Love In A Hopeless Place (BWWM Romance)

by Anna Rudolph

  “A nap, I think,” he said. “I’m pretty tired. Why don’t you go see what Philip’s up to?”

  Sonya rolled her eyes. “Whatever you say. Sweet dreams, Ray.”

  Ray closed his eyes, and Sonya caught him smiling as she left the room and closed the door. Not sure what to do with her time, Sonya headed down the hall to her own room. She called Allie but got her voicemail. She hung up without saying anything; it wasn’t like Allie ever checked it anyway. She flopped onto the bed, enjoying the little bounce as her weight settled. She rolled onto her stomach, opening up the internet app on her phone. She typed in the address of a well-known job posting site and entered her zip code and keywords for her job search. Might as well get my ducks in a row, she thought, forlornly. Though he seemed happy, cutting out Ray’s meds had him fading quicker than she’d hoped or expected. Her time here would be ending soon, and she knew it was smart to have a plan going forward. As she scanned the listings, she got progressively more disheartened. Nothing jumped out at her or even looked mildly appealing. After reading a few job descriptions, she had fully lost interest. She considered for a moment before sending Dr. Collins an email. She typed a polite, succinct message explaining her dilemma and asking for guidance. She hoped it wasn’t too personal in nature, and that the doctor would be able to help her make up her mind on her next move. Sonya tossed her phone away, exasperated. She decided she could use a shower.

  She stripped off her tank top and shorts, knotted her hair up, and turned the shower on full blast. That was one thing she would definitely miss. The shower was tiled in earthy greenish gold tile, the texture unsanded and raw. The fancy spigot boasted sixteen different spray patterns and nice, rough water pressure. In no time, the tiny room was full of thick steam, and she pulled the glass door behind her as she entered. The scalding water felt divine, the shock of the heat on her skin waking her nerves up. She turned from side to side, taking her time and enjoying the blissful spray. She lathered up a loofah in her favorite body wash, a thick lather that smelled like vanilla. The sweet scent filled the shower and as she scrubbed she felt her mind drift to Philip. It seemed to do that a lot lately, she noticed. The fact of the matter was even if she wanted to pursue him, which she didn’t, it was completely unethical. She knew better than to try to seduce the man who signed her paychecks. Especially considering this particular boss probably thought of her salary as chump change. This tile is almost the same color as his eyes… Sonya sighed, hoping to push out all those confusing feelings out with the forceful exhale. Once she had rinsed herself, she stepped out and dried herself with a towel before slipping into an incredibly soft silk robe. The dark olive green shone against her clear, mocha-colored skin.

  Sonya made her way back to the bedroom, taking a seat on her bed. She checked her phone for a response from Dr. Collins. Her inbox hadn’t yet loaded when she heard a high-pitched whine from down the hall.

  One of Ray’s alarms was going off.

  Sonya carelessly tossed the device away, scrambling at a near sprint down the hallway. She threw the door open, and felt herself grow faint. Ray had never used the pager alarm before, but the apparatus was clenched tightly in his tremoring fist, his knuckles were white and strained. His jaundiced eyes bugged out, a look of terror and pain as blood streamed down from his mouth. His blankets were stained red, soaked through with blood. He retched hard, pushing out another thin stream of blood onto his lap. It was a horror show. Sonya was sick to her stomach as she hurried to his side, taking his hand. He squeezed her, his grip weak and shaky, and sloppily dropped the alarm remote. The high-pitched whine quit, but his heart rate monitor beeped faster and faster.

  Footsteps pounded fast down the hall. Philip hurried in the door, confused, angry, and scared. “What’s going on?” he demanded.

  “Well-” Before Sonya could finish, he cut her off.

  “Why aren’t you doing anything? Isn’t this what I sign your fucking checks for?” His face was red, tone hostile. He pointed at her, looking aggressive. The words struck Sonya like a blow to the face, but her emotions weren’t important now. She compartmentalized the hurt and tried to speak again.

