in a flawless cascade of curls. She wore a high pair of platform slingbacks and a pencil skirt so tight Sonya wondered if she could comfortably breathe. She held a small, plain tote over one shoulder that probably cost as much as Sonya’s car. Sonya felt sloppy and short in her presence.

  The mystery woman smiled at her like she was a child. “Is Philip around?” Her voice was gently accented, the smooth British class making Sonya feel even smaller.

  “Yes.” Sonya looked down, of course this is the type of woman Philip would be involved with. “He’s in with his father right now. Um, come in.” Sonya opened the door further, and the woman comfortably strode in. She didn't look around in awe at the immaculate house like most visitors, she was clearly familiar with the place. Sonya passively wondered how many times the mystery woman had been here. The clicks of her heels on the hardwood floor echoed around the cavernous walls.

  “I'll get him,” Sonya said. The woman stopped in the living room and gave her a thankful smile.

  Walking down the short hallway, Sonya softly tapped on Ray's door before entering. Philip had pushed a large leather recliner up to his dad's bed; he sat back in it comfortably. They were chatting, and Philip's earlier trepidation seemed to have vanished. He was much more attractive when he smiled, Sonya noticed resentfully. Ray was sitting up a little straighter, an unusual amount of animation in his words and movements. She hated that she was about to ruin this for him.

  “Philip?” He looked up. “There’s a woman here to see you?”

  “Ah.” Regret clouded his features as he looked back to his father. “That’ll be Rebecca. I'm headed out to Dublin for two days, you know how it is. But I'll call you tonight if I can, and we can continue this when I get back.”

  Philip moved to stand, but Ray planted a sickly hand on his knee. “You work so hard, Philip. Make sure you take care of yourself.”

  Philip seemed to eye his dad, clearly having a judgemental thought or two about Ray's self preservation. He continued to try to worm away, but Ray's hand didn't move.

  “I love you, Philip.” There were tears in Ray's eyes and gravel in his voice.

  Philip winced as is if Ray had struck him. He looked away, his face guarded and almost angry. He patted his dad's hand and then moved it off his knee. “Love you too, Dad.”

  Sonya watched the exchange, uncomfortable and furious with Philip. How could he not see what he was doing to his own father? Ray continued to look at his hand, now folded with the other back in his lap as Philip quickly strode out. He pushed past Sonya without a word, and Sonya heard him behind her as he greeted the mystery woman with a suave, fake hello.

  A heavy beat of silence rested in the air. Sonya closed the door, silently making her way behind Ray's bed to the chair where Philip had been sitting. Ray's brownie sat untouched on the arm of the chair, Sonya passed it onto his lap as she sat down. The seat was still warm.

  “He's a good kid, Philip.” Ray had been trying to convince her of this since she’d moved in, yet she'd still never seen it. She nodded sympathetically. “He misses his mom more than he lets on. I just hope he realizes one day that work isn't all there is to life. What I wouldn't have given to meet a grandkid…” Ray's eyes brim over with tears. He so rarely talked about his life, or what little of it he had left anyway. Sonya’s heart throbbed. She wrapped her hand around Ray’s and gave it a squeeze.

  “I hope so too,” she said, struggling for all the strength in her voice.

  Chapter 2

  “Go fish!” Sonya snickered. She held her five cards in front of her face like a fan.

  “Damn!” Ray swore and pulled from the draw pile.

  Sonya lounged back in the heavy recliner, feet rested up on the bed next to Ray’s legs. The pile of cards sat next to him on the soft mattress. Neither of them knew they’d been playing for over an hour. Sonya was always trying to find new ways to keep Ray entertained during the days, but this classic card game was one of his favorites. Even though he was losing, she could see a lightness in him. Ray tucked his new card into his own fan. He was holding his cards very close to his face, youthful competition reflecting in the hard squint of his eyes. His time with Philip the other day had a remarkable impact on his mood.

  The doorbell sounded, a light melody of playful bells.