  “There’s nothing to do,” she said softly as she stroked Ray’s hand. “The arteries in his esophagus are extremely swollen, and unfortunately, since his body is so weak, they occasionally rupture.”

  “And there’s nothing you can do?” He almost seemed to be begging behind the rage.

  “No, not anymore. You have to remember, Ray’s technically in hospice care now.” She waited for the full meaning of her words to set in.

  “So what, we just sit here and watch my father die?”

  “It’s most likely going to pass, but this isn’t good.” She looked down at Ray’s other hand, gesturing for him to take it. Philip looked at it, his face almost disgusted, and tentatively took it between his own hands. The contrast of his pinkish, healthy skin against Ray’s sickly yellowed hand was striking.

  Sonya gripped Ray’s hand tight, rubbing his arms as tears streamed down her face. She was in a daze. Her repetitive words of encouragement sounded a million miles away. Philip squeezed Ray’s hand between both of his, tears snaking down his cheeks as he brought it to his mouth, kissing his father’s hand. The episode continued a few more moments, until Ray’s retches finally lessened and came up dry. A line of bloody saliva dribbled from Ray’s chin as he huffed and tried to catch his breath. Under the bed, near the stacks of clean sheets, there was a stack of hand towels. Sonya grabbed a few, her stomach rolling more from fear than disgust, as she attempted to clean Ray. The rough terry cloth pulled on his weak, wrinkled skin.

  “Here.” She tossed a handful of towels at a petrified Philip. His eyes never left Ray as his hand shot out and he reflexively caught them. “Try to clean some of this up, I’m gonna go get some water. Get him out of that shirt.” Philip nodded, refusing to meet her eye.

  She hurried to the bathroom, pulling on the hot water faucet. She ran a hand under the cold stream, shaking the drops off her fingers. She looked into the mirror over the sink while she waited for the heat. She looked and felt haggard and exhausted, her messy braids spilled out of their knot. She realized she was still in just a thin robe, the little peaks of her nipples straining against the silky fabric. Philip’s angry face flashed into her mind. Of course he’d been afraid, that was understandable, but his comment about signing her checks had stung like a slap. She couldn’t believe she’d actually considered making a move on him, even if the thought was fleeting. What a cold-hearted bastard, she thought.

  Once the water was warm, she wet the towel, shaking herself out of her own selfish thoughts. She didn’t matter. Philip didn’t even really matter either. She had to maintain her focus and get back to Ray.

  Sonya walked back into the room with the wet towel. As she entered, Philip looked up, a pained expression on his face. She pointedly ignored him, walking around Ray’s bed and taking a seat. Ray’s sad eyes broke her heart as she gently mopped the bloody spittle off his neck and chin. He was suffering as much from embarrassment as he was from pain. Philip had listened and gotten his shirt off; his scrawny yellow body slumped over in exhaustion over his rounded abdomen. The swelling around his middle had increased, his distended liver defiantly pushed out under his ribs.

  Over the course of an hour, she worked him into a new shirt, changed out his blankets, and checked all his vital signs. Philip sat, unmoving, watching her as she worked. Her hurt and irritation evolved. She chatted idly with Ray, mostly asking how he was feeling and if there was anything she could do. Once he was stable and it seemed as though the bleeding wouldn’t continue, she dug into her kit for the emergency stash of morphine. It was a small dose meant for someone with a weakened liver. She took a deep breath as she shot it into a full IV bag and watched Ray’s head relax back, eyelids heavy as the sweet relief spread through his veins. Philip’s face hadn’t so much as twitched.

  “Sleep well, Ray,” Sonya said sadly, as he slipped unde
r and began to gently snore.

  Philip didn’t move.

  “You can go now,” she snapped at him.

  “It’s actually my house and I’ll stay, thanks,” he said, curtly.

  “Well, at least move. You’re sitting on my bed.” Sonya sounded as small as she felt.

  “What?”

  “The couch!” She took a breath, trying to calm her exasperation. “I sleep on the couch most nights.”

  His hard face finally softened. “You do?”

  “Yes, I do! So I’m not far from Ray.” Sonya wasn’t sure why she was embarrassed by this.

  “Kind of you,” he said, looking conflicted.

  “Yeah.” She put her defenses up a mile high, self consciously pulling her robe around her. “So I guess that’s why you sign my checks. You can go now.”

  “Sonya, I’m sorry-”

  “No,” she cut him off. “It’s fine.”

  “It’s not,” he insisted. “I overreacted. I was scared. I’m sorry.” His apology seemed sincere and his excuse was legitimate enough. Sonya relaxed with a sigh, she knew she’d have to let it slide. Not for herself but for Ray.

  “I forgive you,” she said, half-sure she meant it.

  “I… I was actually thinking about sleeping here. If that’s okay with you.”

  Sonya was shocked, not sure what to say.

  “I want to. I’ll come get you if anything happens.” His eyes conveyed apology and she shrugged.

  “Fine. Good night.” Sonya and her wounded pride walked out the door and back to her room.

  Chapter 5

  The next few days passed without incident. Sonya kept an extra wary eye on Ray, but his health declined at an expected rate. Philip treated Sonya as though nothing had happened, greeting her every morning with an earnest smile. She had felt trepidation at first, waiting for another outburst. However none came.

  The weather outside was beautiful, sunlight pouring over the lush grass. Birds sang in the light breeze, blowing rich with pollen and the scent of summer.

  “Ray, would you want to spend some time outside today?”

  His haggard face brightened a little, he inhaled hard on his oxygen tubes. “Actually, Sonya, that sounds divine.”

  Getting Ray outside was no easy feat, so she called for Philip. He jogged into the room, and, as usual, Sonya wished she wasn’t so pleased to see him. He looked rested and vibrant in a soft sage green shirt that brought out the flecks in his eyes. Sonya told him her plan to move Ray outside. Most of the time she had worked for the Jones’ men, the weather had been mildly wintry, not exactly preferable for a late-stage cancer patient with little body fat.

  Working together, they lifted Ray so he leaned on their shoulders, chuckling at the uneven way they had to hold him, since Philip was so much taller. His legs had become so thin, so weak. His feet brushed along the floor, limp and useless like a marionette. Philip dragged Ray’s IV roller with them through the house and out to the back.

  The back of the living room opened up to a lark half-circle deck. Beautiful soft grey stones spiraled out to the edge, lined with low, dark shrubs. A fantastically crafted outdoor dining set stood modestly off to the left, the long table adorned with a large beige umbrella. To the right two long lounge chaises flanked a small side table that matched the dining set. The view was stunning, gentle grassy hills and trees packed with freshly spread green leaves reached uninterrupted out to the horizon. The sky was lively blue, sporadically dotted with light, fluffy clouds.

  The awkward trio fumbled their way out the sliding glass door, down a few wide steps and across the deck. They situated Ray in a lounge chair, his jaundiced skin looked even more sickly under the natural light. He leaned back, seemed relatively comfortable, and turned his face up to the sun. He closed his eyes and gave a happy sigh, crossing his hands in his lap.

  “Good call, Sonya,” he said brightly. “This feels nice.”

  She smiled, happy to see him happy. She kicked back on the adjacent lounge, stretching her long legs out in the warm light, while Philip noisily dragged over a chair from the dining set. The metal legs stuttered against the uneven stones and Sonya chuckled to herself as he struggled. Once he’d arranged himself in his seat, he smiled at Sonya, who looked away bashfully. The three of them enjoyed the sunlight and the company, swapping silly stories. Summer always seemed to bring out the whimsical in everyone, Sonya loved the way it worked its magic on the men.

  A shrill ring interrupted the easy atmosphere. Philip’s phone was going off inside the pocket of his shorts. He slid the device out, glanced at it, and silenced the ring before pushing it back into his pocket. He smiled back at Sonya and Ray. Sonya was happy to see him making his time with his father a priority. He made a move to speak but was cut off once again by the phone. He felt for the button and silenced it through the light fabric, looking frustrated. The obnoxious ring almost immediately started up again. Philip whipped it out of his pocket, his face stormy as he brought the device to his ear.