  “Oh no! I’m the worst nurse ever!” Sonya laughed and scooped up the cards frantically, disturbing all the perfectly matched pairs lying in neat rows down the length of the bed. She sloppily forced the deck together, setting it on the arm of the recliner. She straightened out her scrubs, she liked to at least kind of resemble a professional when the doctors came to visit.

  She made her way through the immaculate house to the front door and opened it for Dr. Collins. The tall, thin man greeted her and they chatted amicably about the nice weather and how nice it would be for Ray to get some time outside as they ventured back to Ray’s room.

  “How you holding up, Mr. Jones?” the doctor asked once he saw his patient. For just a moment, Sonya saw Ray as the doctor would. He’d lost even more weight. His skin was so yellowed and dull his bald head didn’t even shine in the sunlight. Oxygen tubes hung limply over his ears, draping over his wrinkled face. He looked frail, washed up, and Sonya felt her heart sink.

  “Never better, Doc,” Ray said, reaching out for a handshake greeting. The doctor took his bony hand and shook it with a firm grip.

  Sonya and Ray had been watching a baseball game when the doctor entered. She snatched the remote and quickly dialed down the volume while the boys talked sports. The Orioles, Ray’s favorite team, had taken on some new pitcher and Sonya half-listened as they debated his stats and likelihood to be throwing in the upcoming game against the Yankees. She stood by the door, feeling anxious.

  After Philip’s departure two days prior, she’d had to do a battery of tests on poor Ray. The blood samples she’d taken had filled the vials slowly, his blood was dark, thick and sticky like molasses. His urine was dark amber and his stool was dry and pasty. She’s known when she’d handed the samples off to the courier that the results weren’t going to be great, but when the doctor had called late yesterday afternoon insisting on an appointment, she’d panicked.

  Ray made a sports joke that Sonya didn’t understand and the doctor laughed, an awkward honking noise that Sonya associated with a flock of geese. Sobering up, the doctor began, “Well, I wish I had better news for you, Mr. Jones.”

  Ray seemed unaffected by this statement. “Well, Doc, you already told me I’m dying, how much worse can it get?”

  “I don’t know about worse so much as… sooner,” Dr. Collins said, his face sober and sad.

  “How much sooner?” The desperate crack in her voice surprised Sonya as she rushed forward. Wave after wave of dread, panic, and sadness crashed over her. She leaned on the guardrail of Ray’s bed for support. Ray lay still, seeming careless to both the news and Sonya’s outburst.

  “Well, based on the samples you submitted and your vital sign notes…” the doctor trailed off, running a long finger down the length of the charts in his hand. “Blood pressure and pulse heart rate are both low, restlessness and pain have become daily, vision’s dissipating… What’s his temperature today?”

  “99.5,” she spat, subconsciously aware of her professionalism lacking. The doctor was stalling and she didn’t like it. “How much longer?” she asked again.

  “And that seems to be a good day lately.” Dr. Collins looked up at Sonya. He gave her a knowing smile, his eyes sad. He hadn’t been wrong. The prior few weeks, Ray’s temperature fluctuated wildly and never quite came back to a normal 98.6 degrees. His breathing rattled when he slept. He could
n’t read anymore, his vision had faded. She’d known the signs of the body finally giving up and chosen to ignore them.

  “In my honest and professional opinion,” the doctor continued, “I’d say you have about two weeks left to live, Mr. Jones.”

  Such a short sentence, yet Sonya took the impact like a cannonball to the gut. She’d known Ray’s life was ending but thought she’d have more time. Ray was such an amazing person and so undervalued by the only family he had left. She couldn’t stand the thought that he would soon be gone, living on only in her heart. Ray sat still, his face crumpled slightly as he took in the news.

  “I understand, Doc.” His voice sounded so old and frail as he gave two slow, solemn nods. The entire time she’d known Ray, through all the pain, she’d never seen him look so… weak. Her heart shattered, the shards digging sharply into her chest. Tears dammed in her eyes and she sniffled madly. She brought a hand up to her face and wiped them away, attempted to maintain a semblance of professionalism.

  “So, you could move into a hospice situation,” the doctor said, “or we can keep you here and Sonya can practice hospice procedures for you.”

  “I want Ray to stay here,” Sonya said firmly. She truly believed that was best, and her confidence showed.