  “What?” he snapped, standing and striding away. His tone was acidic.

  “How are you feeling?” Sonya asked Ray once Philip disappeared inside.

  “Honestly?” His voice sounded almost like a croak. “I feel great.” His legs were crossed, his twitchy foot making a rhythmic scratching noise as it brushed against the other’s toes. Other than the foot though, he was almost totally still, a huge improvement from his uncontrollable shakes the last few days.

  “Are you sure I can’t get you anything?”

  “Sonya, take a breath. Relax. Of course I’m miserable. Of course I feel like dog shit, okay? It’s fine. It really is. I’m not supposed to feel well. But mentally, I feel great. You and Philip are both trying so hard and believe me I appreciate it, but you guys can chill out. I’m happy just to be around you guys. You’re really the only people I care about at this point in my life and you need to stop trying so damn hard.” Ray chuckled and shook his head.

  Sonya laughed in spite of herself. Ray was right. Since his episode the other night, she and Philip had been like hungry little puppies wriggling around Ray’s feet. She was flattered to know that Ray cared for her so much, and happy that at least she was doing too much rather than not enough.

  “So, have you asked Philip out yet?”

  That snapped her back. “Ray, we talked about that. I can’t-”

  “Bullshit, you can’t.” He cut her off, his voice firm. “The boy’s many things, but brave isn’t one of them. He’s a coward, so he won’t do it. You have to make the first move. I know it’s not traditional and you deserve to be asked, but you’re a strong woman. You can handle it.”

  “Ray. He’s my boss,” she argued.

  “So? I was Miranda’s boss,” he countered. Sonya had actually forgotten that. Ray had started a landscaping company from scratch in lieu of going to college, and once the business had begun to turn a profit, he’d needed an assistant. That assistant was Miranda, and two years to the day after she started, she’d given birth to baby Philip.

  “It’s not the same…”

  “Who cares? You’re a woman. He’s a man. And I’ll be damned if I don’t say I wouldn’t mind knowing he’s being looked after when I’m gone.” He winked.

  Sonya sat silently, considering. She hated thinking of Ray’s passing, but the fact of the matter was Philip wasn’t going to be her boss for much longer. In fact, if he rejected her, she’d probably never even have to see him again after the funeral. She chastised herself for thinking this way but was mature enough to realize that her life would go on and being prepared for these things was in her best interest.

  “You’re thinking about it,” Ray teased.

  “I am,” she admitted with a meek, embarrassed smile.

  “You only live once. I highly doubt that if you get hit by a bus tomorrow, your last dying thought would be ‘damn, I wish I didn’t try my luck with that handsome billionaire,’ so how bad can it really be?” Ray grinned, and something in Sonya
broke. Wrinkles folded around his eyes, the whites had become so yellow that his hazel irises were barely distinguishable. Here was a man in constant pain, slowly but certainly dying, encouraging her to take a chance. To live. She made up her mind then.

  “Okay. I’ll give it a shot,” she said with a quick nod.

  “Atta girl. I hate to be a party pooper, but I think it might be time to head inside. I love baked liver as much as the next English bloke, but I have a feeling I wouldn’t like becoming one.” He slowly struggled to sit up. Sonya quickly leapt up to help him.

  “That didn’t even make sense.” Sonya laughed. “And you’re from Cleveland.”

  “The English is in my blood and I am basically just a liver by now anyway,” he joked, cupping a bony hand around his swollen gut.

  “Oh, whatever.” Sonya slipped her arm around his shoulders.

  As they made their tricky way inside, they nearly knocked right into Maricelle, the cleaner. She was a sweet, petite, Hispanic woman in her early fifties with a lovely round face and long, deep black hair peppered with gray.

  “Up and at it, Mr. Jones?” she asked, her English gently accented.

  “Doing my best, Mari. Your husband know how lucky he is yet?” He winked at her.

  “Who knows, I only tell him every day.” She smiled back as she disappeared down the hall. She was carrying an armful of dirty sheets and towels to the tiny laundry room hidden behind the kitchen.