  “Alright. Well, we can shave back on the meds. I bet you'll be happy to be off those pills.” The doctor attempted a smile, but his somber eyes shone. It was hard to tell someone they were dying, sometimes even harder to tell their loved ones.

  Ray tried for a dry chuckle that sounded more like a cough. “They are a pain in the ass.”

  Looking to Sonya, the doctor said, “Everything but the painkillers. I'll refresh the prescription. Comfort is obviously the goal now.”

  Sonya nodded, fighting more tears. Ray stared ahead, stone faced. The doctor said a few other things neither of them heard. He expressed his regrets and let himself out.

  The door had barely even closed when Ray said, “Don't tell Philip.”

  “What?” Sonya was flabbergasted. Wouldn't he want to spend his last days with his only son?

  “I don't want to take away from his work. It'll be less of a hassle for him once I've passed anyway.” His tone made it clear she wasn't to argue.

  “Well… Can I get you anything?” Sonya asked, uneasy.

  “Two painkillers would be great. And if you don't mind, I’d like to spend a little time alone.”

  Sonya felt a tightening in her chest but did as he asked. After all, it was the wish of a dying man. She exited the room, closing the door softly behind her. Then, something in her broke. She rushed to her room so Ray wouldn't hear her sobs. She flopped face down on the guest room quilt, suddenly desperate for the comfort she hadn't appreciated here.

  You knew this was coming, she kept repeating to herself. But had she really accepted it? Was it really possible to comprehend the looming loss of a life that she held so dear? Ray wasn't just another patient. He was her friend.

  Her phone beeped from the dresser. A text. She scooped herself up from her pitiful pile on the bed and grabbed her phone. Her best friend Allie, a fellow nurse, had sent her a message. It read, “What's up buttercup?”

  “Got some bad news about Ray. Doc says two weeks.” Sonya's fingers shook as she typed.

  Allie shot back almost immediately. “OMG are you ok??”

  “Not really. Call you later. XO.” Sonya typed back, pretty sure she wouldn't call. She'd found herself detaching from her outside life when she's moved in with Ray; she realized she hadn't seen Allie in over a month. She wished she felt worse about neglecting her friend.

  The front door opened and closed. Philip was home. Sonya made a snap decision then. Philip needed to know about his father’s condition whether Ray wanted him to or not. She heard footsteps in the hallway outside Ray’s room, hoping to catch Philip before he entered. She caught him, just barely.

  “Hello, Son-” was all he got out before she cut off his attempt at a polite greeting. She held a finger over her mouth, telling him to be quiet. He looked startled and confused. She pointed back towards the living room, and he followed her, brow furrowed.

  Once they were out of earshot, Sonya explained, “I need to talk to you about your dad.”

  “What? What’s going on?” The concern and panic in his face were genuine, which caused Sonya to second guess his emotional attachment to his father.

  “Well, the doctor was here this morning,” she said, desperate to hold it together in front of him. “He said Ray’s got about two weeks left.” The shock registered in Philip’s face. He seemed to sway off balance, clearly the news impacted him the way it had impacted her. He said nothing.

  “Ray told me not to tell you,” she continued.

  “What? Why?”

  “He didn’t want you to be distracted from your work,” she tried to tell him this gently, after all, he had just found out his father was dying. But her own judgements about his priorities seeped through with a slight bitterness.

  “How could he… He’s my father!” He was angry and the volume of his voice rose.

  Sonya shushed him, which seemed to throw him off. She assumed no one shushed the mighty Philip Jones that often. “Don’t let him hear you,” she said sternly. “I wanted to let you know anyway, because I think you have the right to. I know it’s none of my business, and I couldn’t even fathom what your work must be like. I know it takes up a lot of your time. But, if you could, I think you should take some time off. I know it would mean the world to Ray.”

  “Yeah, yeah, of course.” He seemed so much younger when he stuttered, and Sonya started to realize how handsome he really was. She batted the thought away.

  “But you need to make it seem like your own idea. A coincidental little vacation. You can’t let him know I told you.”

  “I understand.” He seemed somber, resigned. He looked back down the hallway towards Ray’s room. Sonya could see the emotional storm coming to a head in him. A single tear made its slow journey down his perfect cheekbones, almost reaching his jaw before roughly brushed it away. Sonya felt herself warm to him then, he really was human.

  “I… I’m gonna go put this away in my office.” He gestured to the briefcase in his left hand. “And probably change into something a little comfier.” He looked down at his flawlessly tailored suit, classic crimson silk tie, and handmade Italian loafers.

  “I’ll be in Ray’s room.” Sonya was careful to keep her tone gentle.

  “Give me ten minutes. I’ll meet you there. And Sonya?”

  “Yes, Philip?”

  He suddenly reached for her hand. The movement seemed involuntary. He grabbed it and gave it a squeeze. “Thank you for telling me. Really.” His hazel eyes were brimming with tears; he was clearly overwhelmed with emotion.

  “You’re… You’re welcome,” she stuttered, reeling from the shock of his touch.

  He whipped his hand away and stalked out of the room with long, purposeful strides, loosening his tie as he disappeared into his wing of the house.

  She turned and headed back to Ray’s room. She gently knocked twice, unable to break the habit that had been drilled into her from nursing school and the hospital. She entered, and Ray looked up. He seemed to break out of a trance.

  “Guess what?” Sonya sounded much cheerier than she felt. “Philip’s home! He’s gonna come hang out with us. What do you want to do? Maybe we can kick his butt in some Go Fish.”

  Ray regarded her suspiciously. He didn’t say a word.

  She grabbed the deck of cards. She had to look away from Ray; his glare made her feel like a guilty child and she couldn’t let him see it. She dealt three piles of five starter cards, handing one to Ray with a bright smile. He took them into his hands, shielded them from her view, and held his skeptical glare on her.

  Philip entered the room in a white t-shirt and athletic shorts. His smile gave no indication he had been crying just moments ago. “Hey, Dad!” he chirped. “What’s up?”

  Ray
shifted his glare to Philip, but Philip didn’t break. “About to play some Go Fish with Sonya apparently,” the skepticism in his voice clear and deliberate.

  “God, I haven’t played in years,” Philip said. “I’ve got some down time. Mind if hop in?”

  “Not at all,” Ray said, yellow eyes narrowed. He shifted his gaze back and forth between them.

  “I made you a pile!” Sonya handed Philip his cards, face down of course.

  “Where shall I sit?” he asked Sonya.

  “Um.” She thought for a moment. “Would you be able to drag the couch over?”

  He regarded the soft, worn, aubergine sofa Sonya so often slept on. Without missing a beat, he hauled up one end of the couch and began to drag it over. His shirt was made of a thin fabric that hugged his impressive, rippled back as hauled over the couch. She caught her eyes lingering on his sleeves, stretched tight around swollen biceps, and bashfully looked away.

  Once he’d settled the sofa, Philip took a seat, arranging himself cross legged on the end nearest his father. He looked through his cards and exclaimed, “Ha ha! I already have a match!” He tossed down two threes on his side of Ray’s bed. “Suckers.” His cocky smile was actually pretty sexy, Sonya thought. She realized she had never seen him this relaxed or unprofessional. She definitely preferred this side of him.

  “No fair! Draw two more.” She held out the deck and he drew two from the pile. He arranged them into his hand, holding them fanned out the same way Ray did.

  “So Ray… Do you have any fours?” she inquired.

  “Go Fish,” he said blandly, clearly still confused by this sudden turn of events.

  So on they played. Ray’s discomfort faded quickly, as they exchanged cards. Matches lined Ray’s legs and both sides of the bed. When they ran out of cards, they started over. Sonya didn’t know how long they played, and she didn’t care. The tension on Ray’s face had melted away. He laughed. Philip laughed too, the more he loosened up, the more Sonya realized how much he resembled his father. It warmed her heart to watch him, his love for his father apparent on his face. Ray beamed back at him as well as he could. Sonya assessed his body language, he looked uncomfortable. She guessed he was in excruciating pain but didn’t want to say anything in front of Philip.